Our Father's Generation

by F. M. Worden

  After the training, we were on our way to Fort Dix, New Jersey, by rail road. The war in Europe was heating up and we were told we were needed. At Dix, we took more advanced infantry training and got more three-day passes.

  Hank and I went into New York City on one three-day pass. What a great time we had. The USO Cantina was across the street from the bus stop where we arrived. How good we were treated there. Girls, girls and more girls were everywhere. The New York girls were good looking, exciting and desirable. We made many friends in a short time. Against regulations, a couple took Hank and I for their very own project. They escorted us to the Statue of Liberty and to the top of the Empire State Building. Two nicer girls you would never meet. I was sorry to say goodbye to them. Darn if I can remember their names. We only saw them for one day. We had a chance at two others, but that’s another story.

  Back at Dix, we knew we were close to shipping out as the men leaving the post were in full field equipment and they had their duffels. Sgt. Billy Joe was letting up a bit, if he did that we were pretty darn certain something was up. Then the word came, no more passes.

  Sunday morning, the first of April, we were ordered to march to some trucks with all our gear. In two hours, we were processed and embarked onto a waiting troop ship. Stuffed in a hole, four bunks high, we left the docks and were on the way to England. I would soon be eighteen.

  The crossing was uneventful to say the least. Sgt. told us the German subs were pretty well out of the war, or at least that’s what he was told to tell us. We got to take turns to go up on deck. Hank and I always went up together. I really liked to watch the other ships and to see the Navy protecting us. The Atlantic Ocean is one cold mother even in the spring time. I always took my field jacket on deck with me. We docked at Liverpool, England, on a bright sunny afternoon. It was good to have my feet back on solid ground again.

  Back at the hospital, I hadn’t slept a wink that night in the ward. I didn’t hurt, but I didn’t like to be in a cast again. Oh well, I would have to suffer my way thru another time. I had Jen to make my time a little easier. How lucky can a guy be to find a girl to love in time of war?

  The next morning, Jen came in and told me some awful news, Sgt. Billy Joe Williams had died in this very hospital. “He had an infection the Doctors couldn’t control. I’m sorry to be the one to tell ya.” I could see tears in her eyes.

  I couldn’t say a word, I was so shocked. I tried to hold my tears, it was no good. “Jen, I really loved Billy Joe.” I cried to myself on and off all that day, I couldn’t help it. I prayed Billy Joe and all the others would be in Heaven this day.

  God Bless all our men. Jen said it was all right to cry. “All men cry over people they love.” I was so glad she understood. I think that’s when I really fell in love with her.

  That night, I thought a lot about my going back to duty. I had mixed emotions. I didn’t want to leave Jen and at the same time, I wanted to get back in the war. Paris had been liberated and our troops were moving on toward Germany. I wanted to be part of the winning team. I hoped most of the real dirty fighting was over. How wrong can a person be?

  Chapter 3

  Return to Duty – The 90th Division

  After six more weeks in a cast, I finally got the dang thing off and my ankle was good as new. A young officer came thru the ward that very afternoon and threw a brown leather case on my bed. He said I had earned a Purple Heart with an oak-leaved cluster. Every man in the ward got one.

  After a full physical, I was classified fit for duty. Me and three other GI’s were moved to a cottage just off the hospital grounds, there to wait for orders to return to duty. I got a whole new issue of clothing.

  A new OD wool Ike jacket, this jacket had just been issued for the first time to enlisted men. Two pair of new OD wool pants, two khaki shirts and a tie, an overseas cap with blue infantry braid and low cut shoes; plus a heavy wool overcoat, something I had never had before, as well as a set of wool long-johns. I was given enough fruit salad to fill my chest. I liked the Infantry combat badge the best.

  The first day in the cottage I got a three-day pass. So did Jen. We took a bus to a coast town on the west coast of Scotland. The village was called Mallaig. We checked into a small hotel. It was in fact the only one in town. The people there were so nice. If I ever moved to the British Isles, this town was where I would want to live. What a great place!

  Jen and I stayed there for three days and I proposed to her three times a day. She turned me down each time, saying if we were meant for each other we could wait for the war to end. I knew she was right. Why would she want to be a young widow? I will never forget those days. We took long walks along the beach and had wonderful meals at the hotel. The best was we made love at nights. Jen was the most wonderful person I had known, bar none. What a lucky guy I am to have met and fallen in love with her. I hoped this time would never end. All good things come to an end sooner or later. Our leave time did. All the way back, I know we both must have looked like some kind of sick puppies.

  Back at the cottage, I got my orders to go to a replacement center on the east coast of England. What a sad sack I was to leave my Jen. I got on a bus with twenty other GI’s returning to duty. Our goodbyes made me sad for days. She said she would ask for a transfer to France. “Hopefully, we will meet over there soon.” She had tears streaming down her beautiful face as she spoke. Then and there I knew she loved me.

  As the bus pulled away. I began to sniff and sob a little. The guys on the bus must have thought I was a chicken. What is matter with me or was my thinking of old Hank. I hated the thought of going back into combat without him. I kept thinking of the song that Gene Autry sang, {My Buddy…Nights are long since you went away, I think of you all thru the day, my buddy, my buddy, your buddy misses’ you.} I cried out loud. I didn’t give a shit what they thought. I loved old Hank, I missed him. Oh how he would envy me over my Jen.

  We traveled to the east coast town of Plymouth and onto an LST. We crossed the English Channel, landed at the French port of Cherbourg. The port we were trying to take before I was wounded. This is where I got it. We were trucked to a replacement center somewhere south of Paris. The air was getting cold as October was almost over. I had nearly lost track of the time of year. At the center, there must have been a hundred men waiting for orders. I’d never seen such a complete mess that they were making, trying to assign us GI’s to units. It was almost three weeks before I got my orders sending me to the 90th Infantry Division.

  The outfit was in a rest camp northwest of Paris. I reported to the Division Adjutant. He assigned me to the 359th Regiment, 1st Battalion, Infantry Company B. The First Sergeant sent me to the 2nd platoon, 1st Squad. The whole division was staying in squad tents. This outfit had stormed the beaches of Normandy on D-day. The division nick-name was the T-O, “Tough Ombre.” Shoulder patch is a TO in red on a green background. How about that? It’s a Texas National Guard outfit.

  These GI’s had a high rate of casualties when they stormed the beaches of Normandy. They were glad to get us as replacements. My being in combat before made me a special member of the squad. About all we did waiting for orders was close order drill and digging latrines. The cooks were good and I liked my new platoon Sergeant. He was a Staff Sergeant, a man named Rocky Stump has to be good. My squad leader was Buck Sergeant Jimmy Good. He was just promoted to the job. I found he was a hair trigger and all who knew him said he was a fair man.

  The platoon had no officer. The only one they had had been killed at Normandy. This Sgt. seemed good enough for me.

  The CO of Company B was a Captain who had been killed on Utah Beach during the landing on D-day. Sgt. Rocky had been the leader ever since. One old time GI said Rocky was one hell of a man. “I’d follow him into the gates of hell.” The new CO was a Captain; his name was Cook. I was told he had been an enlisted man for a lot of years before the Division got called to active duty. He looked to be a man who could handle himself. Tall dark and handsome, he look
ed like a man who meant what he said; I liked that.

  We were all waiting for a pass to go to Paris. A USO show came one cool evening. The star was Marlene Dietrich. WOW, what a women! She had beautiful legs and boy did she show them to us. She wasn’t bad all over. It was great to forget the war for a few hours. I’ll never forget her. She danced and sang in her sultry voice. What a gal. I dreamed about Jen that night. I also had a dream about Hank. Damn-it, I sure missed him.

  I was with this outfit almost a month before I got my first pass. All this time, we did a lot of close order drill and took classes about Infantry Tactics. Sgt. Rocky was one hell of an Instructor.

  Hot-Dog, I had three days to spend in Paris, France. I spent Christmas day in Paris. We loaded on trucks for the trip to Paris. Sgt. Good sat beside me and we got acquainted. He asked if I would like to be the squad BAR man. I told him I would think about it. I would rather be just a rifleman. He didn’t seem to care either way.

  On the way, I got to thinking about Hank and me on our three-day pass in London. I just couldn’t stop thinking about him. That time we went most of the way on the rails, then bussed on in. We weren’t there more than ten minutes when Hank had two girls, one on each arm. What a guy! We took or were taken to a pub in downtown London. Hank was having a high old time. To me, since I didn’t drink, it was a bore. Anyway, we were shown around town by the girls. I can’t remember their names, but I think one was called “B” and the other “Smart.”

  We had a good time until a buzz bomb was reported coming our way. We all headed to a shelter pronto. At the shelter, I learned to admire the British people. They all sat there laughing and having a gay old time as if nothing was happening. Many just lay down and went to sleep. Even the children took it all in stride. Me, I was scared out of my skin. One of the girls told us if the thing made a direct hit we were all gone. When the all clear was sounded, I’ll tell you, I was relieved, real relieved. That’s no BS. Hank took it all in stride. I’ll never forget Hank, he’ll always be my friend and he will be twenty to me even if I live to be a hundred.

  After that, we went to another pub. This time it was full of English servicemen. If we heard it once, we heard it twenty times, “You Yanks are over-paid, over-sexed and over-here.” I guess it was true. We did have more money to spend than they did. Oh well, such is war.

  We sure got along with the girls. We saw a lot of London or at least what was left of it. The city had taken one heck of a bombing during the Blitz. Bombed out houses and buildings were everywhere. It all made me sad. I was ready to get back to our training camp.

  When we first got to England, the camps were so full we had to be billeted in private homes. Hank and I sure got lucky as our English family was tops. The Wells, Edward and Marge, were two of the nicest people I ever met. They had two kids at home, Harold and Mary, and two boys in the army, Gerald and John. Both had been fighting in North Africa and now were in Italy. I could tell they all were worried sick. Gosh, I miss old Hank.

  About that time, I wrote Mom and Dad to tell them where I was and I got a stinging letter back. Mom gave me Billy- H. I could tell Dad was proud of me. He said many times, he was sorry he had never made it to France during the first war. I and my brothers made up for him, I guess. At least that’s the way it sounded to me.

  In Paris, the trucks dropped us off slap dab in front of the Eiffel Tower. I never told any of the guys I could speak some French, as I wanted to be on my own here in Paris. All, I mean all the guys talked about was girls, girls and girls. I had my Jen. I didn’t want to be a go guy for anyone.

  Winter was fast approaching and my wool uniform felt good. My new Ike jacket fit like a glove. OD wools are warm and comfortable. Our GI’s looked pretty darn sharp in their OD’s. I could see a lot of soldiers from many countries wandering around outside the Tower. There were English, French, American and others, all looking up at the Tower.

  I went right on in and up in the tower, what a sight to see. At the top, you can see for miles and all of Paris. My brother Frank told me he had met a wonderful girl and her mother while he was in France before the War. He said the mother worked in a café in the tower. It was nice to be at a place my brother had been. I wished I had been with him while he was here. When he talked of the young girl, I thought he had fallen in love with her. Now, he’s married to a real beauty, a Texas beauty. I hope he’s all right serving in the Pacific with the Marines. I know he misses his wife. Dad was so proud of him in his uniform, a handsome devil he was. When I wrote Dad, I told him Frank would be an officer before the war was over, he’s one smart guy.

  I was told to get a room fast as the town was full of GI’s and lots of military personnel, so rooms were hard to come by. I went looking pronto. I crossed the Seine River and walked south on Avenue de New York for quite a ways. I turned into a side street and continued several blocks. Across the street, I saw a building with a huge sign that read {U.S. Commission for French Reorganize Nation.}

  A young French girl approached me, about this time. I stopped her to ask if she knew where I could get a room. My French seemed to delight her. She smiled the most attractive smile I had seen since I left Jen. She said she could take me to a hotel. I asked her to show me. We walked some ways and turned into another aside street. In a few minutes, I saw the small hotel sign. I thanked her, but she insisted on helping me get registered. We went in and I got a room.

  Back outside, I could see she wanted to talk, so we sat on a bench in front of the hotel. She started asking about America, you know, where I was from, etc. Just then I noticed an American officer across the street watching us. In a few minutes, he came right over. I had to stand and salute him.

  “I need to have a talk with you, private.”

  “What about?” I couldn’t image why he would want to talk to me, a buck private.

  “I am assigned to Brigadier General Clarke. He wants to see you and this girl you just picked up. He’s waiting in his office at the U.S. Commission.”

  “Sir, I don’t understand what you’re talking about? Why would he want to see this young French girl and me?”

  “Private, I was ordered to bring you and this girl to see the General. Now cut the crap and let’s get to it.” He seemed awful pushy to me.

  “I don’t have to go anywhere with you. I’m under orders of the 90th Infantry Division. So you shove off Lieutenant.” I was mad and showed it. Boy-oh-boy, did he come unglued.

  “I’ll have you in the stockade if you disobey my direct order to you. I’ll have you up for insubordination, now cut the crap and come on, the General is waiting.”

  “Why would a General want me? Why does he want this girl?”

  “Look you dumb ass!” He was getting mad. I could see it in his face. “He’s a man and he wants a French girlfriend. He thinks you can get him one. He saw the way you picked this one up. You’re a really smooth operator.”

  “I ain’t pimping for the General or anyone else.”

  He backed off a little and got real friendly. “I don’t like this deal any more than you. Just play along a while until we can figure out what to do with this guy.”

  I turned to the French girl and asked her name. “Michelle,” she said. I told her to beat it in big letters. “He wants a French girl, I will look you up later. She said she lived around the corner in an apartment with her folks. “Come see me soon.”

  I told her, “Stay away from some of the American officers.” She smiled, turned and walked away up the street. If I hadn’t had my Jennie, I would pursue this girl Michelle. What a very attractive young woman she was.

  The officer really got uptight, he told me to go get her back. I said, “She’s only about sixteen or seventeen and I don’t date girls that young.” I needed a way out and thought saying she was too young was a good way. He relented and asked me to go meet the General with him.

  “I hope he won’t get mad at me and you if we don’t bring the girl with us.”

  “What the hell do I care?”
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br />   With that, we walked over to the commission office. Inside the building was a big room filled with desks, soldiers and Wacs going about their business. We went down a hall to a door with the general’s name on it, {BRIG. GEN. CLARKE}. The officer smiled and said pointing to the general’s name, “The general likes to see his name and for everybody to know who he is. He wants to run for a political office when the war is over.” He knocked gently on the door. A harsh voice invited us to come in.

  Inside, a stocky man with a large handlebar mustache sat behind a big desk. The desk was clean. I mean there was no paper work or anything else on the desk. He sat leaning back, his arms folded, with a glare on his face. “Is this my man?” he asked.

  We both saluted. He returned our salute in a haphazard way. The Lieutenant told him I was the GI with the French girl he had seen across the street. “Where’s the young lady?” He sat up, looked at me and in a harsh voice said, “I wanted to meet that girl.”

  This guy really pissed me off. I got mad and told him I didn’t pick up girls for anyone but myself. “That goes double for a General.” With my rank, what did I have to lose?

  He could see I was mad. He tried to console me saying, “Don’t get mad. I just would like to meet a nice French lady. I hoped you could help me. I just came to Paris a few days ago and I’m not very good at meeting ladies.” He had a smile on his face and begging in his eyes. I felt sorry for him, but not that sorry.

  By that time, the Lieutenant had worked his way behind the General and was giving me all kinds of hand signals. I could see he was about to have a conniption fit. Be cool, he signaled. I tried to comply by saying, “General, I will try to find you a French girlfriend. It may take a little time.” He told me I had better get to it as he didn’t have a lot of time to fool around.