A Soldier Strips the Romance Out of Life at War - Page 7

**b17sam** · #**151** (**permalink**) November 13th, 2008, 06:50 AM

The title of this thread caught my eye, because it resonates with whatI I've been trying to do (without much success} ever since I returned home after 35 missions as a B17 navigator in the 8th Air Force. I will post no pictures here of the abominable atrocities that occur daily in any war, although I do believe pictures similar to those on this thread have to be shown to those still unaware that war is indeed Hell. However, keep in mind that no picture, report, or conversation can reveal the true horror that men in combat undergo and can never forget. I, for one, will never forget how often I squeezed the cheeks of my ass to keep from shitting my pants as we headed straight into large boxes of greasy black flak. It may be worth remarking that while other military combatants were taught to evade or seek cover when fired on, bomber pilots had the discipline to fly straight into the heart of darkness where the flak was most heavy, over the target. No 8th Air Force plane was ever turned back by enemy action. Wounded crew members could not call for a Medic. Many of them died from loss of blood with no more aid than a fellow crewman could supply from an on board Boy Scout first aid kit. All this in temperatures ranging down to 60 below zero. And for those fortunate to make it back to base, there was always tomorrow and another mission. This was tough duty indeed as for all combat men, infantry, navy, or marines. This is a damn good thread. Keep up the good work and for more information see B-17 B-24 Pictures Information 8th Air Force Flying Fortress Liberator Ploesti Schweinfurt Merseberg Berlin missions.

b17sam

JCFalkenbergIII · #**152** (**permalink**) November 14th, 2008, 02:03 AM

German civilian at Dresden being burned in pyre after the February 14/15 bombing raid. So many were killed that they could not be buried quickly enough.

Thanks to Jeff/Slipdigit

JCFalkenbergIII · #**153** (**permalink**) November 16th, 2008, 02:11 AM

"In February 1945, Shorten was in a plane that never returned to its base. Instead, over Germany, the plane was targeted.
"It was something fierce," he said. "It was the one time I really began to get concerned about whether we would make it."
Shorten heard dialogue between the pilot, co-pilot and flight engineer in the plane, as engines started shutting down.
"I heard ‘uh-oh,'" he said. "Airplanes like that don't fly very well under one engine."
Unable to gain altitude to fly over the Alps to Italy, the flight crew turned the plane toward Switzerland in hopes of the country allowing them in.
"They didn't want us," he said. "They were shooting at us, but shooting wide of us. The Swiss shot down a lot of American planes."
The plane landed in a farmer's field and the crew scattered. "We ran like the dickens because we were afraid it would blow up," he said.
Armed soldiers showed up and they were taken in and sent to an internment camp in a mountain town, which used gutted hotels for the soldiers.
Back at their base in Italy, fellow soldiers raided the tents of the crew. Some took Shorten's shoes and a watch that was a graduation present from his parents.
"They didn't know what had happened to us, they just knew we weren't coming back," he said. "I tell you, your attitude about life and death changes quickly in those circumstances."
The crew never returned to their squadron in Italy, but instead were released after the war. Shorten and his comrades were shipped to Camp Lucky Strike in France, then across the ocean to New Jersey. A native of Scranton, Pa., Shorten returned to his parents and younger brother and sister.
"When I set foot back on U.S. soil again, I stood for a moment and I made a solemn vow to never leave again," he said. "It was easy to get over, but it was hell getting back."
He never returned to his original college, saying his nerves were too shattered.
"I was bad at the whole world," he said. "Flying these combat missions was very, very stressful, [and] warps you out of shape." Instead he finished his education at the University of Scranton, changing his course of study. "I switched to physics because I was through flying," he said."

Mount Airy veteran recalls service during World War II

JCFalkenbergIII · #**154** (**permalink**) November 16th, 2008, 06:27 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by b17sam

The title of this thread caught my eye, because it resonates with whatI I've been trying to do (without much success} ever since I returned home after 35 missions as a B17 navigator in the 8th Air Force. I will post no pictures here of the abominable atrocities that occur daily in any war, although I do believe pictures similar to those on this thread have to be shown to those still unaware that war is indeed Hell. However, keep in mind that no picture, report, or conversation can reveal the true horror that men in combat undergo and can never forget. I, for one, will never forget how often I squeezed the cheeks of my ass to keep from shitting my pants as we headed straight into large boxes of greasy black flak. It may be worth remarking that while other military combatants were taught to evade or seek cover when fired on, bomber pilots had the discipline to fly straight into the heart of darkness where the flak was most heavy, over the target. No 8th Air Force plane was ever turned back by enemy action. Wounded crew members could not call for a Medic. Many of them died from loss of blood with no more aid than a fellow crewman could supply from an on board Boy Scout first aid kit. All this in temperatures ranging down to 60 below zero. And for those fortunate to make it back to base, there was always tomorrow and another mission. This was tough duty indeed as for all combat men, infantry, navy, or marines. This is a damn good thread. Keep up the good work and for more information see B-17 B-24 Pictures Information 8th Air Force Flying Fortress Liberator Ploesti Schweinfurt Merseberg Berlin missions.

b17sam

Thanks for your post and for your service. And thanks for the thanks LOL.

JCFalkenbergIII · #**155** (**permalink**) November 16th, 2008, 06:31 PM

Heres a good article from a vet about the "glorious" and "cool" and "awesome" life it was to be a POW. Heres an excerpt,

The great escape: WWII veteran talks about life in POW camp

"After a short, desperate show of resistance, Parkinson’s entire battalion surrendered.

The American prisoners were marched 21 miles and herded into stock pens where they spent the night hugging the rails of the pens so as not to get sucked into the muck.

Early the next morning, the GIs were prodded into train boxcars for the trip to Germany and confinement in POW camps.

“It was 60 guys with diarrhea locked into one boxcar for six days — wow,” Parkinson said.

And they still hadn’t eaten anything but snow, the nitrogen in which having caused the loose
bowels.

On the second or third day of the miserable journey, Parkinson heard the hum of an airplane over the rattle of the rails, and it seemed to be diving in closer.

Then bullets came piercing through the wooden sides of the cars. Men started screaming.

The Allied pilot didn’t know that the Nazi train was carrying POWs because the cars weren’t marked on top like they were supposed to be. He made two passes and strafed the train from front to rear on both sides before knocking out the engine.

In his own boxcar, three back from the coal car, Parkinson had managed not to get hit. Others weren’t so lucky.

“About six guys caught it — bingo,” he said, snapping his fingers. “But there was nothing we could do for them.”

Parkinson finally arrived at what would be his home for the next several months — Stalag IV-B, located just east of the Elbe River and about 30 miles north of Dresden, Germany.

Covering 75 acres, the POW camp was one of the largest in Germany during World War II. When Parkinson arrived with the rest of the 7,500 American prisoners, there were already about 11,000 Allied soldiers of all nationalities confined there.

“If you want to imagine what the Tower of Babel sounded like, that’s what it was,” Parkinson said.
“There were about 10 different languages being spoken there.”

He soon got a feel of things.

Though the Germans fed most of the prisoners (excepting the Russians) on a more or less regular basis, by that stage of the war it was mostly thin soup and morsels of bad bread.

After the D-Day invasion the previous June, Red Cross packages only trickled into the camp, as the Allies relentlessly bombed German trains.

To supplement their meager rations, the prisoners horded what aid packages made it through and developed an actual market system. Gold rings and watches and cigarettes were the currency.

“Tobacco was number 1,” Parkinson said. “Money didn’t mean a thing. You might as well use it as rolling paper.”

Even tobacco became scarce after a time and Parkinson, a heavy pipe smoker, began lighting up English tea that came inside the British Red Cross packets.

“Between the garbage the Germans were feeding us and the Red Cross packages, it wasn’t too bad,” Parkinson said. “Still, if you wanted to lose weight, being there (in the camp) was a good way to do it. We were subsisting, but that was about it.”

Parkinson became pals with many of the British prisoners who had been captured the year before in the failed Market Garden campaign, as they played cribbage, a game he happened to enjoy. He also liked their dispositions.

And so he settled into his circumstances. The Germans assembled the prisoners early each morning for a head count and the rest of the day Parkinson spent exercising and playing cribbage with the English troops.

Parkinson and the other POWs got one cold shower a month, during which time they also scrubbed out their uniforms.

No one was sent to the camp infirmary unless they were very bad off. The Russians didn’t receive any medical treatment whatsoever.

One day ran into another, every day the same as the one before. The endless boredom could be deceiving, however.

“It was survival, period — there’s no other word to use for it,” Parkinson stated. “If you let down your guard, you had it, you bought the farm.”

As winter turned into spring, the prisoners nightly picked up the BBC on carefully hidden radios. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the Allies were winning the war. And getting closer to the camp.

One day in April, Parkinson was playing cribbage with some British soldiers around a table in one of the barracks when he heard a sound he recognized: The buzz of an American fighter plane.

Based on his last experience with “friendly planes,” he should have been wary.

The American pilot opened up with his machine guns on the enclosed camp, making no less than three passes and criss-crossing it with deadly fire.

Parkinson’s English cribbage partner, sitting directly across from him, caught a bullet square in the middle of his back.

“He never knew what hit him,” Parkinson said. “He was just across the table from me. How lucky can you be, huh? After that, everyone hated Americans. And all because some punk kid in an airplane wanted to shoot at something.”

The great escape: WWII veteran talks about life in POW camp - Neosho, MO - Neosho Daily News

JCFalkenbergIII · #**156** (**permalink**) November 21st, 2008, 08:30 PM

"I lay shivering in the pasture that night, feeling the snow melt as it hit my face. I was thirsty and I licked my lips to get a little of it. I covered my face as best I could with my helmet and tried to doze off but the sound of exploding shells made sleep all but impossible even though I was dog tired. My hands were cold and my feet were soaking wet. Trickles of ice cold water soaked into my shirt collar. I had two pairs of socks on but the leather combat boots we'd been issued weren't waterproof and my feet were wet. Shortly after that miserable night Wenzel tells stories of being fired upon by a German SS tank and having his helmet shot off by the flying shrapnel; of a platoon sergeant suffering psychosomatic blindness from the horrors he'd witnessed; and his injury in a horrific German artillery attack. "

WiscNews.com : Sauk Prairie Eagle

JCFalkenbergIII · #**157** (**permalink**) November 25th, 2008, 05:56 PM

"Then, during the Battle of the Bulge, he was wounded. A German carbine bullet sliced off part of his tongue, claimed eight teeth and tore a hole in his throat, lodging near his larynx. But it was the metal-covered Bible in his breast pocket that stopped the bullet headed for his heart."

http://www.azcentral.com/news/articl...rkins1123.html

JCFalkenbergIII · #**158** (**permalink**) November 25th, 2008, 08:26 PM

With the recent problems this morning I hope those who had posted in the last coupla days will repost

.

JCFalkenbergIII · #**159** (**permalink**) November 26th, 2008, 05:08 AM

Death frees WWII vet after 62 years of mental torment
By Lou Michel
News Staff Reporter
Before Edward F. Kielich marched off to some of the bloodiest fighting in World War II, he was like a father to his little sister, Peggy, reading her comic books and making up voices for the different characters.
He was the father she never knew.
When Kielich returned home from the war, he was silent and continually paced the floors of the family’s South Buffalo home. The young sister wondered: “Where’s my brother?”
He ended up spending 62 years in a Department of Veterans Affairs nursing home, his mind devastated by the horror of a war that psychologically impacted two of his other brothers as well. But Kielich’s family says he is finally free. The 86-year-old Army veteran died Nov. 16 in the Canandaigua facility.
Edward Kielich and his brother Gene had participated in the D-Day invasion of Normandy at Omaha Beach, which became known as “Bloody Omaha” because of the high number of casualties.
A third brother, Henry, flew in more than 60 missions above Poland and Germany, and a fourth brother came within a whisker of serving in World War II, had it not been for their mother’s fierce intervention.
After fighting his way into France, Edward Kielich became an anti-aircraft gunner and continued fighting all the way into Germany. He never suffered a scratch from enemy fire, but the carnage he witnessed devastated his mind.
Except for a few months at home in 1946, he would spend the rest of his life — and it was a long one — in the VA nursing home.
“I couldn’t believe they sent him home. I was 12 years old and wondered where’s my brother. He just didn’t talk to anyone and he paced the floor. Back then, my mother referred to it as shell shock,” Peggy Chapin said of what is now known as post traumatic stress.
The youngest of 11 brothers and sisters, Chapin, an Elma resident, said her father, John, a well known South Buffalo barber, had died six weeks after she was born in 1934 and her mother went out to work at a chemical factory.
But that was not enough and in time Ann Kielich was forced to pull her older children out of high school so that they could work and help support the family.
Edward Kielich was among the bread winners.
“I looked forward to Edward coming home from work. He’d put me up on his lap and would read comic books. There was a lot of laughter and joy,” she said.
In 1943, the laughter ended.
Edward Kielich was drafted into the Army. Gene Kielich would also be drafted into the Army. Henry Kielich enlisted in the Air Force. Paul Kielich, 16 at the time, also wanted to serve like his older brothers and enlisted unbeknown to his mother.
“My mother went down to the enlistment center and said ‘My God, you already have three of my sons and this son is just a child. He’s only 16.’ She got him out of the Army,” said Chapin, 74.
All three brothers who served in the war, the sister said, were never the same, though Gene and Henry managed to carve out lives for themselves.
“None of them were right, they all suffered terribly for what they saw and did for this country. That’s why we’re all able to have the freedom we have today. They fought for this country that they loved,” she said.
And now with Edward’s passing, all three are gone.
But, Chapin says she feels a need to share with others just how much Edward sacrificed for others.
He spent some 62 years in the nursing facility at the Canandaigua VA, but his family never forgot him. Every week or couple of weeks someone visited him.
He smoked cigarettes incessantly, until the VA adopted a no-smoking policy and he was weaned off tobacco.
In later years, he managed to utter a word or two and on one special occasion, he said, “I miss Mom.” Other times, he communicated by facial expression or a squeeze of the hand.
“He always held my hand and when I’d squeeze, he’d squeeze back. When I arrived at the hospital, he would smile. He always had a smile for me,” Chapin said, pausing to weep over her brother’s lost life.
Chapin says that it was her family’s solemn duty to make sure Edward got the care he needed and that they fought with the government until it finally realized its mistake and agreed to provide him with care.
She wishes she had visited more often but said that when she married and started raising a family, she could only travel to the Finger Lakes facility once a month.
But this past year, Edward’s heart started to give out and she began visiting once a week, sometimes twice.
“He was there when we needed him. He always sent his money home from the Army,” she said. “That’s why I loved taking care of my brother Edward because he took care of me.”
Some time next month, Edward Kielich will be buried with full military honors in Arlington National Cemetery.
His sister says it is a fitting place for her brother, who suffered more than six decades.

Death frees WWII vet after 62 years of mental torment : Home: The Buffalo News

JCFalkenbergIII · #**160** (**permalink**) November 27th, 2008, 12:31 AM

Sometimes people are still fighting the war and its memories for years after. Some are able to deal with what they did and saw and some can't. The psychological wounds can be just as deep with veterans and others who lived through the hell of war.

**Sgtleo** · #**161** (**permalink**) November 27th, 2008, 01:49 AM

Just got a break from my Care Taker Duties and after reading
this thread I recalled this:-

We had a man that for some unexplained reason whenever we
advanced he would start yelling real bad stuff at the Krauts.

I have to add this for emphasis - McGauley was a very good
looking Irish man proud of his looks.

One day as we were advancing we knew there were Krauts in
the area so we asked him to keep quiet to no avail.

He had advanced about 20-30 yards and started to yell like a
banshee. He was shot in the face while his mouth was open so
that the shell pierced his right cheek and exited the left cheek.
The Medic(God love them) that treated him said that if he had
kept his mouth shut he would have without a doubt lost his
entire set of teeth and probably his jaw. Saw him later and the
facial damage was minimal. Strange things happen in a war.

Sgtleo

JCFalkenbergIII · #**162** (**permalink**) November 29th, 2008, 01:25 AM

Thanks. Every addition is apreciated.

JCFalkenbergIII · #**163** (**permalink**) November 30th, 2008, 08:39 AM

Another thing I find interesting to point out is that in all the years that I have known and talked to Vets, whether Friends, Teachers ,Co-workers,Family members or others,is that I have yet to hear one call being in war or combat "Awesome" ,"Cool"."Glorious" or any of the other terms people who have never known war or served in one like to think it was like or was. And that was from people who served in WWII,Korea,Vietnam and present conflicts. I have talked to sailors,Airmen,Soldiers and Marines. 4 people I knew were B-17 pilots over Eruope and 3 of them were my teachers. My JRAFROTC teacher was one. And one of my friends years ago was even a 17 yr old Falshirmjaeger late in the war. His memories were not of "Glory" or "wonder". But of death and destruction and the crushing shame of what his country did. I wished I had talked to him more. But that was over 20 years ago. Now I have mentioned this site to a few of my Military friends with the comments made here and the most they do is just shake thier heads and chuckle. Most don't want to talk that much about thier experiences or dredge up old memories. Most usually say that they did what was needed of them and are glad its over. My father being one of them. He served two tours in Vietnam and was a career soldier in the Army. A volunteer. I asked him one time what he got out of being over there and his response was at least he was promoted 4 times and got some pretty colored cloth to wear on his chest LOL. He treasured the 30 odd years he spent in the Army but other then that not much else besides the friends and comrades he made in it. And not once did he say anything positive about being in combat. He mentioned the fear and hardships he and others had to go through.And that living with the knowledge that at any second in the field you could be wounded or killed or maimed was heavy on his mind. Their comments and stories are what took away some of my ignorance and romance about war that I had as a younger man and made me realize what it was and can be. And I can tell you right now I have more respect for those individuals then all the books,games and movies ever made. To hear it first hand and to see in thier eyes the pain and memories and emotions they feel and have. One of the reasons I encourage people to talk to our Vets before its too late.

Za Rodinu · #**164** (**permalink**) November 30th, 2008, 01:09 PM

See? None of your "Friends, Teachers ,Co-workers,Family members or others" ever rode a Panzer on the Russian steppes, fighting the Asiatic Hoards* on their ride in defence of Western Civilization, otherwise...

* I know, I know

urqh · #**165** (**permalink**) November 30th, 2008, 01:22 PM

JC, I only served in what is commonly called a police action if you like or the troubles to others, never had to fire a shot in anger, but the fear and what I can only call loathing for a better word was always with me. And I went back to bed every night. Yes there were adrenelin times and things happen with adrenalin pumping round, but I couldnt possibly imagine what a real battle field is like when your in it. I have nothing but respect for those that have seen it first hand. Would I ever want to serve in a real battle....Ask me as I drive past you in a taxi on the way back home.

JCFalkenbergIII · #**166** (**permalink**) November 30th, 2008, 04:44 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Za Rodinu

See? None of your "Friends, Teachers ,Co-workers,Family members or others" ever rode a Panzer on the Russian steppes, fighting the Asiatic Hoards* on their ride in defence of Western Civilization, otherwise...

* I know, I know

LOL You forgot " riding erect in the tank cupola of his armored steed. Blonde hair flowing in the wind"

JCFalkenbergIII · #**167** (**permalink**) November 30th, 2008, 04:46 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by urqh

JC, I only served in what is commonly called a police action if you like or the troubles to others, never had to fire a shot in anger, but the fear and what I can only call loathing for a better word was always with me. And I went back to bed every night. Yes there were adrenelin times and things happen with adrenalin pumping round, but I couldnt possibly imagine what a real battle field is like when your in it. I have nothing but respect for those that have seen it first hand. Would I ever want to serve in a real battle....Ask me as I drive past you in a taxi on the way back home.

Thank you for that urqh. I appreciate your service also.

JCFalkenbergIII · #**168** (**permalink**) November 30th, 2008, 04:51 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Za Rodinu

See? None of your "Friends, Teachers ,Co-workers,Family members or others" ever rode a Panzer on the Russian steppes, fighting the Asiatic Hoards* on their ride in defence of Western Civilization, otherwise...

* I know, I know

Reality was not exactly like the recruiting posters huh? Especially the ones for the Germans.

**Sgtleo** · #**169** (**permalink**) November 30th, 2008, 06:47 PM

JCFalkenberg III

I haven't admittedly read this entire thread essentially due to it's length but I wonder if those that think War/Combat is a good experience to be lived in any way shape or manner ever thought of what follows!!

If this post is out of order or too indelicate PLEASE delete it as I don't have that much pride in my authorship on the subject but I just wanted to show others another aspect of the field conditions experienced in combat areas.

This AM I was discussing WW II with another BTDT and we both agreed that little has been said or written about body functions perhaps because it is not usually factored in when men are reminiscing - even by the Vets themselves. We had out first trace of snow here with some very raw temperatures and as part of our discussion this came up but this could also apply to warm areas where men fought.

Picture if you will the conditions e.g. snow depth, cold, lack of shelter for starters and try to visualize how the average GI had to answer nature's call. In our area, the ground was so frozen that we couldn't dig latrines making it even more difficult to answer that call. The truly hated action was to adjust(lower) your clothing to accomplish the necessary without soiling said clothing and accomplishing the necessary ASAP due to the cold.

We had men that had dysentery and their underwear actually froze solid against their bodies making any movement a real chore and in some cases extremely painful. Many of these men soldiered on with great difficulty. I actually remember one man that told me after a bout of dysentery "That is the first warmth I have felt in about a week" and although true this was incredulous.

Just some more random thoughts on stripping away the glamor of war!!

Sgtleo

JCFalkenbergIII · #**170** (**permalink**) November 30th, 2008, 07:27 PM

No Prob. Totally appropriate for this thread. And you are right. No one really thinks about bodily functions. Especially when in the field and suffering from disease. Dysentery,Malaria and other types of disease. One of the other side effects of war. Short term and long term.

Slipdigit · #**171** (**permalink**) November 30th, 2008, 08:37 PM

I've read in several books of examples of men crawling out of their hole to relieve themselves and getting killed in the process. I can only imagine the decision making involved in deciding what is more important, a "clean" hole or what may happen if you leave the hole.

And it is not something easily done sans something to sit on and with the large amount of clothing worn by winter soldiers. I have a friend's father who was camping in the cold and had to "drop a mile post." He pulled down his coveralls, relaxed his anal sphincter and got a smile on his face. When he returned to his sleeping bag, he kept smelling doodoo. He checked the bottoms of his shoes, the sides and his pants leg, finding nothing. He then realized that he did not get his coveralls all the way out of the way and he filled them up, smearing the crap up his back when he pulled the coveralls back on.

He just packed up and went on to the house.

I can't say I blame him.

JCFalkenbergIII · #**172** (**permalink**) November 30th, 2008, 10:56 PM

I do remember reading quite a few reports and stories of Marines and Soldiers in the Pacific and CBI with Dysentery so bad that they cut out the seats of thier pants to save time.

JCFalkenbergIII · #**173** (**permalink**) November 30th, 2008, 11:26 PM

Unfortunately very necessary and embarrassing but certainly not "Glorious".

**Sgtleo** · #**174** (**permalink**) November 30th, 2008, 11:38 PM

JCFalkenberg III

While we are on the presonal hygene aspect of combat, I recalled the Portable Shower Units the Army had which I believe were a part of the QM Corps. The moved around from unit to unit.

Twice we were pulled back a short way to get our shot at the shower units and when you got through the Tent (that's what it was) you exited the other end with a "clean uniform" that wasn't always a perfect fit but the clothes were clean(recycled). The mechanized dandruff (lice) and their brothers(cooties) that lived in your clothes were gone but some of us continued to scratch almost like a coditioned reflex we had been doing it so long.

The first unit was A-OK but the second unit had a NCO in charge that decided to read us our do's and don'ts ad nauseum. The major gripe we had was that he set a 2 minute time limit that each man was allowed to get wet, wash the crud off, dry yourself etc get dressed and exit the tent. I don't know if he was joking but he said he was going to actually time each man. Unfortunately for him he chose to put his hand on the shoulder of a Plt. Sgt. who actually should have been sent back for R&R - big mistake - when he pushed said Plt. Sgt and told him that if he wasn't out in two(2) minutes he'd not get his "new" uniforms etc at the exit. The Plt. Sgt. lost it completely.

Before any of us could intervene the Plt. Sgt. grabbed an M-1 and shoved it into the face of the Shower NCO and I honestly felt that had we not stopped him he would have at least beat the daylights out of him with the rifle. For one of the couple of times I was forced to do so, I asked the Plt. Lt. to order the man away at least from the immediate area I doubt that he would have listened to a "Top" at that point he was so livid.The guy had been too good a soldier to screw up his life after what he had been through.

The Officer in Charge of the Shower Unit came along and after a discussion with our Lt. he sent his guy back somewhere with the caveat that he'd deal with him later. The rest of us had a leisurely shower and a change of clothes without incident.

Sgtleo

JCFalkenbergIII · #**175** (**permalink**) December 1st, 2008, 12:51 AM

"We got our Christmas packages — somehow. We took them and wondered how much longer this fighting was going to last. How much longer? We cursed the Germans for their insane desire to fight. We cursed them long for the life they had forced us to lead."

"But more than the mere German we fought the weather. Those winter days when snow fell like powder without pause, when the sweat of our dirty bodies froze our clothes to us! Our knuckles were raw and bleeding, and our lips were cracked. Our noses ran and our eyes were blinded by the whiteness that was everywhere. Our feet were wet and frozen and numbed with pain. The walking that had to be done was agony. When we could use our mess kits the once hot food was icy, the coffee useless. And in the howling wind of the afternoon or the cutting blast of the night, it was painful to use a latrine. For most of us sleep was a thing beyond our ken. There was time for nothing but fighting the enemy"

Lone Sentry: The Thunderbolt Across Europe: 83rd Infantry Division (WWII Unit History Map)