DRG-based payment schedules?

You have a lovely wife, she must be very proud of you.

I looked up the 436th FA Battalion. 8" howitzers, towed by tractors. You were at Camp Gruber, OK when Japan surrendered.

When did you go overseas?

__________________
Best Regards,
JW

SLIP:

No I quit before DRG scheds came in. I'll have to work up the answers to why I quit -- I think I enumerated 4 or 5 big ones. Will make a post out of it -- If I don't then remind me.

The 436 started out with 105mm, then we went to 155mm, and finally 8" -- all at Gruber. But we weren't at Gruber when VJ-Day happened -- that's a story in itself. Will try to tell that one in chronological sequence with the other stories. (Makes for better story-telling .)

Hey, how did you look up that info on the 436? Gotta do that, so I can check on some of the guys in the outfit.

G'nite -- will write more this weekend.

Bill

__________________
True knowledge leads some from cocksure ignorance to thoughtful uncertainty.

Slip if we can't change the title, there is something we can do: Open a new thread with the correc title, move all the postings from this tread to the new one, then delete what's left of the first one.
As a result you should get a proper title with the good postings attached to it.

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Why spoil a good thread? This one is perfect! Bill, I find your posts extremely humourous and entertaining, do keep at it

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Spoil? Not. Za, read Bill's initial and urgent request to change the title. It is mispelled and could lead to confusion and wrong information. It should be 436. So Bill is looking for info about the 436th FA Battalion

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It is in a book, Order of Battle US Army World War II, by Shelby Stanton. It has the information I typed above, plus formation dates and locals and nothing more. I doubt it would be of help for you searching for buddies.

Skipper,that is a good idea. I have already PMed Otto, let's give him another day or so. I also asked him to change Mr. Bill's title section to reflect his veteran of the war status.

__________________
Best Regards,
JW

Good work Jeff, Let's give Otto the time to change the title or one of us can use my idea.
In the mean time if some of the rogues read this thread they know the right figure is 536.
let's hope people interested in this Battalion google with the correct words and this and get this thread with their search engine.

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G'evening all:

Haven't posted for a couple days 'cause I was digging thru 5 boxes of mementos of the past 80+ years. Came up with some material for future posts.

Here's a mini story:

Thru the late '30s I had become interested in ham radio. Met a few ham operators who lived in adjoining neighborhoods, Woodhaven and Glendale, Queens, LI, NYC. Both these neighborhoods were mainly Germans who had emigrated after WW1. These fellows were very helpful, taught me some Morse code, electronics, and wiring techniques. Then came Pearl Harbor -- and they all disappeared. Didn't find out what happened to them till svl years after the end of WW2.

Turns out they were German spies who were using their ham equipment to send msgs to German subs operating off the East Coast. They got caught and I assumed were executed as spies.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Another:

I took 3 years of German in high school, from 1939 to 1942. When I finished I still couldn't speak the language, but I got a good foundation in German grammer and sentence structure. Also developed an excellent accent. Why?

Well, the class was taught by Mrs. Bryant, and a nice Irish name she had. However, that was her husband's name. She was German, altho she spoke English with no accent whatsoever.

Now something interesting happened in her class during 1942. Occupying the entire front row of seats were all girls, who spoke perfect German. They came from those families in Woodhaven and Glendale, and were taking German in school because it was a "free ride" -- they didn't have to study anything -- just talked the language their folks used at home.

Then one day they were passing this giant book of photographs from desk to desk, including passing it to Mrs. Bryant, and then back again among them. I finally snuck a look at the cover and then a few pics inside. The title was, "Polish Atrocities Committed Against the German People in the 1930's." It was one of Hitler's excuses to invade Poland September 1st, 1939, starting WW2.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Another:

I remember when Hitler seceded the Saar Valley and the Rhineland in 1935 and 1936. Dad wrote to me from England, explaining the implication: that Hitler was planning to conquer Europe.

In 1938 Dad finished his medical studies and came back from England. He continued teaching me about politics, and what it all meant.

Then came September 1, 1939. Dad told me to sit down in front of the family radio and turned it on. What we heard was the news that Hitler had invaded Poland. It was the first time I saw a grown man cry, as I watched tears well up from my dad's eyes.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The next story is not a mini-story ... it's a big one. Will talk about it in my next post.

Bill

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True knowledge leads some from cocksure ignorance to thoughtful uncertainty.

Thanks Mr Bill.

Do you remember the names of the Germans?

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Best Regards,
JW

We lived in Richmond Hill, Queens, LI -- not the helter-skelter of Manhattan .. so we rarely heard a newsboy hawking the latest headlines.

But this Sunday was different. We heard this kid yelling out the news, "Read all about ... Japs attack Pearl Harbor!! ... War will be declared!!" It was December 1, 1941.

The next day, a special assembly was called at 11AM in school and the principal came up to the microphone and explained to us that FDR had declared war on Japan. It was a pretty somber event .. even we teenagers knocked off our usual banter and listened in silence.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Of course everything in all our lives changed. Victory gardens. Rationing stamps for gasoline (Dad was the only one in our neighborhood to get a decent ration, because he was a doctor.) Sugar, meat, a whole bunch of stuff became hard to get. We kids collected lead foil and kitchen grease and turned it in to the depots to help the war effort (to make bullets and gunpowder). Every house in NYC had to install "blackout shades" -- black shades on all windows, so that German bombers wouldn't have easy targets (The East Coast was never bombed, but there were plenty of U-Boats plying the waters off the coast.) We all started saving to buy $25 War Bonds.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Now comes some interesting considerations. Before the "the day in infamy" that FDR described to us --- America and Americans were best described as thorough-going ISOLATIONISTS. "Leave Europe fight it's own Wars." "We are Fortress America -- we've got the Atlantic to protect us on the East and the Pacific to protect us on the West." "Rumors about Hitler rounding up all the Jews and exterminating them? Just rumors."

Then there was the "America First Party," getting more popular all the time. Their platform? ... stay out of any war!. Matter of fact FDR's 3rd term election in 1940 was no where near the landslide he enjoyed in 1936 -- much negative public opinion regarding FDR's sending Lend-Lease military and materiel shipments to England and later to Russia.

But the "sneak attack" news changed everything. It carried us through WW2, even though there were many bleak periods as bad news came in from the Southwest Asian compaigns, and the African campaigns. FDR was our hero before he passed in '44.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Then the other shoe dropped. Several years later the stink arose surrounding Kimmel and Short, who it was claimed became the goats for what FDR knew, and set up on purpose -- that he had sucked Japan into attacking Pearl so he'd have an excuse to bring us into the war. The rumblings were that our military had broken the Jap code, and knew they were steaming towards Pearl, ready to bomb it from the air and torpedo it from the sea.

Americans have had differing opinions on that whole deal, over the years. What's my take on it, after all these years? ...... The following:

FDR, knew full well that the truth would someday out. That he then would be castigated as a cynic playing murderous geo-politics with American lives. Yet FDR also knew, that Hitler, Hirohito, and Mussolini were well on their way to take over the world. Had Hitler not foolishly stopped short at Dunkirk, he could have swept across the Channel and gained England. And without England as a staging area, Eisenhower could never have set up the Normandy invasion. The result would have been y'all would have been speaking German, and I and my family would have been sent to extermination camps. That makes, in my eyes, FDR as the bravest statesman of the 20th Century.

Now I know that this is strong opinion, and open to controversy. But I'll tell y'all, at age 82 I know longer am interested in arguing. Take it or leave it.

Bill

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True knowledge leads some from cocksure ignorance to thoughtful uncertainty.

No, SLIP, can't remember any of their names. (Hey, some days I can't remember my own !

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True knowledge leads some from cocksure ignorance to thoughtful uncertainty.

Goin' beddy bye y'all ... got some more posts and pics, probably tomorrow.

Bill

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True knowledge leads some from cocksure ignorance to thoughtful uncertainty.

Some more excellent stories. It seems like the Gemrans girls you went to school with were Bund supporters. That book you mentionned must be worth a fortune nowadays. I have one of these at Home it's volume 15 which deals about the 1935-1936 period . I wouldn't be surprised it was a book from the same collection. (A4 format , about 300 pages, written in Gothic and you could collect the illustrations and glue them inside to get a great picture book).

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In high school in the early '40s there were only 2 kids interested in (snow) skiing (there was no water skiing back then ): I and George Wozacek. George was a Jewish refugee from Austria. His family was wealthy back there (owned paper making plants, etc.), so they used to take ski vacations in the Alps back then.

Anyway, our big ambition was to volunteer for the 10th Mountain Division (ski troops) as soon as we reached out 18th birthday. Well, Geo was 6 mos older so he got in '43. I was so envious of him. By the time I was 18 they closed down volunteering for the 10th Mtn. Man was I disappointed.

So Geo first went to Ft. Bragg, NC, where he got his Basic FA on 105mm howitzers. Then he went to Camp Carson and then Camp Hale, CO (Pike's Peak) for his mountain training.

What a disappointment. He wrote back anguished letters describing how they never saw a pair of skis ... instead all he saw was the backside of army mules (while wiping up their doo-doo).

Finally his outfit went overseas and of course they ended up in Italy in the mountains there. That's when it got real bad, 'cause the Yanks only had 75mm howitzers, whereas the Germans had their very effective 88mm's. So they always out-ranged the Yanks. Lots of casualties.

Finally Geo took a MG bullet in his butt. Fortunately it went no further. So he was out of action, with a Purple Heart, but no lifelong disability.

Man, my envy of him turned into giant relief.

Ah, the Fickle Finger Of Fate.

Bill

__________________
True knowledge leads some from cocksure ignorance to thoughtful uncertainty.

Have y'all remained friends through the years?

Did you volunteer or were you drafted?

__________________
Best Regards,
JW

SLIP

Yeh, we used to get together after discharge. Then he moved out West & we weren't big letter writers so we lost touch.

Here's a pic of George before he enlisted:


Bill

Attached Images

GeoWozacek (Small).jpg (19.9 KB, 34 views)

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True knowledge leads some from cocksure ignorance to thoughtful uncertainty.

SLIP

After I missed out on getting into the 10th Mtn I said the heck with it and waited till I was drafted (couple weeks after D-Day).

Bill

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True knowledge leads some from cocksure ignorance to thoughtful uncertainty.

SLIP

After a long train trip from NYC ended up in Ft. Sill, Lawton, OK -- FA Basic Training. Loved the Army -- was just like being in the Boy Scouts, but bigger and more fun. Especially liked being out on the parade grounds where they taught us how to march all the fancy complicated moves, 'by the right flank, ...Haarch!', 'to the rear, .... Haarch!', etc. . Most of the guys in the battery were Southerners -- mostly farmboys -- didn't know their left foot from their right foot. It was all old hat to me. I felt very superior . (That didn't last long -- when we were doing the long marches, and morning calisthenics -- they outdid me regularly -- what a comedown!)

Everything was going well for svl weeks ... and then the rude awakening: first day of bayonet practice. They had us lunging at those suspended punching bags. And when the Sarge told us "after sticking it in his belly make sure to TWIST your bayonet!" That's when I got sick. That's when I got serious. That's when I started thinking about my mortality.

Bill

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True knowledge leads some from cocksure ignorance to thoughtful uncertainty.

Maybe the drill instructers should have used "gee" and "ha" instead of left and right, seeing has how that is probably what those boys were used to after plowing with mules. I'll bet that is what made them strong and have such endurance.

Bayonet, It must really got your attention. Did the Southern boys give you any real grief about being a New Yawker?

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Best Regards,
JW

I really liked the artillery - 'cause it was technical. I liked all those dials and calculations (that's when I decided to apply to OCS [Officer Candidate School]).

Then came the first day of live ammo. Here's the story on that one.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
FLYBOY TEX
I.
It was July 1944, about a month after D-day, on a hot desert day at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, a major training camp for the Field Artillery. We had been training for several weeks using dummy or empty shells on our cannon, the 105mm howitzer. The 105 uses a shell about 4 inches in diameter, 21 inches long, weighing maybe 25 pounds, and filled with high explosives. Today was to be our first day using live ammunition. The howitzer is serviced by a 10-man crew, each with his own specific job to do in a standardized routine. Over the course of the training session we each take turns in all the 10 positions.
One of the most important jobs falls to the Number 3 man. He is the one who rams the 105 shell into the breech block at the back of the cannon barrel. The breech block is a massive piece of steel a foot square, with a 4-inch hole in the center. #3 lifts the heavy shell, and developing a swinging momentum carries the shell around in an arc and then slams it home into the center of the hole. Then he holds it there with his fist until the #2 man closes the breech block door ... and the team gets ready for the order to fire.

Now we get into some nitty-gritty. The shell is designed to detonate when it's pointy nose cone is maybe 3 feet from its target, needing a mere few ounces of pressure to fire off. To give us an idea of the destructive power in each shell our training sergeant explained that if one landed in our area it would vaporize our entire artillery battery: 4 howitzers, each with its 10-man crew.

Next he spent a minute describing the safety pin that was built into each nose cone. It was positioned inside the side of the cone during manufacture at the munitions factory. As long as the pin was in place there would be no premature detonation of the shell's HE, or high explosive, charge. He further described how, because the inside of the howitzer barrel was lined with spiral grooves, or 'rifling', as the shell was fired out of the long cannon barrel, a hefty spin was put on the shell. And the centrifugal force of this spin sent the safety pin flying out the side of the nose cone, as soon as it left the barrel. Thus at this point the shell became 'armed,' and when the nose met its target 1000s of yards away it did its dirty work.

Then the sarge paused, slowly looked us all over, and said, "Now every 5 thousand shells or so, 'Rosie, The Riveter,' back in the munitions factory is daydreaming about some movie star, or didn't get enough sleep the night before, and ..... forgets to install the safety pin."

Then a somewhat longer pause...and, "Now there's 10 of you on each gun crew. As you know you'll each be rotating through the different jobs each position has. But when it's your turn to be the Number 3 man you better not forget that the lives of all the rest on your crew and the other crews nearby could depend on how you ram that shell into the breech block. YOU DON'T WANT TO TOUCH THE NOSE TO THE FACE OF THE BLOCK --- YOU WANT TO DEAD CENTER IT RIGHT INTO THE MIDDLE OF THE HOLE. Right?" 10 heads nodded in vigorous assent.

Finally Sarge, slow and deliberate, said, "3 months ago, in a training battalion before yours, here in Fort Sill, a #3 man rammed his shell into the side of his breech block....and the entire battery disappeared." Then he just walked away. Don't know if he was B.S.'ing us, but we sure quieted down after that.

II.
Now every one of us in the Field Artillery knew how lucky we were to be 'Redlegs' -- it was just eenie meenie minee mo at the Induction Center -- we could have ended up in the Infantry -- who had to march wherever they went (we got to ride in the artillery trucks), who were always in the front lines (we were almost always in rear echelon), and who's life expectency was radically shortened compared to ours.

But we had one guy in our outfit who had a different spin on his life. He was about 6-foot-4, lanky, with deep brown tan setting off his dazzling white teeth in what had to be a face more handsome than Gregory Peck and Tyrone Power put together. He hailed from the Lone Star State and was appropriately nicknamed "Tex." He had been a commercial pilot in civilian life, and his most fervent dream when the war started was to become a fighter pilot. However, they weren't taking big guys in for that duty -- couldn't fit into the tiny fighter cockpits. He tried pulling all the strings he could ... to no avail, and finally ended up being drafted....into the Artillery!
But his ambition was yet to be thwarted. During the few weeks we had all been together training not an evening went by when he wasn't making phone calls, always conniving to get a transfer to the Air Force. Results? Zero.

IIIA.
So here we were...live ammunition day. We each took our turn running through the positions, including #3. You can bet we were VERY careful the way we rammed our shells into the breech. Finally it was Tex's turn. He went over to the ammunition stack, picked up his shell, cradled it in his arms, lined up behind the breech block, swung his arms back ready to ram it home ..... and then he stopped short, with those pearly white teeth in the widest grin he'd ever displayed. He spanned that grin around to each and every one of us .... and then DELIBERATELY RAMMED THE SHELL INTO THE SIDE OF THE BLOCK!!!

A deathly silence.
The whole world, and our heartbeat, had suddenly screeched to a halt!!!
Each of us looked at each other.
Nobody said anything.
Then the sarge gave the order to rotate our positions.

IIIB.
A short 15 minutes later and it was Tex's turn at #3 again. All eyes were upon him, as he picked up his shell. He reared back, stopped, flashed his panoramic smile at the crew, and SLAMMED THE BREECH BLOCK AGAIN!!!!

Finishing off our rotations some minutes later, the training session closed down, we closed up our howitzers and went off to finish the training day doing other drills. There wasn't much said about what happened earlier in the day. Also there wasn't as much of the usual banter that was part of the GI lifestyle. I don't know what passed through the minds of the others, but I did some deep thinking that day.

IV.
The next morning we all lined up as usual in the battery square before breakfast, in our dark green unpressed fatigues, for roll call and duty rosters. And then we saw him. Tex was off to the side, spick and span in his Class A uniform --dress khakis, with his packed duffle bag standing beside him. He wore the biggest grin on his face, and waved a rolled up pack of papers in his raised right arm. "Hey, fellas, this is it....got my orders....I'm going off for flight training....I'll wave to ya'll as I go flying by someday!"

What he had in his hand were his orders to report to Forward Observer Flight School. They flew little L-4s -- single-engine Piper Cubs. Their job was as close to suicide bombers as the American military has ever produced. They flew at low altitudes, putting along at maybe 60mph, going over our front lines, and sometimes ahead of the front lines -- so that they could observe the enemies' positions and radio back to Fire Control that information. Their life span in combat was measured in hours. For Tex it was Heaven on Earth.

V.
And what did this story mean to me, at age 18? It was a big wakeup call. Up to that point being in the Army had been kinda fun --- it was more like being in a grownup version of the Boy Scouts, which was the biggest thing in my life as a teenager up till then. .......... I learned that day for the first time in my life that my destiny was out of my control -- that my life depended upon somebody else's judgment and action. That realization has colored my every life decision since that day 64 years ago.
+++++++++++++++++++++++

Bill

__________________
True knowledge leads some from cocksure ignorance to thoughtful uncertainty.

SLIP

Oh did they EVER! There were only 2 of us from NYC (Ted Theobold and I) -- more on that later .

Bill

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True knowledge leads some from cocksure ignorance to thoughtful uncertainty.

Fascinating!It's really interesting to read how these canons were used. I've always wondered why there weren't more 105mm vs the German 88mm . I guess it was cheaper to get the 75.

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Mr Bill,

If you click on the Quote button at the bottom right of each post, it will present the post in your reply in the manner above so that your comments will have a reference and make it easier to understand what you are addressing.

Have I thoroughly confused you? If so, just keep doing what you are doing, we're happy with it.

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Best Regards,
JW

75mm howitzers were not issued to US formations in Europe from about 1942-43 on, except for the 10 Mtn Division and airborne units, which retained 75s because of their light weight. 75s were used for training.

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Best Regards,
JW

Yeah, they were cheaper, but mainly they were small enough that a mule could pack them up those steep mountain trails. The 88s were pretty compact, so they worked OK in the mountains. So why didn't we Yanks produce a 90mm? Good question. Which leads to another question I asked svl years after WW2.

The occasion was during a discussion with an ex-Marine -- we were kind of buddies (altho he never let me forget I had been a mere mortal and he had been a MARINE ). I asked him, "Pete, I could never figure out how we won the war, 'cause I saw so many really STUPID things that came down the chain of command. How come we won?"

"Simple, Bill ... we were fighting against a military MORE STUPID than we were!"

Bill

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True knowledge leads some from cocksure ignorance to thoughtful uncertainty.