On April 19 we received orders to move to the Harz Mountains: the setting for Goethe's Faust; supposedly the last rampart of pagan gods; reputedly full of werewolves (a terrifying bit of propaganda); and rumored to be the setting for a last ditch stand by fanatical Nazis and SS troopers. It was our mission to clean them (not the gods) out, occupy and govern.

After spending a day hunting eggs in Sargstedt, we found ourselves in the mountains with two blown bridges in our path. After helping CCR across the two had places, we settled down for a night of looting in what had been a Nazi resort hotel.

The next day we continued on our journey arriving in the typical little German village of Berke. Two days later we moved to Dorste, a few kilometers distant from Berke and the latter's exact counterpart.

We found that the villages of Germany and. for that matter, all of central Europe were remarkably similar. From the distance one saw a tall, slender church steeple surrounded by a small cluster of red tiled, whitewashed, buildings. Upon a nearer view one found than each building was a combination residence for humans and a barn housing the two or three cows, the four or five pigs or goats and the flocks of chickens and ubiquitous white geese. Though most of the houses were supplied with running water and electricity, hardly ever did we come across a home that had "necessaries" inside. The outhouse was usually located out by the compost heap.

Not only were there no scattered farm houses but the land was cultivated, in the feudal fashion, by hand with scythe and hoe. The land had been divided and subdivided by inheritance and sale through the centuries until it was broken up into narrow strips. A farmer might own a strip of land twenty feet wide on the north side of town and another thirty feet wide on the south side. All farming was done on an intensive scale with every inch of arable soil including even the drainage ditches under cultivation. Even along the shoulders of the lesser highways, fruit trees grew in neat orderly rows. Near each hamlet was a forest which furnished fuel for cooking and for heat through the long European winters. These forests were meticulously groomed with just the right number of trees cut down each year and the correct number of new ones planted in their stead.

The European woman was the beast of burden, the slave, the household drudge, the farm hand and the helpmeet of man. Those in central Europe managed to keep themselves and their homes clean at all times in addition to their other duties. The double standard was the accepted thing. Women cooked, sewed, tended the stock, planted and harvested the crops, had babies, loved chocolate and cigarettes and were crazy about dancing. The men, what few were left, followed us around picking up cigarette butts.

The company set up a military occupational government with Lt. O'Rourke acting burgomaster, and the rest of us as a police force of an area containing five towns. These towns and the surrounding forests were thoroughly screened and a regular patrol system organized. A large number of Nazis and SS were captured and removed for trial.

Dan Whitney, Ed Tedesco, Al Isaksen and some of the rest of the gang were assigned to rebuild the bridges that we had found destroyed on our way to this part of the world. The air compressor escorted by that inimitable pair, Virgie Denny and Ernie Ulrich, accompanied them on the job. Near the scene of operations and on a side road was a clear spring where the boys were wont to fill the depleted radiator of the compressor at the end of the day. Someone had observed this act and some time among the hours of the night of the fourth of May had planted and camouflaged three Teller mines in such a pattern that a vehicle turning into the narrow road would not fail to hit one of them. Fate was with Ernie and Virgie as they turned into the road for only by an inch did they miss the mines with their front wheels and when the rear wheels set off one of the mines, there was enough of the truck body between the men and the explosion to absorb the shrapnel. The pair came out unscathed except for minor scratches and a had shaking up.

Governing a territory comprising five towns turned out to be a much greater problem than at first thought. Most believed that once the Nazi and SS elements were disposed of, governing would be an easy matter. Each town had a burgomaster comparable somewhat to our city mayors but possessed of much greater authority. These burgomasters in our district were responsible to Lt. O'Rourke; each one posed a host of problems. Two were still secretly loyal to the Nazi regime and caused considerable trouble before they were found out. The others seemed to be either inefficient or to lack the confidence of their villagers. Each German man, woman and child, appeared to have some peculiar problem which it was "imperative" to discuss with the Americanishe Kommandant. Sgt. Vinc "Beak" Mashio who acted as interpreter and liaison between the burgomasters and Lt. O'Rourke, and who actually wielded considerable legislative, executive and judicial powers, found himself busier than a Russian spy. He finally expressed the opinion that he was much happier when his only worries were 88s and mortars.

All the DPs (displaced persons), and there were a lot of them, had to be gathered in, interviewed, fed and taken care of. This added more anguish to the authorities for some of the DP's were angry at the Germans and promptly started beating up burgomasters and looting whole towns liberated by the Americans. Others had not been treated badly at all and wanted to stay and make their homes in Germany. Still others, for instance Polish and Russian girls, a lot of whom had fallen in love with captive French poilus, did not want to return to their native lands, but insisted on going off to other foreign countries, This became a tremendous problem and caused much heartache, the solving and alleviating of which was worthy of all of Solomon's wisdom. It was at Dorste that the company secured the services of two Russians and one Pole to act as KPS. All went well except that the Russians insisted on keeping a motorbike, and the C.O. insisted that they should not. Soon two Poles took the Russians places in the kitchen. This use of DPS as KPS was liked by all sides since it was a welcome relief from what we considered obnoxious drudgery, and the DP's were completely happy in the assurance of three squares a day, warm clothes and a roof over head.

Referring back to the motorbikes "requisitioned" from the Germans, an order came down that no EM were to ride or possess motorbikes or civilian cars; and if possessing one, to promptly return it to its owner. Denny, Daniels, Scheidt, Oral White, Hank Pacyna, Ken Johnson, Chuck Howe, Decaro, and Ray Campbell all either owned motorbikes or had interests in them. Most of these machines had come from hundreds of miles away, Rather than relinquish theirs, Denny and Daniels did a circus act demolishing their machines. They both walked away from the scene of the accident unassisted and with huge grins on their faces.

A and B rations were still hard to get at this time. War materials had a priority and the supply lines were still extremely long and attenuated. The cooks were under considerable pressure from the men to serve palatable food in large enough quantities. Then without warning our cooks received a long list of food items that the battalion wanted our kitchen to furnish for a banquet dance to be held by and for the commissioned officers of the battalion and a group of American Red Cross girls and Army nurses (real live American girls). The food list was signed by that brilliant leader of men, Lt. Cnudson. The officers had a wonderful time what with all the food in the area, all the regular liquor rations, EM servants and American girls. Our company had bread, canned butter and coffee for dinner. Our company historian was temporarily "busted" for being so disrespectful as to write of this situation and others somewhat similar.

Up until April the EM had been averaging about a shower a month, but during all the excitement of moving about, this habit or quaint custom had almost been relegated to limbo. But in Dorste, John Coakley, Tom LeFleur and J. O. Campbell rigged up a four place shower in the basement at the local "schule. One does not really learn to appreciate the sensuous pleasure of generous quantities of hot water until he has been forced to let six weeks coat him with their odorous layers of grime and sweat. All men drawing company punishment thenceforth were put to work chopping wood for the showers' furnace.

Finally, the European catastrophe crashed to a halt. The enemy forces capitulated. There was very little exultation among the men. lt was too anti-climatic. We all had been certain of the result, only the date had been indefinite. Moreover, with the formal cessation of hostilities, the war in the Pacific took on a tremendous and new significance. The CBI jitters assumed epidemic proportions. Definite news was received that we were moving somewhere. Only one man in the company seemed to be eager to go to the South Pacific. That was Lt. Oliver.

We were moving all right, but only a few kilometers to the small "dorf" of Gillersheim. One morning along in early May, we kissed the Dorste frauleins goodbye and set out for Gillersheim. Upon arrival we expropriated some of the better dwellings, and settled down to occupation. No one was certain whether we were permanent occupational forces or just waiting for a free trip to the Qrient. We were just so many statistics that might be used at any time as some brass hat might see fit. Of such is war.

It was at Gillersheim that Emerson Perry, Arthur Myers, Sam Pezzino and Murel Harpel joined the company. Some of these boys had seen a lot of action in other outfits. Leonard Lewinson left us for some brainier "type" of work as did Swede Bjorkman.

Lt. Roger Sheridan, formerly of B Company, replaced Lt. Oliver as leader of them third platoon. Oliver transferred to battalion H.Q., where he was assigned as a reconnaissance officer. Lt. John Atkins, former H.Q. recon officer came to our company the same date and became h.q. platoon leader filling up our officer quota, depleted by battle and other trivia.

Schmidt, Markey and McGoldrick with the aid of the local citizenry established an ideal rec hall with bar, stage, dance floor (what! in Germany?) and easy chairs. With the aid of the distillery and winery in a nearby town, liquid refreshments were never wanting. Upon one memorable night the company consumed three hundred bottles of good champagne, sixty liters of potent wine and two kegs of beer. What lovely, lovely heads were had the following morning!

A group of five American entertainers, the first we had seen overseas, gave us a show. There was a shapely girl contortionist that...

The point system was put into effect while we were in Gillersheim and Norman Labus paid us a rare but welcome visit, gave us all the latest "hot-poop" from division H.Q., and told us how many points we had and why.

Truman, from Independence, Mo., Gore finally was persuaded to shed his winter underwear. Of course, he challenges the validity of this bit of information vehemently. Tut! Tut!

And then there was the controversial issue of the fraternization policy. Once upon a time, no one seems to know exactly when or where, some important people who go in for curious things drew up a document which shall be known in history as the non-fraternization act. The ruling, as originally designed, was a wartime security measure to keep soldiers from saying anything to Germans which the Germans might use for military purposes. It was designed also to demonstrate to the Germans that the Americans came as conquerors, not as comrades. The Allies wanted the Germans to know that we considered them responsible for the war and that we would have nothing to do with them until they acknowledged their guilt and proved by performance that they could behave like decent human beings. But the framers of the document overlooked something that was kind of important: Gls like girls. As a result, the non-fraternization act was a noble experiment with a fundamental flaw. It would not work. Born by decree it died by degree. It was a real $65 question. If aGIl were caught even so much as talking to a German, any German, man, woman or child, he was to be fined $65.

[The original non-fraternization order stated: "non-fraternization is the avoidance of mingling with Germans upon terms of friendliness, familiarity or intimacy whether individually or in groups, in official or unofficial dealings. However, non-fraternization does not demand rough, undignified or aggressive conduct, nor the insolent overbearance which has characterized the Nazi leadership.)

"The following must be prohibited: Visiting German homes, drinking with Germans, shaking hands with them, playing games or sports with them, giving or accepting gifts, attending German dances or other social events, accompanying Germans on the streets, in theaters, taverns, hotels or elsewhere (except on official business), discussion and arguments with Germans, especially on politics or the future of Germany."

Almost all people, including almost all GI's, seemed to agree that the principles and objectives of the non-fraternization decree were commendable. The difference arose over the best ways to obtain these aims.

Non-fraternization did not result in non-fraternization, but it stirred up a charming alley fight. Wives took their pens in hand and gnawed soldier-husbands in the ETO right down to the shimmering bone, saying, in effect: "You stay away from those German babes or I'll beat that silly tin hat of yours until it fits like a collar button." Husbands, many of whom could not have caught a German girl, or any other girl, with a bear trap baited with a maple nut sundae were properly flattered.

Once the war was over, the GIs felt they had a right to talk to Germans if they wanted. The ban on political discussions with Germans roiled them further. They resented the implication that they were gullible bumpkins who could be tricked by the first shrewd German who happened along. After all, the GIs had a strong argument in any discussion of the merits of democracy and fascism. Among other things, the GI's could ask who won the war.

Another thing, the GIs had been away from home a long time. They had fought and marched and crawled and slept in the rain and taken a lot of punishment and a lot of chicken. There were thousands of them who wanted to take out German girls. They had not taken out a girl in a long time.

The airplane may be replaced by the rocket bomb, and beefsteak may be replaced by vitamin capsules, but the traipsing around by boys after girls seems here to stay. This was a remarkable attempt to legislate it out of existence. The German girls wore thin tight dresses and they had a pleasant technique of walking down the streets so that the sun would hit them just right. Maybe a lot of German material during the war went into parachutes; anyway, German girls did not seem to have petticoats. At the beaches, they wore swimming suits about the size of a musette bag, without the straps. They looked healthy. They locked good. The GI's looked good, too.

The girls winked at the GI's and smiled at them. Sometimes they would tap their backsides and say "verboten." All this, understandably, did nothing to lower the GI's temperature, and it was a hot summer anyway. Non-fraternization was violated so much that people compared it to prohibition. *

"Doctors" Olson and Murphy built up a thriving practice. Not with soldiers so much, for basic training had not begun again as yet. But in most all small German villages there was but a single nurse. Instructed to aid these nurses, our medics soon had a fairly large clientele obliging them to set up a regular schedule of morning and afternoon calls. Coincidence that it was, most of these patients were frauleins, though, of course, this made not a whit of difference in the carrying out of the Hippocratic oath. However, there were certain malicious spirits in the company that would liked to have seen the pair faced with a certain type of emergency which falls in the category of obstetrics.

* Much of this plagiarized from Yank Magazine.

A great deal of hunting and fishing were indulged in during this period. A lot of deer and rabbits were brought in. Nearly everyone had access to a machine gun-- the game never had a chance.

Sgt. Fred Cohen received his commission in a simple ceremony in the company area. Most everyone was glad to see Cohen get the commission for he had demonstrated on the battlefield and in garrison that he was a leader of men and a believer in them as well.

Passes and furloughs became abundant to Heerlin, Paris and the Riviera and a little later to the United Kingdom and Switzerland. Who is there among those that have been in Paris that can forget the excited crowds of people, the high pompadours of rainbow hued hair piled on the ladies' heads; the greeting of 'Hi Bee·bee" from the gay girls in Pigalle; the hot, stuffy subways; the high prices; the round tin relief stations for men set prominently on the public sidewalks every fifty yards in the heart of the city; the beaucoup tours to the beaucoup monuments; the omnipresent bidet in every hotel room; and the ever present palm waiting for a tip.

And who is there among you that have been in Brussels that cannot recall the friendly people; the goodlooking easy to become acquainted with easily insulted girls; the many drinking establishments and the much imbibing of strong drink; the black market in cigarettes and tobacco; the steaks and French fries; and the surprising quantity of goods for sale?

And who is he that has been to Switzerland that dares forget the quiet grandeur of the rugged Alps; the mirrored lakes surrounded by modern hotels and rustic pastoral scenes; the variety of Swiss watches for sale; the wonderful skiing; the luxury of the people as compared to the rest of the continent; the exciting train rides and the long and many tunnels; the efficient maid service and the constant tipping?

And what GI that has loafed in Riviera can ever forget the thrill as the C-47 roared in for a landing; the almost spiritual relief of stepping out into a world where saluting was verboten; where no one wore a cap or tie and the T-shirt and rolled pants was the popular mode of dress; and the beach where pretty French girls wore thin strips of something or other that made the latest beach fashions of Hollywood seem like mid-Victorian dress?

And who is so mean as to forget the thrill that comes from once more hearing the sound of English after long months of continental gibberish; or sailing on Loch Lomond; or strolling in the starlight with a wee bonnie lass near the monument of Sir Walter Scott; or roaming the heather; or jitterbugging at the USO dance with a girl who broadened her A's and played havoc with the word, what; or dodging traffic on the wrong side of the street; or drinking Black and Tans? Of such was passes and furloughs.

While at Gillersheim we had the privilege of making various sightseeing tours. There were trips to famous large cities and excursions through the mountains. And there was the pilgrimage to BUCHENWALD.

It is a tendency for "civilians" or people not coming into contact with the Germans to dehumanize them. However, the contrary is quite evident to those that have conquered the Germans. If nothing else their cruelty in the concentration camps proves that they are human. No beast or animal would perpetrate such atrocities. A partial answer to the question of why Dachau, Buchenwald, Belsen and the others might be in the German propensity to unthinking and implicit obedience.

In a picturesque valley of central Germany there lies a famous city. It is not so large as to be of especial renown, nor is it architecturally unique. It has the usual stately church of comparable cities in Germany; there are no more nor fewer religious shrines, roadside crosses supporting figurines of the crucified Christ. Seen from the tops of the nearby mountains, the red tile roofs of the city contrast magnificently with the rich green finery of the surrounding fields and forests. But there are dozens of such scenes all over this part of Germany. Perhaps it is not famous. But the city of Weimar is known, well known, the world over. High on the top of a lovely mountain in Weimar's backyard nestled among the slender pines are the remnants of a huge ammunition factory. Near the factory is a camp where the workers were kept --were kept until they died. Over the entrance gate of the camp a great sign spelled out in black letters the word, BUCHENWALD, beneath which this legend in German appeared, "Right or wrong, My Country."

The SS had the job of running the camp and very efficient they were. There was little food wasted and the expenses of shelter, heat, clothing, medical care and entertainment were kept at a minimum -- yes, at the very minimum.

It was discovered here that two ounces of moldy black bread, a pint of watery potato soup and a little ersatz coffee kept a strong man alive and working for eighteen hours a day for some time. When he became ill or too run-down to work, well, there was an unlimited supply of reserves. With this supply of reserves at hand it was foolish to waste precious medical supplies, thus, the camp did very nicely without serum, disinfectant -- medicine of any kind. Of course, a few doctors among the inmates were allowed to practice but without equipment or medicine. Clothing consisted of vertically black and white striped blouse, pants, skull cap and a pair of wooden shoes. Hardly anyone ever wore his out --he did not live long enough.

Discipline is spoken of as one of the most important things in the Army. Well, Buchenwald inmates should have made ideal recruits, for discipline was adhered to -- strictly enforced. Each morning at four, reveille was held at a huge assembly point and all were present except those that had died of starvation or disease during the night or were so near death that they could not drag themselves to the area. Details picked these dead and dying up and transported them on wagons to a modern appearing building, the crematorium. There they were stripped naked and stacked like so much cordwood. Under the supervision of the SS, fellow inmates then cremated the bodies with clear bright flames. High on one wall above the ovens hung a plaque, black with a symbolic flame painted on it and a quotation from some German poet: "Let not disgusting worms consume my body...give me the clean bright flame," etc. The ashes of German political prisoners were sold to the families and relatives for five marks. Of course, the SS made sure that these were never the right ashes. The capacity of the crematorium was only 180 daily. There were larger elsewhere.

In a specially designed room beneath the crematorium was a sort of recreation hall for the SS. Here those slaves that had accidentally or purposely fractured some rule of discipline were brought and hung up on hooks by and with their hands tied behind them. The SS had great sport working on these men as could be seen by the deep scratches made in the plaster wall by the fingers of the victims. Several fragile potted plants hung over the entrance of this building, but the odor seemed to have disagreed with them; they seemed quite puny.

Opposite the front door was a little courtyard where the gallows stood, a stout wooden frame with several hooks and a stool on which men stood before an SS kick deprived them of their last grip on life.

It always seemed as though more men came to work than could be handled. So it was thought best to dispose of those under sixteen and over sixty. This was done in the main by a lethal serum. There was a room about eight feet square where these shots were administered. The records showed that in one year 2800 had walked into the room and had been carried out.

There was an experimental hall, too, devoted to the "cause of science." Here various organs were removed from living men and the results carefully noted. The wife of the commandant was interested in this phase of the work. She chose men from time to time and had them skinned, and then she cured the skins using them for lampshades; book bindings, etc.

The barracks and living quarters were unique in that more people slept in each building of its size than anywhere else in the world. There was one single story barracks about fifty feet long and twenty wide in which some 1,850 children resided for a while (before children were banned). But the situation was relieved somewhat when typhus broke out. Usually six men slept in a shelf built against the wall about four feet wide, by six feet deep and eighteen inches high.

When the Americans captured the concentration camp, there were some 21,000 prisoners, but the records showed that 51,000 at least had been brought there. There was no record of anyone leaving. Jews, Russians, Poles and German political prisoners made up the bulk of the inhabitants -- people who happened to have the wrong ideas about things.