XIII.   MORE COMBAT

The Platoon Sgt. was a school teacher. He ordered me to take my squad across an open field and cut off the Tiger tank which was moving. I told him that this idea was suicide, and that the best way was to go up to the edge of the houses and get behind the tank. He asked if I was refusing an order - I told him no, but it was a stupid idea. So I started my squad across the field. About half way across, bullets were flying all around. I had been taught in a case like that, we were to keep running because a machine gun couldn't get on you. I kept everybody going until we got to a shallow ditch. I looked back and one of the guys was lying in the field. About that time, the Tiger tank came moving out the road. It got out in about 40 yards from us and my bazooka man (Strong from Decatur, Il.) raised up and fired the bazooka hitting the tank on the nose. Only a few sparks flew. Just enough to get his attention. They started strafing us in the ditch. The bullets were coming so close I thought I could feel the air from them. Cold chills ran up and down my back when the German gunner on the tank swung the 88mm gun toward us. The bore of the gun looked like it was as big as a tub. About that time, a mortar hit real close to the tank and then another. The tank backed up and moved into the town. The mortar saved our lives.

I got my men and started back across the field. When I got to the guy lying in the field, I saw he was gone physically and mentally. I picked him up and threw him over my shoulder. I was walking along when I heard one of my men yelling frantically. I looked around and a German came crawling out of a foxhole. The guy yelling said he saw the German start to shoot me in the back and the only thing he could do was yell but it worked because the German gave up.

When we got almost across the field, I came upon another G.I. I said are you hit? He said he was hit in the leg. There was another guy lying close to him. I asked if it was Moyer and he said it was and he was dead. I had two of my squad to help the injured G.I. and we made our way back to a house that was sort of a meeting place. When I got back there, I found out that McDill (the school teacher) had followed us with four men. When he came under fire, they all hit the ground and stayed until one was killed and 3 injured, including himself. I had no sympathy for him.

Later in the day, we took that town and was approaching another town by way of a small creek that led into the town. We were crawling along the creek bank when I looked up and a G.I. was leading a buddy in the water down the creek. I recognized the guy as he had been shot in the mouth and it came out his neck. I thought poor devil, if he lived he would be disfigured. In l950, I was checking juke boxes for Tom Sherfick in Corydon, and I remembered this guy's name was Gudgon and he lived in Corydon. I described Gudgon to the guy that owned the restaurant where I was checking the juke box. He said he would get hold of the guy that week and he would have him (Gudgon) to be at the restaurant the following week about the same time. The next week, I was counting money from the juke box and in walked Gudgon. He smiled when he saw me and we had a good conversation. They had done a wonderful job on his teeth, mouth, and face, where the bullet tore through. In fact, he was better looking after the procedure.

A little later, the word came down the creek that Lloyd Parish had just got it. From what I was told, the squad leader was taking his squad over a road by the bridge that went over the creek we were in. The squad leader had told everybody not to cross the road until the guy in front of him had hit the ground on the other side of the road. Evidently, (Parish) got up and followed the guy in front before the guy got across the road. The theory was that the sniper saw the first guy and got his gun zeroed in just in time to get Lloyd. He got Lloyd in the shoulder but didn't kill him. A medic ran up to him and instead of pulling him down under cover, he picked his head up in his arm and the next bullet went through his arm that was holding Lloyd's head and on through Lloyd's head, killing him. This is something I never told his family even though they asked for particulars.

When we went into the town, the first house I searched, I found two U.S. make M-l Garand rifles laying on an upstairs window which could have been one that killed Parish. (Several years later, one day when I was golfing at NWSC, Crane, I, I golfed with a young man named Parish, and on asking him his name, realized he was Lloyd's son that was born after Lloyd went into the service - he never knew his dad. I didn't tell him that I was near his dad when he was killed. I was hungry so there was German freshly cut bologna on the table with dark bread. I made me a sandwich and started eating. Beaney told me I shouldn't eat the sandwich that it could be poisoned. I told him I didn't care. Beaney told me we were moving out, I told him to wait a minute I wanted some fruit. I went down in the basement and got me a jar of white cherries. Beaney and I started up the street with our squad - me with my carbine slung on my shoulder and eating cherries with a fork out of the jar with bullets flying all around. Beaney hesitantly told me to throw those damned cherries away and get that gun off my shoulder because there were Germans in the town. I said piss on them, they can't hit me. I guess I almost lost it due to Parish getting killed and thinking it might have been with American made weapons. In fact, Beaney told me later he was almost afraid to say anything to me in fear that I might shoot him. Beaney and I kept our squads together as much as possible.

We were attacking another town and I noticed one of the boys (Reed) was getting edgy. As we were jumping off, I told my assistant squad leader to take the lead I was going to follow and keep an eye on Reed. I told them we would leave the house one at a time and run to a designated ditch without stopping. Everything was going alright and it was Reed's turn. He ran about half way to the ditch and hit the ground. About that time, one of our tanks pulled along the house with the muzzle even with the door where I was standing. All at once he fired from the house at Germans, my helmet hit the ceiling and spun me and knocked my across the room. When I got to my feet and senses, I noticed Reed was still laying where he was and looked at me, he was crying and shaking. I ran out where he was, grabbed him by the seat of the pants and practically carried him to the ditch. He let out a howl and jumped up to run and the lst Sgt Simino grabbed him and sat on him until the medic got there. I never saw him again. We found if the nervous types were faking it, they would be gone for awhile. If it was serious or permanent, we wouldn't see them again.

One day we were attacking a town that had a displaced person camp or prison, I would call it. My squad was going up a railroad leading into the camp when I noticed a guy sitting on the railroad track. As I got closer, he had a bucket of potatoes that had been boiled with peelings on. He was using both hands to poke them in his mouth. He was skin and bones.

Another day we were traveling along in a column of half-tracks and tanks when we came to a stretch of road that had an embankment with no turn-offs. The Germans knocked out the front vehicle and the back vehicle. The column couldn't go either direction. We came under heavy fire. I looked around for some place to go and I saw a concrete watering trough out in the open field about 6 feet long by 2 feet wide and l l/2 feet deep. I made a bee-line for the trough. I had just got settled in the trough when Strong asked if he could get on top of me. I gladly consented because he gave me cover!

They were raining shells over us. All at once we heard one coming in close, but no explosion. Strong said to me, "Lood here, Carroll." I peeped up over the edge of the water trough and there was a mortar sticking in the ground about 2 feet from us with only the fin sticking out. Thank God for the dud!

We made a bee-line for a house near by. There was an American tank sitting there that had been hit right in the muzzle and peeled it back like a peeled banana.

We were getting ready to attack Dortmund. It was the largest city we had attacked. We were on top of a high hill in a little thicket. I had asked Cooper, the half-track driver, to trade weapons with me. He had a sub-machine gun and I had carried a carbine from the time I left the States. It was light and accurate up to 200 yards. I don't know why I wanted to trade except I thought we might have close combat and the sub-machine gun would be more effective.

We had been milling around on this hill for quite a while. I began to get fidgety, in fact, I made the remark if there was a German in l0 miles of us he could see us. There was a tank right in front of my squad with his motor running. I got so leery of our position, I stepped back a few steps and sat down in a shallow ditch. I heard an officer give the command to "move out." I had just taken a couple of steps forward when there was a big explosion. Three of us were knocked down. The split second when I fell, I could see my assistant squad leader's (Hayden) barrel of his rifle go one direction and the stock go the other way. I could see Poncho (a member of my squad) level out and fall flat. I saw the smoke from the piece of shrapnel that hit the calf of my leg. It stung like a bee at first.

I walked back to the ditch and sat down. Poncho came back to where I was sitting with his hands on his head and shouted, "Am I hit? Am I hit?" I looked him over and couldn't find a mark on him.

I looked up to where Hayden was lying and (Strong), one of my squad, was checking on Hayden. The tank driver got excited and started backing up right toward Hayden lying on the ground. Strong acted quickly and ran around in front of the tank and got the tank driver's attention and got the tank stopped about 3 or 4 feet from Hayden. The German shell (88mm I assume) had killed the tank leader who stands up in the tank. I imagine when he fell down (headless) to where the tank driver was sitting, it spooked him and he was going to move.

After Strong got the tank stopped, he came back to where Poncho and I were sitting in the ditch. Strong asked me if I was hit? I told him I was hit in the leg. I said to Strong that it looked like Hayden was hit pretty bad. He said it looked like his right elbow was severed and there was a big hole in his right side. I believe the gun being across his body saved his life. I also believe if it hadn't been for Hayden being in front, I would have been killed and possibly Poncho. Poncho was a little Mexican boy.

There wasn't a medic around and we knew we had to get Hayden to a hospital. Someone said to us that there were medics in a house down over the hill. I told Strong to cut a couple of poles. We slipped our two jackets over the poles and made an improvised stretcher. Poncho asked me what he should do, catch up to the troops or what? I told him to stay with us after considering his nervous condition.

Another G.I. helped Strong carry Hayden on the improvised stretcher. As we started down the hill, artillery shells started falling all around us. Poncho would go a little ways and hit the ground. He told me, "Corporal, you had better get down." I said the hell with them, they couldn't hit me again. I remembered later we had been told that after you were hit you din't think you could be hit again.

About half way down to the house, my let got stiff as a board. But I kept going until we got to the house.

I gave my pistols and sub-machine gun to Strong. The pistols to keep for me until or if I got back to the outfit for I would pick them up in Decater, Il after the war and the sub-machine gun back to Cooper (the half-track driver). I was told later when they handed the sub-machine gun to Cooper, he asked where I was. When they told him I had been hit, he took about 3 steps back from the half-track and slammed the sub-machine gun up against the side of the half-track. Cooper was very superstitious and he thought his gun had jinxed me.

I had a back pack that had a camera, medals that Hitler had given to women for having boys for the Super Race and a number of little keepsakes. Strong turned these in to the Supply Sgt. for keeping.

We waited there for what seemed like an etermity. Hayden was lying on the improvised stretcher on the floor. After a while, I got tired of waiting because Hayden was in terrible pain.. I told them to get the jeep and we would go back to the aid station where we could get some help.

We took off with the stretcher with Hayden laying across the jeep with me holding him on. After a hair raising ride, we got back to the aid station. There they gave Hayden and me first aid. After a while, they loaded Hayden, me and another guy that has flipped his lid, on an ambulance. It seemed like we traveled all night. In fact, I heard the driver tell them at the tent hospital when we arrived that he had lost his way and got in the German line!

As soon as we were situated, they took Hayden and me to the operating tent. They x-rayed my leg from the top and the side. The shrapnel was laying against the bone from the top view and the shrapnel was laying in line with the bone from the side view. This placed the shrapnel in the deepest part of my thigh.