Adkins, Donald V.
In Vietnam air combat, from 50 feet above the ground to an altitude of 2000 feet is the “dead zone”. You had to fly a helicopter below 50 feet from the ground to surprise the enemy or else over 2000 feet altitude, which was outside the effective range of small arms fire. You did not survive in the dead zone. Donald V. Adkins avoided the dead zone and survived his 750 Vietnam combat missions as a helicopter pilot to enable him to later retire with many honors from the Army.
Upon graduation from high school in Charleston WVA, Adkins enrolled at Marshall University on an athletic scholarship, participating in football, wrestling, and track. His father, who was a World War II veteran, encouraged the military life, so Adkins joined the Army ROTC. He was obligated to two years of active duty upon graduation. Shortly after graduation from Marshall, he was commissioned as a second lieutenant and assigned to an Armor (tank) unit in Fort Knox, KY. It was only four months later when he was sent to Korea, assigned to the Seventh Infantry Division to assist in guarding the two-mile wide demilitarized zone on the 38th parallel between North and South Korea. On the way to Korea, while waiting in an airport, Adkins heard John Foster Dulles, US Secretary of State; say, “If necessary, we will fight to the last man in Korea”. Adkins and his fellow soldiers looked at each other and remarked, “He is talking about us”.
When not on the DMZ border, Adkins was assigned as reconnaissance platoon leader, commanding two tanks, and five machine gun jeeps doing “war games” and training exercises. His mission was to find the enemy and suppress their activity.
Adkins had been married to Jane for a year when assigned to Korea and she could not officially join him for the thirteen-month assignment. She did come over as a “tourist” however, and lived in an apartment in Seoul. Adkins’ first daughter was born in Korea.
After his 13-month Korea duty, Adkins was able to choose his next assignment to Fort Knox KY, training soldiers in tank operations. Upon returning to Fort Knox, Adkins decided to make the Army his career and applied for a regular commission.
Adkins remarked that the worst job in a tank is that of “gunner”. The other tank crew members can look out a hatch or slit opening but the loader cannot see outside from his position except through an optical viewfinder. The confined tank space can cause problems for a crewmember who is not psychologically suited for the task. There is much foam padding inside a tank, but crew members still must wear head protection for the frequent jolts and bumps. Firing a gun is very dangerous in a tank. A crewmember could be crushed by the gun’s recoil if he is not in the proper position.
After receiving his regular commission, Adkins applied for Airborne and Ranger training – a 13-week course. This was both physically and emotionally demanding. It included hand-to-hand and bayonet combat training. Several men dropped out before completion of the courses. The instructors were known to say “Completion of the course is a matter of mind over matter – we don’t mind and you don’t matter.” Going five days without sleep and food, except what could be dug up or found growing, worked on a man’s mind more than the physical aspects of the training. Earning a Ranger badge is an extraordinary achievement.
The airborne portion of the training included that of building up the whole body, especially the legs, as well as practicing the acrobatic part of the landing, which allows a person to absorb the shock over his whole body. The instructors joked that all parachutes were guaranteed, saying, “If a parachute does not open, you can always come back and get another one”. After the required five jumps, Adkins earned his parachutist wings. This, not being enough for Adkins, he volunteered to attend a jungle-training course in Panama. This taught him how to navigate and survive in primitive conditions.
Upon return to Fort Knox, Adkins applied for flight school; first at Fort Rucker, Alabama as a fixed wing observation pilot and later to Fort Walters Texas for helicopter training. He graduated in October 1962 in the middle of the Cuban Missile Crisis and was assigned a special command going into Cuba as part of an attack force. These orders were countermanded, and he returned to Fort Knox to an Advanced Armor course. Germany was his next duty station for two years as Adjutant of an Aviation Battalion. About this time in 1966, combat in Vietnam was heating up. Pilots qualified in the “Huey” helicopter were needed badly in Vietnam. Adkins was not trained in the Huey so was sent to a quick instruction course. His instructor told Adkins that he “could not fail” the course because he was needed in Vietnam. Adkins received orders to the First Cavalry Division in Vietnam for one year, arriving on 8/11/66 at Pleiku. Upon arrival, he observed ambulances moving about and wounded being treated – not a good omen. Adkins was promptly sent to An Khe, his base camp, called a Landing Zone, where he would live the next year. His new home was a tent.
Captain Adkins was put in charge of a scout platoon consisting of ten OH 13 light observation helicopters. These had two seats and a bubble canopy with machine guns on either side. His job was to find the enemy. The night before the mission, he would be briefed and then go to bed. He would get up before daylight, eat a good breakfast, and look at maps showing recent trails where Viet Cong were traveling. If he found VC, he would call in the lift helicopters with their troops to deal with the enemy. If much enemy activity was found he would fly for his limit of 2 hours and 40 minutes of fuel, return, refuel, and go out again until the problems were handled – that sometimes was from dawn to dusk. Then came the reports of the day’s activity to mission interrogators before concluding the day’s work. Every day was the same. The way Adkins kept up with the day of the week was; each Monday he had to take a large malaria “horse pill” in addition to the small one he took every day. Worship services did not help him remember because services could be held any day of the week due to the chaplain’s erratic schedule.
The same ground was fought over several times during Adkins’ time in Vietnam. In September of 1966, he was sent to Phan Thiet near Saigon to clear out enemy strongholds. The base always had razor wire around the perimeter and guards on duty, to watch for infiltrators. Adkins typically had “first light” and “last light” missions. The first light missions frequently caught the VC guerrillas still marching to their destination. Sometimes smoke from breakfast fires gave away their location for later attack by our forces. Last light missions were flown to keep the enemy from advancing near the base for a night attack. Flights had to be close to the ground to see the enemy in the jungle. Many times Adkins’ helicopter skids almost hit the treetops. Sometimes, he could not tell where the enemy was until he was fired upon.
In his cavalry troop, there were scout helicopters, gunships, lift ships, and platoons of infantry. The scouts would find the enemy; lift helicopters would take the troops to the enemy with fire support from gunships. Adkins stayed in Phan Thiet until December 1966 and returned to troop headquarters where he was promoted to Major and made Troop Commander. Adkins then began flying gun ship missions. Adkins’ Huey gunship had mini guns like Gatling guns on both sides capable of firing 5000 rounds per minute. It had 14 rockets, which were fired two at a time by aiming the helicopter at the target. Some gunships also had grenade launchers.
The cooperation with the Air force was superb. Adkins could call in B-52 strikes on large targets he found, and the sensation was similar to an earthquake when the bombs struck their target. The bombers could obliterate a square mile of countryside. It was routine that civilians be warned of the impending strikes so they could evacuate the area.
Adkins was often in the position of helping his fellow soldiers escape from dangerous situations. On one mission, two helicopters had been shot down and Adkins put himself in an exposed position while hovering over the downed helicopters, suppressing enemy fire as other helicopters came to rescue the crew. Adkins himself was shot down twice. The first time, he was rescued by an Air Force helicopter and the second time by an infantry platoon, which provided security to escape. The medals and commendations Adkins earned are testimony to his valor under fire.
One of the most difficult problems was identifying the enemy. Viet Cong guerrillas would live inconspicuously in the villages but while friendly today, tomorrow they would try to kill you. Some of the VC were only 14 years old and some of the VC women were tougher fighters than the men. Adkins had no animosity toward the Vietnamese people per se and liked some of the civilians very much. However, the atrocities he heard about made him eager to rid the earth of the enemy who could do such things.
Adkins had opportunity to take rest and recreation leave to Hawaii while in Vietnam and Jane could have traveled to be with him but they elected not to do so. As difficult as it was the first time he had to say goodbye to Jane as he left for combat, it would be doubly difficult now that he knew what awaited him upon his return to Vietnam. He did finally take a few personal days off and his destination was wherever the “next airplane” was headed. It happened to be Penang, Malaysia where he enjoyed a brief respite from combat.
The Ahn Lo valley was called the valley of death. Nothing lived there because it had been bombed and fought over until no living thing survived. When Adkins was sent home after his year in Vietnam, it sickened him to hear of later battles in that same valley where some of his men had been killed while capturing it.
Adkins is proud to say that his unit never left a man behind. Every crewmember down was rescued and brought to safety. All bodies of those killed in action were also recovered. One of Adkins’ most heart wrenching duties was to write home to the wives and parents of those killed in action.
Adkins is proud of the young soldiers he served with. Without exception, they did a good job in an unpopular war and would not let their friends down in very trying circumstances.
Adkins completed his duty in Vietnam and enjoyed a happy homecoming with his family, one of whom was an 18-month-old child who did not know “daddy”. Adkins career continued with assignments including Command and General Staff School, Force Development in the Pentagon (obtaining a master’s degree in systems management while there), Physical Education Instructor at West Point, Commander of an Air Cavalry Squadron at Ft. Bragg and Recruiting Duty in WVA. He was then offered an assignment in Germany but because of his family needs decided to retire and take a position with Morehead High School as ROTC Commander, and where he later became Athletic Director. He retired a second time after serving as principal at Holmes Middle School.
Adkins appreciates every day and is proud of his career as a soldier. It helps put life in perspective for him. In Vietnam, every decision he made caused someone to live or die. He vowed never to let life’s small problems disturb him. In comparison to combat, all other problems he has faced since then have been small ones
Lieutenant Colonel Adkins flew 750 combat missions, earned the Silver Star, Distinguished Flying Cross, and 30 Air Medals, one for valor, among other medals. All the awards commended Adkins bravery and valor under fire. He still serves his community in significant ways and continues an active life. He and wife Jane also enjoy being with their six children and their families, including seven grandchildren.
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.
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, 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!
Clark, James E. Jr.
Jim Clark Junior’s father was a marine. This accounts for the fact that he was born in Quantico VA, a home base for marines. Jim Jr. liked military life and aspired to it but was diverted for a time before becoming a career soldier. After 28 years of service, Clark is slated to retire from the Army in November 2006.
Clark’s early years were spent in Greensboro NC. He moved with his family to Georgia, graduating from High School in Powder Springs. Clark went on to Kennesaw College, joined the ROTC and became one of the first Army Officers to graduate from the ROTC program at Kennesaw. Clark’s first duty station was Fort Hood with the First Cavalry, Second Battalion, Company B. Clark had chosen “Armor” as his specialty and became a platoon leader for five M 60 tanks and 20 men. His work at Fort Hood included arranging visits to the facility for high profile people including congressional representatives and military dignitaries.
Clark speaks of the danger in being a tank crewmember and says, “Tanks are designed to kill, and they don’t care who they kill, the enemy or a crewmember.” Being a tank crewmember is dangerous work for many reasons. There were 63 shells of various types in Clark’s tank – high explosive, smoke, beehive (anti-personnel), and armor piercing. The M 60 could also be used as an artillery piece. After firing, the shell casing would be ejected within the tank. The spent shell casing could cause death or serious injury if a crewmember happened to be in the wrong position within the tank.
Clark left the Army for a few years to work in private industry. However, the allure of military life and the camaraderie he enjoyed gave him the desire to go back to active duty from reserve status. Clark calls it Divine Intervention that he was selling computers in the late 1980’s and happened to meet an Army Reserve officer who needed the computer skills Clark had gained in his civilian work. This chance meeting resulted in Clark going back to “active guard reserve” status in 1989. He was again on a career Army officer path.
Clark had a varied series of assignments in the next 12 years in Marietta GA, Fort Huachuca AZ, Fort Devens MA and Alaska. During the Fort Devens assignment, he was involved in mobilization of reserves for the United Nations peacekeeping effort in Bosnia. This experience paid dividends for Clark in his own deployment to Iraq in 2005.
In 2001, Clark was assigned to an “operations center” position in the Pentagon in the office of Chief of the Army Reserves. Clark was one of 400 people working for the Chief of Army Reserves. His office was in Crystal City VA while permanent offices were being renovated in the Pentagon. On September 11, 2001, American Airlines flight 77 crashed into the very space that Clark would have occupied had he been working at the Pentagon. His Crystal City office was only a short distance from the disaster at the Pentagon. Clark remembers well the horror and confusion in the DC area. The building he worked in, and the entire District of Columbia was evacuated. Roads were clogged. It took about eight hours for him to get home that evening. Telephone lines were jammed. After two days, he was recalled to his office and began manning the operation center phones. Finally, life began to return to some semblance of normalcy as it did across the United States.
After several months, Clark interviewed for work at the Inspector General (IG) of the Army’s office at the Pentagon. He was chosen and began work as the Assistant Officer in Charge of the Inquiry Dept. The IG handles a myriad of investigations, inspections, inquiries, assists military personnel, and ensures compliance to regulations. This organization sometime strikes fear into the hearts of those being “inspected.”
Working at the Pentagon was a drastically different experience after 9/11. Heavily armed personnel with ready machine guns were now on guard. The subway that ran under the Pentagon could no longer be used. Parking was, and is, at a premium. Clark says, “Do not drive your car to work if you do not have an assigned space.” Ride sharing, vanpools and bus transportation are commonly used. After 9/11, Clark volunteered for service in Afghanistan. He was deferred because of his duty in the IG Dept. On Thursday April 28, 2005, Clark decided to send his retirement request through channels on the following Monday. However, on that day, his superior, a Colonel, called in the five Lt. Colonels reporting to him and said, “I must assign two of you to Iraq.” Clark volunteered to go. He had qualms but felt it was his duty. His concern was for his wife and those he would command. Clark did not want to have anyone harmed because of a decision made by him.
His experience at Fort Devers made it easier for him to deploy as Clark had been through the process so many times with others. Checking accounts changes, an updated will, power of attorney, updated security clearance, new ID card, immunizations, dental exam and physical examination – all this needed to be done quickly. Great support from Clark’s wife Ginny helped ease the process. Two weeks’ indoctrination at Fort Carson CO followed. He joined up with the others being deployed and left on a commercial charter flight from Fort Carson to Kuwait with some intermediate stops.
It was night and it was hot – 120 degrees – when he arrived in Kuwait. He boarded a bus with curtains covering the windows, headed for Camp Buehring, Kuwait for two weeks of training before moving forward into Iraq. Clark had been told he would be in combat but instead was assigned to “intelligence” work. He was sent to Doha to an “in transit” center – a large warehouse with cots – awaiting assignment. The facility left much to be desired. He could not shower for days and to wash clothes he had to use “boxes” of water located some distance away. Clark’s superior officer told him he would be going to Taji, Iraq as Commandant of Phoenix Academy. Clark was issued his desert combat uniform along with Kevlar helmet, IBS (interceptive body armor), and ammunition for his weapons.
The mission of Phoenix Academy is to train US soldiers to train, in turn, Iraqi soldiers to defend their country. This was part of our strategy for victory in Iraq. The Academy has space for about 380 trainees and is a self-contained base surrounded by Iraqis. The soldiers stationed at Phoenix Academy are aware of the danger but as soldiers, do not think about it much. They are focused on doing their job, knowing that by doing so they will help the total effort and get home sooner. Facilities were good, as there was water, plumbing and decent food. The students arrive by convoy or helicopter for two weeks of training. The program of instruction is primarily given by battle-hardened veterans. Cultural awareness is also taught. For example, seemingly harmless gestures can be misinterpreted and may be offensive to one of another culture. On the other hand, a common gesture we use may be meaningless or perhaps have an entirely different meaning to an Iraqi. Clark was impressed with the Iraqi Army personnel he worked with, finding them friendly, courteous and cooperative.
Security is an issue that Clark personally addressed by walking all the grounds and removing any abandoned buildings or impediments to a good field of view around the compound. The compound was previously used by Saddam Hussein’s Republican Guard with markings clearly visible and was located near the Sunni triangle – a dangerous place. The headquarters of Clark’s superior officer was in one of Saddam Hussein’s many beautiful palaces – in stark contrast to the poverty and poor living conditions seen near the palace.
On an occasion when Clark was on an investigative assignment, one of the vehicles in his convoy was struck by an IED (Improvised Explosive Device). There was a time of shock and concern until it was clear there were no casualties. The device was an artillery shell detonated from a distance away.
Clark indicates he was never afraid in Iraq although in danger. He feels the prayers of family and friends helped him to cope and feel secure that he would come home after his one-year service. Clark is home from Iraq now and he remembers the people he saw and with whom he interacted. He could come home but the Iraqi people must remain there. Clark believes our military will help make the profound changes in that country that are needed.
Clark was honored July 25, 2006, with the prestigious “Legion of Merit” by the Army for his distinguished service in Iraq as Commandant of the Phoenix Academy. On November 30, 2006, he and wife Ginny will retire to New Hampshire after his years of Army service.
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.
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.
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.
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
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, Thomas Pinkney
Editor’s note: the complete 75-page World War I diary, Army uniform and other artifacts of Thomas P. Shinn, a longtime resident of Eden NC who passed away in 1988, were recently forwarded by the family to Kenneth R. Samuelson. This material is being donated to the NC Museum of History/Military Collection in Raleigh. Mr. Samuelson has written this month’s article based on one day of Mr. Shinn’s experience, November 11, 1918, the day Armistice ended World War I.
This story represents an edited excerpt from the Diary of
Thomas Pinkney Shinn (age 22)
First Sergeant, Company B
81st Division 321st Infantry
US Army – American Expeditionary Force
Veteran of the Meuse-Argonne Campaign
Monday November 11th, 1918
At 4:30 a.m., I was trying to get some rest in my little hole dug in the ground. The big shells were falling near me, and I could hear the Boche (German) machine guns puttering away a few hundred yards to our front. About 5 o’clock, the captain was ordered to report to Battalion Headquarters and in a few minutes, he came back and called Lt. Hall and myself and told us we would advance on the Boche at 6 a.m. sharp. We called all the Lieutenants and platoon sergeants and gave them the orders. We walked around and looked at the men sleeping in their shell holes and wondered how many of them would be living at noon that day. I thought how hard it would be to arouse them from a peaceful sleep and go out to kill or be killed. We knew there were two sides to war, and we either would survive or be buried here, so we did not worry. It was second nature to obey orders.
At this time, we called the men and told them what we were to do at 6 a.m. The men rubbed their eyes and tightened their belts for there was no water to drink or use to wash their faces, nor food to fill their stomachs. The men took it in good nature and prepared to go over the top in a few minutes. We formed our lines and got in position to advance on the Boche. The first and second platoons in the first wave were in command of Lieutenants Blackmon and Campbell; the third and fourth platoons in the second wave in command of Lieutenants Howard and Crawford. The men formed their skirmish lines just as though we were in a practice battle and started out. The high explosive shells started falling just as though it was raining from above. We would fall flat on the ground, get up again, and advance a little further. The men kept their heads and advanced according to orders. After we had advanced about 3 kilometers, we could hear the continuous sing of machine gun fire and every now and then a man could be seen going to the rear with a bullet pierced arm or limping back on a leg that had been shot with machine gun fire.
Nothing could stop us if life lasted, for we were to follow our orders in combat or die trying. About 8:30 a.m., we struck a solid line of machine guns, and they fired on us. There was a woods full of them. We fought them there for an hour. They were killing and wounding us, and our men were doing the same to them. I lay flat on the ground trying to keep from being hit by the machine gun bullets that were flying around us and the big shells that dropped everywhere. Only a few feet away, a comrade of mine, Nathan Pennett, said “Sarge, give me a match I want to smoke”. I told him I had a match but could not give it to him without exposing myself to the Germans, so I did not give it to him. We lay there and joked. He told me he had 700 francs in his pocket and if he got killed, I could take it out of his pocket and spend it.
The Boche quieted a little and we advanced again as they retreated for a counterattack. We rushed on for several kilometers and the captain, and I were just behind the front lines. We were lost in fog and wading in water waist deep. The front wave was fired upon from the flank, so the captain sent orders to Lt. Howard to clean the woods on the right and Lt. Crawford, the woods to the left. We saw them disappear but did not expect them to return. We rushed on for some distance and found that we were caught in a trap. They were firing on us from all sides and the rear too. The captain sent orders to the front wave to hold its position until the rear could come up. We fought there in the marsh up to our waist in the coldest water I have ever felt.
We were in an awful fix being in a trap from all sides. The machine gun fire from the front and the rear was killing many men. The woods in front of us were filled with machine guns and barbed wire and it was impossible to advance. The Captain gave us orders to retreat a little way and he would call for an artillery barrage, which he did, and the barrage was a success because in a few minutes we launched our counterattack. Just as we launched our attack, the Boche started putting the heaviest barrage of high explosives on us that I had ever seen. Our scouts were out in advance of the front wave about 40 yards. The fog was so dense that we could not see them at all but we knew very well when they met the enemy for, they opened with what seemed to us a thousand machine guns and a few 75mm artillery, which they shot whiz bang point blank at us. Just then, my good friend, Sgt. Pittman, who was on my left, was killed instantly by machine gun fire. Two more of our boys near me, were killed a few minutes later.
About this time, we struck a barbed wire entanglement about 3 feet high and 30 feet through. We could not get through the wire for it was too strong and wide, but we had a nasty fight at that place. While we “entertained” the Boche for a few minutes, one of our boys by the name of Carpenter crawled through a little path in the wire and came very near jabbing a gunner with his bayonet. Then one of the Huns shot him in the neck with an automatic pistol. He fell and we fought there within a few feet of him for several hours, hearing his pitiful cries for help but could not get to him. It was so foggy that the Boche crawled up and took him prisoner. Our line was only about 130 feet from the Boche line, but they were making it so hot for us we could not move forward only a few men at the time, and it was slow work. Right then I crawled over to cut some telephone wire with my pliers, and a sniper came very close to getting me. His bullet cut a hole in the overcoat I was wearing.
The big shells were falling so thick and fast that I had an idea that I only had a few minutes to live. It was so cold I knew if I did not get killed by a shell or bullet that I would freeze to death. I was wet to my neck and my clothes had frozen stiff on me. The shell holes would fill up with water in a few minutes, so we kept moving to new shell holes as they were made. I was so cold that I was numb all over. I had not seen any fire or shelter for more than 48 hours and two days without food, water or sleep was getting on my nerves. But I could not think much of things like that for my mind was full of thoughts as to how I could save myself and kill a Hun. They made it so hot for us that we had to lay low in a shell hole for half hour or more. While lying in the shell hole one of my friends came to me and asked me to send a man to the rear with him as he had had his left arm blown off between the elbow and shoulder and he was bleeding very fast. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do to tell him I could not send anyone back with him. I had to leave him lying in a shell hole weak and pale. I never saw him again, but I feel sure someone picked him up.
About 10:45 am, the Boche seemed to shoot everything they had at us. They made us keep our heads so near the ground that I had mud in my ears. At 7 minutes to 11 a.m., a runner came up to the captain, out of breath, and handed him an order. I do not know what it said but I know it pleased the captain very much. As soon as he read the order, he called two runners and told them to go to the platoons and give them orders to cease firing at 11 o’clock
As soon at the captain had sent the orders down the line he came over, shook my hand, and said we must try to keep from being killed in the next five minutes and all would be well. At 11 a.m., we ceased fire. The Germans jumped up, threw their rifles down, and came running to meet us. They wanted to shake hands and talk with us, but we made them go back.
We spent the rest of the day gathering up the dead and wounded off the fields and they were plentiful. We hauled many loads of dead bodies and buried the dead in a hole dug like a long ditch. The men were laid close together side by side and covered up. The Company pitched their pup tents and built fires. Our orders were to place a heavy guard along the line we held at 11 am. Late that evening, after the excitement was over, I fell down and could not go any further. My Captain brought me a piece of hard bread and some muddy water from a shell hole and with an hour’s rest I could go on and move again. It was almost like heaven to us cold, wet, tired, and hungry boys to make a fire and sleep a little. The Captain and I slept in a German dugout we captured from the Boche the day before. It had been a German officer’s quarters. We had a small stove and some straw bunks, but it was what seemed to us to be the most ideal place we had ever slept in. The Germans celebrated all night long by sending up flares and lights from the trenches and they were so glad that they would not sleep at all. We were perfectly happy to get some good rest and sleep the night of November 11, 1918.
Mr. Shinn was born April 26, 1896, in Kannapolis NC and was a long-time employee of Fieldcrest Mills in Eden NC. He married Mattie Krimminger of Kannapolis. There are four living children from that marriage. Mrs. Mary Shinn (Kenneth) Ross lives in Rockingham County; Harold lives in Milford NJ and Conrad in Pensacola, FL. A daughter, Jean Shinn Hart, who donated her father’s WW I material to the NC Archives on behalf of the family, lives in Nashville TN. One daughter Peggy and one son Harry are deceased.
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.
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.