Alberty, Damon Conrad
On entering Army service: I wanted to go where it was safe, like the South Pacific.
On Bataan before capture: We were eating dog meat, monkeys, lizards and even our horses. We had no normal food, and our equipment was obsolete from WW I.
On the Bataan Death March: You could not believe how men could treat one another. It was a nightmare.
On prison camp conditions: Men were dying from yellow fever, jaundice, dysentery, beri beri and malnutrition. As many died from sickness as were killed by the Japanese.
On burial detail: In four months we buried 26,000 bodies in groups of 100, naked because we needed their clothes. The grave was only marked with a cross and the number of bodies buried.
On his mental attitude as a prisoner:
You grew hard, like a robot with no emotion or feelings.
His attitude after his WWII prison experience: I do not hate anyone. That is a cancer that will kill your soul and spirit.
In early 1941, Damon Conrad Alberty, age 16, wanted to join the army and see the big world that surrounded the town of Greensboro, North Carolina where he was born on August 28, 1924. Alberty told the Army recruiter in Greensboro he was 18. Since proof of age was not required in those days, the recruiter eagerly enlisted him in the Army perhaps thinking about the $1 he would receive for signing up. Alberty had some choices of duty station and with all that was happening in Europe, requested that he be assigned somewhere relatively safe, such as a South Pacific location. The choice of a South Pacific duty station was to impact the rest of his life and etch memories that few people are alive to recount.
After basic training at Fort Benning and maneuvers in North Carolina, he was assigned to Fort McDowell in the Philippines. On the way, in October of 1941, his ship passed two Japanese destroyers and two transports who signaled they were on maneuvers. Alberty arrived in the Philippines three weeks before the December 7th surprise attack on Pearl Harbor. His idyllic assignment in the South Pacific was interrupted by an attack on Clark Field on the morning of December 8th , 1941 which was still December 7th, Hawaii time. No one thought the Japanese could effectively attack two major targets on the same day. Most military airplanes were destroyed while lined up perfectly on the field with no thought to readiness for an attack. Shortly after the aerial attack the Japanese landed troops on the Philippines.
Alberty, with the 57th Infantry Scouts, was one of the defenders of the islands and as history tells us, the defense was doomed from the start due to lack of supplies and reinforcements. General Douglas MacArthur declared Manila an open city on December 25. The defenders, including Alberty were forced back to the Bataan peninsula for a last stand against the vastly superior Japanese invading force. The troops on Bataan were told to hold until reinforcements came but they never arrived. Alberty along with the other troops held out for four months. Ammunition, supplies, and food were in extremely short supply and most military supplies dated from World War I. As cavalry horses were killed or died, the men ate them. The troops ate dog meat, monkeys, lizards, or just about any food available. The Bataan defenders were dying from enemy action as well as yellow fever, jaundice, dengue fever and malnutrition. There was no grave registration. Men were just buried where they died without any marking.
When the surrender finally came Alberty had been wounded and weakened but was still mobile. The Japanese quickly killed everyone in the sick bays. Shortly after the surrender on April 9, 1942, the men were placed in groups of 100 and started on a march toward Camp O’Donnell. This was the start of the infamous Bataan Death March. Alberty was only 17 years old. The Japanese atrocities, brutality, and inhumane treatment of the men on the march is well documented. As Alberty describes it, “it was a nightmare”. He “became like a robot in an almost dreamlike state with no emotion or feelings”. The men were given a daily ration of only a little rice with a few sips of water. Over 10,000 of approximately 50,000 men died on the 60-mile march, which took about 10 days to complete. Alberty said the “carnage on the side of the road was unbelievable”.
Shortly after arriving at Camp O’Donnell, Alberty was sent to a nearby Cabanatuan prison where he was on burial detail for four months. He buried over 28,000 bodies; 100 per mass grave with no identification except a cross marker which indicated how many bodies were in the grave. The men were buried naked, as any clothes were precious to the other men.
The prisoners were put in groups of ten. If one escaped, the other nine where killed. The conditions at Cabanatuan were atrocious. One water spigot provided one half cup of water per day per man. Two straddle latrines were used by thousands of men. Men lived in bamboo huts with dirt floors. The food provided daily was one cup of rice and a bowl of thin fish soup. There was no medicine. Many men tried to commit suicide. Some were successful. Alberty was one who was determined to survive. If another man refused to eat the soup because of some foreign material in it, Alberty would eat it because it provided the critical nutrition needed for survival. He put a rusty nail in his drinking water to get iron in his system. Survival and keeping his sanity were Alberty’s basic instincts during those times. As Alberty stated, “if you have never smelled death all around you, you would not understand”.
Alberty was assigned with other men to flatten a hill to build an auxiliary airstrip at Nichols Fields. He said to himself “how can we possibly do this monumental job”? His answer in retrospect is “with a bayonet pointed at your chest you can do a lot of things you never thought you could do”. He would get up at five a.m. and work until about six p.m. with the bare daily subsistence that was given to provide energy. He lost weight down to 87 pounds. Men died and were buried in the runway and packed down with gravel with pavement placed over their dead bodies. After work, men went to sleep, exhausted. Guards came by every hour and monitored the men closely to ensure no one escaped.
In July of 1943, Alberty was put on an old coal carrier ship and sent to Japan. The ship was a living hell for the 28-day voyage to Japan. It was very overcrowded with several hundred prisoners sitting in 6 inches of coal dust and unable to move about. The very minimum of food and water was given to the men. Conditions were filthy and foul smelling, as one would expect under those circumstances. Alberty considered himself already dead! He had no rights, had lost everything he owned and was isolated from his country with little hope of rescue before death. When he arrived in Japan, he was so weak and malnourished that only his being young saved him.
While a prisoner in Japan, he worked to build a breakwater near a submarine port and he also unloaded various ships containing timber, raw rubber, coal and soybeans and any war material you could imagine. At one time, because he had accidentally left his hat in a field where he was working, he was put in a solitary confinement cage with minimum food and water, where he could neither sit nor stand. While in solitary confinement, he kept from going crazy by thinking of places he had been, events in his life and all sorts of things to keep his mind occupied.
In 1945, he was thrilled to see the first B 29s flying overhead and dropping bombs. That gave him some hope for liberation he had not had for over three years. When the atomic bomb was dropped on August 6, the commandant of his prison camp said if the allies invaded Japan, all prisoners would be put to death. Fortunately, the atomic bomb proved to be the catalyst for Japanese surrender and liberation for Alberty. Alberty is convinced that without the atomic bomb being dropped he would not be alive today to tell his story.
After liberation by Dutch paratroopers, Alberty went to San Francisco to Letterman General Hospital for six months of recuperation and treatment for his illnesses. He went on to spend a tour of duty at the American embassy in Rome as well as in Japan where he was involved in developing evidence against Japanese war criminals. Alberty received a full retirement from the Army in 1953 with 17 awards and decoration for his service. He returned to North Carolina, married, and has lived in Mayodan NC serving his fellow man through a ministry sponsored by the Moravian church helping the disadvantaged as well as serving on the town council for 17 years.
Alberty says he has been where the disadvantaged and homeless are as he has had no food, clothing, shelter, and little hope in his life experiences. When given the opportunity, he has spoken to young people and others about his experiences and the appreciation we should have of the opportunities we have in our United States of America that were won by men living and dying on the battlefield and yes, being prisoners of war.
Atkins, George Albert (Bert)
A lasting vision Bert Atkins has of his time in combat during World War II is that of USS Chicago, a navy heavy cruiser, being torpedoed during the Battle of Rennel Island and sinking on January 30, 1943, with a loss of 6 officers and 56 enlisted men. Atkins had often admired USS Chicago; it had been commissioned in 1931 but was still one of the most beautiful ships in the fleet. Five torpedoes from Japanese planes sank her.
George Albert Atkins was born in Vermont, but his family moved and he lived his early years in Sewanee, Tennessee. Atkins’ father was chaplain at the hospital associated with University of the South. After high school, Atkins attended University of the South, graduating in 1941 with a major in philosophy. He felt led to be an Episcopal priest and considered attending seminary. Atkins was aware of events in Europe and felt he would be in war eventually. A career as an Episcopal priest would give him a deferment from military service but he decided to be available for military service as one brother was already in the Navy and another in the Army.
As the end of summer 1941 approached, he went to be with his family in Richmond VA where they had moved in 1938. His father encouraged Atkins to go into the ministry but Atkins enlisted in the US Navy on September 25, 1941, in the V-7 program, which prepared men to be Naval officers. Atkins said, “I liked a good bed instead of mud holes and wanted to eat three square meals a day.” On December 7, 1941, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. Atkins heard news of the attack over the radio, and he was concerned about the possibility of further attacks and how the events would affect him.
Atkins was called to active service in January 1942 and assigned to the USS Prairie State. This was the old battleship USS Illinois tied up to a pier on the Hudson River in New York City. The Navy had taken USS Illinois’ superstructure off and built a barn like building on the main deck. The building was large enough to handle 500 trainees. The goal was to provide 4 years of Navy deck officer training in 3 months. At the conclusion of training, Atkins felt ready for his duty aboard ship. He graduated in April 1942 and was assigned to Navy Torpedo School, Newport RI. Atkins graduated from Torpedo school in July 1942. The final exam was to take all the individual parts of a torpedo and put them together to make a functioning torpedo. At that time, the Navy was having many problems with torpedoes because they would not detonate upon hitting a target. Fortunately, this problem was largely solved by the time Atkins arrived in the South Pacific several months later.
After torpedo school, Atkins was ordered to Bath ME to assist in building the USS Conway, DD 507. The ship had just the keel laid so he was not as busy as he would later be. Atkins had met his wife to be, Grace, at a church event a few years earlier, fell in love and they were engaged to be married. Atkins felt comfortable asking his Commanding Officer for 10 days leave and he and Grace were married July 28 1942 by Atkins’ father.
Atkins’ responsibilities were to organize the ship’s records with all official Navy publications as well as working with anti-submarine sonar, depth charge and gunnery operations. He also learned typical submarine operational tactics to aid in using depth charges effectively. Conway was launched on August 26 1942.
Final additions to Conway’s armament and other key equipment were put on at Boston Navy Yard. Conway was commissioned December 9, 1942, and ready for action. Atkins was assigned official duties as chaplain, torpedo, depth charge, smoke generator, assistant commissary, coding, censor, welfare and assistant gunnery officer. The first captain of USS Conway was a true leader. Atkins said, “The men loved his style of leadership and would follow him anywhere.”
A two-week shakedown cruise to check on operating efficiency of USS Conway was done off the coast of Portland ME. The weather during the cruise was freezing. Atkins duty station while on watch was the gun control tower, the coldest and most exposed place on the ship. One had to be very careful or heavy seas, wind, rain and ice could cause loss of life due to falling overboard. Conway had a complement of 16 officers and 300 enlisted men. Atkins’ lodging aboard ship was a small stateroom he shared with another officer consisting of bunk beds, small clothing lockers, small safes and a tiny desk.
After shakedown, Conway went to Norfolk VA to help form Task Force 68. This force included heavy cruisers, USS Chicago and USS Cleveland, three small aircraft carriers and five destroyers. By December 5, 1942, Task Force 68 was ready for war. Task Force 68 zigzagged across the Pacific on the lookout for submarines. It crossed the International Date Line and the equator without the usual celebration: no time for that. Eight hours a day were spent on watch with additional time spent on training. Conway had eight torpedo tubes all loaded with torpedoes and eight more torpedoes in reserve below deck. A smoke generator was aft and when in operation with its powerful blowers, could obscure a whole fleet of ships.
Atkins oversaw scores of depth charges aboard, which were engineered to roll off the deck when needed and explode at a predetermined depth. Smaller depth charges were designed to be launched in the air in a wide pattern. The powerful depth charges could split the seams on a submarine due to the transmission of great underwater force to the submarine hull.
Conway was headed for the Solomon Islands to be involved in a series of battles initially ranging from New Caledonia, New Hebrides and Guadalcanal. On January 29, 1943, Conway experienced its first air attack shooting down two enemy planes and barely escaping being hit by Japanese bombs. During the attack, Atkins dove for the pyrotechnic box, which was not a good choice, and bumped heads with the Chief Signalman who also dove for the box for protection. USS Chicago was hit by four torpedoes and the next day was sunk when hit by one more torpedo. Conway picked up members of the crew and took them to safety.
In all the activity in the island-hopping campaign, Conway’s job was to soften up the beaches for landing and lead and protect the troops as they went ashore. Conway went on to Vella Lavella looking for Japanese ships and on to Bougainville for another landing. Atkins was qualified as an Officer Of the Deck by this time. He was responsible for conning the vessel at high speed and missing coral reefs on the way in for landings. The navigators used old National Geographic maps, the only ones available and they were not too accurate. navigation equipment. Conway was getting old and worn out.
Refitting finished, Conway returned to the Pacific and went on to the Philippines where she encountered the first of many kamikaze suicide planes. New proximity fuses using radio transmissions for the 5-inch gun ammunition, allowed better results in defending against the kamikazes. Deadly results would be obtained with near misses on a target using the new fuses.
When Iwo Jima and Okinawa were attacked, Conway stayed in the Philippines and Atkins saw operational plans for Conway to take part in the invasion of Japan should that invasion be necessary. While the Okinawa battle was raging, Atkins got orders to return home. He took a tanker back to Panama and an old Liberty ship to New York. He called Grace to meet him in Philadelphia, and they had a great reunion. He had 30 days leave before reporting to Naval Training Station, Miami FL as an instructor. On the way, Victory over Japan (VJ Day) was declared. After a brief time in Miami, Atkins was released from active duty, exactly four years to the day from entering service, and he returned to civilian life.
After a few years of teaching, he bought a Firestone retail store. He sold that business after a few years and took a position at North Carolina Finishing Co. that was later bought out by Fieldcrest. This ultimately brought him to Eden. Atkins retired in 1985 from his position as Insurance and Risk Manager for Fieldcrest. Atkins and his wife Grace have been very active in the community and are now focusing on enjoying their grandchildren and just doing what they like to do. Atkins says, “There is nothing like combat, but seeing it makes one never to want to see it again. It is a horrible way to settle disputes, but we need to be prepared for it.”
Atkins and his wife Grace have a son, two daughters and four granddaughters.
Atkinson, Walter Green Jr.
During the June 6th D-Day landing at Utah Beach, Sergeant Walter Atkinson’s instructions were for his men to get off the beach and to the high ground, a series of sand dunes about 75 yards from the water’s edge. His first view of the beach as the heavy steel door slammed down in the water was of German machine guns firing at his landing craft. The water was neck deep and it was 75 yards to the beach. How is it that Atkinson found himself in this precarious situation, taking part in the greatest invasion by sea in history?
Atkinson had joined the US Army in September 1939 because he wanted to get a steady job and see the world. Little significant work was available in Leaksville NC for an 18 year old high school graduate. He was not well informed on the European situation nor did he care. An Army job and steady pay was of most importance. Atkinson’s father drove him to Danville and after a few days Atkinson was in the Army and bound for Panama, having been assigned to an Infantry Chemical Company specializing in the use of mortars in combat. Five weeks of intense basic training followed including the usual close order drill, calisthenics and classroom work. During the five weeks of basic training, he could not talk to anyone except his drill instructor. He was training 12 hours per day with homework at night. “Rigorous” is the word for it according to Atkinson.
After five weeks he was integrated into the mortar company and promoted to Private First Class. He was assigned as a “saddler” responsible for repairing harnesses and saddles for the officers. The Army used horses and mules largely to move men and material. There were only 160,000 men in the peacetime Army and money for mechanized equipment was scarce. That changed immediately upon the entry of the United States into WWII in December 1941.
Atkinson was a very good baseball player. Sports competition was intense in those peacetime Army days, so his talent helped him to be promoted to Specialist 4th class at the rate of $45 per month. A private only made $21 per month. He lived well and worked half a day as a saddler and the rest of the time played baseball for the base team. This was his job for two- and one-half years in Panama. He considered himself well off for a young single man his age.
The war was heating up in Europe and the Far East and there were frequent briefings to the men on the news. No radios were available to the men on the base. When the attack on Pearl Harbor was announced, Atkinson and his friends were on the porch of his barracks. The full implications of the attack did not register on the men until later in the day when the complete report was in the newspaper.
The immediate orders to Atkinson and his fellow soldiers were to pack up, go into the jungle and take up pre planned gun positions to guard the Panama Canal as it was a prime enemy target. They stayed in the jungle for ten days. It was boring, lonely work. The food available was pork and beans, canned tomatoes and whatever game could be shot and cooked. The routine was; after ten days, his unit came back to the base to help train draftees and in another ten days back to the gun positions guarding the Canal.
In late 1942, his unit was split up into teams and was assigned to New Orleans to train draftees as part of formal basic training which the Army instituted at that time. Meanwhile, Atkinson had been promoted to Tech Sergeant and was now making $95 per month. In early 1943 he was sent to Fort Rucker Alabama to help form and train mortar companies for combat assignment. It was there the 87th Chemical Mortar Battalion was formed, using the 4.2 inch diameter mortar.
Atkinson spent the balance of 1943 and into 1944 in training mortar men. In April 1944 the 87th Mortar Battalion was sent to Tivington, England in preparation for the invasion of France.
In England the buildup for invasion was overwhelming with soldiers and equipment everywhere. It was clear to Atkinson that the invasion had to happen soon. Every day his unit engaged in mock battles and other training to the point where he was prepared for just about anything that could happen.
On June 3rd the men went aboard their mother ship as though it were just another practice landing. The weather was terrible, and the men were seasick. On June 5th at 4:30 AM the men were told the invasion was scheduled for that day, but the weather was too severe and the landing had to be postponed to June 6th. On the evening of June 5th the men were very edgy. They talked with each other, mostly about home and family. Atkinson said “We were fearful because we knew the Germans would throw all they had at us. We were so physically sick we wanted to get off that boat and get the invasion over with.” In spite of poor conditions, morale was high.
Early on June 6th, Atkinson and his men got up for breakfast after a mostly sleepless night. They were given anything they wanted to eat but many of the men were so sick they could not eat. General Kermit Roosevelt, the son of President Teddy Roosevelt, was on board Atkinson’s vessel and was very visible, encouraging and being supportive to the men. Even though the weather was better that day, there were still 20 foot waves and loading the LCVPs (Landing Craft Vehicle Personnel) with men, mortars and ammunition was very treacherous. It was extremely difficult to go down the netting hanging over the ship’s side. Some men fell while boarding their LCVPs and broke their legs, arms or backs.
The noise from naval bombardment, wave action, fumes from the engines and thoughts of the dreaded invasion were overpowering. All of Atkinson’s thirteen men threw up their breakfast. The men hunkered down in the LCVP on each other’s backs behind the big steel door which would drop and allow them to go on their way to shore. They circled the mother ship several times waiting their turn to advance to shore. There were about 100 LCVPs going ashore on that 7th wave of attack. When their time came, the landing craft hit the beach, the big door crashed open downward, and all the men were exposed to machine gun fire as they left the landing craft. The water was neck deep, but no one drowned in Atkinson’s group. Two men were hit by machine gun fire, and they were left on the beach for the medics to care for as there was nothing Atkinson’s men could do. They died. Many men were dead floating in the water with their life vests on, but Atkinson and his men did not focus on them but rather on their mission to get on the higher ground. There were many large steel cross obstacles which made progress difficult for vehicles and tanks.
Atkinson’s orders were to get to the higher ground about 75 yards from the water’s edge. From there he and his men were to fight their way to the nearby town of Saint Mere Eglise, link up with Airborne troops dropped earlier that morning and continue on to capture the port city of Cherbourg.
As history tells us, the battles took much longer than the best planning had projected. Day by day Atkinson and his mortars advanced toward St Mere Eglise. It took four days instead of one day to reach there and much longer to capture the port city of Cherbourg. Atkinson acted as forward observer in many cases so was very close to the enemy as mortar shells fell on them. On the fourth day in action Atkinson was wounded in the knee by an artillery shell. He was taught to dress himself, if possible, which he did. He took morphine to ease the pain and stuck his rifle in the ground so a medic would see it. He was picked up by a medic and evacuated to a hospital ship for transfer back to England and treatment. After 30 days of healing and rehabilitation he was sent back to his unit.
He came back as platoon leader and led his men until he received a battlefield promotion to reserve 2nd Lieutenant at Liege, Belgium. He was then put in charge of two platoons: about 60 men. A few days after his promotion Atkinson was slightly wounded in the head by a sniper’s bullet that would have killed him except for the protection of his helmet. At Malmody, Belgium his unit was cut off and surrounded by German troops, but the Germans went around rather than capture the surrounded troops. German forces were taking no prisoners at this point in the war so Atkinson said his unit would have fought to the death if necessary. Atkinson was involved in many major battles as he and his unit fought across France and into Germany. While on a 21 day leave in Leaksville, he learned about the German surrender. His unit was then sent back to the US for more training in anticipation of the invasion of Japan. While in training, the war with Japan ended. He was sent to Fort Benning GA and was asked to decide whether he wanted to stay in the service or get out. He became a civilian for eight months and then decided to go back in the Army at his permanent rank of Sergeant. During the Korean War he asked to be “recalled” as a reserve officer which he had been during WWII after his battlefield promotion. This was technical and gave Atkinson his commission back which he retained for the rest of his 21-year military career. Atkinson says his experience in Korea was worse than his WWII experience but that will have to be told in another story.
Atkinson retired from the Army in 1961, came back to Leaksville and was in various businesses, the last being vice president of Stoneville Furniture Company until his full retirement in 1988.
He is married to his wife, Nadine and lives in Leakesville. He has two sons, one of whom is deceased and one daughter. He says his experience in WWII of hardship, discomfort and fear was like many other combat veterans and he was proud to serve. He met some of the bravest men he ever knew while in combat. If he had to do it all over again for his country, he would.
Bailey, Warren H.
During WWII, Reichsmarschall Hermann Goering, Commander of the German Luftwaffe (air force) had a fetish of “collecting” homes, rare art, tapestries, and beautiful women. One of his hideaway castles was in Bruck, Austria. Warren Bailey was one of the soldiers that used the castle for living quarters while stationed in Bruck as part of the Army of Occupation. Lieutenant Bailey used the room that Hermann Goering had slept in from time to time. He possesses to this day some dishes he “liberated” from Goering’s castle and brought home in 1946.
Warren Bailey was raised in the small town of Carpenter, NC and attended a three-room schoolhouse. He later attended Apex High School and after graduation in 1939 attended NC State, studying Agronomy. While at NC State he joined the ROTC. War news was well disseminated to the ROTC unit and Bailey was aware of the seriousness and the implications of the Pearl Harbor attack to him personally. During his junior year, with thirty days’ notice, his ROTC unit was activated April 6, 1943. He entered the Army at Fort Bragg where he received his obligatory crew cut, uniforms, and shots. From there, he went to Camp Wheeler, Georgia for four months of basic training. Due to lack of openings in Officer Candidate School, he was assigned back to NC State for additional training. In February 1944, he was assigned to Fort Benning, GA to OCS. Before leaving for OCS, Bailey married Ruth, the young woman he had fallen in love with several months earlier. Ruth Bailey accompanied him to Ft. Benning, living off base in an apartment but he could only see her on weekends.
After graduation and a brief period at Camp Butner, he was given a four-month assignment to Fort Benning for communication training. There he learned the three basic methods of battlefield communication: 1) wire telephone, 2) message Center – radio communication using secret cryptography, and 3) radio, using Morse code.
Upon rejoining his outfit at Butner, the battalion was assigned in December of 1944 to Camp Miles Standish near Boston. While at Camp Miles Standish, Bailey had his most unpleasant duty to date in the military – censoring mail. It was difficult to read letters home to sweethearts, wives, and children telling of the men’s fears in going into combat and then cutting out with a razor blade any reference to something that was prohibited.
In late December 1944, Bailey and his battalion left for Southampton, England on the military transport Marine Wolf. Bailey was so seasick that he slept on deck most of the trip. The Battle of the Bulge was going badly at that time so the ship was rerouted to Le Havre, France so the battalion could get into action earlier.
Bailey describes his job as communication officer as being responsible for setting up communication between Battalion headquarters to the three or four companies making up a battalion. Typically, Battalion HQ was about one mile behind the company. It was imperative that the wire for telephone communication be strung and intact every night so planning could be coordinated.
Usually, Bailey’s unit only received one- and one-half mile of wire per day. It was common to reuse wire that had been previously used by German communication units. In addition, Bailey sometimes used lines that were in place on civilian telephone poles. In combat, troops were advancing so fast that wire recently laid had to be retrieved using a Jeep with a reel device on the front, which was wound by hand. It was back breaking work to wind up telephone wire only to lay it again quickly. Night was the most dangerous time to be laying wire. It was then that maps could be most easily misinterpreted. To check a map at night, Bailey would have to get under a raincoat and use a flashlight, determining where he was going. Any light shown was an invitation for rifle fire from the Germans. Many times captured German maps were the only maps available. When the unit to which the wire was being laid was approached, it was necessary to be recognized and give a sign such as “HAM” with a countersign response from the other soldier such as “EGGS”. Failure to give a sign or counter sign properly could result in death to the one who “forgot”. New signs and counter signs were given each day. German soldiers were sometimes dressed as American soldiers, so knowledge of signs and counter signs was extremely important to avoid being shot by “friendly” forces.
Near the city of Le Treporte France, Bailey, and his unit came upon a 12-year-old French girl who was friendly and gave the men some food as well as a picture of herself with her name on back of it to Bailey, who sent it on to his wife. In 1993 on a trip to France, Bailey was determined to find the girl, then about 62 years old. With a stroke of luck, he did so and had a nice reunion with her after 49 years.
About this time, Major James Morris was appointed the new battalion commander. Because Morris was an outstanding leader, Bailey credits Morris with saving his life and many others. The first real combat assignment after a minor skirmish at Triere was the assault to cross the Mozelle River. There was not much opposition at the time Bailey’s unit crossed the river. However, the process of laying communication wire did expose him and his men to enemy fire.
The crossing of the Rhine eleven days later was a different story. Opposition was fierce with the Germans firing machine guns as well as using their 88 mm guns with high fragmentation anti-aircraft shells as an artillery barrage. The projectiles made a frightening whirring sound, and many soldiers were killed by shrapnel. Bailey was in a foxhole before making the assault but saw Major Morris up and about, ignoring the rifle and machine gun fire, encouraging his men. Bailey got out and did the same with his platoon of 30 men. Battalion Commander Morris was a great example to many young men under terrifying circumstances and Bailey did his best to emulate him. As the assault was being made over the Rhine, Bailey’s unit strung communication wire with all the shelling and confusion going on.
After the Rhine was bridged and the tanks moved across, Bailey’s battalion raced deeper into Germany. The town of Eisenach was bypassed on the way. Later, a US officer raised a white flag to approach the surrounded German position and asked them to surrender to avoid an attack that would destroy them and the town. The German general in charge told our officer that he was under orders not to surrender. The town was destroyed that evening with an 1800 artillery shell barrage. When Bailey and other soldiers entered Eisenach the next day, there was no opposition.
When Bailey’s unit approached the village of Ohrdruf, not too far away from Eisenach, a scout unit saw several large low buildings and many dead bodies and skeleton-like figures moving about. It was the Ohrdruf work camp which was the first nazi “concentration” camp liberated during the war and this is substantiated by the Holocaust Museum in Washington DC. It did not get much attention at the time, as President Roosevelt died the day it was liberated.
The war was just about over and Bailey’s unit camped near Leipzig as it was agreed by the allied powers that the Russians were to enter Berlin first. Bailey’s unit waited and waited. About that time, Bailey was granted some R&R (rest and recreation) time in Paris. While he was there, the Germans surrendered. It was the first time in five years the lights were on at night in Paris. Bailey said he had to get out of downtown Paris as the noise and general bedlam was overwhelming. The next day a pilot flew a small observation plane under the Arc de Triumph in celebration of the allied victory.
Bailey went back to his unit, and it was ironic that when he had left his unit, US troops were shooting at the Germans and them at us but now German soldiers were just abject bedraggled old men and very young boys who were prisoners and marching to their prison camps for further processing.
Bailey was transferred to Camp Lucky Strike to help reassign soldiers to Japan, return to the US or just get out of the service if they had enough points. He was there until the atom bomb was dropped on Hiroshima. He was in London on a brief leave when victory was declared over Japan. The streets were full of people celebrating after almost six long years of war.
Bailey went back to his unit as part of the Army of Occupation managing a relocation camp for displaced persons in Bruck, Germany. He lived in former Reichsmarschall Hermann Goering’s “castle” while in Bruck. His job was to help direct displaced people to their destination or reunite them with family. In early 1946 while in Austria, Bailey was a marshal supervising a group of military policemen at a war crimes trial of Hungarian SS officers who killed five American flyers. Recently, through help given by Holocaust Museum personnel in Washington DC he found the June 9, 1946, N.Y. Times article telling the final results of the trial he observed for a time in 1946.
In June 1946, Bailey was transferred to Camp Kilmer NJ and took a train to Fort Bragg for release from active duty. His wife Ruth picked him up and he met son William whom he had never seen. He returned to NC State and went on in his career to become manager of several Agricultural Research Stations in NC. His final position was in Rockingham County as Agricultural Extension Agent.
Bailey is married to wife Ruth and has two sons. One son is William, a ten-year Air Force veteran with the rank of Captain, now retired and living in Chapel Hill. The second son is Daniel; a Reidsville attorney and Army veteran associated for three years with the Judge Advocate General’s office in Washington DC while on active duty and a retired Lieutenant Colonel in the National Guard after 20 years’ service.
Bailey said he was happy and proud to help in the effort to defeat fascism and because of the war, he met his wife, which changed his life in a wonderful way.
Barbee, Ann Collins
The air raid sirens began wailing at 11 pm. The German Luftwaffe bombers arrived on their nightly schedule while young Ann Mooney was running home from a dance. She saw neighbors running to air raid shelters in heavy coats with nightclothes underneath. She knew her mother would be upset because she was not home yet but that did not bother Ann much. Attending a dance was more important than a few German bombers and she did not like air raid shelters. War was not very real to her, yet!
Ann Barbee was born in Dundee north of Edinburgh, Scotland. Her family is part of the Fraser clan. Before being drafted by the Royal Air Force, Ann had never been more than fifty miles from her home. Loving parents sheltered her life. Her mother even spared her some of the normal chores such as doing dishes after the family meal. Her two older brothers did most of the chores.
She attended St. Mary’s catholic school in Dundee, graduating from high school at age sixteen. There were few jobs available for young girls but her skill at sewing led her to a five-year apprenticeship in tailoring. It was enjoyable work to her and she was paid $1.50 per week while being trained. Her pay increased as she learned and her expenses where minimal since she was living at home.
Barbee remembers well the Sunday, September 3, 1939, speech when she heard Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain speak on the radio to announce the sad news that England was at war with Germany. She remembers her mother crying in fear that her two sons would have to go off to war. Nightly blackouts started immediately in Dundee and all the British Isles to avoid giving the Germans easy bombing targets.
Barbee’s two brothers did go to war but the family never thought that daughter Ann would have to go too. Barbee continued her work at the tailor shop and in 1940, the company she worked for began making covers for gas masks from a heavy fabric. Citizens on the British Isles had to always carry a gas mask with them.
Bombings were intense in England after the war started, especially in London. Bombing started in Scotland in 1941 as Barbee recalls. She remembers that bombing was relatively light but typically started at 11 pm. It was particularly worrisome during summer because Scotland is so far north, there was enough light at midnight to allow German bombers to see their targets.
Life did go on for a young girl full of energy and Barbee loved to dance. She would attend dances beginning at 8 pm in a local hall but made sure she was on her way home when they ended at 11 pm or earlier. She would hear the air raid sirens going off and see neighbors running to the air raid shelters. There were aircraft flying overhead and in one case, a German plane machine-gunned a neighbor’s house for no apparent reason. Not everyone went to an air raid shelter. Most shelters were above ground and primarily made of concrete blocks. People sat on hard benches until all clear sounded. Some shelters collapsed from bombs landing nearby and temporarily trapped the people inside. It could be dangerous inside, or outside, an air raid shelter.
There was little damage around Dundee because no vital industry was there. Barbee remembers seeing the “Pathe-Gazette” newsreels at the movies and the terrible devastation in Germany due to Allied bombing campaigns. She thought to herself “this could never happen in Dundee”.
Rationing started about this time. Everyone received a ration book; even babies. Meat was in short supply and butcher shops were only open one or two days a week. Sugar was used in ammunition so that was very scarce. Worst of all, tea was in short supply. Used tea bags were the norm in most households. One egg per person was allowed every six weeks. Gasoline supply was not a problem as it was in the United States because few people had automobiles in Dundee. Most people rode bicycles, walked, or took the bus.
It soon became obvious that all the young men in town were gone to the service. Most of them went early to the African campaign against General Erwin Rommel and his tanks. There were primarily women and older folks around town. One day, Barbee got the shock of her life when she received a draft notice. Her employer told the draft board that he needed her in defense work and Barbee was deferred three times. The fourth time, the request was denied because military personnel needs were so critical that Barbee had to go. In September 1942, Barbee was given no choice and drafted into the Royal Air Force. She could have been drafted into the Army, Navy, or the “Land Army” which was essentially work on a farm. In any case, Barbee was devastated. She thought Britain had lost the war if she were needed in the military!
Her basic training at a station near Andover, Scotland was a rude awakening to wartime training. After her physical, she went down a line of corpsmen who gave her countless shots in both arms. She was given uniforms in the traditional RAF blue color and a hard straw pillow along with her blankets and sheets. She ran – she did pushups – and marched – and marched. Barbee evolved into excellent physical condition but could not believe she was in the service.
Her aptitude test indicated she would have talent as an armorer or a flight mechanic. She received some advice indicating she should opt for the armorer job as a flight mechanic would have to be available all hours of the day or night repairing aircraft and she would not have a life. Barbee got the armorer job and was transferred to Tealing Air Base only eight miles from her home in Dundee. She was able to commute to work by bicycle.
Tealing was a training base for Spitfire fighter pilots. Barbee’s job was to clean the machine guns after the pilots returned from their training flights. This involved taking guns from the planes, taking them apart and using emery cloth to clean off any rust; then using an anti-freeze solution to clean every bit of residue from the guns so they sparkled when she finished. Barbee did not do dishes at home but here she was with her hands in anti-freeze and using emery cloth on machine guns. In her words, “It was a mess.” In the morning, she remounted the guns in the Spitfires and fired a burst to be sure they were firing properly. Fortunately, her physical strength gained in basic training allowed her to handle heavy guns without too much strain. After a year, Barbee was transferred to Leuchers Air Base in Scotland.
Leuchers was Barbee’s taste of the real war. This was also near Dundee, but she had to live on the base because of the demands of her work. Instead of training flights, Leuchers was a bomber base supporting the Wellington and Lancaster four engine bombers. She was loading machine guns for gunners who fired from waist positions and turrets on the bombers. Each day she received orders designed for the mission of the day. Depending on the mission, its target, and likely opposition she loaded appropriate belts of ammunition. If there was a long mission, there would be less ammunition to make room for more fuel. Typically, Barbee would load the ammunition belt with standard shells, and then every fifth would be a tracer so the gunner could see the projectile path. If appropriate, incendiary shells would be loaded in the belt.
There were Australian, Polish, French, New Zealanders, and Czech crews at Leuchers so it was a broadening experience to get to know people of so many different nationalities. Her work was just as dirty and demanding, only there was a new element; it was personal. She knew the guns being cleaned and armed were going to be used against the enemy in the air war. As the bombers took off on a mission, Barbee knew who was on the planes and knew they were flying into harm’s way. When the planes were due back, people on the base would gather watching to count the planes as they returned. Frequently, planes did not come back, and this was very distressful for Barbee.
After several months as an armorer at Leuchers, an opening came up in the tailor shop on base for which she qualified. She took a crash course in military tailoring and began work. At that time, Boyce Barbee, her future husband, was flying out of Leuchers on top-secret missions.
One day, Boyce Barbee came into the shop for some tailoring work. They began seeing each other regularly and “love bloomed”. Boyce Barbee was going to be sent back to the states and time was short to get married. Normally, the “Banns of marriage” had to be published by law. This was a three-week period where anyone could object to a marriage for cause. Due to the circumstances, a license was issued quickly. Boyce and Ann were married but Boyce was going back to the states! As the war wound down Ann Barbee was anxious to get out and begin her new life as Boyce Barbee’s wife.
Barbee was released from the Royal Air force in October 1945. When she boarded the vessel for America, it was to be a nine-day trip with 900 other British war brides and about 300 children. Ann Barbee was the first down the gangplank in New York. Boyce Barbee was there and jumped over the restraining gate to take his bride in his arms for a welcoming embrace. The rest is history.
In 1994, the Barbee’s made a visit to Leuchers Air Base. When the commanding officer heard their background of service on the base, they were treated like royalty and given a grand tour of the base seeing some of the old buildings that held many memories for them.
The Barbee’s have lived and been retired in Rockingham County for many years but also enjoy time at Oak Island, NC. Barbee is retired from the teaching profession and has raised purebred dogs as a hobby. On her time in the service, Barbee remarks, “My time in the service changed my whole life because I married an American and became a citizen of the United States. I have tried diligently to be a model citizen and good example, particularly to young people that I taught”.
The marriage of Boyce and Ann Barbee produced a son, a daughter, and one grandchild. Ann and Boyce continue to lead active lives.
Barbee, Boyce B.
After Boyce Barbee completed his 25th combat mission in a B-24 Liberator bomber, his military career would take a most unusual turn. He became involved in a top secret “airline” that delivered men and information to and from the Soviet Union via Sweden. His aircraft also brought aircrews back to fight again after forced landing in Sweden due to lack of fuel or aircraft malfunction. If the unmarked and defenseless B-24 on which he was a crewmember had been shot down, the outside world would not be given any facts and if captured, he would have been shot as a spy because he carried no identification and was dressed in civilian clothes.
Barbee was born in Concord NC and graduated from Stoney Point high school, near Taylorsville. His father was a disabled WW I veteran who had been wounded and gassed. Through his father’s condition, Barbee became familiar with the aftermath of combat at an early age. After high school graduation, Barbee worked in a textile mill until drafted October 24, 1942. He was sent to Statesville for testing but did not leave Fort Bragg for indoctrination until November 11.
He did well on a test for “code work” and was assigned to the Army Air Force base in Atlantic City for basic training. Barbee went on to Scott Field IL for five months, studying Morse code and communication skills in preparation for his work as radioman on a bomber.
After radio school, he went to Harlingen, TX to air gunnery school. The training included shooting at target sleeves towed by a tow plane. He found out quickly that you had better not put a bullet hole in the towplane, or you would wash out immediately. Barbee passed with flying colors. Upon completion of the course in early 1943, he was promoted to sergeant and sent to Tucson AZ for assignment to a bomber crew as a radio operator. With Lt. Carnine as pilot, the crew flew day and night in preparation for combat – then on to Lincoln NB for assignment overseas.
At Lincoln NB, his crew was assigned as a replacement crew for those planes and crews lost in combat. Soon his crew was flown to North Africa, but still without their own plane. After a short time, his crew returned to England and joined the 392nd Bomb Group, flying some missions in other crew’s planes.
Lt. Carnine learned of a B-24 that had run out of fuel and landed in a nearby field. It was to be dismantled for parts because it was thought there was no room to take off from the field. Carnine said, “Let me see it!” Regulations required at least a pilot and radioman to be aboard any airborne B-24. Carnine and Barbee went to the field, had some minimum amount of fuel added to the tanks, all extraneous material removed, climbed in, ran up the engines to full power until the braked wheels slid on the ground. Carnine released brakes and took off, pulling up sharply to clear an apartment building at the end of the field, almost stalling, and then leveling off. Carnine had his B-24 – with just a little fuselage damage from the forced landing but with a shaken pilot and radioman on board.
The combat routine began – thirteen missions in thirty-seven days. In one instance, Captain Jimmy Stewart, the Hollywood actor, was the lead pilot of a bombing mission. On most missions, the bomb groups had to fight their way into, and out from, the target. It was too early in the war for long-range fighter escort to be available. It was bombers against fighters! Flak and German fighters were in abundance. The Germans also used a technique of dropping steel cables from fighter planes to drag through the bomber formations and this was effective in entangling and bringing down many of our aircraft. During Barbee’s tour of 25 combat missions in the worst air combat period of the war, over 700 crewmembers and about 70 aircraft were lost from his base alone.
Barbee’s station was his radioman desk in the bomber. On one high altitude mission, it was 50 degrees below zero in the plane. Barbee’s right electrically heated glove and his facemask shorted out as he was in process of decoding a message from Bomber Command. He lost consciousness and fell from his seat. The flight engineer noticed it and put another facemask on Barbee so he could breathe. It saved Barbee’s life and the lives of many of the crews as the message Barbee decoded instructed the Bomb Group to turn back immediately because jet stream wind changes would prevent them from making it back to base if they continued the mission.
Upon return from another mission, Barbee’s plane was very low on fuel. Just as Lt. Carnine noticed a fighter strip under construction as a possible landing spot, all engines quit! He landed with little room to spare. As the crew got out of their plane, a P-47 fighter, also low on fuel, landed. The fighter pilot said to Lt. Carnine, “I did not think I could land here but if a B-24 can land, I knew I could”.
Flight plans for bombing missions were designed to avoid flak where possible. However, as the Germans moved their antiaircraft guns on railcars from place to place, flak was difficult to avoid. On the “bomb run”, the bombers were sitting ducks for flak, and many planes were lost during this phase of a bombing mission.
One of Barbee’s duties was to see that all bombs had dropped, and the bomb bay was clear after the bomb run before closing the bomb bay doors. In one case, Barbee did not notice that one 500-pound bomb did not drop but was hanging precariously in the bomb bay. Barbee signaled the bombardier to close the bomb bay doors. After closing the doors, the bomb dropped. It went through the bomb bay door and fortunately did not hit any aircraft below Barbee’s plane. If the bomb had stayed in the bomb bay, it would certainly have exploded upon landing, with disastrous consequences.
A most unusual event happened on Barbee’s 25th and final bombing mission. Upon nearing the coast of France, just before crossing the English Channel, the tail gunner said, “There is a strange B-24 pulling up behind us. Their life vests are not like ours and it just does not look right.” Carnine told the tail, top turret, and ball turret gunner “Train your guns on the pilot of that plane and if there is one false move, blow that plane out of the sky”. As Barbee’s plane reached the English Channel, the B-24 turned back. It was Germans operating a captured B-24 with the intent of getting into our formation and shooting down our planes from the rear. This tactic of the Germans worked many times.
In March 1944, Barbee could not go home yet although he had completed his 25 missions. He was asked to report to his Commanding Officer who told him to pack up and leave the base in two hours for a top-secret assignment. He was given authority to obtain two sets of civilian clothes at Harrods Department Store in London. He had earlier received a letter from his mother asking what he had done as the FBI had been asking questions about him in his hometown. Barbee was then sent to Leuchers RAF base, Scotland where incidentally, he met his wife to be – Ann. His new commanding officer was Colonel Bernt Balchen, a world-famous arctic explorer who had accompanied Admiral Byrd on Arctic Expeditions and was the first pilot to land a plane in the Arctic.
A secret “airline”, under the command of Balchen and the auspices of the Office of Strategic Services, was being formed to carry men and information to and from Sweden in collaboration with the Russians. The airline, flying war weary, unmarked, unarmed, B-24s, only flew in bad weather so the Germans would not see them. The plane was configured to hold as many as 30 passengers lined up on the sidewalls of the aircraft. Barbee was issued a Russian visa, just in case he had need of it. Officially, the airline did not exist. Most of the people the airline carried were unknown to Barbee but there were some high-profile persons occasionally, including Count Bernadotte from Sweden. While in Stockholm, it was common to be seated near German or Japanese patrons in a restaurant or hotel – probably on secret missions themselves. Stockholm was an international hotbed of spies. Barbee also experienced his hotel room having been searched for by people unknown while out for dinner.
After the war ended in Europe, the airline was disbanded. Barbee was then involved in ferrying Navy crews to Germany to operate captured German naval vessels. The Potsdam conference with President Truman, Prime Minister Churchill, and Russian leader, Joseph Stalin, was about to take place and Barbee was notified to be available to accompany President Truman’s entourage if a flight to Moscow was necessary. Barbee was involved because he was the only radioman stationed in Europe with a Top-Secret clearance AND Russian visa, plus he was good at his job. The trip to Moscow did not take place.
Barbee married Ann and was transferred to the US for discharge, but Ann had to do a lot of paperwork to get here. Finally, she arrived in the US in March 1946 – one of thousands of “war brides”. When she arrived in New York by ship Boyce Barbee was there to meet her and jumped over the restraining fence to reach her as soon as he saw her come down the gangplank. This was a great reunion and the end to his WW II odyssey.
Barbee commented that his WW II experience showed him one person could make a difference even though part of a huge endeavor. He has particularly high respect for the British Royal Air Force pilots who were outnumbered and out manned yet won a great victory in the Battle of Britain in 1940. The memory of many friends lost in combat is a burden he still carries.
Boyce and Ann Barbee have one son, one daughter, and one grandson. He and Ann enjoy their family, time at the beach and still lead active lives.
Barham, Joseph L.
There was an important man aboard the aircraft parked on an outlying portion of the Cairo, Egypt air base where Joe Barham was stationed. His identity was a secret but later revealed as Franklin D. Roosevelt, the President of the United States. President Roosevelt was on his way to attend the Teheran conference, an historic meeting with Winston Churchill and Joseph Stalin to chart the course of the war. Joe Barham got close enough to take a picture of the aircraft that brought Roosevelt to the meeting of the “Big Three” allied powers.
Barham was born in Spray NC and grew up during the Depression. He attended Leaksville High School but had to drop out at age 15 to go to work. He worked at Marshall Field & Co. in the Blanket Finishing Mill until he was drafted into military service in August 1941. Barham was not enthusiastic about the Army and because of his interest in airplanes, he and four friends volunteered for the Army Air Corps. After joining, he was sent to Camp Lee VA on a very crowded troop train – then on to Jefferson Barracks MO three days later. This is where he received rigorous basic training with close order drill, kitchen police duty (KP), physical training, marching, training films, frequent inspections and harassment from his drill sergeant. One evening while in basic training, Barham was ordered to guard a pile of coal. A skunk happened to come along, and it wet him thoroughly. The odor was terrible and could not be removed so his clothes were burned and a new set issued promptly.
After eight weeks of basic training, Barham was assigned to Cochran Field near Macon GA for eight weeks of training as an aircraft mechanic. Barham wanted to learn to fly and requested flight training. As pilots were in short supply, he was given the opportunity. The instructor took him up in a BT-13 trainer and after a few aerobatics, was successful in making Barham sick to his stomach. This experience ended Barham’s interest in becoming a pilot. His aircraft mechanic ability was very good and after graduation from mechanical school, Barham was promoted to corporal and made crew chief on a BT-13 trainer at Cochran Field.
On December 7, 1941, while Barham was at Cochran Field, the Japanese made the sneak attack on Pearl Harbor Naval Base in Hawaii. Everyone on Cochran Field wanted to contact his or her families. Because there were few pay phones on the base, lines of men and women stretched for ¼ mile. It took hours for Barham to reach a pay phone to call his family. The news of the attack disturbed him as it would anyone, but Barham knew he had a job to do and he would do it.
After 14 months at Cochran Field, he was transferred to Warner Robbins Air base as a fuel truck driver. There was an auxiliary field at Waycross GA and Barham had to drive from Warner Robbins to Waycross regularly. On one evening trip, he was crossing a bridge and a city bus started across the bridge after Barham was on the bridge. There was no room for both vehicles and the sparks flew as the two scrapped each other and the tanker was in danger of leaking and exploding. An accompanying safety truck foamed down the bus and tanker and, along with the noise and commotion, scared the wits out of the bus passengers. That was the only problem Barham ever had while driving a tanker truck.
In September of 1943, Barham was transferred to Link Trainer School. A Link Trainer was a device used to train pilots safely under simulated instrument flying conditions. Oddly enough, it was invented by a pipe organ maker who used his knowledge of pumps and bellows to create this aviation-training device. After Barham was trained, he was put in charge of one of the Link trainers. He enjoyed putting pilots through the paces under simulated adverse flying conditions. However, this did not satisfy Barham for long and he wanted to get back doing flight line mechanical work – keeping the planes flying – as he originally had been trained to do. It was in 1943 that he married his girlfriend, Pauline.
In late 1943, he saw a bulletin asking volunteers to go to Seymour Johnson Air Base in North Carolina for work as flight line mechanics. This was close to home and his new wife, so Barham volunteered. He was transferred and upon arrival at Seymour Johnson was promptly put in the kitchen as a cook. Barham had trouble understanding that assignment. After complaining, he was assigned to the flight line, where he wanted to be.
One day while another mechanic was warming up the engine on a P-40 Warhawk, the propeller came off and careened across the field. It tore through a hanger wall, missing about 20 men on the way and continued tearing through the other side of the hanger before coming to rest. The noise was so great that others heard the propeller hit the hanger and thought the air base was under attack. On another occasion, Barham was warming up a P-47 Thunderbolt fighter plane. It was hard to start and caught on fire. Barham knew he had little chance of getting out of the plane alive. He kept grinding the starter hoping to get the engine started and blow the fire out. Fortunately, the engine started, and the fire was blown out by the rush of wind from the turning propeller -a narrow escape indeed!
In the fall of 1944, Barham learned there was a squadron being formed flying C-46 transport planes over the “hump” (Himalayan Mountains) in Burma, carrying supplies to China. The squadron would be based in Egypt and fly to Karachi, India, on to Burma and to China. It was a long supply line, but it worked. Within several days, he was in New York ready to sail to Egypt in a 36-ship convoy. Guns, boats, airplanes and supplies were lashed to the decks of the transport. Upon arrival at Port Said, Egypt, the material and planes were transferred to John Payne Field near Cairo. John Payne was the name of a pilot who led the first attack of a bomber group from Africa against the Italian fleet. He was later killed in action. Barham remembers the orders of his commanding officer when his unit arrived. He said,” Don’t eat the food, don’t drink the water and don’t touch the women”. If any one of our troops made a pass at a Muslim woman, he would be marked for death. The food and water were full of organisms causing amoebic dysentery. That could kill you too!
At John Payne Field, Barham had a permanent Quonset hut to live in, but the temperature rarely got below 125 degrees during the day and frequently dropped to freezing at night. Life in Egypt was very trying with the weather and poor working conditions. There were movies in the evening and occasionally a USO celebrity show would come through. Barham remembers Jack Benny, Clark Gable and Tennessee Ernie Ford as some of the entertainers.
Sandstorms were frequent and blinding. Sometimes you could only see a few feet ahead and sand was everywhere – in your clothes, hair and living space. Fortunately, the cooks kept it out of the food. During a sandstorm, uncomfortable gas masks were worn to be able to breathe. Barham’s time was spent repairing battle-damaged aircraft. Barham was also the squadron barber after finding he had a knack for that. The British had an air base near John Payne Field and Barham was impressed with the fact that British troops always stopped work for a spot of tea at certain times in the day no matter what was happening.
When Roosevelt visited Cairo, he made King Farouk of Egypt a gift of a C-47 transport for his personal use. Barham was assigned as a mechanic on that plane, and he came in frequent incidental contact with King Farouk, who knew Barham by name. King Farouk wanted his mechanics to ride in the plane with him when he went on a trip. These trips were mostly to Alexandria or Luxor, Egypt to visit government officials. While on King Farouk’s aircrew, Barham had the opportunity to visit many of the sights in Egypt and surrounding countries, including Palestine (this was before Israel was created in 1948). Barham was probably one of the first US citizens to go rabbit hunting in Palestine. He saw the Sphinx, King Tut’s artifacts and climbed the Egyptian pyramids. He visited the Valley of the Kings and saw tomb artifacts of the ancient Kings of Egypt. He enjoyed a wonderful learning experience as one of King Farouk’s aircrew men.
On May 8, 1945, the war in Europe was over and of course, this was cause for joyful celebration. There was only warm beer on the base so CO2 from the fire extinguishers was used to cool 00000 enough “points”, in a few months Barham was on his way home. His ship took him to Norfolk, and he caught a train to Fort Bragg for discharge September 13, 1945. His wife Pauline and a 12-month-old daughter he had not seen yet were eagerly awaiting him at home.
Barham returned to work at Marshall Field and Company, but poor economic conditions caused a layoff, and he found work at A&P Tea Co in the produce department. He worked for 22 years for A&P and after his retirement in 1975, worked at Fieldcrest Mills in the Security Department for 25 years, retiring in 2000.
He is convinced that America is the greatest country on earth and is pleased he had an opportunity to help protect it. World War II took a sheltered young person who had never been anywhere to speak of and sent him halfway around the world, molding him into a man in the process.
Barham has two sons and one daughter. He and his wife also enjoy their six grandchildren and two great grandchildren.
Baumgardner, Sterling
As a young man, Sterling Baumgardner sang in a southern gospel quartet with his brothers. During his senior year at Greenville TX high school, he and his brothers were enticed to move to Siloam Springs, Arkansas to perform on a radio program – all living expenses paid. He did not make much money but finished high school there and enjoyed the experience. Upon graduating in 1939, he moved to Lawrenceburg IN to attend music school. However, his older brother left the quartet, causing Baumgardner to lose interest in pursuing a music career. He returned to Greenville to work in his father’s grocery store.
It was required that men Baumgardner’s age register for the draft. After registering, he quickly was drafted into military service on February 16, 1941. He was assigned to a National Guard unit from Greenville and sent to Camp Bowie, Brownwood TX for heavy weapons training. Baumgardner was destined to be a machine gunner at that point.
In the summer of 1941, his unit went on maneuvers in Louisiana. Baumgardner weighed 125 pounds. At the end of the two-month maneuvers, he weighed 150 pounds. Most men lost weight. His training at Camp Bowie continued and while home on leave December 7, 1941, after a singing performance, his brother shared the news he heard that Pearl Harbor had been attacked. Baumgardner was recalled to Camp Bowie and felt he would never see his home again. On Tuesday, December 9, he received orders to leave by troop train to the west coast. He arrived at Fort Lewis, Washington and his unit was immediately assigned to help guard the West Coast from an expected attack by Japan. He drove a truck carrying machine guns, up and down the coast as far as San Francisco. He stayed overnight in Civilian Conservation Corps buildings and at County fairgrounds. Baumgardner was on this type of guard duty until January 1942 when he applied to the Air Corps for flight training. He had aspired to be a pilot for as long as he could remember. His application was accepted, and he passed the physical but did not pass the written test. In June 1942, he took the test again and passed the written test but did not pass the physical. He failed because he told the interviewer of an accident he had had years before which caused him to be unconscious for five days: automatic disqualification.
In January 1943, Baumgardner was transferred to Hialeah, Florida for guard duty on the East Coast like his West Coast duty. He again applied for flight training and this time he passed both the physical and written test. The interviewers did not ask about accidents. In August 1943, he was assigned to Peabody College in Nashville TN for one semester of training and passed the aptitude tests for pilot, navigator and bombardier. He learned that there was to be a cut back in pilot training and those on pilot track would go into the infantry. Baumgardner elected to go into navigation and felt confident he would continue in the Air Corps. He continued on to Pre-Flight training in Montgomery AL but only completed half the course. The need for navigators was so great that all students with a 90 or above average were immediately sent to advanced navigation school in Coral Gables FL. He graduated in Florida and received his Navigator wings July 4, 1944.
The crew was formed and assigned to Rapid City SD. It was thrilling to be assigned to further training on a B-17 Flying Fortress. Baumgardner was very comfortable in his navigator work and was highly regarded in his unit.
In a B-17, the navigator sits at a desk directly below the pilot, next to the bombardier. It is vital that the navigator has the precise time shown on his watch to do navigation work in coordination with navigators on other aircraft. Being just a few seconds off could mean a mid-air collision. Baumgardner carried a 45-caliber pistol, wore an electrically heated flying suit, boots, gloves as well as oxygen mask and steel helmet in addition to regular clothing. While at high altitude in the unheated plane, he was tethered to an electrical cord and oxygen tube for survival at 45 degrees below zero centigrade. He was also the “recorder” for significant events aboard the aircraft. For example, the navigator records when engines were started, when roll out for takeoff begins, unusual observations while in flight and when bombs are dropped. He is also responsible for firing a nose gun under combat conditions.
His crew went to Lincoln NB to pick up a new B-17 and immediately headed for the east coast and then on to Scotland. The crew left the B-17 in Scotland and traveled to Podington, England as their permanent base assignment. There were so many temporary airbases in England it was easy to mistakenly land at the wrong base. His crew was assigned another plane and Baumgardner flew his first mission on November 9, 1944, to Metz, Germany. The typical mission was assigned the night before on the bulletin board. Wakeup call was at two or three a.m. depending on the length of the mission with breakfast following. The briefing was in a large room with a map behind a curtain. The curtain would be drawn back and the crews would be told the target for that day, the route, expected opposition, weather, bomb load and reason for the mission. Pilots, navigators and enlisted crew members would then break out to individual sessions relating to their specialties.
After a quick trip in a jeep to the aircraft and a review of checklists, the plane was ready for takeoff. Usually, 36 aircraft were in a group, taking off at 30-second intervals. They joined up with aircraft from other bases to form the “bomber train” to the target. This was a highly orchestrated production, and a timing mistake could spell disaster in the air.
Baumgardner’s 92nd Bomb Group was the first to drop the “Disney Bomb” (as in Walt Disney), a bomb we would call “high tech” today. His aircraft carried two of the 4,500-pound bombs. They were dropped from high altitude and designed to penetrate 20 to 30 feet of concrete, primarily on submarine pens. Upon falling to 5,000 feet, an attached rocket motor fired and increased the velocity to 2,400 feet per second. When they hit, concrete would erupt in all directions.
After dropping bombs, the Bomb Group would fly back in formation, land, and then report for debriefing. In poor visibility, the aircraft would fly back to base very low, under the weather. Baumgardner recollects one time when his pilot said half-jokingly over the intercom, “Convoy, 12 o’clock high”. The plane was so low it had to climb to miss the masts of the ships in the convoy.
After landing, a shot of whisky was provided in the debriefing room for crewmembers to calm their nerves. Those who did not drink would usually give their ration of liquor to those who did. Baumgardner’s job required him to keep good records of everything that merited reporting to the debriefing personnel. For example, any planes shot down, enemy troop activity and high concentrations of anti-aircraft fire.
Flying through heavy flak on the bomb run is a memory, which even today, gives Baumgardner flashbacks to the danger he faced in those days. He remembers the “bam” sound that flak made when it penetrated the fuselage. He also remembers the day a group of bombers, out of position overhead, almost dropped their full load of bombs on his bomb group. Quick action on his pilot’s part to get out of the way saved many lives that day. On another occasion, a shell hit a steel structural member in the nose of his B-17 and caused the flak to be directed away from the plane. A hit two or three feet away on the fuselage would have destroyed Baumgardner’s B-17. He saw many of his friends go down. He watched for their parachutes and prayed for their safety as they fell.
Baumgardner’s last flight was March 24, 1945; his 31st mission – he was going home! He wrote three letters that day, one to his mother and dad and letters to two friends. Unfortunately, one of his dear friends had already died during the invasion of Iwo Jima. Baumgardner expected to be assigned to a B-29 bomber in the Far East to fly bombing missions against the Japanese. He was assigned as train commander on a troop train to California. He learned that victory was declared in Europe while on the train. There was a major celebration that night. When Baumgardner arrived in Santa Ana, California, he started to have nightmares about his bombing missions. They subsided but came back many, many years later on a vacation trip to Germany.
Baumgardner was sent back to Love field in Dallas for further training to be a navigator on long distance transport flights. On the way, he learned about the victory over Japan. Baumgardner wanted to stay in the service and become a pilot but some administrative problems prevented that. If he stayed in as an officer he would have had to sign up for a longer term of service, Baumgardner elected to revert to enlisted status and stay in only 20 years rather than committing to a longer term of service. He was given the rank of Senior Master Sergeant with a rating of “enlisted navigator.” When in an aircraft, he did the same job he had done in combat in Europe. His ground job eventually involved machine accounting systems in the early years of those systems.
Baumgardner says he made some poor investment decisions long ago and decided to learn more about investing and he became quite good at it. When he retired in 1961, he went into the investment business full time, eventually moving to Reidsville, Ann’s hometown. He presently has investment clients around the world, served from his Reidsville home.
Baumgardner has four daughters, seven grandchildren and two great grandchildren that he and Ann enjoy. His children live across the country and traveling to see them is one of Baumgardner’s pleasures.
Baumgardner’s World War II experience made him a more disciplined person who appreciates life and the great sacrifices made by young men and women who go to war.
Blanchard, Manfred T.
The 1079-mile Stilwell Road in Burma was not a road you would want to travel for a Sunday afternoon drive in 1944. It was named after tough General “Vinegar Joe” Stilwell, who by force of his office and personality built a military road which most persons thought, was impossible. It was a brutally rough military road hacked out of the jungle, traversing through the Himalayan Mountains, known as the “roof of the world”. This was a jungle inhabited by nature’s most vicious beasts and insects, racked by monsoon rains, and inhabited by fierce native tribesmen. Manfred Blanchard traveled this road 15 times from Ledo, India to Kunming, China to help supply the Chinese army with material to fight the war against Japan. Why was a US Army licensed dentist assigned work so far removed from his profession?
Blanchard was born in Elizabeth City, NC. His father was a medical doctor and very early in life, Blanchard became known as “Doc”. This continues as his nickname today. Hunting was his passion and the Dismal Swamp, with ample supply of deer was his hunting ground. Many times, he saw bears in the swamp but never had a good shot at one. Ironically, even before he graduated from high school Blanchard had a desire to have a professional career as a US Army dentist.
After graduation from Wake Forest University, he continued his education at Emory University in Dentistry. Early in his senior year at Emory, he was drafted into the Army as a Private but was able to continue his dental training until graduation in June 1944. On weekends during his senior year, he took basic military and physical training. After graduation, he went to Officer Candidate School at Carlyle, PA to learn military history and strategy as well as other courses to qualify for his promotion to First Lieutenant. Professional medical personnel skipped the rank of Second Lieutenant.
Surprisingly, after OCS, Blanchard was assigned for several months to Ft. Leonard Wood, MO for training as a Combat Engineer. The Army needed combat engineers more than they needed dentists.
Long Beach, California was Blanchard’s next stop, to board an old cargo ship with a Hindu crew to go to Calcutta, India. When the ship crossed the International Date Line, Blanchard and others, were the subject of hazing that was typical for those crossing the line for the first time. As a minor part of the hazing, Blanchard received a crew cut. He liked it and continues with a crew cut to this day. His ship encountered severe storms that sank some ships but Blanchard recalls his ship’s captain was very astute and made the voyage without damage.
In late 1944, Blanchard finally arrived at Calcutta and continued on to his duty station in Ledo, India, which was the beginning point of the Stillwell/Burma Road. The famous Merrill’s Marauders combat unit had cleared the road of Japanese troops and the Stillwell road was then a primary route to get supplies to Chinese forces.
Blanchard was assigned to be the dentist for the troops stationed at Ledo. Conditions were poor for good dental work at Ledo and Blanchard could only handle emergency cases. He used old, slow, painful drill equipment powered by a soldier on a treadle similar to that of an old sewing machine, to turn the drill. There was little Novocain for pain. He worked in a Bamboo hut with a concrete floor, and patients had to spit in an old bucket during treatment. As a professional dentist, this was not satisfactory, so Blanchard requested an old headlight from the motor pool and used the base for a spittoon with a watering can rigged above to spray water in the spittoon. He had a pipe put in to drain water and debris from the makeshift spittoon to the outside. Blanchard’s commanding officer was impressed with the “new equipment” and Blanchard was commended for his ingenuity.
After most of the emergency dental problems were handled, Blanchard, being very adventuresome, asked to be more involved in the transporting of supplies to Chinese forces. The request was granted, and he was part of the next convoy to Kunming, China. Blanchard’s responsibility was to drive a Jeep as leader of about 40 trucks. It took a week to travel 1079 miles to Kunming. On the way, the road went through tropical jungle as well as reaching an altitude of about 9,200 feet. There were fueling stations, which were overnight stopping points along the way. Bulldozers were positioned to repair roads and literally push trucks through otherwise impassable, washed out, portions of the road. After the monsoons and roads, the worst enemies of the men in the jungle were mosquitoes, and annoying bugs. Atabrine tablets (anti-malarial) were part of the daily diet. Upon return to Ledo, his commanding officer was pleased with the results of the convoy Blanchard led and assigned him as a convoy leader until further notice.
The trucks normally used were GMC or Studebaker. GMCs had doors but Studebakers did not. Several drivers suffered court martial (formal legal punishment) rather than drive a GMC. The Studebaker trucks had nothing to hinder getting out of the truck if it went over the side of the treacherous road. On one occasion, the driver of a truck went over the side of the road and was never found. These were all new trucks full of supplies, and they remained with the Chinese upon reaching Kunming.
The trip back to Ledo, India over and through the Himalayas was another dangerous venture. The convoy members, about 100 men, flew back on twin-engine C-47 transports nicknamed “Gooney Bird” over what was called “The Hump”. Each aircraft held 21 passengers. It was a three-to-four-hour flight to cover the 500 miles back to Ledo and was extremely dangerous. The weather was unpredictable. Visibility could change from good to poor quickly. Due to the height of the mountains, pilots had to pick their way between some mountain peaks rather than over them. Cold weather caused ice buildup on wings and propellers. It was common to hear ice thrown off the propellers hitting the side of the aircraft. Frequently the aircraft might drop hundreds of feet in a downdraft giving the feeling of the aircraft breaking apart. Many times, in bad weather, Blanchard could see anxiety on the pilot’s face, which reinforced Blanchard’s anxiety.
Blanchard logged 15,000 road miles to Kunming and 7,500 air miles on return flights to Ledo. Ledo was a primitive Hindu village, and the Army post was on the edge of the village. The local people did not welcome service members in the village, so time was spent on base usually. There was much rain accompanying the monsoon winds, along with generally gloomy weather. Spare time was spent resting up for the next grueling convoy.
The supply route from the US to Kunming via Calcutta and Ledo was more that 14,000 miles. The longest supply line in the world. More than 500 planes were lost in the years the US supplied war material to Chinese forces by air. Many more lives were lost building and defending the Stilwell Road.
On one occasion, the adventuresome Blanchard took a jeep for a recreational ride in the jungle. A storm came up and he got lost temporarily. He approached a native village and was surprised to hear bullets striking trees near him. He quickly turned around and was thankful to find his way back to Ledo before long.
In mid-1945, after his 15th convoy, Blanchard received orders to Shanghai as a dentist for the General Hospital. Blanchard’s duties were limited, and he was able to spend some time sightseeing and enjoying cosmopolitan Shanghai. While he was in Shanghai, it was as if there was no war on in the world. The war ended officially on September 2, 1945. Although Blanchard could have been released from active duty, he remained in Shanghai until October 1946 fulfilling his dental responsibilities while continuing to enjoy Shanghai.
In October 1946, Blanchard received his orders back to the US for release from active duty. On the flight from California to Ft. Bragg, he had the most frightening experience of his life. The twin-engine aircraft took off from the air base and while climbing, lost power in one engine. There was no place to land and a crash on the rocky coast seemed certain. A panicked pilot asked any passenger with flying experience to come to the cockpit. There were none. The pilot told all passengers to assume the crash position and to start praying. As the aircraft almost crashed, the engine coughed and started again. With additional power, a crash was avoided. The plane landed at the nearest airport, and all passengers boarded another plane to continue the flight.
Blanchard was released in November 1946 and returned to Elizabeth City for a time, practicing dentistry with a friend. In 1948, he learned of the need for dentists in Leaksville. Former mayor John Smith Sr. and local attorney Floyd Osborne encouraged Blanchard to come to Leakesville to help fill the need. In 1948, Blanchard and his late wife, Lola (deceased), came to Leakesville to establish his dental practice.
Blanchard says his World War II experience brought him closer to God as evidenced by his long-time active membership in First Baptist Church in Eden, NC
Brown, Robert
IN HIS OWN WORDS
On bombing missions: I do not know how I survived. The 100th bomb group was a very specific target of the Germans. The first four or five missions were exciting but then the fear set in. It was very unnerving knowing someone was shooting to kill me.
On the B-17 “All American Girl”: She was weary but just felt good in the air. Solid and safe like a good automobile. She had a lot of holes patched but brought me back safely every time.
On being a tail gunner: I had a great view, but it was very tight and I was very exposed back there.
On the Bloody Hundredth: It was well named. We spilled too much blood due to loss of crews in combat.
On P-51 fighters: When the P-51s got drop tanks for extra fuel and could accompany us, we felt a lot safer.
On D-Day: We knew it would happen but did not know when. Before we left, our colonel said, “Good luck and God bless you”. The view I had that day would live in my memory forever. A thousand ships spread as far as I could see.
On his service: If I had to do it all over again, I would.
The first time Bob Brown saw his father cry was when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. Brown’s father had fought in WWI and had been gassed as well as seriously wounded. His two sons were of draft age and he knew they would be involved in war as he had been some 23 years earlier.
Bob Brown, however, was excited and ready to go to war. Brown turned 19 shortly after Pearl Harbor occurred and had a good job at Fieldcrest Mills but wanted to get into the defense industry. After registering for the draft in Leaksville, he went to Baltimore to work for the Glenn L. Martin company building airplanes. Feeling he was about to be drafted, Brown came back to Leaksville in early 1943 and enlisted in the Army.
While in basic training at Camp Croft, South Carolina, Brown decided he would rather be in the Air Corps and a corporal friend in the personnel office changed the records so Brown would be assigned to the Air Corps. It was not questioned and Brown quickly found himself in the Air Corps just as he desired.
After further training in gunnery and aircraft maintenance in various locations, Salt Lake City was the next stop where the ten member crews for B-17s were made up for assignment overseas. The crews were sent to Camp Kilmer, New Jersey to be assigned to a troop ship for the voyage to England. By this time, Brown had been promoted to sergeant and earned $46 per month; a far cry from the $21 per month a private earned.
In England, Brown’s crew was part of a replacement pool, which meant they would be assigned to a squadron that had lost a crew for some reason and needed replacements for combat duty. His crew was eventually assigned to the Bomb Group known as the Bloody Hundredth (100th Bomb Group). It was called the Bloody Hundredth because the German fighter pilots were determined to decimate the Bomb Group due to a German pilot having been shot down by a 100th Bomb Group B-17 bomber after he had lowered his wheels indicating surrender. As it happened, during a period of 2 years the Bloody Hundredth lost 177 aircraft to enemy fire and another 53 due to mechanical problems on combat missions.
Brown’s first combat mission was on June 6, 1944, which was D-Day. He learned about his mission at 10 p.m. on June 5. He did not sleep well and was awakened at 2:30 a.m. for the mission with a briefing at 4 a.m. and takeoff shortly thereafter. After takeoff, part of his duty, from his tail gunner position, was to use a flashing light to signal other bombers to form up behind his plane. There were hundreds of aircraft in the air and it was very confusing, especially in dawn’s early light.
His war weary B-17 bomber, “All American Girl” was assigned with other bombers to a tactical bombing mission in support of the troops that landed on the beaches. Brown’s view was magnificent from his tail gunner position as he flew over the English Channel. Brown says “it will live in my memory forever. There were a thousand vessels from battleships on down.”
While on bombing missions at high altitudes, Brown wore a heavy knit cap, long underwear, electrically heated boots, and suit with a fatigue uniform over that and lastly a sheepskin jacket. Electrically heated gloves were also issued and if these were lost or fell off for some reason, fingers could be lost due to frostbite. An oxygen mask was used at altitudes over 12,000 feet, tethered to an oxygen valve at the tail gunner position. Brown also carried a Colt 45 and a combat knife. With all this equipment Brown had to crawl to the tail gunner position and sit on a seat much like a bicycle seat. Once in combat Brown also had a flak jacket to wear and a steel helmet. There was nothing to lean back on so all missions were very fatiguing in very tight quarters. Protecting him were a 2-inch-thick Plexiglas windshield to the rear of the bomber and 1 inch Plexiglas on both sides of the tail gunner position, near his head. Facing out the back of the airplane were two 50 caliber machine guns, with ammunition cases holding 1000 rounds of ammunition next to Brown. During the maximum effort missions, sometimes ammunition was in short supply and Brown only had about 200 rounds of ammunition for the guns.
Brown flew 16 missions as a tail gunner over Europe and five more as a toggler (similar to bombardier). His job was to drop bombs on signals from the lead aircraft. Fighters were not seen very often due to shortages of planes, pilots, and fuel in Germany. However, flak was very heavy and took a terrible toll on the bombers. Brown says, “It was very unnerving to know someone was shooting to kill me. We did not shoot at many fighters but did dodge a lot of flak.”
On one mission, an enemy plane approached from the side and was firing directly at the tail gun position. Brown leaned back and a bullet hit where his head would have been. He missed death by an inch or less. One of his superiors said the only reason Brown was alive had to be because he had abandoned his tail gunner position under combat and should be courts martialed. In other words, because he was not dead, he should be punished. Witnesses supported the fact that he had not abandoned his position, so the courts martial never happened.
On one occasion, while on the way back to England after a bombing mission, a B-24 heavy bomber named Cabin in the Sky slid in formation behind Brown’s plane. When flak came up, the plane flew away but came back when the flak stopped. The next day, crews were informed that Cabin in the Sky was flown by a German crew and should be shot down. Typically, such an aircraft would shoot down planes from the rear knowing it would not be chased due to low fuel on the returning bombers.
All American Girl flew 99 missions, one of the longest service records during the war. She was finally shot down on her 99th mission with a new crew aboard and with loss of all lives.
Due to illness in the family, Brown was allowed to come back to the United States in December of 1944 to further duty in aircraft maintenance in Illinois and Virginia. Brown had enough points to get out of the Air Corps in November 1945 and returned to Leaksville. He began work as an aircraft mechanic on the following Monday after returning home. Brown’s career was primarily in machine shop management until retirement in 1986. He remained with the Air Force reserve for 18 1/2 years retiring as Master Sergeant. He is married to Edna, and both are deceased now.
In 1982, Brown was reading an aircraft magazine, and he noticed an ad for a print showing planes from the 100th bomb group on a mission, painted by well-known aircraft artist Keith Ferris. Brown ordered the print and when he received it, to his surprise, Brown saw the print featured All American Girl, the plane that he had flown in for 20 missions. That print was proudly displayed in Brown’s home and is shown in the picture included with this article.
Concluding his thoughts about World War II, Brown says if he had to do it over again he would. He was proud to be part of the effort to save our world from tyranny.
Bumgarner, Dr. John Reed
It was ironic that on December 7, 1941, the day Dr. John Bumgarner completed his one-year active-duty obligation in the Army Medical Corps reserve, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, Hawaii and caused the United States to enter WW II. These events brought changes in his life that no one should have to experience.
Bumgarner’s father was a Methodist minister so Bumgarner “grew up” in many different North Carolina communities, the last, being Miller’s Creek, NC. After graduation from Wilkes High School in 1928, he attended Lincoln Memorial University in Harrogate TN. He desired to attend medical school, so he transferred to NC State to get required pre-med courses. Bumgarner had little money, so he worked for a few years as a chemist at a hosiery mill to earn tuition to allow him to attend the Medical College of Virginia. During his senior year at medical school a Colonel in the Army Medical Corps convinced Bumgarner along with others to join the Medical Corps reserve, promising that it was extremely unlikely they would ever be called to active duty.
During medical residency at a hospital in Chattanooga TN, Bumgarner noticed many reserve officers were being called to active duty, so he decided to leave his residency and return to North Wilkesboro to practice with a doctor friend until being called for active duty. All his official mail was being sent to Miller’s Creek NC, and while home for a visit, he noticed a letter from the Army ordering him to active duty on December 7, 1940, for one year. It was December 9 when he saw the letter, so he was already late. He traveled to Ft. Knox KY, reported to an irate officer and after Bumgarner explained why he was four days late no punishment was given.
Bumgarner was transferred to Ft. Custer MI after a short time and was greeted by six feet of snow. The Colonel assembled the physicians one day and said he needed an unmarried reserve officer with the rank of first lieutenant to go to the Philippines. Bumgarner was the only one who qualified on all three counts. Realizing he was being described, Bumgarner “volunteered.”
He went to San Francisco by train and boarded a transport for the long journey to the Philippines. When he arrived, an officer from Sternberg General Hospital told him not to get too comfortable in his quarters in the old Luneta hotel in Manila. He said prophetically “The Japanese will be here in about six months”. Bumgarner spent ten idyllic, routine months in Manila treating mostly malaria, dengue fever, and dysentery cases. It helped prepare him for what he would face in less than a year. On December 7, 1941, he had orders to go back to Norfolk VA to be released from active duty. The bombing of Pearl Harbor, Hawaii changed that instantly.
The Japanese invaded the Philippines on December 8, (December 7, Honolulu time) and marched toward Manila. In late December, Bumgarner and the medical staff were ordered to General Hospital #1 on Bataan as Manila was under attack and they all would be killed if they stayed there. On December 25, 1941, the Christmas meal the medical group had was the last full meal they would enjoy for years.
General Hospital # 1 was set up in an old barracks building. Bumgarner stayed a short time and then went to General Hospital # 2 which had been set up in the jungle with no cover except for a few tents for the operating room and some equipment. Bumgarner’s ward in General Hospital # 2 was designed for 200 people with a maximum of about 1,000 for the hospital. Everything was under reasonable control for a while but with pit privies, flies and mosquitoes, many staff people developed dysentery and malaria. The soldiers fighting the Japanese were in terrible condition with little food or medicine. Some of the medical staff were as sick as those being treated. Sanitation was poor and growing worse by the day as the patient load expanded with sick and wounded.
At night, one could see the guns flashing in the distance and all knew in only a short time the area would be overrun by the Japanese. On April 9, Japanese troops entered the hospital and told all persons they would be killed if any of their orders were resisted. At that time, there were 7,000 patients in General Hospital # 2, the largest number in Army history in a single hospital setting. It was impossible to treat patients adequately. Only a kind word and encouragement could be given to the very sick patients. The Japanese took everything of value including all food and medicine. The Japanese brought in floor scrapings from a rice processing plant for hospital food. It was full of filth and dirt, but it was the only food available. It was boiled and eaten.
The Japanese then sent Bumgarner and the medical staff to Cabanatuan, Philippines to set up a hospital for all prisoners of war. He would stay there for what seemed an eternity. The patients from Camp O’Donnell, the destination of the Bataan Death March, were like thin, pale ghosts. About 13,000 patients came through the hospital and of that number almost 4,000 had died by December 1, 1942. It was not unusual for seventy patients to die in a single night. As those almost too weak to walk carried the bodies for burial, the living watched in respect and called it the “parade of the dead”. The staff almost became immune to the daily carnage, as was so common. Burying the dead was backbreaking work for those strong and well enough to dig the necessary large gravesites. The Japanese did not like to go near the hospital for fear of catching a disease, but they insisted on an accurate daily accounting of all prisoners. In January 1944, Bumgarner received the first mail he had received for years. One of the letters contained a bill for tailoring a suit of clothes while in Manila. The others were letters from home, which lifted his spirits temporarily.
In February, he was ordered to go to Japan to establish hospitals for prisoners of war. The medical personnel were put in the hold of an old rusty transport with rats as their shipmates for a one-and-a-half-month voyage to Japan. Conditions in the hold were horrible. Rice and tea were lowered into the hold once a day for sustenance. Amazingly, no one died on the voyage to Japan although an American submarine attacked one ship in the convoy.
Bumgarner arrived on the island of Honshu and was taken by train and barge to Camp Kamiso where he was the only physician, but without medicine, for some 150 British, Dutch and Irish prisoners who worked in a cement factory. Anyone who had lived in captivity as long as these men, were survivors in every sense of the word. While they were tough, resilient and determined to live, poor treatment, beatings, and being sick were part of everyday life in Camp Kamiso.
In early 1945, it was becoming clear that the fortunes of the Japanese war effort were ebbing, and this was shown by the treatment the prisoners were getting from guards. Infractions that would normally be cause for a beating or being shot became a lecture or some milder punishment. In April, Bumgarner observed the first of the B-29 raids and heard bombing. This was an uplifting event and gave some renewed hope to the prisoners. In June 1945, a supply of medicine came through to Camp Kamiso and finally Bumgarner could give some positive medical treatment to the prisoners.
In July of 1945, Bumgarner and others were suddenly transferred to Camp Bibai, Japan, which was a camp for 450 prisoners who worked in the coalmines. When leaving for Camp Bibai the Japanese colonel in charge saluted Bumgarner, which was a great shock. Normally Bumgarner would be prodded with a bayonet in the back. The diet was awful at Camp Bibai and medicine was in very short supply. Bumgarner knew with the ten-hour workdays, sickness, exhaustion, poor sanitation, and lack of food, men would not last long in that environment.
Bumgarner was in sickbay when the atomic bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. After Japan surrendered, two Japanese officers came in, saluted him, and informed him of the surrender. Then they lectured him on the brutality and inhumane actions of the United States in dropping the bombs. The next day every Japanese soldier was gone. Before they left, however, one soldier who had been particularly brutal came around asking the prisoners to hit him as some sort of pay back for his inhumane treatment of them. The prisoners just laughed at him.
Bumgarner was transferred by airplane and ship to Letterman General Hospital in San Francisco for treatment and observation. He was diagnosed with pulmonary tuberculosis as well as many other diseases. After lengthy series of hospitalizations, he was finally released in July 1949, returning to the medical profession to specialize in cardiology. He came to Greensboro in 1955 and practiced for 30 years at Moses Cone Hospital, becoming Chief of Cardiology.
Dr. Bumgarner has written four books, including one on the health of the Presidents of the United States from a physician’s point of view as well as his book regarding his WW II experiences called “Parade of the Dead”. He and his wife Evelyn are now deceased. He lived to be the last surviving physician of all physicians on Bataan.
Burton, Jesse
June 6, 1944. It was D-Day! The Allies were attacking “Fortress Europe” with 3,000 landing craft, 3,000 naval ships for bombardment and miscellaneous support, and thousands of aircraft to suppress German resistance to the landings. Early in the morning on D-Day, transports pulled gliders carrying paratroopers who had specific missions in advance of the regular assault troops. Jesse Burton, a waist gunner on a B-24 Liberator bomber, was with the 44th bomb group which was assigned the mission of dropping bombs on a key target 15 minutes before US troops were to land on Utah and Omaha beaches. Burton was part of the largest invasion in history.
War was the farthest thing from Burton’s mind while attending one room Mount Hermon School in Rockingham County. Burton’s mother was his teacher. He continued to Wentworth Consolidated School, graduating from High School in 1932. Burton’s first love was baseball; playing first base on his high school team.
He decided to attend King’s Business College in Greensboro while also working at a tobacco crop in Rockingham County. In 1936, he went to work for National Biscuit Company in Greensboro but after a short time came home to Rockingham County to work for Carolina Woolen Mills, which later became Fieldcrest Mills. This was his first real job since “following mules” on the farm.
Burton heard about the sneak attack on Pearl Harbor December 7, 1941, while taking his newly drafted brother to Danville on the way to Fort Eustis VA. He knew it meant trouble for our country and possibly for him. Burton kept up with war news and continued working at Fieldcrest until October 14, 1942, when he was drafted.
He was sent to Fort Bragg and who should greet him on arrival but Floyd Osborne, mayor of Leaksville, who had been drafted earlier. Burton went through the usual routine of getting his uniform and taking shots but due to his records being lost, he had to take all shots again. After a week he was sent to Fresno CA to a former Japanese Internment Camp for further limited training and tests. His test results showed he was suited for duty as a gunner/armorer on aircraft. His physical examination revealed that he was 6 feet 1 inch tall and the limit for aircraft gunners was 6 feet. Since there was a great need for gunners, the examining doctor took 1 inch off Burton’s recorded height so he “qualified” as a gunner.
Gunnery school at Tyndall Field, FL was Burton’s next stop. Using marked projectiles in 50 caliber machine guns, he fired at target sleeves trailing behind tow planes and was graded on how accurate he was. There was no free time during the several weeks of training except for one evening in town for a movie. Even so, Burton enjoyed the training.
After a brief time in Tucson AZ, he went on to El Paso TX as part of the process of assembling and training crews for the four engine B-24 Liberator bombers. There were navigation problems, mock bombing runs, and formation flying to get the crews ready for combat.
The 40 crew members assembled in Arizona went to Camp Kilmer NJ for embarkation on Queen Mary to Liverpool, England. The food was terrible, and the voyage was rough. Burton survived for eight days on hard biscuits and fried liver.
The night Burton arrived; the Germans bombed the cathedral at Coventry. British Prime Minister Churchill knew of the attack beforehand because the German code had been broken. Churchill could not take defensive measures because the secret of the code breaking would have been compromised.
The 44th Bomb Group’s permanent station became Shipdham, England.
After heavy action in North Africa in 1943, the Group did not fly any combat missions until early 1944. Upon arrival, Burton’s crew was assigned a war weary B-24, known as “Lemon Drop” that had survived the infamous and costly raid on the Rumanian Ploesti oil fields. On some missions in early 1944, “Lemon Drop” had to abort due to mechanical problems.
Burton did not think about dying on a mission but rather about doing the job he was assigned. He felt he could do nothing about the situation he was in so had to perform well if he wanted to survive. The whole crew had similar feelings and even in those bleak circumstances considered themselves brothers in arms. Oddly, the stress of battle and combat did not affect any of the men unduly until they approached the 35-mission level, at which point they would be relieved of air combat duty. That is when the men felt they might just make it to the “magic number” of missions. Before that, they felt the odds of making 35 successful missions were remote.
The B-24 was the most sought-after bomber of World War II as it could fly higher, faster, and farther, with a heavier bomb load, than the B-17 Flying Fortress. It just was not as pretty. Its ungainly appearance earned its nickname “Pregnant Cow”. B-24 crews called the B-17 a “Hand Grenade Carrier”. To this day, the crews of the Flying Fortresses and Liberators carry on their friendly, competitive banter.
Burton did not know from day to day when he would be called to take part in a bombing mission. Such information was kept from the men until the last minute. If the crews did not know mission plans, it was unlikely the enemy would find out by listening to “loose lips”. On mission days, the crews usually awakened about 5 am. There was limited time to do what they had to do, including eating a light breakfast and attending briefings about the route to target, weather, and the number of enemy fighters likely to be encountered on the way as well as the level of flak expected. Most crew members ate very light breakfasts to reduce the possibility of upset stomachs during the long flights. The next step was getting dressed in electrically heated flight suits, heavy socks, gloves, and flying boots. Also included in their pack was information on escape routes if shot down, steel helmet, earphones, 45 caliber pistol, parachute and K rations. The crew then boarded a truck to carry them out to the plane. After an inspection of the plane, they were ready for takeoff. Burton’s 50 caliber machine guns on the bomber were already armed and ready. A well-loved chaplain always came by for prayer with the men
Typically, 24 aircraft in his squadron took off, one after the other. The planes formed up with others at about 15,000 feet and later split off, heading for their respective targets. Sometimes the German 88s did not fire on the planes as they approached their targets. Anti-aircraft artillery was expected and if it did not come, that also worked on the crew’s minds. The best time for enemy planes to attack was during the bomb run as the bombers were flying straight to the target. When over the target, the enemy fighters stopped attacking and the flak became heavy. The German gunners knew the altitude and direction of the planes, so bombers were sitting ducks during the bomb run. In one case Burton was called to another location on the plane and while he was away from his position a piece of flak came through the skin of the bomber right where he had been stationed next to his gun; a narrow escape indeed!
After the release of bombs, the pilot turned the plane quickly and headed for home. Then fighters usually started attacking again. Later in the war, long range US fighter aircraft were able to escort our bombers, so the enemy had our fighters to deal with, saving many crewmembers lives. Burton’s longest mission was to Berlin – a ten-hour mission. The flak was the heaviest he had ever seen, coming from what he later learned were 844 anti-aircraft guns dispersed around Berlin.
When returning safely over the English Channel, after the strain and excitement of a mission, Burton would sometimes fall asleep on a lumpy bed of spent 50 caliber machine gun casings. If a bomber had a wounded crewmember on board, a flare was fired from the plane to indicate it needed priority in landing as well as needing the “meat wagon” to pick up and care for the wounded crewmember. Then came a 45-minute debriefing on anything of importance during the mission, a shot of whisky to help calm the nerves, a nap and then a visit to the mess hall for some “chow”.
After 35 missions and being relieved from further combat, the food got noticeably worse. The best food was saved to feed the combat crews. Burton remembers a lot of Spam being served to him after his 35th mission.
The most memorable flight Burton made in Europe was the bomb run in support of the June 6, D-Day invasion. He was awakened on June 5 at 10 pm and told “this is for real; the invasion is on”. Every member of the invasion force was given a letter from General Eisenhower, the Supreme Allied commander telling them of his confidence in each person and asking the blessings of Almighty God on the great undertaking about to begin.
The excitement and morale was so high there were people volunteering to fly on D-Day. Burton’s plane was to fly over Colleville, France and drop bombs in support of the landing. Each bomber was marked with two thick black stripes surrounding the fuselage to distinguish them from any of our planes the Germans may have captured and in turn, might try to enter our formations to shoot down our planes.
After the bombs were dropped, the planes had to turn east to avoid flying over our men and perhaps getting shot down by friendly, but confused, forces. Burton’s bomb run was successful, and all bombs were dropped 15 minutes before the landings. Burton’s next D-Day bombing mission was at 5:15 pm over Vire, France dropping 12 – 500# fragmentation bombs to disrupt communication lines. There were no enemy planes in sight on either mission.
In total, Burton spent 219 combat hours on B-24s and a similar amount of time in training flights. After 35 missions in combat Burton volunteered as a gunnery instructor in Laredo Texas but there were more instructors than students, so he was sent to Greenville MS to do office work until he was discharged. The news of victory in Europe and later, over Japan, thrilled him. He was proud to have served his country and thankful he did not meet the fate of so many of his friends who died in combat. He returned to Eden and his work in Production Scheduling at Fieldcrest Mills. He also continued as an active member of Bethlehem United Methodist Church, the church he originally joined in 1927.
Burton married his sweetheart Frances August 11, 1945. They had no children. Frances died February 25, 1999, after almost 54 years of marriage. She had been a teacher for many years in Eden schools. Since 1951, Burton has been very active as a volunteer, particularly with youth at the YMCA and as a member of the board of directors of the Y’s Men’s Club. He also served as a Y’s Men Regional Director. He continues to help when he is able. Jesse Burton never gives up!
Collins, William H. “Pansy”
Nineteen-year-old Pansy Collins was encouraged by the Collins’ family physician to join the North Carolina National Guard in 1939. He expected to make extra money while enjoying time with his friends who were also in the Guard. It promised to be a fun, part time job. Collins was shocked three weeks after joining up; his unit was called to active duty. This was the beginning of an unplanned six-year military career.
Collins came from a large family and had to drop out of school at age 16 to get work and help with household expenses. He worked at Washington Mills for a short time but left for a job with the North Carolina roads crew – part of the NC Highway Dept. One day, while a fellow employee was kneeling doing some work, he looked up at the tall, young man standing over him and said, “You look like a blooming Pansy, standing there.” The name stuck and Collins has been known as “Pansy” ever since.
When Collins was called to active duty with the NCNG in September 1939, his division was sent to Fort Jackson SC where Collins was assigned to the motor pool as a mechanic. Even though he was in the motor pool, he also received infantry training. He became adept at helping break down advanced mobile hospital units, moving them and setting up in other locations under combat conditions. This movement was all done in about five hours with Collins one of those transporting the equipment. The officers in charge made the experience as much like war as possible. There were some soldiers injured during maneuvers, so it was not all “make believe” in the hospital tents.
The 30th Infantry Division trained in South Carolina, Florida, and Indiana. The Pearl Harbor sneak attack happened on December 7, 1941, while Collins was at Camp Atterbury IN. The Division immediately went on alert with tanks, artillery, and men getting ready to go to war. The 30th Division was probably one of the best trained in the Army before going to Boston in February 1944 for assignments in England. The convoy was one of the largest to leave the United States carrying men and material to England in preparation for the coming invasion of Europe.
While on the ship, Collins caught the flu, and a division doctor told him he would have to put him in the hospital and he could catch up with his Division later. Collins did not want to be assigned to another unit away from his friends so when the ship arrived at Liverpool, a sick Collins sneaked off the ship and stayed with his division. He recovered from the flu soon after.
England was ravaged by war. The sights and sounds of war that Collins experienced upon arrival were expected but jarring, nonetheless. The training went on at a quickened pace and, while somewhat repetitious, was never boring to Collins. The men were being trained to expect anything they might experience when they faced the enemy, and their reactions were to be second nature. The division trucks were all waterproof so they could be driven partially under water. The intake and exhaust stacks on all trucks extended above the cab of the truck. Collins was the Division transportation special projects man and drove his truck all over southern England. The officers knew if Collins were given an assignment to obtain material, he could get it done.
The trucks and equipment were camouflaged so German pilots would not see the buildup of trucks and material that was happening in England. Collins knew the invasion was coming and was ready to go – he wanted to get over it. The men could not talk about anything they heard or saw while training. The motto “Loose lips, sink ships” had a very serious meaning to Collins and his fellow soldiers.
After the invasion took place on June 6, 1944, Collins’ 105th Medical Battalion was to go ashore on Omaha beach on June 10. The water was so rough that the landing could not take place where they were to go. They finally went ashore on June 12. The Navy Construction Battalion men (CBs) pushed sand out to the LST ships so the trucks on board could get ashore. The water was so deep the trucks could not otherwise make it ashore even with their waterproofing. The orders to the 105th Medical Battalion were to get off the beach to the high ground, then reassembling, awaiting further orders. There were 24 trucks in Collins’ group and hundreds overall. He heard machine gun fire and artillery shells exploding in the distance. There was more noise than Collins thought was possible.
From Omaha Beach, the 105th Medical Battalion went inland about five miles and set up an advanced base hospital for the wounded. First aid was given, and serious cases were sent back to England to an evacuation hospital. Collins was active picking up blood plasma and medical supplies as well as water for drinking and cooking for patients and 30th Division personnel. The mobile hospital Collins was attached to move about every two weeks. They would leapfrog over another mobile hospital to keep up with the advancing troops and to give the other hospital relief from the strenuous workload of the medical personnel. Collins drove between the two mobile hospitals regularly, moving equipment and supplies. The hospitals had everything except x-ray machines to help treat the wounded. Later, even x-ray machines were available to mobile hospitals. Sanitation was always a problem. There was alcohol available for disinfecting hands. Some were used for drinking, without approval, of course.
Captured German soldiers were treated at the hospital and were given the same measure of care as our men. The older German soldiers were happy to be captured and out of the war but the younger ones in their 20’s were hostile for the most part, especially SS troops (the Schutzstaffel – Hitler’s personal troops) – the most fanatic members of the German Army. In July 1944 the 30th Division endured one of the most tragic parts of war, accidental bombing of our troops by our bombers. Eighty-eight men were killed and over 500 wounded in that episode. The highest-ranking person to be killed by our bombers was General Leslie J. McNair. The 30th Division was known as the “Workhorse of the Western Front” because of the heavy combat load.
In late 1944, the 105th Medical Battalion was in Harlingen, Holland. A family with three children befriended Collins and invited him to stay at their home while the 105th Medical Battalion was there operating a hospital for 13 weeks. The 105th was then sent to Aachen Germany to set up a hospital. It was quiet for a time as the Germans were retreating. In September 1944, the Germans counter-attacked but were beaten back. The 105th went back to Belgium for a time and then were involved in combat during the Battle of the Bulge. Collins job was picking up dead and wounded from the battlefield: one of the grisliest jobs in the army. He was near the battle lines regularly during that action. At one point, his unit was to relieve the 99th Division mobile hospital. Several of Collins’ friends, wearing appropriate red crosses on their sleeves, arrived at the site, but were killed by German soldiers. The 30th Division declared “personal” war on the Germans at that point and was determined to avenge those deaths.
After the Battle of the Bulge, the 30th Division advanced under combat conditions all the way to the Elbe River where Russian and American troops met. On May 8, “Victory in Europe” was declared. There was a big celebration and word spread that troops might have to go to the Pacific for the invasion of Japan. Collins did not go home right away. After several of the sergeants in the motor pool returned to the US, Collins was put in charge of the motor pool although only a corporal. The sergeants complained that Collins, as a subordinate, was giving them driving assignments. The Company Commander told them, “If you want to keep your sergeant stripes, follow Corporal Collins’ orders”.
Collins finally got out of the Army in September 1945. The voyage home was rough, and Collins was happy to see dry land again upon arrival at New York. He was sent to Camp Shanks for processing and on to Fort Bragg for discharge from the Army. Collins said he had no trouble adjusting to civilian life but did take several months off to get back into the routine of being home. He worked briefly in the trucking business and at a local grocery store. One day he happened to meet a man who was looking for someone with Collins’ skills to work for the local Lee Telephone Company. Collins took the job and stayed in the telephone business for 50 years, retiring from Sprint Nextel Company as a field engineer.
Reflecting on his years in WWII, Collins thinks often of the friends and fellow soldiers killed while relieving the 99th Division medical crew. He sees their dead bodies again in his mind’s eye and remembers. It could have been Collins that died that day. The 30th Infantry Division lost 3,003 men killed in action, 13,376 wounded and 513 died of their wounds.
Collins and his wife Polly have one son, one daughter, four grandchildren and they enjoy spoiling five great grandchildren.
Czelusniak, Paul A.
Paul Czelusniak’s submarine USS Billfish was trapped on the bottom of the Yellow Sea. An aggressive Japanese destroyer was firing depth charges, which exploded all around Billfish. The crew was quiet and tense. Softly, over the loudspeaker Captain Farley, the commanding officer, read a passage from Holy Scripture as the submarine settled to the bottom – then silence. Most crew members were on their knees praying, fully expecting the next explosion to put them in a watery grave. Miraculously, the destroyer lost contact, saving the lives of the Billfish crew. “It was way too close for comfort”, says Paul Czelusniak.
Czelusniak was born in Nanticoke PA, one of eight children. In Nanticoke, his father relied heavily on coalminer business in his automobile garage, but the unions had virtually shut down the mines in the late 30’s. Czelusniak’s father was unable to survive financially, so he moved his family to Amsterdam NY, getting work at the Mohawk Rug Mill in Auburn NY. Paul quit school after the 11th grade to help support the family and worked in a cotton mill for a time, then Mohawk Rug Co. and finally at the Army Supply Depot near Amsterdam.
Czelusniak remembers well when Pearl Harbor was attacked, having heard the news over the radio while sitting in his living room. He immediately went down to enlist but his parents did not grant permission. When he approached 18 years of age, he told his parents he did not want to be drafted into the Army, so he asked, and received, his parents’ approval to join the Navy. A heart murmur found during his physical prevented his entry into the Navy. When he registered for the draft, Czelusniak fully expected to be rejected because of the heart murmur. During the examination for induction, no murmur was found. Czelusniak was bound for the Army until he happened to see a Navy recruiter who allowed him to join before his official induction into the Army. A heart murmur was not detected in the Navy physical.
Boot camp followed at Sampson NY in December 1943. Because of his carpentry experience in High School, he was assigned work to build a large wooden cabinet, among other items, for use by one of the senior petty officers. Consequently, he missed four out of eight weeks of boot camp while working on carpentry projects.
His aptitude tests indicated he would make a good Torpedoman, so he was sent to Newport RI to an eight-week Torpedoman school. He learned all aspects of the Mark 14 and Mark 15 torpedoes, which were the mainstays of the submarine fleet. The Mark 14 and 15 Torpedoes are 21 inches in diameter; about 20-1/2 feet long and weigh well over 3,000 pounds. They carried about 600 pounds of a special high explosive called Torpex. The torpedoes ran on steam generated in a combustion chamber within the torpedo. A trip lever in the torpedo tube as it is launched starts the whole process working to activate the combustion and steam. The torpedoes were beautifully made of polished stainless steel built to withstand 3,000 lbs per square inch pressure.
A Torpedoman, when firing a torpedo, opens the inner doors of the torpedo tube and using winches, inserts the torpedo in the tube. Information on the target ship’s speed, range, and bearing from conning tower observations is put into the Torpedo Data Computer built into the torpedo. The outer doors are opened and upon receiving orders from the conning tower, the torpedo is fired, using compressed air to blow it out of the tube. The work of a Torpedoman was one of many jobs critical to the survival of a submarine during combat.
Czelusniak then volunteered for submarine school in New London CT where he was immersed in all aspects of submarine operations. Aboard a submarine, a crewmember could be caught in any area of a submarine during battle as watertight doors are closed during combat. If you were in a particular space, you had to know what to do in that space – your life depended on it. When a submarine crewmember was thoroughly trained, he would receive his “dolphin” insignia indicating he was part of the elite undersea force – a SUBMARINER.
Czelusniak was also trained in the use of the “Momsen lung” a breathing device which allowed submariners to escape from a sunken submarine. During the training on the Momsen lung, the psychological fear of water at great depth was enough to “wash out” many of the aspirants for submarine service. Czelusniak’s fear was not of the water but only of failing to attain his goal of being a submariner. During a pressure test, he was put in a small airtight chamber, and the air pressure was increased every few seconds until he thought his eardrums would burst. He had to swallow often to equalize the pressure. It grew very hot in the chamber, and he perspired profusely so that his Navy jeans were stuck to his skin. His skin was blue from the dye in his pants. He passed the pressure test!
His only dive in a submarine at New London was in an old WW I submarine that leaked. As the boat went down a heavy stream of water came from a fitting, and the students were frightened. The grizzled chief petty officer told the students that the leak would “seal” as they went deeper. No one believed him at the time, but it did. Another psychological test!
Czelusniak was then assigned to San Diego to be trained in electric torpedoes. The steam torpedo looked like an elegant piece of machinery with all the polished stainless steel while, Czelusniak said, the electric torpedo “looked like a large old, weathered tin can”. Seventy-two battery cells drove it. The electric torpedoes were simpler and were coated with Cosmoline, like heavy Vaseline, to avoid rust. Their cost was small compared to the stainless-steel torpedoes, but they were effective.
After the voyage to Pearl Harbor, he was assigned to USS Billfish. He was a second-class seaman at the time. The captain had to approve all new crewmembers and said, “we only have first class seaman or above on this vessel, so I am promoting you immediately to 1st class seaman.”
Due to the heat aboard the submarine Czelusniak typically only wore cut off Navy jeans, a tee shirt, and special noiseless sandals. The decks of Billfish were also padded to eliminate noise. Typically, Czelusniak had four hours on duty and eight off, around the clock. When off duty he was either sleeping or working on something related to his job. He had limited time for personal things.
Czelusniak’s bunk was in the “bridal suite” as it was called, located in the forward torpedo room, the best bunk on the submarine for an enlisted man. He did not have to alternate use of his bunk with anyone else while all the other sailors had to alternate use of a bunk. There were no sheets, and he slept with his clothes on. When fresh water was available, he could shower and wash his clothes. His gear locker was the size of a normal suitcase. He only had his work uniform aboard the submarine with a couple changes of underwear as well as the standard foul weather gear. His dress blues and any dress outerwear were stored at Pearl Harbor.
On the eighth war patrol, USS Billfish sunk one Japanese cargo vessel and experienced the depth charge attack mentioned earlier. While on the surface on August 6, 1945, a lookout saw the flash of the atomic bomb explosion. The Billfish crew did not learn the war was over because they could not break radio silence. After the Billfish crew learned the war was over, the worst part of the return to Pearl Harbor was going through a minefield aware that a mine could sink the vessel “after the war was over”. Czelusniak heard some mine cables scraping the side of Billfish, which was very unnerving.
After short stays at Eniwetok and Pearl Harbor, the Billfish was going home via the Panama Canal to Houston TX for the first Navy Day celebration and on to Staten Island NY. Czelusniak was released from active duty at Long Island NY. It was Christmas Eve 1945 and Czelusniak took the train to Amsterdam and surprised his parents who came home from catholic mass to find him sleeping on the couch.
Czelusniak returned to the Army Depot for a while and then worked for Mohawk Rug Co. He was offered a job with Karastan Rug Mill in Auburn NY and then transferred to Eden NC. He retired as a Creative Product Specialist with twelve patents regarding rug and carpet manufacturing to his name.
He is married to the former Betty Ingalls and has five children scattered across the country. He is very proud that his two sons and grandson have served in the military. Paul Jr. served on nuclear submarines during the cold war. His son Vernon served 21 years in the Coast Guard, earning a PHD degree after his time in service. His grandson is a pilot with the US Coast Guard.
Czelusniak is proud to have served his country on USS Billfish with such a great group of fighting men.
Davidson, James C. (Jimmy)
It was a long way from a family farm near Asheboro, North Carolina to the horror and death of the Battle of the Bulge in Belgium during December 1944. Jimmy Davidson traveled that road to war and earned five battle stars along the way.
Davidson graduated from High School in Asheboro in June of 1941, was well aware of the war in Europe, and was concerned about how it would affect he and his friends. On December 7, 1941, Davidson and his father were in the family car and they heard the news flash of the attack on Pearl Harbor. Like all men his age he registered for the draft, expecting to be called quickly. Davidson got work at a local textile mill and surprisingly a year passed before he was called to active duty on January 8, 1943. When Davidson received his letter to report for duty, the depressing news from the front lines in Europe and the Far East during the first year of United States participation in the war was disturbing to him.
Davidson was sent by troop train to Camp Croft, SC, for processing and further assignment. He received all his uniforms and shots and due to the needs of war was assigned immediately to the 385th Anti-Aircraft Artillery unit. The needs were so great for anti-aircraft batteries that his basic training was done within the 385th unit. The 385th was sent en masse to Camp Edwards, MA where his training was completed. From Camp Edwards, his unit was assigned to other locations for war games and training for combat.
War games completed, Davidson’s unit was sent to Camp Shanks, NY and put on a converted luxury liner, Aquitania, headed to Glasgow, Scotland. The trip to Scotland was a nightmare due to heavy seas and resulting seasickness among the men. Aquitania was unescorted on the way to Scotland and there were several submarine alerts. The ship had no defensive armament and could only zig zag as a defensive measure. She was a sitting duck on the high seas. Fortunately, no submarines attacked Aquitania. All the troops were either sick, about to be sick or just getting over being sick during the trip. Davidson’s unit finally reached Glasgow and immediately went into training mode for D Day and combat. Men, their rifles, artillery pieces and all equipment were in first class condition ready to go across the channel. Davidson’s duties were as a supply person whose responsibility was to get whatever was needed at the time. By the time his unit finally went to Normandy, Davidson had learned the location and the best way to drive to every supply depot in England. England reminded Davidson of a balloon about to burst with all the men and material ready to go to Europe on D Day and beyond.
D Day, June 6, finally arrived and Davidson’s unit went into a staging area to follow up the infantry to the Normandy beaches after a few days when Anti-Aircraft Artillery would be needed. Landing Ship Tank (LST) vessels were loaded with artillery pieces, trucks, and bulldozers to help unload on the beaches. The 385th went into Utah beach and the soft sand created a problem in unloading the heavy artillery pieces but with bulldozers and winches the guns were brought ashore ready to go inland.
Davidson recalls some of the advance infantry troops were responsible for lighting smoke bombs to guide the bombers to the front lines so they could bomb the retreating Germans. Unfortunately, the smoke drifted back over our lines, and we bombed some of our own troops. This was a tragedy in that many of our men were killed along with the highest-ranking officer killed during the invasion, General Leslie J. McNair.
Davidson’s Artillery unit advanced quickly and set up the artillery pieces several times a day. German fighters and bombers were active but not in abundance due to shortages of gasoline and pilots.
His unit advanced steadily toward Paris and arrived immediately after it was liberated on August 25. Davidson’s recollection is that the people were overcome with joy, and it was difficult to go through the streets due to people on the side of the roads throwing kisses and hugging the troops.
After Paris, Davidson’s unit went to Belgium to defend the St. Trond airfield, which was under frequent attack by the German air force. While there, the 385th shot down 3 German fighters and 2 bombers. Even with the retreat of the German army, there were still many pockets of resistance and Davidson states “You could get shot at from any direction and some of our troops were killed by sporadic sniper fire”.
Davidson’s unit was sent toward Bastogne, Belgium but before it arrived the German attack called the “Battle of the Bulge” began. The Colonel in charge passed down information that all units were to abandon their equipment due to the sudden attack and get to safety before being overrun. A tough old gun sergeant told Davidson “We are not leaving our gun, hitch it to your truck, pull it out and take it with us”. In 15 minutes, the truck and gun with Davidson driving went down the side of the hill and with the truck back firing, popping, and shaking they reached the bottom of the valley, went across a bridge and hid behind some houses. Looking up, Davidson could see the Panzer tanks line up and they began firing. The Battle of the Bulge was underway. The men of the 385th got out of the trucks and hid in culverts so shrapnel from the German artillery would not hit them. In the meantime, a British unit came up to help and allowed the 385th to get out of harm’s way but not before some of the British tanks were blown up by the German Panzer 88 guns. A remarkable occurrence happened during all this chaos and fighting; the British troops stopped to have a “spot of tea” at 4 PM.
During the night the sounds and sights were beyond description. It was as though the greatest Fourth of July celebration ever had been transported to Belgium. The “screaming meamies” made the most dreadful sound. This was a mobile rocket launcher the Germans used and it was designed to be destructive as well as terrifying in the noise it made.
Davidson’s unit advanced toward the Ardennes Forest not knowing the Germans had completely surrounded his and other units in the area. In the Ardennes, the Germans fired phosphorus shells, which lit the sky and could maim or kill if they hit a soldier. Also, shells were fired at the tops of trees to explode and rain shrapnel on the troops in the forest. As history tells us, the Battle of the Bulge failed, and huge numbers of German troops began surrendering. This was one of the defining moments in the battle in Europe; a failed last-ditch effort by the German high command to win the war but at the cost of many allied lives. Davidson recollects the German troops that surrendered were very docile and quiet – thoroughly beaten. There were very young as well as very old men in the groups that surrendered; the last of the men the 3rd Reich had available to call for service.
Davidson’s unit went on across Germany to meet the Russians at the Elbe River. It su0rprised him to see women driving some of the Russian tanks. The Germans surrendered and the war was over for Davidson. He had enough points with his five battle stars to get out of the service and was assigned to Camp Lucky Strike in France for debarkation to the US. While there, victory over Japan was declared. Davidson traveled by ship to New York and then to Ft. Bragg, NC for discharge.
After discharge, Davidson returned to Asheboro but later came to Eden (Leaksville) to enter the loan business. After eight years in that business, he bought and operated the Leaksville Hardware store on Washington St. in old Leaksville for 38 years. Davidson is married and has two daughters, one of whom is deceased, and two granddaughters who give he and his wife Jewel, great joy.
Davidson feels fortunate to be alive and to have suffered no injuries while in the service. His experiences are priceless to him, but he misses his dear friends who were not so fortunate and remain in the military cemeteries in Europe.
Easter, Coy Edward
Coy Easter had never traveled further from his home in Stoneville NC than to Winston Salem NC. This changed when he was 19 years old and drafted into the US Army. He was destined for combat in faraway places and exposure to a world of weapons, battles, misery and death.
Easter reported to his basic training station at Camp Blanding, FL August 31, 1944. In the indoctrination process the Army interviewer learned that Easter enjoyed hunting small game. He later proved his skill on the rifle range and was good enough to have been selected as a sniper – but instead was assigned to the infantry.
The war in Europe was going well for the Allies. The Pacific theater was now the larger problem. After completing basic training, men drafted in late 1944 were sent to Florida to be trained in jungle warfare to fight the Japanese. After Easter had received his medical shots for the Pacific, an ominous event occurred on December 16th, 1944; the German army unexpectedly attacked our forces in an action called the Ardennes Offensive or the Battle of the Bulge. Easter’s destiny changed suddenly. His unit undergoing jungle training was required to support combat operations in Europe. They would be replacements troops for the 95th Division.
In January 1945, after two days leave, Easter went to Ft. Meade MD to regroup and then to Boston to board the luxury liner “Ille de France” for the voyage to England. When the ship left Boston, it was snowing, and the ship had six inches of snow on deck. The ship was crowded and a far cry from “luxury” status. Stewed tomatoes were served every day on the eight-day trip. The men had to eat from their mess kits but were unable to wash them adequately. They became unsanitary and caused most men to get sick while at sea. It was a challenge to sit in the mess hall to eat with sick, as well as seasick, men. A rolling ship made it more difficult to keep any food down. Most men did not.
When the ship arrived in Glasgow Scotland, the men were put on a train to Southampton England and without delay were put on LSTs (Landing Ship Tank) to Le Havre France, ready for combat. Sleet and snow greeted the men as they left the LSTs onto French soil. Easter saw no intact buildings in Le Havre. It was bombed flat.
That night the men stayed in a tent city with some hot chocolate to keep them warm. The tent had no floor so Easter lay down on his raincoat spread out on the mud and tried to sleep. It was freezing weather and one of the most miserable nights he spent in Europe. He had his “companions” in the form of a 45-caliber pistol, an M1 rifle, bayonet and 500 rounds of ammunition. A hand grenade was hanging from a hook on every buttonhole. It would be thirty days before Easter could have a bath. The only officer in the Division at that point was one Captain. All other officers had been killed in combat.
The 95th Division had recently captured Metz, France in a bloody battle. Easter and his unit went to Metz and on to Frankfort as replacements to compensate for the heavy combat losses. Easter had no idea of his location while marching or in the troop trucks until he saw signs for the towns he was entering. Upon reaching the Rhine River, it was common to be fired upon by German troops on the other side. The 95th Division immediate objective was to prevent destruction by the Germans of a bridge over the Rhine near Hamm Germany. The Germans defended the bridge well and killed all men in the 95th first patrol to attempt to go across. The 95th tried again and this was also a suicide mission. The Germans were successful in blowing up the bridge. The 95th soon captured another bridge spanning the Rhine.
While near Hamm, an old man on a bicycle was approaching Easter’s platoon and refused to halt for questioning. When he turned around and tried to cycle away, several shots were fired at him. Unknown to Easter’s platoon, there was a graveyard nearby with German soldiers behind tombstones ready to ambush Easter and his men. When the shots were fired, they all stood up and surrendered as they thought the shots had been fired at them. Easter and one other man were assigned to take the prisoners back to headquarters. As Easter says, “Here were two “young kids” taking responsibility for 25 German prisoners”. Fortunately, at this stage of the war the Germans were ready to quit and offered no resistance to Easter and his fellow soldier.
When Easter’s unit moved into the suburbs of Hamm, they were pinned down by German machine gun fire. The men laid down flat and could hear the bullets as they whizzed just inches over their heads. Just then a US tank came into view, headed directly for Easter. At the last second it turned, and Easter was spared being crushed under the tank treads. The tank blew up the German machine gun nest so Easter’s unit could advance. Easter commented that while in combat he used every survival instinct he had to stay alive while still doing his duty. He was fearful but forced himself to go on in order to not let down his buddies who were in the same situation.
In the Ruhr Valley area Easter’s unit came across some Russians who had escaped from a German prison camp. They were very hungry and could not wait for some eggs to be cooked for them but rather wolfed them down shell and all. They were sent on their way back to their own lines.
Easter’s division was assigned to Lipstadt to join up with the 1st Army to contain and destroy German Army Group B. It was successful and over a period of several days over 300,000 German troops surrendered. Captured rifles were piled as high as a house. Field Marshal Walther Model was the commander of the troops and rather than technically “surrender” and infuriate Hitler, Model simply “disbanded” the Army. It was the largest single German surrender in the war – and to the 95th Division. Field Marshal Model committed suicide rather than be tried as a war criminal. Hitler also committed suicide within two weeks of the Model surrender.
Easter holds images in his mind of the tragedies war brings to the innocent. He remembers well the death of fellow soldiers, the sight of dead bodies and starving children on the side of the road – women fighting over a piece of bread for a child. He remembers the skin of German people being yellow from poor diet and starvation. Easter remembers his aversion to food. The sights and smells did not allow him to eat regularly unless he was simply famished. The greatest hurt he remembers is one of his buddies being fatally wounded, bleeding and dying near him. It seems like a dream now but was reality then.
On March 6, 1945, Easter was advancing on German lines and struck by shrapnel. He did not realize he had been wounded because there was so much action around him. Easter earned a purple heart, but the wound did not take him from combat.
While going through a little town he came across a dead German soldier. Curiously, he looked through soldier’s billfold and saw a picture of the soldier, a young wife and two girls. It struck him that this German soldier was just like him – doing his job – one he did not want to do but had to do.
Shortly after the Model surrender, the war was over in Europe and Easter was given 30 days leave before being assigned to the Pacific to fight the Japanese. During his training assignment at Camp Shelby MS, the war in Japan ended. He was assigned to Ft. Meade MD to help in the discharge process of soldiers and to work in the base Post Office. During his year there, he was eventually placed in charge of the Past Office and promptly wrote up promotions for all the men in the Post Office, including himself. They went through. He did it again within 30 days and those promotions also went through. So Easter went from Corporal to Staff Sergeant in less than two months immediately prior to discharge.
Easter is impressed by the randomness of war. How one soldier is killed yet the one next to him spared. He wonders how insignificant, but brave young boys could win a war against the greatest tyranny the world knew at that time. Those questions remain to this day!
After the war Easter’s primary occupation was as a building contractor. He and his wife Connie are active people in the Madison community. He has three children, two who live locally and one in Connecticut.
Elliott, George R.
At Pearl Harbor on the morning of December 7, 1941, George Elliott was looking at death as the Japanese pilot flew directly toward him but unexplainably did not fire his machine guns. Elliott says this was a frightening moment of his life that lives in his memory to this day.
His long journey to Pearl Harbor started in Maggie Valley, NC where he was born. When he was seven years old, his family moved to Reidsville where Elliott attended Reidsville schools. After he graduated from high school, he worked for Burlington Mills for a few years. He had been concerned about the growing war in Europe and, feeling he might be involved, was not too surprised to receive a draft notice in early 1941. His draftee group was one of the first to leave Reidsville for military service.
He arrived at Fort Bragg and three days later was transferred to San Diego, CA for basic training. His trip to California was unusual in that he was assigned to a Pullman sleeper, and his meals were served to him and a porter made up his bed in the morning. For a draftee, it was an unusually pleasant beginning to his Army life. It did not last however, as his 13 weeks of basic training were very rigorous.
After basic training and hearing many rumors as to where his group would be going, he ultimately was assigned to Oahu, Hawaii with the 55th Coast Artillery. Elliott’s voyage to Hawaii was memorable as he was nearly washed overboard during a storm when a huge wave struck the ship while he was on deck. He arrived at Fort Kamehameha on Oahu in September 1941. In late September, he was moved to Fort Barrette with a Coastal Defense unit assigned to scan the sky for aircraft as well as man 16-inch guns against invading ships. Their searchlight could detect an aircraft up to 30,000 feet and with binoculars; its insignia could be identified. The guns could reach targets 30 miles away. Elliott’s primary duty was plotting where the shells fell in the ocean and reporting it to fire control for adjustments in range or bearing. .
On Friday December 5, his unit was put on alert but issued no ammunition. The alert was called off after 30 minutes with no explanation given. Ironically, at that time the attacking Japanese task force was within 1,000 miles of Pearl Harbor. On Saturday evening, he was given a pass to go to Honolulu and that evening a truck picked him up, along with others, to take them back to Ft. Barrette, arriving about 1 a.m. Sunday morning. On the way back, as they observed the Navy docks, one in the group remarked that the ships would make a dandy target as they were so brightly lit up. Another remarked that no enemy could get close enough to launch a surprise attack on the US Fleet at Pearl Harbor. In hindsight, Elliott says those were prophetic observations with only one being accurate.
On Sunday December 7, Elliott had eaten breakfast and was back in his tent when he heard gunfire and bombs exploding. He ran out and saw soldiers with steel helmets running everywhere. Japanese aircraft were flying around the docks and torpedo bombers were coming in very low to release torpedoes at the big ships tied to the docks at Ford Island. The planes were so close, Elliott could see the pilots smiling as they came roaring in to release torpedoes. Elliott saw the USS Arizona bombed as well as the explosions, which sank her.
His Commanding officer said for all troops to get under cover, as they had no ammunition with which to defend themselves. One man ran through an unopened screen door in his flight to safety. One plane came in directly at Elliott and his group. He did not fire at Elliott but fired and killed another man and injured several others. Elliott narrowly missed running into the line of fire. They reached safety in the command room for his unit and were there for two days before further orders were received.
Rumors were rampant. Elliott heard from an officer that the Japanese would be landing an invasion force the next morning. Most of the military were in a state of shock and anxiety regarding the next Japanese move against Hawaii. History tells us the Japanese made a major mistake from their perspective, in not following up the first attack with another. Elliott says blackouts began everywhere on the island on Sunday December 7 and lights did not shine at night for four years. If he had to go out at night, he had a flashlight with a 1/32 square inch hole for light to shine through. Headlights on vehicles had a very narrow slit that light could shine through to allow a person barely to see the road.
For several days after the attack, Elliott got so little sleep that he was totally exhausted. For weeks he had on his uniform 24 hours a day with full combat gear, rifle, ammunition, gas mask and steel helmet. His helmet was his pillow at night. After one duty stint, he went to an out of the way section of the command center and lay down on the concrete floor. He slept so soundly that when his next duty rotation came up 4 hours later they could not find him. He was about to be labeled “missing in action” when he was found sound asleep in the command center.
Six months after the Pearl Harbor attack, his Commanding Officer told the troops that things were no better for the defense of Hawaii than they were on December 7. The information he gave was that plans were in place for destroying all equipment, guns and material that could be of use to the Japanese and if the Japanese attacked again the unit would head for the mountains in the interior of Oahu and it would be every man for himself. That was not comforting news to Elliott.
The Japanese did not come back to Hawaii and Elliott had seen the enemy close and personally on December 7 for the first and last time. After the Battle of Midway in June 1942, which was the turning point of the war in the Pacific, conditions were better on Hawaii and more hopeful. Elliott’s remaining time in Hawaii was spent doing his work by day in the Coastal Defense unit and regularly doing guard duty at night. In early 1945, Elliott was reassigned to Miami FL and after victory in Europe was achieved, he volunteered to go to Italy with the army of occupation. This was superseded in May 1945 by assignment to an Amphibious Tank unit in preparation for the invasion of Japan. Amphibious tank personnel were coming together from all over the world preparing for the invasion.
In July 1945, Elliott and many others were surprised to be given the opportunity to be released from duty or stay in the Army. An immediate yes or no answer was required. He chose to be released and in several weeks was home, out of the Army, shortly before the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima.
Elliott and his wife Sarah have a son and daughter and 10 grandchildren. He and his wife continue to enjoy an active life in Reidsville.
Elliott considers himself fortunate that he was not injured in the war and generally enjoyed his duty except for the deep pain of losing friends to enemy fire. After returning to Reidsville, Elliott worked briefly at American Tobacco and for local hardware stores before opening Elliott Hardware in 1958, operating that business for 30 years.
Fleishman, Alvin T.
December 7th, 1941, Alvin Fleishman was visiting with a girlfriend who attended Madison College in Harrisonburg VA. They were listening to a concert on the radio when there was an interruption announcing the surprise attack on Pearl Harbor. Fleishman left immediately to get back to Washington and Lee University to check on the Navy commission he had applied for earlier. On his return, he drove through Richmond VA, and he recalls it was a “scary evening” because all the streetlights were out and there were sentries on the bridges around Richmond checking on the cars. He did not know it yet but there were much worse evenings in store for him in the South Pacific.
Fleishman’s father worked for the B. Fleishman Store in Anderson SC owned by his uncle. As a boy, Alvin Fleishman worked part time at the store. He was a very good student, graduating from Boy’s High School in Anderson as valedictorian in 1937. That was sufficient to obtain a scholarship to Washington and Lee University, Lexington VA where he took accounting and was involved in many extracurricular activities, including editor of the school newspaper. Fleishman also graduated as valedictorian of his class at Washington and Lee.
After graduating from W&L in 1941, Fleishman worked for a time in Richmond VA at Thalhimer Dept Stores. After the Pearl Harbor attack, he remarked, “Working at Thalhimer’s during Christmas season 1941 was full of both joy and despair.” On January 2, 1942, Fleishman went to Norfolk to check on the Navy commission for which he had applied. He received his commission March 1 and was called to active duty May 1, 1942.
Fleishman’s first duty station was Norfolk Navy Yard as an assistant supply officer because of his business training. He said, “If there was a dirty job to do I had to do it.” Frequently he oversaw the huge supply department on the midnight to 8 am watch. One night, an Ensign Lafarge from the cargo ship USS Titania came to him and said he desperately needed some supplies, as his ship was leaving port soon. Fleishman went out of his way to help Ensign Lafarge with his needs. This favor was paid back in late December 1942, when Fleishman was in desperate need of some supplies for USS Lardner and called on the cargo ship Titania for help. Ensign Lafarge returned the favor.
In mid-1942, Fleishman was assigned to Navy Supply Corps School at Harvard University to learn to be a professional navy supply officer. In September 1942, he received orders to report to the destroyer USS Lardner. It was “somewhere” in the South Pacific. Upon arrival at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, he saw the most depressing, indelible sights. Fleishman remarked, “Ships were capsized, lying in the mud. The USS Arizona was underwater with 1177 dead men aboard. Many ships were badly damaged at their docks. Hickam Field was shot up and there were holes in just about everything. It was a confusing and distressing time.”
Fleishman boarded the battleship USS South Dakota and remained for two months en route to New Caledonia to report to USS Lardner. While on USS South Dakota, he was assigned the job of gun spotter. That required going up the highest mast of the ship with a pair of binoculars to report where shells landed. It was frightening and literally made Fleishman sick to climb up there. He recalls, “I saw the battleship fire broadsides with nine 16-inch guns going off at the same time, each firing a projectile weighing 2300 pounds. The sky turned orange for about 30 seconds, and the ship moved about 100 feet from the recoil.”
On December 2, 1942, Fleishman finally boarded USS Lardner at Espiritu Santo in the New Hebrides Islands. After boarding her, USS Lardner went to Guadalcanal and on up the chain of islands to New Georgia, Munda, Vela Lavella, and Kolombangara and finally, Bougainville. USS Lardner was in action near all the islands. The area between the islands was called “the slot” where major sea battles took place. The Japanese ships came down to attack almost every night. The volunteer Australian coast watchers stationed on the islands alerted our naval forces of what the Japanese were doing so we were prepared to meet them.
There were two cruisers, USS Minneapolis and USS Pensacola, that were badly damaged by Japanese action and USS Lardner was assigned to escort them back for repair. Japanese submarines attacked and USS Lardner got credit for sinking one of them. USS Lardner was also responsible for keeping planes from attacking landing craft while they landed men on the islands. There also were small Japanese boats like our patrol torpedo boats harassing our landing craft. USS Lardner had to keep them away so landings could be completed.
Fleishman said, “We went through hell in the first six months of 1943 but in July 1943, we were assigned to escort the aircraft carrier USS Enterprise to Bremerton WA for refit after battle damage.” There were five battle-scarred destroyers accompanying USS Enterprise as it went into San Francisco harbor. There were fireboats with water streaming from their hoses along with horns blowing, bands playing, and applause. The people were celebrating the return of our valiant warships. Fleishman says, “It gives me goose bumps today thinking about that huge celebration.”
USS Lardner went back to help secure the last of the islands in the chain, Bougainville, in November 1943. USS Lardner anchored in the idyllic setting of Empress Augusta Bay. It was a beautiful beach with white sand and blue water and 35,000 fanatical Japanese troops waiting to attack our forces. In the background was a volcano that glowed red at night – a perfect backdrop for the bloody battle ahead. The first and second Marine divisions landed with heavy casualties. Fleishman said, “It was nasty” but US forces eventually won. USS Lardner was in heavy action fighting off enemy planes while escorting amphibious crafts in for the landings.
The commander of USS Lardner’s destroyer division and one of the heroes of WW II was Commander Arleigh Burke, later to become Admiral and Chief of Naval Operations under President Eisenhower. He gained his nickname “31 knot Burke” while USS Lardner was under his command. He always had his destroyers going fast, attacking the enemy, just under the speed where they might burst their boilers.
Around Thanksgiving 1943, USS Lardner was assigned to rescue some Marines who were being slaughtered by the Japanese on Bougainville. Two ships stood off a way while USS Lardner went near shore to rescue the Marines. The Marines got to the ship in whatever manner they could. Most had been wounded and many died trying to get to USS Lardner. In all about 600 men were rescued, 300 aboard USS Lardner and 300 aboard another destroyer. Japanese boats were attacking, and it was a harrowing run back to safety. It was very frightening for wounded Marines who had just been rescued and thought they were about to be killed aboard USS Lardner.
In November, Fleishman received detachment orders to return to the US. It took a lot of effort to get his captain to sign them, as the captain did not want Fleishman to leave the ship. The captain said, “You are the best Supply Officer I ever had.” Finally, the captain signed the orders, giving Fleishman a handshake and a hug. After many months in the South Pacific under battle conditions, Fleishman finally arrived at home to see his excited parents. The Navy sent Fleishman on to Harvard Business School, as he was selected to be in the Naval Contract Termination Unit. That unit was created to pay government contractors and help them get back to civilian production as final war production needs were met. Fleishman did this as the war wound down and for four months after the war ended.
In 1946, Fleishman married Florence Gates, a WAVE (female navy person) whom he had met while in the Navy. She died in 1992. They had three daughters and a son, Dr. Henry A. Fleishman, a surgeon in Eden NC. Alvin Fleishman never officially retired but continued to work in the family business – Fleishman Department Stores until 1989 and then taught accounting and personnel management at Tri County Technical School, Pendleton SC until his health would not permit his continuing to teach. Alvin Fleishman loved the US Navy and continued after the war in the Navy Reserve for 26 years, attaining the rank of Lieutenant Commander.
Griffith, L. Bethel
Bethel Griffith was part of the “Lost Company”. In 1943, Company A, Tenth Amphibian Tractor Battalion, became separated from their Battalion and was in combat with various other units without pay or mail for seven months. A birthday cake sent by mail in August 1943 was finally received by Griffith in August 1944 – as a pile of dust. Company A was on no official roster or supply list. They survived by “procuring” as necessary, what they needed to function as a fighting unit.
Griffith was born in Virginia but grew up in Leaksville NC. He was drafted in 1943 but was in the Army only three days. His trip to Fort Jackson was in a converted cattle carrier with seats on the side walls, pulled by a truck. When at Fort Jackson, some marines came up to a group Griffith was in and said, “We need 10 good men.” The Marines appealed to Griffith, so he requested, and was granted, a discharge from the Army and joined the Marines.
Upon arriving at Parris Island for boot camp, his head was shaved, and Drill Sergeant Croft began calling Griffith and the other “boots” every name in the book to break them down and start building them up as Marines. Griffith says he was afraid of Sgt. Croft but did get used to the verbal abuse. His uniform consisted of two each, of t-shirts, under shorts, pants and fatigue jackets along with shoes and socks and a pith (a cork-like material) helmet. He had to wash clothes every day to be sure he had clean clothes. They were hung out to dry behind the barracks and frequently were stolen by other marines. Griffith’s T-shirts were stolen, and he had to steal one to be properly dressed because he could not buy one. It happened that one Griffith “confiscated” had Sgt. Croft’s name stenciled on it.
Intense training was going on every hour of the day and night. It was not unusual to be awakened at three a.m. for educational movies, calisthenics or rifle drills. Griffith said “I went in as a 17-year-old boy and came out a man. There was not an ounce of fat on me – I was all muscles. He was taught to kill or be killed. Unlike most, Griffith graduated as a Private First Class rather than Private.
Griffith was transferred to Camp Lejeune to begin Landing Vehicle Tractor (LVT) training. This was new, but necessary, as many of the Pacific islands had coral reef barriers that could not be crossed by a “Higgins boat” like those later used on D- Day landings in France. While in Camp Lejeune, Griffith heard regularly of German spies coming ashore from submarines and being caught.
In October 1943, Secretary of Navy Frank Knox came for the graduation of Griffith’s unit and later wanted to ride in an LVT. Griffith was the chosen driver and had the opportunity to shake hands with Secretary Knox. He told Griffith, “That was a good ride”.
The LVT, also called an amphibian tractor, could travel on water or land. They had a 250-horsepower engine, tank like treads with cup like cleats which allowed the vehicle to attain speed of 6 mph in the water. They could go 12 mph ashore. They carried 24 men or 4,500 pounds. They were about 20 feet long, seven feet high and weighed about 33,000 pounds. The LVT had two 50 cal. and one 30 cal. machine guns as armament. Griffith was slated to be a crew chief on a LVT.
It was a five-day trip to Griffith’s next duty in San Diego for further departure overseas. The troops were in two rail box cars that had two bathrooms for 125 people and one of those had all the bags in it. Griffith, at Private First Class, was the second highest rank in the box car so was designated co-leader of the group. They had chicken and eggs in some form every day. Several men got sick, and the box car was a mess upon reaching San Diego. Griffith’s LVT required some extra armor plate so it could not leave San Diego with the others. He later went on a new LSD (Landing Ship Dock), with no accompanying convoy. Twenty-four LVTs and a company of Marines were aboard for the lonely voyage across the Pacific. Fortunately, no Japanese submarines were sighted.
In what was the longest invasion voyage on record, Griffith’s ship went from San Diego directly to the island of Namur in the Marshall Islands. Griffith’s job was to take Marines from ship to shore on the LVT; then follow up with ammunition, food, and water. Griffith did not know where he was until the captain gave tactical information to the men before going in on their first run to shore. Most of the men Griffith carried into shore were killed within 100 yards of their landing position. It was gruesome, frightening and demoralizing work. It could not have been done without those tank-like treads which allowed the LVTs to go over the coral reefs.
On one trip to the beach Griffith picked a Marine out of the water who was cold, half naked and incoherent. Griffith gave him his outer clothes and took him to a hospital ship for care. That night he and his crew on the LVT were invited to spend the night aboard a Merchant Marine vessel anchored in the area. It was the first night with good food and in a good bed, in weeks. They were surprised in the middle of the night because the ship was moving. The captain told Griffith that he had a sudden order to return to Pearl Harbor. He could not put Griffith and his crew off because they would be killed by our own men if they tried to go ashore at night. So, off on a ten-day voyage to Pearl Harbor and a long explanation to authorities as to why they were there instead of Namur.
At this time Griffith was in Company C and when he returned found that the 10th Amphibian Tractor Battalion had been transferred to another island and Company A had accidentally been left behind. He joined Company A and became part of what is known as the “Lost Company”. The commanding officer of Company A found a ship going to Guadalcanal where the 10th Amphibian Battalion was supposed to be but he found they were not there. The 3rd Marine Division added Company A because they needed the LVTs, but it was not authorized. Company A was not on any payroll list, nor did it have a mailing address so mail could be delivered. No supplies or any support was available. The men had to get food and water and transportation from other units any way they could. Many men were suffering from jungle rot, dengue fever and malaria. It was a pitiful scene in the sick bay.
Griffith’s Company A went with the 3rd Marine Division to Guam for the July 1944 invasion. On Griffith’s run to the beach, he and others missed the spot they were headed for by about 600 feet. Twelve LVTs that hit the beach exactly where Griffith should have been, were blown out of the water. That mistake saved Griffith’s life as well as the other men in the LVT. He later had to go pick up the bodies of the men who were killed.
Particularly interesting to Griffith while on Guam there were the Navajo Code Talkers in his company. He occasionally heard them pass information by radio to headquarters in the Navajo language, which could not be interpreted by the Japanese. In Griffith’s opinion we would have lost the Pacific Island war without the Navajos.
The night after the invasion Griffith’s sergeant sat down next to Griffith and said, “I have been hard on you but I really like you and appreciate what you do”. That same night Griffith’s sergeant was shot and killed by a Marine guard because the sergeant did not remember his own password, he had given out to be used that day.
Griffith’s brother was in Saipan and had been on the battlefields with some officers checking the casualties. He stumbled upon a body with no dog tags or other ID but with the name on the fatigue jacket of L B Griffith. This was the body of the marine that Griffith had pulled from the water at Namur and to whom he had given his clothes. His brother assumed it was Bethel Griffith lying dead on the battlefield but was able to take leave and visit Griffith on Guam to be sure he was still alive. Griffith recalls a very happy meeting with his brother.
Guam was a dangerous island because there were so many Japanese soldiers still alive and infiltrating the Marine compounds at night looking for food. There were many Japanese shot by guards close to where Griffith lay sleeping. While on guard duty, Griffith had the same experience of seeing Japanese soldiers creeping in the tall grass surrounding the encampment. In one case a Japanese soldier entered Griffith’s tent and was shot just before attacking Griffith’s tent mate.
About this time Griffith had seen so much combat with accompanying stress that he was allowed to leave Guam and be returned to the US for rest prior to discharge from active duty. It has just been the past few years that Griffith has been able to put to rest some of the visions he has of what he did and saw during his combat duty. He feels he is fortunate to be alive and was saved for a purpose. His compassion for his fellow soldiers and marines is exemplified in his work over many years with Disabled American Veterans. He founded the service in Rockingham County to take veterans to the VA hospital for appointments, driving thousands of miles a year in this service.
Griffith was discharged in March 1945 returning to Rockingham County, working primarily in automobile and motorcycle sales. He was married to Francis (now deceased) in 1946 and has three daughters and one son. He continues to give unselfishly of his time to help fellow veterans in their hour of need.
Harden, Robert Allen
Engine trouble! Navigator Bob Harden did not want to hear those words while flying in a B 29 Superfortress over the Himalayan Mountains. Engine problems were all too common on these huge bombers. There was no choice; Harden and the rest of the crew had to bail out at 20,000 feet or perish in the skies over China.
It was a long journey to China from Harden’s Burke County, Georgia birthplace. His family moved to Birmingham AL when he was two and then to Greenville SC for Harden’s last two years of high school. After graduation from high school, he was accepted at Georgia Tech in an engineering program that allowed him to work a quarter and then attend school for a quarter. While Harden was in his third quarter at Georgia Tech the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. Harden wanted to fly and joined the Army Air Force pilot training program as soon as possible after the December 7 surprise attack.
He was called to active duty in January 1942 and assigned to Kelly Field in Texas for basic training. After basic training, he and his fellow enlistees were given aptitude tests and assigned to pilot, navigator, or bombardier training. Due to Harden’s math and science background, he was initially assigned to navigator training. Navigator classes were full so Harden was sent instead to bombardier school at Albuquerque NM. He received his commission as second lieutenant – bombardier in October 1942. At this point, Harden learned about the B 29 Superfortress destined to be the long-range bomber needed desperately in the Pacific due to the extreme distances between air bases and bombing targets. There was a “catch” though as bombardiers on B 29s also had to be trained as navigators.
Harden went on to navigator school at Hondo Air Base TX, graduating in June 1943. At Hondo Air Base, Harden practiced his navigation skills by flying between Hondo, Amarillo, and Big Springs Texas. As B 29s were not yet ready for deployment to the Pacific, Harden taught at bombardier and navigator schools for a time.
The development of the B 29 is called the “Battle of Kansas” due to the problems in developing this new bomber on a rush basis without the normal testing and modification of new equipment before deploying for combat. Engines were a weak point!
Finally, B 29s were available, and bomb groups were formed for Pacific duty. Harden was sent to Salinas KS assigned to the 58th Bomb Wing. The B 29 was just what was needed in the Pacific, but it was so complicated that a “Flight Engineer” position was created to handle the complex equipment.
Each of the new B 29s had two crews. One flew the bomber to an airbase near Calcutta – 11,500 miles away. The other crew, including Harden, went by navy ship, leaving March 10 and arriving April 4 in Calcutta. Distances were so great in Asia that four airfields had to be built in Chengdu, China as stopovers on the way to bomb Japan. Unfortunately, the Himalayan Mountains stood between the India base and the China base. The B 29s in India supplied the bases in China with fuel, bombs, and supplies to allow arming and refueling the B 29s before leaving on a bombing run to Japan. It took four six-hour one-way flights to China to support one bomb run to Japan. This was a perilous route called the “Aluminum Trail” due to the number of aircraft going down in the Himalayan Mountains. Flying at 25,000 feet in a pressurized aircraft allowed the B 29 to fly over most of the Himalayas – the hump. However, plane crews still looked up to the peak of Mount Everest.
In April 1944, Harden took his first flight over the “hump” on a supply run. He was substituting for a navigator on another crew. During the flight, an engine began to overheat and lose oil pressure. The pilot feathered the propeller, but the plane was heavy with gasoline and a spare engine that could not be manhandled to dump it out to reduce weight and perhaps allow the plane to make it to its destination.
This was Harden’s first experience bailing out of an aircraft. The Air Force did not practice bailing out at 20,000 feet as too many crew members were injured when they practiced. The aircraft was over northern India and Harden was concerned about the danger of wild animals. The crew went out the nose wheel hatch with one crewmember killed in the process. When Harden bailed out, he had supplies to help him survive including food rations, Indian and Chinese currency, a machete, 45 caliber pistol, poncho, first aid kit, compass, water purifying tablets and other helpful items.
Once safely down, they followed jungle trails and a river until they came upon some natives who recognized them as US airmen. The next day they reunited with the other crew members and were rescued by Army personnel who flew them back to the air base. A few days after returning to base, he left on his first bombing mission – the target – Sumatra oil refineries. It was one of the longest missions of the war, totaling about 20 hours over water, including one fuel stop. The plane flew 100 feet above water, as the plane was too heavy to climb to higher altitude because of the heavy fuel consumption required to do so. Due to cloud cover, Harden had to fly by dead reckoning, factoring in wind, course, speed, time and distance. Harden was right on target, and the mission was successful, catching the enemy by surprise.
Harden’s next mission was over the Himalayas to supply the China air base. The load was very heavy with gasoline, bombs, and supplies. The plane had a skeleton crew, was stripped of gun turrets and the bomb bays had auxiliary tanks filled with fuel. The B 29 flew over the Himalayas and arrived on the Chinese side of the mountains, but one engine started to overheat and lose oil. Too much oil escaped before the pilot could feather the propeller, so the propeller began wind milling with consequent loss of air speed and altitude.
Again, Harden and other crew members had to bail out from 20,000 feet. The tail gunner broke his leg in the process. The crew came down close enough so they could get together and plan their next move. A retired Chinese General – Ren-An Yang, who lived in the nearby small village of Fulin heard the noise of the plane coming down and sent some men to bring the crew to the village. Three or four days later, a rescue team came but only had room for three crewmembers in the rescue vehicle. The pilot, copilot and injured tail gunner were given priority to go back first to give details of the plane crash. It was monsoon season, and rain was constantly causing a delay of six weeks for a team to rescue the reminder of the crew. While the crewmembers were at Fulin in General Yang’s home, they became very friendly with the Chinese villagers, young and old, including Shu-Jon, the eight-year-old daughter of General Yang: more about her, later.
The rescue team took the crew to the China base and then flew them back to their India base. In the meantime, some of Harden’s other crewmembers not involved in the six-week delay were sent out on a tanker supply mission to China. They crashed in the Himalayas with all killed. With most of his crew gone, Harden substituted on another plane and completed several low altitude missions to Shanghai, mining the harbor, as well as bombing missions to Rangoon, Burma.
In late 1944, Harden’s 58th Bomb wing was transferred to Tinian in the Mariana Islands. This was within bombing range of Japan. Harden made 19 bombing runs to Japan out of Tinian. Several were high altitude daylight raids, but these were not effective. General Curtis LeMay changed the tactics to night saturation incendiary bombing. The object was to create firestorms and destroy the Japanese will to resist. The nighttime scene over the target was surreal with 500 or more planes in the air, searchlights with daggers of light in the sky and anti-aircraft shells exploding. These low-level missions had their own set of hazards of barrage balloons, antiaircraft flak, and suicide planes trying to crash into the B 29s. Many planes were lost with crews killed or captured. Every time Harden took off, he was concerned about his chances for survival. He was troubled by the firestorm of devastation created by the bombing; on the other hand, he knew if he went down and were captured, he had a very remote chance of survival.
A typical flight for Harden was leaving in the early evening, arriving over the target at night, and returning to Tinian in the morning. Many in the crew could sleep periodically on the way out and back but not the pilot, copilot or navigator. After the return was debriefing and then rest. In his off time after a mission, Harden sometimes listened to Tokyo Rose to enjoy the music, disregarding her propaganda. Harden says she knew a lot about his bomb group and its missions.
The Enola Gay and Bochs Car, the planes that dropped the bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, were on Tinian and kept separate from the rest of the B 29s. Harden learned of the dropping of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima after the fact. Several days after the bombs were dropped, Japan officially surrendered on September 2, 1945. It was October 10, 1945, when Harden received his discharge orders and flew back to the United States in his B 29.
Harden returned to Georgia Tech and earned an Engineering degree, marrying his sweetheart Jean, during his senior year. He worked briefly for B.F. Goodrich and in 1953 came to Fieldcrest Cannon where he rose to be Director of Engineering. Harden retired in 1983. He believes his four plus years of military discipline and service helped him succeed in later years. Harden and wife Jean have two daughters, two granddaughters and enjoy an active life in Eden.
As a postscript to Harden’s military experience, he received a letter from China on November 12, 2003. It was from Shu-Jon Yang, the daughter of General Yang who took care of the crew after they bailed out over Fulin, China August 26, 1944. Her letter says in part “…during the 1980s I had tried to find you but failed. Now 60 years have passed, but I can clearly remember everything happening in those days. When Mr. Liu brought me your address, I was overcome with strong emotion that I could not hold back my tears.” Harden had similar emotions when he received her letter and replied to her promptly. He has been in touch since. He hopes that Shu-Jon can someday visit him in Eden.
Groseclose William Preston
On joining the service: I did not want to be left out of action.
On the Navy food: I was lucky, I loved beans, and we had plenty of them.
On “chow” time: We had to eat fast and move out so the next group of sailors could eat.
On time at sea: For one stretch during the Pacific Island campaigns, we went 75 days
without being in port. We were steaming and shelling islands and picking up
pilots.
On his locker: We only had the clothes we were wearing and, in our locker, a set of the
clothes we were going to wear plus shaving gear and a picture of family. Too
little room!
On the heat: We frequently slept on deck for relief from stifling heat below deck.
On his job: I had to help keep the ship functioning electrically. Every hit the ship
took caused an electrical problem of some sort. We slept when we could.
Showers: Occasionally we were able to take freshwater showers. Fresh water was
precious. We could use all the salt water we wanted for showers.
In battle: There were hundreds of planes in the sky! At first, I wanted to watch
everything that was happening, but I had a job to do too.
In the typhoons: The most frightening moments of my life.
Reflecting on his service: I was glad to serve my country.
Bill Groseclose had experienced storms while on the Destroyer USS Brush but nothing to compare to the ferocious typhoon that struck on December 14, 1944. During the storm his ship rolled so violently that Groseclose literally stood on the bulkheads (walls) of his compartment and was concerned that each roll might go past the point of no return and the ship capsize. “The most frightening moments of my life,” says Groseclose. USS Brush was in imminent danger of capsizing, but the skillful handling of her skipper saved the ship and the lives of her crew. This is but one event in a three-year Navy experience that will live in Groseclose’ memory forever.
Groseclose was born in Pulaski Virginia in 1925 and after graduating from high school joined the US Navy in April of 1943 at the age of 17. Several of Groseclose’ friends had already joined, and he did not want to be left out of a shooting war. After enlisting, he was assigned to the University of North Carolina in the V12 program, which essentially was college training for potential officer personnel. Groseclose felt if he stayed in that program, he would not see active duty during the war, so he volunteered to enter Navy boot camp at Bainbridge, Maryland. Boot camp trained him generally for shipboard duty. After further training as an Electrician’s Mate, he reported to another destroyer for duty. However, the USS Brush, in process of being commissioned, needed this skill so he was transferred to the Brush in January 1944, where he stayed until April of 1946.
The Brush was commissioned for active duty with the fleet on April 17, 1944. Prophetically, during the commissioning ceremony, the new captain said “this ship will take you to Tokyo Bay”. After her shake-down cruise, 18-year-old Bill Groseclose went to war in the Pacific on the USS Brush. The Brush participated in every naval strike against Japanese held islands after she reported to Admiral Nimitz’s Pacific fleet command in mid-1944. The primary duties of the Brush were to shell the Japanese held islands during invasions, protect the aircraft carriers, and act as an airplane guard, picking up downed pilots. In many cases, the Brush had the sad experience of picking up pilots, dead in their life rafts.
Groseclose reported several kamikaze planes targeting the Brush, with one crashing just 50 feet away. The gun crew successfully shot down many attackers. Kamikazes heavily damaged and sank major ships; four Brush crewmembers died in Pacific combat.
On December 14, 1944, the first of what became known as “Halsey’s hurricanes” struck and while the Brush survived, three destroyers foundered or capsized, going down with all crewmembers. This was a tragic loss of over 900 men. Another typhoon struck on June 5, 1945, of such intensity that it took the bow off the USS Pittsburgh, a heavy cruiser, and like sardine cans, rolled back the flight decks of some aircraft carriers. The Brush later found the bow of the USS Pittsburgh floating in the water and it was retrieved.
On July 21, 1945, Groseclose participated in one of the most daring raids to take place in World War II. Destroyer Squadron 61 including the Brush, and eight other destroyers were detached from Admiral Halsey’s famous Task Force 38 to conduct anti shipping action against the Japanese inside Tokyo Bay. This was the first and only surface raid during WWII inside Tokyo Bay. The group of nine destroyers steamed behind the aftermath of a raging typhoon and at dusk, near the mouth of Tokyo Bay, began a 31-knot run into the bay. It was 11:30 PM when Brush’s radar showed four Japanese vessels close to shore and heading out to sea. The squadron maneuvered to attack, closing to 2500 yards. At midnight, the Brush fired two torpedoes, and the other ships fired two torpedoes. There were 18 torpedoes streaking toward the Japanese vessels. The Japanese had been under air attack earlier in the evening so when the torpedoes struck, the Japanese began firing their anti-aircraft guns at what they thought could only be aircraft. It did not occur to the Japanese defenders that The US Navy would be so audacious as to make a naval surface strike at the very doorstep of Japan. Two cargo ships were sunk, one heavily damaged and one patrol vessel badly damaged. There was no damage to the destroyers. The attack over, the destroyers made a high-speed run back to Task Force 38.
The Brush later returned to Tokyo Bay on September 14 after the signing of the official surrender documents on September 2. After an additional eight months on Brush, Groseclose was discharged and returned home and continued his education under the G.I. GI Bill, graduating from Hampden Sydney College. His career was in retailing and was, for many years, the manager of the Fieldcrest Mills Retail stores. Groseclose and his wife Ellen have three daughters and three grandchildren. He says his time in the Navy was well spent during a very historic and defining period in the 20th century. As expressed by so many other WWII veterans, Groseclose says he was proud to have served his country in her time of need.
Harris, Robert A.
In His Own Words:
Comment on first antisubmarine patrol off Key West: If we found a submarine, we were ordered to ram and sink it. This action would cause our ship to sink too.
On minesweeper duty: Typically, no ship goes in front of a minesweeper. We were very expendable.
On duty aboard a minesweeper: We were brown as berries. We didn’t wear shirts or ties. It was hard to tell an officer from an enlisted man.
On leading Marines to their landings at Iwo Jima: Our orders were to get them onto the beach at any cost.
On losses during the landing at Iwo Jima: Twelve landing craft following us were blown out of the water. All killed.
On food: I made sure my crew ate as well or better than any aircraft carrier or battleship crew. I was well overspent on food provisions but was never criticized for it! It kept the crew happy.
On the Atomic bomb: It saved my life. We didn’t have to invade Japan, with the projected loss or wounding of a million men in the invasion, not to mention the loss of Japanese lives.
The battle for Iwo Jima which began in February 1945 was one of the bloodiest fights in the South Pacific. Bob Harris was there on a minesweeper three days before the invasion, sweeping mines from the waters surrounding the island. During, and for ten days after the invasion, his ship acted as a guide ship for the Marines who were going into the beaches on landing craft.
This was a far distance from his birthplace in Arcola, NC on August 9, 1918. Harris attended schools in Warrenton and went on to what was then Campbell Junior college and then to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill for an accounting degree which was awarded to him in 1939. After a stint with US Steel in Birmingham, Alabama as a trainee, he volunteered for Officer Candidate School in the Navy rather than be drafted. Harris chose the Navy over the Army because he did not like to “hike” that much. After induction, he took a troop train to Notre Dame University where he began his training in basic military courses. Then, on to Columbia University in New York City for intensive training in gunnery, seamanship and shipboard engineering. Although Harris was an accounting major in college he came out with top grades in his class in engineering.
After graduation, he was transferred to St. Petersburg, Florida to set up a ship identification program for the Navy. From there he was transferred to Key West, Florida to the USS Mystic, patrolling the waters between Key West and Cuba looking for submarines. If a submarine were discovered, their orders were to ram and sink it, which would sink the USS Mystic as well.
While in Key West, Harris took a course on anti-submarine warfare and one of his friends and classmates was the well-known pianist, Eddie Duchin. He also spent time on old WWI submarines learning submarine tactics to help understand the evasive maneuvers of submarines.
In early 1943 he went to Beaumont, Texas to help commission a minesweeper, USS Pioneer. This ship was 230 feet long with a beam of 32 feet and a crew of 100 men. As with any ship being commissioned there was a long list of items to be accomplished to make it ready for duty.
After commissioning in mid-1943, the Pioneer was assigned to convoy duty in the Atlantic. The submarine menace was still strong at that time, and convoys would travel at night with lights out. This made the trip across the Atlantic precarious due to the possibility of collision with other ships during the night. The Pioneer was on the outer perimeter as interference for the main body of 100 or more ships making the crossing with men and material to fight the war. On the first trip across, the convoy had to turn and go well below the equator to avoid submarines. The convoy’s best defense was to outrun the submarines if they were sighted. Harris points out that minesweepers are responsible for finding and destroying mines, whether contact, magnetic, electric or acoustic. Finding contact mines was done by using paravanes attached to a long cable going out from one side of the minesweeper which would cut the mines loose from the cables holding them in place. Machine gun fire exploded them when they came to the surface.
In many cases, a minesweeper would go at maximum speed and the bow wake would push contact mines out of the way so gunners could explode them. The minesweeper also had an electric hammer making a loud banging noise which set off acoustic mines. A diesel electric generator on the minesweeper created a high voltage current in the water to set off electric and magnetic mines.
The ship Harris later commanded was wooden so it had a very low magnetic field which was not enough to set off magnetic mines. Magnetic mines were typically not used in shallower waters where the ship Harris later commanded would sweep mines.
After more training in mine warfare and anti-submarine tactics, Harris was transferred to Orange, Texas where the ship he was to command was being built. It was 136 feet long with a 25-foot beam and a crew of 32 men, including four officers. It had a 3-inch gun, several 30 caliber machine guns and a supply of 12 depth charges as well as paravanes for minesweeping. It had twin diesel engines and an identical diesel for generating electric impulses to set off electric and acoustic mines.
Harris took command in spring of 1944 and immediately went to sweep Boston harbor as well as around the Cape Cod area. About that time there was a huge storm on the East coast and a minesweeper on the way to the Pacific sunk off Cape Hatteras. Harris’ minesweeper was sent to replace it, leaving Boston in the fall of 1944. He went through the Panama Canal and on to Honolulu with a convoy. In December, he sailed with the largest convoy he had ever seen to Iwo Jima. The orders were sealed so no one knew where they were going until miles out to sea. On the way, the ship stopped at Eniwetok and Saipan to get fully outfitted.
Frequently the crew would listen to propagandist Tokyo Rose who was well informed as to ship movements. The crew enjoyed her music although she seemed to know too much for comfort.
The ship left Saipan and arrived at Iwo Jima on D Day minus three. There were about 600 ships in the water off Iwo Jima including USS North Carolina, other battleships and aircraft carriers. Harris’ job was to sweep mines in front of the landing beaches as well as around the island. Later, Harris’ ship was responsible, along with other small ships, to guide landing craft to the beach. His orders where to proceed and lead the landing craft to the beach “at all costs”.
Fortunately, Harris’ ship was not hit by enemy fire as the Japanese stopped firing so as not to reveal their positions and allow big guns of the USS North Carolina and other ships to destroy them. On one run to shore however 12 landing craft behind Harris were blown out of the water with all hands killed.
Harris could see the big shells from the USS North Carolina pass overhead with their deadly “swoosh” sound and explode on Mount Suribachi. The noise was deafening.
There were many kamikaze planes crashing into the Naval vessels, but they were after the big ships not Harris’ minesweeper. The biggest danger was crossfire. When the large ships fired at the kamikazes, they lowered the guns to sea level and took no notice of other ships that might be in the line of fire. Fortunately, Harris’ ship was not hit. After Iwo Jima, Harris’ ship went to the Philippines, Guam and Saipan in preparation for the invasion of Japan and awaiting further assignment. About then, victory was declared over Japan and Harris went to the Sasebo, Japan harbor to sweep mines so vessels could safely get into the harbor. While tied up to the pier in the Sasebo, Japan harbor during a hurricane, the lines holding Harris’ ship to the pier broke. Another ship with an admiral aboard contacted Harris’ ship with the message ” stay clear, we are having problems,” Harris replied, “what do you think we are having?” No further response was heard from the admiral.
Harris would have been released from active duty in August of 1945, but it took his relief almost three months to catch up to Harris’ ship due to a hectic sailing itinerary after hostilities ceased.
Harris was released from active duty on 12/1/1945 and after turning down US Steel’s reemployment offer, moved to Eden and had a very productive career with Fieldcrest Mills as well as being involved in major civic activities, retiring as Executive Vice President of Fieldcrest in 1977.
Hundley, H. Grey
Grey Hundley says “In 1940, it was a big world out there for me. I had never seen the ocean. I had hardly been out of Draper, NC and needed a steady job.” Hundley joined the US Navy in 1940 for 6 years and started an odyssey that took him halfway around the world. His service involved him in historic combat operations that changed the course of World War II in the Pacific theater.
From Hundley’s birthplace in Schoolfield VA, Hundley’s father took work in Leaksville, NC, during the depression. The family lived in the country in a log cabin constructed by Hundley’s father. Later the family moved to town on Boat Landing Rd. After Hundley’s father died in 1939, family finances were limited so Hundley had to find steady work. There being very limited employment opportunities locally, joining the US Navy appeared to be a way to get a steady job as well as good training that would help him after a return to civilian life. His brother, who was in the Army, said the Navy was a good option as your bed was always with you on ship and you did not have to sleep on the ground.
After joining the Navy in June 1940, Hundley was assigned to Norfolk, VA for basic training. After 12 weeks of marching, classroom instruction and calisthenics he was graduated from basic training and sent by crowded troop train to Long Beach CA for assignment to the battleship USS New Mexico. It was commanded by none other than Captain Chester Nimitz, later to be the Commander in Chief of the Pacific Fleet during World War II. Due to Hundley’s strength and physical condition, he was assigned as “first loader” on the 14-inch main battery on USS New Mexico. This required lifting 100-pound shells and putting them in the gun before firing. This job did not last long as there was an opening for ship’s bugler and having been a bugler for certain military events in Leaksville, his experience allowed him to get the assignment. Being bugler required Hundley to be able to play 136 different bugle calls, such as calls to go to battle stations, to prepare for torpedo defense, to prepare for air defense, a call for mealtime and, of course, reveille and taps. He did this by blowing the bugle call into the ship’s main microphone with the call sounding throughout the vessel. Because of the assignment as bugler, his station was on the ship’s bridge and was a great vantage point to see what was going on during ship operations.
USS New Mexico was sent to the Pacific and stationed at Pearl Harbor with her berth being the one USS Arizona was berthed in when Pearl Harbor was attacked. Had New Mexico been there on December 7th, Hundley wonders if she would be the ship at the present Pearl Harbor memorial site instead of USS Arizona.
In May 1941, New Mexico was sent back to the Atlantic on convoy duty, seven months before war was declared and on occasion, as he was stationed near the ship’s bridge, Hundley was in position to observe anti- submarine activity by our ships. During one convoy he participated in, seven German submarines were sunk. Sometimes the excitement ran so high, Hundley says his bugle calls during anti-submarine operations were recognizable but a little “uncertain.”
After Atlantic convoy duty, USS New Mexico was sent to Reykjavik, Iceland on more anti-submarine duty for a time. When Pearl Harbor was attacked on December 7th, New Mexico was in Portland, Maine and he heard the news over the ship’s loudspeaker. Hundley still does not understand how the Japanese made a successful sneak attack on Pearl Harbor considering the daily air patrols. As the New Mexico was an old battleship launched in 1917, she was sent to Norfolk, VA to be fitted with 20 mm. and 40 mm. anti-aircraft guns to improve air defense capabilities. After a brief stint as a training vessel for new recruits,
New Mexico was sent back to Pearl Harbor and the sight that greeted Hundley’s eyes was most disturbing. Many ships were still underwater with repair efforts going on and Hundley says “the Pearl Harbor base was still a mess” after the attack. On USS New Mexico, Hundley participated in the start of the island-hopping campaigns to retake the Pacific islands the Japanese had conquered, beginning with the island of Guadalcanal. During one battle near the island of Tarawa, battle stations were called and a torpedo headed for USS New Mexico missed and sunk a small aircraft carrier. When the torpedo struck the aircraft carrier, Hundley was drinking a cup of coffee, and it was knocked out of his hand and Hundley was thrown to the deck from the concussion. Two hundred men from the carrier were rescued by Hundley’s ship.
About this time in 1942, Hundley was promoted to the damage control department of USS New Mexico. His bugling days were over. This job consisted of maintaining the integrity of the vessel by containing damage or fires due to torpedo attacks, aircraft, etc. After his promotion and his position as leader of 12 men in his damage control section, he got the nickname of “Radar.” Hundley always seemed to know the location of any men that were “goofing off.” He did not tell them he knew because he had been there too, before his promotion.
It was difficult to transfer from New Mexico after his years aboard her but he was transferred for a short time to the military police unit guarding the WAVE (female Navy personnel) barracks in San Francisco. For many reasons, this was one of Hundley’s most interesting tours of duty.
In late 1943, Hundley was transferred to the newly built USS Guam, a Battle Cruiser, one of two built during the war. On one of Guam’s shakedown cruises Hundley came up with an idea which reduced the time it took to empty the fuel tank at the end of the day from the catapult float aircraft assigned to Guam. He was promoted from 2 nd Class Ship Fitter to 1st Class Ship Fitter immediately when his Chief Petty Officer learned of the improved procedure.
Hundley was on USS Guam when she was assigned to the Pacific to engage in more island-hopping campaigns. Guam was involved in heavy combat for months on end. In all, he earned seven battle stars for action in the Pacific. He endured Kamikaze (suicide) air strikes and torpedo attacks against his ship and in one period, went 60 days without seeing land. One of the most frightening events happened when a torpedo struck USS Guam right in line with Hundley below deck. He heard the clunk, and it did not go off. It was a “dud.” It dented the ship and had it exploded it would have taken Hundley’s life. Looking back, Hundley says “The Lord had other plans for me.”
Guam went to the Ulithi islands for some rest for the crew and while there the Atom bomb was dropped on Japan, and the war was over. While in the Ulithi area Hundley had the opportunity to see his brother who was on a hospital ship after being wounded. Guam was then assigned to do cleanup work on islands where Japanese were still fighting because they did not know the war was over.
Guam’s next assignment was to transport army and marine troops back to the US for
release from active duty. Some 1500 troops were aboard Guam at one time and bunks
were used 24 hours a day for sleeping. Three men were assigned to a bunk with eight
hours use of the bunk for each man. Many of the men had just been paid after several
months and an informal casino was set up on USS Guam in an obscure place, without permission but small fortunes were won and lost on the trip home. Guam was decommissioned and put in “mothballs” in early 1946 and Hundley oversaw some of that work. According to an historical note, USS Guam sold for scrap in 1961.
Hundley says, “I was frightened every time the ship’s guns went off as I knew we were under attack.” He says “I was very busy in my Navy career and didn’t have time to worry too much about what was going on around me. I just did my job.”
Hundley married in March 1946 to the former Alice Carroll of Leaksville and has one son and one daughter as well as several grandchildren. His career after his release from active duty was primarily in production with Karastan division of Fieldcrest Mills in Eden, NC.
Lashley, William D.
Okinawa was the last battle with Japan during World War II. During that battle, Bill Lashley often had to go undercover to avoid Japanese aircraft, which were strafing his position, as well as dodge projectiles from our Navy ships trying to shoot down those enemy planes. Okinawa was a deadly place and the crossfire was murderous.
After graduation from Leaksville high school in 1942, Lashley worked for a time at Belk’s as a salesperson. When drafted in May 1943, he expected to be in the Army but before induction, a Marine recruiter asked if he would like to become a Marine. Lashley liked that idea and volunteered for the marines.
There were long days and intensive training in boot camp at Parris Island. Lashley still has slightly chipped front teeth from bayonet and hand to hand combat training. It was impressive upon Lashley that there would be high casualties among his unit and to mentally prepare for that. Upon graduation, the drill sergeant told Lashley not to blame him, but Lashley was headed to Camp Lejeune to learn to be a radar specialist rather than become a rifleman. That change in assignment may have saved Lashley’s life. Radar was relatively new to the marines, as the Navy had done all radar work for the marines. Due to heavy enemy bombing and kamikaze (suicide) attacks expected, better radar coverage was needed from ashore as we attacked and occupied the Japanese outlying islands. The Navy would handle shipboard radar, but the marines would handle radar ashore for the Navy.
Lashley took a course on Electricity and Magnetism as well as one on Marine Corps history and general information; passed them and was promptly promoted to Staff Sergeant. Shortly after, with additional training, he was named the first marine radar instructor at Camp Lejeune. After several months as a radar instructor, word came down from Marine Corps HQ; there were two kinds of marines, those overseas, and those about to go overseas. In December 1944, Lashley became one of the marines “about to go overseas”. Before going overseas however, Lashley went to Washington DC for a short time and reported to the Naval Proving Grounds command. Inside a large building on the grounds was a complete three-dimensional model of the island of Okinawa. Lashley’s job was to help determine the most effective locations to place radar installations to maximize coverage of aircraft activity and minimize ground interference. That training served him well on Okinawa.
Lashley had the opportunity to pass in review with his unit in front of President Roosevelt before leaving for overseas from Norfolk, VA. His troop ship “The Florence Nightingale” went through the Panama Canal on the way to the Far East. The heat was stifling aboard ship and there was little fresh water for showers. The sailors rigged up some water lines to bring up seawater for the marines to shower on deck and give some relief from the intense heat.
The troop ship offloaded at Guam, which was the staging area for the invasion. While there, everyone had to turn in their money for safekeeping. One marine had so much money that he was going to be brought before courts-martial (be prosecuted) and punished for thievery. To avoid the courts-martial the marine had to obtain written proof from all the men he had won money from to justify the large gambling winnings he had in his possession.
Before the invasion, Lashley’s Battalion commander stressed to his men that many would die on Okinawa, but a marine is never to shame another marine that has been killed in action by not giving 100% effort. The legacy of the dead lived on through each marine who was alive and fighting. Lashley was trained so well, he states, “My greatest fear was not the enemy but that I would not live up to the high standards of the Marine Corps”.
When he arrived and went ashore on Easter Sunday 1945, as part of the invasion force on Okinawa, he set up his radar equipment at a site called Bolo Point: one of many sites on the island. This location gave excellent radar coverage including Yontan airport a few miles away. The main fight was going on to the north and south of Bolo Point. All around Lashley’s station were dead Japanese soldiers. The radar stations had to be on duty 24 hours a day because the Japanese planes were flying 24 hours a day. Reports were made to the Navy for coordination purposes. Lashley says that the Army, Marines, and Navy all cooperated very well in radar work. His station was very close to the battle lines, and the noise was deafening. There were 1300 ships offshore and the 18 battle ships were firing salvos from their 16-inch guns 24 hours a day. Forty aircraft carriers were in operation around the clock. The Navy guns were aimed so low in the attempt to hit strafing Japanese planes that Lashley and his men feared for their lives from friendly fire.
There were three types of radar used by the marines on Okinawa. 1) Large vans with parabola radar units on top, which were used to coordinate anti-aircraft guns. 2) Air search units, which identified aircraft as friend or foe based on transmissions from the planes. This unit was used to guide the anti-aircraft units in whether to shoot, or not, at a plane that could not otherwise be identified. 3) Radar units, which were coordinated with searchlights to shine on aircraft so any anti-aircraft guns could visually fire more accurately. The anti-aircraft shells used had proximity fuses, which caused the shell to explode when in proximity to the enemy aircraft.
The Japanese also used transport aircraft full of suicide troops to crash land near the airport, exit the transport, and run with satchels containing explosives to blow up planes on the Yontan airfield. This was a similar concept to the Japanese suicide pilots used extensively and effectively against Navy ships during the Okinawa campaign.
Tokyo Rose was on the radio from Japan trying to undermine morale among the troops. She knew which units were in Okinawa and was very well informed. Lashley said he heard her on the radio, and she had no effect on morale at all, but they enjoyed her music. The first time he heard the 1945 hit song, “It’s only a paper moon” was on Tokyo Rose’s program.
One afternoon, word was received that the Japanese were going to counterattack and attempt to capture the airfield. The Japanese usually attacked at night, so Lashley and his men spent a very nervous night, expecting the Japanese to eventually attack his position. The night was a little windy and the tall grass was waving in front of Lashley’s position. There was a strange sound and movement in front of the position. Lashley’s men were tempted to fire a few rounds at the noise to see the reaction. However, their orders were not to fire unless the target could absolutely be identified. As the sound came closer, it was identified as a piece of aluminum from a wrecked airplane blown by the wind on top of the grass and making noise as it came toward the radar position.
While battle was going on, food was in short supply except for the basic K-rations, which were not very tasty. Because of the many souvenirs available to the marines, such as Japanese flags, guns etc., souvenirs were traded for better food with Navy commissary men who came ashore from time to time.
On one occasion Lashley went to get mail at the Yontan airport and had to walk past some tunnels which most thought was empty of Japanese troops. As he approached the tunnels, an officer, only half-jokingly, informed Lashley that he could be a useful “decoy” to bring out the Japanese from the tunnels but not to come this way again if he valued his life. Normally, the only way to get the Japanese out of the tunnels, or to kill them, was by use of flamethrowers or satchel bags of explosives dropped down what were called the “spider holes”.
The Okinawa people had been brainwashed to believe US troops would kill them on sight. This caused many Okinawa people to help the Japanese. Of course, this perception was changed when the people had an opportunity to interact with our troops. The campaign to capture Okinawa was over on June 22, 1945, being the last battle of World War II. This battle was the largest in terms of number of ships lost and casualties in the Pacific war. Over 250,000 people lost their lives in the 82-day campaign. Among the dead were about 150,000 Okinawa civilians. In defeat, about 100,000 Japanese troops died, many of them trapped in caves in the hills or by committing suicide rather than lose “face” by being captured. United States loss of life was staggering as well. The Navy lost 36 ships with an additional 368 being damaged, more ships than in any prior battle in the Pacific. We lost almost 8,000 men with 30,000 more wounded.
After Okinawa was secured, Lashley’s unit was pulled together with other units to develop a combined action against the mainland of Japan. Fortunately, the atomic bombs were dropped and thus eliminated the need for an invasion of Japan. Lashley said his joy over the announcement of the surrender of Japan “defies description. We were victorious and my life was spared.”
Lashley was a military policeman on Okinawa until March 1946. He returned to the US and was released from active duty in May 1946. On the way home however, the ship he was on had a mechanical problem, which delayed his return for about five weeks. Upon arrival at San Diego, a marine came down with Typhus, so debarkation was delayed another week. After a long train ride to Camp Lejeune, he was finally released from active duty.
Lashley says he is proud to be a marine but never saw any glamour in war. He is just glad he survived a very important time in our nation’s history and was able to contribute to our victory. Lashley continued his education and ultimately returned to Leaksville to enter the retail business. He retired after operating Lashley’s clothing store on Washington Street in Leaksville for many years. He is married to the former Mary Noel Foley and they have two married daughters, Debra and Lisa as well as one grandson, Matthew.
Lewis, Margaret Hinson
Margaret Lewis learned about the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor while riding in her family car to Virginia to buy some apples. The news frightened her as well as angered her. She became determined to join the Armed Forces and fight the enemy although she was only 16 years old at the time. Even at that young age, Lewis was very patriotic. So much so that she managed to have her birth certificate changed to show her being born one year earlier than she was born. In April 1942 when her altered birth certificate showed her as 18 years of age, she attempted to join the Navy. The Navy recruiter checked the records carefully and found she was only 17. At that time, a woman between 18 and 21 needed parental approval to join, which Lewis, of course, did not have. To her dismay, she was rejected on both counts, but more determined than ever to join the service and fight for her country.
Lewis’ family moved from Guilford County to Reidsville when she was two years old. Her father was a lumber dealer and after the war started, he worked long hours because there was a huge demand for his products. Lewis continued in High School, graduating in June 1943. She went to work for a time and then in April 1944, over her mother’s objections but with her father’s approval, joined the Women’s Army Corps.
In a few weeks, she was called to active duty and sent to Fort Oglethorpe, GA for six weeks of basic training. Lewis was the only one from the south in her group. As part of the indoctrination process, the sergeant asked Lewis for her nationality. Lewis answered “American” which caused some laughter from the group of “sophisticated” northerners but was a response from her heart.
Life at Fort Oglethorpe grueling with exercise and close order drill every day except Sunday. She watched training films, attended classes, cleaned barracks, and stacked her clothes according to regulation, in her small locker. Lewis liked the food and ate plenty, although she did not gain a pound. She slept well because she was exhausted at the end of each day. Weekends were a relief after the rigorous training during the week.
All the women were asked which duty they would like upon graduation. Lewis said she felt physically fit after all her training and wanted to be a Military Policewoman with an east coast assignment, close to Reidsville if possible. In typical Army fashion, she received an assignment to Fort Winfield Scott near San Francisco, far from what she requested. Now, she was homesick and on her way to California. This compounded her feelings.
Homesickness was soon over after she started to enjoy the activity on the west coast. She met the famous movie leading man, Victor Mature, at the USO in Los Angeles as well as other Hollywood greats, male and female. After a few days in LA, she rode the train to San Francisco and on to Fort Scott. She still did not know for sure what she would be doing. Upon arrival, she was assigned to the motor pool as a driver although she had never driven a vehicle. She took some brief lessons in driving and was promptly sent in a truck on a trip across San Francisco to Fort Baker, delivering supplies.
After some months, Lewis wanted to take some leave to visit Reidsville. The tough female first sergeant said no but with a few tears from Lewis, the sergeant approved leave. On the train trip home, the cars were full and if you had a seat, you could not leave it to eat or visit the rest room, or you would lose it. She stood a good part of the way home.
Upon return from leave, in her adventuresome way, she volunteered for duty in India. She got her wish for a transfer but was sent to Europe – the Army at work again. She first went to overseas training in Des Moines IA to learn about customs, history, and general deportment in a foreign country. After her training, she was sent to New York to board a Victory Ship (small transport ship built by the thousands during the war). Her top bunkmate was sick all the way to Le Havre, France. The ship captain would not allow Lewis to change bunks. The war in Europe was over about this time in May 1945, and it was a time for rejoicing about the victory.
Upon arrival at Le Havre, Lewis learned she would be driving trucks to Russia. While in Paris for several days with no duties, Lewis saw the sights and got to know some French people. It was disturbing to her to see the devastation and poverty induced by the war and the obviously poor nutrition of the people she met.
The Russian truck delivery was called off for some reason and she was sent to work in the message center at SHAEF (Supreme HQ Allied Expeditionary Force) in Frankfort, Germany. There, she frequently observed General Eisenhower and occasionally, General Patton and other high-profile officers of WWII. It was routine then but now she is in awe of the historic people that came to the office to see General Eisenhower. Eisenhower’s wonderful smile is one thing Lewis remembers, as well as the fact that he was so well liked and respected by all the staff at SHAEF. Lewis had two German women working for her in the message center and she grew to know and like them.
After several months, Lewis was transferred to Hoechst, Germany. About this time, the Army was starting women’s basketball competition in Germany to give the women something to do in their spare time. Lewis, having been a basketball player in high school, was asked to help start the program in her area after some training in Nice, France. She flew to Nice and during the flight, the pilot became disoriented in the French Alps and told the passengers his predicament. He asked for help from anyone aboard the plane who was a pilot – a frightening time for Lewis that had a satisfactory ending.
A transfer to Berlin to the message center stopped her basketball endeavor. When Lewis arrived in Berlin, she cried at the devastation she saw. On the other hand, she was surprised at the comparatively healthy appearance of the German people she met – much different from the French. She saw the Reichstag where Hitler gave his fiery speeches as well as other sights in Berlin. She lived in a private home, and the mess hall was a few blocks away. She would see beggars asking for food and although it was against regulations, she and others would carry some food out for the beggars, especially children.
The Russian male and female soldiers were friendly, and many spoke English. They would invite the WACS as a group to the opera in the Russian sector. Lewis enjoyed the dancing and music of the Russian operas although she could not understand one word. The female Russians were amazed at the way our women lived and were dressed. The Russian women were dressed in very rough, simple uniforms and had no undergarments such as our women had.
The “Black Market” astounded Lewis. A person could obtain almost anything desired in the black market, including family heirlooms, in exchange for cigarettes, food, clothing, and other items of value.
As the fall approached in 1945, Lewis received approval for a short leave to England for rest and recreation. She had saved some money and called Reidsville for three minutes, which cost $25 dollars. When the call finally went through her mother started crying which made Lewis cry and the entire three minutes was spent crying with little talking.
In April 1946, Lewis was released from duty and sent home. It was a bittersweet time as she had learned to enjoy her time in Europe with all the sights and activity she had been exposed to. She was discharged at Fort Bragg on April 26, 1946. Lewis’ travels did not stop there though. She found work in San Francisco in the War Assets Administration selling much of the war equipment that was now surplus to our military needs.
After a time back in Reidsville she took a Civil Service job on Okinawa where she met her husband to be, John, who was an officer in the Air Force. They married in 1951, and she became a military wife traveling the world until John’s retirement in 1967. She, and her late husband, John, lived in Reidsville since that time – John eventually retiring again in 1985, from Chase Bag Co.
Lewis now spends time with her three daughters and two sons, as well as longtime friends in Reidsville. She has one granddaughter, three grandsons, and one great-granddaughter.
Travel is still in her blood, and she travels when she can. Lewis says during her time in the service and as a military wife, she became very aware of how fortunate we are to live in America. We need to be more thankful for the freedom we enjoy and be aware of the cost and obligation to defend that freedom.
McGlohon, John A.
This reconnaissance mission was like any other mission. The B-29 Super Fortress crew got up in the wee hours of the morning to get ready for the 15-hour round trip flight to Japan to take reconnaissance photos. John McGlohon was the photographer and had his cameras ready and a full load of film canisters. However, this day, August 6, 1945, was different as it marked the beginning of the age of atomic warfare and McGlohon and the crew of his aircraft Shutterbug was to be an accidental eyewitness to history.
John McGlohon has lived in Asheboro virtually all his life. He attended local schools and graduated from high school in 1940 at age 16. After graduation, he worked for a time at Rose’s Dept Store and left for a higher paying job at Sun Spun Chenille Co. There was not much going on in Asheboro, and he knew he did not want to work in the mill much longer. The draft was just getting started but few men from Asheboro had been called. On June 3, 1941, his 18th birthday, he joined the Army Air Corps to see something beyond Asheboro. He wanted to be a parachute rigger.
On June 10, 1941, McGlohon was on his way to Charlotte to be sworn into the Air Corps. Later that same day, he went from Charlotte by train to Maxwell Field AL, arriving at two a.m. the next morning. He was assigned to an empty hanger with only one cot in it, his own. By the end of June 1941, the hanger was full of new recruits. There was not much to do yet, so his days were filled with sweeping streets, digging ditches, KP duty, marching and general orientation to the Air Corps.
McGlohon learned a photo squadron was being formed at the base and he volunteered. When asked what he could do, McGlohon replied, “I can type”, His first job in the Air Corps was as a typist with the 3rd Photo Mapping Squadron in September 1941. McGlohon had become very interested in photography in earlier years. He hung around the squadron photo lab so much it was clear he had an interest in that line of work. He was put in charge of developing and copying photos for the squadron.
War was heating up in Europe, and he was aware of increased activity on his base. In November, his unit was moved to a textile mill in Montgomery AL to provide more space for operations. Four weeks later, on December 7, 1941, Pearl Harbor was bombed. McGlohon has been a regular attendee of church since his youth. He was attending church that day and went to a movie afterwards. In the middle of the movie, the lights were turned on and all military personnel were told to return to their duty stations. When he arrived back at his base, he was told to get rid of his civilian clothes and wear only his Air Corps uniform. His squadron was sent briefly to Tampa FL and then assigned to Recife, Brazil. The first plane in his squadron, with the Commanding Officer aboard, crashed on takeoff to Recife and all were killed. This delayed the beginning of the project for a few months.
The plan was to map the east coast of South America. Our aircraft going to Europe would leave from South America when the route to destination was shorter. Our pilots needed good maps to make the flights over South America safer. Three cameras were mounted in the photo planes, one pointing vertically down and two at 45-degree angles, one to the left and one to the right. With overlapping exposures, the cameras would give 100% coverage from horizon to horizon. Each camera weighed about 50 pounds and carried film 9 ½ inches wide and 500 feet long in each of the many canisters on board the plane.
One time, a photographer got sick and asked McGlohon to fly for him. From that time on McGlohon started to fly regularly. The 3rd Photo Mapping Squadron operated almost independently with little support from anyone in the area. The crew scrounged for food and water and felt as though they were orphans. It was known there were German spies in their area and that made the mapping work even less comfortable.
One night a message came in asking the sizes of the crew for arctic clothing. That seemed unbelievable since they were in sweltering heat in South America. Soon, orders were received to go to Alaska and western Canada to map the area in advance of our invasion of the Aleutian Islands to rid it of Japanese troops. The crews were assigned B-25 Mitchell bombers fitted for photo mapping. The weather was very cold, foggy and uncomfortable. Volcanic ash pitted the propellers so badly they had to be refurbished every three missions. The Japanese abandoned the Aleutians, and an invasion was not necessary.
McGlohon’s squadron was transferred from Alaska back to the states and then on to the China-Burma-India (CBI) Theater in late 1943 to map the Himalayas. The squadron was now flying four engine B-24 Liberator bombers fitted for photo mapping. Upon landing at stopping points, they slept under the planes in hammocks. One night in India, a cobra was discovered, poised ready to strike a sleeping crewmember. The cobra was seen just in time and killed. During the mapping of the Himalayas, McGlohon was in the forward gun turret helping the pilot avoid mountains. On the outward portion of the flight, the plane had to fly low because it was heavy with gasoline. On the way back, the plane was lighter, and they could fly over most of the mountains and get good pictures. About this time, McGlohon caught malaria and was out of action for several days. He recovered and shortly after, his squadron was transferred back to McDill Air Base FL.
McGlohon got leave to go home for a few days. While home, he suffered a malaria relapse and was delayed in returning to McDill. When he got to McDill some days later his squadron had been transferred to Salinas, Kansas and was to be given a brand-new B-29 Super Fortress reconfigured as an F-13 photo recon aircraft. The plane was named Shutterbug by the crew.
It was the sixth one produced by Boing. This long-range aircraft was needed to fly extreme distances in the Pacific. McGlohon flew to Salinas and arrived before his crew did by train. As a side note, one of McGlohon’s fellow crewmembers was “Stocky” Stockdale. The navigator was Lt. Mac Hyman who later wrote “No Time for Sergeants” which was made into a movie starring Andy Griffith. Griffith’s role was based on crewmember Stockdale.
About this time, McGlohon’s brother, a pilot in the European Theater, was killed in action. McGlohon returned home for the funeral and upon return, his squadron was transferred from Salinas to India for mapping of the Burma and Lido roads through the Himalayas. In the spring of 1945, his squadron was transferred to Guam to fly mapping missions to Japan, Korea and western Russia, preceding a planned invasion of Japan by Allied Forces.
Departure for these long-distance flights was usually at 3 a.m. and arrival over target at daybreak. On some of the 15-hour recon flights, his aircraft faced enemy fighters and much anti-aircraft flak. It was common to patch holes in his B-29’s fuselage. Japan was running out of gas for its war effort, so enemy fighter aircraft were not faced very often. On another occasion while flying through the clouds, McGlohon’s plane nearly collided with a Japanese bomber. The crew could alternate by taking naps on the long, tiring flights. Typically, the recon flight would go in advance of a bombing mission to help pick targets, or after the mission to assess damage. The plane would just skim the water to avoid enemy radars until climbing to altitude for taking pictures.
The flight on August 6, 1945, started routinely. Of course, there was no knowledge of the momentous event that was to take place that day. On August 6 – at 8:16 a.m. – McGlohon’s plane was headed toward Hiroshima, Japan and as Shutterbug crossed the coast of Japan, the crew was surprised by something akin to a million flashbulbs going off at one time and all crewmembers were momentarily blinded. Shortly after the blast, they noticed another B-29 going past, presumably headed to Tinian. McGlohon thought to himself, “Wow, that bomber must have hit a huge fuel or ammo dump right on the button.” They later learned the mystery bomber was the “Enola Gay”. The combined speed of the planes was about 600 miles an hour, so they were approaching each other rapidly. As McGlohon’s plane continued to Hiroshima, McGlohon turned on his cameras and recorded the “hit” for the mystery B-29 and Shutterbug continued its photo mission to northern Japan.
Upon arrival back at Guam, officials heard about McGlohon’s plane and its experience earlier that day. Two marine sentries were at the photo labs as the truckload of film was delivered from McGlohon’s plane. Shutterbug was isolated at one end of the field and checked for radiation. There was none! McGlohon saw some of his pictures, which were already stamped “top secret”. McGlohon’s pictures were flown to Tinian where the Enola Gay, the plane that dropped the bomb, was stationed and then on to the United States for evaluation. He did not see any of the pictures again for about 50 years because of the top-secret classification. The former photo lab chief on Guam, gave him a copy at a squadron reunion in 1995.
With the quick release of service members after surrender documents were signed on September 2, 1945, McGlohon was sent to the US for discharge. After a flight across the ocean and a seven-day train ride, McGlohon was discharged at Fort Bragg. He was home that same night, October 6, 1945, for dinner with his surprised mother and dad.
McGlohon feels strongly that the atomic bomb ended a war that could have gone on with untold loss of life. As horrific as the bomb was, in McGlohon’s opinion the consequences of not dropping it would have been much worse. He has vivid memories of August 6, 1945.
McGlohon’s primary occupation after the war was as fire chief in Asheboro for 25 years. He also has been elected as city council member in Asheboro where he lives with his wife, Jane. They have two sons, two grandchildren and five great grandchildren. John McGlohon is one of the very few eyewitnesses to the atomic bomb explosion over Hiroshima.
Monsees, John Hilton
In action over Germany
“Everything happened so fast that you didn’t have time to think”
On approaching a bombing target
“You could see this big black thunderstorm ahead only it wasn’t a thunderstorm,
It was flak as far as you could see and we were heading right into it. We prayed a lot”
On losing an engine over Germany
“We threw overboard everything we could except our parachutes, in order to stay in the air”
On Axis Sally – German radio propaganda personality
“She knew who we were, where we had been and how many losses we took before we knew”
On loss of plane in the squadron
“Planes alongside me with my buddies inside just disintegrated in midair”
On his time in the Army Air Corps
”I am proud to have served, and I would do it again – right now!”
John Hilton Monsees was born and raised in Reidsville, NC but lost both parents before WWII and lived with his sister Hazel Fitz until entering the service. While in the 12th grade in November 1942, many of his friends were being drafted and Monsees enlisted in the Army Air Corps rather than wait for the draft to call him into the Army.
He reported to duty at Fort Bragg 2 days after enlisting. After 2 weeks of indoctrination at Ft. Bragg, he was sent to Keesler Field in Mississippi for basic training. The Master Sgt in charge (a good friend of the family) was from Rural Hall NC and intended to spare Monsees some of the indignities trainees usually endure. However, he spent 13 days peeling potatoes and washing pots and pans which was worse than the training he missed. At Keesler Field, Monsees spent 6 months in basic training as well as intense training in aircraft mechanic training and aircraft maintenance. This included 7 am to 5 pm in class during the week and on Saturdays for inspections.
In mid-1943, Monsees was transferred to Laredo, Texas for intensive gunnery training. As part of this training an aircraft would tow a target sleeve and Monsees, in another aircraft, would shoot at the target sleeve with a 30-caliber machine gun. Bullets were marked with paint that would come off when the sleeve was hit so the accuracy of each gunner could be determined by examining the target sleeve.
After gunnery training Monsees was transferred by train to Salt Lake City. This was a 5-day trip with only hard seats to sleep on and one bathroom for 100 men in each railroad car. Salt Lake City was a replacement depot and a stopping point before being assigned to Clovis, NM for transition school which was to prepare for assignment with a bomb group overseas. Monsees was assigned as a flight engineer. His duties were to stand behind the pilot and co-pilot to maintain, repair equipment or replace if possible, or do anything to keep the plane airworthy. This included watching gauges, transferring gasoline from tank to tank as necessary, keeping the four engines in synchronization, and generally keeping the aircraft in flying condition.
At Clovis, air crews were formed for overseas assignments and Monsees chose to volunteer for the crew of Lt. Joe MacAlister’s plane. MacAlister is the toughest man Monsee has ever known. He was accepted as Flight engineer and his job at that point was to choose the remainder of the enlisted air crew. He was 19 years old at the time.
From September 1943 to December 1943 he was assigned to Charleston, SC for overseas crew training and then back to Clovis and on to Mitchell Field Long Island where his crew and others were given brand new, combat equipped, B 24 Heavy Bombers. While at Mitchell Field, more training ensued with close formation flying and simulated bombing runs on 50-gallon steel drums in the ocean. On 12/18/1943 his crew left Mitchell Field and except for the pilot and navigator, had no idea where they were going. Morrison Field, Fl was the destination. After 2 days at Morrison Field, on 12/20/1943 the crew left for Trinidad and then in Brazil. While in Brazil one of the crewmen lamented “I miss America already”. Thus, was born the name of their B 24 – Miss America ’44. A Varga girl graced the nose of the B 24 above the name “Miss America ‘44”. At exactly midnight on 12/31/1943, the crew of Miss America ’44 left to cross the Atlantic Ocean bound for North Africa.
A heavy storm was encountered on the way and along with low fuel, caused a Mayday call to be sent. A British Air base responded and fortunately, it was close to Miss America 44’s location. The ceiling was about 200 feet and after a frightening approach and landing, Miss America “44 was safe on the ground. As this was a small fighter base, the wings of the giant bomber barely cleared the fighters parked near the runway. The crew was met by British machine guns until identification was verified.
The aircraft and crew went on to Algiers for 4 weeks close formation flying and then to San Giovanni, Italy. Twenty-five allied air bases were within 50 miles of San Giovanni.
Hilton Monsees flew 50 combat missions from that base during the next 8 months. Before each mission, he wrote a letter home, believing it might be the last correspondence he would ever send.
On a typical bombing mission day, he would get up at 3 am to a wakeup call from his pilot. There was no hot water, so a cold-water shave followed the wake-up call. Oxygen masks are very close fitting, so a shave was necessary each flying day to avoid any loss of oxygen due to seepage around the face mask. These masks were required on all missions because of the high-altitude operations. He ate a breakfast of powdered eggs, toast, marmalade and grits. After breakfast he went to the briefing room where a map was displayed showing the weather, route to and from the target, pockets of anti-aircraft artillery and enemy fighter air bases which could cause trouble enroute.
Pre-fight checking of the bomber was followed by last minute comments from the ground crew chief on anything of significance regarding the aircraft. Squadrons lined up and when the flare from the control tower was fired, take off started and bomber formations began forming in the sky. Typical targets were ball bearing plants, tank manufacturing locations and rail marshalling yards. Two bombing runs to Rumanian oil fields were included in the 50 missions Hilton flew.
German fighters usually attacked the formation about 2 hours after leaving the base and continued intermittently until 2 hours before arriving back at the base. On the bomb run itself, the German fighters held back because they did not want to be destroyed by their own anti-aircraft fire. Many aircraft were lost due to enemy fighters or anti-aircraft fire. Most of the bombing missions Hilton flew were unescorted by our fighters due to endurance limits of the fighters. This improved later when the fighters were able to use droppable gas tanks.
Upon returning to the base, the crew was debriefed concerning number and type of enemy aircraft met, anti-aircraft fire concentration points, weather encountered and any aircraft lost. Except for one man injured by flak, several engines shot out and hundreds of bullet holes in Miss America ’44, the crew was unscathed after 50 missions.
On 9/3/1944, Hilton embarked back to the states on a Liberty ship which also held 700 German POWs. After turning down an offer to “enjoy” a B 29 bomber assignment in the Pacific, Hilton spent the remainder of his time in the service in Denver, Colorado, teaching aircraft maintenance to air crewmen. While in Denver he finished his High School requirements which were transferred to Reidsville in time for him to graduate with the Reidsville High School class of 1946.
Hilton Monsees later became Fire Chief of the City of Reidsville, retiring in 1984.
He is married to the former Juanita Talley. They have one daughter Lynn, married to Ray Carter. They have one grandson, Nolan Monsees Carter.
Morgan, Robert K.
Colonel Robert K. Morgan, pilot of the famed World War II bomber Memphis Belle, celebrated his 85th birthday in 2003 in Asheville, North Carolina, his hometown. Morgan is a charismatic individual and a personification of the thousands of crew members who fought in the air during that long ago war. His aircraft, Memphis Belle, was the first bomber to complete 25 missions in Europe when 80% of bomber crews did not complete 25 missions because they were shot down or otherwise lost. Morgan was not born to be a pilot although he was a good one, and he still flies. He was a fun-loving college student at the University of Pennsylvania in 1940 when he realized our country was headed for war and he wanted to get into the service. Morgan states, “I didn’t like to walk, and I couldn’t swim well so that left the Air Corps by default.”
Morgan entered active Air Corps service in February of 1941. His first training was at Camden, South Carolina where his instructor took him up in a PT-17 trainer plane for a series of snap rolls, spins and enough acrobatics that Morgan wondered whether he was in the right branch of service. Even so, Morgan soloed in less time than usual – six- and one-half hours. On one training mission, Morgan succumbed to the temptation to buzz the row of trainer aircraft lined up on the field. This resulted in a serious threat from his commanding officer to eliminate him from the flight-training program. This was the first of several devilish stunts he did.
At one of his next training stations, he was allowed to choose which he wanted, fighters or bombers. He surprised all his boyhood friends by choosing bombers. Driving his father’s car at high speeds through the mountains near Asheville, in their minds, qualified him as a fighter pilot. As Morgan states, “I chose bombers because I liked company in the air, and I would have a navigator to get me home.” Morgan graduated from basic flight training in early 1942 and was sent to McDill Field to train for multi engine aircraft. There were no four-engine bombers at McDill, only the twin engine Lockheed Hudson. His time was spent patrolling the Gulf of Mexico looking for submarines. One day on a boring patrol mission, Morgan noticed a party going on at St. Petersburg Beach. Going down for a close look, and again for an even closer look, was a mistake. The next day the commanding general called Morgan in for a conference and asked if he had been flying a Lockheed Hudson and had buzzed the cocktail party the general had attended. Morgan replied, “Yes sir!” and General Olds told Morgan he should eliminate him from flight training but since the government had $30,000 invested in him, he would not recommend that. Instead, General Olds said, “If I have anything to do with it, you will be the oldest second lieutenant in the Army Air Corps.” That almost happened!
Morgan was originally destined for Africa on a B-24 heavy bomber but orders were changed, and he stayed at McDill for training in B-17s. Morgan says the B-17 was the most beautiful airplane he had ever seen. On one of his training flights, he was over Asheville, North Carolina and while his instructions were not to land during the training flight, the thought of showing this beautiful airplane to some of his friends in Asheville was too much to resist. He landed on the short runway and burned out his brakes. A call to his squadron commander resulted in repairs being made but another black mark on the Morgan record. Two weeks later the squadron was flying to Walla Walla, Washington to continue training in B-17s. As punishment for the brake replacement caused by the unauthorized landing in Asheville two weeks earlier, Morgan had the “privilege” of riding an overcrowded troop train to Walla Walla. While in Walla Walla, he met the sister-in-law of the flight surgeon of the squadron, a beauty from Memphis Tennessee named Margaret Polk – the real Memphis Belle. A romance blossomed!
The squadron was assigned to Bangor, Maine to pick up a brand-new B-17 before going to Europe. All the crews were naming their planes and Morgan felt his crew should name their plane also. After much discussion, the bomber was named Memphis Belle by a slim margin. Two votes for Memphis Belle and one vote each for eight other names. Morgan called Esquire magazine in New York and talked to George Petty, the creator of the 1940’s Petty Girl drawings, to design the nose art for Memphis Belle. He agreed. An artist in the squadron painted it on the nose of the bomber. A red bathing suit on one side and a blue bathing suit on the other side, adorned the Memphis Belle.
In October 1942, Memphis Belle and crew went to Bassingbourn, England, a luxurious base of operations compared to most Air Corps bases. Morgan says everything was better except the food. On November 6, 1942, Morgan and crew went on their first bombing mission to Brest, France against Nazi submarine pens. The mission was accomplished without too many difficulties but the next mission against submarine pens at St. Nazaire, France was an entirely different matter. One plane from the squadron was lost and Memphis Belle came back with 50 or more bullet holes in the fuselage. At that point, the reality of the brutal air war came home to the crew of the Memphis Belle. During the 25 missions Memphis Belle flew, she lost eight engines that were shot out, a large piece of the right wing blown off and a six-foot piece of stabilizer destroyed along with many hundreds of bullet holes, all without the loss of any crewmember.
In the dark days of 1943, due to losses among air crews reaching as high as 80% of a squadron, a new rule was put in effect; any crew attaining 25 missions would go home, with their combat service completed. On Belle’s 20th mission a famous Hollywood director, William Wyler asked if he could come along and take movies for a training film. After filming the 25th mission, Wyler told Morgan the film was a documentary that was to be shown around the free world with Memphis Belle and her crew as the focal point. Morgan asked, “What if we hadn’t come back from the 25th mission?” Wyler replied, “We had a backup; Hell’s Angels.” This documentary called “Memphis Belle, the story of a B-17” is currently shown on the History Channel from time to time.
Upon the completion of 25 missions, Belle and her crew started out on their 26th mission, which was to help sell war bonds and thank the production workers all over the country for what they were doing to win the war and their help bringing the Memphis Belle crew and other military personnel home. A visit to Asheville was part of the tour and true to form; Morgan flew the Memphis Belle between City Hall and the County Court House upon leaving Asheville. One hundred seventy-three feet separate the two buildings. Old timers still talk about that.
Media coverage of the war bond tour was intense and the romance with the real Memphis belle, Margaret Polk, fell apart. However, Morgan was a close friend of Polk until her death in 1990. In her later years, Polk was a leader in the restoration efforts on the Memphis Belle.
While he could have had an easy job after his experience in Europe, Morgan went on to the Pacific to continue his military career with a B-29 Super Fortress squadron. His aircraft was named Dauntless Dottie. He completed another 26 missions and on November 24, 1944, was the leader of the first bombing mission on Tokyo, since Jimmy Doolittle’s famous raid in 1942. He also took part in the firebombing of Tokyo in early 1945 that burned 54 square miles to ashes. After Morgan left the Pacific, Dauntless Dottie crashed off the island of Kwajalein. Morgan is part of a current effort to find and rehabilitate the aircraft.
In 1990, William Wyler’s daughter, who is a movie producer, wanted to create a “Hollywood” movie on the World War II exploits of the Memphis Bell. She was going to name it the “Dixie Belle” but thought better of that and named it “The Memphis Belle.” It was a composite of every combat flight the Memphis Belle had made, and Morgan was not happy with it although it was entertaining and a box office success. Matthew Modine played the part of Morgan in the movie.
The B-17 Memphis Belle today is on triumphant display in the U S Airforce Museum in Dayton Ohio. Robert Morgan is very generous with his personal time, regularly speaking to high school history and ROTC classes and college classes. He attends air shows all over the world and continues to fly military and civilian aircraft. In 1997, he met the Queen Mother in England again, 54 years after she had congratulated him on the completion of 25 missions in the Memphis Belle.
Morgan has four children and resides in Asheville with his wife Linda, also a pilot, along with miscellaneous dogs and cats.
B-17 statistics: Cost $314,000 in 1943, Wingspan 103’9”, Length 74’9”, Height 19’1”, Weight 65,000 pounds, Speed 160 mph @ 25,000 feet, Bomb Load 8,000 lbs., Fuel 2,520 gallons, Guns, 13 – 50 caliber machine guns, Crew 10
Myers, Ralph E.
Ralph Myers learned to fly in the late 1930s. The US Marines would later use this skill when as a Staff Sergeant, Myers was assigned as pilot of a military transport to carry US paratroopers invading the South Pacific Island of Bougainville. That mission took a deadly turn, and Myers was fortunate to survive.
Growing up as the son of a farmer and grocer in Florida in the 20s and 30s had its good points. The country was in a depression for a major part of that time, but Myers remembers his family always had enough to eat. They did not have much else in those “boom and bust” times. When a senior in high school, Myers took courses at Florida Southern College and for extra money, did carpentry work on a new building at the college designed by world-renowned architect Frank Lloyd Wright.
On December 7, 1941, while attending college, he was at his fraternity house and heard the news of the sneak attack by Japanese forces. On Monday December 8, all fraternity members gathered around a radio and heard President Roosevelt deliver his famous “Day of Infamy speech” to congress and the nation. On December 18, Myers went home on a Christmas holiday but did not return to college; instead, he went to Tampa to take a physical to enter the Army Air Corps aviation program.
He failed the Air Corps physical exam due to low blood pressure, so he joined the Marine Corps instead in March 1942. The Marines told him to go home temporarily and in May 1942, he was assigned to boot camp at Parris Island SC. Upon his arrival late in the evening, his drill instructor said, “…I plan to make you suffer! Hit the sack because you will be up at 4:30 am.” This set the tone for his training, and the drill instructor was a man of his word.
After thirteen weeks of boot camp, Myers graduated in late 1942 with a great deal of respect for his tough drill sergeant. He felt well trained as a Marine fighting man and believed he could lick anyone.
After two short assignments in the states, he was sent by ship to an airfield in New Caledonia to drive an “Oshkosh” a tractor that is used to position aircraft on an airfield. In January 1943, Myers was sent to Guadalcanal to take part in mop up operations on that embattled island – our first offensive action in the Pacific. As part of that effort, Myers grimly realized the Japanese wanted to kill him. On his two patrols in the jungle, Myers said his unit concentrated on snipers in trees and a space 10 feet wide and 20 feet in front of each man. One had to pay close attention or be a casualty.
After the mop up, Myers was brought back to New Caledonia. Naval ships were bringing in transport planes (DC-3s) with their wings off, to be attached after unloading. There was a shortage of pilots and headquarters was searching service records for men with pilot training. When they discovered Myers had pilot training, he was “told” he must be trained to fly the transports. He was promoted to staff sergeant and after three weeks of training was certified as a pilot. He would fly co-pilot initially in carrying men and materiel on dozens of flights to and from Australia. Myers made two combat missions as pilot, to Bougainville during invasion operations. The first flight was only a 45-minute flight, so a bare minimum of fuel was carried, and all unnecessary equipment was removed from the plane to maximize the number of paratroopers carried. Slowly gaining speed and lifting off with full throttle, the plane was so loaded it could only climb 100 feet per minute. While gaining altitude, machine gun fire from a Japanese Zero fighter caused Myers’ plane to crash in the ocean. Myers made a good pancake landing in the water and fortunately, the partially filled gas tanks aided floatation. Just as help arrived, the plane started to go underwater. Myers and all the paratroopers were saved.
The second mission to Bougainville was also to drop paratroopers. As Myers gained altitude after dropping the paratroopers, his twin-engine transport was hit by cannon fire, which killed his radioman, tore off the right propeller, and blew a hole in the wing. The propeller flew through the cockpit, instantly killing his co-pilot but miraculously missing Myers except for minor pieces of shrapnel in his arm. The aircraft was almost uncontrollable on one engine and with large holes in the wing and cockpit areas. Myers was dazed but alert enough to put the plane on autopilot and struggle to the rear door of the plane to bail out. Ironically, Myers landed in a group of landing craft that were taking troops to shore as part of an invasion force. He was rescued by personnel on one of the landing crafts and became part of the landing force. He embarked from the landing craft and got halfway up the beach when it felt as though he had been hit in the back by a large baseball bat. He saw flashes of lights and stars. That is all he remembers. The man next to him had stepped on a land mine and he had been killed instantly while Myers received 17 pieces of shrapnel in his back.
Myers was evacuated to a hospital on New Caledonia for an operation to remove the shrapnel. All shrapnel was removed except three pieces too close to his spine for a routine operation. A specialist would have to handle that. While waiting some weeks for the specialist to arrive on New Caledonia, Myers recuperated enough to allow him to take a rest and recreation leave in Australia. While there he was involved in an automobile accident, which was not his fault, and the person with him had a broken leg, punctured lung and was unconscious for several days. Myers was not injured but would not leave until his friend was conscious. This caused Myers to be AWOL (absent without official leave) and when he returned to New Caledonia for the operation to remove the shrapnel he was punished by demotion to sergeant from staff sergeant. His time in the hospital counted as part of his punishment so that was the end of the AWOL episode. The surgeon took out only two pieces of shrapnel and Myers did not fly again.
He was assigned to headquarters duty on Bougainville, handling mail and other administrative duties while dodging sniper bullets. He was classified as walking wounded as he still had one piece of shrapnel in his back. On Bougainville, he had many opportunities to hear Tokyo Rose’s music and her propaganda broadcast from Japan in English. One night while listening to Tokyo Rose’s music, there was an astounding announcement by Tokyo Rose that the Japanese were currently mounting a large-scale attack on Bougainville to retake it. Myers jumped up, accidentally breaking the light bulb in his tent and listening for further information. It was deadly quiet and nothing was happening. It was determined later that the Japanese were perpetrating a hoax on their own troops to inspire them to fight with more determination on other islands because of “their success on Bougainville”.
The most courageous man that Myers remembers from WWII was a friend nicknamed Smitty. Myers visited him at the hospital after the battle for Bougainville was over. This man had operated a machine gun against one of the Japanese suicidal attacks on our lines and killed hundreds of Japanese soldiers. A grenade hit him and blew off most of both hands. The Japanese assumed he was dead but a day later when the area was retaken, our troops found him still alive. Smitty embodied all Myers had learned about courage in combat.
Myers came home on a hospital ship in October 1944 and was returned to Camp Miramar in California, being assigned to military police and security duties until May 1946. Myers was discharged and entered the University of Florida under the GI bill, majoring in Architectural Engineering. This led him to a long, successful career as a building contractor in Florida. In the latter part of his career, he took a job in Greensboro as NC State Director of Public Housing, living in Reidsville.
Myers is married to Isabelle and has three children and six grandchildren. They continue to lead very active lives in civic and church affairs in Reidsville. He sums up his WWII experience by saying “I am proud to have served my country in time of need”. Oh yes, the last piece of shrapnel worked its way out in 1992 with some minor surgical help. The scars in his memory remain.
Newman, Phil
On joining the service: I could have been exempt but I wanted to serve.
On his choice to go into multi engine aircraft: I liked the thought of four engines out there.
On his training: We were lean, fit, well trained, and ready to go to war.
On his pay: I was making $347 a month at age 21 and felt good about that.
On his first mission: All the glory was gone. It was work and being scared.
On losing a friend in combat: It was terrible, going through a friend’s personal effects.
On writing letters: I wrote a letter home before a mission. My return was uncertain.
On the Tuskegee Airmen: They were our friends, and they took good care of us.
On his service: One of the best things I have ever done, and I would do it again.
As a young man, Phil Newman did not believe he would ever fly in an airplane, not to mention, pilot one. That all changed in 1942 when he enlisted in the U.S Army and requested assignment to the air cadets. This request was to change his life and confront him at a very young age with experiences that most men never face.
As a young man, he watched planes take off and land at Greensboro airport. He wanted to fly! He graduated from High School in June 1941 leaving Greensboro to work for his uncle in New Jersey as a machine operator. After Pearl Harbor, he could have been deferred to continue his work in the machine shop, as it was vital work in the national defense effort. However, Newman was impressed with all the military planes regularly flying overhead and elected to join the U. S. Army in November 1942 with a goal of becoming a pilot.
He was assigned to Atlantic City to take his 10 weeks’ basic training. While there, he learned to greatly respect his drill sergeant who had been a sparring partner for ex-heavyweight boxing champion Jack Dempsey.
Newman was finally accepted as an air cadet and assigned to Grove City, Pennsylvania for 10 weeks of training. From Grove City, he went to Nashville, Tennessee to a classification center where he took a battery of motor skill, eye and depth perception tests, as well as physical training. There, aviation cadets were classified as pilots, navigators, or bombardiers or sent to the infantry if a cadet failed the tests. All the cadets wanted fighters except Newman. He liked the idea of four engines on the wings and wanted to go into heavy bombers.
Newman’s next assignments were to Maxwell Field, Alabama and then to advanced flying school in Stuttgart, Arkansas where he met his wife to be. If a pilot washed out during this advanced training, he was usually assigned as a navigator or bombardier.
In June 1944, Newman graduated from advanced flying school as a Flight Officer, which was the equivalent of second Lieutenant. He was making $347 per month, which were outstanding earnings for a high school graduate in those days.
Newman was next assigned to Plant City, Florida to go into transitional training to B-17 heavy bombers and on to Drew Field where he trained night and day for two months under all flying conditions.
In November 1944, he was assigned to go to Hunter Field to pick up his crew and a new B-17G, the latest model of the bomber. He was ready to go to war after one- and one-half years of training. After additional familiarization flights, he flew to Fort Dix, N.J. and prepared for the flight overseas. He and his crew readied themselves for the flight and took off at 11:30 P.M. headed for the Azores, then on to Marrakech, Morocco. Upon leaving the Azores, Newman held the plane to an altitude of 300 feet all the way to Morocco to avoid being sighted by enemy radar. This was the most difficult part of the trip due to the intense concentration necessary to fly at such a low altitude.
After a brief stay in Morocco, he took off with his crew and opened sealed orders which directed him to Foggia, Italy which was a former Luftwaffe air base, which had, been abandoned quickly as the allies advanced up the boot of Italy. Many German aircraft had been left on the field. The aircraft were a strange sight as the Italians had stripped them of anything useful, including the tires, which they fashioned into soles for their shoes.
When Newman arrived at the Foggia base, the weather was rainy, cold, wet, and most depressing. He was now part of the 15th Air Force, 99th Bomb Group, 347th Bomb Squadron.
Every night the crew checked the battle orders for the next day. If your plane and crew were on the orders, you went to bed and got your rest because tomorrow would be a long day. The first day Newman saw his name on the battle order, all the glory of being a pilot faded. It was just work and fear of combat and knowledge that he would have to put his life on the line for his country. The first flight, as was typical, was a milk run. No enemy planes and an easy target. This was to build confidence and allow crews to face some danger.
Targets were typically fighter manufacturing facilities, rail marshalling yards, and oil fields. A typical bombing mission would include 25 to 30 aircraft each one loaded with 10 men, 13 machine guns, 6,380 rounds of ammunition, 2800 gallons of gas and 6,000 to 10,000 pounds of bombs. The most critical problem of the long bomb runs were the anti-aircraft guns which became increasingly concentrated as the Germans moved back into their homeland and brought the guns with them. On a bombing mission, an air group could face thousands of anti-aircraft guns. Before every mission, Newman wrote letters home so there would be a last letter to his wife and family sent if he did not return. The worst duty Newman had was to go through the belongings of a flyer that did not return.
On the days he was assigned to fly a mission he would be awakened at about three A.M. In half an hour, he would do his morning routine and eat breakfast. After breakfast, all crew members would go to their briefing rooms where a large stage was set up with a map covered by a drape. The drape would be removed and the target for the day revealed. The pilots, navigators, and bombardiers would get separate briefings for their specialties. Before takeoff, all had the opportunity to see the Chaplain for spiritual counseling. Most crew members took advantage of that.
It was still dark when the crew rode out to their plane in an open truck or large wagon pulled by a jeep. All crewmembers would go through their check off list to be certain the bomber had, for example, a proper fuel load. The flight engineer would open all 13 separate gas tanks to be certain they were full. More than one bomber took off without a proper fuel load due to a mistake in fueling. On several bombing missions a field toilet was sealed and autographed by all the flight and ground crews with epithets for Hitler that don’t bear repeating. This was the last item put in and rested on the floor of the bomb bay and, of course, was the first thing dropped on the target.
Engines were starting and the flare from the control tower indicated the planes were to line up for takeoff. Planes took off at 30-second intervals, and it took about half an hour for the group to form up and head for the target.
When Newman’s plane was ready, he applied full power and started rolling. Climbing at 500 feet per minute to an altitude of 30,000 feet at a speed of 150 miles per hour on the eight-to-ten-hour flights to the target used two thirds of the fuel supply. When arriving in enemy territory the flak started to appear in the sky. Newman said “if you saw a black cloud, you were ok on that blast, as it had already dissipated. If you saw what appeared to be a match strike in the sky it was too close, and you would probably be hit by flak.” The B-17 had 13 separate oxygen systems for the crew of 10. Some crew members that failed to put on the mask tightly did not survive at high altitude. Heated suits kept the crew from freezing to death, as the waist gunner windows had no way to close. It was always freezing at high altitude. Even at sub-freezing altitude, the pilot was perspiring in his flight suit due to the stress of flying.
At about 15 miles from target, the bomb run began and the bombardier took over to fly the plane through his bombsight controls. Newman explains, “The German gunners knew our altitude and direction and planes were sitting ducks on the bomb run”. These were the scariest times of Newman’s life. Sometimes it was just slaughter with 20% of planes being lost over the target or damaged beyond their ability to return to base. If one engine was lost, you could get back—maybe. Two engines out and you were in serious trouble. If more than two engines were out, you normally could not make it back to base. If fighters were in the air this is when they attacked, looking for damaged aircraft and stragglers. At this stage of the war, fuel shortages allowed the Germans to place strong air defenses at only the most important targets.
During 1944 and later, P-51 fighters were able to escort bombers to and from the targets due to the invention of the fuel drop tanks which vastly improved the range of the fighters. The pilots most often accompanying Newman’s group were the famous Tuskegee Airmen, made up of black pilots. The Tuskegee Airmen, flying red tailed P-51s, never lost a bomber they escorted during enemy action. Even so, tight formations were critical to group integrity and to maximize firepower against the enemy fighters. The trip back was faster because the bomber weighed thousands of pounds less than on the outgoing trip and only needed the last 1/3 of the fuel supply. In a sense, Newman’s plane was coasting downhill back to base. If a crewmember was badly injured during the bomb run, he either froze to death or bled to death, as medical care was extremely limited on the plane. When arriving at home base, the damaged planes landed first to get wounded off and those planes still intact came in last.
`Debriefing followed the return and this was about a 30-minute recap of what was seen and done during the mission. Newman states, “Each successful mission was a victory which allowed me to live and fight another day”. Newman points out that these were, for the most part, 20-year-old boys doing extraordinary things to keep our country free. If you thought too much about what you were doing you would go crazy. Some did.
After the war, Newman returned to Greensboro with his wife and entered the communication business. He feels his time in service was the best experience he ever had because he was doing something very important for our country and learned to bear some very important responsibilities without breaking. Newman has two children, a son and daughter.
He is a founding member of the Combat Airmen of WWII (Now known as Veterans of America) a local organization of war veterans.
Riggs, William E.
When Bill Riggs graduated from high school in Grimesland, NC in 1939, he had no money, no job, and little idea of what he would do as his life’s work. The intervention of World War II gave Riggs strong direction to his life and resulted in significant accomplishments during his careers in both civilian and military work.
To Riggs, as for most high school graduates in 1939, the war in Europe was far away and not an immediate concern. His main concern was getting a job and upon the advice of his sister, went to Business College in Fayetteville, NC for a one-year course of study. Upon graduation, he went to work for the Civil Service at Ft. Bragg for a time.
On December 7, 1941, Riggs and some friends were riding in a car and listening to the radio. They heard the news of the attack on Pearl Harbor and unlike most young people, Riggs was a student of history and current events, and he understood better than most what this meant for our country.
As required, Riggs promptly registered for the draft. His superior at Ft. Bragg told Riggs he thought a deferment from military service might be possible due to the nature of his work at Ft. Bragg, but Riggs was not interested in deferment and indicated he would let events take their course. That decision resulted in his being drafted in November 1942. He had seven days to get his affairs in order and could only bring the clothes he was wearing to Ft. Bragg where he was inducted. He was told his civilian clothes would be shipped back home. He never saw the clothes again.
Riggs left Ft. Bragg for Camp Claiborne, LA after five days of getting uniforms, shots, KP duty, as well as limited indoctrination to the US Army. His trip to Camp Claiborne was on a crowded troop train. The trip started with lunch, and a fellow soldier spilled a full cup of hot coffee on Riggs’ new olive drab trousers. The sharp crease in his trousers was gone!
The 103rd Infantry Division was formed at Camp Claiborne and Riggs was asked his preference for duty. Having only his experience in Civil Service at Ft. Bragg in Ordnance, he chose Ordnance with the 103rd Infantry Division. His basic training was at Camp Claiborne. The only wound Riggs received during WWII was there during a demonstration where dynamite caps were used. One of the caps exploded at a distance from him during the demonstration and Riggs immediately felt a shock and blood running down his hand. A portion of the exploded dynamite cap had imbedded itself in his hand. The surgeon at the hospital could never find it and today that little piece of metal sometimes bothers Riggs.
One day, a notice on the bulletin board appeared asking for volunteers for Army Air Corps pilot training. Riggs volunteered along with a few friends. In September of 1943, Riggs received orders to Keesler Field, Biloxi, MS to begin the pilot training process. Riggs recalls one test called the sweaty palms test. If your palms were sweaty when you shook hands with the examining doctors, you were dropped from the program. The theory being, if you could not take the stress of an Air Corps physical without sweaty palms you could not take the stress of piloting an airplane. This was great duty for 5 months until the news was published that the air war in Europe was going so well that additional pilots were not needed. His pilot training ended.
Riggs was eventually sent back to the 103rd Infantry Division, now in Houston Texas. Back to the same typewriter he had used and with the people he had left some months before. This time however, the 103rd was headed for Europe. In October 1944, Riggs’ division was loaded on a converted Italian luxury liner bound for Marseilles, France.
Sixteen days before the ship arrived, the German army had been driven from Marseilles, so the city and port were bombed out and it was an awful scene to Riggs. During the two weeks Riggs was in Marseilles, trucks and jeeps were being unloaded from the ships in boxes. They had to be put together like an assembly line. Typical of an assembly line, when work was finished on a vehicle, a driver jumped into the vehicle and drove it off to the waiting army unit for whom it was destined. After all the 103rd units were delivered, Riggs asked for, and received, one more Jeep – unauthorized but delivered nevertheless – and it allowed Riggs as the driver, and his commanding officer, to ride over 10,000 miles in Europe with their own private transportation accommodations.
As the 103rd advanced in late 1944 on the same path the retreating German army took, the carnage of war was evident everywhere. Dead soldiers, dead horses, and burned-out vehicles lined the roads. In mid-December 1944, with the war seemingly winding down, heavy snow started falling and the 103rd pulled back for a time to watch for any action by the Germans. At this time the Battle of the Bulge started. At 4 a.m., the division was notified to leave in one hour, heading toward the raging battle to take up position in the area the 101st airborne division had vacated when they went to Bastogne. Every day and night, the battle sounds could be heard. Snow was 48 inches deep in many places and movement was almost impossible. Each night Riggs was responsible for typing up the day’s activity report and hand delivering it to headquarters. The first night he delivered the report, Riggs ran into a German roadblock but there were no German defenders. Then he saw two dead German soldiers, which were all that remained of the defenders of the roadblock.
Riggs spent many months going across Germany, to Darmstadt, Ulm, Heidelberg, and Nuremberg among many cities. Visiting the stadium in Nuremberg where Hitler had made so many political speeches was a sobering experience to Riggs, and the vision of that stadium lives in his memory. By April of 1945, the German army was in fast retreat. It was necessary to find gasoline for Patton’s tanks as they were advancing so fast that gas was in short supply. Riggs accompanied his superior officer on a mission to find gasoline wherever they could. In coming into a small town in Germany, they noticed several German soldiers with a crowd of persons going into a church service. This happened to be in front of the mayor’s office and Riggs’s superior told the mayor to tell the soldiers to turn in their arms and surrender to the two of them. There were 32 soldiers and they all surrendered and walked behind Riggs’s jeep back to the main lines as prisoners. Riggs and his superior went back and found 14 more German soldiers, who became their prisoners. Riggs still perspires when he thinks of the audacity of, he and his superior officer rounding up 46 armed German soldiers as prisoners, having only a rifle and a pistol as weapons to use if they had to do so.
Riggs was in Innsbruck, Austria when the war ended. He and others collected arms from the Germans still standing guard. They were very docile and offered no resistance. He sent a copy of the Star and Stripes newspaper to his sister showing the headline of the war being over and he received this treasured paper back from his sister’s family 50 years later.
Riggs had sufficient points to get out of the service so was ordered to Camp Lucky Strike for processing to return to the United States. He went to the United States by ship in July 1945, landing in New York. He received 30 days leave, which he spent in Grimesland, NC, and Tulsa, OK. In September 1945, he went to Fort Campbell KY and was discharged on Thanksgiving Day from Fort Campbell.
Riggs attended NC State on the GI Bill, majoring in Textile Engineering. A major part of his career, however, was spent as a Division Manager for Chase Packaging in Reidsville, NC.
Riggs had joined the ROTC at NC State and in 1947, when an Air Force unit was formed immediately after the establishment of the Air Force as a separate branch of service; he transferred to the Air Force ROTC. That was a good move as in his succeeding years in the Air Force Reserve, Riggs advanced to the point where he was appointed by Governor James Hunt as Assistant Adjutant General for Air with the rank of Brigadier General.
Riggs was married to Rebecca, now deceased, for 54 years and has 3 daughters, one deceased, and 7 grandchildren.
Riggs says his WWII experience was personally rewarding in many ways, but he would not want to repeat it. The changes it made in his life are profound. He also wonders if he would ever have left Black Jack, NC except for his participation in World War II.
Shinn, Conrad “Gus”
Mount Shinn is the third highest mountain in Antarctica at 15,292 feet. It is named after Conrad “Gus” Shinn from Spray NC, the first aviator to land an aircraft on the South Pole, in connection with Operation Deep Freeze II, an Antarctic Expedition in 1956.
Some of Gus Shinn’s earliest memories are of his father’s World War I uniform, and other accessories kept in a trunk in the attic. Shinn was intrigued as his father talked of combat and the aviators with their heroics in WW I. As a youngster, Shinn would dress up in his father’s uniform, put on the gas mask and play soldier. His father and mother were always a great inspiration to him and the early exposure to things military later guided Shinn to a career as an aviator in the US Navy.
During his growing up years and into high school, Shinn followed current events and was aware of the history unfolding in Europe in the late 1930s. After graduation from Leaksville high school, Shinn entered NC State to study aeronautical engineering and felt a natural inclination to join the Reserve Officers Training Corps.
In 1942, at the end of his 3rd year at NC State, Shinn elected to join, and was accepted in, the US Navy aviation cadet program. Pre-flight training was at University of North Carolina followed by primary training at Naval Air Station (NAS) Olathe KS and advanced training at NAS Corpus Christi TX. Shinn wanted to be a multi engine pilot and it was helpful that single engine (fighter aircraft) and multi engine (transport aircraft) pilots were separated into their categories alphabetically. Shinn’s name being near the end of the alphabet put him on the multi engine path.
Shinn was commissioned an Ensign and received his “gold wings” as a naval aviator in August 1943. He went on to advanced instrument school in late 1943 and in early 1944 was assigned to VR-1 (transport squadron 1). For about six months, he was flying high priority equipment in the anti-submarine effort to east coast destinations. Shinn was transferred to the South Pacific in late 1944.
Shinn explains, “Flying in combat conditions in the South Pacific was an extreme challenge, continually flying beyond our capabilities in all kinds of weather. We were just plain lucky we did not get killed.” Shinn would fly onto an island, which was not secured yet by our forces, to deliver whole blood, and on the return, take wounded soldiers back for medical care. The lumbering R5Ds (larger transport aircraft) made tempting targets for Japanese sharpshooters. It was common to have bullet holes in the fuselage of the aircraft after one of those missions. Coming into Okinawa on one such mission, Shinn could see US Navy ships firing their big guns and Japanese kamikaze (suicide) aircraft targeting our ships – with some success. One wounded soldier being evacuated for medical care by Shinn said, “I feel safer in my foxhole than in your plane.”
Shinn was on a flying mission when he heard news of the Japanese surrender – VJ Day (victory over Japan). A Happy Day!
For six months after VJ Day, Shinn was stationed on Guam, assigned to a medical evacuation squadron flying former US prisoners of war back to the states. When that assignment was completed, Shinn was sent back to his old squadron, VR-1 at Anacostia Naval Air station in Washington DC. He was contacted by Trigger Hawkes, a friend from South Pacific days who asked Shinn if he would like to go to Antarctica with the famous Admiral Byrd as part of a secret operation – Operation High Jump. It is said the reason for Operation High Jump was to help prepare the US Navy to fight the Russians in polar conditions. Shinn enthusiastically agreed.
Operation High Jump lasted from September 1946 to May of 1947, but only 30 days were spent at Little America in Antarctica. The participants went to within 400 miles of Antarctica on the aircraft carrier Philippine Sea with six R4Ds (smaller transport aircraft) aboard. Shinn’s plane and the others flew from the deck, and it was the first time aircraft of that size had taken off from an aircraft carrier. Colonel Doolittle’s B-25 bombers, which took off from the aircraft carrier Hornet on the Tokyo raid in 1942, were smaller but heavier.
The R4Ds were also fitted with skis for snow landings, which barely allowed the wheels to protrude and roll on the deck. Shinn was the person who tested the skis and found them satisfactory for use in Operation High Jump.
Shinn’s R4D and the five others mapped about 200,000 square miles of Antarctica in 30 days. Shinn came to know Admiral Byrd well and was a great admirer of this world-famous explorer.
Shinn then returned to Washington DC to his old squadron – VR-1. In early 1949, Shinn was assigned for two years to London where he transported high profile military and civilian personnel.
From December 1951 to March 1955 Shinn was in advanced schools, flight operations at Pensacola FL and in helicopter pilot training. In March 1955, Shinn read a Navy release requesting volunteers for a new exploration initiative to Antarctica called Operation Deep Freeze. The challenge appealed to Shinn’s adventuresome spirit, and he volunteered to become part of the operation. Deep Freeze I called for the establishment of a permanent research station to support later Deep Freeze operations. The Navy’s part was to support US scientists for their part in later International Geophysical Year studies. Unfortunately, the R4Ds flown by Shinn and others did not have enough fuel to overcome the fierce winds so had to turn back. Timing issues prevented Shinn from taking any additional flights to Antarctica in Deep Freeze I. The goal of Deep Freeze II was to establish a permanent station at the South Pole.
The R4Ds had additional fuel tanks installed to give greater range. Shinn’s flight to McMurdo Sound, Antarctica was in October 1956. The weather was terrible. Shinn and his crew had on the survival suits in case they had to ditch in freezing water with 50-foot waves. Shinn knew he would die if that option came up, so tried not to think about it. Prior to Shinn’s arrival, another plane had crashed into a mountain, and everyone aboard was killed. Shinn’s first flight over Antarctica was almost a disaster. Shinn’s R4D was fitted with nineteen JATOs (jet assisted take off) attached to the fuselage, in case of trouble. Over the Executive Range of mountains, the aircraft was hit with a wind shear and airspeed dropped precipitously causing the plane to drop like a rock. A wing brushed the ground and threw up a cloud of ice crystals as Shinn fired all nineteen JATOs. The plane rose like a helicopter from this great driving force, averting disaster. Several planes were lost during the eight months duration of Deep Freeze II.
At about 3 a.m. on October 31, 1956, Admiral Dufek, the Commander of Deep Freeze, had Shinn and the crew of his aircraft; “Que Sera Sera” awakened and were told that the flight to the South Pole would take off in secret at 8 a.m. There was a bit of rivalry as to which person would land first at the South Pole, Admiral Dufek or veteran Antarctic explorer Paul Siple who had accompanied Admiral Byrd on his first expedition in 1927. Dufek won this contest.
Lights and shadows on the icy ground at South Pole made it difficult to be certain the landing was not to be in a crevasse. Shinn circled several times and finally felt comfortable enough with the lay of the land to come in safely. The passengers and Shinn left the aircraft with the engines idling, to avoid any possibility of the engines freezing at a temperature of 65 degrees below zero. All the instruments were sluggish and there was real danger of hydraulic fluid freezing which would prevent takeoff. In addition, the South Pole is at approximately 9,000 feet elevation, which adds to the difficulty of takeoff due to “thin air.”
After 45 minutes outside the aircraft, the group was ready to head back to McMurdo Sound. In preparation for takeoff, it was obvious the skis were frozen to the ground. Shinn gunned the engines, but the plane did not move. It took all 16 of his JATOs to move the lumbering aircraft into the freezing air. It was touch and go while the plane slowly gained altitude and then safely returned to McMurdo Sound. Conrad Shinn from Spray NC – the first pilot to land an aircraft at the South Pole! The best part is, Shinn was also the first to take off from the South Pole.
Shinn describes the South Pole as the most remote, windy, cold, desolate, rugged yet beautiful place on earth in his opinion. Temperatures range from 20 degrees below zero in “warm” weather to 126 degrees below zero in the coldest weather. Antarctica is one- and one-half times the size of the United States and has an 18,000 mile coastline..
Shinn remained in Antarctica for the remainder of the expedition carrying men and material for the permanent station at South Pole. He also returned the following year for Deep Freeze III doing similar work.
In mid-1958, Shinn was transferred to NAS Pensacola FL to a flight operations job, and he retired from his Navy career 4/1/1963. Shinn has remained in the Pensacola area and even now he will see Navy acquaintances browsing in the National Museum of Naval Aviation in Pensacola or visiting at restaurants and they will remember him and thank him for the leadership he displayed over the years, especially to younger aviators.
On November 10, 2006, the Museum celebrated the 50th anniversary of the South Pole landing and paid tribute to Shinn’s courage in accomplishing this aviation milestone. Shinn says he never thought about the danger. He said, “I was in the military and when our superior officer said go, we went.”
Smith, Jim
Jim Smith was a “Buffalo Soldier” of the African American 92nd Division during World War II. The origin of the legendary name “Buffalo Soldiers” which was coined by American Indians around the time of the civil war is murky. Some say when the American bison was wounded or cornered; it fought ferociously while displaying uncommon courage, identical to the black man in battle. Others say it was because the short black hair reminded the Indians of the coat of the buffalo. Buffalo Soldiers fought with distinction in WWII and all wars beginning with the Civil War.
Smith was born not far from where he lives now in Pelham and attended Caswell County schools. After graduation, he worked as a brick mason, a cook for a local family and in farming. When he learned about Pearl Harbor being attacked, he had just come in from a field after plowing. He, like so many, had no idea where Pearl Harbor was located but he knew the attack was bad for our country and for him.
Smith signed for the draft but was deferred for a time due to farming work. On October 12, 1942, he was ordered to report to Fort Bragg for 13 weeks of basic training. The bus to Ft. Bragg was filled with African American draftees, the only white person being the bus driver. Upon arrival at Ft. Bragg, he took his physical, received his uniforms, and began basic training with his all-black unit. Occasionally, Smith would receive a 36-hour pass giving barely enough time to hitchhike to Pelham and return. It was easy to hitchhike in those days because everyone wanted to help our military personnel. A driver would stop and ask, “where are you going soldier” and frequently the soldier would be taken right to his doorstep.
After basic, Smith was sent to Fort Huachuca AZ for advanced training. Ft. Huachuca housed 40,000 or more African American troops from the rural south, with a few white higher-ranking officers assigned to it. Smith was used to segregation so felt at home in his all black unit. It was at Ft. Huachuca that Smith was assigned reconnaissance as his specialty.
Smith went to Louisiana on maneuvers to hone his reconnaissance skills with further training in M-1 Garand rifle, M-1 Carbine and 45 caliber pistol, all of which he would later use in combat. After maneuvers, the 92nd Division left Ft. Huachuca to report to Camp Patrick Henry VA for embarkation to Italy on the Queen Mary. She was loaded with black troops on the trip to Naples, arriving in July 1944.
Smith was assigned to reconnaissance immediately and went to the front lines, primarily during the night, and on into enemy territory, to report on their movements. Daytime reconnaissance was very dangerous. Typically, a” recon” soldier did not have long life expectancy. His leader, Sergeant Curry, was fearless and said, “if you are afraid to go with me, stay here, I don’t want you”. Smith normally carried an M1 carbine and a German “burp gun” taken from a dead German soldier. The burp guns would fire six or seven rounds with a heavy “burp” sound, if you just touched the trigger. The good thing was, if Smith had to fire it under combat conditions, the Germans would think it was one of their soldiers firing it.
On occasion Smith heard Axis Sally the female propagandist for the Germans. She would try to destroy morale by saying the girls back home were unfaithful to the soldiers in combat. Her music was good, but she had little effect on morale. The Germans also dropped leaflets asking our troops to surrender, a mark of desperation on the part of the Germans.
On one mission to the front lines, an enemy recon squad came into sight before the enemy saw Smith’s squad. Smith and the men jumped into a deep ditch and the enemy walked by. Smith said he could have killed them all with his burp gun but did not as it would have given away their position. They were surrounded by German troops so he and his squad would have been killed in return. Smith said he was afraid the Germans could hear his heart pounding as they walked by.
Some Indian (from India) troops were near Smith’s squad at one time and they were wearing guns along with glistening sabers, which slowed them down significantly. Smith never saw the sense in that, as one would never be close enough to a German soldier to use a saber effectively. Smith also was astonished by British troops he encountered occasionally, who would stop for a spot of tea at 4 pm unless the enemy was too close.
As the German troops were chased up the Italian peninsula, Smith’s unit used jeeps to keep up with the retreating Germans. On one occasion, Smith was second in a line of three jeeps on the road. The Germans had mined the road, and the first jeep hit a mine and blew up killing all passengers. Smith stopped his jeep immediately, feeling fortunate he had not yet hit a mine. Looking under the right front tire, he saw a land mine was under the tire and tilted up on one side, the tire just missing the detonator. He got out of his jeep, unscrewed the detonator on the mine, disabling it. He was very thankful the jeep tire was just an inch to the left of the detonator. They backed up and called in the minesweeper trucks to clear the road of mines.
Most of the time, Smith and his unit were on the front lines and beyond. They used walkie-talkies to report to artillery units in the rear. They would frequently guide the artillery barrages by calling back to the unit, for example, “north 50 yards”, “to the right 100 yards” to bring the artillery shells in on the enemy. The transmissions had to be coordinated to the split second and they could only talk in short bursts. The Germans were using listening devices and could triangulate using the transmission to determine the position of Smith and his men if the transmission was too lengthy.
On a water channel, some tanks were being unloaded, and the Germans held a commanding position in a house some distance away. With their accurate 88 mm guns, they had blown up some tanks as they left the ship. Smith observed that a red-tailed P-51 aircraft had been called in and approached the building where the gun was located and took it out with one well-placed bomb. He later learned the pilot of the P-51 was Colonel Benjamin O. Davis of the famed Tuskegee Airmen, who became the first black general in the history of the Air Force.
Smith was never injured in combat but many of his fellow soldiers were wounded or killed. In one case, the German troops were waving a surrender flag and the Lieutenant in his unit raised up to see the “surrendering“ Germans. As soon as he raised his head, a German sniper shot and killed him instantly, hitting just below the helmet. The whole group of Germans was killed for their duplicity. A warrant officer brought up to replace the Lieutenant was killed a few days after he assumed command, during a German counterattack. The unit had to retreat but Smith helped retrieve the officer’s body that night.
Some Italians were friendly during the day but at night they used whatever information they had gained during the day to come back and kill American soldiers. This added to the uncertainty of combat. The stress of combat was too much for some and they became dangerous to themselves and fellow soldiers. One man, instead of turning off lights at night shot out the lights with his 45-caliber pistol. He spent time patching holes in his tent the next day. Those that became mentally unstable were sent to the rear for further evaluation.
Fortunately, due to the youth of the soldiers they were generally in good health, mentally and physically. The Red Cross was of help in family emergencies, which relieved some stress. There was a young black, Red Cross woman at headquarters who would help get men home in case of a death in the family or other emergency. As time passed in combat, Smith says he felt himself grow mentally tough and almost immune to the stress of battle. A person had to consider himself dead to deal with combat stress.
As the Germans fled north, they left ammunition and guns behind. There was no danger of running out of ammunition for the captured German burp guns. The young recruits that joined Smith from time to time were most likely to be killed early on, as they had to learn not to panic under fire. The deadliest situation was under machine gun fire when they would panic and stand up and run instead of quietly crawling to safety. A soldier with two weeks service in combat became a hardened veteran. The new soldiers were also susceptible to German booby traps. Beautiful fountain pens on dead German soldiers would blow up if moved. Any desirable “trinket” on a dead German soldier was likely booby-trapped. Also, fine steel wires, invisible to the naked eye, would be placed across a road at throat level and kill jeep occupants. The men had to put up a vertical rod on the jeep front bumper to break such wires.
German troops left rear action forces to delay allied advances to allow the main force to escape north. These were in effect suicide troops because they were all killed during the allies’ rapid advance. Resistance became lighter as Smith advanced up the Po valley. As Smith’s unit advanced, he heard that Mussolini had been hung in the Milan town square a day earlier.
In early May, the Germans surrendered. Smith was very happy that he could get out on “points” before long due to his heavy combat record. He was sent home in December 1945 by ship, docking in Newport News. The only passengers on the ship were Buffalo Soldiers from the 92nd Division. They went over together and came back as a unit. Six hundred sixteen members of the 92nd did not come back as they were killed in action. An additional 2,187 were wounded in the Italian action.
Smith returned to Pelham in December 1945 after being in Europe about 19 months. What bothered him the most upon his return was that the black men who fought bravely for our country had to face discrimination and difficulty getting a job when they returned to the US.
After the war, Smith went back to work raising tobacco and cattle. Eventually, Smith transferred his superior map reading ability learned in the Army to reading blueprints for machining work at Dan River Mills. Smith worked at Dan River for 40 years becoming a master mechanic as well as an accomplished carpenter and brick mason.
n his private life, he is a lay preacher and was engaged in a prison ministry for 16 years. He values his military experience because it put him a “step ahead” in his return to civilian pursuits. He learned to be a stable person, able to deal with stress and discomfort.
He has been married to wife Nellie for 54 years. They have one son who has a master’s degree in engineering and works for Boeing and one daughter who has a master’s degree in business and is a building contractor. They are also very proud of their three grandchildren, one, a musician, another a pharmacist and another a teacher and vocalist. Jim Smith says living by Biblical principles is the reason for any success he has had in life.
Stanfield, William Alvis
In 1994, on the Fiftieth anniversary of D Day, Alvis Stanfield was at the US Cemetery in France, overlooking the invasion beaches of Normandy. Private First Class Stanfield had been at the invasion beaches shortly after D Day in July 1944 as a 19-year-old boy but was returning as President of the Fifth Infantry Division Society. Stanfield had the high honor of placing a wreath in memory of 5th Infantry Division soldiers buried there.
Stanfield had not yet graduated from Reidsville High School when he received his draft notice. After activation into the service, he reported to Camp Jackson SC for his uniforms and further assignment to the 423 Infantry Regiment, 106th Infantry Division. He took basic training with his newly assigned unit and did much KP (Kitchen Police, i.e. – cleaning up, peeling potatoes etc.) and mail clerk duties. Stanfield did not like the initial disorganization and uncertainty of being part of a new Regiment, so he requested transfer to combat duty. After he volunteered for combat, he was treated with much more respect by his commanding officer.
Stanfield was assigned to Fort Meade MD in preparation for overseas assignment but was with a particularly rowdy group of men, many of whom found a way to leave Ft Meade at night, without permission, to carouse in nearby cities. The only way the commanding officer would control the men was to take away their clothes, except for underwear, after duty hours. There was no unauthorized carousing in town after that.
After shots and some further indoctrination, Stanfield and his groups were loaded on the converted ocean liner, Empress of Australia, for the voyage to Liverpool, England and on to Litchfield, England by truck. Litchfield civilians had been told to evacuate their homes to allow lodging for about 10,000 US soldiers.
In September 1943, he was assigned to Warren Point in County Down, Ireland with the Fifth Infantry Division. Virtually all of Ireland was a military base building up to the invasion of Normandy. He trained in the mountains of Ireland and had much time off to enjoy the country. He was billeted in town so he learned to know the townspeople, many of whom are friends to this day. One person he met was Patrick Carr, a ten-year-old boy who became the mascot of his Company. In 1961, Stanfield sponsored the then 27-year-old Carr, to come to the US to live and become a naturalized citizen. He has remained friends with Carr to this day.
On July 3, 1944, Stanfield left Warren Point and sailed to Normandy coming ashore on Utah Beach to relieve the 16th Infantry Regiment of the First Infantry Division, which had advanced 15 miles into France in 33 days. That first night he walked on guard duty near the beach with great trepidation. The next day, Stanfield’s unit relieved the 16th Infantry Regiment, and it was clear the men had been under tremendous combat stress. There were no smiles or greetings; just a zombie like stare from the men being relieved. Stanfield never realized a group of men could smell so bad after a few weeks in combat without the basic niceties of life. He was about to understand this.
The Fifth Division would be fighting in the vast, dreaded, hedgerow country. You could not see anything beyond the road you were on. Roads were lined on both sides with high mounds of soil that prevented one from seeing anything on the other side. When it rained, the roads became quagmires. Stanfield’s unit waited in a hedgerow three days for the flanks to catch up with the main thrust of the Regiment. A German tank was no more than 50 yards away and fired regularly toward Stanfield’s unit with an almost immediate explosion on the hedgerow behind him. He did not get much rest there before he had to advance into combat that was even more treacherous.
On July 15, 1944, thirty-nine days after D Day, Stanfield’s unit was only 18 miles from the beach. On July 26, orders came down for the Fifth Division to attack Douville. As his unit approached Douville, Stanfield took binoculars and a trench knife from the body of a dead US officer. Later, Stanfield’s squad leader borrowed the binoculars. Shrapnel from German 88 mm artillery hit the binoculars as they hung around his squad leader’s neck and prevented shrapnel from entering his body. The squad leader credits Stanfield with saving his life.
After a particularly exhausting 11-hour march toward the next objective of St. Lo, Stanfield passed a group of British soldiers, one of whom remarked” Don’t take it too hard mate, it can’t last forever you know.”
The Allies made a breakthrough at St. Lo and at this time, the Fifth Division was assigned as the nucleus of General Patton’s newly formed Third Army. On one occasion, General Patton made a speech to the men and some nurses attended. The nurse’s faces became redder, as the air became bluer with Patton’s salty speech.
Stanfield describes St. Lo as “blown apart” from massive bombing by the US Army Air Corps and the fire of artillery units. Only chimneys and foundations were to be seen in this city of about 10,000 people. The Germans were in retreat and Patton’s Third Army was in pursuit. Patton was moving so fast the troops were surviving on K Rations and it was a challenge to keep gasoline available for vehicles.
Angers was the next, and largest, city to be liberated after D-Day. German resistance was very stiff around Angers. One night Stanfield and 11 other men were told to protect a bridge 8 feet wide over a small river. The Germans were firing their 88 mm artillery all night long trying to blow up the bridge but no attack by German soldiers was made that night. The entire evening was spent trying to avoid being hit by German artillery.
At Chartres, the Fifth Infantry was given the job of liberating the city. While the battle of Chartres was fierce, the world-famous cathedral was untouched by the war that swirled around it. One afternoon near Etampes, France, Stanfield, and his unit were pinned down in a field behind a long mound of potatoes about one foot high. The mound was the only thing between Stanfield and a German 88 firing on his unit from 1,000 yards away. They were stuck. At one point, his friend lost the ammo clip to his rifle. The friend got up on his knees to search for it and a German bullet took one finger off and put a bloody crease in his forehead. The squad leader went to him to give first aid oblivious to the enemy fire. They were pinned down until night when they escaped to the woods around their position. The Germans withdrew with heavy casualties and Chartres was liberated. The young French girls did not seem to mind kissing and hugging the smelly, bedraggled soldiers who liberated them.
Stanfield and his unit were transported by truck most of the way to Reims, France but also had to march a significant distance. The stress of marching and battle was severe. The men did not have time or availability to take a shower or shave. They were wearing olive drab wool uniforms, which were very hot but had to be worn, as the fatigue uniform caused a US soldier to look too much like a German soldier. To this point, Stanfield felt that he had spent as much time behind enemy lines as he had in front of the lines. After Reims was liberated, church services were held for the troops on Sunday.
General Patton turned toward Metz and Germans were firing on the Fifth Division killing Stanfield’s company commander. One night, the new Company Commander asked Stanfield to go on a one-man patrol to find the position of another company. The password changed at midnight, so Stanfield was not eager to go. If he did not get back before midnight, he would not know the password and could be shot by a sentry. Passwords came down every day from HQ and were based on well-known terms or phrases in the US, such as “Apple”, as a password, and “Orchard”, as the response. Stanfield understood many sentries have itchy trigger fingers. At night, telephone poles look like people, stray cows become enemy soldiers and Americans can “become” Germans.
At dusk, the Germans attacked, pushing cows ahead of them to absorb rifle and artillery fire. At this point Stanfield’s platoon was down to five men from the 45 that had been originally assigned. The other 40 men were either wounded or dead. As relief came in to allow the five men to go to the rear, an artillery round came in and killed two more men. Stanfield’s platoon was now down to three men out of the original 45. When the platoon moved back up to the main line of resistance, there were so many replacements, Stanfield felt as though he was a stranger in his own platoon. In most cases, he did not learn their names before they were killed. Stanfield said, “If a man lived 24 hours in combat, he was a veteran”.
The German artillery was constant and on one occasion as Stanfield puts it, “I got in the way of some shrapnel.” A shell exploded in the air and hit him. The platoon was now down to two men of the original 45. After Stanfield was wounded, he was given first aid and evacuated to a hospital away from the battle lines. Stanfield was eventually sent back to the US on the Queen Elizabeth liner along with his ragged uniform and worn-out combat boots. He arrived at Holland General Hospital on Staten Island and was later sent to Wakeman General Hospital in Indiana. Stanfield was under medical care for one year two months and 8 days, being discharged from the hospital and military service on December 6, 1945.
After release from the Army, Stanfield attended King’s Business College. He worked for American Tobacco for a time and then spent 31 years with Sears Roebuck managing the Greensboro distribution center. Stanfield continued in the Army reserves attaining the rank of Major. He has also served as President of the Society of the Fifth Division, a 1200-member organization.
As Stanfield puts it, “I went in the service as a boy and came out a hardened veteran”. Stanfield and his wife Vera are very active and have traveled the world over. The purpose of many of the trips has been to maintain contact with friends made in Ireland and France during World War II. Oh yes, the Irish Company mascot, Patrick Carr, now retired, comes from Chicago to Reidsville to visit from time to time.
Starke, Robert J.
Bob Starke felt a sense of history while being instructed by “Lucky Lindy”, Charles A. Lindbergh, regarding maintenance on newly arrived P-51 Mustang fighters in New Guinea. Lindbergh was an aviation icon, being the first person to fly solo from the US to Europe in 1927. The instruction took place on the same Lae, New Guinea airfield from which Amelia Earhart had last taken off on her flight around the world in 1937. Earhart was never found after her takeoff from Lae. Starke was favorably impressed with Lindbergh’s friendly demeanor, his knowledge and the badly needed help he provided.
Starke’s family moved from Bozeman MT to Nutley NJ while Starke was a child. He finished high school in Nutley and worked as a draftsman for a few years after graduation. On June 3, 1942, he was drafted into the Army Air Corps and told to report the next day for departure to Fort Dix NJ for processing. The Air Corps needed new recruits desperately in 1942! He was at Ft. Dix for three days and then sent to Miami FL for physical conditioning and military basics. The Air Corps had taken over several hotels on Miami Beach. Most of the drilling, conditioning and marching were done on the beach or at a local golf course.
Within a month, he was transferred to Jefferson Barracks MO for basic training. The training was tough, and Starke was happy to get orders to Brisbane, Australia to the 40th Fighter Squadron. It was a 30-day voyage to Australia, which was the staging area for further assignment to New Guinea. He received training in aircraft maintenance in Brisbane. Starke arrived at Port Moresby, New Guinea in late summer of 1942 and became immediately involved in aircraft inspections. His airfield was located close to the enemy’s positions so there were numerous combat missions flown every day. His routine was to get up at 4 am to preflight the aircraft before the mission; wait about four hours for the mission to be completed, and then do it again. During the wait, other aircraft were maintained. There was no break from this routine and little time off. There was a war on and it was close by. It was common to cannibalize damaged aircraft for parts to repair other aircraft which were still repairable. Parts were always in short supply.
All the while, the Japanese were engaged in frequent bombing runs on Starke’s airbase, usually at night. They used “daisy cutter” bombs, which sent shrapnel low, in a wide circle from the point of detonation. It was necessary to have a foxhole outside Starke’s tent so he could literally jump out of bed and be in his foxhole in an instant. Starke recalls at one location it took 100 sticks of dynamite to blast out a foxhole in coral, deep enough for protection. While in the foxhole, it was unnerving to hear the many bombs hitting the ground and “walking” toward his foxhole. He just prayed they did not hit his foxhole.
It was frustrating to take the daily bombings so during time off, Starke volunteered on six combat missions, as a waist gunner on a B 24 “Liberator” heavy bomber. This was a way of getting back at the Japanese instead of just absorbing their bombing every day. One of the cooks also volunteered for combat missions and he shot down two Japanese aircraft. As his symbol of air combat success, he painted two Japanese planes on a frying pan he proudly displayed in the mess tent.
Our troops were making good progress against the Japanese and Starke moved up the island of New Guinea always doing the same work as crew chief on fighters and helping on bombers. It was in 1944 when the combat units received the latest fighter, the P-51 that had a British Rolls Royce engine. This fighter had metric fittings, but Starke had no metric tools and none were on the way. Charles Lindbergh was hired by North American Aviation, the builder of the fighter to help assimilate the aircraft into combat in the South Pacific and instruct the crews how to shape the tools to work on metric fittings.
Starke moved on to the Shelton Islands to a forward airstrip where he stayed for four months. While working a mapping project in one of General Douglas MacArthur’s offices, MacArthur came in late one evening and asked Starke how he was doing on the project and showed concern for his wellbeing. Starke has never forgotten that personal encounter with a military legend.
The combat missions became more frequent and work more demanding. An investigation team came to the islands, headed by Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt (wife of President Roosevelt) with five senators, concerning the delay in getting enlisted men out of combat on rotation after 18 months. Pilots were rotated out regularly based on reaching a certain number of combat missions, but the ground crews were not. Nothing came of Mrs. Roosevelt’s investigation.
Uniforms became very greasy and dirty from the constant work on aircraft. Crew Chief Starke and the other mechanics used 100-octane gasoline to dissolve the grease. Soapy water was a luxury. There was a “no smoking” sign near the makeshift laundry for good reason.
Food was terrible at the forward locations. Starke recalls eating corned beef hash for 96 consecutive meals. Packages from home did arrive occasionally but only after a delay enroute of 5 to 6 months. Any food in the packages was either stolen before the package arrived or spoiled. Periodically a B-25 bomber would go to Australia for provisions, and the men would get some fresh food. They could also request some personal items to be brought back which seemed real luxury.
The top US ace fighter pilot of WWII, Major Richard Bong was in a fighter group stationed on the same field. Starke watched with interest as Bong’s air combat prowess set a US record for kills.
The men in Starke’s outfit were a very tight knit group, all over worked and tired. It was very informal, even with the officers. There was no saluting, and all were on a first name basis. Everyone just wanted to get the job done and go home. If high-ranking officers came on an inspection tour, things became “more military.”
It was amazing to Starke that some of the natives that worked for food maintaining the runways had never seen a photograph or heard recorded music. If Starke would take a photo of any of them, the natives were afraid that their spirit had been captured, and it could kill them. It took some serious explaining to convince them this was not the case.
Early one morning, Starke was up pre-flighting a fighter and noticed a Japanese soldier crawling up on the wing with a knife in his hand. Starke released the brakes on the P-51 and swung the plane around, throwing the Japanese soldier off the wing and into the whirling propeller. This action killed the soldier before he killed Starke.
His unit was assigned to the Philippines for a few weeks and again the combat missions were heavy and work unending. There were fewer Japanese aircraft in the air because most of them had been destroyed. More missions were flown as US forces worked their way toward Japan, and less time was spent in transit to the target.
It was common for the crews and pilots to get dengue fever, malaria and fungus infections. Starke had all three health problems and probably others he did not know about. He took Atabrine tablets every day, and it turned his skin yellow. He did not get all the Atabrine out of his system until six months after he stopped taking it.
While in the combat zone, he heard Tokyo Rose daily broadcasts. She talked of home and made-up stories about girlfriends and wives being untrue while their men fought far from home. Her broadcasts did not bother Starke, but he feels it did hurt the morale of some others. All the men enjoyed her music. Several of the men Starke knew became psychological cases due to the stress, danger and morale issues faced daily. Some just disappeared, never to be seen again. He also remembers the great morale boost that a visit by Bob Hope and his troupe brought to men in the combat zone.
After the brief time in the Philippines, his unit was transferred to Okinawa. There were still many Japanese soldiers in caves on the island. Being the target of small arms fire and hand grenades was common. Starke once went up in a P-47 fighter that was configured to take a passenger by removing an auxiliary gas tank behind the cockpit. That was the most thrilling ride Starke ever had. He was part of a mission that located a camouflaged Japanese airstrip, which was later destroyed.
After VE day, (Victory in Europe) May 7, 1945, the supplies and aircraft from Europe were sent to the Pacific theater. VJ (Victory over Japan) day followed on August 15, 1945. Starke became ill with malaria at that time, which delayed his return home until October 1945. He went by plane and ship to San Francisco and by train to Fort Dix NJ, where he was mustered out of the 40th Fighter squadron. Starke feels he matured very quickly during his time in the service and is proud that he was part of the fight to save the world from tyranny.
After his time in the service, Starke worked as a Mechanical Engineer for General Electric, Bell Labs and Harris Corporation. His wife Nadia is deceased. Starke has four children, three grandchildren and one grandchild.
Torbert, Deryl W.
Robert Ross/The Reidsville Review
In 1939, Montevideo MN was a heavily Scandinavian part of the United States. There were also many people of German heritage in the area. The German immigrants living there were generally pleased with the “nation building” in their Fatherland. The Scandinavians did not like what was happening so conversations among the townspeople, including students, were friendly but sometimes uncomfortable. The townspeople’s impressions changed December 11, 1941, with the declaration of war against Germany (declaration against Japan December 8, 1941), which was chilling to Germans and Scandinavians alike, as well as Torbert’s family. Young Deryl Torbert had no inkling that in a few years he would take part in great battles to be fought in Europe and on German soil.
After graduating from High School in 1942, his family moved to Minneapolis. In February 1943, Torbert was drafted and called to active service at Fort Snelling, MN where he received his uniforms and was processed for duty.
After a few days, he was sent to Camp Robinson, AR for three months to receive basic training and surprisingly, was designated a medical corpsman. He was taught to care for battle wounds and typical diseases that would be encountered in Europe or the Pacific. His commanding officer liked Torbert and asked if he would like to go to some specialized training. Torbert agreed and went to Louisiana State University for a nine- month assignment for training as a combat engineer. He had very little time outside the classroom and study hall. Torbert did have some free time to attend the LSU Presbyterian Student Center and met his future wife, Nori there.
The special training program was dismantled suddenly in early 1944 because of the desperate need for combat troops in Europe. Orders came through for Torbert and about 3,500 other men from LSU to be transferred to the 99th Infantry Division at Camp Maxey in Texas. At Camp Maxey, Torbert received additional combat training. His conditioning and endurance were superb, and he was prepared for combat.
After a train ride to Camp Miles Standish near Boston, MA, they embarked to England on September 30, 1944, arriving at Southampton on October 10. The incessant inspections and drilling caused the men to be itching for war. After more training and pep talks from the commanding officer, they rode in Landing Crafts to Le Havre, France, arriving on November 3. As Torbert says, “We thought we were hot stuff and ready for anything”.
The sight at Le Havre was sobering because of blown up ships in the harbor and devastation in the city and countryside. Surprisingly, some German sympathizers among the French fired upon the new arrivals. Fortunately, no one was hit. That first cold night, the men were in pup tents and pelted with sleet and rain, making it difficult to sleep.
Early the next morning, the men were sent to Aubel, Belgium by truck to relieve the battle weary 69th division holding a defensive position near the front lines. Torbert took up his assigned position with his Browning Automatic Rifle (BAR). The German battle lines were about a mile away and all the men were told to fire upon anything moving in front of them. One squad leader had been going from foxhole to foxhole encouraging his men and was shot because he got too far in front of the foxholes. His intentions were admirable but fatal to him. That death caused Torbert to be promoted to assistant squad leader. This new job resulted in Torbert regularly leading dangerous patrols to locate German positions and report to Battalion HQ.
For a time, there was not much action going on near his position near Monschau, Belgium. The men were miserable in the cold, with rain, snow, and sloppy conditions. It was the “calm before the storm”. Torbert was wearing “long johns”, two pairs of wool pants, a wool shirt, and a short jacket called an Eisenhower jacket. General Eisenhower designed the jacket himself as a uniform item. He also had his BAR with spare ammunition, hand grenades, K rations, canteen, and a steel helmet. This heavy clothing was not enough, and the men were in danger of freezing. As Torbert said, “My feet were the weakest points on my body”. His boots never seemed to dry out from the rain, mud, and snow. Men had to take their socks off to dry them over a fire, an uncomfortable act in freezing conditions, to avoid trench foot and gangrene. Many men were sent back to the infirmary to allow them to recover from trench foot. Since Torbert had only the beginning of trench foot, he was issued some very rare rubber overshoes, which helped him avoid the rampant foot problems.
On December 13, the 99th was ordered to go on the attack, against heavy resistance, to capture some pillboxes on the Siegfried line and a bridge held by the Germans. On the night of the 14th, heavy resistance bogged down the offensive maneuver. At the bridge, half of Torbert’s patrol was on the far side nearer the Germans and Torbert’s half on the near side. Orders came down to dig and in and prepare for enemy attacks. The morning of December 16, German General Gerd von Rundstedt’s army attacked fiercely as the beginning action of the Battle of the Bulge. The 99th was cut up and surrounded but held off and was able to withdraw. Half of Torbert’s patrol on the other side of the bridge was caught and killed. The sound of tanks and artillery was deafening. The “88” artillery guns of the Germans were firing into the trees so the shells would explode, and shrapnel would rain down on men in the woods. Foxholes were little protection from the death coming from above. As the 99th withdrew, defensive lines strengthened, causing the Germans to retreat from superior firepower.
Communication was terrible and many units were lost and had no idea what the situation was. Torbert says his greatest Christmas present in 1944 was the fog and snow lifting so our bombers and fighters could bomb and strafe the German infantry and tanks. With better visibility, our artillery also began to blast German positions only 100 yards in front of Torbert’s foxhole.
Torbert was hungry, thirsty, and exhausted after weeks in foxholes defending his positions. Finally, food, supplies, and more firepower became available, and the Germans started to withdraw. The Battle of the Bulge was over on January 25, 1945, after raging 41 days! Large units of German troops began surrendering. Except for die-hard SS elite troops, resistance was slackening in that area of Belgium. .
After clearing several small towns of German resistance, the 99th was ordered to the town of Remagen where the Ludendorff Bridge had been captured. It was the only bridge over the Rhine the Germans had failed to blow up. The next morning while crossing the bridge, Torbert was offered a ride in a jeep but refused saying it was too large a target. Ironically, the jeep was hit and destroyed but with no loss of life.
Several men of the 99th were killed by German sniper fire on the streets of Remagen. Due to the death of his Platoon Sergeant, Torbert was promoted to that position. The 99th was then assigned to General Patton’s Third Army and the 99th’s biggest challenge was to keep up with the rapid advance of Patton’s tanks across Germany. Along the way, the 99th liberated slave labor camps and prisoner of war camps. At the same time, German combat units were surrendering in large numbers.
In Salzburg, Austria on the way to Vienna, orders came down to withdraw from any confrontation with the Germans. Two days later, on May 7, 1945, Germany surrendered. The surrendered German troops were young, docile, and despondent except for the SS troops who were still arrogant and difficult to control. Torbert and his platoon were tired, bedraggled, smelly, and unkempt combat survivors, just happy to be alive and ready to go home.
Before long Torbert received orders to go home on leave and then be prepared to head to the Pacific for the invasion of Japan. During the voyage to the US, Japan surrendered, and the war was over. Torbert was discharged in November 1945 and married his sweetheart from Baton Rouge, LA in December 1945.
He went on to graduate from LSU with a degree in Social Work. After working in various locations, his last work was in the Developmental Disability Training Center in Greensboro. He retired in 1986.
Torbert is married to wife Nori and has three daughters, seven grandchildren, and three great grandchildren. He and his wife live active lives today knowing and appreciating that Deryl Torbert was one of those whose life was miraculously spared during the combat missions of the 99th Division, nicknamed “Battle Babies”, during World War II.
Tuttle, George Warren
The B-24 heavy bomber was straining all its four powerful engines to make a desperate, almost vertical, climb out of a valley in New Guinea where another aircraft had crashed a day earlier. The wings brushed the treetops but there was enough momentum to take the plane safely to altitude for the trip back to base in Hollandia, New Guinea. In the valley were other stranded aircrew members checking out the lost civilization found by a reconnaissance crew a few days earlier. Warren Tuttle remembers that narrow escape from the valley as though it were yesterday. The complete story of the rescue of the stranded crew and the lost civilization was reported in November 1945 Reader’s Digest.
Tuttle was born in Madison NC and his family moved to a newly purchased farm in Reidsville in 1934. He graduated from Reidsville High School in 1940 and worked on the family farm until he was drafted. He did not know much about the war but on December 7th, 1941, the day Pearl Harbor was attacked, some Army troops were marching through Reidsville on the way back from maneuvers and he and his friends told the troops about the attack. Tuttle knew he would be drafted eventually so continued to work on the farm. When he was drafted, he did not expect to visit thirty of the United States and fourteen foreign countries before his release from the Army.
When the draft board letter arrived in September 1942, he promptly went to Fort Bragg for his physical and tests and was assigned to aircraft engine mechanic school in Gulfport, MS. The Air Corps was so desperate for aircraft mechanics that it dispensed with normal basic training for Tuttle and his fellow trainees. After additional training on engines at Wright Patterson Air Base in Ohio he was sent to Laredo TX to a Photo Mapping Squadron. Tuttle’s job was to help map Mexico and Central America over several months using the Lockheed Vega twin engine aircraft. By this time Tuttle had been promoted to instrument specialist, which involved repair and replacement of aircraft instruments.
During a temporary tour of duty in Florida, his Commanding Officer requested two volunteers to go to Brazil for mapping duty. Tuttle agreed to go at 9:30 a.m. and was on a plane by 11 a.m. to Sao Paolo, Brazil. Tuttle’s unit was responsible for mapping Brazil but Tuttle’s time in Sao Paolo was primarily spent in refueling aircraft from 55-gallon drums and repairing aircraft instruments. The Brazilian Air Force was responsible for anti-submarine patrol off South America where many German submarines lurked. No good maps were available, and several aircraft crashed into unmarked mountains. While mapping, four planes flew side by side about one half mile apart at 20,000 feet. Literally miles of photographic film were used mapping Brazil.
While Tuttle was in Sao Paolo, he wore his Army uniform as he had not had time to obtain any civilian clothes. Sao Paolo was a hot bed of German spies. The US Army radio men were successful in locating about seventy German short wave transmitters reporting information to German intelligence. One night while walking back to his hotel in Sao Paolo, a dark limousine seemed to be following him. He stopped under a streetlight and looked at the car. One of the passengers got out and asked him if he was a US soldier. Tuttle said “Yes” and the man invited him to join them at a private bar for some refreshments. It turned out that the men who entertained Tuttle that evening were high profile businessmen including the President of Bell Telephone of South America, the President of a large Department store in Sao Paolo and the editor of the Sao Paolo newspaper. It was an enjoyable evening for Tuttle. About Christmas of 1943, Tuttle was transferred to Venezuela and started to fly regular mapping missions for several months. After his Venezuela tour of duty, he received a 20 day leave enroute to Riverside CA where his group was assigned B 24 Liberator heavy bombers to be used as mapping aircraft in the Far East. Tuttle took gunnery training in the four months he waited while pilots were being trained to fly the Liberator bombers. Tuttle’s pilot did not allow Tuttle to graduate from gunnery school for fear a newly trained and certified gunner would be taken from his crew to Europe, where gunners were needed desperately.
After this training Tuttle’s unit was transferred to Leyte in the Philippines and later, New Guinea. While in the Philippines, Tuttle took mapping flights to islands that were invasion targets for our forces, some as long as 17 hours in the air over enemy territory, thus the gunnery training. However, Tuttle never had occasion to fire on an enemy aircraft. In the Philippines Tuttle was wounded in an unusual way. A building was being torn down, and Tuttle happened to be observing it. There were many mice in the building. A man threw a knife at a mouse but missed and the knife imbedded itself on the side of Tuttle’s foot. The knife was pulled out and his foot sewn up by a doctor without benefit of any anesthetic. Fortunately, it was not a serious wound. No purple heart award was made.
While in the South Pacific, Tuttle and his fellow aircrew men listened to Tokyo Rose who played good American music as well as spewing out propaganda to attempt to destroy morale among the troops. When Tuttle’s group was transferred to New Guinea, Tokyo Rose announced it on the radio and welcomed his group to New Guinea. Her intelligence sources were very good!
It was in New Guinea that the lost civilization called Shangri-La was discovered in a remote valley. Tuttle’s aircraft was sent to find the plane that had crashed while on a reconnaissance mission over the valley. Later, Philippine workers were dropped into the valley to build a short runway. A glider was flown into the valley to land on the runway and rigging was set up to allow a C 47 transport to snatch it with the personnel who were still alive on board, out of the valley behind the C 47.
When on flying duty, Tuttle always had a certain fear while over enemy held territory. While he never shot at an enemy plane, his plane was shot many times from the ground.
One fond memory Tuttle has is of the wonderful food that his unit enjoyed. Since his unit was totally separate from the bases where they operated, the unit had its own cooks and obtained its own food from Australia. Only the best food would do and that is what he and his fellow crew members enjoyed. Tuttle was on one trip of the “Fat Cat” run to get food when a violent storm came up tossing the plane around like a rag doll. The pilot told the crew to prepare to bail out over what was either the ocean or New Guinea. Just before bailing out, which likely would have meant certain death, the storm stopped as suddenly as it began. The trip continued uneventfully from that point back to the New Guinea base.
On more than one occasion, a Japanese soldier still at large would wear a US uniform from a dead soldier and use it to sneak into the mess hall at the New Guinea base and eat from the Army chow line. Some were caught and captured in the mess hall.
On August 14th, on Leyte, while Tuttle watched a movie, shouts arose, and guns began to go off. It was the VJ day announcement. Victory over Japan! One of the men ran across a road to tell his buddy. He was hit by an Army vehicle and killed instantly.
Things happened fast after that. Tuttle was transferred to Seoul, Korea for duty and later made crew chief of the “Click and Shutter” a B-24 Photo Recon plane. He never served as crew chief though as immediately after being made crew chief, he received orders to return to the United States. When his transport ship arrived in Seattle, it was greeted by thousands of well-wishers.
After a train ride of eight days to Ft. Bragg, Tuttle was discharged on Christmas Eve, 1945. He obtained a ride to Greensboro on that bitterly cold day and then hitchhiked to Reidsville. His parents did not know he was on his way home. He stopped at Belk’s Department store where his brother worked, and his brother took him home for the great reunion with his parents after more than three years of seeing much of the world and being in harm’s way. Tuttle says he would not take anything for his experiences and the friends he made during his time in WW II.
Most of Tuttle’s career after World War II was with the NC Highway Department. Warren Tuttle and his wife Frances were married on December 25, 1946, and have lived their entire married life on the Reid School Road family property purchased in 1934 by Tuttle’s father. The Tuttle’s have one married daughter and one granddaughter.
Underwood, Howard L.
In April 1944, Howard Underwood could see the German Army was in retreat from his vantage point looking out from his waist gunner position on a twin engine B-25 Mitchell medium bomber 12,000 feet above the Italian countryside. He could almost taste the inevitable victory in Europe that would occur within a month. However, that did not diminish the effectiveness of the remaining German 88 mm anti- aircraft artillery shooting at his aircraft and trying to kill him. The German 88 was a fearsome weapon capable of firing 25 rounds a minute with extreme accuracy. Crewmembers of all our aircraft flying against the Nazis were very respectful of that weapon. It could send shells with flak so thick you could walk on it at 37,000 feet, according to Underwood.
It was a circuitous route from his birthplace on a farm in Alamance County to the Italian battlefront in 1945. Underwood graduated from high school and worked for his uncle for a while in the grocery business. He was certain he would be drafted and was not surprised to get his induction letter in late 1942. He was on active-duty January 8, 1943.
After induction at Camp Croft, he was assigned to Fort Jackson, MS and there was given an aptitude test, which indicated he would do well in the Air Corps. After the usual marching, calisthenics and classroom training at Miami Beach, FL and occasionally enjoying the warm sun and water he was issued a heavy overcoat and sent to Lincoln NB in March 1943 to be trained in aircraft engine repair. Underwood had applied to pilot training school, but his preliminary orders did not come through until he had been at Lincoln NB for 3 months. He took the physical for pilot training from Doctor Penn who asked Underwood where he was from. Underwood replied that he was from NC and Dr. Penn said, “So am I”. Underwood passed all the Pre-Flight tests, perhaps with a little help from Dr. Penn. As there were no specific openings for pilot training at that time, he was sent along with other aspiring pilots to Oklahoma A&M for college training in Physics, Chemistry and other technical courses.
Upon being assigned to San Antonio for pilot training, Underwood was put in charge of his barracks and one of the aviation students was the man to be the pilot of the B-25 bomber which Underwood was later assigned. For nine weeks, Underwood toiled in the flight-training program, and he really wanted to fly. Underwood’s transfer to Pine Bluff AR for further flight training coincided with an Air Corps cutback in pilot training, reflective of success in the air war in Europe and the Pacific. One rough landing on a training flight put Underwood out of pilot training and into radioman school. The day he washed out of pilot training there were hundreds more being washed out.
Radio school and gunnery school prepared Underwood for his combat duty to come in Italy. He learned to take a 50-caliber machine gun apart and put it together again while blindfolded with gloves on. While in combat, typically a bomber crewman is at freezing altitudes and vision could be limited due to fogged goggles or flying in darkness. Hands would freeze without gloves on.
Underwood had not been home on leave for twenty-two months and when transferred to Columbia SC to join a B-25 crew, he had 10 days leave enroute to visit his family. While home, his father was putting up hay, so Underwood requested, and was granted, an additional seven days leave to help his father.
While in Columbia he met an officer who had been an Aviation Student in San Antonio assigned to the barracks Underwood. oversaw and the officer said, “You are in my crew as of now”. Interestingly, the pilot had been one Underwood had to chastise for poor behavior while a student and now he was Underwood’s pilot and ultimately a good friend.
As radioman, Underwood had to unreel a 30-foot antenna with a 3-pound lead weight at the end from the belly of the B-25 to pick up radio signals. He could not see outside from his position. On one mission, as the plane was coming in for a landing in Columbia, the pilot did not warn Underwood that a landing was about to take place. When Underwood heard the engines cut off, he knew the landing was imminent and started to reel in the antenna, but it was too late. The lead weight flew loose at 90 miles an hour and was never found.
Underwood finished his training in December 1944 and on Easter Sunday 1945, he went aboard the Mariposa, a luxury liner, headed for Europe. About two weeks later, after a train trip from Naples, he arrived at a B-25 base at Farno, Italy. Underwood was in the air on bombing missions a few days later. While in the air on a mission to Brenner Pass in Austria, the airplane’s radio was tuned in to BBC and on April 12, he learned of the death of President Roosevelt over the B-25’s radio. It was not unusual to tune in to Axis Sally, German propagandist, and hear the names of individuals in squadrons and their targets for the day.
The view from the B-25 was excellent and Underwood could see below the massive retreat of the German army as it was taking place in April 1945. While the German troops were in disarray, the German 88 guns were in full force against the allied aircraft. In some cases, because the guns were in caves, it was necessary for small fighter-bombers to fly directly toward the caves and, in effect, throw a bomb into the cave. The 88s took their toll on aircraft and several planes were lost due to enemy fire.
Most of Underwood’s missions were to blow up railroad marshalling yards and bridges at Brenner Pass and in the Po Valley. Frequently the famed Tuskegee Airmen, a squadron made up of black pilots, accompanied Underwood’s squadron on its missions. On bombing runs, part of Underwood’s duty was to be certain all bombs released from the bomb racks properly. If they did not, his responsibility was to push them out of the rack. He could not do this with his parachute on, so it was a very dangerous activity. Fortunately, he never had to do that.
Sometimes a bombing mission was against German troops, and the plane was armed with fragmentation bombs, which were deadly against personnel. Dropping fragmentation bombs was like dropping hand grenades on the troops. On one bomb run, a plane accidentally dropped fragmentation bombs on another plane in the formation, and they exploded upon hitting the plane. Fortunately, the plane made it back to base but with some injuries to crew members.
Underwood’s last few missions were to fly over the retreating German troops and drop leaflets written in German asking them to surrender to our forces. On the first mission to drop leaflets, instructions were not good on how to do it. Before throwing the leaflets from the bomb bay doors, Underwood and his fellow crewmember took the binding from around the leaflets and tried to throw them from the plane. Due to the wind tunnel effect with the bomb bay doors open, all the leaflets flew back inside the plane, and it was a massive cleanup job picking up paper from the interior of the aircraft. This happened on more than one plane so headquarters made it clear that the propeller airflow would break the bindings of the leaflets as they were thrown out of the plane.
The food was not very satisfying at the Farno base as the crews had an overabundance of horsemeat and Spam to eat. Underwood still does not like Spam. As unsatisfactory as the military food was, the Italian people were under much poorer conditions for food. It was not unusual for Underwood and his fellow crewmembers to take extra food and give it to the Italian children through the fence surrounding the base. Boxes of food from home were especially welcome and even though the boxes might be broken and the contents a bit stale, they were still good because the airmen appreciated the ‘love” from home that was also in that box.
When the war in Europe was formally over, on May 8, 1945 Underwood did not have enough points to be released from duty and was retained in Europe for a time. Finally, he was sent home on leave and it took 10 days via Algiers, Morocco, Liberia, Ascension Island, Brazil, and Puerto Rico back to Savannah GA. Underwood’s stop at Ascension Island as a refueling point was precarious as fuel was running out and the Island was not in sight. Finally, after circling for a time, it was sighted and the plane landed.
Upon completion of his 30-day leave, the atomic bomb had been dropped on Japan, and the war was over. Underwood’s final months in the service were spent in Greensboro NC, and he found himself mustering out several of the officers he served with in Europe. Mustering out day arrived for Underwood on December 1, 1945.
After release from the service, he undertook electronic training in Chicago and eventually moved to Reidsville NC. In 1947, he established Underwood’s Radio and TV Service. He continues to operate that business 57 years later, at the same location. Underwood married the former Frances Stadler in 1947 and has a son and daughter and several grandchildren.
He appreciated the close friends he made during the war, and he remains in close contact with them. His WWII friends are still as close as brothers, even 58 years later.
Waynick, James Fletcher
In September 1945, some of the most pleasant words Jimmy Waynick ever heard were these over the loudspeakers on the USS Audubon: “This is your Captain speaking! Coxswain set your course for San Francisco. The war is over!” After almost two years in the US Navy and participation in the invasion of Okinawa, Waynick was going home.
James Waynick was born in Greensboro but lived his entire life in Reidsville except for his time in the Navy. His father was a farm blacksmith and operated a repair shop for the newfangled automobiles that were now appearing in Reidsville. As a young person, Waynick was very interested in all things electrical. He hung around Irving Electric Co. in Reidsville doing odd jobs and picked up some of the electrician skills he used in his life’s work. He built his first ham radio at the age of 13. At Reidsville High School he helped keep things electrical operating, including repairing school clocks so they would run on time.
After graduating from Reidsville High School in 1937, he began work at Irving Electric full time for a salary of $6 per week. After a time with Irving Electric, he received an offer from American Tobacco as an electrician at the handsome rate of $18 per week. He could not refuse the 200% salary increase so he took the job.
Due to the poor health of his father, Waynick helped support his parents until he entered the Navy. After World War II started, draft rules allowed the sole financial supporter of a family to be deferred from military service. All his friends were in the service, and he began to feel a little embarrassed about his deferment even though it was appropriate considering his parents’ plight. In December 1943, he elected not to extend his deferment and was immediately drafted into the service.
Waynick was sent to Camp Croft, SC for processing and as part of the process was asked which branch of the service he was interested in and what qualifications he had for military service. Waynick quickly responded that he was an electrician and wanted to be in the Navy. In three days, he was at the Naval Training Center, Bainbridge, Maryland.
He and the rest of the recruits were stripped down, given a physical examination as well as their fill of “shots”. He put his skivvies back on and was given a duffle bag, which was gradually filled as he walked down a line and was provided with shoes, socks, underwear, uniforms and other items of equipment; all he would need for the next two years of active duty. Waynick could hardly carry his duffle bag after it was full. He was then assigned to a Company and began his basic training.
All recruits had to learn to swim in case a ship went down at sea. His swimming instructor, Ensign Keefer, was a champion swimmer. Waynick just could not get the hang of swimming, but Keefer said Waynick had to swim as well as jump off a 40-foot tower into the water to graduate from basic training. On the last day of basic, Keefer said if Waynick would just climb the tower and climb down the cargo net next to it he would pass him. Waynick went up and Keefer tried to push Waynick off the tower into the water, but Waynick grabbed Keefer and they both went in the water, Keefer with his dress blue uniform on. This “jump” qualified Waynick so the next day, he graduated from basic training. Keefer was not happy.
While in basic training, the recruits were assigned to their specialties. Waynick, as he requested, was assigned as an electrician and sent to Camp Perry VA for a three months course in Navy electrical training. During his duty at Camp Perry, Waynick received a 72-hour pass and went to Reidsville by train. Unfortunately, the nearest train stop to Reidsville was Danville VA. The next stop was Greensboro. The conductor said “Sorry, you have to get off at Danville or Greensboro”. As his girlfriend – wife to be Virginia – was waiting in Reidsville, when the train drew near the Reidsville station; Waynick pulled the emergency stop cord. The conductor found out that the train did stop in Reidsville if you had a determined sailor on board who only had a 72-hour pass.
After his training at Camp Perry, Waynick was assigned to Washington DC for further training. In Washington, along with many other navy men and women in the area, he was invited several times to the mansion of Mrs. Evelyn Walsh McLean, a former owner of the fabulous Hope diamond. She was a widow, owner of the Washington Post newspaper and one of the richest women in the United States but died tragically as a pauper years later. Waynick remembers wonderful parties at her magnificent mansion.
In late 1944, Waynick was transferred to the west coast ultimately to be assigned to the USS Audubon, an attack transport. His train ride to the west coast in December 1944 was a very uncomfortable one. The ancient rail cars had no heat and ragged, uncomfortable seats. On the way, there was a stopover at Salt Lake City, Utah. Waynick visited the Mormon Tabernacle auditorium to see the grand organ as well as other sights. It happened that while in the Tabernacle auditorium he noticed a small man trying to tune the organ. He would play a note and then go up to the organ pipes and make an adjustment. Waynick asked if he could help by playing a note on the organ while the other man made the adjustment. That was satisfactory so Waynick did that. The man introduced himself later as Alexander Schreiner the organist for the Mormon Tabernacle Choir whose tenure lasted 50 years.
The attack transport USS Audubon was commissioned in Astoria, Oregon on December 20, 1944, and Waynick was on the shakedown cruise, which lasted several days. While on the cruise, there was a mysterious tapping on one of the steel plates in the propeller area. To determine the problem, it was necessary to take off a large steel plate covering the entrance to what is called the propeller shaft alley. When the steel plate was removed, to everyone’s astonishment, a woman crawled out who said she had fallen asleep in the shaft area a day or so earlier. Waynick never heard any further explanation.
After minor repairs, the Audubon went to San Francisco to pick up 83 WAVES (women sailors), 3 WAVE officers, and 10 marines to guard them. It was clear that no one would be able to get near the WAVE quarters while they were on the Audubon in transit to Hawaii.
In January, the Audubon sailed to the island of Ulithi, picking up 1350 soldiers and 71 officers plus cargo to join a huge attacking force for the invasion of Okinawa. While on the way to Okinawa, the crew heard Tokyo Rose broadcast from Japan with the popular music of the day as well as propaganda about all the Japanese battle successes. These were fictitious reports, and the listening crew knew it.
There were ships of every description in the attacking force. The Audubon was assigned the task of carrying assault forces near the coast of Okinawa and getting them into the landing craft that would take them to the beach. The men went down cargo nets to the waiting landing craft. If a craft was not in the correct position, the momentum of many men going down the nets forced the lowest ones on the net to drop off into the water. Fortunately, they had life preservers on, which they saved their lives. Then they had to be picked up out of the water to get on another landing craft. In the process, there were incoming Japanese artillery shells as well as Japanese kamikaze (suicide) planes attacking the ships. The noise was deafening with the battleships firing 16-inch guns incessantly and aircraft flying overhead. One suicide plane sank the ship next to Waynick’s.
After the Audubon off-loaded its assault forces, during the next four days it became a first aid ship for wounded men coming off the beaches. Waynick will never forget the carnage he witnessed by way of the injured and dying men that were brought aboard the Audubon. Waynick used a winch to lift men from the landing craft to the Audubon’s deck. A shell from a Japanese plane broke the winch lever so Waynick made one out of a broom handle. Waynick says, “The little part I had to play in this major invasion was horrific to me”.
After taking the wounded men to some safe islands for treatment, the Audubon sailed to San Francisco for repairs and then back to Guadalcanal to ferry troops to the Philippines. During this voyage, USS Audubon crossed the Equator, which called for the time-honored tradition of initiating polliwogs – those who have never crossed the equator- into shellbacks – those who have. As part of the process of initiation as a shellback, sailors dressed in robes such as King Neptune and Davey Jones and other deep-sea figures and carried homemade tridents. They hazed the polliwogs with all sorts of phony accusations and as a final insult dumped them into a pool of kitchen garbage from a chair on a stand next to the “pool”. This was an all-day affair and even the ship’s captain had to be initiated. Waynick remembers the humiliating event well and still has his certificate identifying him as a shellback. This tradition continues today in the Navy.
In the Philippines, the Audubon became part of a task force preparing to invade Japan. Fortunately, the surrender ending WWII was signed before the invasion was necessary.
Waynick finally received his discharge in December 1945, returned to Reidsville, and went into business as an electrician, wiring many of the farm homes in the county for electricity. After a time, he sold this business and reclaimed his position with American Tobacco as Chief Electrician. Upon retiring early from American Tobacco in 1980, he fulfilled a lifelong ambition to join the circus as an electrician. With his wife Virginia’s blessing, he traveled several months of the year, returning to Reidsville in the off-season.
Waynick retired for good at age 69 and actively enjoys his lifelong fascination with the circus, all things electrical, pipe organs, as well as many other interests. He has three children, son Fletcher and daughters, Joan and Betty. His beloved wife Virginia, who was a well-known local artist, passed away in 2001.
Waynick says he saw parts of the world most people never see and is very proud to have served his country during WWII.
Wilkerson, Robert I.
When Bob Wilkerson was assigned to land mine removal school, he knew he would be learning about a serious subject. He had heard that either you passed the land mine removal course, or you were dead. He survived the course but did not enjoy the learning experience.
Wilkerson lived in Virginia for the first 17 years of his life. The family moved to Bluefield WVA after his father was transferred there in 1940. Wilkerson graduated from Bluefield high school in 1942 and immediately applied, and was accepted, at the Virginia Tech branch campus in Bluefield to begin his education in engineering. In November 1942, he signed up for the enlisted army reserve, which allowed him to finish his first year at Virginia Tech before going on active duty. Wilkerson volunteered for the Army Air Corps after his first year at Virginia Tech was completed and was sent to Fort Thomas KY for his induction into active service.
Wilkerson rode a crowded troop train to Miami Beach for his basic training in the Air Corps. His outdoor training in Miami took place on a golf course. His “barracks” was a Miami hotel. Even with the nice conditions, there was not much fun in the military life in Miami Beach. Wilkerson recalls several times when he had KP (kitchen duty) from four am until nine or ten pm. He was better prepared than most men for the rigors of basic training as he had similar experiences when he was active as a boy scout.
After three months of basic training, Wilkerson was given the choice of continuing in Air Corps training or being transferred into the Army Specialized Training Program (ASTP). Wilkerson chose ASTP. The ASTP was established by the United States Army in December 1942 to train and educate academically talented enlisted men as a specialized corps of Army officers during World War II. The plan was to provide a four-year college education over one and one-half years. ASTP soldiers were to serve as Army officers during the war and assist in the restoration of civilian governments in Europe after the war’s end.
Wilkerson joined 400 other students from across the country at Pasadena Junior College for his ASTP training. He went to school for five- and one-half days and had free time from Saturday afternoon through Sunday evening. Being near Hollywood had its advantages. It was not unusual to attend the Hollywood Canteen and interact with movie stars who would talk and dance with servicemen. Churches would open their doors to the servicemen, letting them stay Saturday night in the fellowship hall, serving breakfast on Sunday morning before worship services. Wilkerson was able to attend the Rose Bowl football game in 1944. The following day he and a group of men were allowed to play a game of touch football in the Rose Bowl.
Wilkerson got wind of the impending cancellation of ASTP and heard that all the ASTP students would be assigned to Army infantry units. On a weekend trip to Los Angeles, he went to an Air Corps recruiting station and told the recruiting person his story. He was accepted into the Air Corps and awaiting a call to Air Corps duty while still in ASTP.
The ASTP men were transferred to Brownwood TX and Wilkerson was told that his effort to get in the Air Corps was to no avail. Due to combat needs, the Army disbanded the ASTP program in early 1944. Most of the ASTP soldiers, including Wilkerson, were sent to the Army as privates. Fortunately, he was assigned to an Engineering Battalion in the 13th Armored Division, which was already stationed in Brownwood TX. Wilkerson trained in Brownwood from March 1944 to January 1945 specializing in building bridges, minefield clearance and military construction projects. In March 1945, Wilkerson was sent to Camp Kilmer NJ before embarking to Europe. His unit was put on a liberty ship and started for Europe. One day out, the ship broke down, and it was bobbing like a cork and barely able to return to New York. They were put on USS George Washington and headed for Le Havre France. USS George Washington was a German built ship confiscated by the US during WWI. It was the same ship that had taken Wilkerson’s uncle overseas in WW I. It also took Harry S. Truman overseas, a WW I Army Captain, and later president of the United States.
The hammocks aboard USS George Washington were eight high with 18 inches between them. There was much gambling aboard ship. If there were too many men gambling on one side, the ship would list to that side and the poker games had to be “rearranged’, moving some of them to the other side of the ship to stay on an even keel.
Upon night arrival at Le Havre in January of 1945, Wilkerson’s unit boarded open trucks and were sent to a small village. There, they were put in a large barn in freezing weather with only a bonfire to keep them warm. It was muddy during the day and freezing at night, with not much to do except try to stay warm. This was shortly after the Battle of the Bulge was over and the German army was generally on the run. Fortunately, there was a field kitchen set up for the men, so food was good even though nothing else was.
Wilkerson and some other men were assigned to a mine clearing school at Fecamp, France, the home of the Benedictine order of monks and where the namesake liquor is produced. The Germans had expected the June 6, 1944, D-Day attack at Fecamp, among other places, and had hung over the cliffs, hundreds of artillery shells, which could be detonated by fuses. The town was also full of anti-tank and anti-personnel mines. Wilkerson and his fellow mine clearers had their work cut out for them. It was harrowing to learn to clear mines and more harrowing to clear them from a minefield. Wilkerson poked in the ground with his bayonet looking for mines. A bayonet would not set off an anti-tank mine. However, sometimes anti-personnel mines were buried under an anti-tank mine to kill those removing unexploded anti-tank mines. One had to be very careful!
On the first day they had only cleared an area 20 feet long and 40 feet wide. The next day they used mine detectors, which sped up the process. Eight hundred mines were eventually cleared. The mines were hung over the cliffs near the artillery shells, and all the mines and shells were detonated in one massive explosion. Tiles were broken off roofs and windows blown out of most houses in Fecamp.
After the mine-clearing episode, Wilkerson’s unit was moved to Nancy, France. It had been destroyed. Bodies were still out in the battle fields because the fields were all mined. After removing mines leading to bodies, a ribbon was stretched out to give a safe path to follow for those retrieving the bodies.
His unit experienced a real taste of combat when assigned the task of putting a pontoon bridge over the Rhine River near Düsseldorf. The Germans were surrendering in large numbers but at the same time making a last-ditch defensive effort and killing as many allied soldiers as possible. There were many German 88 anti-aircraft guns in the area to protect industrial sites. The Germans turned the guns down and used them as anti-tank guns firing directly at our tanks with devastating effectiveness. Our forces were bombing and shelling Düsseldorf at the same time and Wilkerson spent much time in a foxhole out of the way of the murderous crossfire with its thunderous noise. Many men were killed. He learned that under the right conditions a person could dig a foxhole very quickly.
The Germans who were doing most of the last ditch fighting before surrender were the young soldiers. The older ones had already surrendered. They were bedraggled, hungry and thoroughly beaten. At one point Wilkerson saw some men in strange looking uniforms walking toward him with their hands up. The Düsseldorf police department had decided to surrender. In another case, two of Wilkerson’s friends were seen approaching with about 200 docile German prisoners in tow. The prisoners presented no problem and were happy to get some good food.
When the operations in Düsseldorf ended, Wilkerson’s unit was sent toward the Alps because our senior officers believed the last stand by the German Army would take place somewhere near the Alps. Wilkerson’s unit headed there but moved so fast they ran out of gas at the Inn River. His unit was ordered to build a bridge over the Inn River on May 1. The next day, orders were to stop building the bridge because the shooting had stopped. Germany officially surrendered May 8, 1945. Wilkerson stayed near Branau, Austria, Hitler’s birthplace, until July 1, 1945. He had limited duties but did play a lot of baseball and rode “liberated” horses at a riding stable the men had set up. On July 1, he rode in a boxcar back to Camp Lucky Strike in France for processing back to the US and transfer to the Far East.
Wilkerson returned to the US in July with a 30-day delay enroute to the Far East. Next, he was going to fight the Japanese. Wilkerson visited friends and family in Roanoke and Bluefield. The atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima while he was in Bluefield. After a transfer to Camp Cook CA and six months of duty, he was released 2/14/1945.
Wilkerson took advantage of the GI bill and finished his engineering course at Virginia Tech, graduating in 1948. After two years at Dan River Mills, he began work at Fieldcrest Mills in 1950 and concluded his career there in 1986 as Manager of Mechanical Engineering. Wilkerson said, “My WW II experience broadened my life considerably and because of the great sacrifices of young men and women during the war, we stopped Hitler from taking over the world. This effort cost many lives, including some of my friends and fellow soldiers.”
Wilkerson and his wife Addie, live active lives in Eden. They have a son and daughter, and they enjoy spending time with their children as well as two grandsons and two granddaughters.
Williams, Ralph R.
Ralph Williams came back from his service in World War II with a deep appreciation of the sacrifices veterans of military service had made for their country. This is demonstrated by the work he has done on behalf of veterans in Rockingham County for many years. Williams is 95 now and residing in Annie Penn Nursing Center. While presently unable to participate in many of his former activities, he is regularly on the phone to local leadership, inquiring about veteran events in which he has long held an interest and previously was a prime mover.
Williams was born in Rockingham County not far from where his home he built in 1949 is located. His father was a tenant farmer, and Williams moved many times depending on the work situation of his father. He attended Rockingham County schools but dropped out of school in 1925 at the age of fourteen. His parents were ill, and he had three younger sisters. The situation required that Williams help support his family. He worked on the farm and did odd jobs for several years that allowed his family to survive those difficult depression years. Williams’s father died in 1935.
From 1935 to 1940 Williams was fortunate to get intermittent work with John Smith and Company in Leaksville when he was not working on the farm. As another “part time job,” Williams joined the National Guard in 1938. Events in Europe caused the NC National Guard to be called to active-duty September 16, 1940, and Williams began his military career as a carpenter for his regiment in Fort Jackson SC because of his woodworking ability.
Congress passed a law in 1941 that allowed anyone 27 years of age or older to be discharged from active duty if they desired. Williams took advantage of the new law and was discharged in September 1941. He returned to North Carolina and got work in Charlotte in construction. The Pearl Harbor attack on December 7, 1941, changed everything. In January 1942, he received notice to return to active duty and go back to his unit in Fort Jackson. He went back as Supply Sergeant but found he was “surplus” in that position so was reassigned to a unit that needed a Supply Sergeant. He was made part of a cadre to help form the 333 Special Service Engineers in Camp Claiborne LA. Professional engineers were recruited from across the US to make up this elite engineering unit. Williams’s job was that of typical supply activity to keep the unit furnished with material necessary to do their job while it was being formed.
The fledgling unit was sent to Toledo OH for six months to be trained to build airstrips, field hospitals and other unusual projects. They were taught how to build projects quickly and to use explosives to clear obstacles such as heavy boulders. In September 1942, Williams returned to NC to get married. He was able to spend three weeks with his bride, Mary and then was gone for three years.
After Toledo, the unit was assigned to Yuma AZ for further training. Williams remembers the signs on hotels in Yuma, which said “Your room free if it rains.” It did not rain while the 333rd was there except the last day. Tents had been packed, and the men slept a very uncomfortable night outside in rain ponchos. It was terribly hot in Yuma. Wind and sandstorms occurred frequently and were so severe that light poles would be blown over. Sand was everywhere, in the food, clothing, eyes, and sandy grit in the mouths of the men. It was a long six months. Pomona CA was the next duty station for two months.
The unit was still training while sending certain men out to combat zones. While in Pomona, Williams was able to go into Los Angeles with some frequency and visited the USO for inexpensive evenings of entertainment.
The 333rd was ordered to New York for assignment overseas in mid-1943. The trip to England was idyllic for three days. Then, storms hit, and there were 12 days of discomfort. Most men were seasick and could not eat. The seas were so rough; there was constant cleanup in the mess hall of spilled trays of food. Williams had look out duty for two of every eight hours, standing on the bow with binoculars to look for German submarines. This was a very wet job with a pitching deck and heavy waves.
The 333rd arrived in Southampton England. Almost every US service member in England, including the 333rd personnel, was being constantly trained for an invasion, which all knew would be coming but they did not know when. The invasion took place June 6, 1944.
The 333rd arrived at the port of Cherbourg, France in late June 1944. Allied bombers had decimated the port. William’s Engineering unit was assigned the task of cleaning up the port so allied shipping could readily get in and out. The cleanup took place while German bombers were overhead trying to stymie the cleanup and help retake the port. The 333rd worked 24 hours a day under extreme pressure to get the job finished as soon as possible. It was open for very limited business in a matter of days, but it took seven months to complete the work. Ironically, German prisoners of war helped in the cleanup.
From Cherbourg, the 333rd followed allied infantry, staying a few miles behind the front lines rebuilding bridges, repairing railroad tracks and train marshalling yards. In one instance, William’s unit built a railroad bridge over the Main River in Germany in 10 days. The motto of the 333rd Engineers was “The difficult we do immediately, the impossible takes a little longer.”
The most sobering sight Williams saw was that of the Buchenwald concentration camp. Williams saw dead bodies piled up like cordwood. He saw the ovens and the gas chamber “showers.” To this day, Williams does not understand how man can treat other human beings as was done in Nazi Germany, but he knows it happened because he saw it with his own eyes.
Williams says he did not fire one bullet in WW II, but he worked harder than he ever worked in his life, many times around the clock. Other days, it was like a civilian job with regular hours. Statistics show that for every soldier in the front lines there are nine others behind the lines supporting him or her. Williams was one of the supporting soldiers who helped win the war by doing “behind the lines” work that had to be done. He remembers the great group of men making up the 333rd Engineers who were brought together quickly to do a job that would be considered impossible by many standards. The chance occurrence of being classified “surplus” in his original unit in Fort Jackson kept him out of front-line combat.
After the war ended in Europe, Williams stayed for five months in the Army of Occupation. He was near an air base and had many opportunities to go for “joy rides” in military aircraft. He saw much of the European continent from the air. He also had the opportunity to do sightseeing so enjoyed his five months on occupation duty. He finally arrived home in late 1945, to his bride Mary, whom he had not seen for three years.
Williams became a building contractor as well as founding and later selling Rockingham Realty, which is still in business today under other ownership. He has tried to retire but there always seems to be that job that needs to be done that he can do – and he does it. His beloved wife Mary died in 2003.
Ralph Williams’s legacy, beyond his dedicated work at Bethlehem United Methodist Church, is on behalf of veterans in the county. He is the chair of the Wentworth Veteran’s Park Committee and has organized the memorial and veteran’s day events there for years. He is chaplain for the Monroeton VFW and is regularly involved in military funerals in the county, giving a eulogy and thanks for the service of veterans. He is an active member and past leader of the Disabled American Veterans, The Veterans of Foreign Wars and American Legion. Williams has been a tireless advocate for veterans in Rockingham County for years and deserves our gratitude.
Williams remarks, “I lost time in my career due to World War II, but I did what
had to be done.”
Wisecup, Martin
It was a beautiful Sunday morning December 7, 1941, at Wheeler Field in Oahu, Hawaii. Martin Wisecup had risen early from a peaceful sleep and was looking forward to a good breakfast in the 78th Pursuit Squadron mess hall. Sunday breakfasts were unusual because squadron members were able to request a special breakfast of ham, eggs, bacon, pancakes, and coffee, all cooked to order. What he did not expect to have with his breakfast were the sound and fury of exploding bombs and machine gun fire from Japanese aircraft during a 7:55 a.m. surprise attack on our forces on Hawaii.
Wisecup was born in a rural farming area of Brown County, Ohio and attended a one-room elementary school. When he graduated from Manchester, Ohio high school, there were no jobs locally for unskilled new graduates, so he decided to see the world. Wisecup enlisted in the Army on October 10, 1939, and specifically requested the Army Air Corps and an overseas assignment. Fortunately, the Air Corps had an opening in Hawaii. Not long after enlisting and indoctrination, he boarded the US Army Transport “Republic” in New York and went through the Panama Canal on to Hawaii.
Upon arrival in Hawaii, he was sent on to Wheeler Field with the 78th Pursuit Squadron to take basic training as well as advanced training as an armament specialist. His specialty was maintaining aircraft machine guns, loading them with ammunition, sighting in the guns, as well as attaching bomb racks to the planes and loading them with bombs. In those days, the Ford Tri Motor transport was used to pull targets that pilots would shoot at to improve accuracy. Wisecup would reel out the target sleeves about 200 yards behind the Ford Tri Motor and reel it in when practice was finished. Each pilot had bullets in their machine guns, painted in a unique color, which would leave a mark on the target sleeve to gauge the accuracy of a pilot.
Wisecup’s quarters were in one of several long concrete buildings with a mess hall and supply offices on the first floor and an open barracks room on the second floor. He had a cot, footlocker, and a small place to hang his clothes. Each building held a squadron’s unmarried enlisted men along with their top sergeant. Officers were in separate officer’s quarters. The few married enlisted men also had separate quarters. Sports took up a lot of time in those days. Boxing and softball were especially popular. Wisecup also would make very acceptable wine for his friends using native fruits. While life in peacetime military was quiet in beautiful Hawaii, most of the men wished to see some action. That wish was granted on December 7, 1941.
On December 7, before 8 a.m., Wisecup was on his way downstairs from the second floor of his building, looking forward to a wonderful breakfast in the mess hall. On the way, he heard tremendous noise outside and thought it was US Navy pilots practicing their dive-bombing. However, the noise was too loud and sustained for that. He saw the building next to his explode and later learned several pilots had been killed while at breakfast. When he looked outside, he saw the rising sun emblem on the Japanese planes so knew it was an attack. The headscarves the Japanese pilots wore were clearly visible in the open cockpits. He heard another bomb go off close by and began to run back into the barracks to get his 45-caliber pistol. Knowing that the 1918 pistol ammunition was so old that it rarely fired well, he gave up that idea. His cot was covered with fine plaster falling from the ceiling. The door of the barracks blew off from the concussion of a bomb landing nearby and barely missed Wisecup. Wisecup went outside again and noticed at the non-commissioned officer housing, many people were outside in their bathrobes watching the unbelievable event.
Wisecup went up a slope toward Schofield Barracks to a location where some bulldozers had taken out trees and expected to get into one of the holes where tree roots had been. They were full of people, with room for no more, so Wisecup sat down with his back to a tree and from a high vantage point watched the attack in disbelief. Several Japanese planes were in the form of a big circle in the sky and were coming around repeatedly to drop bombs and to machine gun the US warplanes lined up neatly on Wheeler Field. In those days, the fuselages of some aircraft were primarily made from magnesium or aluminum, which can burn in a spectacular way. As the fires started and gasoline from ruptured fuel tanks exploded, many aircraft simply disintegrated with only the engine identifying that it had been an airplane. No guns or ammunition were in the planes so even if planes had taken off, they could not have been an effective defense against the attack.
The surprise attack was designed to destroy the US Navy big ships including aircraft carriers, as well as the fighters at Wheeler Field and bombers at Hickam Field. Fortunately for the United States, there were no aircraft carriers in the area. In about 30 minutes, the attack on Wheeler Field stopped but Wisecup could see the smoke from the Pearl Harbor anchorage rising high in the sky. After the attack, some of our B 17 bombers coming in from the west coast were misidentified and met with anti-aircraft fire from our gunners. That incoming flight of B 17 bombers, coincidentally, was part of the problem in determining whether an attack was taking place.
Wisecup’s problem was that he wanted to report to his unit but was confused because this was Sunday and on Monday, he was scheduled to report to the newly formed 73rd Fighter Squadron. Men were being told to get out machine guns for defense and to stay on guard all night for an expected Japanese landing on Oahu. No one knew the Japanese forces were already headed away from Hawaiian waters. The only available army tanks were set up in defensive positions, but they were only training tanks. A 50-caliber bullet would go completely through a training tank. As there was little official communication, the men talked among themselves regarding what they would do if a Japanese invasion came with overwhelming force. The Air Corps men agreed they would simply have to join some army unit as a rifleman or else escape to the hills around Wheeler Field and engage in guerilla warfare.
Due to the confusion, Wisecup was reported as “missing in action” to his parents. On December 8, the men were allowed to mail letters home to say they were survivors. Wisecup’s letter was not delivered to his parent’s home until mid-February.
Fighter Squadron. Wisecup finally was integrated into the 73rd and began work on the planes that were salvageable. He took it upon himself to count all the planes destroyed on the field and determined that 138 were beyond repair.
Shortly after the Battle of Midway and after several months of aircraft repair work at Wheeler Field, his squadron was sent to Midway Island. Conditions were poor on Midway. Most of the men came down with dysentery due to unsanitary conditions caused by the multitude of flies and birds. The men immediately started to build a mess hall but had no window screening. In desperation, they used mesh aerial target practice sleeves as screening to keep the flies out of the mess hall. It was very expensive screening.
Midway was a base for anti-submarine patrols and as a refueling stop for planes bombing Wake Island to retake it. Wisecup was active as a support person to accomplish those goals. After about 6 months on Midway, Wisecup returned to Hawaii and continued in his armament work until mid-1944 when his unit was carried to Saipan on an aircraft carrier as part of a huge convoy. The convoy arrived at Saipan in late June 1944 but before the island was secure. The convoy anchored offshore and that night had a submarine scare. All ships were blacked out but after “all clear” sounded many of the men came up on deck and lit cigarettes, which in total darkness were bright enough to lead a Japanese kamikaze plane toward the ship, narrowly missing the ship Wisecup was on, but hitting the next ship. The next day, Wisecup was told to go ashore with some men and was successful in capturing an inland airfield so planes could leave the carrier and be based ashore for action; one of the few times Air Corps men were engaged in ground combat. The island was devastated and Wisecup’s group was dodging shells from the Japanese as well as shells from our ships. In capturing the island, over 30,000 Japanese troops were killed. The United States had over 16,000 casualties, 13,000 of whom were Marines.
After being in Saipan for four months, the 73rd was transferred to Iwo Jima for more combat duty. During this time, Wisecup received a 30-day furlough and returned home to get married. In mid-1945, Tech Sergeant Wisecup received orders to go back to the states after 5 years in the Pacific. He objected, but to no avail, and was sent to Florida as a support person in the training of bomber pilots. When the war was over in August of 1945, Wisecup was discharged from Camp Atterbury, Indiana and went on the GI Bill of Rights to Berea College in Ohio to major in Agriculture. After graduating, he worked teaching agricultural skills to war veterans. Wisecup later bought a farm and operated that until 1971 when he went to work for the Department of Housing and Urban Development as a Housing Management Supervisor. Now divorced, a transfer brought him to Greensboro in 1974, and he retired from HUD in 1992.
Today, Wisecup has four sons and two daughters living across the country and he spends time visiting them and his grandchildren as well as maintaining his 11-acre farm in Reidsville. He still makes a great homemade Elderberry wine!
He is proud to have served his country but is also deeply saddened due to many friends having been killed during the war.
Woodlieff, Jack Elwood
During a scene in the movie “Patton”, Lieutenant General George Patton, is shown in a tent paying last respects to the dead body of his former aide, Captain Richard Jenson. Not portrayed is another person in that tent, Sergeant Jack Elwood Woodlief of Leaksville NC.
Jack Woodlief did not know what to expect when he joined the US Army in January of 1942. He had heard news of the attack on Pearl Harbor over the radio at Chandler’s Drug Store in downtown Leakesville on December 7, 1941, and many of his friends had decided to sign up. On Monday, December 8, he thumbed his way to Danville VA to join the Army. For reasons he does not recall, the recruiter would not let him join and told him to come back later. Woodlief remembers walking about 10 miles on the way home to Leaksville before he was able to flag down a bus. He went back to Danville in early January and was allowed to join. A few days later he was in Camp Lee VA for uniforms and processing and on to Ft. Bragg NC for basic training and additional training in field artillery.
While at Ft. Bragg, Woodlief had a training sergeant who was very tough on the men. One day while Woodlief was on guard duty the sergeant walked past the guard post and Woodlief shouted “Halt! Advance and be recognized.” He then told the sergeant to show his identification and to back up 6 paces. After reviewing the identification, he threw it on the ground in front of the sergeant and said, “You are free to go.” The next day, the sergeant told Woodlief “You were rough on me yesterday and I compliment you for it. You did just right.”
Woodlief stayed for about 7 months at Ft. Bragg in field artillery but wanted to get into something else. He did not know what. About this time, Woodlief learned of the formation of the 47th Quartermaster Unit, Graves Registration in Fort Meade MD. He requested duty with that unit and was assigned to Ft Meade for training. This duty involves that of funeral director, embalmer, grave digger, hiker and detective all in one. It is work that is hard and unpleasant but must be done in wartime. After three months intensive training, in January of 1943 Woodlief was assigned to Oran, North Africa for duty, after the El Alamein victory by the British and the invasion of North Africa by the US Army in November 1942.
Woodlief’s first assignment in February was to go to the Kasserine Pass area where the German Afrika Korps had broken through and then were defeated a few weeks later by Allied forces. He was to search for bodies of US soldiers and bring them back for burial. Many bodies were recovered but while climbing the mountains surrounding the Pass, he came across a croquet mallet which he retained as an unusual souvenir for years.
In the early part of Woodlief’s time in North Africa there was no civilian labor available to do the backbreaking work of digging graves in the hard clay, so he and his unit had to do it themselves. Woodlief wore only a pair of shorts and a hat, and it was not long before his skin was burned almost black from the intense North African sun. Birds were dying from the heat. Later a labor pool was formed which relieved his unit from digging the graves. Mattress covers were used for burial bags. It was not unusual to see a North African Arab use a stolen mattress cover as a robe. Bodies were buried in temporary gravesites with wooden crosses and small metal markers that Woodlief made using metal embossing tools. Sometimes the grave sites were within 3 miles of the front lines but as time and battle action permitted, the cemeteries were beautified with some landscaping and a permanent cross or Star of David at each grave.
Woodlief’s responsibility was to identify the bodies of the dead soldiers through the dog tags worn. If these were missing, then dental impressions or fingerprints were used. If all else failed, then the records of the units were combed for missing soldiers and identification was made through birth marks, moles, hair color or anything that would help identify a corpse. Detective work of sorts was part of the job. It was not unusual for Woodlief to receive a body which was stark naked. The North Africans had no reservations about stealing clothes and dog tags from dead soldiers on the battlefield.
One day while working on a body, Woodlief noticed a bulge in the front pocket of the dead soldier. He put his hand in the pocket to pull out the object and accidentally pulled the pin on a hand grenade. Fortunately, the pants were so tight that the actuating lever was not released. Woodlief was able to pull the hand grenade out and throw it in a pit where it exploded harmlessly.
If dead German soldiers were found, the same care was given them relating to identification and other handling. However, frequently the Germans booby trapped their dead soldiers to kill men of the Graves Registration units, so this was a hazard of the work.
One day the body of Captain Richard Jenson, aide to General Patton, was brought in and there were no marks on his body. He had died of a broken neck. While on a courier mission, his jeep was attacked by a German bomber and Jenson leaped out of the jeep to the side of the road. A bomb landed near him and the concussion of the blast, and the movement of his helmet broke his neck. It was caused by the helmet being strapped under his chin. Patton had personally given the order that all helmets were to be strapped under the chin in good military fashion. The order was changed after Jenson’s death, so straps were worn to the back of the neck. This allowed the helmet to come off in event of concussion from a bomb or artillery explosion.
Woodlief was involved in preparing Captain Jenson’s body for viewing and was on duty when General Patton arrived in his command car at the viewing tent. Patton entered the tent while Woodlief stood at attention. Patton said, “At ease, soldier.” Patton took his helmet off and kneeled by Jenson’s body with his prayer book open and began praying for his dead aide with his hand on Jenson’s chest. Tears were streaming down General Patton’s face and he paused to cut a lock of hair from Jenson’s head and put it in his prayer book. It was a very emotional moment for Woodlief, and he will never forget it. General Patton rose and spoke to Woodlief saying “You are doing a good job, soldier” and left. Woodlief attended Captain Jenson’s funeral the next day and received a handshake and a compliment for his work from General Patton.
As the war progressed across North Africa Woodlief followed and went as far as Tunis before getting orders to go to Italy immediately after the US invasion at the Gulf of Salerno in Italy on September 9, 1943. As his unit progressed up into northern Italy, action was a little quieter, so Woodlief and his friends asked his Lieutenant if they could commandeer an empty little house in the mountains close to base for their living quarters rather than a tent. The request was approved and the group set up housekeeping for about two months in this mountain house. The house had a bomb hole in the roof which was repaired with a large sheet of canvas. The fireplace worked and everything was cozy. Near the house was a hostel where visiting celebrities stayed. Woodlief saw Walter Cronkite, Eric Severeid and Ernie Pyle who stayed at the hostel at one time or another. Phil Spitalny and his “All Girl Orchestra” also were there and gave a full performance for 12 soldiers including Woodlief
One day in northern Italy, a soldier came to the cemetery where Woodlief was working and asked to look around. Woodlief noticed he had stopped and was kneeling and sobbing at one grave marker. He had stumbled upon his brother’s grave marker and did not even know his brother was overseas in combat.
As the war wound down, word came that many soldiers in Europe would be going to the Pacific theater. However, upon returning by ship to New York, Woodlief found out he would be leaving the Army because he had enough points. He was discharged at Fort Bragg and arrived home in Leaksville at 3 PM in early September 1945 and greeted his family after being gone 32 months. One of the first things he did was take a walk up to the “Boulevard” to see old friends and get the feel of civilian life again.
Woodlief was married to Earline when he returned from service, they had no children and lived their entire life in Eden. He says his experience in WW II made him grow up very fast. He treasures his experience and the dear friends he made but would not “pay a dime” to repeat it.
Zeigler, George E.
Critical to the success of any military campaign are those who supply the resources necessary to wage war. George Zeigler was a US Navy officer during World War II who helped earn the Allied victory by building ships that carried men and material to combat zones around the world.
Zeigler was born in Thomasville GA but moved to Columbus GA at the age of 14. After graduating from Columbus High School, he received an appointment to the US Naval Academy. A failed eye examination prevented his admission to the Academy, so Zeigler applied to Georgia Tech where he earned a degree in Mechanical Engineering June 9, 1941.
During his senior year at Tech, he learned that the US Navy was seeking Engineers. Zeigler fulfilled his long-held interest in the Navy by applying for a commission. He received his commission July 1, 1941, just two weeks after graduating from Georgia Tech. Conveniently, Zeigler’s first two months of duty were at Georgia Tech where he received his uniforms as well as indoctrination into the Navy. At the end of two months, the officer engineers were divided into three groups for further assignment. The men in Zeigler’s group were sent to various navy yards to be involved in ship construction.
On September 3, 1941, Zeigler reported for duty at the Norfolk Navy Yard, Portsmouth VA, assigned to the Construction Department. It was an exciting time for this new Ensign in the Navy Engineering Corps. The battleship USS Alabama was just being completed, and Zeigler eagerly explored every part of her. Although the United States was at peace, the Norfolk shipyard was on a wartime basis with tight security. Europe was at war, and this was clear to Zeigler as he witnessed the repair work being done to the battle-damaged British aircraft carrier HMS Illustrious at the Norfolk Navy Yard.
On December 7, 1941, Zeigler was at the movies and in the lobby. He heard a sailor shouting and swearing about the Japanese sneak attack on Pearl Harbor. Most patrons of the theater thought the sailor was drunk but of course found out rather quickly the news was accurate. Zeigler got into uniform and immediately went to the shipyard. He got no other information except that the attack reports were true. On Monday December 8, we were officially at war.
On December 8, Zeigler was named Assistant Ship Superintendent on the USS Santee, a small aircraft carrier and the USS Russell, a destroyer. On December 10, Zeigler went out on sea trials of USS Santee. There were German submarines in the area but no problems during the trials.
Living conditions were not very desirable in Portsmouth VA as the shipyard was extremely busy and housing was limited. Many shipyard workers were making more money than they ever dreamed of due to long workweeks with overtime pay. We were at war, jobs were plentiful, and pay was good. The shipyard was on a 24/7 production schedule. Zeigler worked six or seven days a week depending on the needs. He used a bicycle to get around the shipyard during the day. Surprisingly, so did the Admiral in charge, often in a full-dress white uniform. Zeigler also had duty every few weeks when he would be on call 24 hours that day. His “duty” day sometimes did not end until the early hours of the next morning due to ship production going 24 hours a day. Sleep was a bonus.
Several major combatant ships headed for the Pacific theater came in for fitting of 20 mm gun mounts to provide additional protection against Japanese air attacks. The USS Russell was one of the ships going to the Pacific. Zeigler oversaw its reconfiguration by removing torpedo tubes and adding 20 mm gun mounts. When Zeigler first reported to Norfolk Navy Yard it took 2 years to build a destroyer. Due to the needs of the Navy, that time had to be reduced so outsourcing of major ship components was done. Huge assemblies built elsewhere were brought into the yard and put on a ship, saving months of work at the shipyard.
On February 16, 1942, USS Alabama was launched. Zeigler was involved in improving the technique by which the tallow lubricant was applied to the “ways” before launching a ship. Tallow was the traditional lubricant to help the ship slide into the water, but it was difficult to apply. Zeigler helped improve the procedure.
One week after the Alabama launch, Zeigler was assigned to the US Naval Academy for a 30-week course on Naval Architecture – ship design. Life was good at the Naval Academy. He lived with three fellow students. It was a tough course, but the schedule allowed time for weekend sailing on the Severn River. A maid cleaned his living quarters and prepared good meals.
After the course at Annapolis, Zeigler received orders that sent him to Maryland Dry Dock Company in Baltimore MD. At the age of 24 as Ship Superintendent and Hull Officer, Zeigler had a great deal of responsibility and was intensely interested in his work. He was in a stressful environment where lives depended on how well he did his job. Zeigler’s responsibility was to watch the progress of construction and repair of vessels to be certain the Navy was getting what it was paying for from the contractor.
It was clear how the changing priorities of the war determined the types of ships worked on at Maryland Dry Dock Company. Attack Transports were needed to take troops to land on the remote islands of the Pacific. Tankers were needed to refuel the ships around the world. Transport ships were needed to carry supplies to the troops. Repair ships were needed to keep the ships in good operating condition. Motor Torpedo Boat tenders were needed in the Pacific to repair the PT boats, which harassed the Japanese Navy. All Maryland Dry Dock ships had a role to play in the war effort.
Construction was an intense process. There was rarely enough time to do a job “by the book”. In many cases, changes to designs had to be made on the job and the official drawings of the ship were changed to conform to the reality of construction. Many things could not wait for official approval because the speed of construction would not allow it. One day while walking by a welder, Zeigler was asked to hold a piece of material while being welded. He did it and was happy to do so as it saved precious minutes for the welder.
While getting material to build ships, sometimes the material could not be obtained on time as a mysterious higher priority project got first call on the material. Not until the Atomic bomb was dropped did Zeigler learn the mysterious project was the Manhattan Project leading to the construction of the atomic bomb.
When the war was over in Europe, things changed dramatically. The shipyard began operating on a five-day week instead of seven. Decisions had to be made concerning which ships to finish and those where construction should be stopped. When victory over Japan was declared further issues came to the fore. The question was which ships to decommission, which to scrap and which to put into “mothballs” i.e. put aside in a manner where they could be reactivated. Several ships not too far along in construction were changed to general merchant hulls so they could be sold to civilian shipping companies.
Zeigler was about to be released from active duty in early 1946 when he inquired of a friend in the Bureau of Ships in Washington about observers needed to assess ship damage during Operation Crossroads (the Bikini Atoll atomic bomb tests). The friend said Zeigler could be a person to help do that job if he wanted to do so. He had to agree to extend his time in the Navy until the tests and evaluation were completed.
Zeigler agreed and in May 1946 was on his way to Bikini Atoll in the Pacific as an observer to the atomic bomb tests. These would be the fourth and fifth bombs that were to be exploded since the invention of the atomic bomb. On July 1, 1946, there would be an explosion in the atmosphere and on July 23 an underwater explosion. Zeigler’s job was to help evaluate the damage caused by the explosions to obsolete US ships and foreign captured ships as well as guns, tanks and other major military equipment. There were about 100 ships and 25,000 people involved in the project.
The first explosion was 17 miles away from the observation point and formed the classic mushroom cloud. Many ships sank and all of them were damaged. The heat and thunder of the blast took 90 seconds to reach the ship Zeigler was on. Surprisingly, Zeigler remembers no sound from the blast. He was told to face the outside bulkhead (outer wall) of the ship he was on and to cover his eyes with his arms. The protective goggles were not considered sufficient to watch the fireball without risk of blindness. Even so, he remembers the impression of a great light from the explosion. When he turned around to look, he remembers many of the ships with a gray “plume” over them. This was caused by the great suction from the explosion pulling debris from the ship out the funnels and from other ruptures in the hull. After a long day, Zeigler would write up a lengthy report from the day’s findings and have it typed up in the wee hours so it could be sent to higher authority early the next day.
On July 23, the routine was the same except the observers were allowed to watch the underwater explosion from 11 miles away using safety goggles. The violent shock could be felt through the water and of course, untold fish were killed and surfaced from the explosion. Again, ships were sunk and heavily damaged. The only ship that withstood the blasts was a floating concrete repair dock. The radioactive contamination made it necessary to scuttle most ships still afloat. Some were returned to the United States for further study but eventually were sunk.
Zeigler finished his Bikini project reports and was released from active duty on August 30, 1946, but with 101 days of leave, his official day of separation was December 9, 1946.
His first significant job after the service was for several years with the Kendall Company, a textile manufacturer. In 1964, he moved to Eden and began work as an engineer at Fieldcrest Mills. He completed his working career at Fieldcrest as Manager of the Mechanical Development Department, retiring in 1982.
Zeigler is married to his wife Betty, and they have two children and three grandchildren. He and Betty remain active in the Eden community. Zeigler states, “the experience I gained during WWII was invaluable, and I was happy to serve”.