(Neuhaus, Germany, April 3rd, 1945.)

Eyeballs scanned the skyline in the first platoon OP; the boys were looking for "krauts." Suddenly one pair clicked, stopped and retraced the terrain. 'There he is; a sniper, a 'kraut' sniper, see his helmet. Get Frazier, get Glacken, get the hell out of here and open firel' Feet flew over the attic stairs and down into the cellar where the boys had 'requisitioned' a cabinet of fruit. When the observer brought the information down, several of the boys hurriedly moved upstairs and started looking for their weapons. They didn't want to miss this. Glacken was the first to find the location. 'I've found him and this is the time to use my new carbine grenade launcher', he thought. Silently, he sneaked away to the ammunition bags and pulled out a grenade. Then he discovered he had one mounted and ready. 'Gad I should have remembered I always carry one ready, what time I've wasted.' He hurried to a better

position, moving in his typical Glackin crouch. After placing his carbine in what he thought was the proper angle, he fired. Much to his surprise, the grenade struck within fifty feet of him. The shrapnel scattered all those gathered close by to witness the great feat. After several minutes, panic subsided and work resumed. Braun moved forward with a much more dangerous and accurate weapon, the rifle grenade. He aimed (holding his breath) and fired (exhaling). It was close. 'Look, he's digging in. See his shovel.' Roggenbach fired and fell back. The target moved. 'Look, he's taking off his helmet, see his hair. No, he's . rolling over for his canteen, see his arm sticking out.' Tesmer, Felter, and Traylor laid down a base of fire. . . . The target was hit! Still it occasionally moved and so the boys pumped more rounds into the shed and watched. It was then that the horse got up and slowly walked away.

(Werl, Germany, April 2nd, 1945)

It happened on the approaches to Werl. Pfc. Callahan was with the halftracks waiting for the C.P. to be called up when a mortar round caught him in a barnyard.... He suffered a very slight wound in the left thigh which "stung like hell" . . . . Callahan promptly made for the comparative safety of a barn. Disregarding the fact that the barn was already occupied by a large wagon. Callahan hurled himself over the wagon and landed in a fresh steaming pile of manure. Then to heap insult on injury, Viehmyer brought Callahan into a

'kraut' house already occupied by an odd dozen or so bewildered frauleins. Callahan was wounded in the upper left thigh which fact necessitated the removal of his trousers to expose the wound. Callahan was reluctant to expose himself to such an unappreciative audience and refused to do so until the "krauts" were made to leave. Although Viehmyer tried his best to make the frauleins leave they were determined to wait him out. Finally, Callahan consented to remove his trousers amid a torrent of muttered abuses about the 'morals' of the damned Germans.

(Blankenburg woods, April 20th, 1945)

Tension reigned in every foxhole. Which squad was going to have to go on patrol? Headquarters squad (of the second platoon) lost the toss. With Patterson in the lead the squad moved out, constantly on the alert for

an enemy ambush. Halfway out Sgt. Pat turned to look at Pfc. Spears. With astonishment written all over his face he asked 'Spears, where is your rifle?' After thinking for about twenty minutes (Spears is a quick thinker) he exclaimed, 'Gosh, I guess I forgot it!'