Chapter 5 - Overseas

On November 6 we left Camp Kilmer and loaded onto ferries to be transferred across the Hudson River to the docks of New York. We disembarked into a large shed next to an English liner, HMS Samaria, of about 20,000 tons displacement. As our names were called we carried our barracks bag and personnel weapon up the gangway into the ship where we were directed down passageways to our berths. The enlisted men of the second platoon were berthed in the forward cargo hold of the ship that had been divided into decks and outfitted with pipe berths, which were stacked four high. The spacing between berths was just sufficient enough to allow you to slip sideways into the berth on your back. If you wanted to turn over you had to slide out of the berth and slide back in on your stomach. We were told to hang our barracks bag at the foot or head of the stack of berths and to slide our weapons onto the berth. Each berth had a life jacket for its occupant. Each life jacket had a light attached to it so that it could be located in the sea at night. The machine gun squad, except for our track driver Ray Pastewka, was assigned to the garbage detail and told to report to the ship's company for instructions. Ray was assigned to kitchen detail.

The first task we were given was to take the last trash to the dock because it could not be disposed of at sea except at night for fear of leaving a trail, which could be tracked by submarines. As a result of this duty I was the last soldier to board the ship before we sailed. While on dock a Negroes service unit was loading onto a ship just to the stern of my transport. I have never seen such a dejected group. They were dragging their barracks bags instead of carrying them and most were cursing their fate in extremely foul language. It was almost comical to me and I wondered what their officers thought of their behavior as I carried my empty trashcan up the gangplank. On the seventh of November we sailed for England.

One of the benefits of being on a ship's working party was that we were served ship's food, which was delivered to our working station at each meal. A disadvantage was that as we put to sea, 80% of the GIs got seasick. . The Limey in charge of the kitchen detail, because he had been warned of rough seas, gave each member of the kitchen detail a white bread sandwich of well-salted onion slices. Ray said it worked fine. We in the garbage detail would take the 25-gallon cans of vomit to the aft rail at night and empty them overboard. I guess the theory was that the vomit would disperse during the night. Of the 12 men in the squad only four of us did not succumb to Mal de Mer. The three in the garbage detail were able to eat the food for all of the squad and; therefore, ate extremely well during the voyage. If one of our ailing squad mates appeared to be on the mend we would comment on how greasy the food was and smack our lips. If this didn't have the desired effect we would haul in a full can of vomit for temporary storage in the workspace. I don't think my buddies appreciated our efforts. This only lasted about five days for most of the squad was looking gaunt for lack of food, and we decided to be more considerate of our shipmates. All eventually recovered and were in good shape by the end of the eleven-day voyage.

When we were about five days out I was below decks watching some officers playing poker. A major had a bottle of whiskey he was drinking from as he was playing, uncorking it for each swig and then replacing the cork. Suddenly we heard a number of depth charge explosions that rang through the hull with considerable force. The major calmly put the bottle to his lips, cork and all, and tried to drink. He didn't blink an eye when he couldn't get any whiskey through the cork, and calmly replaced the bottle at his side. I almost burst out laughing but stifled my mirth for fear of offending the major. I don't know if he realized what had happened or not, he just kept looking at his cards.

When I was free from my work I would either go down to the canteen and drink ginger beer while talking to some of the off duty crew or would go out on deck to catch some fresh air. The crew was a mixture of English and Irish and I found out that the some of the Irish didn't have much love for England and were quite happy that Ireland was neutral. At the time I, not having read much about the centuries old conflict between England and Ireland, couldn't understand their attitude. The individual crewmembers seemed to get along with each other despite their differences in political views.

On my frequent visits topside, I would watch the rest of the convoy heaving, rolling and pitching in the huge rolling waves of the overcast gray North Atlantic. Just off our starboard bow about 1000 yards away was a small corvette that was rolling 45 degrees to one side and 45 degrees to the other. Her decks in places were only a few feet wide and I better understood what my Father had said about his convoy duty in the first World War when he had gone days without warm food because the galley stoves couldn't be used. I never saw a single sailor come out on the little ship's wind and spray swept decks. I certainly didn't envy the life of the seamen in that pitching and rolling ship.

About 1000 yards to our starboard was a fully loaded tanker. This ship heaved very little, it just plowed on through, instead of over the waves. The waves would sweep over the ship from bow to stern, submerging it section by section. At times the bow of the ship would be completely under water with only the midship well and stern visible and then a moment later the stern would be completely submerged except for the top of the bridge and the funnel. I didn't see any seamen on this ship either during the whole voyage.

After eleven days we final arrived at Southampton and were greeted by a welcoming speech from a British Brigadier and music from a dockside British band. The music the band was playing had rather interesting lyrics. "Roll me over Yankee soldier, roll me over in the clover and do it again." I thought this a rather raucous but very friendly welcome. The Brigadier told that if we thought we had seen mud before we were in for a surprise for we were assigned to Tidworth Barracks on the Salisbury Plains of southern England. We soon found him right.

The next day, upon disembarking, we were loaded into six-by-six trucks and after several hours of driving arrived at a tent camp in a rolling country side that was all green with stands of trees on the surrounding hilltops. We jumped out of the trucks and, hauling our gear, were assigned to tents each with eight cots, a stove in the center, and floored with duckboards. These were to be our homes for six weeks. Within 50 yards there was a latrine and a shower facility. Our meals were prepared by the company cooks using their mobile kitchen and served in the company mess tent located centrally in the company area. This was the first time we had been billeted in tents since leaving Camp Polk and the first night the temperatures dropped to freezing. By morning all of the duckboards had been consumed in the stoves.

Several days later Big Al, Little Al and myself had headed for the nearest tree covered hilltop carrying the ax from the half-track that had arrived that morning along with Ray Pastewka. We chopped three trees about twenty feet tall, with diameters of about eight inches, trimmed the tops and limbs off and carried them back to camp. Little Al and I carried one tree and Big Al carried the other two. Considering Big Al's strength this seemed any equitable division of the labor at hand. When we got the trees back to camp I started to cut them to lengths for use in the stove. I used an ax most of my life but Big Al watched for about ten minutes, stood and asked for the ax. With about three swings he severed a two-foot length from the butt of one the trees. Picking up the log he had cut he asked if I wanted some kindling. He then walked over to a boulder and bashed the log into a shattered double handful of kindling. I had never really understood the strength of the man, and this was but the first of series of demonstrations I was to witness. Next day we were visited by a British Bobby who explained that each tree in England was cherished. He said he understood that we were visitors and didn't understand the English law and then asked us not to chop any more trees down. This surprised all three of us since we all came from heavily wooded areas of the country where nothing was thought of taking a tree if you really needed it for warmth. We apologized and promised to stop cutting down the trees.

We next tried putting a tank of motor oil outside the tent and piping the oil into the tent to drip on a hot rock and feed a small flame in the stove. This experiment almost killed us, because so much of the oil vaporized before it burned we almost suffocated the first night. Fortunately we were supplied with some coal by the second week. By this time there was several inches of snow on the ground. With the help of the coal and our acclimation we survived our introduction to English weather. Several days later a big pile of lumber was dumped at the head of the company street and a sign posted stating that the lumber was not to be used for tent flooring. Next morning the lumber pile was gone and all the burned tent flooring had been replaced.

We were soon hiking over the English countryside with our field packs and weapons. As assistant gunner in Al Drost's gun team it was my job to carry the machine gun except for the tripod. This part of the gun weighed about thirty pounds and with the rest of my gear I was carrying almost 80 pounds. After the three weeks trip from Camp Polk it was a struggle to keep up after a few miles. On the next march I removed the barrel, barrel extension, lock frame and bolt and just carried the receiver, back plate and barrel cooling cover. This saved half the weight. Fortunately the distances covered were slowly increased so that within a few weeks I was able to cover twenty-five miles in a day without collapsing.

After we had been in England for about a week I got a chance to go to Salisbury. About twelve of us climbed into a six-by-six and headed out from Tidworth on a pass. After an hour and a half drive we were in Salisbury where we were assigned rooms in an inn. I went out to look at the town with a buddy and soon passed a pub. We decided we would go inside and talk to the English locals and have a beer. We ordered a glass of beer and sat down to chat. I soon drank my glass down and became so sleepy that I could hardly keep my eyes open. I was forced to excuse myself and staggered back to my room where I immediately fell asleep. I slept through until late the next morning. I just had enough time to grab a bite to eat and jump on the truck back to camp. Either the beer was stronger than what I was used to or I was more tired than I realized. Except for the excellent rest I had got, which was the best I had had in nearly two months, the trip was a disappointment to me. I had seen only a small part of the city and talked only for a short while with the civilians. On the return to camp I did get a fleeting glimpse of Stonehenge as the truck passed within a quarter mile of the site. The skies were overcast and there was a mist along the ground but I could make out the huge stones as we passed.

I was out strolling across the hills one day when a tremendous roar filled my ears. I turned toward a line of trees several hundred yards away just in time to see an engine with a huge propeller with barely perceptible wing tips sticking out each side. The plane swept over me at an altitude less than two hundred feet and disappeared over a hill. I'd never seen such a big propeller and engine on such a little airplane. It was, as I later learned, either a Hawker Typhoon or Tempest.

During the last part of November we lost a peep in the mud at Tidworth. It sank so deeply into the mud that only the top of the windshield was visible. The vehicle recovery unit brought a big crane out and tried to lift it out but failed. I only saw the peep and the recovery operation while passing by in our half-track. I'm not sure whether they couldn't get a line onto a substantial part of the peep or, whether the crane didn't have enough lifting capacity on the soft ground to break the peep lose. When we left for France a month later the peep was still buried in the mud. I suppose they dug it out the next summer. We replaced that vehicle and rounded up a couple of spares by borrowing three peeps from a nearby American air base just before we left England. Unfortunately we lost all three peeps in accidents on the icy roads in France during the company's first week there.

At this time I saw my first tank recovery vehicle and it was huge. It was in Tidworth and it barely fit between the houses on the main street of town. Since it was empty I don't think it was doing any damage to the roads. I still hadn't seen my first tank even though I'd been in an Eighth Armored Division for two months by now.

I got the opportunity for a two-day visit to London, once at the end of November and once in the middle of December. A buddy and I were driven to the train station near Tidworth and placed on a train going to London with orders cut to indicate the time to return and where we were to stay. I was impressed how smoothly the train started, none of the typical jerks I had experienced on American trains. We arrived in what I believe was Waterloo Station and caught a cab to Knightsbridge where our rooms were. After getting our things arranged at our room we started walking back towards the center of London. An English businessman passing by in a cab offered us a lift, which we gladly accepted. On arriving near Piccadilly Circus we were off sight seeing. We went to Buckingham Palace, Trafalgar Square and on to a USO canteen where we stuffed ourselves with coffee and doughnuts. We then went to an English variety show during which they had an audience sing along. Our next stop was a USO dance. We both got a chance to talk and dance with several young ladies and two of them agreed to meet us later. These young ladies took us dancing at another dance hall and then showed us some more of the town. The next morning we went back into central London for more sightseeing. That evening we returned to Tidworth.

Our means of transportation while in London was the subway system or underground. I had never been in a subway system and was very impressed with London's. The trains were fast and smooth running. The instruction as to destination and train numbers were clearly explained on large signs which were color coded as were the passage ways and stairs to the various track levels and each station was clearly marked. The whole time we were in London we traveled for miles and never got confused or lost.

On our second trip to London during the week just before Christmas we went to a movie and to a dance at Covent Gardens. While in London I first heard of the German counter offensive in the Ardennes. The London newspapers had huge headlines proclaiming the German attack. The next afternoon we returned to camp.

The week following my first trip to London the company was told to modify the mine racks on the side of the half-tracks so as to accept English mines. The racks were to be moved out about two inches since the English mines were taller and smaller in diameter than American anti-tank mines. Most of the squads began cutting the racks loose with cutting torches but not the machine gun squad. We had Big Al. Al took the crowbar off the track, placed the end of the crowbar inside the top rail of the mine rack. He put his feet against the side of the track and straightened out, perpendicular to the half-track's side, horizontal to and five feet off the ground and gave a mighty heave. That end of the rack moved out the necessary two inches. The other end of the rack was assaulted in a similar manner. Our half-track was completely modified in about ten minutes, while others had yet to light up their torches and cut through the first piece of mine rack. The crowbar was bent about twelve inches by the time Big Al was finished with it. We had to turn it in to the supply Sargent and get a new one for the half-track.

The next week while in our tent we heard a commotion outside and rushed out to find a GI from B Company sitting on Cliff Tierney's chest and punching him. Big Al yelled at him to stop and demanded to know what was going on, pointing out that Cliff belonged to our squad. The GI from B Company said that Cliff had been in his company area causing trouble. Al said we would see that Cliff behaved himself in the future. The B Company GI said that wasn't good enough for him and took another swing at Cliff, who ducked. Al yelled at them to stop and the GI asked Al what he would do if he didn't. Al picked him up by his shirtfront holding him at arm length and about six inches of the ground and said, "I'll hit you". Al then released him and off he ran without a word, never to return.

During December of that year England had an unusually cold period. During the night the mud would freeze so solid that it took up to a half-hour to get a half-track started and broken loose. The mud had oozed up over the tracks and bogey wheels when the vehicle was parked during the afternoon of the day before when the temperature was just over freezing. I watched the whole start up process one morning. After the driver had broken the track lose from the mud by rocking it back and forth, I was astounded as the half-track drove off with the track still frozen into straight sections that revolved around the suspension system unbending. This caused the vehicle to rock violently back and forth as it lumped itself down the road. I couldn't imagine how the driver maintained control.

That Christmas some local orphans were invited to be our guests for the afternoon and have Christmas dinner with us. The youngster I showed around was about ten or eleven and had never had turkey before. His eyes very nearly popped out when he saw the size of the helpings we had. He never the less managed to eat all we put on his plate. He was probably sick when he got to the orphanage that night: however, he seemed happy when he left.

Shortly after Christmas we were told that we would be leaving for France almost immediately and to get our gear in order. There was a complete inspection in which all our personnel gear, personnel weapons and squad weapons were laid out and gone over carefully. The vehicles were also inspected. On the second of January we loaded on to six-by-six trucks. We had full field packs and personal weapons. Our barracks bags with the rest of our equipment were loaded into the half-tracks. The vehicles were driven separately to Southampton for loading aboard landing craft. We were taken to Southampton and loaded into a troop transport. The ship sailed for France the next night. I forget now where I was assigned a bunk, but I'm sure I had a place to sleep the two nights I was on board. The morning of January the fourth we arrived for off loading in the harbor of La Havre. The half-tracks along with their drivers were shipped by landing craft to La Havre.