8. DESTINATION - U.S.A.
All of us who were at Camp Chicago had counted the days to our departure from the European Continent and all of the memories it would hold for us during the remaining years of our lives. It was barely past the hour of sunrise, that we were found sitting in front of our pyramidal tents, all equipment in order, and duffel bags carefully packed. I remember one fellow in our tent who dropped his duffel bag on a concrete pathway, and as a result, cracked open a souvenir bottle of French perfume that was in the bottom of his bag. He was the sweetest smelling G.I. to ever return to the States.
I had received the good news that I would be aboard the "David C. Shanks" an American "Liberty Type" ship. It was larger than the R.M.S. Samaria that had taken me to Europe, and it was still quite new looking. Some of us fellows had discussed the trip back to the States, and a few of us who were prone to seasickness considered our options. I had received one tip from one of the ship's officers regarding seasickness; he said, "keep busy, and make sure you eat good."
With that advice, I volunteered for K.P. (Kitchen/Galley Patrol/Duty) for the entire trip. I had access to all of the food storage rooms, so I was very hungry for those things of which I had long been deprived while in Europe. For breakfast, I mostly ate ice cream, and for the hours in between the regular fare, I ate fresh bananas, oranges of the seedless variety and fresh, beautiful Washington State apples. As I recall, I remember having only one pretty sick day coming home, and that was a day of a severe storm that created mountainous sized waves. I now forget how many days it took us to come home, but the trip was much shorter than going over to the E.T.O. We now had clear sailing with no fear of enemy submarines, etc., so there was no need to follow a zigzag pattern of travel.
Word spread about the ship that we were about to see our first glimpse of good old American soil, and it was a scramble to get a select spot topside. The ship's captain made certain we would enter New York Harbor via the Statue of Liberty, then up the Hudson to Camp Shanks, by coincidence, the same name as our ship. Cheers went up as the Statue of Liberty started to come into view, and it is impossible for me to amply describe the feeling that came over me as I observed her welcoming countenance. You could almost visualize her lips moving as she seemed to form the words 'WELCOME HOME VICTORIOUS ONES' and, for a split second, my thoughts suddenly went back to those of my buddies who would not make the return trip, and would not share this most welcoming sight; then, the consoling thought made its impression - I thought of the most magnificent welcome they would have already received as they entered their eternal rest on the battlefield.
I don't remember very much about our very brief stopover at Camp Shanks, except that we were to be fed a full course, super steak dinner. It was a meal that was absolutely the best, they even asked me how I wanted the steak cooked, and you know darned well that I never had any army mess sergeant ask me that question! At this camp, we were processed according to where we lived, because our next stop would be the camp from which we would receive our army discharge, then be put aboard a bus that would take us to our hometown. So, almost the very next day, I was on the short trip to Fort Monmouth, N.J.
A train took me to Fort Monmouth, and it would only be an overnight stop. We saw a special firm that showed President Truman thanking us for a job well done, etc. Oh yes, we were given the opportunity to reenlist in the regular army, but for some reason, I declined the offer. We were given advice on many matters that concerned or re-entering civilian life and the benefits we would receive as veterans, etc. Then finally, we were given our "Honorary Discharges". It was DECEMBER 7, 1945!!
I had not called my family, because I wanted my arrival to be a surprise. It was!
The bus I had taken from Ft. Monmouth was heading for Philadelphia, and my hometown was just a stop en-route in New Jersey. I had been given a new overcoat, and my duffel bag was well packed and also quite heavy. I had about a half-mile walk to my home, and while shouldering my duffel bag this distance was difficult, I certainly did not mind. I was full of immense anticipation in seeing my wife again, and it had been over a year since I saw the twins, my daughter and son who were now past the age of two years. I still remember walking in the front door of the house and seeing the surprised expression on my Eleanor's face as she came running in from the kitchen. Yes, it was a long embrace of welcome, and at its conclusion, I then was introduced to my children who really only knew me from my pictures.
As I mentioned earlier in the account, I was sworn into the army when the children were but five days old, so they saw very little of me during my first year in the army, and they saw nothing of me during the second year. I found myself in a difficult position as a parent who loved his children dearly, but they found me to be a total stranger who was now about to invade their family triangle. As I recall, it was three months before I could take either one outside of the house by myself. I now realized I had paid a much larger price in separating myself from my young family, but it did not minimize my pride in having served. I figured they would one day realize what I had done for them on the Field of Battle so that they could have the assurance of a better life. In their infancy, they too, paid a big price.
At 72 years of age (5-16-18), I am still the Company A Bugler. Since the end of WWII, I have kept in touch with many of my buddies of Company A. I still send newsletters twice a year to over 60 men on my active mailing list who all served with me in Co. A. After the war, I returned to my job with the Philadelphia Transportation Company; later it became S.E.P.T.A. /or Southeastern Pennsylvania Transportation Authority. I retired from SEPA in the year 1981 after 40 years of service. This year (1990), my wife and I will celebrate our 50th anniversary. I suppose I might add that no other children were born after the twins.
At my death, I have requested my burial be at the military cemetery at "New Jersey Memorial Veteran's Cemetery", Arneytown, N.J. (just east of Fort Dix)
Respectfully submitted:
T/5 William F. Bopp, 33806028
Company A (Bugler)
7th Armored Infantry Battalion
Eighth Armored Division
"The Thundering Herd"
Maj. Gen. John Matthew Devine, C.O.
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