JCSM Shareware Collection 1996 September/JCSM Shareware Collection (JCS Distribution) (September 1996).ISO/elec_bks/letdos1.zip/CHAP3

Text File | 1994-03-22 | 18KB | 346 lines

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          *       CHAPTER 3: A DEMANDING YANK IN DEVONSHIRE       *
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          After a couple of years training in the US, the 4th
          Division moved to England in January, 1944. This was a
          part of Operation Bolero, the buildup of allied forces for
          the invasion of the continent. Tommy Thomason chose
          me to represent the battalion on the advance party, along
          with a sergeant. Tommy says he chose me because I was
          the best man for the job, but I suspect it was partly
          because I was single and the married officers wanted to
          delay as long as possible.

          Although I wrote copious letters home during the war,
          there are none about our crossing on the Queen
          Elizabeth. Probably we were under orders not to write
          about this, for security reasons. Nevertheless, my
          memories of the voyage are vivid. Who could forget a
          crossing of the Atlantic in mid-winter with 17,999 others?
          Fortunately, I do not get seasick, but there were not
          many who were so lucky. The enlisted men suffered most.
          They were supposed to alternate between sleeping below
          and being on deck. The difficulty was that few could
          stand their dark and smelly quarters. There were two
          companies of nurses on board, and the roughness of the
          sea did not prevent romance from blooming in the officers
          lounge.

          Everyone was happy when the Queen entered a quiet bay
          near Greenock, in Scotland. From there we traveled by
          train to Devon, in southwestern England, where we spent
          several weeks in Collipriest, a large home near the village
          of Tiverton.

          My task was to make arrangements for the 29th Field
          Artillery Battalion to move into the village of Axminster,
          not far from Exeter. Since no troops had previously been
          quartered there, this was a nice challenge.  In retrospect,
          I can only marvel at my self-confidence. (Some would call
          it brashness.) At that time I was twenty-three and dealing
          with men at least twice my age. In retrospect, I am
          grateful for the tact with which they dealt with this
          demanding Yank.

          Before going on, a little family background may be in
          order. As mentioned in Chapter 1, my father went into
          the Army in the summer of 1941.  However, he became
          ill in 1944 during his second tour in China. My letters
          indicate that I was not aware how serious this illness
          was, and I am now ashamed of the flippant tone I took
          when writing to him.  My brother, Bud, joined the US
          Marines before Pearl Harbor and spent most of the war
          in the South Pacific. Although he saw a lot of combat, he
          escaped being wounded. My sister, Sis, married Carlton
          Tilton, who became a First Lieutenant in the Air Force.
          To his regret, he spent the war as an instructor in the
          US. Ironically, during a tour of duty in Germany after the
          war he became ill with rheumatic fever, which plagued
          his health thereafter.

          With the family scattered to the four winds, my mother
          returned to her family home in Philadelphia. There she
          was kept busy reading my flood of letters and meeting my
          constant demands for packages. For several months after
          arriving in England, I also kept a diary. Since this was
          rather voluminous, what you will see in this chapter and
          the next are only excerpts.

          Diary, January 11, 1944

          During a visit to Tiverton, I went into a bakery. When I
          asked the woman storekeeper whether I needed a ration
          stamp to buy something, she replied, "No, of course not."
          "How do you sell them," I asked, "by the pound, piece, or
          dozen?"

          "Any way you like. You can buy the whole store if you
          wish, except the staff, of course." Then she and several
          ladies looking on enjoyed a good laugh.

          (During a visit to a pub that night, I met Margo Southy,
          an English girl who drives for an American motor pool.)
          When the place closed up, I suggested that I be allowed
          to walk home with her. She kept trying to discourage me,
          saying it was quite a distance. It was.  We walked every
          foot of the way, three miles."

          Dear Mother, January 13, 1944, APO 9366 c/o
          Postmaster, New York

          Despite the fact that this is my first letter to you from
          overseas, there is not much to say. We are quartered just
          now in a rather large home, just outside of a village.
          Most of us have been into town several times already.
          We've been here only since Sunday, so naturally we are
          just getting settled down. Oh, I've already had time to
          meet a rather attractive young lady, but then that always
          receives a high priority.

          Give my love to all. John

          Diary, January 13, 1944

          Upon returning to Collipriest (after a visit to Tiverton), I
          learned that Margo had driven by and asked for me. (I
          called her and made arrangements to see her in Exeter
          on Saturday.)

          Our areas were assigned to us today. That is, they were
          pointed out on the map.




          VISITS TO EXETER AND AXMINISTER

          Diary, January 14, 1944

          Capt. Smith, assistant division motor officer, took us out
          today to qualify us for driver's licenses in Great Britain.
          The test consists of driving on the left hand side of the
          road for a sufficient distance to demonstrate our ability
          to do so without wrapping the vehicle around a baby
          carriage.

          We got our first ration of P.X. items today, 2 razor
          blades, 1 bar of soap, three candy bars, 1 package of
          gum, 1 box of cookies, 7 packages of cigarettes, and two
          boxes of matches per week.

          Diary, Exeter, January 16, 1944 - Sunday

          Awakened with a start this morning, I wondered what on
          earth was happening. Someone was tucking the comfort
          around me. It was a rather elderly woman, who had
          brought the tea up to me. "Sorry, sir, but the comfort
          had fallen off on the floor."

          After breakfast, I took a walk about Exeter. Never have I
          seen such a sight. Entire squares in the center of the city
          are completely demolished, leveled to the ground. Stores,
          homes, churches, cathedrals alike with only their original
          site remaining.

          Diary, Axminster, England, January 17, 1944

          We left Collipriest about 0810 and drove down to Honiton
          to meet the British who were to guide us about our
          areas. Much of the drive was during the dark, over
          twisting roads.

          A Capt. Price of the British Army talked to the 8th
          Infantry, the 42d F.A. Bn. and me. Then he introduced
          me to Mr. Green, a British civilian, who was to guide me
          about our billets at Axminster.

          Mr. Price drove in his vehicle and Sgt. Dinges and I
          followed him in ours. We got to Axminster and went to
          the police station where me met a Mr. Bastin, who has
          charge of the keys to the billets.

          In both their company, Sgt. Dinges and I walked about
          town, looking at the places in which we are to live. This
          took until one o'clock.

          After dinner, Sgt. Dinges and I went to a camp near here,
          the 315th Station Hospital, to arrange for a place to live
          while we're here. Lt. Col. Barrett was quite cooperative
          and arranged everything for us.

          We then went back to town and called on Mr. Kirby,
          Clerk of the City Council (corresponding to our city
          manager), to get a map of the city. He offered all
          assistance he could give in our work and referred me to
          Mr. Pike, the city surveyor. Mr. Pike had just the map I
          wanted. We made an overlay of our area from it.

          Then back to the hospital for dinner, a few hours at the
          officers club, and so to bed.


          RECOLLECTION: THE TASK OF PREPARATING FOR THE ARRIVAL
          IN A FEW WEEKS OF OVER A THOUSAND MEN REQUIRED A MAJOR
          EFFORT

          Without the cooperation of a number of people, it would
          never have been possible to prepare Axminster for the
          arrival of the battalion.  Fortunately, there were a
          number of empty buildings, which could be used as
          officers quarters and as barracks for the enlisted men.
          The George Hotel, in the middle of the town, served as
          headquarters. Although it was no doubt painful for the
          locals, I chose the Guildhall to serve as the enlisted
          men's mess. The trick was to provide it with the
          necessary stoves and other kitchen equipment.

          The only real problem arose when it came to finding a
          drill field.  I found what seemed to me the ideal place, a
          large even meadow with thick green grass. When I went
          to see Mr. Kirby, the Town Clerk, he hesitated and then
          took me to the football field. While not as good as the
          one I had found, it was adequate. I only later learned
          that the one I had chosen was the cricket field. There are
          limits to an Englishman's patriotism.

          A more embarrassing incident occurred when a British
          officer admired my automatic. While showing it to him, I
          inadvertently fired it into his book case. His secretary
          rushed into the room, screaming "The Yank has shot the
          major."

          Diary, Tiverton, England, January 18, 1944

          We made definite settlement on area assignments today,
          so we drove to Tiverton to turn in communications
          requests.

          Our trunks and bedding came in from the ship today.

          Diary, Axminster, January 19, 1944

          Sgt. Dinges and I drove back from Tiverton early this
          morning. We stopped at Honiton on our way to see the
          British Quartering Commandant. He gave me some
          suggestions, which solved my few remaining problems for
          billeting the men and officers. We spent the rest of the
          day making final checks to be sure our men will go in
          the buildings we have assigned them and seeing if
          sanitary facilities are adequate.

          Now at last I know where I've heard the name of this
          town before - Axminster rugs. Lt. Col. Barrett,
          commander of the 315th Station Hospital, gave me a
          brochure about the town, which was given to him by the
          townspeople last Christmas.

          This contains a great deal of data on the town, its past
          and present, and concerning its locations of interest and
          persons of some fame coming from here.

          Perhaps of greatest import and interest is the fact that
          from this place came the Duke of Marlborough and the
          Drake Family, from whence came a person called Winston
          Churchill.

          This is really a lovely western English town, with a
          fascinating past and a congenial atmosphere now. The
          roads twist and turn, just as they must have a thousand
          years ago. The place was founded in 786.  Even today
          many old structures stand, while others lie crumbled. It
          is within an hour and half of Exeter and a few hours
          from London.

          But today it is at war. Everywhere one sees road blocks
          and plates on the road where road blocks may be rapidly
          set up. This one sees all over England. Also, once in
          awhile you get sight of little home guard establishments.
          An enemy would see many things we have not - and to
          his extreme displeasure.

          Diary, Thursday, January 20, 1944

          Very busy.


          A DATE WITH MARGO AND FINAL PREPARATIONS FOR ARRIVAL
          OF THE BATTALION

          Diary, Saturday, January 22, 1944

          Well, now we know a little more about where we stand -
          such as when the reception party will get here and about
          when the troops will arrive.

          I left Tiverton about 0930 this morning, driving to Exeter,
          to talk with Capt. Wagerman, area engineer for this area.
          I'm trying to get work done on our mess and a few other
          things. Then I talked with British Major Fitts, a fine old
          gentleman. Between them, there ought to be a few
          results. Wagerman is meeting me Monday to look the
          situation over.

          Met Margo Southey's mother today. We all had dinner
          together at the Royal Clarence. Then I drove on to
          Honiton to talk with Capt.  Griffin, of the British Army.
          He's in charge of our billets. A very agreeable fellow. As
          a whole the British officers are pleasant to talk to. But
          they will often say a thing can't be done, when it can.
          But when they say they'll do it, they do.

          You know, there's an amazing contrast between the
          Americans and the British, as far as this war is
          concerned. In America, all public servants - or almost all
          - grouse at the customer. And many people are very
          sharp. We've all noticed and commented on this. But not
          so the British. I have yet to meet a cross Britisher.
          Believe me, I mean not one. Their habits may irritate us,
          but they are innately courteous and pleasant. And it
          doesn't seem to be just a formality.  They relax and have
          learned to take the inevitable philosophically.

          And after seeing their cities, one can scarcely say many
          of them are not conscious of the war going on.

          Diary, Axminster, Monday, January 24, 1944

          Kee-rist, but sometimes I get downright angry. Sgt.
          Dinges and I drove in a pouring rain from Tiverton to
          Axminster, only to find that the officer we were supposed
          to meet, a Capt. Wagerman, was not here. He had called
          and said he would be in at 3:30. At 3:30 he called to say
          he would be in at 10:30 tomorrow. Meanwhile the work
          is going undone.

          The officer from the 29th (Infantry Division) who made
          the reconnaissance for the reception party was in today.
          I showed him over the situation. Tomorrow three officers
          and sixty men will arrive to start the work. In less than
          a week we shall have to get the billets ready for the
          troops to move in. God only knows, I hope the battalion
          gets here late. We're going to need all the time we can
          get to get the job done.

          Sometimes army red tape amazes me, and here's a good
          example. Mr. Bastin, caretaker of our billets, turned in a
          report to the British Quartering Commandant on the
          status of heating facilities and repairs needed. This
          should have gone to Mr. Powell, Garrison Engineer, who
          in turn would give it to Mr. Robinson here in Axminster.
          Mr. Robinson would give the contract to a local firm.
          Complicated, eh? Only, if the job costs more than 10
          pounds, it has to be approved by Major Fitt, British
          Deputy Commandant, Royal Engineers. Capt. Wagerman,
          American area engineer, sees that Major Fitt gets the
          work done.

          Well, back to Bastin's report. He turned it in three weeks
          ago; still nothing has been done. Today I went directly to
          Robinson (in Axminster). The work will be started
          tomorrow.