by F. M. Worden
The medic came back with another GI and they rolled me on to a litter. Up on the road he hailed an ambulance. The driver told him he had no room for another casualty. “I’m full up,” he said. Soon, several more ambulances came along all with wounded from the fighting at Cherbourg. The last ambulance stopped and I heard the driver tell my medic he had a dead GI on board. They unloaded the poor guy and put me in his place. Holy Cow, I’d taken a dead man’s place. I saw them put the dead guy over by the dead men from the jeep. I had so much pain I really didn’t care.
The ambulances all stopped at a collection spot on the cliffs above Utah Beach. One of the medics told me where we were, I really didn’t give a shit, I was hurting bad. More wounded came in. I saw Sergeant Billy Joe. He had a head wound. They laid him near me. I called to him and somehow he recognized me. “How you doing Al?” he asked in his deep familiar voice. He was up on his elbows looking at me. “I guess you heard your pal Hank got it this afternoon. Took one right between the eyes from a sniper. He had done a lot of kill-en just before he got his.”
Now I was in bad shape. I started to sob out loud and couldn’t stop. “Hey, don’t take it so hard, Al, I heard he was gonna get the big one, the Medal of Honor.”
I yelled back, “WHAT THE HELL!? I would rather he be here with me than getting a damned old medal.” Billy Joe wasn’t making me feel any better. I loved that son of a gun, my buddy Hank. Just like old Hank, the people in Macon, Georgia, will probably name some big government building after him and all the girls he knew will come around crying cause he’s gone. Damn old Hank anyway. I sure am gonna miss him.
Now it was getting dark. A lot of artillery could be heard in the distance. All the wounded were being loaded onto a waiting LST down on the beach. Within an hour, we were on our way to England. My time in Normandy was over.
“I’ll never have a friend like Hank again, and I’ll be damned if I ever want one. I loved that guy. I’ll never forget him.”
Chapter 2
Wounded At Normandy
All the wounded were loaded into the hole of an LST. God almighty, I was hurt-en. The place stunk like blood and puke. I couldn’t see old Sergeant Billy Joe anywhere. The boat started moving. The groaning and moaning were terrible. When I looked at my legs, the steel was sticking out as before, but at least I wasn’t bleeding anymore. My ankle was killing me. I was hurting something terrible. My only hope was the time would pass quickly. There were medics and nurses moving around the wounded giving what care they could.
I saw a nurse come toward me. She looked like an angel. She passed right on by and started to administer to a GI a few litters away from me. She was beautiful even in the half light in the hole of this LST. I don’t ever remember seeing or meeting a better looking woman.
Even in her OD coveralls and her hair tucked under a cap, I could see this was a real good looking woman. She had moved past me going away. I called to her, “Hey, Miss, I need some help.” She turned back and came toward me. God, this was a real beauty. She stood over me smiling, her cheeks had big dimples. I had never seen a better looking woman in my whole life; even in my pain, she was beautiful.
“What can I do for you, soldier?”
“I need a shot!” I was desperate. “I have a lot of pain.”
“Yeah, yeah, everybody on this boat wants another shot.”
I motioned for her to lean down. She did. I grabbed her by her shirt and pulled her face down to mine. Her smell almost made it all worthwhile. Her perfume was a real treat for my nostrils. God, she smelled good. “I need a shot bad,” I demanded.
“Let go! Let go!” she begged.
“Not till I get a promise you’ll give me a shot.” I was getting more desperate.
A medic saw what I was doing, came over and told me, “Let her go.”
“Get the hell away before I shoot your ass off.” I told him in no uncertain terms. He left, he didn’t know if I had a gun or not, he wasn’t taking any chances, smart fellow. She was struggling to get away. I hung on with all my might. “You going to get me morphine or not?”
“I can’t do that, only a doctor can do that.” She was still struggling to get away.
“Look, lady, either I get a shot, or you and I are gonna have some kind of bad trouble here and now.”
“You’re in no shape to have trouble with anybody.” She was looking at the steel sticking out of my legs. “Let go and I’ll try to get you some help.”
“You promise you will?” I pulled her face down almost touching mine. I told her, “I have a lot of pain in my legs.” I brushed her cheek against mine. I think she liked that.
She gave a big smile and said, “I promise, I promise.” I let her go. I was more forward than I had ever been in my life. Pain must have done that for me. In a few minutes, she returned and showed me a big syringe full of a clear liquid. She gave it to me in my right arm. “Soldier boy, you will sleep now,” she was smiling.
“Thank you, sweetie pie.” That’s all I could say.
She leaned down and said, “I want to get to know you.” She turned and strolled away. I enjoyed watching her walk. She hadn’t gone very far, I went out like a light.
When I came to, I was in a building I recognized. It was the same building we had stayed in waiting to board the LST several days earlier. I was still on a litter with a blanket covering me. I was thirsty and hungry. I peeked under the blanket and saw I had bandages on my legs. My ankle hurt like the dickens. As I looked around, I saw I was with a bunch of other GI’s on litters. Now I remembered the good looking nurse. She was nowhere in sight, damn.
A young guy in a white coat came over and stood over me. “You’re awake, I see. How you feeling?”
“I need something to eat and drink.”
“I’ll see what we can do. I took the steel out of your legs and gave you a few stitches last night.”
“What about my ankle? It hurts like hell.”
“I could do nothing, you must have an x-ray. Your ankle looks like it will have to be broken again to fix it right.”
“Holy cow, just what I need.”
“Don’t worry, you have a nurse looking after you. She’s been asking about you all night. Here she comes now.” I turned to see sweetie pie coming toward me. Good God, she looked good.
“I have food and drink for my favorite soldier.” Boy O Boy, did she make me feel better. She had a tray with a sandwich and a coca-cola in a bottle. I sat up as best I could. She pulled up a stool and sat watching me make short work of the food. I don’t think I was ever this hungry in my life. It all tasted so good. What a nice dining companion I had and I told her so.
She told me I would be going to a hospital shortly. “The more seriously wounded had gone on to hospitals last night. We will leave soon. The doctor fixed you up pretty good. I’ll be going with you wherever you go.” That was the best medicine I could have gotten. This was one beautiful girl, how lucky can a guy be? I asked if she could find out about Sgt. Billy Joe. She said she would.
More wounded started coming in from France. Many had terrible wounds. Buses with Red Cross painted on them started arriving. Me and the others in the building were loaded on the buses. My personal nurse got on my bus and we were off to some unknown destination. All night and into the next day, we traveled in a convoy of a dozen buses. I slept on and off all the way. When we were unloaded, my nurse came and told me we were at a hospital somewhere in Scotland. She said not to worry she would see me later that evening. We were all put in a good bed and had a good meal. There were more nurses here than I had ever seen.
My nurse came to me just as the darkness set in. She pulled a chair up and sat looking at me. “How are you feeling?”
“Now that you’re here, I couldn’t be better. By the way, what’s your name? Where do you come from in the states?”
“My name is Jenna Watson and I’m from Dallas, Texas.”
“Holy Cow, my brother married a girl from Texas. I hope it runs in my family.” Then I saw i
t, the Silver Lieutenant bar on her uniform. Holy shit, me a private mooning over an officer. I told her, “I can’t be your boyfriend, it’s against regulations. Officers and enlisted people can’t mix.”
She said, without missing a beat, “I don’t care, I never follow rules anyway, do you?”
“Well, I never had occasion to break any before.”
She took my hand and said, “If I’m to fall for you, I must know something about you. All I know is your name is Al. You’re darn good looking and for some reason I’m attracted to you.” How do you like that? This girl was making a move on me. Old Hank would be proud.
“Tell me about yourself first.” I wanted to know all about her.
She started right in talking. Her father was a Texas National Guard Army Officer. “He’s over here somewhere in Europe. He commands an Infantry Rifle Regiment in the 36th Division. My Mom is one Texas beauty and she teaches school in Dallas. My brother is in the Marine Corps and is in the South Pacific on some island called Bougainville.” She continued, “I started studying to be a nurse in high school. I went into training right after graduation. I joined the Army as soon as I finished and here I am. Now I want-a know about you.” How can I be so lucky? I thought to myself.
The GI in the next bed overheard us and asked, “Can’t you love birds knock it off and take it outside and let a guy get some sleep?”
I called back, “Blow it out your butt, Mack; I’m talking to my lady here.”
He yelled, “Drop dead, dog face. I’m gonna come over and clean your plow.”
“Yeah,” I was yelling, “I’ll kick your ass with my cast foot.”
An orderly came over and told us, “Knock it off, people are trying to sleep.” He told her to go get a wheelchair and take me out in the hall. “You guys can talk all night.” The whole ward was up in an uproar saying they all wanted to hear us. Holy cow, all these guys had been listening. We both started laughing, so did the GI in the next bed. Anyway, she put me in a wheelchair and we went out in the hall.
In the hall, I started telling her about myself and my family. “I was raised on a cattle ranch in the Southwest. My grandfather homesteaded the place in the 1890’s. My Dad was born on the place and so were I, and my two brothers. Tommy is the oldest, he’s an airplane pilot. Frank is now in the Marine Corps. He came over to Europe to study architecture in the late 1930’s. My Dad met Mom when he was in the Army during the First World War. My mom is French and was raised in Louisiana, that’s where dad met her. My uncle Bob, my mom’s brother, was a flying Ace in the war. He stayed in Europe and studied to be an Architect. He married an English girl. They live in the city near our ranch. They’re great people. They never had any children of their own, so they took us kids on like we were theirs. I love them both dearly, almost as much as mom and dad.” Can this girl listen! She just sat there and never said a word. She was smiling all the time. How very cute she was. I had to ask, “How old are you?”
“I just turned twenty, how about you?”
I couldn’t lie, so I told her the truth. “I’ll be eighteen in December.”
She kept on smiling and said, “I knew I would fall for a kid.” She laughed the most wonderful laugh I had ever heard.
“Does it make a difference?”
“Not one bit. Tell me more about your family. I want to know all about you and yours.”
How could I be so lucky to find this beautiful girl? I continued, “Tommy became a pilot at seventeen. Uncle Bob taught him, much against Mom’s wishes. Tommy was a natural, or so uncle Bob says. Tommy became a barnstormer at eighteen. Flew all over the west doing stunts and taking people for rides. He met and married a girl pilot. She’s with the Ferry Command and Lockheed, she delivers airplanes all over the globe. She’s the most beautiful girl you will ever meet.”
Jen said, “I’d love to meet her.”
I continued, “Tommy joined the Canadian Air force when England went to war with Germany. He flew with the RAF and is now in the Army Air Corps here in Europe. We’ve been told he is an Ace.”
“What a family you have.” Jen seemed impressed. I’m gonna try to keep her that way.
I began telling her about Brother Frank. “My brother Frank was a real problem for Mom and Dad. In fact, the whole family worried about him for two long years. He wanted to be an architect. He worked in Uncle Bob’s office all the way thru high school. My Uncle Bob sent him to Europe to study. Frank got messed up with the Nazis while he was going to school in Germany. He got drafted into their army. We didn’t hear from him for over a year.”
“I’ll bet your Mom and Dad were worried sick.” Jen had a real worried look on her face as she spoke.
“When we did hear from, him he had met and married a girl he met in Bosnia. She was a Texas girl, Laura is her name. She was working in Romania in the oil fields for her Uncle, her guardian. Frank said her uncle was trying to put the make on her. She took off. That’s when she and Frank got together. They fell in love and got married in Bosnia. It took awhile, but they finally made it back home. She lives with Mom and Dad while Frank serves in the Marines.”
“That’s a real love story,” Jen said.
“Yeah, Frank and his wife’s story should be made into a movie.”
“Maybe someday it will be a movie.” She’s so cute. I just had to pull her to me and give her a big old wet kiss. She kissed me back.
She said, “I think I’m in love.” She was gasping for breath. When I kiss-em, they get kissed.
“Tell me about you. I must know all about you,” she insisted.
“Not much to tell.” That’s the truth, there’s not much to my life yet. I started anyway. “When I graduated from high school, I needed a job to save money to go to college. My Dad had a friend who was a big boss of an aircraft factory in Wichita, Kansas. With his help, I got a job there running a drill press. I met a guy who wanted me to join the Army with him. He was some smooth talker. He got me a fake birth certificate and I joined with him. The dirty rat went with the Air Corp. He had told me he was going into the infantry. I did, he didn’t. That’s how I got here.” It was close to midnight when we finished our talk.
The next morning, I was wheeled into an exam room and had the cast cut off. When told to stand, I couldn’t straighten my foot. Back to x-ray. I had to have the ankle broken again. Six more weeks in a cast. When I woke up, I was in my bed in the ward, it was dark. It was a moonlit and windy night. The tree outside my window threw a shadow of dancing leaves on the wall across from my bed. I watched for some time as the leaves waved at me on the wall. For some reason, I wandered back to the time I was inducted into basic training at Camp Polk, Louisiana.
When my group got off the bus, a Sergeant came and introduced himself to us after putting us in line. “My name is Sergeant Billy Joe Williams. You give your soul to God, but your ass is mine.” And he meant just that. “This is the formation you will always be in, look at the man in your front, back and each side. This, you dog face, is how you will line up from now on. FALL OUT!” he ordered rather sharply.
That’s the day I met old Hank. We became buddies from then on. I don’t think I would have made it through basic without him. He braced me up every time I got low. He was a true, true friend, I’ll never forget him. The next three months were a living hell, but when Billy Joe was done, we were soldiers. I had to give him credit for that.
He gave us all a hair-cut. He cut all our hair off, that’s what I mean. We got issued personal serial numbers, a rifle and even it had a serial number. He told us, “The next time I talk to you, you better know the numbers by heart.” We got a cot and a new mattress, a foot locker and a wall locker.
In the first formation, I stood by old Hank. We became buddies that very day. The first day was easy. We got uniforms, our field packs and personal stuff like shaving kit, towels, wash cloths, sheets and blankets. The Sgt. taught us how to salute and stand at attention. The biggest thing was how to make up a bunk. It had to be just right, hospital corner
s and all. We were given the Ten General Orders all soldiers must remember. Then the training began.
The next morning, at five forty-five a.m., we were in first formation dressed in a T-shirt, fatigue pants and high top shoes. One hour of calisthenics, called PT in the army. This was every morning. That day, we learned how to do close order drill. The Sgt. taught us good. Soon, we were the best platoon in the whole dang camp. He said so. Hup-two-three-four, to the rear march, to the right flank march, hup-two-three-four. He had us doing it all. Then came the Manual of Arms. Right shoulder-ARMS-left shoulder-ARMS-Order ARMS. He said we did it right the first time, the man was a teacher.
We played Simon says and sang Jody was there, “Jody was there when you left, your right. Your baby was there when you left, your right. Your Momma was there when you left, your right. Sound off, one-two, sound off, three-four. Cadence count, one-two-three-four, one-two-THREE-FOUR. Ennie-meene-minni-moe, let’s go back and count some-mo.” As I say, he was a teacher. The next subject in our training, I got to shine.
My Dad gave us three boys a 30-40 Krag carbine on our twelfth birth day. He was a rifle instructor during the first war. He spent a week with each of us teaching us how to shoot. By the time I was fifteen, I had taken five black tail bucks. We spent a week taking the M1 Grand Rifle apart and putting it back together. We knew every bit of nomenclature of the rascal. We could take her apart and put her back blindfolded. A week of dry firing, then out to the range. I qualified EXPERT RIFLEMAN the first time. I was ordered to help the others. At the ceremony giving out marksmanship medals, only two in our platoon got EXPERT, me and Hank.
Basic over, we went to Fort Rucker in Alabama, to go into advanced Infantry training. We got weekend passes to go into the town of Dothan. Hank fairly shined with the girls everywhere we went. What a guy. At Rucker, we were taught squad, platoon and company tactics, both offense and defense. We learned all the common stuff, like hand and arm signals, the EE-8's telephone, walkie-talkies and the sound power telephone. We had all kind of maneuvers both dry and live fire.
