(Rheinberg, Germany, March 13th, 1945)

In wars of the past, soldiers have been known to carry little good luck charms. We wonder what Sgt. Harry Miller of the second platoon was carrying? In the advance from Lintfort to Rheinberg, bullets (enemy, of course) were flying all over the place and Harry was there . . . . . on his belly . . . . . munching grass. He had to stay low if he ever wanted to get up again. Well, anyhow, came the inevitable bullet and Harry said goodbye to his coat-tails, and amazingly so, Miller was still standing . . . . . . Into Rheinberg we went - - - with Harry, and the 'Jerries' in their own

little way said, - - - quote, 'CRUNCH', unquote . . . . . Again our 'hero' was in the way, so, ZING went his shovel handle - - - Harry was STILL STANDING, a little peeved by now . . . . . . Then to Neuhaus and there we hob-nobbed with the enemy, but, the reputation of one Sgt. Harry Miller must have spread because they started to pop at poor old Harry again. 'Why don't they leave me alone', to himself said he. Well by this time Miller was pretty angry and must have been confiding to his God, but Harry didn't get out of the way in time and then, 'Ping', the helmet flew from his head but again our boy remained unscathed! ! !

(Venlo, Holland, March 21st, 1945)

Black, under the influence of the V-2 bomb fuel served on the night of March 22 in Tyer's bar, had a sudden urge to relieve himself of meals eaten on the 18, 19, 20, 21 and 22 of March. After navigating himself into his Dutch home (as only a man with size 15B shoes can do) he decided the water closet was his next objective. After arriving safely through many obstacles (two doors, a kitchen table, and a rug) he was ready. Being a little top heavy he decided that his head should be

that his head should be closer to his objective. Suddenly the unforeseen happened, he couldn't get his head out. Grosmama, the proprietor of the establishment, happened to appear on the scene and seeing her boy 'Jock' playing ostrich in the commode, ran upstairs screaming to Spears about Black's predicament. She hoped that the water closet would be flushed (not) before Black could be rescued! But he was saved and after cleaning himself and regaining his 6' 4" poise, he passed out cold.

W A L K I N G W A L L = G R E E N S

Have you ever seen 'Moe' Sant's pockets? They are never empty and this walking store can just about produce anything. A survey of his pockets may reveal something like this . . . . . Coffee, cigarettes, pins, candy, canned and K rations, medicine bottles, remedies, sugar, string, corkscrews, knives, tobacco, and what not. While we were in action at Neuhaus everybody was nervous and on edge. We were momentarily held up in some houses near the edge of the city and while the rest of the company gathered around in

groups talking in tense voices of the coming push - - - Sant, unconcernedly strolled over to a corner and sitting down began methodically searching his bulging pockets. Item after item poured out of his pockets until after much squirming and pulling he brought forth a can of cheese, some biscuits and even his dessert. Placing everything in front of him he began to eat. Munching contentedly he surveyed the rest of the fellows, as if to say, 'why don't you eat?' Kaylor as he always done in the past walked away muttering to himself, 'what a John, what a John'