On the evening of November 6, 1944, we boarded a train for transportation to the Brooklyn Naval Yard where we were to be assigned to the USS Marine Devil, a troop ship, as part of a huge envoy which would begin the long journey to England on the following day. Some 2,000 of us were hustled into the USS Marine Devil and, suffice it to say, it was no luxury ship. The quarters were extremely cramped and feeding that many G.I.s was a formidable task. From early morning until early evening, there was a perpetual chow line. There definitely was some diminution of hungry soldiers the first two days after embarkation due to sea sickness. I would estimate that perhaps over half of the G.I.s were affected including, unfortunately, myself. After that, most recovered quite quickly and had no further problems with that particular phase of the trip.

November 7, 1944. The day of embarkation.

It was also U.S. Election Day and to no one's surprise, Franklin Delano Roosevelt was elected for a fourth term. To us who were about to embark on the most crucial adventure of our lives, the election had no particular significance. We knew that regardless of who was President, we were in for the long haul and there would be no turning back until our mission had been accomplished.

As we sailed out of New York, I took one last look at the Statue of Liberty and wondered if I would ever see it again. I also looked at the line of ships which comprised our convoy and it was truly an awesome sight. There were ships on either side of us as far as the eye could see. Next to our ship was a British destroyer which acted as our escort for the journey across the Atlantic. In addition to the destroyer escort, the convoy also zigzagged continuously as a protective maneuver against German U-boats which were seeking to torpedo Allied shipping whenever the opportunity presented itself. Fortunately, no ships in our convoy were intercepted. On our ship, we had drills on the procedure to be followed in case it became necessary to abandon ship. Having to jump into the cold Atlantic waters in mid-November was not exactly a pleasant thought.

After enduring the sometimes stormy and turbulent waters of the Atlantic, we finally docked at Southampton, England, ten days after leaving New York. This was the first trip to a foreign country for most of us and we were naturally curious as to what awaited us as we disembarked from the USS Marine Devil and climbed aboard an English train which was to take us to Tidworth, England. This was to be our staging area prior to crossing the English Channel and moving into the French and German combat sectors.

Upon docking at Southampton, my first impressions of England were: dark, misty, very few lights. Of course, it was wartime and one should not expect an environment more comparable to that found in unscathed countries, such as the United States. And one had to admire the British for their willingness and stubbornness to resist to the very last German war machine which, up to that point, had conquered much of Europe. Even with our help, it was obvious that an Allied victory was not going to be achieved easily and without more blood, sweat and tears.

Reaching Tidworth, we were directed to a mud-caked billeting area named Windmill Hill. We were then assigned to pyramidal tents which were designed to accommodate eight G.I.s per tent. Each tent included a small coal stove for heating purposes. However, because of the limited supply of coal, we were rationed one small bucket of coal each day, which could only be used at night. With no heat during the day and leaky tents which allowed rain water to drip on equipment and clothing, it was not the most desirable of accommodations. Still, it was a lot better than living in a foxhole as many G.1.s, especially the infantry, were required to do when engaged in combat operations against the enemy.

Training continued while we were at Tidworth. To alleviate the extent to which we took steps to minimize any negative reaction by our English friends, each time that our vehicles came off the field after completion of tactical maneuvers, we were required to knock off any mud that may have accumulated on our vehicles before entering a gravel road or highway. It was also recognition perhaps that the English had more urgent priorities than roadway maintenance.

Not all of our time in England could be described as dull and boring. We were, for example, given passes to visit London. To add an element of excitement, London was at the time subject to V-I and V-2 rocket bombs which the German launched from sites across the English Channel. As a matter of fact, the first enemy missile that came in my direction occurred when I was in the Victoria railroad station standing near an English policeman ('bobby). All of a sudden, I heard a loud explosion which shook the station. The bobby standing next to me flopped to the floor on his stomach, while I did not move since I had no idea of what was going on. When the bobby got up, I asked him what the explosion meant and he said that it was a V-2 rocket which had landed and exploded perhaps within a mile of the station. There was no doubt that the barrage of V-I and V-2 rockets fired by the Germans had a deep negative impact on the British population because of the randomness of the rockets and the severe damage which they caused.

Despite the threat of V-1 and V-2 bombs, my stay in London was rather enjoyable and allowed me to visit some historical sites as Westminster Abbey, Number 10 Downing Street and other places of similar interest. I even attended a London Philharmonic symphony concert conducted by the famous conductor, Sir Thomas Beecham at the Royal Albert Hall. A sign in front of the stage directed the audience to go to a bomb shelter in the basement in case of an air raid. Fortunately, there was no raid and we enjoyed the concert.

Another well-known gathering place in London was Piccadilly Circus, which was considered the heart of the city. During the blackout at night, people milled about, especially the ladies of the night, using penlight flashlights. As most GJ.s who became familiar with Piccadilly Circus will attest, it was quite a scene never to be forgotten.

On December 16, 1944, Hitler launched his Ardennes offensive. At first, we were not aware of the magnitude of the attack. But when it became clear that this was a major offensive, we knew that as a combat division we, too, would play a role in stemming the German advance. And so it came about that in early January, 1945, we returned to Southampton and began boarding LSTs (Landing Ship Tank) which would take us across the English Channel and into France. We left Southampton late evening and early the next morning I was awakened by an officer shouting, "Everybody on deck! This is no drill." We scrambled topside and some distance away we could hear and see a British ship dropping depth charges. We never did learn the outcome, but it was assumed that the British ship had made some kind of contact with a German submarine. Luckily, none of our ship suffered any damage.

Our destination in France was the port of Le Havre. As we approached the docking area, it was obvious that the port had been severely damaged probably by aerial bombardments. Sunken ships littered the harbor and the docks were covered by piles of debris. After some skillful maneuvering, our LST finally was able to dock and we began unloading our equipment and vehicles immediately. With the Battle of the Bulge still raging in the north, there was an urgency to commit combat diversions, such as ours, as quickly as possible.

As soon as we had finished unloading, we moved out as an armor column and began heading toward Rouen and then to Reims, which was approximately 175 miles farther to the east. Without question, the trip to Reims was one of the most bone-chilling and miserable experiences of my life. We rode in an open jeep and with the temperature hovering near the zero mark and all of the driving being under blackout conditions with only a sliver of light for road illumination; it was something that one would never forget. I made a vow to myself as we moved along that should I ever get out of the Army alive, I would never again allow myself to get that cold and miserable for the rest of my life.

We finally reached Reims and looked forward to a brief respite from the cold and generally miserable weather conditions. Thinking that we would at least spend the night there, I pitched my pup tent and padded my sleeping bag with several extra blankets that had been issued because of the cold weather. In addition, I was in the possession of a small Coleman stove which I had planned on using as an additional source of heat during the night if needed. Looking forward to a comfortable night's sleep, I was rudely awakened by the voice of one of our sergeants who, in typical Army fashion, yelled that we were moving out again and that we should be ready to mount up as quickly as possible. Holy Christ, I thought, what now? It turned out that we, being the reconnaissance unit for the division, had been given the responsibility of posting the various crossroads and intersections when the division as a whole began moving the next day toward its final objective in the combat area. Each significant intersection was to be covered by a two man recon team whose responsibility was to direct Division traffic and make sure that they remained in the right route.

After throwing our gear together, my buddy and I took off in or jeep and headed for the French village which we had been assigned for posting. Upon arriving in the village some hour or so later, it was just past midnight and we decided to slip into our sleeping bags and catch a little "shut eye" before the Division started moving through later that morning. Being exhausted, I fell asleep almost immediately. A few hours later, I was suddenly awakened by a babble of voices near my sleeping bag. I unzipped my bag, which was covered by snow that had fallen during the night.

As I looked at the group of people surrounding us, it became apparent that they were French villagers who obviously were feeling sorry for us because we had been sleeping in the snow. After a few minutes of fractured English and French conversation, we gratefully accepted their invitation to come out of the cold and have breakfast with one of the families.

It was a thoroughly enjoyable experience made even warmer by my first taste of a strong, tasty French liquor called Calvados, which we understood was made from potatoes. The taste, however, did not compare favorably with American liquor, although the net effect might be the same. After thanking our French hosts for their hospitality, we returned to our post and spent the rest of the morning directing Division traffic.

When the final vehicle had cleared our checkout, we threw our gear together and got ready to move to our ultimate destination, Pont-a-Mousson, which was near the historic city of Metz that had recently been captured by General George Patton's Third Army. Fear of a possible large scale offensive by the Germans was one of the principal reasons why the 8th Armored Division was being rushed to the Metz area. Fortunately, a large scale attack never materialized and we remained in a holding pattern while committing some units to actual battle near the city of Nennig for the purpose of gaining combat experience.

By mid-January, the situation had stabilized and it was decided by higher echelons (including perhaps General Eisenhower himself) that the 8th Armored division would be transferred to the Ninth Army under General Simpson which was headquartered in Holland. We then began our journey northward and eventually reached our destination of Valkenberg, a resort city in Holland. As we moved through Belgium on our way to Holland, we saw several German V-I rockets streaking through the night sky on their way to such target cities as Antwerp. The V-I s emitted a deep throated roar while spewing a bright plume of red fire from the rear end of the rocket. We promptly dubbed the V-Is as 'red asses'. The danger arose when the rocket engine suddenly cut out which meant that the rocket bomb was starting its downward pitch and was ready to explode on contact. Fortunately, the VIs, which we saw were meant for other destinations, and had no effect on us.