(On route, Polk to Kilmer, Oct. 29th, 1945)

The train pulled into Bristol, Virginia to re-coal and change engine crews. The conductor assured him the train wouldn't leave for at least twenty minutes. So with time to spare Sciubba set forth to purchase some ice-cream for his car. After buying twelve quarts he returned to the station only to see the observation car disappearing in the distance. There he stood with the slowly melting ice-cream, thinking to himself, 'I've done it again, missed the ETO!' Luckily, the station master was a patriotic soul, and wanting everyman to do his part, he arranged passage for Sciubba on the

'Memphis Express'. On board, the ice-cream was put in the dining car refrigerator and Sciubba was put (by his own initiative) in the club car bar where the trip's time was consumed over the glasses of mellow drinks. The 'Memphis Express' beat the troop train to Roanoke, and there stood Sciubba with his arms full of ice-cream waiting on the platform. The train stopped, it's horde of goggle-eyed G. I.'s amazed as to how he had arrived before them. Sciubba had not only retained the ice-cream but had also retained many more drinks than the boys.

JOIN THE ARMY AND SEE THE WORLD

Our week at Kilmer gave many "C" Co. GI's an opportunity to visit the city of light, people and business -- the City of New York. For some it was their first glimpse of this wonder city, for others it was a chance to visit the much publicized, home of the Durocher Dodgers -- the Borough of Brooklyn. But whatever T/5 J. Dellinger (he entered the service from the 'moonshine' state of Virginia) expected to accomplish on his first 12 hour pass to N. Y. is better left to the imagination and the unwritten books of history, for his first famous words as he stepped off the bus on 41st St. and Broadway were, 'I need a beer'. Forgotten were all the interesting sights of N. Y. which he planned to visit; the BEER was vital. Having heard of the Empire State Building in

N. Y. C. at some time or another, John decided that it would be more fun to 'knock-out' a 'shot' or two amid the moon and the stars. Besides, he heard that beer is more potent at higher altitudes. When the express elevator reached the 86th floor, John had to be assisted from the 'lift' by two patriotic citizens. Still crouched (a la Glackin) from the crushing effect of the atmosphere, he staggered to the railing for a breath of air. Pandemonium broke loose when this T/5 saw millions of tiny moving dots before his eyes, lights blinking on and off and the heavens about to crush him from above. Forgotten was the vital BEER. 'Get me out of here! Take me home! Please, anywhere!' That night, at rest in Kilmer, John took no chances when he tied himself to the cot. He occupied the upper berth.

(Moving through France, January 12th, 1945.)

The kitchen was attached to the 36's trains when our forward elements entered Louvigny. Chris was told that he was now on his own as C company was quite some distance from the 36th. When he asked where the company was he was told 'up there someplace'. Therefore in spite of the impending darkness, Chris set

out to find the company. After running through what was later found out to be no-mans-land for some two hours or more, Chris found the company. He promptly got "reamed" by the 'old man' for being on the line. Chris with his usual good nature promptly set up shop and when asked "how come" the holes in the truck's tarpaulin, he nonchalantly answered 'moths'...