1936

While at Western, I attended an ROTC summer camp at Camp Custer, Michigan the summer of 1935. A group of us, including the sons of Major Henderson, WMA Commandant, George and John Henderson attended this camp. I don’t remember much about the training we received; I can only recall some of the good times we had. We bought a 1917 Dodge touring car for $25 that used as much oil as it did gas. We chose gasoline stations that had drain oil when we filled up and replaced the oil at the same time for free. The parents of Phil Pettes ’37 had a summer cottage on Gull Lake complete with a large, three-cockpit, mahogany Cris Craft . Phil’s father would take us for turns around the lake from time to time. A traveling carnival set up just outside of Camp Custer that featured a girlie show. I think admission was 25¢, but for an additional two-bits you could see the 2^nd show which was quite revealing indeed.

Attendance at the summer ROTC camp, coupled with four years of ROTC at Western, made me eligible to receive a Reserve Commission as 2^nd Lieutenant in the Army. Upon graduation, I was given a piece of paper that if completed after my 21^st birthday and submitted to the War Department, I would receive a reserve commission. This was done on February 3^rd, 1940, and I was called to active duty in the spring of 1940 as a brand new 2^nd Lieutenant assigned to F Company, 2^nd Battalion, 26^th Infantry Regiment stationed at Fort Devens, just outside the town of Ayer, MA. The rest of the regiment was stationed at Plattsburg Barracks, NY.

1940

The pay of a "shavetail" was, as I recall, $125/month and we had to buy our own uniforms. Still life was pleasant in the peacetime Army with nothing much to do. However, that did not last long. Contractors moved into Ft. Devens and started erecting temporary buildings to house the entire 1^st Infantry Division—the Big Red One. Next, the entire Division moved into Ft. Devens, including the rest of 26^th Infantry regiment. [One of the founding members of the 26^th Infantry, organized in WWI, was Teddy Roosevelt, Jr., the son of President Theodore Roosevelt. After WWI, the 26^th Infantry, except for the 2^nd Battalion, was stationed at Plattsburg Barracks, Plattsburg, NY. Teddy Roosevelt, Jr., was its commanding officer.]

On one of my first assignments, some GI’s from the Division and I were assigned to patrol with the regular Division MPs in Boston over a payday weekend. We were assigned an area from the North Station, Scolley Square and the Commons. Sleazy bars and the famous Boston burlesque theatre, the Old Howard were in that part of town. I didn’t have a clue about being an MP, but fortunately the Division MP contingent was headed by Tech-Sergeant Kelly, an old soldier, and a graduate of the New York Police Academy. All I had to do was to sit back, watch, listen, learn and let him run the show. The first thing he said to me and the detail was that his idea of being an MP was to "keep men out of trouble rather than arresting them after they got into trouble." He organized patrols consisting of one GI paired with a Division MP; the two men patrolled together. Kelly told the men to check all bars and if a soldier was getting a little drunk, noisy or profane, to bring him in to our headquarters in a Boston city police station. It wasn’t long before the jail cells started filling up with some noisy, loud, profane, unhappy campers. When enough men were jailed to fill a truck, they were loaded up and driven back to Devens. So it went during the weekend. The trucks made many trips between Ft. Devens and the Boston police station, but no one was arrested, reported, court martialed, or even punished. The word soon traveled throughout the Division that the Division MPs were out to help the GIs—not arrest them. A reputation that soon was to serve the Division MPs well!

I was not the only young, green 2^nd Lieutenant in the Division, so was sent along with a large group of like officers, to The Infantry School at Ft. Benning, GA, euphemistically known as Benning School for Boys. We were given a training course on how to be an infantry officer. Next, the Division was ordered to participate in the 1^st Army maneuvers in North Carolina. I’m not sure of the date—it was probably in 1941 or early 1942. As part of these maneuvers, we practiced landings on NC beaches with the US Navy. We practiced climbing down cargo nets into landing craft (Higgins boats), forming up in units, and then hitting the beach for an assault on an objective. We must have waded across the PEEDEE river a dozen times.

Sometime during these maneuvers, the Division was sent to Ft. Benning to stage a show for Army brass of "The Division in Battle." We rehearsed the entire program several times, and because live ammunition was to be used, artillery guns and mortars were staked down in their position and the elevations and traversing mechanisms wired to prevent their being changed. All units were assigned positions out of the view of spectators and given rigid time schedules for the participation in the show. The big day came and everything that could go wrong did! A flight of A20A attack aircraft flew at tree-top height and dropped parachute bombs.

We were looking at the lead plane of a flight of three when it dropped its cluster of parachute bombs. We saw a puff of black smoke under the tail and the plane went into a nosedive in to the ground. We later learned that two of the bombs must have swung on their chutes, hit and detonated. I believe that the A20A planes were never put into active combat, but I don’t know if this incident had anything to do with that decision. Next, while we were waiting out of sight behind a hill, severalmortar rounds exploded among us, wounding several men.

After these maneuvers, The Big Red One was sent to Camp Blanding, Florida, and together with the Texas National Guard’s 36^th Infantry Division, formed the II Corps under the command of Lt. General Friedendall. Camp Blanding was in central Florida not far from the city of Starke. The regiment was given the usual pep talk about how the 1^st and 36^th Divisions II Corps had to train and become an effective fighting unit before being sent overseas to join the war. I believe it was during these maneuvers that the 1^st Division infantry regiments were organized into Combat Teams or CTs. Each CT consisted of one infantry regiment, one 105mm howitzer artillery battalion and some other special detachments; hence the Division consisted of CT16, CT18, and CT26.

Sometime during this period, Colonel Teddy Roosevelt, Jr., was promoted to Brigadier General and made Asst. Division Commander. It was widely reported that Teddy did not want to be a general—he wanted to stay with the 26^th, but was told that he was going to be a general, like it or not.

Col. Alexander N. Stark, a WWI veteran, took command of the regiment. He had commanded a battalion during WWI, and one of his WWI operations was written up in Infantry in Battle, an Infantry School publication.

Every morning at Camp Blanding we fell out for reveille followed by calisthenics, and it soon became apparent that something strange was going on. Many of the men had black eyes, puffy cheeks, and all the other signs of a good barroom brawl. The song "Deep in the Heart of Texas" was very popular then and on all the juke boxes. Our men said that when a jukebox played "Deep in the Heart of Texas", the 36^th Division men tried to make every one stand at attention—a command that did not sit too well with our men. The brawling got so bad that the Corps commander, Major General Lloyd Fredendall put out an order stating that the fighting between the two Divisions had to stop—we were going into battle as a unit. So stop the fighting!

Our Divisioin Commander, Major General Terry Allen, a West Pointer, ex-horse cavalry officer and WWI veteran, assembled the Division, and with the usual fan-fare (raised platform, PA system, colors and band,) made an announcement to this effect: The Corps Commander has ordered that the fighting between the 1^st and 36^th Division must stop! Now, that’s an order! Stop fighting with the 36^th Division . . . . . . . . . . But that doesn’t mean you have to take any shit off anybody either!

You can imagine what happened next. The Division went into town en mass and by units. I do not know who won the battle of Camp Blanding—I rather suspect it was a draw.

Next, we were ordered to Indian Town Gap, Pennsylvania—the staging area for going overseas. We prepared our vehicles for shipment and didn’t do much more of anything else until May of 1942 when we went by train to New York City and boarded the Queen Mary that was docked next to the upturned hull of the Normandie. A welders torch ignited some debris causing a fire that destroyed the vessel which was being converted to a troop transport.

The entire Division plus attached troops, minus vehicles and other heavy equipment was on board the Queen—approximately 15,000 troops. It was so crowded that one half the troops were on deck, the other half below decks, and every twelve hours, we switched. Life jackets consisted of belt, made of some composite material, about 4 inches wide, and equipped with two CO2 capsules (the same as those used in seltzer bottles). Ordinary life jackets would have been far too bulky with that many troops on board. I don’t recall being fed onboard—if we did have anything to eat, I rather suspect it was the old K rations packaged in a "Cracker Jack"-like, cardboard box.

Normally, the first thing that happens on board an ocean going vessel, the Captain assembles the officers and goes through the emergency procedures—location of life boats, routes to life boat stations, etc. The Captain of the Queen Mary did the same, but his talk went something like this, "With this many troops on board, forget any emergency procedures. It’s every man for himself." If you visit the Queen Mary in Long Beach California, you can see photographs of the troops on board for that voyage, the first transport of US troops to Europe in WWII, and get a better idea of the conditions on the Queen.

We left New York on the night of 1-2 August 1942, headed on a beeline for Scotland and warped up at the docks of Gourock, Scotland on 8 August.

The Queen was the fastest vessel afloat with a top speed of 32 knots. There was no need of zigzagging. Two Navy blimps provided escort cover for the first two days, the third day we were on our own, and finally, off the coast of Ireland, two British destroyers escorted us the rest of the way to Gourock, a port on the Clyde River. I later learned from the History Channel that the Queen cut one of the escorts in half with a resultant loss of life, when for some reason it crossed in front of the Queen. I don’t recall ever feeling a bump or hearing sounds of a collision.

One incident on the Queen that I vividly recall was my first encounter with a bidet. I, with some other lieutenants, was assigned to a large stateroom when it was our time to spend below decks. Once, while sitting on the commode, I happened to notice this strange looking thing beside me. I wondered just what it was and what it was used for. It did not look like a footbath, but finally curiosity got the better of me. I reached over and turned on the taps. Water gushed out, hit the ceiling, and sprayed all over the bathroom and me. My first and only shower while sitting on the commode.

When we debarked the NAFFI, British counterpart of our Red Cross doughnut girls, met us on the dock with tea and biscuits, which were very welcome indeed after the trip on the Queen Mary. We were immediately loaded onto trains that took us to our temporary home in Tidworth Barracks—a former British cavalry post located about 50 miles south-west of London.

Routine was quickly established at Tidworth, centered on combat training and re-equipping. There was much speculation about where the Division might be employed—Dakkar, Brittany Peninsula, or Norway? Off duty hours were spent in the Rose and Crown pub in Salisbury and in the company of young British ladies called "FANYs", billeted across the road from us. These were young women volunteers in the First Aid Nursing Yeomanry, aka FANY. They provided company and welcome companionship at regimental dances. The girls told us that they were all volunteers and were ambulance drivers, nursing assistants and the like.

It wasn’t until sometime in the early 80s after I read Stevenson’s A Man Called Intrepid, did I find out the true purpose/mission of the FANYs. Stevenson, who reported directly to Churchill was given the name "Intrepid", headed a British intelligence organization with the mission of supporting and interfacing with the underground resistance units on the continent. The FANYs were radio operators and other intelligence operators. (I often wondered if it wasn’t a sense of typical wry British humor for the selection of the name First Aid Nursing Yeomanry, aka FANY.)

One of the young woman’s father, Lord somebody or other, had a high position in Windsor Castle. She arranged, through her father, for the officers of the 26^th to visit the royal residence at Windsor Castle. We formed a convoy with 4 of us to a Jeep, and headed for Windsor and our personalized, private tour of the Castle. (Windsor was closed to visitors during the war.) Our very knowledgeable guide pointed out all the major sites; the window overlooking the courtyard where, reputedly Henry VIII saw Anne Boleyn, St. George’s Chapel with the banners of the Knights of the Garter, and a glimpse of the outside of the royal apartments. The King and Queen were not in residence, but normally that particular area is not open to the public.

After the tour, Col. Stark told us we were free to go to London or wherever we wanted until reveille, Monday morning. Three others and I headed for London for a weekend of "pub crawling". Along about midnight or 1 o’clock Monday morning we decided to head back to Tidworth.

We had a slight problem. Britain, on a wartime footing fearing an invasion, had removed all road signs, milestones, and other identification markers. We had no maps. We knew that Tidworth was approximately 50 miles southwest of London. So after locating the North Star and feeling no pain whatsoever, we headed southwest. We drove along singing and having a good time until about 3 or 4 o’clock, when the fresh air began to sober us up after riding in an open Jeep. Not having any idea just where we were, we came to an old, brick, two-story farmhouse and decided to "knock up" (For those of you not familiar with Britishese, "knock up" means "to awaken".) the farmer. After banging on the front door and shouting, the farmer, with a stocking type, nightcap dangling down to his shoulders, stuck his head out an upstairs window.

"What the bloody hell do you want?" he shouted.

"Which way is it to Tidworth?", we asked.

" Straight ahead about 4 or 5 miles."

I am convinced that we would still be driving if we had started out sober.

The nearest large city to Tidworth is Salisbury, an old historic, and walled British city; however, the city elders closed the gates at 9 PM. We had to park our Jeeps outside the wall, and leave the pub, the Rose and Crown, which legally closed at 11PM, before the city gates closed. This was a decided inconvenience forcing us to stagger to our vehicles. Col. Stark met with the Mayor of Salisbury to try to get the closing time of the gates moved to 11 PM, the closing time of the pubs. He was promptly and very firmly told that the gates have been closed at 9 PM ever since the battle of Hastings in 1066 or some such event, and that the closing time would not be changed!

Officers were given British clothing ration books. Clothing in wartime Britain was strictly rationed and ration books were hard to come by. Nevertheless, armed with our ration books, our CO urged us to purchase Austin-Reed Trench Coats. These were waterproof and with a detachable, woolen, inner liner—a feature that came in very handy, indeed. Col. Stark arranged with Austin-Reed in London to take our order and deliver the trench coats to us. This purchase required quite a number of the ration coupons plus the book cover itself, leaving several pages of individual coupons. We later found out that these coupons were more valuable and popular with the ladies than candy or liquor.

Our stay at Tidworth was short, about 2 months, and then it was back to Inveraray, Scotland where we were billeted in Quonset huts on the castle grounds of the Duke of Argyle, Chief of Clan Campbell. Two memories of Inverary are vivid: 1. It rained all the time—the weather was miserable, and 2. It was a custom for the regimental band to play for fifteen minutes or so after retreat. Our regimental band was quite good, having received several professional musicians in the draft. One in particular ( I have forgotten his name) played trumpet for one of the so-called "big bands" of the 40’s. Col. Stark thought it would be a good idea for the band to play on the front steps of the Duke’s castle. We all assembled to watch and listen to the program. The band started, led by the aforementioned trumpeter, with a typical program, and finally began Coming Through The Rye—in swing time! There was an audible groan, "Oh No!" The old Duke came out on the front veranda with a servant carrying a hunting horn. Apparently, the Duke got a big kick out of the band’s rendition of Coming through the Rye, and entertained us by showing off his huge collection of hunting horns.

We trained for invasion landings under the tutelage of the British Commandos. We would be landing under the command of the British Navy and using British landing craft. It was a period of learning British operational terms, and their learning ours. We practiced loading British landing craft, which were vastly different from our Higgins boats. Theirs had gasoline engines and underwater exhausts that made them extremely quiet. In fact, they could not be heard 10 feet away with the normal sound of surf on a beach. Our Higgins boats had diesel engines and sounded like a huge bulldozer. Needless to say, we were quite taken with the British boats. There was much speculation about where we would be landing, but, in fact, no one had a clue.

On October 18, 1942 we loaded onto transports in the Clyde, as part of the largest task force ever assembled, under command of the British Navy. There were approximately fifty transports escorted by some fifty naval vessels lead by the battleship HMS Rodney.

The Division was organized into "combat teams" or CTs, each of which consisted of one Infantry regiment, one Field Artillery Battalion, and other supporting units. CT26 consisted of the 26^th Infantry and the 33^rd Field Artillery Battalion. The 2^nd Battalion CT26, and the Headquarters of the Assistant Division Commander, BG Teddy Roosevelt, were on HMS Monarch of Bermuda, a luxury cruise ship operating between England and Bermuda before WWII. Bunks occupied every available space on the Monarch, including the swimming pool. However, the Monarch did have a nicely appointed officers lounge complete with overstuffed chairs, divans, and a bar, which was opened after we were at sea. We were amazed at the furniture in the lounge and the bar; US Navy transports are pristine, no furniture that might be a fire hazard was permitted, and liquor was strictly prohibited. When we commented to the British naval officers that the overstuffed chairs might constitute a fire hazard, they laughed. Their answer was that we were going into battle and we might as well be as comfortable as possible while we could. What possible additional damage could a few sticks of furniture do if we were hit and sinking? The bar opened in the early evening and closed at 11 PM—just like the pubs in Britain. However, 24 hours before going into action, the bar was closed. We spent many lively evenings in the Monarch’s lounge.

The convoy steamed westward out of sight of land on the morning of October 27. We knew that we had to pass through the straights of Gibraltar, and on the evening of November 6^th we saw a glow off the port beam which was correctly taken to be Spain, a non-belligerent and hence no need of blackouts. At approximately 10 PM a single glow on the starboard side marked Tangiers while Gibraltar, on the port beam was dark. In order to deceive German intelligence, we steamed eastward past Oran, Sicily and Malta in hopes that our final destination would be taken to be somewhere in the Eastern Mediterranean perhaps as reinforcements for British troops in Cyprus, Turkey, Cairo and/or Suez. After passing Malta, we turned around at night and headed back west toward Oran.

British Admiral Troubridge, commander of the naval forces and his staff, Major General Friedendall, commander of II Corps and his staff, Teddy Roosevelt and his staff, Col Stark and his staff, held a meeting with all the officers of the 2^nd Battalion CT26 in the former ballroom of the Monarch. The atmosphere was electric; flags complete with battle streamers adorned the stage. A band played martial music. Admiral Troubridge spoke first, followed by Generals Friedendall, Allen, Roosevelt, and lastly, Col. Stark. They outlined the "big Picture" of the invasion, code named "TORCH". The British 1^st Army under General Anderson was to take Algiers, and the American II Corps, Oran. The theme of the speeches was the same, to wit: This is the first time American troops will be in an offensive action in this war and it must succeed. Failure is not an option regardless of what the French might do. Just what the French might do was unknown—would they fight, put up only token resistance, or surrender without resisting? Everyone was tense with excitement and anticipation!

Finally, Col. Stark was introduced. He said that there is not much I can add, everything has been pretty well covered………………Oh yes, there is one thing. We’re going to issue little American flags to every soldier. The flags are about so big, indicating with his fingers (approximately 1.5" by 3.5"). They have sticky paper on the back, which can be peeled off. Every man will remove the sticky paper and sew a flag on his left sleeve, shoulder high, for identification purposes. "If you capture an enemy vehicle, just slap one on the windshield and we dugout hounds (his term for the rear echelon troops) will know that vehicle is OK. If you search a house and find it clean, just slap one on the door, and we’ll know that house is OK, and if you find a friendly woman, just slap one on her ass! That last remark brought down the house. It was just what was needed to relieve the tension.

The ground forces were under the command of Major General Friedendall, CG II Corps. D-day was November 8, 1942, and H hour was 1:00 AM. CT26, under command of BG Teddy Roosevelt, Jr., would land at Les Andalouses east of Oran and drive west to take the city and surrounding high ground. The rest of the Division would land at Arzeu, drive east and take the city and high ground from the East. It was not until then did we learn our final destination, Oran, Algeria—when it would be too late for the Germans or Italians to react in the event the ships were hit and some personnel were captured.

The weather in Oran was quite warm when we landed dressed in our winter woolen uniforms, carrying gas masks, packs and lots of other equipment. The north coast of Algeria is separated from the Sahara Desert by a range of mountains, giving it a climate similar to that of the south coast of continental Europe. As we moved toward our positions east of Oran we soon began discarding lots of things such as excess clothing and gas masks. I don’t believe the Division ever carried gas masks again.

The  sides of the road were littered with discarded items, giving the Arabs a field day for scavaging.

The 1^st Ranger Battalion had the mission of capturing the harbor—a mission that was to end in disaster. The seaport of Oran was a small U-shaped quay, roughly 100 yards wide, with concrete docks, and protected by a submarine net. One unit of the Rangers on a small craft much like a Coast Guard cutter was to crash the net and take the port. The boat was literally blown out of the water by a French gun ship warped up at the quay. The French let the Rangers crash the net, enter the quay, and then demolished their boat at point blank range, killing all on board. Two or three days later, we visited the dock area, to watch salvage crews, using small row boats equipped with outboard motors, speed in tight circles, churning up the water to bring the bodies to the surface. The corpses were jet black and bloated, due to exposure to the salt water. It was a gruesome sight, indeed!

The two airports around Oran, La Senia and Tafaraoui were to be seized quickly by Parachute battalions from the 503^rd Parachute Infantry

The big question at the time was, "What will the French do?" We prepared for the eventuality that they would fight. F Company, 2^nd Battalion, CT 26 was one of the units leading the assault on the beach at Les Andalouses in the first wave, and my platoon was a leading platoon. Recall that we had practiced landings in Scotland under the guidance of the British Commandos. Stealth, quietness, and quickness was the modus operandi! We loaded into the landing craft and headed toward the beach. Being in the leading boat, I carefully stuck my head up to see what the beach looked like and saw two small lights, red and green, marking the boundaries of the landing area. About fifty yards off shore, our landing craft struck a sand bar, the coxswain lowered the ramp, and told us to get off. After wading through rather deep water, we finally reached dry land, soaking wet up to our armpits, and were greeted by a bloke with a typical English accent saying over a bull-horn something like, "Step lively chaps! Clear the beach off to your left. There are more boats coming right behind you!" All that was missing was a band playing the "Stars and Stripes Forever" and some cheer leaders in scanty costumes!

We met only token resistance while the big guns of HMS Rodney pounded the coastal batteries on a hill protecting Oran. By November 10^th, the fighting was over. The fall of Oran was not very dramatic! As infantry and armored columns moved into the city, the sidewalks were crowded with civilian onlookers. As a whole the population was friendly but somewhat passive. There was no great celebration over being liberated! CT26 was assigned an area in the Division assembly and bivouac area on the outskirts of Oran.

Terry Allen designated two brothels, one for enlisted men and one for officers that were staffed with MPs and a medical unit. These were very elaborate, even what might be considered POSH, and had one of the best bars in town. If you visited one, you had to take a prophylactic whether or not use was made of their other facilities. Recall Terry Allen was a WWI veteran and knew that boys will be boys. It is also well known that venereal disease was very prevalent in the AEF in France during "the war to end wars." His objective was not to have that scourge happen again to his troops in North Africa. By the way, all other houses of ill repute were strictly "off limits" and patrolled by the MPs

One of the first things we did was to visit Lieutenant Kushnaroff, hospitalized with shrapnel wounds in his buttocks. A shell burst in the tree branches above him when he was lying in the prone position, peppering his buttocks with small bits of shrapnel. He was awake and quite cheerful, only complaining about having to lie on his stomach. All he wanted was a bottle of wine. The following day, we returned with a jug of wine to find him dead from a blood clot to his heart.

We also visited the coastal batteries on the hills protecting Oran. Before and during the landing operation, the costal defense batteries in their emplacements on the hill side protecting Oran, were totally obscured by smoke and dust from the very heavy shelling by HMS Rodney. We were anxious to see just what damage this shelling caused. Amazingly there was no damage except for one gun whose breach was open when a shell burst nearby. The concussion sprung the hinge of the breach so badly that it could no longer be closed. A shell from these same coastal batteries hit the Monarch of Bermuda killing a British naval officer. To the best of my knowledge, the Monarch suffered no other casualties and slight damage.

We had scarcely settled in our bivouac area when on November 23^rd, the 3rd Battalion was flown to Youk les Bains in Tunisia. They took up a position outposting the south and east approaches to the Atlas Mountains. General Giroud and the British V Corps took up a position in Tunisia from the Mediterranean southward. Next CT26 and the entire Division headed by truck to Tunisia. The first week in February, 1943, the entire 1^st Division was in action from Medjez el Bab in the north to Gafsa in the south, an airline distance over 200 miles.

I dropped the phone, ran off the road into the open field and hit the dirt. The two wiremen took cover in the ditch by their phone. The plane dropped a bomb that hit the phone dead center. It could not have been more accurately placed if it had been put there by hand! The bomb exploded and left a hole big enough to hold a 2½-ton truck, and a large fragment landed on my back. Fortunately, it landed flat, otherwise, I would not be writing this now. A huge hole replaced the telephone and two wiremen. I argued in vain, to report the two wiremen killed, but a person could only be reported dead if there were an identifiable piece of remains. The intense training during maneuvers stressing "clear the road" during an air attack paid dividends for me. During the NC maneuvers, we were pelted with ¼ lb paper sacks of flour tossed out of low flying planes. Being hit with a "flour sack" left a lasting impression as well as some smarts.

I was ordered to contact the 3^rd Battalion in position east of Macknassy. That battalion had modified their jeeps by cutting a hole through the body just to the rear of the engine compartment on the passenger side. They mounted a machine gun pedestal through that hole and welded it to the floor. This provided a means of defense against the continuing Luftwaffe attacks. I was to determine just how that was done, and bring the information back to the rest of the CT. Soon all the regiment’s jeeps were so modified.

Sometime after the debacle at Kasserine Pass, General George Patton assumed command of US Forces in Tunisia, and General Bradley took command of the II Corps, replacing Friedendall. According to the History Channel, Gen Eisenhower visited Friedendall’s CP and found him in a bombproof dugout. Friedendall was relieved on the spot.

My one and only recollection of Patton was his order that officers must wear helmets, leggings and neckties at all times. Failure to do so would result in a $25 fine. So off to battle we went wearing our neckties. We were told that this requirement was supposed to boost our morale. I must confess, it did not do a thing for my morale!

The Division was ordered to take a position on the left flank of the British who were deployed from the Mediterranean southward. Being on the British right flank, the Division had to cross through the British supply lines—a tricky maneuver. Because of German air superiority, the movement was made at night and according to a strict time table; i.e., we had to clear specific cross roads at definite times. The rigorous motor convoy training by Thomas D. Drake back in the states, paid handsome dividends!

Initially, the Italians provided token resistance in Tunisia; however, after El Alamein, The British 8^th Army pushed Rommel’s forces west along the Mediterranean coast into Tunisia. The 2^nd Battalion, CT26, commanded by LTC John Corley, engaged in a battle with some units of the Africa Korps occupying one ridge, we were on another, and a broad valley separated the two forces. After an engagement, the valley was littered with wounded and dead, both German and US. John Corley led the Battalion medical detachment in a column of twos, and holding a Red Cross flag, marched them out from our position into the valley and started picking up the wounded. While we watched in amazement, the Germans sent their aid men out and started doing the same. Soon, the two forces intermingled and we watched two of our aid men, and two Germans carrying a stretcher back to our aid station. The same happened on the German side—our aid men with Germans carried stretchers back to their aid station. About ½ a day was spent policing up the battlefield, then the medical personnel withdrew back to their respective sides, and we resumed the war.

We had nothing but respect for the Afrika Korps. They were very well trained veterans, and outstanding soldiers. I venture to say that if Erwin Rommel received support from Der Fuhrer, the war in North Africa would have taken a far different turn.

I was transferred to "L" Company as exec to Captain Steve Morrissey, the company commander. A day or two before the armistice in Tunisia on May 13^th, 1943, L company occupied a position on one of the many Tunisian hills. I was with a platoon protecting our right flank, when two German soldiers on patrol came down the hill about 50 or so yards from us. I fired my carbine and one of the two dropped—the other ran back up a gully to his unit’s position. This occurred in the morning. We remained in position, and later that night or early the next morning we got word that the war in North Africa was over. Because he was the only enemy I knew that I shot, I wanted to see if he was dead or merely wounded. When I got up to him, I saw that my shot went right in his ear and killed him instantly. I went through his pockets and saw he had some letters and photos presumably of his family, and a few French francs. He had a black leather belt with a large military belt buckle with the German eagle which I wanted as a souvenir. I tried to undo the belt, but the body had swollen after lying under the African sun making it impossible to unsnap the buckle. As a last resort, I knelt over him with my knee in his abdomen and tried to unsnap the buckle while I put all my weight on my knee. Instead of loosening the buckle, he let out a low groan that scared the daylights out of me. I jumped up and started running, but after a few steps, I realized that the soldier was dead and it was only gas from the decomposing body! I never did get my souvenir.

After the order came down to remain in position until the CT was relieved by a reserve unit, Steve Morrissey decided to try to find a German staff car. Off the two of us went in the company jeep looking for German vehicle parks. We headed north toward Bizerte on the Mediterranean coast. We found several German staff cars, but, as Bill Mauldin said in one of his cartoons, "those dirty atrocity committing %$@#?" either took or destroyed the distributor caps.

We pulled into Bizerte and found the city absolutely deserted but unscathed—not a soul or animal was in sight. We finally found a wine shop, so we liberated a couple of bottles. Next, we stumbled upon an undamaged, lavish apartment house (also deserted). We climbed up the stairs to the 2^nd or 3^rd floor ( I don’t remember which) and found an excellent apartment. The two of us, with our jugs of vino, celebrated our victory until we probably passed out and flopped onto the bed. The next morning the city was alive with rear echelon troops, so we figured we had better get back to our unit before some MPs started asking questions. We had parked our jeep in the apartment building’s underground garage and headed back to the company. We had a good laugh after reading a story in the Stars and Stripes (army newspaper) about how the US troops captured Bizerte.

After a few days relaxing in our bivouac area, the Division was moved back to an assembly area just outside of Oran. The order came down to give all men, except for the necessary guard and fatigue details, a pass to go into town. We were to wear the best uniforms we had which were not very GI after the Tunisian campaign. I was assigned to an MP detail in Oran. A Lt. Colonel who commanded the MPs issued an order to me as well as all other officers assigned to the detail, to cite at least 25 soldiers for being "out of uniform" or any other misdeed. We argued as much as we could, but there was nothing that we could do but comply. What a difference in philosophy from the 1^st Division MPs! The citations were promptly discarded when they eventually filtered down to units.

After a few days, General Terry Allen again assembled the Division. I remember his speech going something like the following: "We took this damn city once, and we can take it again." It does not take a rocket scientist to imagine what happened next. The men went into town by units and woe be unto any rear echelon troops, officer or enlisted man, that showed his face. The rear echelon troops, wearing clean, pressed summer cotton uniforms were easily identifiable. The 1^st Division troops were still in our dirty, winter woolens that we wore into combat. Identification was a snap! In one evening, the Division had the town back under control. The Stars and Stripes came out with a banner headline, "The 2^nd time the 1^st Division took Oran." (I’d give anything for a copy of that issue)

It was not long until the Division assembled in an area outside the city of Constantine, and began preparing for another invasion. We did not know where or when; however it was not long until we loaded up on vessels for the invasion of Sicily on July 10, 1943.

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