By Bill CATE
After completing the
basic enlisted finance course at Fort Ben in September 1946, I headed for
Germany. We sailed from Pier 13,
Staten Island, on September 13th for a voyage of 13 days but - other
than sea sickness - no bad luck was encountered. Our tub./ship was the 'MIT
Victory'' - a converted Victory ship of the sort Henry Kaiser built in record
numbers, in record time...but they didn't set any records for speed or comfort!
As I had volunteered to be the ship's librarian (a ploy I had learned from an
old hand), I was exempt from all other shipboard details, especially KP! I'm
sure my stomach would have agonized even more in the kitchen area with all its
smells and such.
A VERY choppy ride
across the North Atlantic convinced me I was lucky the Navy turned me down for
enlistment. At one rough point I was standing/hanging at the rail getting rid of
my earlier chow when a sailor from the Navy gun crew slapped me on the back
saying, "What's the matter, dogface...weak stomach?" Between
gags I was able to respond, "Weak, HELL! I'm throwing it as far as anyone
else!"
From Bremerhaven we rode
the train down to Marburg, Germany - home of the 3rd Repple-depple (Replacement
Depot). I say "we" because I'd buddyed-up with another Finance
enlistee along the way. This was PFC Logan "Cal"
CALHOUN from Barren County, Kentucky. I looked up to "Cal" as he'd
had a bit of combat experience in the 86th "Blackhawk" Division. His
division had been pulled back to the States from Europe for redeployment
against Japan but when that proved unnecessary here he was heading back to
Europe only in Finance this time instead of the infantry.
While waiting for our
assignment, we just killed time at Marburg. Chow was served from hundred-ration
pans into our mess kits. Plop! After eating we then went through a line to dump
our garbage and then several more large cans (what are usually known as
'garbage' cans) filled with water. On the lip of each can an immersion heater
was mounted. This was a sometimes-dangerous device to heat the water so it would
sterilize our mess gear for the next meal. I said sometimes-dangerous because
they were fueled with regular gasoline and had been known to explode. By the
second day I had to go on sick call. Either due to something I ate or the immersion-heater
hadn't gotten the water hot enough to sterilize my mess kit. I HAD THE TROTS!
Sick call was held in one large room. At one side was the doctor sitting on an ammo box using a footlocker for a desk. On the other side of the room were all of us "sickies" waiting our turn. NO PRIVACY at all. So you got to listen in while waiting your turn.
The next day we got our
assignments and Cal and I were destined for the 55th FDS at Nurnburg. Actually,
I had been told I was being assigned to the 45th FDS in Linz, Austria. Somebody
made a mistake somewhere and I've often wondered what life would have been like
if I'd gone that way.
We arrived in Norbert on
a very rainy and gloomy September day. All of the glass over the train platforms
had been broken out during the bombings so we got the full benefit of the
rain. We were met by a couple of guys from the 55th who had a 3/4 ton 'weapons
carrier' for our transportation. This meant we rode in the open back so we could
soak up some more rain! Nurnberg itself was also depressing as right across the
street from the 'bahnhof' everything was rubble for 15 blocks in every
direction. NO buildings left standing.
We picked our way around
craters and potholes until we were well out into the suburbs. An area called 'Ziegelstein"
("Bricks"). We passed a large school named the Hermann Goering
Schoolhouse (the name was changed later I'm sure). We finally arrived at 65
Eichendorfstrasse, a large estate which included an in-ground swimming
pool. Things were definitely looking up!
The 55th FDS was manned
with 3 officers and 17 EM. LTC Fred KEB was the Disbursing Officer. He
had been an NCO when WWII broke out and had been commissioned under the Thomason
(?) Act. The Deputy was a former schoolteacher named Cornelius I. THOMPSON.
He was an intelligent, educated, mature officer. It was easy to respect Lt
Thompson although he wasn't always easy to work for.... He kept expecting
everyone to do their best!
At the 55th FDS, in I was assigned to the Accounting section (which consisted of SFC MALLOY and me!). Army accounting in those days was simple single-entry bookkeeping. The main job was to keep the cashiers accounts straight, which was no small task. At this time the Army was still using "invasion currency" for money. These were German Marks printed by the Allies. As far as our cashiers were concerned they were equivalent to Monopoly money...because whenever they came up short all they had to do was sell a few cigarettes and they could get all they wanted. This was a time when barter was much preferred to cash. A first-class haircut (from the barber who came to us regularly at the house) was three cigarettes...as was a female companion for the night, or so I was told!
I mentioned my buddy, 'Cal'
CALHOUN. By the way, he stayed in for a career also and retired as a CWO-4;
now lives in southern Kentucky. Besides making the Atlantic crossing together
and arriving at the 55th together, one thing that helped bond us together was
our religion. We were both Catholics as was one other guy in the 55th: SSgt
Simon Peter BRZOZOWSKI. One of the problems with being Catholic
is you are aware of sin and the need to confess and repent whenever you stray.
As a Catholic may not receive Communion with a serious sin on his soul until
after going to confession, it can be an embarrassing situation when
you have your buddies watching over you like two big brothers and you suddenly
need to go to Confession. Talk about peer pressure! Or was it 'fear pressure'? Anyway
it was enough to keep us three away from the three-cigarette-for-a-night-girls.
Unfortunately, sex and booze were just too readily available and several of our
guys in the 55th threw their hopes for the future away by losing control of
their lives.
A case in point was a
former wartime Warrant Officer who had re-enlisted as a Master Sergeant. When
sober, he really knew Finance, but as time went on the sober periods were more
infrequent. He was busted to Private, made it back up to Staff Sergeant, then
busted again. One night (after the 55th FDS had been moved into a German Kaserne
in nearby Fuerth) I was on duty as Corporal of the Guard when the MP's brought
our boy in on very rubbery legs smelling like he had bathed in some cheap
distillery. I signed a receipt for him then tried to get him up three flights of
stairs to his room; no easy job considering he was hardly able to stand up. Finally
he was 'boarded out' of the Army as "unable to adjust to military
life"...after 18 years of military service!
We were a separate unit
under Third Army and pretty independent. Our supply sergeant was also our chief
scrounger...and he was very good at it. To help his efforts, we chipped in a few
bottles of our whiskey ration each month. We lived and ate well! We had German
women to clean the house, do our laundry, make our beds, and cook our meals.
They were paid a modest amount from our unit "slush fund" but the big benefit
was that we fed them a fairly hearty midday meal. Lots of bread and vegetables.
On one occasion our Supply Sergeant came up with a huge tub of lard which was a
cause of much joy among our German staff. They spread it thickly on bread and
ate it with great gusto...as fat had been nonexistent in their diet they had a
deep craving. Of course it turned our stomach to watch.
(Editor: I realize that this leaves you “up in the air” but I must cut off and make this a continued story. See you in June with the rest of the story.)