So ended the most thrilling period of our combat experience, with most of us in comfortable beds, for a few precious hours completely unmindful of the existence of all else save 'Peace on Earth good will to men'.

For nearly a full three weeks, the period from March 11th to April 1st, we basked in the pleasant environments of Venlo. On April 2nd, with fond farewells, we tore ourselves away from the comfortable homes of our Dutch hosts. We definitely saw the glimmer of tears in many a housewife's eyes as the men and women waved their goodbyes. Once out of the city our column headed away on the road to Germany.

We rode all that night, and just at the break of dawn our convoy reached the Rhine River over which the great Allied offensive had stormed a couple days previously. The crossing of the Rhine on U. S. Engineer-built pontoon bridge was truly one of the most sensational experiences in our log book. As our long line of half tracks rolled over the bridge we could not help but feel pride at the vast achievement accomplished by the U. S. Army. We knew then for certain that there was 'no job too large'.

After reaching the eastern bank of the river our convoy climbed onto the road leading eastward to Paderborn. Desolation and destruction lay about us on every side. It was as if some gigantic, prehistoric monster had returned to wreck vengeance upon the mortals who had taken his world. As we neared Paderborn we halted for a hurried lunch of 'K' rations and to refuel our thirsty iron horses. Then we proceeded on once more - - but only for a short distance as forward elements had contacted the enemy on the road leading to Neuhaus. The mortar, and later the assault gun platoons, moved forward to give support to the line companies. We learned, after the battle which ensued, that a group of our men had been ambushed in the town resulting in the death of two and the capture of several.

That night was another miserable one for it rained intermittently, wetting us only too thoroughly as we huddled in our half-tracks trying to get a little sleep. The cold of night reached in through our wet clothing to chill the very marrow in our bones. The rain persisted in keeping us uncomfortable till late the next afternoon. It was that day, April 4th, our battalion was placed in Division reserve and we moved out to Geseke where we linked up with the First Infantry Division of the First U. S. Army, verifying reports we had heard of the Ruhr pocket being closed.

Now we turned and rolled westward - - driving a wedge hard into the Ruhr pocket. The mortar platoon once again moved up to support the rifle companies and took good advantage of a heavy morning fog, which cloaked their position, to fire round upon round. As our company moved slowly forward we noted enthusiastically that there were scores of 'eliminated' German 88s in the area. By noon of the 5th, our unit had captured Bad Sassendorf. It was in this locality that we found the roads jammed with tens of thousands of displaced persons and ex-prisoners of war of the Germans; French, Poles, Russians, Czechs - - all streaming out of the towns and cities the Huns were leaving before our onward push.

Moving ahead, in West Onner our platoons set up positions in support of the line companies. In a matter of hours that town, too, was cleared, and our steady advance into the pocket brought us into Werl. This town had taken a shellacking from our artillery and was in a sad condition. Its inhabitants still had that dazed, stunned look about them. In the general confusion that heralded our entrance into the place, the newly-freed slave laborers, ('Polskies' and 'Rooskies') entered debris filled stores through the smashed plate glass windows and systematically looted" everything of value. We paused only for several hours in Werl and then continued on to Holstern where the Company spent the night.

Early the next morning our task force assaulted the town of Unna. That was a hot, sharp engagement with the Jerries fighting stubbornly and fanatically. Our assault gun platoon drove their M-4 tanks right up where the fight was thickest and did meritorious work with their 105's. In the afternoon of the next day, the 12th, our Combat Command was relieved and we slipped unobtrusively out of the pocket which we had helped shrink considerably and our 'iron-clad snake' (with apologies to Newsweek) hit the road.

The fourteenth of April found us in Derenberg, Germany, securing the town and getting a bit of a breathing spell before shoving off to our next objective. Here in Derenberg, we had what is known in G. I. jargon as a 'Good deal'. We were billeted in a large building which formerly housed the offices of an electrical plant. Our duties were almost entirely narrowed down to guard. But those shifts of guard duty at night were tense, nerve-wearing, lengthy hours. We were not troubled to any extent by Krauts - - now and then two or three would try to infiltrate into the town - - hardly a one succeeded. The greatest furor created while we occupied the town was the night that an American motor convoy, consisting mostly of ambulances, drove in without warning. We all became highly excited, believing that a Jerry convoy was sneaking in and, in a matter of seconds all our guns, including the assault gun'S 105's, were zeroed in on the convoy. The Captain in charge of the suspected convoy made his identity known not a minute too soon!

Six days after arriving in Derenberg, on April 10th to be exact, the Company left for the Harz Mountains. We travelled to Blankenburg which our unit took with some opposition from the Hun. The next day we rolled on to Elbingerode where we moved into homes (after evicting the occupants). Two days later, April 23rd, we continued our roaming, and rode up the Harz Mountains to the little town of Rubeland, which, in peacetime, was a mountain resort for vacationers. However, our 'vacation' in Rubeland from the 23rd April to the 7th of May, was a rather busy one for us. We scoured the surrounding hills and wooded areas with a fine tooth comb for members of the German Wehrmacht and we found 'beaucoup' Jerries hiding from us, but not hidden quite well enough. The Company also opened an elite P. W. cage in the Rubeland railroad station in which to keep our 'guests'.

It was in this town, too, that we found the time and occasion to set up elaborate road blocks. Our super-duper road block was something to see. It was a complex affair consisting of two large bins full of rock on both sides of the street and a huge pole which crossed the road, plus a mess of pulleys and ropes. An electric sign which said "Halt" and a couple of spotlights added to the fancy jumble.

Our quarters in Rubeland were almost 'swank'. The Company 'requisitioned' a hotel called the Grune Tanne, and there was almost enough rooms to give each man one. Well, anyway, there was a bed for every man.

Our life in Rubeland, such as it was, went serenely on till May 7th, when the restless 'Show Horse' decided to move again. This time we headed not into combat but back to a quiet and rather peaceful German town named Uslar. This town had been bypassed by the war, it seemed - - a demolished railroad bridge being practically the only sign of war's violence. The day after we arrived in Uslar we learned that the war had ended. We had been hearing so many rumors to that effect during the past week that the news came as no surprise. We did not spend much time cheering and celebrating either. We intended to have our celebration back in the old home town. There was still that war with Japan, remember?

In Uslar we became garrison soldiers as of the days back in Camp Polk, Louisiana. A training schedule was carried out each day. Our uniforms became substantially cleaner and we1I pressed. And we began to walk through German streets without being armed to the teeth. Our Company first had been billeted in various homes after ousting the occupants, but after a few days had elapsed, we moved into a large schoolhouse and made ourselves a rather comfortable abode.

We remained in Uslar nearly a full month. Then our outfit received orders to move to Rokycany, Czechoslovakia. On June fifth we left Uslar to a British unit and we reached Rokycany in the late afternoon of the next day. In Rokycany, we took over a large brick barrack that had been former German barracks. We continued our garrison style of living here, but we also had P. W.s to chase. Now we come to that part of our tale which says 'finis'. We can go no further. Our unit awaits 'further orders'. If to the Pacific we must go we shall keep our sleeves rolled up in the traditional manner . . . . . . but a sight of home would be a blessing from above . . . . . .

. . . . . , So, as all things, good or bad, must eventually draw to an end, we terminate our story. But before we conclude it, let's shift our positions so that we can all look into the fire in the hearth, and as we watch the orange, red, yellow leaping flames rise into curls of smoke we shall allow ourselves to meditate on serious thought . . . . . .

That sure was a swell bunch of guys which made Headquarters Company through out those days of 1944-45. Yes, a darn good bunch of Joes. They had faults - - but then, who hasn't? There might have been scores of times when you'd become slightly piffed off at some of them - - but when it came to a pinch - - when the going got tough - - when we faced the common foe - - they were all there with you, working with you, fighting beside you. Always there to extend a helping hand if you'd stumble - - to pick you up if you'd fall. To aid you and care for you, if you were hurt, in a tender manner that was strange in fighting men.

Yes, it was the harmony, cooperation and good-will among the men of our Company which caused us all to realize what makes the United States click the way it does. Tho' we were flesh and blood of many nations and of various religions - - when the scream of the shell coming in reached our ears we'd be 'sweating it out' for our buddies as well for ourselves. And after the shock of the shell burst had passed we'd look about to see that those familiar forms and faces were still there unscathed - - and our prayer of thanks to Him would always include our Buddies; those men of different blood, religions and opinions, but all a guy named Joe because there was one BIG thing that they all believed in and agreed on. That the good old U. S. A. had the best way of life and was the best place to live in on this troubled, whirling world. And to a man they were willing to fight for that way of life; and, to a man, they'd fight on eternally to preserve it.