The United States is counted a literate land. Most people know how to read and write; they have been to school. In school they not only learned to read and write but were also exposed to the cosmopolitan light of history and geography. But a few years after one has left geography and history behind, usually all that is left of this instruction in the memory of the erstwhile pupil is a small residue of high points. Thus, it comes about that at the mention of a foreign land, one tends to remember only a few salient features concerning that country and to forget the more universal and less striking facts. So it was when we learned that we were in Holland.

Immediately we began looking for Dutch windmills, the Zuider Zee, flat table like land and miles of dikes and canals with here and there along the dike some stouthearted lad with his arm in the bank plugging up a threatening hole. _Each and every inhabitant was expected to be clopping along in wooden shoes, the boys wearing baggy pantaloons and the girls arrayed with stiffly starched "Bon Ami" bonnets.

Needless to say, such was not the case. We saw no dikes, no windmills. The people were dressed like our folks back home in the States (far more people wore wooden shoes in France than in Holland), and the particular part of Holland we were in was quite hilly.

In Valkenburg we pitched camp in an ultra-modern schoolhouse; one that had tile necessaries, and, using that (the schoolhouse) as our base of operations, set about winning friends (girls) and influencing people (to do our laundry). The Dutch, we soon learned, were friendly, highly intelligent, well educated and extremely industrious. Most of the youngsters could speak and understand English readily and the more advanced students were quite fluent. Furthermore, not only could they speak, read and write English, but French and German also. We thought the Dutch, on the average and despite the war, had better academic educations than had we.

The neatness and industriousness of the Dutch were an unending source of amazement to us. Immediately upon being freed of the years' old Nazi tyranny the Netherlanders set about cleaning up and reorganizing. Those houses undamaged by battle were strikingly beautiful and spruce appearing. _Of varied modern designs, they were constructed for the most part of deeply red brick set in thick, even layers of white cement and topped with steep red tile roofs; spacious windows were framed with warm shades of blending green and/or yellow as were the doors and eaves. Scrupulously clean, meticulous and painstaking, the women were out at all hours polishing windows, scrubbing floors, woodwork, steps and even the sidewalks. Carefully trimmed hedges encircled tidy lawns and flower gardens. To us it was a new world, a clean world.

But there were areas where the houses had been blasted and to look on their remains was depressing for some houses seem to have character, eccentricities, spirit. Perhaps it is an illusion created by the designer or its inhabitants. But there are houses that seem to have risen above either designer or inhabitant, to have taken on an individuality of their own, to emanate an air of peace and comfort, while there are others that appear shoddy, spineless, priggish.

While stationed at Valkenburg, most of the company activity centered on maintenance or preparation of what was to come; but there was some engineering work. A bridge was rebuilt. Roads were repaired with rubble that had once been homes and stores in Aachen, Germany. Everyone got a shower. Ed Callahan had his rifle stolen and sweated out a threatened statement of charges. Rubberlegs Fahey was seen by the C.O. while visiting the main drag of Valkenburg at the wrong time and was busted. Bobombs sputtered overhead at irregular intervals, especially at night, so keeping life from becoming too boring, Church services were held in the attic of the schoolhouse. The men liked simple lessons quietly presented; they disliked and distrusted flowery oratory.

Near Valkenburg is a huge limestone hill containing some of the most extensive catacombs in the world. Constructed by a religious order centuries ago, the tunnels were arched and vaulted, the walls decorated with Biblical quotations in Latin and stained religious scenes in bas-relief, One large room was carved in the form of a chapel with pulpit, alter, lectern and a bowl for holy water chiseled into the walls.

Twisting, turning and at many levels, some of the rooms contained gigantic statues of prehistoric monsters sculptured out of the living limestone and painted to resemble the real thing. A visitor coming upon one of these images unexpectedly could easily suffer quite a shock. So it was that Rod Brafford, Ken Johnson and Bill Gall coming upon these figures suddenly, beat a hasty retreat to the schoolhouse where they secured arms and much ammunition, organized into a punitive expedition and invaded the catacombs again for a more "leisurely" inspection.

Shortly after our arrival in Valkenburg, Graydon Syester, the company draftsman, fell victim of an accident. He was hit in the side by a .45 caliber slug from an M3 that was discharged accidentally. Evacuated to a nearby hospital, Graydon finally was sent back to the States. Popular, always willing to lend a hand, Graydon was missed by the whole company.

On the nineteenth of February the company moved again.

If one looks at a map of Holland, he will notice in the lower right hand corner a slender appendix running north and south dropping down between Belgium and Germany for a ways. At the neck of the appendix is the Dutch city of Roermond. On February l9, 1945 this city was in the hands of the Nazi Army. But a few kilometers south was a dirty, little, banged up village by the name of Bracterbeek, and this was in the hands of Company C, 53rd Armored Engineer Battalion. We had moved up and relieved some of His Majesty's troops.

In our back yard the 405th Field Artillery had dug in and was giving the Jerries hell --and us nervous prostration. This was our first real combat experience, our first time under fire. To let us know that they were still up and about, the Hun would lob an occasional shell into the vicinity, loosening a little more plaster from the ceilings and rattling what windows that were left.

On February 26 CCR (Combat Command R) was given its first chance to come to grips with the enemy. It staged a diversionary attack in the direction of Roermond. Company C had a considerable share in the proceedings. The first men in action were Francis Fahey and William Stein who were attached to the 58th Infantry as Bangalore men. Under intense shell fire they carried out their jobs and more, aiding in the evacuation of several wounded from the field of battle.

Joe Starcevich, John Wilson and Blade Madalis set up a number of booby traps on another sector which were instrumental in the capture of four German soldiers.

Led by Lt. Symonds the second platoon moved up to the front en masse and was assigned the job of clearing a mine field and a roadblock and of bridging a tank trap along the road so that tanks could advance with the infantry whose immediate objective was Lynne. Locating the mine field was the first task and was given to the second squad. Mashio, Schmidt, Gore and Marshall with nine detectors and covered by Grigsby went forward. After advancing three hundred yards under small arms fire they located the mine field. The detectors were not needed since the mines were plainly visible. So while Marshall, Gore and Grigsby covered them, Vinc Mashio and Fred Schmidt ran down the road disregarding the possibility of booby traps lifting the mines and throwing them from the roadway. (Vinc and Fred were later awarded the Bronze Star for this action.)

After clearing the mines, the second squad was relieved by Tenpenny's third squad whose job was to lay down treadway over the tank trap and clear any mines on the edge of the crater. It was necessary also to clear away a roadblock so Ray Hartz directed the bulldozer piloted by Ray Daniels up to the crater while Walter Brown and Dick Harper looked for mines. While searching for mines, Walt Brown became the platoon's first casualty stepping on a Schu mine which literally blew off one of his legs.

After three hours an enemy artillery barrage lifted and Dudley Gerry, platoon sergeant, guided a treadway carrying tank up to the trap. Captain Rickard came up while the treadway was being lowered and was slightly injured when another Schu mine was detonated by the placing of the treadway on the ground. He (the Captain) suffering from shock was evacuated. Jap Friend and Hugh Reilly secured the treadway. Another roadblock was removed and the tanks began rolling in earnest. Lt. Hank "Big Chief" Womastek came up and took over command of the company while Rickard was convalescing. Joe Matza and Stan Hoffstein maintained constant contact with the rear elements from the forward positions by means of peep radios.

Lawrence Borgelt, Bill Donaldson, Ed Callahan and Joe Shuliga working with the infantry learned the fine art of breaking windows of houses with the tossed grenade and exchanging small arms fire with the enemy.

The third platoon was assigned the task of repairing a stretch of road running east of Montfort so tanks of the 80th Tank Battalion could advance in support of the infantry. The spot to be repaired was beyond the last infantry outpost and was well zeroed in. Hardly had they arrived before they were spotted and became the object of heavy mortar fire. Unable to work they spent their time reflecting over past misdeeds especially as the shells dropped nearer and nearer. Frank Markey and some of the boys experienced the dubious pleasure of having a dud land in their midst. Lt. Oliver finally arrived on the scene and ordered a hasty retreat. There was no use of throwing away lives on a hopeless cause.

The first platoon went into action on the morning of the twenty-seventh. Their mission was to clear a four mile stretch of road between the towns of Linne and St. Odilenbery. When they reached Linne it was raining. Furthermore, it was still dark. Dismounting from their vehicles they walked through Linne and began work on the road. Not till later did they learn that as yet Linne had not been entirely cleared of German soldiers. This stimulated cerebral activity for more than a few hours.

While trying to locate mines among the pieces of shrapnel, wire, tin cans and other metal objects that made the detectors go haywire; the 'Fightin First' saw a Sherman tank drive onto the road following the tracks that a German tank had previously made. But the foxy Germans had laid two Riegal mines in the tracks and the Sherman ran over one losing its track. The first platoon exposed the other mine much to the interest of the tank crew.

What with all the noise and activity, the Germans finally acknowledged the presence of the platoon by giving them a belated reception:

"To the casual observer, this would have indeed been a three ring circus. The road was just a mass of feet and legs flying in the general direction of the ditch at a speed far surpassing any movement heretofore recorded. And, at the head of the procession into the comforting bosom of Mother Earth was the unknown master of the jack-knife, the double flip, half-gainer and swan; that cloud of dust without wheels, that hall of fire for defilade, none other than the right honorable S/Sgt. Claude B. McMullen. Not only that, it was later revealed that CBM also had the knack of finding cellars in nothing flat, just a haze in the wind." *

For the next week the company rested except Ed Schaeffer and Ray McCormick who were with the 58th Infantry doing demolition work. They were with the advance troops on foot most of the time and were not at all loath to return to the Engineers.

* Taken from Jack Winters'  "After Combat Report"