US Army Chapter 4

NUREMBERG GERMANY
CHAPTER 4
(Be sure to start at Chapters 1-2-3)

Junior and I arrived by train in Nuremberg’s huge train terminal. It was an open steel framed dome structure without any glass. I realized that the bombing had removed all the glass from the terminal. Some of the steel beams were bent and construction was going full speed. We noticed piles of reclaimed brick on vacant lots on our way by Army Mercedes bus to Furth, a suburb town about five miles away, and the Headquarters of the US Army, Nuremberg Military District. Germany was divided into American, English, French, and Russian Military Districts. Germany was an occupied country and we were occupiers. I had never been an occupier. It was one of many firsts for me.

Furth was another German SS Army post. Our billet was a first class three-story building with high ceilings and two large, long windows in each room. My room was on the second floor and overlooked the old town of Furth. Old, meaning built about 1700 something. One has to go to Europe to see old housing still in use.

German MPs in OD uniforms with white helmets, and a carbine over a shoulder guarded the gates. German civilians were our guards, custodians, janitors, cooks, and gardeners. Germans were everywhere working. The American government was the biggest employer of German citizens. It was the best way to get the economy up and growing. We even bought their manufactured products and produce when possible. It was a shock to see OD painted Volkswagens all over the roads. Jeeps were hard to find in our Army motor pools. The Army bought all the first run autos the Germans produced.

We had two sets of commands. One was our Post Command of the US Army, Nuremberg Military District Headquarters; they were responsible for our room and board, sick call, role call, mail call, supply, and armory. The second and most supreme was the Signal Corps Headquarters Command; they were responsible for my time and duty. They determined my going and coming and assignments.

The first time I went to the evening chow hall, I saw Junior in line. We had our dinner together and exchanged room numbers. His room was one floor above mine. It was good to have someone I knew close by. Just before we finished our first German cooked meal, which was very good, I got a tap on my shoulder and a familiar voice asking if he could join us? It was SFC Frances Neary. He was assigned to the Quartermaster Corps, Nuremberg Military District. He was getting an apartment for his French wife to come on Post in a few weeks. He had arranged for his automobile to be delivered in France, and he would pick up his car and wife in two weeks.


LIKE YOUR DADDY TOLD YOU, “NEVER EVER BURN YOUR BRIDGES BEHIND YOU FOR YOU DO NOT KNOW WHAT EVIL MAY LURK IN YOUR FUTURE!!!!”

I reported to the Photographic Lab on the first Monday morning after arriving in Furth. The Lab was across the parade ground from my billet. It was a two-story small brick building from the street. I noticed several old Chevrolets and an old Mercedes four-door convertible parked in front. The Mercedes looked like the one Hitler rode into the large Nuremberg stadium to have his troops salute him. Hitler never saluted anyone. The stadium is the one shown in the movies of the thousands of uniformed troops standing in rows as Hitler drove through and all hailed Hitler. It had a huge swastika on the rooftop, which the invading Americans blew up on their way to Nuremberg.

I walked through the front door, and the first person I saw was MSGT. Oscar Trost. It took awhile for me to get my chin off the floor before I could talk. (I would now love to have a picture of the expression on my face at that moment.) Trost never said he was leaving Monmouth when he bid me goodbye two-weeks before. I now had one and a half years of Trost before me. He was a different man in Germany, and it turned out well in the end. He needed me as much as I needed him to make the lab a success. He greeted me with, what seemed to be genuine enthusiasm to have me in his little domain. Trost introduced me to everyone and gave me a tour of the lab and equipment. I was issued an old 4X5 Speed Graflex camera, signed all the paperwork and told to go try it out. I knew the camera wouldn’t work when I saw the holes in the bellows. Trost thought I could patch it. I did get most of the holes covered with black tape but there was one or two small holes I couldn’t find. I always had fogged film. So I wrote my Honey to pack up my camera and send it to me ASAP. Every time Trost requested a new camera, the MP’s got it.

During the war, Trost had been in the Special Services branch of the Army. Special Services (SpS) produced training films and shows for the Army. They setup the USO tours during the war, and toured the country with mock battle shows for the War Bond drives in stadiums, armories, and coliseums across the country. As a little kid I saw one in the old ice-skating rink in DC. They had German uniforms on the losing side because we always won the battles. The shows were just like the ones we played in the vacant lots on our street as kids-except we didn’t have uniforms and blanks. Trost was part of the cast and never went overseas until this assignment. Trost always amazed me by what he knew at the right time. He spoke fluent German and was an excellent capable administrator.

Our Photographic Lab consisted of: three Sergeants, one SFC, one MSGT and me a PFC. The two German civilians were:
one female lab technician, and one male repairman for the 16mm Bell and Howell projectors used in our Military District.

Sgt One was a short fat man who fought with the First Army from North Africa, to Italy, to France into Germany. With all the battles he participated in, and only be a Sergeant showed his smarts and character. He was a real professional goof-off. But he did good photographic work. He had a Fräulein and lived off Post with her. She was ugly and twice his age, but he was happy. I accompanied him on his assignments until my camera arrived from the States.

Sgt Two was soon to go home. He was short and good-looking with a Fräulein living off Post. He was very allusive and didn’t want to be known. He would check in each morning and get lost most days. When he went on assignment he’d be gone all day. I remember asking about him after not seeing him for a few months and was told he had returned to he States for discharge. He owned the Hitler Mercedes.

Sgt Three is totally not in my memory. Guess he made no impression on me at all?

SFC Four had an interesting assignment. He was second in command of the Photo Lab, but with our small operation, he had nothing much to do. Four was a hunter with a passion. He helped organize the Nuremberg Rod and Gun Club. The club organized deer, stag, and boar hunts for German-American relations. An unarmed German accompanied every American hunter armed. German citizens were not allowed to have weapons while under occupation. I went on two hunts for boar while in Germany. One was under occupation and the second was after Germany was given back to the Germans. That will be another story. The day Germany went from occupied enemy to ally.



Elvis Presley, Steve Lawrence, and I were drafted at the same time. The Army tried to get Elvis to serve in the Special Service, but Elvis wasn’t going to sing for free for the Army and went into the 32nd Heavy Armored Division and spent his time in tanks at Hohenfeld on the Russian border. Steve Lawrence served at the Armed Forces Radio in Frankfort. Steve’s wife, Edie Gorme joined him there during his tour. Of the three of us, Elvis did the toughest duty in a tank on alert maneuvers ten months out of a year. They were armed and loaded at all times. The Cold War was real on the Russian border in 1952.

http://www.steveandeydie.com/

http://history1900s.about.com/gi/dynamic/offsite.htm?site=http%3A%2F%2Fgirlsguidetoelvis.com%2Farelphot.html

US Army Chapter 3

LIBERTY SHIP
SS Woodrow Wilson-0893
Chapter 3

My orders were to report to Fort Dix New Jersey for ship assignment to Bremmerhaven, Germany. Ft. Dix is a lost memory, but we didn’t stay more than two days. We left Dix early on a train to the super fast ferry, to the ship staging center in New York City. I remember the SS Wilson as being Navy Grey and not as large as I’d like for a cruise across the North Atlantic the first week in April 1952.

My bunk was down three deck levels between the deckhouse and the second cargo hole. We went to mess by invitation over the loudspeaker. We did everything by invitation over the loudspeaker.

I met SFC Francis (Frank) Neary in the next bunk from mine. He was going back to Germany for his second tour since serving in France during the war. Frank was assigned to the Quartermaster Corps on the beaches of France after the invasion. He was part of moving the supplies from the ships to shore. Frank liked the Liberty Ships. He said the Liberty was the workhorse for supplies. They could self unload three cargo holes at the same time. While he was in France he married a pretty young French lass, who wanted to go to America. She didn’t like America and went home to France and her momma. Frank had asked to return to France but could only get assigned to Germany. He hoped she would join him there.

We docked in Liverpool, England to unload autos. That was as close as I got to England.
The cars and trucks at the dock looked like England. There was construction as far as the eye could see. Liverpool was bombed severely so all the unloading cranes were the most modern. Our Liberty ship no longer had self-loading and unloading cranes aboard. It was slick to see how the cars were unloaded.

We set sail early in the morning for Germany up the English Channel. Frank came to get me from below to see the White Cliffs of Dover. He said it was a sight to see and not to be missed. The Cliffs were beautiful. I thought came to me, the next time I see them I’ll be on my way home.

We arrived in Bremmerhaven in two days. The North Sea was rough water most of the way and those seasick were really sick. Some hadn’t eaten anything since we left New York.

Bremmerhaven was being rebuilt and their docks were the most modern I had ever seen. Made the New York docks look like antique dark ages. But then Bremmerhaven had been totally removed from the earth during the war, so anything higher than six inches above the ground was new. We had one last meal on board the SS Wilson and were moved out on a train directly from the dock.

German trains were beautiful and a real pleasure. Compartments heated for six soldiers each. We didn’t hear the clickedy-clack or anything outside. Smooth and quiet all the way to Southern Germany in the Bavarian Mountains. I don’t remember where we went for staging for assignment, but it was beautiful in the snowy mountains. It was another of Hitler’s SS troop recreation areas.

The German SS had some of the best facilities ever for their troops. The food and beds were really good. That was the first time I saw German civilians working as kitchen staff and custodial service. German civilians were everywhere doing the chores privates usually had to do. I liked that part.

Frank and I were separated during assignment and I thanked him for his friendship and hoped he would have a happy reunion with his wife.

I re-met Junior who had been in my class in Monmouth. He was a nice kid from Chicago area. Junior looked like a 22 year old named Junior. He was company. Junior got his assignment changed from Photographer to US Army Post Office (APO) in Nuremberg. My assignment came to report to the Signal Corp Photo Lab in Nuremberg. We would be going together to the city where the Nuremberg Military Trials had taken place.

The next day we were on our way by first class train to Nuremberg. Every city we went through on the train from Bremmerhaven, to the SS resort, to Nuremberg were destroyed. We had never seen such destruction nor could we have imagined it so. But the war hadn’t been over long, and we felt the Germans deserved it, considering how they destroyed England, North Africa, and the rest of Europe.

Liberty ships were mass-produced for the Merchant Marine from 1941 to 1945 to replace all the ships sunk by German submarines. It took 42 days to make a Liberty from start to finish. The Liberties had five cargo holes, two forward of the deckhouse and three aft. The Liberty and the Victory Ship were made from the same hull design. Liberty was designed for troop and cargo while the Victory was designed for cargo only. Both were armed with deck guns during the war. One even sunk a German submarine on the surface.
The Woodrow Wilson was the 893rd Liberty built. North Carolina Shipbuilding Company, Wilmington, North Carolina was the builder.

Liberty Ships built by the United States Maritime Commission in World War II
"Liberty ship" was the name given to the EC2 type ship designed for "Emergency" construction by the United States Maritime Commission in World War II. Liberty ships were nicknamed "ugly ducklings" by President Franklin Delano Roosevelt.
The first of the 2,751 Liberty ships was the SS Patrick Henry, launched on Sept. 27, 1941, and built to a standardized, mass produced design. The 250,000 parts were pre-fabricated throughout the country in 250-ton sections and welded together in about 70 days. One Liberty ship, the SS Robert E. Peary (http://www.usmm.org/peary.html) was built in four and a half days. A Liberty cost under $2,000,000.
The Liberty was 441 feet long and 56 feet wide. Her three-cylinder, reciprocating steam engine, fed by two oil-burning boilers produced 2,500 hp and a speed of 11 knots. Her 5 holds could carry over 9,000 tons of cargo, plus airplanes, tanks, and locomotives lashed to its deck. A Liberty could carry 2,840 jeeps, 440 tanks, or 230 million rounds of rifle ammunition.
http://www.usmm.net/l/southe.html#1222

US Army Chapter 2

CAMP GORDON, GEORGIA
Chapter 2

My Honey and I went through Georgia in June 1951 on our way to Florida on our honeymoon. We melted. It was so hot driving in our old blue 1946 Dodge four-door sedan with Fluid Drive. US Route 1 was torn up with hot dust and hot detours for the building of Interstate 95. We decided there and then we would never go to Florida again if we had to drive through Georgia. Never make a "never go to Georgia" statement, for you may do your basic training there.

I arrived at Camp Gordon on the first Friday in September-and we were taken to our Company and assigned bunks. Across the company street from our barracks was the most prize-winning mess hall at Camp Gordon. The Mess Sergeant was a winner in keeping the best-run, cleanest-looking inside, and out mess hall, and the best food in the Army. I was grateful for that food too. (It wasn't home cooking though.) He had all the walks lined with flowers and white painted stones, all the same size. He kept white paint on hand and someone was painting all the time. He had few demands for KP from us since he had a full staff of cooks and didn't want us messing around HIS kingdom or messing with HIS rocks and flowers. The Mess Sergeant even had little curtains on the windows. That’s class.

I got caught for KP duty one day, and it was hard work. I had to ride in the back of a pastry delivery truck handing out pies and cakes to the mess halls. It was cool in the truck and shaded from that hot, humid Georgia sun. It smelled good all day long. Not bad KP duty. I even considered it good duty for the next 23 and ½ months.

Our drill instructors were all sergeants and Korean veterans with an urgency about our paying attention to all instruction since it might save our lives. They were great instructors for the Signal Corps short course in self-defense, but it was not enough training for an offensive soldier fighting in Korea. Our Company DI was a winner and looked the part of a tough S.O.B., but in fact he was a very caring, hard working soldier? I got to know him quite well, along with our barracks instructor. We were told not to ask questions of our barracks instructor about Korea. He was working out mental problems as best as he could.

I volunteered to clean the company machine guns and rifles after they were fired on the range, in the supply room after dinner. That duty got me off everything else and I got to BS with the cadre. They tried to keep me for duty in the supply room when my training was finished, but my priority assignment (MOS) kept that from happening. Thank you, God. My three years in high school cadets and the Virginia State Guard paid off in basic training.

We had a 50-minute lesson with a 10-minute "Smoke If You Got’m" schedule. I loved anything dealing with small to big guns, hand grenades, and my real favorite, land mines. My close ties with the DI gave me the opportunity to help with the setting up of booby traps for our company to get safely through the next day. That was fun. I had a perfect grade in basic training and I worked hard to learn all I could about killing Koreans and living through the next 23 months. I was counting down the days from the first day, and they were moving much to slow.

I must admit I was shocked by some of the inductees’ inability to do the simplest personal care. Some had never seen a toothbrush or a razor, and some didn't know how to shine shoes or wash socks. A shower a day was unknown by those from the mountain hollers. Polished brass, clean floors, and wash windows were a mystery. What an education that was for me to see such a cross-section of men.

I have forgotten all names except for Schroder. He had the lower bunk next to mine and was a muleskinner from Wyoming. He was about 5 foot 7 inches and weighed 225 pounds without an ounce of fat. Built like a barrel. His neck was so large and arms so thick and short that the Army had to tailor all his clothing. His legs were short and thick, about the size of the smaller men’s waist. He was a walking muscle. He was a simple young man who never talked unless he was asked a question, and was so homesick for his Wyoming Mountains and mules that he cried. That made him a scapegoat for jokesters. We had to walk everywhere, since in basic training the Army didn’t provide us with transportation. My boots were not a good fit for my flat feet, so my feet would swell up to the point that I had to keep loosening the laces. Some mornings I could hardly get those boots on and had to walk in the back a little slower than the company. Schroder would keep me company along with some of the smaller men who didn't have the strength to carry their packs and rifles. Schroder would carry their packs and rifles. One day he had four extra rifles and packs for our 10-mile walk to the training ground. He arrived at the meeting site and wasn't even winded. He said it was easier than carrying a mule over a mountain. After we finished that day, Schroder just picked up those rifles and packs, and walked back to the barracks. No one ever said one thing against Schroder again, but all were in awe of him. He was my most unforgettable character.

The Army Mountain Mule Rescue Team stationed in Wyoming checked through the Pentagon to find Schroder. They knew he was drafted and had given him a letter for the induction center to send him directly back to Wyoming. Schroder owned a team of mules that the Army leased along with Schroder for their missions. They found him in Camp Gordon. Orders were cut from the Pentagon to ship him back by the Air Force. Seems he was the only one who could get the mules to move. Guess the mules missed him as much as he missed them? He had worked with the Army, Air Force, and the Forest Service on rescue and fire fighting. Schroder was one happy soldier to be going home to his mules. He left that night for the airport. I missed his mountain humor and good company.


I went on sick call for my flat feet the day we were scheduled for the obstacle course. My feet were bigger than my boots and no way to get them on. It took all day to get arch supports but no new better-fitting boots. I got to ride out to the training areas until I could get the boots back on my swollen feet. Just try to put arch supports into boots too small for flat feet. I was really sorry to miss the obstacle course. I had to buy boots to fit my feet.

I had a terrible toothache and chills the night we were to camp out in tents for three days and have night maneuvers in the Georgia pinewoods. At midnight I talked to the DI and the Company Captain. The Captain looked at me and felt my head and called an ambulance for a quick trip to the hospital.

The dentist was not happy to be gotten out of bed, but when he saw me he got out the x-ray equipment and could find nothing wrong with my teeth. I hurt so bad I just wanted him to pull them all. My head was exploding. He rushed me to the hospital and several doctors examined me, I was given a shot, and put in an unoccupied eight-bed ward. In the morning a nurse came to the door with fresh pajamas, robe, and slippers, and said for me to strip the sheets and blankets and put on fresh hospital garb, and put all laundry in the doorway. Breakfast was delivered to the room and I was told I had an appointment with an E.N.T. at 10:00 AM and I was not to leave the room. An orderly arrived and took me to the E.N.T. in a wheelchair and right into the examining room. The doctor was a German with a very thick accent, one I couldn't understand. He examined me and said I had a severe case of sinus. I never had sinus problems. How could that be possible? He gave me another shot and said to come back after lunch and he would "Thick it, yes?" I never trust a doctor that gives me a question for an answer.

In the afternoon my German doctor stuck a couple of steel rods up my nose to seal off the brain and ran solvents in one nostril and out the other. After a few minutes my teeth stopped aching and my fever went to normal. I felt good and ready to go. My German doctor was in no hurry for me to leave the hospital, and I had to go everywhere in an orderly-pushed wheel chair. All my meals were delivered and sheets and clothing picked up at the door. I was in QUARANTINE until I left the hospital four days later. Can you believe the hospital never got any updates on my condition in four days? I did get rides by wheelchair, and meals delivered to my private eight-bed ward all four days.

On my return to the Company, the troops had gone through the camp out and bayonet course. I had missed all the fun parts of basic training.

The weather was changing to freezing cold mornings. Without trees with leaves around, it was hard to tell seasons from the pine trees. One day we went on a march into the wood, and at the first break we found the water frozen in our hip canteens. By noon it was in the lower 80s. Georgia hadn't let me down. It stayed too hot or too cold or both in the same day and miserable the whole time, but it was better than the brutal winters in Korea. We didn't get weather forecasts or dress options in the real Army.

During the last few weeks of basic, some were beginning to get their next assignments. The goof-offs, and those who gave Schroder a hard time at the first part of basic training got early assignment to the pole lineman's school next door to our company. They were not happy about climbing telephone poles for the next 21 months. Pole linemen made the best targets of all for the Korean snipers. The DI said with a smile that the Captain knew how to make the best assignments. Others were going to radio operator school, and most were happy about that. My assignment to Ft. Monmouth Photographic School outside Redbank, NJ, came, and I was as happy as a person could be in an unwanted situation. Some of the smaller men were going to cook school. They would be cooks on those damn troop trains in Chapter 1, or-if lucky-would be sent to Korea within the year.