World War II and Beyond: A Veteran's Memory Log

8/8/2019 World War II and Beyond: A Veteran's Memory Log

1/31

MY FIRST TRIP OUT OF THE COUNTRY

The starting of a long journey. I am not sure of the actual date, but some time in Nov. 1941 I received a

notice to report to the selective service board in Hanford, California. The invitation was not a surprise,

because I had been eligible to get drafted for about a year. The agony was prolonged by the depth of the

letter S in the alphabet. Yes, I could have enlisted, but, I was not that anxious (or patriotic) enough at the

time to find a recruiter and raise my right hand.

Dec. 4, 1941

About fifteen of us were selected from Hanford, Armona, and Lemoore. We traveled by train to San

Francisco and stayed at the YMCA on the embarcadero for one night. One group was sworn in

December 6, 1941, in the old armory in Frisco. A young Lieutenant told us we had two hours to kill

before being transferred to the presidio of Monterey. He asked if we would like to ride the cable cars to

see part of San Francisco. The answer was yes, we would like to do that, but how are we going to find

our way back? He smiled and said he would get us a guide.

A short while later he returned with a young soldier (from another group) that knew the town well,because he lived in Mill Valley. He showed us the whole city. We rode the cable cars. At the end of the

line we got off and helped turn the car around on the turntable. (I had driven on a few of the streets in

1939, while visiting the Worlds Fair. But this was my first guided tour of the city.)

This was an exciting and scary time of life for me. A five seven guy tossed me into a six two world ill

equipped for the tasks that lie ahead, just about everything was strange and complicated.

On the way to the Presidio my new acquaintance remarked, I wonder what now? I told him the worst

was probably over. We are all sworn in the army and working on the year that we are asked to serve,

and it wont be long until we are on our way home with a discharge in our hand. It didnt work out that

way. Three years, nine months and fourteen days later, I received that discharge.

The date was Dec. 6, 1941 when I checked in at the presidio of Monterey. Went to breakfast about

7:00am Dec. 7, 1941, and learned that the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor. This is the reason my

discharge was late in coming, that changed my direction about 180 degrees and a lot of others.

My stay at the beautiful Presidio was less than a week. I was bunked in a pyramidal tent with seven

other men. One was a Japanese American that was upset, and angry, because Japan was the instigator

of the slaughter at Pearl Harbor. Another person slept in our tent, I remember because he was a friendly

guy and the first wealthy person that I had ever met. His name, Stanley Solvee. His father owned the

Solvee Steel Co. I learned years later from a friend that worked for Solvee Steel that Stanley was the

manager at the Torrance plant where he, my friend worked. I was pleased to learn that Stanley survived

the war.

The date I am not sure, but around Dec. 15, 1941 I arrived at Camp Roberts in San Miguel, California.

(Co. D. 86 Reg. West Garrison Antitank) and trained to use a 37 mm cannon, also small arms. We met

our first sergeant. He was one of the reasons vanilla extract was hard to keep in stock at the mess hall in

our company. Sarge was a boozer, a professional soldier, and had a disposition like a pit bull with an

attitude. He called us piss woolys. I never learned what the words meant. Evidently, he thought they


2/31

were very obscene, but I wasnt all that intimidated. The more first sergeants I met down the road, the

more I liked old Sarge.

Basic training was very hard for me the first few weeks. Not physically. Someone was always yelling at

me and I did not need a non-com barking orders in a loud demanding tone. I always did what I was

asked to do, no questions. I was either frightened or angry. No pleasantry in between. Just a faze you

pass through they say. The cadre soon eased up and things leveled out. I was not singled out and

harassed. The treatment was just the order of the day. Out in the field I could handle long marches,

heavy packs, any kind of weather, night problems, stumbling around in the dark, no lights on the trucks

and jeeps, THAT I could take, it was the harsh bad mouthing that bugged me. All of that soon passed and

life became more comfortable for me, so.

I almost forgot to mention our mess hall problem. Back in the early days of the war, the troops were

called to chow in a dining room with tables set by the KPs with plates, knife, fork, and spoon with hot

food in bowls and platters serve yourself with what you could reach. If the potatoes were down at the

other end of the table you would ask to have it passed to you. The person nearest the platter picked it

up and took half the potatoes, he passed it to the next guy and he would take what was left, and you

received an empty platter. That was called shortstopping. The CO assigned a NCO to every other table.When you asked for something to be passed and if it was shortstopped you were justified to create a

commotion like calling the stopper a bad name. The NCO (normally a corporal) would take care of the

situation. Metal trays later solved that problem.

At Roberts I trained with a 1903 Springfield Rifle! And a World War One helmet! Our main weapon was

a 37mm antitank gun. The 37mm was a high velocity, flat trajectory weapon, normally a vehicle towed.

In an emergency we each in the gun crew had a harness we used manually for the off road purpose.

With the harness attachments the crew could pull the gun over rough terrain into a defiladed area firing

position quite quickly.

Feb. 1942

I had one special pleasurable day while at Camp Roberts, I had visitors, my three pretty sisters and their

families. They were all so squeaky clean, and pleasant looking. I was so proud of them. Everybody

seemed to enjoy themselves. Lyle and E. C. playing with the jeeps, Janie, Doralee, and Gwen were very

young at the time, so it would be hard to judge their temperaments, feelings, dispositions, whatever.

Bea, Zelma, and Roo, posed and clowned around with my first world war helmet and created a lot of

laughs. It was a fun day!

Now that Ive finished Basic Training and we are at war with Japan, am I ready for combat? Physically,

possible. Mentally? Ive got to do some work on that.

I received orders to report to Seattle. We traveled by train, through the snow covered mountains and

green trees of Oregon. What beauty! We stayed in Seattle area on week. I dont know the date, but we

boarded a small transport ship by the name of the North Sea. We took the inside passage route, stopped

at Petersburg, Ketchikan, and our destination Sitka.

Jan. or Feb 1942


3/31

I joined L. Co. of the 201st

Inf. Reg. a West Virginia National Guards stationed at Fort Ray on Japonski, a

small island a short distance from Sitka, which is on Baranof Island. In Basic training I spent the whole

time on how to operate and fire a 37mm cannon antitank gun. And ended up in a rifle squad, which I did

not mind. Five other men and I spent two months with the Navy. On a 20 mm antiaircraft gun guarding a

P. B. Y. Base about the time Dutch Harbor was hit by the Japanese. June 3, 1942

The duty on Japonski was ideal. We could go to town on weekends, that is, if not on guard duty and had

money. A person did not have to be tall, dark and handsome in Sitka to get a girl, for a fee that is,

(Kodiak had the same setup) the US Gov. brought in volunteers, rotated, and replaced as needed. The

name of the area was Swan Lake.

July or Aug. 1942

In Sept. 42 L. Co. my outfit packed up for a trip to Excursion Inlet, a place with a few army tar paper huts

northwest of Juneau. Why we were sent there no one would tell me. It was a beautiful place, tall trees

and snow fell in huge flakes floating down so slowly you could hardly see where you were going.

I remember a day on a firewood cutting detail using the saw and ax with no breeze blowing and largesnowflakes drifting down it was actually hot. We removed our shirts to cool off, until our C.O. came by

and reminded us that even out in the boonies we still have dress codes.

The area had small glaciers running down the sides of the mountains. The weather was not always warm

and snowy. Some days it became very damp and cold. Guard duty was a twenty-four hour stint, two on

four off, that is when we were exposed to the foul weather. Some nights it got a few degrees below zero.

My company was the only infantry unit at Excursion Inlet. A few army engineers and a lot of civilian

contractors to build air strips. Leveling the land by blasting the tops of the mountains off. Seams and

Drake, Guy F. Atkenson, were two of the big contractors doing a lot of the work at the time. Dozens of

men would hang over the sides of the hills by cable or rope. Drilling holes to stuff and tamp full ofdynamite, then set all of the charges off at once. The blast would blow half of the hill away, one

particular blast I remember well. I had just completed twenty-four hours of guard duty. So now I have

twenty-four off. I went to bed on a top bunk with a vent window above that laid out from the top with

the hinges on the bottom, with two chains holding it half open. Hope I made that clear. A blast from one

of the hills blew the window down on top of me and my bunk which spoiled one of my bad dreams. I

had broken class in my hair on my bunk everything was a mess.

After I got the place cleaned up the officer of the day came by and told us the loud blast had caused a

terrible accident. Three or four army truck drivers from the Alcan Highway job had been killed from the

blast. They were sleeping fairly close to the hill that blew, and their hut took the brunt of the blast.

These men in sleeping bags on bunks were blown out through the windows and one or so were found in

trees. The powder monkey over-charged the hill with TNT.

A few days later I was one of the you, you, and you men chosen to dig the graves. The ground was not

frozen, so it wasnt all that much work. The reason I brought this up is, we made wooden crosses for

each grave, nailed one dog tag to each cross, and placed them at the proper grave. This brought up the

question, why does a dog tag have a hole on one end and a niche in the other end? Everyone had a

different answer to why the dog tag was made with a recess on one end. Some answers had logic others

were very gruesome. I would like to learn the true reason for the niche in the GI dog tag.


4/31

We, L. Co. 201st

, back to Sitka with the other three companies of the battalion, after spending four

months at Excursion Inlet. We settled back in our old designated positions around on Japonski Island

across from Sitka.

I am sure I described Sitka as being beautiful before but that is an understatement. Sun setting with a

red tint trying to get dark, Aurora Borealis lights rolling across the sky trying to keep the sky alight, a

scenic battle! You could see Mount Edgecombe with the mouth of a dormant volcano in the background.

Our stay at Sitka after the Excursion Inlet trip was a short one. Soon, we were on our way to Kodiak. We

stayed two months on the island. I dont remember too much about Kodiak. Our company duties were

just every day common army details. One incident that I cant forget. It was about time to hit the sack, at

least 9pm. The first sergeant came around selecting men for a detail in Kodiak to help unload a ship. The

Sarge chose about 25 men, staff sergeants, buck sergeants, PFCs, the whole shot. We gathered near the

officers huts and just before we climbed into the trucks about 15 men showered the officers huts with

fist size rocks. It was not planned because a lot of us didnt know what was going on until we saw the

men throw something, and heard the rocks raining down on the officers huts. Not one man said a word

about it, I was so stunned that I could not open my mouth. I could not believe that they would do a thinglike that. We were at war plus in a war zone. The officers didnt mention it either, and I still dont

understand why.

The only thing that my memory log will vent that might be of some interest is that rough ship ride from

Kodiak to Amchitka. We were sailing along at a pretty good clip, through, over, and sometimes it

seemed under mountainous waves off of our portside. Bobbing up and down was our protection, a little

DE (destroyer escort). Like a surfer, he, the captain of the DE., would pick a large one that would crest

about 30ft. up then come falling back down into this deep trough alongside our ship. He must have

enjoyed his ride because he selected big ones for the rest of the trip.

We tied up at Amchitka early morning and did not debark until early afternoon. What we could see ofthe place from the ship was very dismal. Walking to our destination it got worse, no trees, no houses,

just cold looking tents. We were carrying everything we owned in a Norse pack that is larger than the

regular army pack. We finally stopped for a break nothing more than a large chocolate bar, that could be

broken into three equal parts. Breakfast, lunch and an evening meal.

After stuffing ourselves with a third of a chocolate bar, we strapped on our heavy packs in a sitting

position, then helped each other rise to a standing position, and went on our miserable way. We walked

for another hour before the company commander deployed the troops in their designated areas. My

squad was sent ahead to set up an outpost on the left flank of the OPLR. (Out Post Line of Resistance).

We were set up as though we were going to receive enemy fire within the hour. Those were the on the

alert conditions we lived with for the next nine months.

The Japanese (enemy) were occupying Kiska, the next island, over 45 miles away. Our air force would

bomb them every day that the weather would permit. One trip after another until dark. After dark is

when I had to go to work. Another infantryman and I would patrol from the left flank outpost, to the

right flank outpost, about five miles one way. Some nights we would pick up a dog and its handler at the

canine corps tent, normally we would sling our rifles over our shoulders. But with the dog hearing or

seeing every fox on the island kept the three of us scared out of our wits. The dog didnt bark. He would

alert us with his ears or stops. The dogs alertness caused me to carry my rifle at port arms, but when


5/31


6/31

I joined a platoon of very friendly guys that I had seen before, but did not know all that well. One had

extra rations he shared with me that first day. Four of us used our shelter halves butted together to

make one long pup tent that five slept in for warmth. I moved in with these men during the rainy season.

When it got dark the five of us would get in our tent wrapped in our sleeping bags because we didnt

have any other place to go. We would talk, laugh, tell jokes, and even sing to help pass the time. It

rained a lot and very hard at times, that is why we spent so much time in our tent. We had candles

which gave off some light. Besides, it was more comfortable inside the small tent, than standing watch

in the rain with a stinking machine gun. We cheated some on the watch standing duty. The officers did

not come around after dark. Sergeant Fout was in charge of the gun crew and he was also the fifth man

in our tent.

Carl Tope was two or three years older than any of us, and he had been around. We accused him of

running with the Mafia, in a fun way, in fact I think Carl enjoyed the ribbing we gave him about his

worldly experiences. We never leaned on each other, because we realized how tightly we were all

strung.

When darkness arrived we would go to our shelter with the rain coming down at a normal rate. Carl

wasnt satisfied with the amount we were receiving, then he would start his pony and dog show. Henamed God Davie. He would curse Davie because it rained so much. He would say G__ d__ you Davie

send it down, let it pour. Thad, Lynn, and I would beg him not to curse God. Sgt. Fout would laugh

because in one minute or so the rain would pour down. We all knew it was about time for a deluge

anyway. Carl timed the show pretty close to the pattern, then we would all laugh. I think Carl had a

secret, he was a little afraid of God himself. The reason for Davie, he could not look God in the eye and

bad mouth him. I felt a little guilty laughing when Carl put on his act, but I blamed it on the situation, we

did not have too many amusing things going for us, so we had to work at staying in a positive mode.

We paid for the laughs we had later. Around 3am the extra rain that Davie sent us, part of it soaked our

sleeping bags where our shoulder and our hips applied the most pressure so I did push ups to warm up

to get back to sleep. Ive never had a free lunch.

Two months have passed since Carl had his bout with Davie. We are setting up a permanent new

company area, with large pyramidal tents. We are getting a new home. Each squad is digging in their

own tent. We have to dig a hole about two feet deep and 15 by 15 wide for it to fit in, then use the dirt

to build a parapet all around the side, to lessen the wind as much as possible.

The wind is a major factor in our lives. Most of the time it comes with rain, snow, I started to say sun,

but I cant remember if we have seen the sun since we arrived on the island. The work is hard, and long

hours, but my buddies are big and strong, 511 and 6 footers. My name is little Stu. We all still get along

well. Weve never had a single argument; I believe that they are all afraid of me.

The new tents turn our living conditions around 180 degrees for the better. But ones personal hygiene

is suffering. This is about the fourth month that we have been on the island. And were just last week

designated a bath tent with three fifty gallon drums cut in half long wise set on racks for tubs. Two pot

bellied stoves for heating the tent. I dont remember how we heated the water to bathe in. I did not get

there often enough to become familiar with the procedures.

I spent about six months on Amchitka before I finally got to take a shower. I did not become allergic to

water during that period. I cleaned up with wash cloths using my helmet to throw water on myself, by


7/31

various crude ways, but found that the shower was the answer. The men in L. Co. received a pleasant

and also surprising announcement by the first Sergeant. He said the engineers had completed a new

shower room with hot water, and the company would be quartered in Quonset huts in the very near

future. We showered that first day at intervals, squad at a time. I stood in line for about fifteen minutes.

It was snow falling straight down, without a wind. Unusual, indeed

I reached the shower about eleven oclock. I surely welcomed and enjoyed that foreign sensation of hot

water rolling off my body. I put on clean under clothes, all clean clothes except my parka.

When I walked out into the cool night I felt so warm, you cant imagine how very warm I felt. I looked up

through the snowflakes falling and thought, thanks Davie for the warm shower, things are really looking

up down here.

A P-38 went down last week near where we were training. Caused by a hydraulic leak that created a

problem with steering the craft, we were later told. We discussed it a lot, because it happened so close.

Some of us followed it down, kept sight of it crashing. Just a month back, we talked of another P-38

story. While carrying supplies to the Ops we walked in single file. The P-38 pilot would use us as a target

to practice strafing. They would come in real low from the rear of our l ine, tip the nose of the plane up,and fire a burst from two fifty caliber machine guns, then scoot off into the wild blue. A P-38, about fifth

feet up, flying over your head looks the size of a house. So evidently some of the foot soldiers threw

small objects at the planes when at a low altitude mock strafing. And order was sent to headquarters for

the ground force to refrain from throwing rocks at aircraft. I was in a group that was strafed, but we did

not throw rocks because there were no rocks in the muskeg to throw. The foot people that threw

objects, must of thrown cans of C rations, which are about the size of a small rock when you are hungry.

We are living a more comfortable life now. All the men in our company are bunked in Quonset huts.

When I first landed on Amchitka I learned what people meant by saying, I did not have a roof over my

head. It is still snowing and blowing. It will subside for a day then come roaring back with a vengeance.

Hopefully, the storms will start slowing down soon. We had a williwaw come through the other nightand the following morning we were awakened by the CQ (charge of quarters) jumping up and down on

our roof, yelling GRAB YOUR SOCKS, so we had to dig our way out.

That was not the first time the hut was snowed under. Normally the snow did not get very deep. Most of

the snow will blow across the island into either the ocean or the sea. The Q hut is large and it creates

large drifts around the hut. When you open the door to go out, you are facing a wall of snow, but the

thought of hot coffee and breakfast entices you to start digging.

The weather is a lot better. Weve never had good weather, but we havent had a williwaw in a month

or so, just fog, wind, and drab skies. The air force is very active lately. They hit Kiska four or five times a

day, now that the weather is clearing up a bit. We all have a feeling that something big is going to

happen. We are training harder, night problems and good things like that.

We had plenty of aircraft: P-38s, P-39s, P-40s, and B-25s; I heard we had some B-17s that are to bomb

Kiska. Things big have started, the 2nd

Reg. of Canadian-American Special Service Unit landed on

Amchitka about Aug. 3, 1943. The 1st

and 3rd

Reg. are still on ships somewhere. The big day finally

arrived. Kiska was invaded Aug. 15, 1943. A surprise of a lifetime, the Japanese had left a week or so

before. Our Reg. 201s was so outclassed with this group that Gen. Buckner accumulated for the invasion,

it was shameful. Commando Rangers, Guerilla Paratroops 2,500, 5000 Mountain Combat Team. In all


8/31

35,000 combat troops we were in reserve. The Canadians and Americans went on to Italy and France

and half of them were killed. They were later dramatized in the 1968 movie, The Devils Brigade. The

remark I made about my group being outclassed: We were outclassed in name only, we just did not get

tested. We trained together for almost two years. We were hot, we knew our job.

The orders came down today for L. Co. to pack their bags, after all this time we are going home. We are

all in shock. Our ship sailed at 10:00am for Seattle. In late August or early Sept. 1943, the Marine Corps

manned the guns on the transport, and patrolled the deck day and night. We were told that our ship

would dock in Seattle at 6am. Most of us were up and dressed at 2:30am. The marine guards tried to

force the soldiers to stop walking and go to our bunks. We were so excited no one listened.

The second night I got a pass to town. What a change this country had made in two years. Some women

in bars were drunk, wearing hard hats, little black welders caps, with dirty faces. Everything was strange.

The girls must of stopped for one drink after getting off shift, then lost count. Ive been guilty of that a

few times.

My friend and I ordered drinks. I was very nervous, and got the shakes. I did not know if I was having a

cardiac arrest, or an apoplectic fit. A woman at the bar noticed me shaking, and asked, are you all thatcold? I did not answer, I just tried to smile. I was just plain scared. The atmosphere was so different it

was hard for me to handle. The next day our CO informed the NCOs to ready the troops to board a train

soon for Camp Carson. (Colorado Springs, Colorado.)

From Camp Carson I got a 2 month furlough, my first. I went to Armona, California, to see my mom and

pick up our 1939 Chevy Coupe, AND 60 gallons of gasoline ration coupons. I was eligible for one gallon a

day for the 60 day furlough I had coming. I dont remember where my sisters were at the time. Bea, and

Zelma were in Gardena, California. Ruby may have been with Russ in the army somewhere. I spent my

well earned pleasant two months off, then reported back to Camp Carson.

I spent 3 weeks in voice and command school. One of the instructors, a captain, had a loud andpenetrating voice which he was willing to exercise, especially, if one of the students called a platoon to

attention with a timid, mousey, command. That was his clue to appear from a spectators viewing stand

with his bullhorn voice and give the shy student a shock treatment.

MY SECOND TRIP OUT OF THE COUNTRY

I was sent to Fort McClellan, Alabama, on a cadre assignment. I dont remember the dates of any of

these moves, other than I know I was at Ft. McClellan on June 6, 1944, D-Day. My job was walking

backward along side of a platoon of recruits, counting, in cadence, hut, two, three, four, Jones kick it

over. He would do a little queer hop, and he was back in step, Smith kick it over. Get the picture?

The cadre carried walking sticks at first. Out of the blue, orders came down to throw our sticks away and

carry M-1 rifles, that did it. Im out of here, some way or another. I didnt like the job from the first day. I

went on a thirty-six hour pass and didnt get back on time. I thought one day would be long enough to

get a transfer, and it was, the man, Commanding Officer (CO) called me in for counsel. I was restricted to

the post and told by the CO that I would be sent on another boat ride. He knew that I had just got back

to the states.


9/31


10/31


11/31

Pacific Campaign before coming to Europe. They expected to get rotated back to the states soon, and

that news made them realize that their chances of going home were slim.

If you are an infantryman in a combat unit and want out, the price of a ticket back to the states will cost

you one arm or one leg, nothing less. Anxiety wont pay the fare. So, just sit back and smile. You are

there for the long haul, like until the fat lady sings.

The first week on the line in the 42nd

Division was assigned to the third army, Gen. Patton, one week

later transferred to the seventh army with Gen. Patch. Since the two days on the river bank in

Strasbourg, we have been busy in and out of small encounters, nothing major, but stressful.

We are beginning to believe that there is no future until you reach it. Some of the men, and myself

included, sometimes wonder if we will get there. No one smiles anymore, we have not become callused

to this way of life yet, but its been a long three weeks.

Here we are on the move again, this particular morning the Lt. seemed to be more anxious that usual,

he was in a hurry-up mood. He led us through a town that looked nice and clean. It had a large church

with a steeple, red tile roofs on the houses. The name of this little town is Rittershoffen.

We drove past the last house on the street leaving town. The Lt. told the crew to set the gun up in the

corner of an orchard.

We used our harnesses to tow the gun into the field. It was set up on its wheel segments. Those are

jacks that keep the wheels and tires off of the ground when fired. The gun would jump like a startled

hare if fired without the jacks. We dug our holes. Four of the men moved our packs, sleeping bags, and

other gear into the first house nearest the gun.

The house we took over was empty of people, not one person on the streets. That told us that this is

going to be a biggie. After dark we got some flares, its hard to freeze (do not move) if a flare catchesyou standing. In between flares, the fence posts and everything that you checked out in front of you

before dark seem to get closer.

Seven men of the squad were responsible for the watch duty, the two NCOs (non commissioned officers)

and driver were exempt. We arranged the schedule in order for us all to get some sleep in the warm

house. It was not unbearable in the hole, or standing by the gun, but there were about two inches of

snow on the ground. All of a sudden the bombardment started. The German artillery literally beat the

town of Rittershoffen down around our necks. I dont know how long I stayed there. It could have been

three days, I just dont remember. The German artillery pulverized the red tile roofs, it was three inches

deep in the streets. I dont know where they got all of their ammunition. We havent seen any soldiers,

tanks, not one vehicle target since we arrived. One or two observation planes, a jet plane zipped over,

that was special. Some of us had never heard of a jet plane before. Still no targets, we have a 50mm

antitank gun, not antiaircraft.

We were all in the field the morning that I was taken prisoner. Just before daylight the Germans came in

on us in an overwhelming force. They were wearing a camouflage of white clothing, that blended in with

the three inches of snow. Everything seemed to happen at once. There was nothing to shoot at with a

50mm AT. Gun. Some got to the holes, that is an assumption. I made it out of the orchard to a row of

houses. By then it was daylight. That is when I got picked up. Some of us did not carry rifles. I was armed


12/31

with a 45 cal. Pistol. When the German soldier told me to halt I put the pistol in its holster. I had been

carrying it in my hand and I dont think he saw the weapon.

The soldier did not search me until we got out to a road. There were six other Americans standing

against a wall guarded by another German soldier. I fell in line and we were all searched. When my

captor found the pistol in its holster, he gestured to back hand me. We had to stand erect while mortar

rounds and artillery shells landed near us. Our infantry were in buildings and hiding behind things in the

street, firing at the Germans coming up the street near where we stood. We expected our guards to

move us, just to protect themselves, but they had to stand there and watch the show.

A tank destroyer (open turret tank) stopped in front of us, one of the crew got shot and they threw him

out onto the street to make room to fire and traverse the guns. The tank commander did not know

where the firing was coming from until one of the guards pointed to a window. By then, they had

thrown the second man onto the street. The tank fired a 75mm shell through the window that the small

arms fire was coming from, then drove on down the street.

The Germans were pushing the Americans back; as they fought on past us there were a lot of Germans

getting hurt. I dont know about the Americans because I could not see them. I could see the muzzleflashes from their rifles. It seemed that is about the only target that the Germans had to shoot at. When

they ran me out of the orchard, I knew that there were Americans in the main part of town. My

intentions were to get to them. I did not get very far before I got caught.

Two soldiers marched us to an area that had a few prisoners from another division and a large group of

Germans, could have been their replacement supply. We attracted some attention. Some of the young

men would come by and stare at us. I saw a German soldier pull a button from a prisoners overcoat for

a souvenir.

And the soldier searched a prisoner and found a small can with a picture of an ear of corn on the label.

He tossed it over his shoulder and said, swine essen (pig food). That could have been laughable underdifferent circumstances.


13/31

,ZRXOGOLNHWRLQWHUMHFWIRUDPRPHQWDQGLQFOXGHWZROHWWHUVUHFHLYHGE\P\JUHDWJUHDW

JUDQGPRWKHU0UV'RUD6WHZDUWDQG/LHXWHQDQW9DQ1RRUWFRQFHUQLQJP\JUHDWJUDQGXQFOH

&OLIIRUG%6WHZDUW

'HDU0UV6WHZDUW

7KLVOHWWHULVWRFRQILUPP\UHFHQWWHOHJUDPLQZKLFK\RXZHUHUHJUHWIXOO\LQIRUPHGWKDW\RXU

VRQ3ULYDWH)LUVW&ODVV&OLIIRUG%6WHZDUWKDVEHHQUHSRUWHGPLVVLQJLQDFWLRQ

LQ)UDQFHVLQFH-DQXDU\

,NQRZWKDWDGGHGGLVWUHVVLVFDXVHGE\IDLOXUHWRUHFHLYHPRUHLQIRUPDWLRQRUGHWDLOV

7KHUHIRUH,ZLVKWRDVVXUH\RXWKDWDWDQ\WLPHDGGLWLRQDOLQIRUPDWLRQLVUHFHLYHGLWZLOO

EHWUDQVPLWWHGWR\RXZLWKRXWGHOD\DQGLILQWKHPHDQWLPHQRDGGLWLRQDOLQIRUPDWLRQLV

UHFHLYHG,ZLOODJDLQFRPPXQLFDWHZLWK\RXDWWKHH[SLUDWLRQRIWKUHHPRQWKV

7KHWHUPPLVVLQJLQDFWLRQLVXVHGRQO\WRLQGLFDWHWKDWWKHZKHUHDERXWVRUVWDWXVRIDQ

LQGLYLGXDOLVQRWLPPHGLDWHO\NQRZQ,WLVQRWLQWHQGHGWRFRQYH\WKHLPSUHVVLRQWKDWWKH

FDVHLVFORVHG,ZLVKWRHPSKDVL]HWKDWHYHU\HIIRUWLVH[HUWHGFRQWLQXRXVO\WRFOHDUXSWKH

VWDWXVRIRXUSHUVRQQHO8QGHUZDUFRQGLWLRQVWKLVLVDGLIILFXOWWDVNDV\RXPXVWUHDGLO\

UHDOL]H([SHULHQFHKDVVKRZQWKDWPDQ\SHUVRQVUHSRUWHGPLVVLQJLQDFWLRQDUHVXEVHTXHQWO\

UHSRUWHGDVSULVRQHUVRIZDUEXWDVWKLVLQIRUPDWLRQLVIXUQLVKHGE\FRXQWULHVZLWKZKLFKZH

DUHDWZDUWKH:DU'HSDUWPHQWLVKHOSOHVVWRH[SHGLWHVXFKUHSRUWV

7KHSHUVRQDOHIIHFWVRIDQLQGLYLGXDOPLVVLQJRYHUVHDVDUHKHOGE\WKLVXQLWIRUDSHULRGRI

WLPHDQGDUHWKHQVHQWWRWKH(IIHFWV4XDUWHUPDVWHU.DQVDV&LW\0LVVRXULIRUGLVSRVLWLRQ

DVGHVLJQDWHGE\WKHVROLGHU

3HUPLWPHWRH[WHQGWR\RXP\KHDUWIHOWV\PSDWK\GXULQJWKLVSHULRGRIXQFHUWDLQW\

7KHOHWWHUDERYHLVVLJQHG6LQFHUHO\\RXUV-$8OLR0DMRU*HQHUDO7KH$GMXWDQW*HQHUDO

'HDU/LHXWHQDQW9DQ1RRUW


14/31

DWWDFN6LQFHWKDWWLPHDVLVWREHH[SHFWHGZHKDYHKDGQRZRUGIURP\RXUIULHQGRUDQ\RI

WKHPHQZKRZHUHZLWKKLPDWWKHWLPH

:HKDYHKHDUGXQRIILFLDOO\DERXWDIHZRIRXUPHQZKRZHUHPLVVLQJLQWKHVDPHDFWLRQDQGDUH

QRZSULVRQHUVRIZDUEXWWKHVHUHSRUWVDUHLQFRPSOHWHDQGQRWYHULILHG7KHIDFWWKDWZH

KDYHQRWKHDUGIURP3IF6WHZDUWGRHVQRWQHFHVVDULO\PHDQWKDWKHLVORVWEHFDXVHFRPPXQLFDWLRQVIURP*HUPDQ\WKURXJKWKH,QWHUQDWLRQDO5HG&URVVKDYHEHHQPXFKGHOD\HG

UHFHQWO\E\KHDY\$OOLHGDLUDQGJURXQGDWWDFNVRQHQHP\FRPPXQLFDWLRQVDQGUDLOIDFLOLWLHV

LQWKLVFORVLQJVWDJHRIWKH(XURSHDQZDU

,DSSUHFLDWHWKHDQ[LHW\\RXPXVWIHHODERXW3IF6WHZDUWDQG,DPVRUU\WKDW,FDQQRWJLYH

\RXDQ\PRUHLQIRUPDWLRQFRQFHUQLQJWKHFLUFXPVWDQFHVEXWWKHWDFWLFDOVLWXDWLRQZDVD

FRQIXVHGRQHDQGPDQ\GHWDLOVRIWKHDFWLRQDUHVWLOOODFNLQJRUXQREWDLQDEOHDWWKLVWLPH

,WLVRXUSHUVRQDOKRSHKHUHLQWKHUHJLPHQWWKDWWKHORVVRI\RXUIULHQGZLOOSURYHWREH

RQO\DWHPSRUDU\RQHDOWKRXJKLWPD\EHVRPHWLPHEHIRUHDQ\GHILQLWHZRUGLVUHFHLYHG

FRQFHUQLQJKLP

7KHDERYHOHWWHULVVLJQHG6LQFHUHO\\RXUV5REHUW&&RQQHOO&DSWDLQ,QIDQWU\3HUVRQDO

RIILFHU


15/31

Everything was going fine until a mortar round came screaming in fast, we all knew it was coming in

close. The faster the traveling sound the closer it will land. The burst went off before we got to the

ground, we fell on each other. One man was killed; he took the brunt of it in the face. The shrapnel must

have arched over the rest of us.

The mortar shell burst started it. All hell broke loose. The Americans shelled that place with rapid fire

artillery. Burst after burst, the shells rained down. They absolutely shredded the area. Everybody

scattered, running for cover. Four of us were standing near a German half track truck, loaded with men.

We did not have much protection where we were, so we ran to a small ditch. The truck that we just left

took a direct hit.

After the American artillery barrage let up, I saw my squads truck and driver hauling a German doctor

around the area picking up the wounded. The bed of the truck was full of men, and there were three

draped across the hood. I had not seen our driver since he let us off in the orchard. The Lt. sent him on a

detail to haul ammo to Hatten, a village not too far away. He could have been caught yesterday; I didnt

get to talk to him here in this area.

The Germans rounded up all of their prisoners and herded us in the opposite direction than their armywas going. We walked for about thirty minutes and came to a concrete pill box with walls two feet thick,

and in the possession of the Germans. The carnage was strewn all over the place. At least forty bodies of

American and German soldiers stretched out in the snow died fighting over a hunk of concrete in the

middle of an orchard.

The encounter must have taken place the day before, because the bodies were frozen, which was a plus

for us. We were elected to drag the bodies to a road not far away. We segregated them at the road side

until the German in charge told us to put them in one pile. He said that they wont be able to fight

anymore. We finished that unpleasant chore in about an hour, then resumed our unpredictable journey.

This is a gray area for me. I cant remember just how everything fell into place; we were interrogated bysome German officers at an army installation. The men that were carrying their wounded friends put

them down in the snow and went inside asking for medical help. There were two that were shot up so

badly that they could not walk. They had a lot of blood on their clothing. One of them asked for food, he

was told to eat snow. But they were taken in for treatment, and hopefully admitted to a hospital.

The first food that I received after I was picked up was thirty six hours later. We stopped at a military

unit where they gave us a piece of black bread. That was it until later that afternoon. Before boarding a

train we received a cup of Kohlrabi soup (large turnip).

We were put in cattle cards so crowded it was hard to sit down. From there to Stalag 4-B was a

nightmare. The cars were open air. The boards on the sides were six inches apart. Snow, rain, wind, blew

in on us. Trains would get strafed every time they got caught on the tracks. During the day, we would sit

sidetracked without food, or water, all day, waiting for darkness to travel a few miles, then get

sidetracked again for a military units train to pass.

We traveled from Strasbourg to the middle of Germany. There were many stops, and no place to sleep.

And food just was not on those Germans menu. We finally arrived at Stalag 4-B, the only stop along this

long trek that we were provided a place with facilities for an overnight stay.


16/31

I was told that Stalag 4-B was originally a British NCO Camp. Many of its occupants have been a guest

here since Dunkirk, the scene of the evacuation of over 300,000 allied troops under fire in 1940 as

France fell to Germany. Our hosts are part of a group that did not get evacuated. The British did not

seem overjoyed with the Americans invading the turf that they had occupied for the last five years.

I was grateful for the warm buildings, the regularity of the rations, hot water, and black bread in the

mornings. It was definitely an improvement. The British told me about work parties that new prisoners

get sent on. After three or four days of lounging around, anxiety set in. The word anxious has been my

middle name for years.

Two days later I welcomed an order for me to go on a work party. We were not told the destination, but

this safari was from Stalag 4-B to Leipzig. Again we rode trains, walked, and were trucked into Leipzig.

We six men joined a group of twenty-five other prisoners, all Americans that had not been there very

long.

They were housed in an old night club dine and dance kind of a building. The dining floor encircled the

dance floor, which was on a lower level two steps down. There were wooden double decked bunks, built

to hold straw, no blankets or pillows. We slept in our clothes; we had one stove to heat this large room,but there was no wood or coal to burn. At that time of the year, nights were all three dog nights. If we

found coal at the rail station where we worked we would bring it back to the Stalag and make a fire.

Our daily food rations were a three oz. piece of black bread, and a cup of hot water stained with food

coloring to give it a coffee look. We didnt receive anything at noon. At six in the evening, we were fed a

large bowl of vegetable soup and five small boiled potatoes. The soup was, either, carrot or string bean

soup during the week days. Sometimes we got potato soup on Sunday. The string bean soup was just

that strings. We had to chew the beans and spit out the strings. They were beyond the green bean

stage.

Our duties required twelve of the twenty-four hours of the day. We arose at six am, walked three orfour miles to the center of Leipzig where we worked at the rail station. A lot of our work was filling in

bomb craters. The rail station was bombarded frequently.

We had help repairing the tracks, prisoners and forced laborers strung out for a mile replacing ties and

rails after an air raid by the British or the Americans. When the air raid alarm sounded we all would run

for shelter. I was lucky; I still had combat boots. Most of the men had worn their shoes out, and had to

wear wooden shower shoes, German issue. They would remove their wooden shoes in order to run at a

decent rate of speed during an air raid.

After an air raid it would take some time for the work detail to regroup. Three of us were sitting on a

bench near the railroad station waiting for the rest of the men to return, probably the ones with the

wooden shoes. A high ranking SS Officer came by and stopped. Then tried to strike us with his brief case.

After we stood up he walked away. That is demanding attention.

This routine that I described was a normal day at this small prison camp. I spent about three months

there. One day our work detail was crossing the street at a corner where we were delayed some, and a

civilian told us that Roosevelt had died. This was April 12, 1945.


17/31

We witnessed a bombing at the Stalag. One afternoon a group of British bombers flown by Canadians

made a run right over our area. ACK ACK exploded two or three of the planes bomb loads. The planes

disintegrated over our heads: the wheels, men, and parts of the planes came falling down. We picked

up eight men. Not one of them was an officer. All the pilots were sergeants. We were told that was not

uncommon.

My group was getting ready to march back to the Stalag from the railroad station. I took a good look at

them, and myself. We had to be the most down-trodden, dirty, rag-tag looking men in all of Germany.

We all had body lice, and most of us had diarrhea. We were a bunch of skeletons with dirty clothes

draped over us. I weight ninety six lbs. My normal was 122 lbs.

The only US Army clothing that I had left was a light sweater and combat boots. That day I was wearing a

Belgium cap, an ugly coat over my sweater, green Russian breeches with laced legs, and combat boots. I

had a three-day beard and an older goatee, and needed a haircut. Our personal hygiene really suffered; I

dont care to go anywhere with that.

We met some British prisoners on the tracks that had access to a radio. They would inform us when the

Allies made a substantial gain on the line.

One morning we started marching in the opposite direction of our job. We learned that the Russians

were getting close and the guards did not want to surrender to them. We walked for about two days

until we met a patrol from the 69th

division. They disarmed the guards and told us to go back that way

and pointed.

I teamed up with Lou Polaski. He and I walked to the nearest village. Lou went into the house and found

a piece of bacon, and a large silver looking platter. I went to the potato mound, removed my under shirt,

and filled it with potatoes. The people would not give us a chance to ask for food. They would not

answer the door, so Lou kicked it open. There was no one home, or they were hiding in the cellar.

Lou nor I were armed. We were just dirty and hungry. We could have armed ourselves. But chose not to.

We walked out of the village with our loot to a small wooded area and camped. Lou sliced the bacon

and I gathered the firewood. He did not peel the potatoes, because we both agreed that was being too

wasteful.

The feast of bacon and potatoes caused us to become deathly ill; we had not eaten bacon or any kind of

meat for six months. We didnt get much sleep that night. When we did doze off the camp fire would die

out and we would get cold. We didnt argue about whose turn it was, we both went looking for firewood.

It was not like we had to get up out of a warm bed and dress, then find firewood. IT was like getting up

off the cold ground and find firewood.

The next morning we met a group that the army quarter master corps had rounded up. We were all

herded into a field where they had set up a tent with shower heads and a wooden floor. It was a modern

portable rig that heated the water there in the field. It had a large canvas water vat, a water truck to

refill it when needed. We formed a single line and when we got near the tent we removed all our

clothes, and threw them in a pile, went through, and showered with hot water and soap. We dried off

and in single-file were sprayed by two men, one on each side of us shooting us with delousing power.

This was done near a road in an open field, at mid-day.


18/31

We received clean clothes and we were loaded into trucks and hauled to a German fort near Halle. We

could not believe the attention we were getting. An American captain was in charge of the small fort.

They fed us for one week before the army could muster enough planes to fly us out of Germany. We had

to fly out because the Americans and the Germans had blown every bridge between Halle and Omaha

Beach.

We had an unpleasant flight; the air turbulence was bad. The plane was crowded and almost all of the

men were air sick. I sat on an ammo box in the tail section, got rolled around like a football, but any

unpleasantries that occur I can soothe with one thought: I am free and on my way home!

The movement of liberated prisoners of war, out of road and rail crippled Germany in April of 1945 was

impressive, the army must of used every C-46 and C-47 in Europe the day that I was flown from Halle,

Germany to Rheims, France. When we arrived at Rheims airport, there were planes stacked sky-high

circling the field. Our plane fell in line and joined the merry-go-round. It took twenty minutes to work

our way to the ground.

We stopped between Rheims and Le Harve for two days and I cant remember the reason, but it was in aBritish zone and they gave us a partial pay in scrip. French franc notes. An American officer told us later

to consider it a gift that it would not be deducted from our pay. During my nine-month tour of Europe I

received pay from the Americans, British, and Germans. The Germans paid us twenty deutsche marks

monthly.

My next stop was Camp Lucky Strike near Rouen. This is where they fed us well, issued new clothes. The

treatment that I received there was absolutely overwhelming. So many nice things happened there; the

prize was when General Eisenhower flew from Rheims to visit us. He was introduced by a full Colonel to

a group of 150 men.

The colonel said, Men, to the world, this is Gen. Eisenhower, the Supreme Commander of the AlliedForces of the European Theater, but to us, its just Ike. We all yelled like a group of school girls and boys.

He gave us a mean look and raised his hand. We, at a snap, were quiet. Ike said, Im not a movie actor;

Im a GI, then smiled. His face cracked all the way open when he smiled. We yelled again. He told us

that he would send us home on the first available transportation that comes to that port (which was Le

Harve). Some of you may sleep on the deck or in the hallways, Im going to get you on a ship, and if I

hear anyone of you complaining about the sleeping arrangements I will personally kick the hell out of

you. The new yelled again. He flew back to Rheims.

Lou and I were signed up to go to England but could not get a flight out. He and I lost contact, because

he was the 28th

division and across camp. Each division sent representatives to Lucky Strike to take care

of their people that showed up there. The 42nd

Rainbow Division had a few men, not a lot. I met Red

Lower across camp; an air force sergeant that I had just met talked me into walking with him across

camp to see his friend. His friend turned out to be Red Lower from Lemoore that I had known for years.

We boarded the ship that Ike promised us in La Harve harbor. This is the eighth ship that I have sailed on;

it was warm and sunny most of the way back to Virginia. There are only two things that I remember

other than having nice weather. When it was warm and sunny on deck most of the men took their shirts

off and 80 percent of them had very bad wound scars on their chests and arms. One other thing was the

dice game called shooting craps. There was more money in craps games than I had ever seen. One had


19/31

so much money on the floor he had to stuff part of it in his shirt. Every day all the way across the

Atlantic the dice games were like that.

We left Virginia on a small troop train, all the men from California. The first time we stopped was two

hours in West Virginia; the people tried to pay for all of our drinks but we put money on the tables and

ran when it was time to go. Our next stop was in St. Louis, Mo. We sat side-tracked for three hours near

the station. We lined up at the nearest liquor store. The manager sold a fifth for five dollars. He said I

gain on some of the bottles and lose on some. I bought two bottles and went back to the train.

I offered the engineer a drink and he just gave me a little chuckle. I told him that I would like to ride on

the engine; he and the crew all said, climb up here. So I got to ride on the engine for about six miles to

the next small town.

I made a bad choice; the engine was a coal burner, and it was hot and dirty up there. We all had fun

coming across the streets. We left about twenty men, when we had a two-hour layover; the guys that

were drinking, if they met a girl that they liked they would not come back to the train.

We were in Northern California and stopped in a small town for thirty minutes. Another soldier and Isaw a police car sitting near the station. We asked the officer where the nearest liquor store was located,

he said hop in I will take you there and back. We bought a bottle each and the officer brought us back to

the train. We thanked him, and he said no problem. Later that day we reached our destination: Camp

Beal, North of Sacramento. Everybody was nice to us, even the police.

I dont remember the time or dates, but I left Beal and went to Armona and Gardena. I had on my

person or I received orders to report to the Baltimore Hotel in Santa Barbara. Our duties there were to

live the good life and get physical examinations when called. We were there for two weeks. I was

discharged Sept. 19, 1945.

MY THIRD TRIP OUT OF THE COUNTRY

I enlisted in the United States Regular Army July 3, 1946. I chose harbor craft in the transportation corps.

I signed up in San Francisco, Ca., and was sent to Camp Beal, Calif. I had previously spent three years,

nine months, and fourteen days in the infantry of the army of the United States.

From Camp Beal I was sent to Fort McClellan, Alabama. There I met a sergeant that had re-enlisted;

neither of us could figure out why we were there. The first sergeant at McClellan was also puzzled, but

told us to lounge around until he could find a job that fit out military occupational specialty (MOS). No. I

asked to join the harbor craft, boats.

The first sergeant must have forgotten about us, because we kept a low profile, spent some time in

Anniston, a town near the fort. Most of our time was spent at the Post Exchange beer garden. The

second afternoon at the PX. We met an old master sergeant that had hash marks from his elbow down

to his wrist (service stripes). He was very friendly and we shared our bottle of booze with him.

My friend and I would go to Anniston to the Jeff Davis Hotel, and buy a bottle when needed. It was

government booze but boot-legged, because we were in a dry county. One afternoon the old sergeant

asked What is your job at the fort, and we told him the situation we were in. That we did not have a


20/31

job. My friend told the sergeant that he had asked when he re-enlisted to go to a fort in Salt Lake City,

Utah. The old Sgt. Looked at me and asked, Would you like to go to Utah, also? And I said yes

because I thought it was just conversation. It turned out that I was very wrong.

He told us that he worked at headquarters and he could send us anyplace we asked to go. The old

sergeant felt his drinks, but he was not drunk. That evening is the first time he mentioned his capacity

on the post. We talked army every evening, that was the subject that we knew best. Both of the

sergeants had been everywhere. But I felt comfortable with them. The mast Sgt. Told me the first

evening that he sat with us he thought I was a recruit. He did not elaborate on if he had or had not

changed his mind.

I was well-versed on some of the war subjects that came up because I had been there, if only for a short

time. The sergeant took our names, rank and serial no. and told us to start checking the bulletin board.

To my surprise two days later our names were on a shipping list to Utah. The old master sergeant had

his marks plus clout.

We arrived at the fort in Lake City; the Sgt. Got his niche that he was seeking, and I still had the MOS

problem. I was told by the company clerk that there was an empty bunk in the recreation building. Thisturned out to be McClellan all over again.

I went to the rec. room with my gear and found an empty bunk in a room with one other bunk. Soon a

young kid came in and introduced himself as Nelson, everybody calls me Nel. As long as I was there, I

never learned his first name. He told me he had been there for three weeks and he was trying to stay,

because he lived in Sandy, Utah a small town on the outskirts of the city.

I ask about his duties. He said, I have specific chores, other than making my bunk, and doing the

company clerk a favor occasionally. A few days later he told me he had a girl friend in Lehi, another

small town close by, and she had a girl friend, would I like to meet her? I asked about her, and he

described her as just a pretty girl. When I met her she was not what I expected, she was a lot more. Wefour went on dates, when Nel and I could afford to rent a car. Our drinking habits were different. They

would not drink a coke. IT was a fun two months.

I was sent to Yuma, Arizona Proving Grounds. They were testing Bailey Bridges on the Colorado River.

The army had one of the three 100 ton tanks there. The reason that I was sent there was someone read

in my record that I was in an antitank outfit in Europe and figured that I could drive a tank. The army

tested one bridge while I was there and Sir M. Bailey was there to watch the show. I stayed long enough

to go to Mexicali three times.

I was told here in Yuma that I was on my way to a harbor craft unit in the Pacific area. I arrived at

Pittsburg, Ca. Nov. 6, 1946. We ferried down the bay to San Francisco, and boarded a ship by the name

of Marine Jumper. This is the ninth ship I have sailed on.

We cast off in late afternoon, the ship just got under way, and almost rammed by a ferry boat. The

coxswain came, left full, and ran aground. There we sat in the middle of San Francisco Bay, all of that

night. They pumped the water ballast back and forth, tugged with tug boats, but to no avail. The tide

lifted the ship off of the mud, or whatever it was setting on. The next morning the ship was able to

resume its course.


21/31

The crew did not get water ballast equally distributed, after trying to joggle the ship off of high center

and back in the channel, the ship listed to the port the rest of the trip. During a storm we were unable to

go on deck on the port side.

The army security officer told us that we were going to Inchon, Korea. The ship docked in Yokohama

Japan to hospitalize a soldier with Leukemia. Then we went to Okinawa, from there to Inchon. It took a

long time to debark, the weather was very cold. We finally boarded a train for Seoul, and this you wont

believe: the train cars had holes in the roof. We built a fire on a piece of tin in the middle of the car. At

that time, Korea was a mess.

I was assigned to the third major port 90th

harbor craft, in Inchon. There were four in my group that

were trucked down from Seoul right to the orderly room. I was standing outside of the orderly room

with my bags and a soldier asked me if I could use some help and picked up one of my bags. His name

was Rex Repeir and we were friends for the next two years. He was very smart; he had an army IQ 132.

That was above average in our company. We drank beer and talked after work. He wanted to become

the first sergeant, and I wanted to get on a boat to operate. When we received our company assignment

I was assigned to LCT 752 and he went to the orderly room s a clerks assistant.

I moved out of the company onto 752, but I would see him at the PX (post exchange) on weekends. We

both made corporal, then buck sergeant. We were beginning to look like zebras, we joked. Rex and I

were eager and worked hard at everything that we were asked to do. The skipper of 752 asked me if I

wanted to work with the engineer to learn the job. He told me that two of the crew that had been here

longer than me did not want the job. I said, Sure, Id like to learn the engineers job.

He and I did not earn those stripes as fast or quick as I made it appear. I earned my corporal stripes

working with the engineer. I had been in the company about seven months. We had a Master Sergeant

Bush that was in charge of the LCT fleet of eight about 50 men. He kept this group functional.

Our LCT fleets primary function was to haul cargo, from ships that were anchored off shore, to a tidalbasin which trapped water at flood tide. When the tide began to fall the locks were closed. At low tide

the bay was empty due to a thirty-foot tide. There were mud flats out for almost a half of a mile at low

tide. There was a narrow channel dredged from the tidal basin locks through the mud flats that small

craft could negotiate. At low tides we were locked in and out of the basin to and from the dredged

channel.

The tides occur twice in each period of 24 hrs. and 51 minutes (lunar day). During its rise, tide is called

flood tide, and during its fall ebb tide. When the moon is full or new, the tide is unusually high and it is

called springtide; when the moon is at first or third quarter the tide is unusually low and it is called neap

(nep) tide.

I met Sgt. Bush one afternoon walking down the sea wall. He stopped me and asked if I wanted to take a

job on LCT 1142 as the engineer. He said that I was recommended by Sgt. Rogers, my skipper on LCT 752.

Naturally, I said that I would like to have the job.

I worked three months as the engineer. My luck is still holding; I was promoted to Buck Sergeant. That is

three stripes. My skipper told me that he had about three months to go before getting out of the army.

He said he and Sgt. Bush had decided that I would take over his duties when he left.


22/31

I started my training by taking the craft through the locks, and tying to an anchored fuel barge, all light

stuff like that. The skipper stressed the importance to staying current with the tides position. We were

issued a new tide sheep every month. I learned to check it quite frequently.

One afternoon the skipper received a call from the orderly room to pack his bags, he was going on an

emergency leave due to illness in his family. I woke up the next morning and realized that I had suddenly

acquired a lot of responsibility. But this is what Ive been working for, so go out there and handle it.

The dispatcher gave me an assignment to hatch #4 starboard of a victory ship. I had never tied up to a

ship anchored out in the stream before, but I watched and listened to the other two skippers when I was

on the throttles in the wheel house. I will admit: I had butterflies that first time. The skipper does not

touch the controls. He just tells the helms man to the right or to the left, and the engineer ahead or a

stern at what RPM on the tact. The small wheel house is enclosed and the men operating the controls

cant see out. The skipper stands on the coning tower. From there he can see all four points of the craft.

The LCT is 115 ft. long and 30 ft. wide, it has three engines and three screws. I made it back to the basin

the next day with about 150 tons of cargo without incident OR butterflies. Everything has gone smoothly

for me since I received that first assignment to shipside.

I was told that the skipper that went on leave would not be back, and that I had inherited the job of

operating the craft. I approached the crew on the subject of personal appearance and personal hygiene.

What I had to say to them was a more difficult task than tying an LCT onto an offshore anchored vessel. I

have not had training in diplomacy.

I had no alternative but to tell them straight-out that they had to change and wash their clothes and visit

the shower room more frequently. One member of the crew, Cliff Roberts, did not need my advice. He

was Mr. Clean, period. He invited me to go back to Massachusetts with him after we were discharged.

The difficult one, Tex Hall he wore the same clothes every day. I never learned where he was from.

After we discussed the importance of soap and water, hopefully Hall will change his habits. I told the

men, After we get this vessel and ourselves cleaned up, Bush and the inspecting officers will let up with

all that flak weve been receiving on Saturdays inspections.

We are very lucky to get a boat in the condition that LCT 1142 is in. The six engines are diesel. They have

been well-serviced by previous crews; there was no water or oil in the bilges. The three main engines

225 hp gray marines are in excellent condition, and so are the two generators. We alternate their

running time, twelve hours on and twelve hours off. They generate electricity for the system. The ramp

engine is in perfect condition, which we seldom use.

Its been two months since we discussed getting hoar frost 42 (radio call name) in shipshape, and the

results are great. Everyone in the crew is participating in the program with enthusiasm. Weve made a

lot of assignments, and hauled a lot of cargo, and been passing Saturdays inspections.

We received an assignment from the dispatcher while tied at the fuel barge to proceed to the east end

of the tidal basin to pick up 150 drums of oil. Then stand by for further orders. Later my captain came by

and told me to take the drums around Womi Island to an old Japanese Submarine Base.


23/31

The captain gave me a hand-drawn map, showing where to unload the oil. I told him, The tide is

receding. He looked at his tide sheet, and said that I had time to get unloaded before low tide. It did

not take the Koreans long to unload the few drums. When new were about one quarter of a mile from

the sea wall, I ran aground, and there we sat for the next three days. The captain didnt ask me, What

took you so long, and I did not say anything about I told you so.

I had a lot of assignments to a lot of ships during my stay in Inchon. They were all cargo, and troop ships,

except the hospital ship Hope. It was very large, and attracted a lot of attention, and traffic at shipside.

On one trip out, I noticed the mast had a one star generals flag flying. Also Tokyo Rose was aboard in

the ships brig on her way back to a West Virginia prison.

Another ship with a story that I worked was the flying Enterprise. It sank off the coast of England in a

storm. The odd part of the story about the ship, no one seemed to know exactly what type of cargo

went down with it. One story was that the ship was carrying gold, another claimed antique furniture.

The Flying Cloud, a ship that frequently dropped its hook in Inchon Harbor, had a salty skipper, with a

salty tang to his name, Davy Jones. The story went that a rebellious group, somewhere in the orient,

were holding two Americans a Marine Sergeant and a Navy Chief prisoners.

The Flying Cloud ready to set sail after discharging some cargo at a port in the area where the Americans

were being held, Jones demanded the release of the Americans, to be turned over to him. He

threatened them with a mock battleship sitting off shore. The bluff did not work; he was fired on by a

small war vessel and almost lost his ship before he could get back out to sea.

The crew of the LCT was exposed to a lot of scuttlebutt like that, by the big ships crew. Most of us

enjoyed listening to their stories. I have stayed tied to a ship as long as two days, getting a load.

Occasionally we would go aboard and visit, or one of their crew would climb down on to our craft and

chat.

On July 2, 1947 I received an assignment to report to hatch #3 starboard, of the SS Jackson Victory. We

tied to the ship and I went aboard to check in with the army security officer, which was normal

procedure. As I walked back to where I would climb down to the LCT, I hared the ships horn blast. I knew

that it was an emergency signal of some kind, because I had never heard a ships horn blow while

anchored here in Inchon before.

To my surprise, I saw LCT 1142 head out to sea. One of the ships crew told me that one of their men

had fallen over the side, and the small craft was chasing after him. Fletcher and the crew saw the

seaman dive into the water after a baseball that he accidentally dropped over the side.

Fred Fletcher, the engineer, and the crew knew that the tide was receding, and the man in the water

was in serious trouble, and they could not wait around for me to show.


24/31

3RUW&RPPDQGHU

UG0HGLXP3RUW

,QFKRQ.RUHD

'HDU6LU

,ZLVKWRFDOOWR\RXUDWWHQWLRQWKHFRPPHQGDEOHDFWLRQVRIWKH6NLSSHUDQGFUHZRIWKH/&7

DW+DWFKVWDUERDUGRIWKHVV-DFNVRQ9LFWRU\DWKRXUVRQQG-XO\

:KHQFUHZPHPEHURIWKLVYHVVHO*HRUJH:DUUHQ$EOHERGLHG6HDPDQDFFLGHQWDOO\IHOO

RYHUERDUGDQGZDVFDUULHGDZD\IURPWKHVKLSE\WKHFXUUHQWWKH0DVWHURIWKH/&7RQKLVRZQ

LQLWLDWLYHFDVWRIIIURPWKHVKLSDQGZHQWWRWKHUHVFXH

%\KLVSURPSWDFWLRQDQGDEOHKDQGOLQJRIKLVFUDIW*:DUUHQZDVTXLFNO\UHVFXHGZLWKQRLOO

HIIHFWV

7KHDERYHOHWWHULVVLJQHG5HVSHFWIXOO\\RXUV:P30DJDQQ0DVWHUVV-DFNVRQ9LFWRU\

68%-(&7 &RPPHQGDWLRQ

72 &RPPDQGLQJ2IILFHU

$WWDFKHGLQFOXGHGLVDOHWWHUUHFHLYHGIURP0DVWHU66-DFNVRQ9LFWRU\FRQFHUQLQJWKHUHVFXHRIDPHUFKDQWVHDPDQE\/&7,WLVXQGHUVWRRGWKDWWKLVZDV

HIIHFWHGZDVWKH/&7FRPPDQGHGE\)UHG,)OHWFKHUWKHHQJLQHHU

,DPYHU\SOHDVHGWRUHFHLYHDQGSDVVRQWR\RXVXFKDOHWWHUDQGZLVKWRFRPPHQG\RXRQWKHPDQQHULQZKLFKWKH/&7ZDVKDQGOHGDQGWKHUHVFXHHIIHFWHG)UHG,

)OHWFKHULVWREHFRPPHQGHGSDUWLFXODUO\IRUKLVLQLWLDWLYHDVZHOODVSURPSWDQG

HIILFLHQWDFWLRQV:KLOHQRWSUHVHQWWKHVNLSSHURIWKH/&7&OLIIRUG6WHZDUW

GHVHUYHVFUHGLWIRUKDYLQJWUDLQHGDFUHZZKLFKZDVFDSDEOHRIVXFKHIIHFWLYH

DFWLRQ

7KHDERYHOHWWHULVVLJQHG-DPHV+&O\EXUQ&RORQHO&RPPDQGLQJ

At another date, I was hauling troops from a ship that was anchored off shore into C-pier in Inchon. The

ship had a barge tied under the gang plank for the troops to land on before boarding the LCT (landing


25/31

craft tank) that I was operating. The LCT was tied to the barge. We received orders that we were loaded

and to move out.

There were people on the ships deck looking down at us getting ready to cast off, I noticed my company

commander in the group also watching. I told the crew to pull in our lines. The engines were idling

ahead; we drifted away from the barge fare enough to clear it, at least two feet.

Everything looked good, so I told the engineer through the speaker tube to put the throttles at full

ahead which was a normal act IF the craft is clear of whatever you are tied to. After you gain some

speed, throttle back to whatever is comfortable. All ahead full was definitely the wrong order.

I fouled up big time, in front of a large audience. One of our bumpers got entangled with a cleat on the

barge, and I stripped the barge, and its lines from the ship everything went with the LCT when. When I

realized that we had taken on extra cargo, I stopped the engines momentarily. The barge was close

enough for the deck hands to get our bow line made fast to one of its forward cleats.

With the barge tied snugly to our portside we went completely around the ship, and landed the barge

against the camel that I earlier pulled it from. The ships deck hands helped our crew with the lines. Iadjusted the visor on my cap down to a point where I would not make eye contact with my captain on

the deck. We got under way as quickly as possible.

This will be my last assignment of the day. After I drop these men off at C-pier, we will tie up to an

anchored fuel barge for the night. I will call in the morning, report at 7:30am, and receive my orders for

the day.

My next assignment was very unusual. I was elected to fly to Yokohama, Japan, with a crew of three

men to help escort an LCT from Japan to Korea, towed by an LST (landing ship tank). Our duties were to

take the craft out of the harbor, then help attach a 200 ft. tow line to the ship. Some of the more

important duties were to stand watch, service to the generators, and to make sure the running l ightswere working properly while in tow at sea. There had been two other LCTs brought over by this method.

The four of us boarded a C-46 plane at Kimpo Air Base near Seoul. We flew to an air base near Tokyo. An

army major met us with a small truck, and took us to a camp in Yokohama. He warned us that the

weather people are expecting bad weather for a few days. We may be delayed in Japan for a short time.

We spent almost a week in Yokohama before the weather cleared. The major that was in charge of the

detail came by early one morning and hauled us around the harbor to Asono Dock, where our LCT was

tied. He told me to take the LCT out of the harbor and tie on to LST 872. I came up close to the ship and

their crew attached a 200 ft. tow line and bridle to our bow. We were under way within fifteen minutes,

on our way to Korea.

We ran into foul weather late in the afternoon. Our tow ship was manned by a Japanese crew. The

weather was getting nasty so the skipper pulled into a snug harbor near a fishing village and dropped

anchor for he remained of the night.

We weighed anchor early, and sailed all day in bad weather. We were getting tossed around pretty good

on the end of that 200ft tether. I was on watch from midnight til 2am. The small LCT was slapping the

waves so hard the bow ramp sheared off at ten minutes til 2am just before I was supposed to get

relieved.


26/31

I did not have to go down and shake my relief, he and the other two came out of the focsile like a shot.

When the ramp fell off, the water came rushing down the deck with such force it rolled full 50 gal drums

of oil all the way to the stern bulkhead. The noise made by the drums, rolling on the metal deck got the

sleeping crews attention.

The thunder and lightning was fierce. It seemed every cloud was filled to capacity with thunder bolts.

The lightning lit up the whole universe. I could see in each flash the LST ahead of us like it was 2 oclock

in the afternoon. The ship slowed down some, and that lessened the amount of water coming on the

deck. The storm subsided before daybreak.

We had along stressful night, but things are changing for the better. After the weather cleared some,

the LST captain sent a dinghy back, and the four of us transferred to the LST. The following morning we

were off to Kobe, Japan, a few miles, when we made another transfer to an air sea rescue PT Boat,

operated by the army air force, or air corp. It was powered by two V-12 Packard Engines. The torpedo

tubes had been removed, smoothed out, and polished. It was a special boat.

The A.S.R.P.T. dropped us off in Kobe. A few days later, on my birthday Oct. 2, 1947, we were on a traingoing back to Yokohama. The train arrived in Tokyo at 9:10pm. We had to change trains in a very busy

station. There were people, bicycles, rickshaws, and more people, in and around the station.

Due to dumb luck we pushed our way on to the right train going to Yokohama. American military did not

need a ticket to board a train or a bus. A soldier from the eleventh air borne told me that we were on

the right train. We got settled in camp about midnight.

I reported to the major the next morning and explained to him how, and when, the ramp accident

occurred. He did not seem to be upset over the incident. He just said, We will have to wait until after

the typhoon season to finish the job.

Two days later we were aboard the Admiral Mayo on our way to Inchon. The Mayo is the eleventh ship

that Ive sailed on since I was drafted in 1941. I am now on my second year of the second hitch of my

army stint.

I am anxious to get back to the old routine of operating LCT 1142. I enjoyed my assignment to Japan

most of the time, but was disappointed with the results. I would have felt a lot better about myself if I

had been successful in completing the assignment. Ive been working the port for a month since the

Japan assignment. LCT 1142 is in good shape, clean, and shiny. It wins most of the Saturday inspections.

Ive got a good crew of men. We got a new member last week, and the army gave me another stripe

upgrading me to staff sergeant. I liked that.

We brought in one hundred and fifty tons of beer two days ago. The crew and I always pilfered a few

cases. The week before, it was mayonnaise, and canned peaches. We took one of each. Food and drinks

were the only things that we pilfered, and not one item was sold or traded. We hauled everything

imaginable, and tons of it.

The Seventh Infantry Division stationed on the 38th

parallel was elected to protect all alcoholic

beverages being transported from the ship side to a warehouse in Inchon. We would get assigned to a

ship that was carrying a cargo of whiskey, or beer. We would tie to the side, and hatch, that I was


27/31

ordered. I would climb aboard the ship, report to the security officer to where we were tied, then go

back to my boat and wait to be loaded.

An armed guard would come aboard at the same time that a cargo net of liquor was set on the deck,

and would stand watch over it until the booze was unloaded onto the sea wall in the tidal basin.

Fortunately for our thirsty crew, all of the young soldier guards were hungry, so our cook would invite

the guard into the galley to chat while the meal was being prepared. That gave our experienced crew

ample time to pinch a few cases.

The last few months that I have spent in Korea were a pleasant period for me. Our job kept us busy five

days a week, and inspections on Saturday morning, which was not a problem for our energetic crew.

Everything seemed to fall into place for me. Four months after my last promotion, I was upgraded to

Tech Sergeant.

The five stripes did not come with extra responsibility. They were just a bonus. As clean and well

serviced as the crew kept LCT 1142 she deserved a Tech Sergeant skipper. Ive had no stressful

experiences lately and few mechanical problems with the boat. My daily chores were easy and simple,and keep radio contact with the company CQ (charge of quarters). At 7:30am I turn in the morning

report that all are present most of the mornings. Then I receive my assignment for the day. Ive lived the

good life for the last five or six months.

We do not get over night passes. If one of the men does not show by 7:30am I am forced to turn him in

AWOL. There is no way to cover for him. If I call in at 7:30 that all men are present or accounted for,

then alter in the day my old man gets a call from the morgue or the MPs that they have John from LCT

1142 in the brig shame on me.

I will be getting out of Korea soon, and I am pleased to go. Because things are beginning to look real bad

here. Everybody is talking war and I am not geared for it. Ive become a peace time soldier, not a warrior.The winters here are so cold, it would be almost impossible to dig a fox hole anyway.

The latest rumors are: the US Army transport general H F Hodges is enroute to Inchon from the states to

haul the men that have been here for two years backto the states. I am fortunate and pleased to have

the opportunity and required time to be eligible for this shipment.

Later in the week a large beautiful ship loomed on the horizon. It dwarfed all of the cargo ships

anchored near it. I received a call from the company CQ to pack my bags. Sgt. Bush brought a staff

sergeant aboard to relieve me of my duties. I was told to report to C-Pier to catch an LCT out to the

transport, I went aboard the big ship about noon, and sailed early in the afternoon. Destination:

Okinawa.

October 27, 1948


28/31

I cant remember how long we were at sea, before arriving in Buckner Bay. We docked in the afternoon

and spent the night there, I went to town with a group of four men. Rex was one of them. We were

warned when we picked up our passes that the ship sailed at 8am sharp. We hitchhiked to Naha and

hiked back to the ship. It was late, and no one would give us a ride. So we did what we had to do. If

necessary we would have jogged, because missing the ship was definitely not in our plan. This was my

twelfth voyage.

What little I saw of Okinawa I liked very much. It had a mild tropical atmosphere, blue sky, green water

and foliage covered mountains. Inchon, Korea, was a dismal place to spend two years. I did not see very

much of that country. There was no way a soldier could travel on his own; they didnt have public

transportation from Inchon to Seoul.

Japan was a more modern country, but bland. Snow capped Mt. Fuji is a spectacle, from a distance it

looks like a manmade monument or a pyramid with rounded corners that grew out of the ground, with

no base or foundation. I was in Tokyo, Japan, three different times. I traveled by train from Kobe to

Yokohama at night time, so I did not see very much of that country, either.

We left Okinawa, and docked in Yokohama for about six hours before we sailed for San Francisco, Ca.The ship took on some cargo, and more troops. A squad of first cavalry division soldiers escorted a group

of prisoners aboard. Some were in leg irons and chains. They were convicted of different crimes, one

murder, some rapes, an ex colonel for robbing a bank in Tokyo.

The guards and prisoners passed close by where we were standing on the deck, on their way to the

ships brig. The prisoners did not look all that much different from the soldiers standing near me, other

than wearing a chain truss.

The first cav. guards were all staff sergeants or above. The first three grade NCOs bunked in the same

compartment. My bunk was near two of prisoner guards. We talked a lot about the prisoners, they were

an evil group. One of the staff sergeants guarded the prisoner by the name of Lou Jenkins (may bemisspelled) a former worlds champion professional boxer. I believe he fought as a middle weight.

The first cav. men told some interesting stories about Lou, Lew, Im not sure. Lou was a pleasant person.

He was from Sweetwater, Texas, and would sing a song that he made up about Sweetwater Lou, to the

tune of Sue City Sue. A few years back I read an article in a magazine that revealed his rocky life.

According to the article I read, Lou was a piece of work.

A black kid came aboard at Yokohama and he was not shy. He introduced himself as Stack of Dollars, and

would gamble. He had a large roll for a few days, then acquired a new name. Stack of Pennies. The

gamblers from Korea picked him like a chicken. Everybody loved the guy. One Sgt. grubstaked Stack of

Pennies trying to jump-start him, but to no avail. Next stop: San Francisco.

Nov. 16, 1948


29/31

Debarkation in Frisco is a total blank, Im sure we stayed at one of the forts, I know I received orders, but

I cant come up with where. I came up Los Angeles and bought a new car. A 1949 Ford two-door. I went

back to Hanford to see some of the girls that the air base soldiers didnt marry.

I had two months furlough coming. After I depleted my sixty days, and exhausted myself, I reported in at

Fort Baker at the North end of the san Francisco Golden Gate Bridge, and was told to report to the

skipper, aboard the ship General Spurgen, docked in a snug harbor in Sausalito, Ca. Marin County. This

was my thirteenth ship. The Spurgen was an army mine planter with twin steam turbine engines, radar,

and the whole shot a beautiful ship. The crew wore navy work clothes, white hats as well. We were

called sailgers.

Jan. 1, 1949

The General Spurgen and its crew duties were to plan mines in the outer bay west of the Golden Gate

Bridge, near and beyond the potato patch. The mines were planted thirteen in a group; we maintained

thirteen groups over the outer bay. Each mine had a control wire running to an underground control

room on shore; that was in radio contact with observers stationed at vantage points on the hill. Eachmine had a short antenna, part of an activating devise, set on remote control that would fire the mine,

by the closeness of a ship.

I spent seven months aboard he Gen. Spurgen. We made different runs to the Farallon Islands. Once we

had a load of open top fifty gal. drums of nuclear waste, from the universities, and experimental labs. An

army ship Niles made most of the waste and junk runs near the Farallons. Twenty years later, diver

found sponges the size of jeeps in the nuclear waste dumping area.

We spent two weeks in dry dock, up the Oakland Estuary, near the Oakland, Alameda Island Tube. A

Navy vessel was blocked up in the bay next to our ship. Occasionally a few sailors from the Navy Shipwould come aboard for coffee and we would offer them pie, a cold cut sandwich, cheese, anything they

cared to sample. They were awed that we had access to all the food at any time of the day.

The sailors claimed that every food container in their galley had a lock on it. When they saw some of the

men changing their white sailor hats and dungarees to an army dress uniform, that blew their minds.

The ship yard workers finished repairing our ship, and we returned to our snug harbor across the bay in

Sausalito.

We were working in the outer bay one afternoon. About two pm the skipper received and emergency

call to help a large cargo ship that had lost control under the Golden Gate Bridge. He ran our ship at

battle speed until we reached the area. By then two thugs had the ship under control.

The reason the ship got into trouble is that the San Francisco Bay is such a large body of water and has

such a small outlet to the sea, helped cause the problem. When the receding tide reaches its falling peak

it has generated a current so swift under the bridge, some helmsmen over steer, and their ships spin out

of control.

We came in early with plans to help the cargo ship get back on course. The thugs got there ahead

Date post:	09-Apr-2018
Category:	Documents
Upload:	leah-dawdy
View:	217 times
Download:	0 times

World War II and Beyond: A Veteran's Memory Log

Documents