Deliver Us From Darkness

by Ian Gardner

  Hardened by battle, the men had learned a lot about each other, but the new training program was going to be equally tough as anything that had gone before. It was a question of trying to bring each new man up to the same level and experience of the combat veterans, although not necessarily by the book. “We wanted the replacements to fit in and did our best to treat them accordingly,” recalls Sgt Ralph Bennett (H Co 3 Ptn). “Normandy taught us a lot about working together and never to underestimate the ability of the enemy.”

  Pfc Bob Dunning from the 81mm Mortar Ptn became friends with a replacement named Ramirez but their relationship did not get off to a good start: “One night as I was sleeping, Ramirez returned drunk to the billet. I awoke to find him cursing and swearing, holding the zipper firmly closed on my sleeping bag and a knife against my face. After some fast-talking, he finally let go and burst into tears. Some of the other replacements in the platoon such as Pvt Harold “Flash” Baker and Charlie Smith seemed to take everything in their stride and were far better adjusted than guys like Ramirez.”

  When 2nd Lt John Weisenberger (Asst S-1 [personnel] Officer) from Columbus, Ohio, first arrived, for some reason he had the MG Ptn practising gun drills in the river Kennet. “He seemed a little crazy and we soon figured that one day he would get himself killed,” recalls Cpl Bobbie Rommel.

  Pvt Leonard Schmidt remembers his first day on the job: “Just before Normandy, I was sent by truck with a bunch of other new guys to Littlecote House. As we were driving up to the gates, RHQ were in the process of leaving for their designated marshaling areas although we didn’t know this at the time. I heard later that the reason why we didn’t go to Normandy was because there were not enough transport aircraft available. I stayed at Littlecote for several weeks before being posted to Reading, where I joined the G-2 department at Division. I had always been fairly artistic and for that reason they had me working on sand tables and also as a technical illustrator.”

  Pvt James Melhus from Eau Claire, Wisconsin, was posted to the battalion as a machine-gunner, aged 23. He recalls “After doing my 17-week basic infantry training at Camp Walters in Texas, I volunteered to be a paratrooper. Upon arrival at Fort Benning there were not enough students available so we were held back for a couple of weeks. Soon after qualifying, I was sent to the UK but was disappointed when one of the friends that I had made in jump school, Eugene Krantz, was posted to the 502.”

  Most of the men in the machine-gun platoon made Melhus feel at home except for Cpl Audrey Lewallen as Jim recalls: “Lewallen was a wiry, part-Native American Indian, from Casper, Wyoming, who seemingly had a raft of issues. The corporal was an antagonistic type with a big mouth who was always picking on junior soldiers like me.” Although James Melhus’ case was unusual, the green replacements still had to be drilled and instilled with the same esprit de corps and taught the lessons learned from Normandy.

  Range work and field problems began in earnest, including combat training against armored vehicles. Several daylight parachute exercises took place, with emphasis being placed on efficient assembly drills as Bill Wedeking recalls:

  We returned to the Salisbury training area during the run-up to the invasion of Holland. The place was littered with duds and unexploded ordnance. Before Normandy, there was an accident when an old shell exploded, badly injuring several soldiers from another outfit. When I took over the MG Ptn, I instilled in my guys never to touch suspicious objects. I had aquired a lovely P-38 Walther and plenty of ammunition from a German officer near St-Côme-du-Mont. When we were on maneuvers, especially Salisbury Plain, I used the pistol to shoot rabbits that I skinned and ate back in my billet.

  First Sergeant Ed Shames (HQ Co) and S/Sgt George Retan (I Co 3 Ptn) received battlefield commissions and went their separate ways. “I was posted to a staff position with 2nd Bn as assistant intelligence officer (S-2) under Capt Lewis Nixon,” recalls Ed. “From the word go I did not get on with Nixon who had a serious drinking problem and I never fully understood how he was able to hold his job down.”

  On August 10, a parade took place on Hungerford Common, led by Gen Dwight Eisenhower. The review was followed by an awards ceremony, where it was announced that the 101st Airborne Division would now be part of the First Allied Airborne Army, under command of US LtGen Lewis Brereton. The “First Triple A” as it was known, was an amalgamation of British, American, and Polish airborne forces and comprised nearly 30,000 men. The new role did not change the overall American table of organization except for the individual rifle companies. At company level, the order of battle was restructured, with the creation of a fourth squad, dedicated to the 60mm mortar teams.

  By September the strength of 3rd Bn 506th PIR, totalled around 650 officers and men. Forty percent of the battalion was made up of new personnel direct from the United States, while others came via the parachute school at nearby Chilton Foliat. Capt Jim Morton, who had broken his right foot on the jump into Normandy, was now in command of HQ Co and replacement 1st Lt Robert Pennell, his new executive officer. Jim recalls: “Pennell was a chubby man who did not fit the mould of a typical airborne soldier. However, he was a gifted armorer with a superb working knowledge of guns and ammunition but had no place on the battlefield.” Still in pain, Morton was relying heavily on his newly appointed first sergeant, Fred Bahlau, who threw himself into improving Camp Ramsbury’s facilities.

  The barracks, orderly room, and ordnance shed were all refurbished and a new supply store and mail shack created from scrap timber. Morton was so pleased with Bahlau that during one of the regular Sunday morning company commanders meetings, he told Col Sink that HQ Co had one of the best first sergeants in the regiment. All praise aside, Bahlau had taken over the role under the worst possible conditions and encountered a certain amount of resentment from some of the noncommissioned officers (NCOs), like Bob Webb. Previously, 21-year-old Webb had been battalion supply sergeant. However, due to a gross misunderstanding, Bob had been demoted to private by Capt Morton, despite his more-than-capable record over the previous year. Two months earlier, during the battle of Bloody Gully, Webb was returning from Carentan when he stumbled across Morton – who was XO for G Company at that time – and several members of the communications platoon sheltering in a ditch. Following a direct order given to him by Bob Harwick (who was acting battalion commander at the time),Webb barked at the men “to get up off their butts and move forward to where they were desperately needed as riflemen.” Everyone except Jim Morton sheepishly headed off towards the front line. In the heat of the moment, Bob had forgotten that Morton’s broken foot prevented him from moving anywhere quickly. Before the captain had a chance to say anything, Webb turned and walked away, muttering the word “asshole” under his breath. Later that same day Morton was given command of HQ Company and almost immediately started to make life difficult for Webb. On August 23, Jim Morton demoted Webb and posted him to the communications platoon, under 1st Lt Glenn Barr.

  The more seriously wounded from Normandy were still recovering in medical facilities up and down the country. One of the soldiers returning from a hospital in South Wales had some interesting news for Helen Briggs. “He told me that the place was full of my guys, so I decided to visit Hereford for a couple of days and see for myself.” The 3rd Bn men were certainly surprised to see Briggsey, especially Ben Hiner, who had been accidentally shot on June 10 near the town of St-Côme-du-Mont. “Ben showed me three hideous scars where the doctors had patched up his stomach,” continued Helen. “The only problem now was when he stood up, because his gut sank inwards on one side and outwards on the other. I jokingly suggested that he could do with one of my two-way stretch girdles. Although we both laughed, Ben figured that somehow it might actually do him some good! Upon my return to Ramsbury, I cut the garters from one of my slightly worn girdles and sent it to him, with a note that he would have to figure the rest out by himself.” At the time Hiner was not doing so well and weighed less than 100lbs: “I figured perhaps with the aid of the girdle th
at I could pass my five-mile fitness test and return to duty. Despite the fact that I had already failed my first five-mile run, I requested a retest and thanks to the girdle, made the required time and passed ‘fit for duty.’The powers that be wanted to send me to the 502, which of course I flatly refused – it would be the third battalion or nothing. I still couldn’t move around that well and bending down was a problem but eventually I managed to convince the medics to send me back to Ramsbury.”

  A couple of weeks later during a visit to battalion HQ at Camp Ramsbury, Helen Briggs was surprised to see Hiner in the office. “Ben walked over with a big smile on his face, gently patting his tummy and gave me a big hug.” Hiner had another reason to be pleased. Jim Morton had just promoted him to battalion supply sergeant!

  Sgt Manny Barrios (I Co) had been recuperating at the 83rd General Hospital, where he had been admitted on June 11, after being evacuated from Normandy.

  Several large pieces of shrapnel were embedded between the two tendons at the front of my ankle. By the time I reached hospital, the wound had become so infected that the doctors wanted to amputate the injured leg. After threatening to “kill them all” if the procedure was carried out, my consultant decided to cut away all the dead tissue but performed the minor operation while I was fully conscious! Screaming in agony, it was all I could do just to cling onto the edge of the operating table.

  After being confined to a wheelchair for several weeks, in a desperate attempt to relieve the boredom, I was taught to paint by a British nursing volunteer. I definitely had a flair for this kind of thing and pretty soon was asked to create a mural depicting a naked girl above the bar in the NCOs’ club. One of the chaplains took offense and threatened to have the place shut down if I didn’t go back and paint a layer of clothing over my masterpiece. Reluctantly I thinned out some red paint and carefully brushed a semi-translucent veil across her buxom breasts and perfectly proportioned behind. Everyone seemed happy with the result, as I was commissioned to work on a more esoteric project, the ceiling and walls of the hospital cinema.

  When the division was alerted for the invasion of Holland, they recalled as many people as they could from hospital. By this time, I considered myself well enough to return but my doctor insisted it could only be for “light duties.” As I leapt from the tailgate of a moving truck outside Camp Ramsbury, I fell forward on the slope of the road and reopened the wound on my foot. Dr Morgan carefully read my surgeon’s note and insisted on seeing the injury. Despite my protests, he took one look at the blood seeping from my ankle and sent me straight back to hospital. I was beside myself with guilt but the damage had been done and there was absolutely nothing I could say or do to change it.

  Pfc Ken Johnson (H Co 2 Ptn), had been recovering at a hospital in Southampton for nearly three months. Ken’s terrifying experience in Normandy had shaken him to the very core:

  After breaking my leg on the jump, I found shelter with two other guys in a crater on the drop zone. I never learned the names of my comrades, except that one was from the 82nd Airborne, some of whom had been misdropped into our area of operations. The other guy, who was unarmed, had a broken arm as well as an impacted back. Although the soldier was clearly in a great deal of pain, he volunteered to keep watch on the other side of the crater. At first light, I crawled over to see if he wanted a cigarette, only to discover that he was dead, killed by a single bullet in the face. We could do nothing but remain vigilant, and fire at anything that moved. I blamed myself for that poor guy’s death and being trapped for nearly 72 hours with his body had a deep and profound effect on me. As the tide of battle shifted, eventually on the third day, the probing attacks stopped and the medics were able to locate and pick us up.

  Back in the UK, Johnson considered himself lucky compared with the baby-faced soldier in the hospital bed next to him:

  The kid had been badly wounded in the groin and had to have an “A” frame contraption covering his shredded genitals. Before being discharged, I convinced my doctor to change the paperwork to read “crushed” rather than “serious leg fracture.” When I got back to battalion my squad leader, Sgt Bill Cumber, turned a blind eye and never made an issue out of it. In my absence Pfc Don Hegenes had taken over the machine gun for first squad. It was a relief to be assigned as a regular rifleman, because I wasn’t looking forward to carrying a 30lb machine gun again.

  Pvt Joe Marshall (MG Ptn) wrote a short letter from hospital to Sgt Garland “Tex” Collier. Twenty-five-year-old Tex had taken over from George “Doc” Dwyer after the latter had been posted to the jump school at Chilton Foliat.

  Hello Collier – Just thinking of you all and wondering how you got by in France? Do you remember where you last saw me? Well I was there for about 40 hours before an aid man could get to me. I will be in this bed for some time and it will be five or six months before I am able to walk again. I know it will be tough for me to stay in hospital for that length of time and I don’t know yet if I will be sent back to the 506. I have about £59.00 of loans outstanding and I would really appreciate it if you will get back as much of it as you can and send it to me. Please tell Cpl Riley to return my watch etc. Here is a list of the boys that owe me money I thank you very much for your trouble. I know it is asking a lot for you to do this but Collier I feel you would care to do it for me a friend… Joe.

  PS: Give them my hospital address and get the dough! Send it all in a money order, thank you.

  Of the dozen or so people who were on Marshall’s list, Les Riley and Bob Boem were dead, Tom Bucher was lying paralysed in hospital and Clarence Kelley was a prisoner of war.

  Cpl Mario “Hank” DiCarlo (H Co 1Ptn) felt that he still had not proved himself in battle to his friends. “Despite the fact that I had seen what war could do, I just couldn’t wait to get back into combat,” recalls DiCarlo, who had been shot in the upper right chest on June 6, while scouting along the southern bank of the Canal de Carentan close to the village of Brévands after crossing the road bridge on D-Day. Dr Morgan had recommended that DiCarlo be kept off jump status until further notice. However, Hank surreptiously destroyed the “note” before returning to the company.

  Although she did not realize it at the time, Helen Briggs’ destiny, along with that of 3rd Bn, was about to drastically change owing to the rapid expansion of Allied ground forces in France.

  The ARC needed experienced club directors and I was asked to go to Paris with the promise that I would be returned to 3/506, whenever they settled in Europe. At my farewell party, I was trying hard not to cry, until my GI brother Clark walked in. The guys couldn’t understand my reaction because they knew I was still “secretly” dating Bob Harwick. My brother, who I hadn’t seen for eight years, had been on his way to Tidworth with a colleague, to pick up supplies and changed his orders to read “as directed.” Afterwards Bob Harwick “directed” my brother to take me to London, which conveniently solved all my logistical and travel problems.

  During this time the American paratroops were issued a “new-style” olive green regular M43 uniform and high-buckled boots, intended to replace the tan jumpsuits and brown lace-up high-leg leather boots. Bill Galbraith was worried that the buckles on the new footwear might get caught in his rigging lines when parachuting: “Consequently those of us that had any sense continued jumping with the boots that we had worn in Normandy. However, by far the greatest improvement was made to our parachutes that were now fitted with a quick-release attachment.”

  The T5 parachute packs were modified in England but only, it would seem, for the 101st Airborne Division. The riggers made up several versions, adding the British Quick Release Fastening (QRF), together with extra webbing straps manufactured for the standard British X-Type parachute. The alterations solved most of the previous problems, making the T5 a more comfortable fit and much easier to unfasten after landing.

  In mid-August, the Regiment was ordered to prepare for a jump at Rambouillet, 20 miles southwest of Paris. Luckily the operation (codenamed Trans
figure) was cancelled, as it was later discovered that a panzer division had been waiting in the forest adjoining the intended drop zone. Joe Doughty remembers, “After returning from the marshaling area, Admiral Hyde Parker inquired, ‘Was it a rough show, boys?’Andy Anderson and I were quite embarrassed and had to reply as if we had done something worthwhile but couldn’t say anything because it was all very ‘hush hush.’”

  In early September, the 506th was alerted for two further operations in Belgium, the first called Linnet at Tournai and another in the vicinity of Liège. However, George Patton’s Third Army captured both objectives before the airborne missions could even get off the ground. After Liège, Ed Shames was astounded to discover that Lewis Nixon had abandoned him to organize the S-2 missions and went to see 2nd Bn’s commanding officer (CO), LtCol Robert Strayer.

  Strayer quite literally threw me out of his office but I was not going to let this go. A couple of days later, I plucked up courage and went to see Colonel Sink at Littlecote. Firstly, I had to convince Sink’s personnel officer, Major Salve Matheson who told me “that I should have known better and used the official channels to get a proper hearing.” However, he relented and showed me into Sink’s office. The colonel sat and listened to my plea. “Sir, I just cannot work with Captain Nixon, he is in my opinion totally unprofessional and I am getting very little support from Colonel Strayer. I’d rather turn in my commission and go back to third battalion than continue to work under these circumstances.” Sink was horrified and almost blew his stack before sending me outside to wait in Matheson’s office.