Encoded for the Experiencing War web site for the Veterans History Project.
The recording of the interview with Merrill R. Huntzinger was digitized.
This transcription was encoded with minimal changes to the original text in an effort to preserve original content and idiosyncrasies of the person interviewed. Period language and terminology are also retained. Encoding is literal with regard to the transcriptionist's capitalization, punctuation, and spelling. Spelling errors are indicated with [sic]; however, recurring errors in spelling within a single document have been marked the first time and not subsequently.
Today is May the 8th, 2002. We are at the Home Place Library in Carmel, Indiana. The veteran I am interviewing is Mr. Merrill R. Huntzinger, or Lefty. His address is 5923 Buckskin Court, Carmel, Indiana; date of birth, 6-17-24. Lefty served in the United States Army, Second Infantry Division, 38th Regiment. His highest rank was staff sergeant. He participated in World War II in the European theater. My name is Lesley Reser from Senator Lugar's office, and I will be conducting the interview.
Were you drafted or did you enlist?
Drafted.
Drafted. Where were you living at the time?
I was living in -- Rural Route 1, Upland, Indiana.
Upland?
Yeah. I lived on a farm.
Uh-huh.
My grandparents' farm. Rural Route 1, Upland, Indiana.
Uh-huh.
Home of Taylor University.
And you were drafted into the United States Army?
Yes.
Where did you go when you first found out you were drafted?
They sent us to Fort Harrison for one night and then to Camp Walters, Texas.
Was that where basic training --
Yes.
-- occurred?
Yes.
Tell me about basic training.
It was a standard 13-week basic, infantry basic, where you -- as an infantryman, you're supposed to be able to fire the -- all the mortars, all the shoulder weapons. That's the rifle, pumps and sub, carbine, and the sidearm, which is a .45-caliber pistol. You also need to qualify with the bayonet and hand grenades.
Did you find it pretty rigorous?
Uh-huh.
The training?
Yes, I did, because I was a farm kid and I thought it was -- particularly the hikes I thought was really exhausting.
Uh-huh. Uh-huh.
(Laughing.)
Do you remember any of your instructors?
Yes, I do.
They were pretty tough individuals?
Nice gentleman, happened to be from Morocco, Indiana.
Oh.
Yes, my training sergeant. His name was Geesa [ph]. I can't think of his first name, but his name was Geesa. He was from Morocco, Indiana.
Uh-huh.
Which was up near Kendallville, or up north. Sergeant Geesa. No, he was excellent. He was excellent. So was our officer. I can't remember his name anymore.
How did you get through basic training? Was it just kind of a grin-and-bear-it kind of thing or --
Yeah. Now, a lot of -- a lot of the boys that were taking that training were really too smart to be in the infantry. I mean, they qualified for special -- special schools.
Uh-huh.
Like some of 'em for intelligence. Maybe some for air force.
Uh-huh.
Maybe some for signal corps, that sort of thing. I didn't. I just barely got through high school, so I was just infantry material.
You were infantry material?
Yeah. But there was some young guys that went to what they call ASTP. As soon as they finished basic, they let them go to the air force or the ASTP. Some went to parachutes, some went to engineer, some went to communications, and I didn't have any skills so I just stayed where I was.
Then it looks like after Texas you went to Florida for a little bit?
Camp Blanding, Florida.
And received more training there?
Uh-huh.
And looks like then you were assigned to the Second Infantry Division?
Yes. You know, they shipped you to -- before you go overseas, as soon as you know that you're going to go, they give you a week at home.
I see.
Yeah. Then you report to -- I reported to -- oh, boy, Camp Kilmer, New Jersey. Yeah. And we sailed, I think, from Camp Shanks, New York area and I went over with -- 14,000 guys went on the US -- on the Queen Elizabeth, the biggest ship afloat. British.
Uh-huh.
The majesty's ship, the Queen Elizabeth. Fourteen thousand troops on that thing and they were all replacements. They were all gonna join places where the guys had been wounded or killed and they needed to fill in.
And where did the ship land then when it got --
It landed --
-- to Europe?
It's in Scotland.
Okay.
Up in the firths.
Uh-huh.
The firths in Scotland, and then they put us on a troop train and took us down through Wales and then through England, and then we got on a little ship and crossed the English Channel.
Where did you end up then?
And this was -- at Normandy Beach. And this was the middle of July. See, the invasion had taken place early June, June 6th, and this was middle of July. So I was about six weeks late for any landing problems.
And what was your assignment there in Normandy?
All we did there is all the troops were going to join an outfit. They -- I don't know how many there were of us infantry guys, but they had guys that had trained for artillery, engineers, infant -- you know, infantry, artillery, engineers and machine gunners and loadermen and all that. Anyway, they gave us our weapons and our equipment.
Okay.
And they said, all you infantry trained guys, there's a big blue flag over there. Go over where that flag is and there will be a -- some noncommissioned officers over there to select you for their outfit. And I went over to this one blue flag, that's an infantry flag, and there were about a dozen guys there, and there were two guys in a little -- there's a little trailer hooked up to a Jeep, and two guys were sitting in there. And anyway, I said, anybody here from Indiana? And these two guys both raised up their hands that was in the trailer.
Really?
Yeah. And one of 'em was Gordon Meeker [ph] from Plymouth, Indiana, and the other one -- oh, boy. Might have to look up his name. Another guy from Elkhart. I can't think of his name, but I think I've got it written someplace in here.
So you had instant bonding with them then?
Yeah. So here I am with two Indiana guys already going with this one sergeant, going up to his company and -- Tribble [ph]. Tribble. I can't think of his first name, but --
Okay.
-- Tribble from Elkhart, Meeker from Plymouth. And I said, gosh, can I join you guys? He said, well, you sure can, but you got to clear it with Sergeant Ivy [ph] first.
Uh-huh.
And I asked Ivy. I said, hey, these guys are from Indiana. I'm from Indiana. Could I go with you guys? And he said, what's your name? And I said, Huntzinger. And he said, I hate those German names. And I said, well, just call me Lefty. Oh, first of all, after he said that, he pointed to another guy and said, come over here. And I said, hey, hey, just call me Lefty. He says, okay. Get in the Jeep -- or get in the trailer.
Why did you think of the name Lefty?
Some guys called me that during basic training.
Are you left-handed?
I'm left-handed.
Okay.
Yeah.
Okay.
And first thing came to my mind. And he bought it, so we were able to stay together, but unfortunately the three of us got in that little trailer, and it was Sergeant Ivy. We were going with his squad -- his machine gun squad, machine gun section. But anyway, we got in the trailer and he said, okay, just throw your gear behind the driver and myself in that little seat behind them and you guys get in the trailer and we're heading out. And we said, well, where we going? He said, well, you're going to hell, but if you're lucky you'll go to heaven. He was right. We were. (Laughing.) Anyway, we'd been in that little Jeep trailer and we were -- we were going up through an orchard area. It was -- it was bluegrass orchard area, never been plowed or anything. It was just animals had grazed in there and people harvested the fruit from the apple trees. We're going up a path, a little dusty path. Wasn't a road, but all the vehicles were using it. So we were heading up towards the front and we'd been in that thing about ten minutes and we came face-to-face with an ambulance. So our driver pulled off of the path so as to let the ambulance go through, and we ran over a mine.
Oh, no.
And the trailer -- it lifted the trailer up, but it didn't go over. It went up about almost over, but it didn't go and then it bounced back down and that three, Tribble -- Meeker and I were thrown out, but we weren't hurt. Tribble hurt his back. And the ambulance heard that noise, they heard that explosion, so they stopped and they backed up and they just loaded Tribble right in there with some other wounded guys and took him up to Omaha Beach to the field hospital, and I saw him again after Thanksgiving.
Okay.
He didn't get discharged because of it, but he'd been out all that time --
All that time?
-- recuperating, and he rejoined us after Thanksgiving. Lasted one week and died of pneumonia.
Oh, really?
Died in his foxhole.
Oh.
Yeah, it was -- it was so wet and cold and awful up there. It was nothing, just water in your foxhole all the time. And he really did. First week he was back, he hadn't even gotten his clothes dirty hardly, but he just -- it was just too much of a change, I guess.
Uh-huh.
He caught a terrible cold, and, by gosh, he died. Everybody was really shocked.
So you -- you said you -- you started off with a rough situation there, hitting the mine --
Yeah, so then we --
-- right away.
-- go on up to the front lines.
Which was where?
This was in Normandy.
Okay.
Normandy, France. Normandy, France, yeah. And we -- there's Sergeant Ivy, and the Jeep driver is a guy named -- he was later killed during the Battle of Bulge. I'll think of his name in a minute.
That's okay.
Anyway, the Jeep driver and the sergeant and Meeker and I, we all -- they loaded us down with gear. We had a mail bag and two lard cans and some other stuff that we -- supplies that we were -- and ammunition and grenades and stuff that we were gonna -- while they're coming up, they're gonna supply the guys, load the vehicle with stuff and supply the guys, because they don't have any way of leaving and getting back for supplies. So we took supplies in with us and they assigned us -- they assigned Meeker to the first squad and me to the -- the first section and me to -- yeah, first squad and me to the second squad. And we just -- they took a guy -- the division went in the first day after the invasion, D + 1. That's when the division went in --
Okay.
-- to Normandy. I wasn't with 'em yet, see?
Okay.
They went in D + 1, June 7th, Second Division did. And so they assigned Meeker to a guy that had made the landing on the 7th and they assigned me to a guy that made the landing on the 7th. So -- 'cause they already had six weeks of combat. You know, they weren't as jumpy as --
Yes.
-- as you are the first day --
Right.
-- you're out there (laughing).
Right.
So that's what we did. We dug in with those guys and immediately he -- they let him -- they assigned him to be the gunner on one -- on the machine gun and me on the other machine gun.
Okay.
So we were immediately gunners. And there's five to six guys in a squad, including the squad leader. It depends on if you're fully manned is six guys in a squad. If you're not, there's four or five, and so there's a gunner and assistant gunner, two ammo carriers, a guy that carries the tripod and the guy carries a water can. The machine gun we had was water cooled. You have to have a water can, and it's got a big chamber they put water in.
I see.
So you can keep -- fire more rapidly.
Okay.
For a longer period.
Uh-huh.
So anyway, that's the way you -- you always have five guys, and sometimes you have six.
So I visualize this machine gun as huge?
It's about 60 pounds. It's pretty heavy.
Okay.
And you have to run with it.
Oooh. Okay.
A single guy. And you have to cradle it in your arm, you know. And it's hot. So what you do is you fold your jacket up as thick as you can and lay it there and then run.
I see.
You have to go over a hedge and across a field and over a hedge and across a field and -- anyway, yeah, it's heavy.
Uh-huh.
It's cumbersome. But about the -- oh, you dig in several times a day, because every time you move, you know they heard you or they saw you and you're gonna start getting mortar fire and artillery fire. Gonna get that. You're always gonna get small arms and machine gun fire at you, always. Any time you start across an open field, that's gonna happen. But once you make it across the field, that's when they start lobbing in stuff, because these hedgerows are pretty high in Normandy. We were playing in the hedgerow country, they called it.
Uh-huh.
And so we would -- they usually have a tripod under that machine gun to set it on. Well, in Normandy, in the hedgerow country, they had discontinued the tripod and they had welded on a metal spike about that long. Looked like a great big nail. It was about a foot long. And you just run up and do that and lay it in the hedge. Instead of a tripod, you just stuck that big nail in the hedge and you can just fire and then move right out. Once you fire a few rounds, you better hightail it out of there and try to set up someplace else along the hedge, because they're gonna find you real quick. And you dig in a lot, because they zero in on you with a barrage, and then so you move out to another little area, or behind the same hedgerow.
Uh-huh.
And dig another hole.
Uh-huh.
You always -- you just dig all the time. If you're not running, you're digging. You got to if you want to stay alive.
Uh-huh. Run and dig?
Uh-huh.
And I imagine you'd have to dig a fairly big hole?
Well, you get so you just scrape enough to get your chest and head down.
I see.
You know if you get hit in the butt or the leg it's not gonna be fatal, really. They can even blow your leg off and you can survive, but if you get a chest wound --
Right.
-- or head wound --
Right.
-- it's pretty severe, I'll tell you. Because we had no helicopters, you know. We didn't even have a Jeep up there.
Uh-huh.
Only time you saw the Jeep is if he was ordered to bring up mail or food and water. That's the only time the Jeep came up. It was just too dangerous to be up there.
Uh-huh.
And a lot of times he was supposed to come, he couldn't. It was just too dangerous. Couldn't get up there. They could hear him. They could hear that vehicle.
Uh-huh.
So he would -- he had a little walkie-talkie radio and he could reach our -- either our platoon leader or our platoon sergeant. Any time he's coming up, he'd tell 'em, hey, I'm on my way up there. You're gonna have to meet me. I'm gonna come within a thousand yards. You're gonna have to walk back and meet me.
Uh-huh.
Or I'll get within 200 yards, or whatever it's like up there today, and they told -- they'd tell him how far he could come up safely. And he said, I need some guys to help me carry stuff back. He said, I've got two water cans, I've got rations, I've got grenades, I've got mail, I've got all this. So on my eighth day in combat -- our medic had been killed two days after I'd joined the outfit and we were without a medic. So on my eighth day, Meeker and I decided we'd dig in together that morning, and -- and he dug a big hole. He was a digger, I'll tell you. He was small, but he was a digger. Anyway, he dug a hole big enough for three guys, and I said, what you gonna do with all this? You don't need this much. We're gonna be moving out of here in a minute. Well, he said, I like a big foxhole. And I said, okay. So anyway, that morning we see our platoon sergeant -- our section leader sergeant and our squad leader, a staff sergeant and a buck sergeant, said they were gonna go back and meet the Jeep driver and somebody else and they were gonna bring up rations and food and weapons and stuff. Not weapons, but ammunition and stuff. So said if we need more help, we'll come back and get somebody, but he said, I think the four of us can handle it. So two sergeants went back and they met this vehicle, they met the Jeep, and when they came across the last hedgerow before our hedgerow where we were, when they came over it, there the Germans spotted 'em and started sending in mortar like crazy, mortar fire, lobbing it over, and boy, it was quite a barrage. And there were four guys and there was a Jeep driver and, as I say, the two sergeants, and there was another guy in a brand-new clean uniform and he had a helmet but no I.D. of any kind on him and I thought boy, that's our new medic. Well, anyway, he was carrying -- he was carrying two water cans, the guy in the clean uniform, and the Jeep driver was carrying the mail, and then our two sergeants were carrying ammunition and food. So they got about halfway across that field, and man, they got pinned down and the guy in the clean uniform and the -- and the Jeep driver, they got up and ran and they jumped in our foxhole, Meeker's and I's foxhole. (Laughing.) But the two sergeants were out there in the middle crawling around. Both of 'em got hit.
Oh.
Both of 'em got hit. And Ivy, Sergeant Ivy, and Sergeant Cunningham -- Sergeant Ivy was my squad leader. Cunningham had both squads. He was in charge of both. Anyway, Ivy shouted, somebody come and help us. He said, Cunningham is hit real bad. I want to -- I need help. I'm gonna drag him over. And I looked at this new guy and I said, will you go with me? He said, oh, Lord, no, I can't do that. He says, you're gonna get killed if you go out there. I said -- and I asked the Jeep driver -- think it was (Beach). Think of his name in a minute. I said, can you help me? And he said, no, I'm not going out there. He said that's -- that's poison. That's suicide, man. He said, look at all the shells that are coming in on those guys. And I said, well, I'm going. So all I did, I peeled off my pack and I put -- I put my first aid kit in my back pocket and I started running, and the shells go off. I started crawling and I felt something really hot hit my leg. Boy, was it hot. And so I kept crawling and I got out to these two guys. And Ivy, he had a leg wound above the knee, and he wasn't complaining about it so it wasn't a bullet. It was a shell fragment. But Cunningham had caught a tremendous amount of shrapnel in his chest. And I wrapped old Ivy's leg with his first aid kit and I took Cunningham's and tried to fill up that gapping hole in his chest, and then I took the other one and decided it wasn't any use to stick that in there, so I just left it in my back pocket. But anyway, Cunningham was hit so bad that he was almost unconscious. He was not completely, but he was almost. But he wasn't even moaning or anything. He was hit so darn bad, and Ivy said, well, as soon as -- as soon as these guys quit shelling us, let's drag him over to your foxhole. And I said, well, there's two guys in my foxhole. He said, well, let's drag him over there anyway. And I said, okay. So as soon as there was a little letup, we just started -- we stood up and just drug him, and by the time we got him to my foxhole, he was dead.
Oh.
Poor guy. He didn't suffer long, I tell you that. But it turns out --
What about your leg?
Oh, I just wrapped it myself. It wasn't that bad.
Was it a bullet or some shrapnel?
Shrapnel, yeah. So I took my own kit and wrapped that up. But the guy in the clean uniform, that's the guy that baffled me. I thought, what the heck is he doing here? He doesn't even have a rifle. So I kept thinking, well, he's got to be the medic, because the medic didn't carry a weapon. Medics carried no weapons. Legally they didn't. Some of 'em did anyway.
Okay.
But you're not supposed to. Because if you're captured as a medic and you got a weapon, that's -- they're gonna shoot you. But about -- about two hours afterwards it started turning a little dark and they decided they would take Cunningham back, his body.
So how many people are in this foxhole now?
Well, there's only two.
Okay.
The guy in the clean uniform and the Jeep driver.
Okay.
Yeah. Because Ivy and I are sitting right next to the hedgerow.
Okay.
And he said, well, he said, my leg is bothering me, and I said, well, sure it is. And he said, as soon as we can, I think I'll ride back to the field hospital and we'll take Cunningham with us, the dead guy. We'll take him, and the four of us, the guy in the clean uniform, the Jeep driver, myself, we'll take Cunningham back, and he said, I'll get patched up and I'll be back probably tomorrow. I said okay. He said, how about you? I said, I'm fine. I said, this is not really a problem. I said, doesn't even hardly hurt. He said, well, you better do something about it. And I said, well, is this our new medic? And he says, no. So anyway, next day he comes back. They do that. They take -- everybody goes and leaves in the Jeep. Next day he comes back. They bring him back up and Ivy said, well, he said, you got yourself a Purple Heart. And I said, how? He said, you got hit. I said, who knows it? He said, they know it. I told 'em, headquarters Company. He said, I told 'em. And I said -- oh, and he said, and the chaplain turned you in for the Bronze Star for being a brave son of a gun. I said, oh, come on. He said, yeah, he did. I said, who's the chaplain? He said, the guy in the clean uniform. (Laughing.)
Oh, that was the chaplain?
I said, you're kidding. You're kidding. He said yeah. He said he'd never been up front. You know, six weeks we'd been fighting up here every day. He'd never come up. He decided he was gonna go up and see what it looks like up there, and he caught -- he caught a day when we took -- we took a real beating with mortar and artillery fire. And I said, well, I thought he was a new medic, because he had on clean clothes, and he said, nope.
But he never gave last rites or anything or --
He did.
He did?
He did. Yeah, I saw him leaning over Cunningham and he was weeping.
Okay.
Yeah.
Okay.
And I thought, well, that's really different, I tell you that. But he didn't tell me who he was, and I didn't ask, 'cause I just assumed it was the medic. And -- no, he did. He was weeping and he was saying something. So I know he did.
Okay.
I know he did. But he was a captain. See, nobody wore any rank up front.
Yes. Huh.
So isn't it crazy, how little things like that happen?
How long were you in Normandy then?
We went from Normandy -- let's see.
Because you said that was your eighth day of battle?
Yeah, that was my eighth day.
How long did that --
I was there from, like, July 15 through the last of August.
Okay.
Month-and-a-half --
Okay.
-- probably. Then we went from there to Brest, France, which is also in France, but it's --
What was the name of the town?
Brest, B-R-E-S-T. It's a big submarine base, German submarine base.
Okay.
It's on a coast, and I guess that would be the east coast. I think it would be. And -- I don't know if it's east or west. I think it's east coast.
And what was your mission there?
The Germans had that strategic submarine base there and it was -- it was the most highly defended thing you've ever seen. It was underground. Everything was underground, bomb-proof underground bunkers. And our Air Force bombed the dickens out of 'em for a week and they didn't phase 'em. Couldn't -- couldn't penetrate those big bunkers, and their infantry guys were so dug in that when they'd get a bombardment like that, they had trenches dug that were this deep and they'd just run in and get in those bunkers and you couldn't hurt 'em. So we wound up -- it took -- it was supposed to take it in two weeks. It's a big city and it was so important to capture because of the submarines there that were either -- they were either refueling or being repaired. So it was really an important place --
Uh-huh.
-- to get them out of.
Uh-huh.
So we were supposed to -- they thought we could take that in two weeks. It took us and two other divisions five weeks, almost six weeks to get the Germans to surrender. It was just really a battle to get 'em out of there because the way they were entrenched. But on our way to Brest, we were -- we were from -- probably half a mile from the main city area, we were in the suburbs, and we were catching a lot of machine gun fire, so I spotted this big building, like from here to there, two-story, looked like a really stable building, and it was a residence. Had been a residence made out of gray stone and I said, if we could -- I said, if we're fortunate enough that that's empty, we're gonna set up outside that rascal so that we're not getting this direct fire from these Germans, because they know where we are but we're catching all their fire out in the open. So we decided we'd try to get to that house, and we did and I thought -- I thought the guys would help me set up the machine gun. They all went to the basement and started eating rations. We hadn't eaten. And I said, hey, I need some help out here. I'm gonna dig this gun in a little bit and I want to -- I want to be ready because these guys are probably gonna attack this building. And they said, we'll help you in a minute. They said, why don't you join us? I said, I want to set this gun up, and I set that thing up and I was getting lots of fire, you know, because it was hitting the building right on the corner where I was setting up, and I was setting up so I could fire direct front and right, and then if I wanted to fire left I had to scoot it out and fire it and then pull it back. (Laughing.)
I see.
Yeah. So I -- I had her set up and I fired a few rounds and was drawing some fire and I was just thinking about going inside and saying, hey, come out here and help me on this thing. I want somebody watching my back. And I said, you ought to be out looking out these windows too. These guys may be heading for this building and we don't even know it.
Uh-huh.
I can only see around two corners. And they just ignored me and kept eating, you know, and by gosh, I heard something and I thought, well, it's one of my guys. I turned around and there's a young German standing there like this. He's firey red hair, he's about 18 years old. He's got a clean airborne outfit on, no helmet, no weapon.
Had he been in the house?
No. I don't know where he came from. I don't know where he came from. He must have come up from my blind side. Like I said, I told those guys, if you'd looking out the windows you'd have seen him. But anyway, he's standing there and he doesn't know any English and I don't know any German and he wants to give up. And I thought, boy, oh, boy, there's probably a whole bunch of 'em ready to jump right on me. So I didn't know what to do. I told him to sit down against the building, and he did. And here comes two more GIs down this little pathway and they've got four more German paratrooper prisoners, and they said, you want us to take yours? And I said, well, yeah, I don't know what to do with him. I said, I can't do anything with him. I can't keep him. He says, we'll take him. And I said, well, you better watch from your left because I'm catching a lot of fire from over there. They know I'm here. And they said, well, we'll go down this gully. I said, okay. That's our best bet, because if you don't, you're gonna get hit. So they all go down that gully and they're the length of this building into that gully and I hear all this firing, and they shot those guys. They shot those prisoners. And I tell you, as much as I hated Germans, that got to me. It bothered me. There's a young guy, probably never hurt anybody yet, really wanted to give up.
Uh-huh.
And he was executed.
Uh-huh.
It's just too bad. And I said, what the hell happened? He said, they tried to make a run for it. No way.
Uh-huh.
They didn't want to run anyplace. They wanted to give up.
Uh-huh.
So that's just one of the little dirty things that happens and you can't do anything about it, and I thought many, many times. What in the world would I have done with him? Couldn't let him tag along.
Uh-huh.
I couldn't have killed him. Could not. I just couldn't. Because I kept thinking, what if I was captured and they did that to me? Boy, that's pretty bad.
Uh-huh. Uh-huh.
We went from there to -- well, on my 99th day in combat I finally got a hot meal.
Ninety-ninth day. Wow.
Got a hot meal, change of clothes, change of underwear, shower and slept on top of the ground instead of in a foxhole.
Wow.
Ninety-ninth day. And we stayed in a -- it had been a military training facility in Belgium. We stayed there all night, and I tell people that they had a shower set up. It was -- it was pipes, parallel pipes running, oh, gosh, 40 yards probably. About a couple dozen shower heads on them and we're out there in the middle of this pasture field with just a trickle of water coming down, but we were all taking a bath -- all taking a shower and so glad to get a -- get a shower. Boy, we were filthy. And, in fact, we were so dirty that they said, well, the first building, go in there and take off your pants and throw 'em -- just throw 'em in a pile and take -- and in that other pile throw your shirts in that pile, and there's a great big box in the next building, throw your underwear in there because we're gonna burn 'em.
Wow.
I tell people that I threw mine towards the box and I missed and they stuck. We were so filthy.
Oh, you had to have been.
Oh, we were just absolutely filthy.
Now, it's starting to be fall now, right? You got there in --
This is --
-- summer? Late fall?
Yeah. This is middle of September, something like that.
Okay. Okay.
Yeah. Yeah. And so then we go to -- oh, the thing I want to tell you about, we were in this town.
This is Belgium?
This is Belgium.
Okay.
And what the heck's the name? Elsenborn, Belgium. Elsenborn, Belgium. And they said, well, you guys deserve a couple days off, and so what we've arranged is we're gonna put -- we don't have enough room here in all these barracks. The officers have pretty much taken all those over, so we're gonna put you guys in with these German and Belgium families. We've already arranged it. They know there will be three guys in each house. They know you're coming. They're harmless, and don't try to be nasty to 'em. Be nice to 'em because this is their property, and they said we're gonna put three guys to a home. So ours -- we went two miles out in the boonies to stay with a lady that was in her 50's and she had two daughters that were in their middle 30's or early 40's and they were all living together. Now, they were German and we're in Belgium. They were German, but they lived in Belgium.
Okay.
They spoke German and they had pictures of Hitler on the wall.
They did?
Sure, they did. And they had -- there was a picture of all three of their sons. I'm sorry. The girls each had a husband in the military. There was a picture of them and the older lady's -- the mother, her husband. A picture of all three of 'em hanging above a little old fire -- wood-burning fireplace there. And --
Was that strange?
No. That wasn't strange. It wasn't, really. These people are so close to Germany --
Uh-huh.
-- that it was just heavy German in that area.
Uh-huh.
And -- but anyway, they -- one of our guys, Meeker and I and that little guy, Pennsylvania Dutchman, he could speak German, and he talked with that old lady. She wasn't old. Hell, she was just in her 50's, I think. The daughters had to be -- she probably was in her late 50's and the daughters were mid-30's to early 40's. I'm pretty sure of that. And he asked her about the picture, and she pointed out her husband and she said that he was killed in Russia. He'd been killed. And he said, how about this? This was a Luftwaffe pilot. And one of the daughters said, that's -- that's my husband and hadn't heard from him for a year. Don't know where he is. And he said, how about this one? And this other daughter says, that's my husband and he's in Brest, France. He was a submariner. He had on a Navy uniform. And she -- what she didn't know is we'd just come from there. (Laughing.) So she didn't know that we either captured him or killed him.
Yeah.
Or wounded him.
Right.
We really had. And she had seen him within the past 60 days. He'd gotten a leave, so she'd seen her husband within the 60 days, but he was in Brest. So it was just a little coincidence there.
Huh.
A little irony. The thing there, while we were there, they were very poor, really, really poor, and the two -- the two daughters, they only had one pair of good shoes. They wore wooden shoes to work around the house, work around the property. They'd stuff -- they'd stuff straw in there and just put their bare feet in there, and eventually they crack and they'll break, so they wrap baling wire around 'em and put little tacks in to hold 'em, keep 'em together. They only had one pair of shoes and they wore that to work, if they had a job, or to church. And the two daughters worked part-time for a little -- like a -- like a little drugstore in Elsenborn, and the mother, she took care of -- she had -- they had four cows, one of 'em had a little calf, and chickens and ducks and a couple sheep and some pigs and a big garden and a little bitty wagon that they hooked -- hooked a pony to to go back and forth to town, or rode bicycles. They had bicycles. So we took -- we took their three bicycles one day. We asked her -- we were only there over night. The first day we were there we were -- we already had lunch at the -- at Elsenborn at the camp and she said, I'm fixing dinner for you. We said, oh, no, you can't do that. She said, yes, we are. I said, well, we're going back in and try to get some food then. So we went to -- can we ride your bicycles? They said sure. We took their bikes back for two miles to that little camp in Elsenborn and asked the cook in the mess hall if we could have a little can of spam and sugar and salt and anything that we could get. Oatmeal -- cornmeal rather, and she had butter, homemade butter. Oh, and some cheese. Anyway, we took some stuff back, some staples and some beans, and she was delighted. But he said, well, what are you gonna -- what's in it for me? If I give you all this stuff, I'd have to give it to everybody. He said, what's in it for me? I said, the only thing I got is a German flag that I've been wiping down my rifle with. It's got oil on it. He said, let me see it. I showed it to him and he said, I'll take it. He was just really excited about getting that dirty flag. (Laughing.) And we were excited about getting the food, and that little woman, that mother just went nuts when she saw that good stuff. And boy, she made us a tremendous meal. We had all kinds of eggs. All -- she cooked eggs that night and eggs for breakfast and we had spam, mush and -- anyway, it was really good and it was quite an experience. This lady, at night she had a coal oil lamp and she'd sit there and spin on a spinning wheel. I'd never seen anybody do that before. She's taking raw wool, unwashed raw wool that's been sheared, and it was just in a bag and she'd pull it out like this and twist it and it would make a little bitty thread and then she'd get that started and hook it around that spindle and then she'd run it under the spindle and then she'd start spinning off of it with the spinning wheel. And it was really -- really nice to watch that. And the daughters, they had an upstairs bedroom, one little bedroom upstairs, and the mother slept in the living room. She had a little cot in there. And the daughters wanted us to have their bed, the three of us to have their bed, and we didn't want to do it. We weren't dirty then. We'd already had our shower.
Uh-huh.
But we really didn't want to do that. And they said, yes, you're gonna sleep upstairs. Where you gonna sleep? We're gonna sleep out in the barn. Aw, you can't do that. Yeah, we are. So we tried sleeping on their bed cross-ways. It was just too short, so two of the guys -- we drew straws and I slept on the floor and two of the guys slept on the bed. (Laughing.)
How about that? How about that? I'm gonna flip the tapes for a second here. (END OF SIDE ONE, TAPE ONE; BEGIN SIDE TWO, TAPE ONE.)
You were with that family one night?
Yep.
One night?
Yep.
What was your next adventure?
From there they moved us to an area called the Ardennes Forest.
Ardennes?
Ardennes, A-R-D-E-N-N-E-S.
In Belgium?
No, we were in Germany now.
Okay.
Wasn't very far from Belgium, I tell you that.
Okay.
Maybe 12 miles, something like that. Just barely inside the German border.
Okay.
Inside Germany, rather. It was called the Ardennes Forest and it was the Schnee, S-C-H-N-E-E, Eifel Area and a big forest, big wooded area, and we were on the defense sequence. First time we'd ever been on the defense. We'd always on the attack. We were on the defensive.
So this was -- give me a month and a year.
This was late October.
Okay. October --?
'44.
'44. Okay. All right.
You want me to read?
Sure. That would be terrific.
All right. (Reading.) We wished we could have stayed longer with the Belgian family -- with the German family in Belgium, but by mid-morning we were joined by our other two battalions for our advance into the Schnee-Eifel Ardennes Forest sector of Germany, which overlooked the famous Siegfried Line. Fortunately, it had been overrun weeks earlier by American forces. Our Schnee-Eifel Area was a conifer forest with steep rolling hills and deep gullies. We underwent a lot of German airbursts, artillery fire, but there was limited face-to-face enemy conflict. GI patrols and Kraut patrols battled daily, but casualties were light and few Americans were killed during our eight-week defensive stand. On Thanksgiving, the word came up that our company cooks had driven up to within a thousand yards of our lines with a hot meal. My Indiana foxhole buddy, Meeker, and I flipped a coin to see which would go first for food. He won, so I stayed behind to man our machine gun position. He loaded his mess kit with food and his canteen cup with coffee and he was planning to enjoy his meal at our gun position while I went back for food. He wasn't gone long before we started receiving devastating fire, artillery tree bursts, where the shells explode above the treetops and shower shrapnel all over the area. Within a few minutes, Meeker came running and was within a few yards of our foxhole when he was wounded in his hand by a shell fragment. His food went flying and so did his coffee. He said he'd planned to share his food with me, because the cooks had gathered up all their gear and food and fled the area when the artillery barrage started. So we didn't enjoy Thanksgiving dinner in Germany after all, but Meeker -- Meeker's wound got him reassigned as a Jeep driver at Headquarters Company. However, he was wounded again in mid-December during the Battle of Bulge. We exchanged Christmas cards every year after the war until he died at age 85. I was able to visit with him in his Florida home prior to his death. He suffered seizures for several months before an x-ray specialist discovered a small shell fragment embedded in his skull above his ear. He had been carrying it since December of '44. It was decided not to remove it, and he took it to his grave. In Germany on December 10 and 11, our front line positions were turned over to the 106th Infantry Division, who had trained at Camp Atterbury near Columbus, Indiana. They were fresh from the states and untested in combat. They took over our foxholes, trenches and gun positions intact. We thought they were the luckiest guys alive. They didn't even have to do any dirty digging. It turned out they were very unlucky. Just five days after they would be -- just five days later, they would be the first Americans to be overrun by German tanks and fanatic SS and airborne troops, as Germany started their historic Ardennes offensive, the Battle of the Bulge. It was during the weeks between Thanksgiving and the second week of December, before the 106th Division took over our area in Germany, that we heard nightly movement of lots of enemy armored vehicles. Our division headquarters was told about it, but they ignored our information, even though we were dug in less than a mile from where the vast enemy build-up was taking place night after night. After the 106th Division took our positions, my 38th Regiment and our Ninth Regiment -- Regiment was assigned the task of trying to route the Germans out of the Monschau Forest Area where the enemy was occupying a major Ruhr River Dam fortress. Our objective lied ten miles north of our division headquarters in Belgium. The 106th Division took over our positions just inside Germany on December 11th -- on December 11th and we started our attack into Belgium on the 13th of December. During our advance up through Belgium, we underwent a lot of German artillery shelling, so it took us three days of crawling and running through the (Sanowan) Forest to reach our objective. Finally, on the morning of December 16th, we came upon a wide clearing and trees where we faced 30 German concrete bunkers. Treacherous razor-edged concertina wire was spread all along the front of all the pillboxes, and the entire open area was mined. We knew it was mined because we saw full-grown deer lying in the clearing. They had tripped the mine and were blown to bits. At this point, the Germans occupying the bunkers had not detected our presence and they had no sentries posted outside the pillboxes. We were instructed to fall back a hundred yards until we could call for our artillery to shell the clear area in front of the German concrete bunkers and hopefully blow through the razor wire and detonate some of the mines before we attacked the pillboxes. Our artillery was striking the treetops near us and splattering us with shell fragments and tree limbs. Now the Germans knew we were nearby, and we started receiving their mortar fire and machine gun fire. We radioed back to company headquarters and requested help from our combat engineers, who were equipped to blow through the wire barricade with their bangalore torpedoes, which could also trip some of the mines. The engineers arrived at dusk and blew open a path through the wire and the mines. We laid down heavy machine gun fire to cause the German infantry to scramble back into their bunkers. The engineers and riflemen then charged the first three bunkers and set off satchel charges against the back door of the pillboxes. The bunkers were telephone equipped from pillbox to pillbox, and the Germans soon decided to surrender in force. Within half an hour, we took 161 Germans captive. The engineers marched them back to their area, because we were planning to continue our attack to the Ruhr River Dams at daybreak and we could not spare any soldiers to stay with the prisoners. We spent a miserable night in the forest. The melting snow showered us all night long and shell-damaged tree limbs were constantly falling, and by daybreak, which was December 17th, we were soaked and hungry, tired and sleepy. You want me to keep doing this?
Well, or you can just tell it in your own words. Whatever you'd like to do.
All right. Well, anyway, the Battle of Bulge. This was the big one. (Reading.) Word was received that ten miles to our rear German tanks and their SS storm troopers and airborne troops had encircled our entire division on three sides and were threatening to overrun them in force. We were told to stop our attacks on the Ruhr River Dams and return posthaste to make a defensive stand against the powerful German armored forces in the small community of Krinkelt, Belgium. So we made a ten-mile forth march through the snow carrying all of our gear and weapons, and meanwhile we were being shelled by enemy mortars and artillery and rockets and small arms fire, and we're wearing dark clothing in that snow and we were really easy daylight targets, really, so we caught a lot of -- we got a lot of guys went in that caught a lot of dirty fire. Consequently, by the time we approached the Belgium town of Krinkelt, it was almost dark. The closer we got to Krinkelt, the more GIs -- the more dead GIs and Gerries we passed. They totaled in the dozens and it was a bad scene, really scary. The entire area was in total chaos, complete bedlam, as house-to-house fighting was taking place in force, and it was starting to get foggy. We came in front of a GI who was manning a 37-millimeter anti-tank gun. He told us we were lucky we hadn't approached his gun position in darkness because he would have blown us away. We all -- we alerted him to the fact that there were a bunch of 38th and Ninth Infantry Regiment guys behind us and not to fire on them. Two members of his gun crew lay dead by their foxholes. They'd been killed by an enemy rocket blast. We asked him where we should go. He told us the first two houses behind his gun position were occupied by friendly C-company riflemen. He spoke on his walkie-talkie to one of the riflemen in the first house and asked if it would be okay for us to pass through their house and the second house so we could set up to defend the third house. Permission was gladly granted because we had two machine guns. The anti-tank gunner said, for God's sake, stay off the street because the Krauts were firing at anything that moves along there. We quickly reached the third building and set up to defend it. One of our squad members was killed and another wounded in our attack on the pillboxes, so we were down to eight men plus our medic, plus two 99th Infantry Division riflemen who had been separated from their platoon the previous night near the pillbox area joined us. There was lots of movement, silhouettes in the fog and darkness. We heard the anti-tank gunner fire one round and then the German tank fired on the anti-tank position and silenced it. Seconds later that huge, heavily armored Mark Five started up our street. Its supporting infantry met heavy fire from C-company guys who were defending the first house. Quickly, that big German armored beast swung its long 88-millimeter barrel directly at the first house and fired into the middle of the building. The GIs who survived the blast scrambled out the rear of the house and joined their fellow C-company men in the next house, as we laid down supporting fire from the third house against the advancing Germans. It was dark and foggy but we could clearly see enemy forces guarding through the snow and running in the street. Their dead and wounded littered the snow-covered lawn on the street side of the building. While the Krauts were reorganizing to attack the second house, the GIs in that structure ran out its rear through our building and quickly set up to defend the house behind us. Then the big Tiger tank fired through the ground level of the second house, after which their infantry tossed grenades through its windows and stormed the structure. Receiving no resistance from that second house, the Tiger started towards our building. We decided that if we remained quiet, the Germans might think our building was empty and bypass it. The tank pulled up beside our house and shined a big spotlight through the basement window. We were hiding in the basement. Our medic, God love him, had the savvy to stick his arm out the window and wave his helmet, exposing the big red cross on it. The storm troopers immediately pulled him out through the window and he shouted for all of us to surrender and come out the front door of the building unarmed, no helmets, nothing. It was embarrassing to surrender, but rifles and machine guns are no match for an enemy tank, especially a Mark Five Tiger. Our captors -- our captors immediately searched us, took our watches and rings and wallets and cigarettes, and several enemy then went to the basement and soon came out with our canteens, K-rations and other personal items we had in our backpacks. Then three of our captors ran us from several blocks back -- for several blocks back to a small brick schoolhouse that had several artillery shell holes in it. They took the nine of us and two guys from the 99th Infantry Division who had joined us on our retreat in Ruhr River area and impounded us in the basement of the school. There were eight severely wounded Germans down there, and the school was being used as their aid station. We soon learned that one of these three Germans who ran us to the schoolhouse was an officer. There was a really young baby-faced German in a soft cap attending to the German wounded and trying to console them and serving them alcohol-laced water to help relieve their pain. This baby-face wore a Walter P38 pistol, as did the officer, who also carried an American Thompson submachine gun that he had probably taken from a dead or captured American. The officer ordered the other two Germans who helped escort us to the school to go outside and guard the side of the building that looked up the street. The officer spotted a knocked down Jeep across the street that had a water can on it. Our captors desperately needed water for themselves and their wounded. We, too, needed water. They had taken ours ten hours earlier. The two 99th Division guys volunteered to go for the water can, fully expecting to run toward the Jeep and then escape in the fog. It didn't work. The moment the two Americans bolted from the school, we heard rifle shots ring out. It sounded like our troops firing on them. Then we heard the Germans firing. We don't know what happened, but our 99th Division buddies did not return. The German officer went ballistic. He said, Americans kill own comrade. Americans kill own buddies. Little Shorty, our German speaking guy, was the only one in our group who understood German, and he didn't reveal it. When our captors conversed among themselves and decided that before they started their morning attack at daylight, they'd kill us because they could not spare any of their men to stay behind and guard us. Later, Shorty told me the Krauts planned to come back for their wounded after dark that evening. I would guess it was about 7:00 in the morning when a fierce fire fight took place outside our schoolhouse. The German guards outside the building had been destroyed by one of our rifle patrols, who then tossed a grenade through the front entrance of the building. It exploded on the floor above us. The German officer handed his baby-faced comrade his pistol and bounded up the stairs with his Thompson sub at the ready. Babyface now had two pistols, which were used to keep us at bay. The officer was immediately gunned down and another grenade bounced about three steps down the basement stairs and exploded. That's when the little two-pistolled German then charged up the stairs and was immediately killed. We started screaming, we're GIs, we're GIs, don't shoot. We're coming out. And at the top of the stairs, as we were exiting, lay the officer and Babyface, who was wearing a hairnet over long blond hair. It was a woman, probably a medic or a nurse.
Oh.
Once they had rescued us, one C-Company rifleman handed a spare M1 rifle and full clips of ammo to my section leader and told us to run up to the corner of the second block and hide in a large gray stone building until they could send someone back with weapons for all of us. As we were running through the snow and early morning fog, we passed very close to a German Tiger tank and its crew of infantry. They were dug in around the tank, were sharing some breakfast before beginning their attack. They heard us. They fired several shots at us. We kept running between buildings and finally reached the stone residence where we were told to hide. Once we were in the house, we discovered our little veteran was missing from our group. He had been bringing up the rear, and as we passed that German tank and its troops, he had apparently been pinned down and possibly wounded or recaptured. I learned after the war that he did survive the war, but I've never been able to really locate him to discuss his fate, whether he was captured or what. There were two dead Germans and a dead GI just outside the back of our gray stone building. I took the GI's helmet, his M1 rifle, five clips of ammunition and two grenades. I suggested to one of my squad members that he search the two dead Krauts in hopes of finding food, water, candles, cigarettes, toilet paper or dry socks. I also asked that the dead American soldier be carried into our building. My section leader and I then climbed the ladder into the attic and took -- and started looking around. My newly acquired M1 had snow packed in the barrel. I improvised. I urinated into the breech, down through the barrel. I tapped the barrel with the heel of my boot. Out dripped the yellow snow. I looked out a shattered window facing a street, and there were Germans scampering all around. My section leader called me over to the broken window on his end of the attic and there were dozens more crouched, digging foxholes, and darting in and out of buildings within 50 yards of our house. My attic window looked across and down the street where we had passed the tank troops who were having breakfast. They were preparing to start their attack in the early morning fog. They, too, were only 50 or so yards from my vantage point. I heard the tank start its noisy engine -- start its noisy engine, then the tank hatch opened. Someone stood up, took a quick look around, threw out an empty 88-millimeter shell casing, and I popped him. Then I opened up on crew members who were outside the tank. Another person from inside the tank stood up. He, too, threw out an empty 88-millimeter shell casing. He was mine. I ran to my section leader, Eddie, looked out his window, and he was dropping Germans right and left. I told Eddie I was firing on tank crew members and their support infantry, and because of the morning fog and the loud engine noise of the tank, I was hoping the enemy could not see the muzzle blast from my rifle or determine where my shots were originating from, but they did. The tank engine accelerated and the big barrel of its 88-millimeter cannon swiveled up and straight towards the top level of our building. I told Eddie, my section leader, they're gonna blow us out of this attic. He said, the hell with 'em. Keep killing the bastards. I emphasized again we needed to scramble to the basement, but he ignored me. Then an 88 tank shell exploded at the roof line on Ed's end of the room. I felt like my head was the size of a pumpkin. My ears were ringing, my head was thumping, my forehead and face felt like it had been sandblasted. There was a thick, dusty haze, and the smell of explosive powder burned my nostrils. Eddie was lying on his side facing away from me and I asked him if he was okay. He didn't respond. I rushed back to my window and Germans were kneeling outside our building directly beneath me. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. Then another tank blasted -- then another tank shell blasted near the roof level of the adjacent room, and that sent me bass-ackwards and gave me a nosebleed. That explosion also brought Eddie out of unconsciousness and he asked me if I was okay. I told him I was okay. Are you okay? He moaned that he could barely hear me and he couldn't see. I looked at his face and he was seeping blood from several spots on his face and fluid was seeping from his eyeballs. I told him to give me a few seconds and I'd get him out of the attic. I looked out the street side window and there were more Germans crouched against our building, grenades in hand, preparing to attack the ground floor level of our house. The other seven in our group were hiding in the basement, unarmed. So I dropped a grenade on the Gerries who were directly beneath my window, which stopped them from getting into our building. I was moving back towards my front window when a tremendous explosion rang out from the street. An American tank destroyer had heard the German tank firing on us and fired one of its deadly 90-millimeter shells from about 80 yards away. The nasty shell struck the German tank and it began to smoke. Then another friendly shot hit the Gerry tank and it started burning. The enemy infantry supporting their tank panicked and scattered in all directions, and they were easy targets for me. On Eddie's end of the attic there were victims of his sniping efforts lying everywhere, many within spitting distance. Ed was totally blinded that morning of December 18th, 1944. We exchanged Christmas cards every year until his death in January of 2001. He was 86 years old. He received a Silver Star and a Purple Heart for his bravery and sacrifice. He was fearless. After the American tank destroyer had blasted the enemy Mark Five tank, which was almost directly across the street from our gray stone building, I asked for help from my squad members to get Eddie down from the attic, which now had two huge holes in its roof. It was starting to get dark and the fog was very heavy, so I didn't know where to find medical help for Ed. Our medic had seen friendly troops running behind our building, so he thought that it would be safe to take Eddie in the direction they had gone. Ed could not -- Eddie could walk all right, but he couldn't see and he could barely hear. One of the newest members of my squad, a former bartender from New Jersey, volunteered to take Ed in search of an aid station. They found help, because Eddie was hospitalized for many months. But the volunteer never returned to our machine gun section. I wasn't really sorry, because he was a genuine pain in the butt. He always refused everything he was asked to do and his favorite rebuttal was "court-martial me. I'd love to go to a nice, warm, safe place like prison". When darkness arrived, somebody, maybe some guys from Charlie Company or even some guys from my own D-Company, guided us out of the town of Krinkelt in heavy fog. Enemy mortar, artillery, and rocket shells were exploding all around us. We had no digging tools, no helmets, no grenades, and only two M1 rifles and very little ammunition with which to defend ourselves. The snow was mushy and slippery, but we retreated out of the shell-ravaged town unscathed but completely soaked, exhausted, thirsty, hungry and disoriented. Approximately two miles outside of Krinkelt we came upon an open trench which had been abandoned by the Germans. Since we had no way to dig and no defensive weapons, we were told to spend the night there and remain until someone from our company could replenish us with weapons and supplies. This is getting too long.
No. It's great. Keep going.
(Reading.) At dawn, we heard of one our -- we heard one of our little half-track weasels about a hundred yards from us. It was picking up dead Americans. We waved and it came to our rescue with water and some K-rations, but had no blankets, no weapons, no digging equipment on board. The assistant weasel operator had a field radio and he contacted our company headquarters, which was several miles away, and explained that we had been captured and rescued but had no provisions or weapons. We had a map of the area -- he had a map of the area and pinpointed our location for them. After -- that afternoon we were supplied with combat necessities and trenching tools and were told to stay in our present area until notified otherwise. We decided to move out of our open area and dig in near a woods about 200 yards to our rear. This gave us some protection from the wind, made us less visible from the rear, and we could cut twigs from the giant conifers to line the bottom of our foxholes so we didn't have to stand in muddy, icy water like we'd been doing all night long for two days. Eventually, other guys from our platoon took defensive positions in our area. Other than German artillery bursts and occasional fire fight with an enemy patrol, it was pretty calm in the area. However, we had no way to warm ourselves or dry our wet boots and clothes, so we stayed cold and miserable for six weeks until we finally --
Oh.
-- made the long march back to the Belgian city of Elsenborn where we could get clean, dry clothing, a few hot meals, baths, and sleep with a roof over our heads. While we were attacking the Kraut pillboxes in the Ruhr River Dam area, it -- I became entangled in some razor wire that had been installed by the Germans in front of their concrete bunkers. It was hidden by the snow and when I stepped in it, my boots were slashed just above the ankle on both feet. My feet became soaked and stayed that way from December 17th until we arrived in Elsenborn on January 31st. That was a nine-mile hike. All six of those weeks the temperature stayed below freezing. When I pulled off my boots at Elsenborn, most of the skin from the bottom of my feet peeled off also. My toes were gray, my big toes were blue. I hobbled into the next building that was being used as an aid station. I spoke with a medic who referred me to a young medical officer. The doctor didn't say a word. He just tied a tag around my ankle, which had the letters ZI on it. That meant Zone of Interior, or home, baby, home. I boarded an ambulance with some other guys who had frozen feet and we were on our way to Paris and an Army general hospital. I stayed in Paris hospital about four weeks. I was then taken to Cherbourg for a boat ride cross the English Channel to another U.S. general hospital in Southampton, England. I left England May the 7th, 1945, the day the Germans surrendered to the Allied Forces.
Wow.
I was put aboard an American hospital ship, the U.S.S. General Bliss, for my trip back to the states. Bliss was a big white ship, plainly marked with giant red crosses on her smokestacks. We sailed as part of a convoy of ships that were making return trips to the U.S. to pick up war supplies for their return trip across the Atlantic to European ports. We sailed early on the morning of May 7th and by late afternoon a German submarine surfaced near the hospital ship to surrender to American naval forces. They wanted to be sure not to be prisoners -- they wanted to be sure to be prisoners of Americans and not the Russians. It was not to be. The vessel was escorted back to England for their surrender. Back in the states I was hospitaled at Camp Butner in North Carolina and I received a medical discharge from there on August 27, 1945, which ended a total of six-and-a-half months of hospitalization for my frozen feet. To me, the worst thing about combat was worrying about being killed without anyone in my family realizing the misery I was going through. I was also saddened me to think how long I would have to wait in heaven before I could meet my family again. I finally learned to cope by convincing myself that each day in heaven would be like a tick of a clock, each month like a second, each year like a minute. Thus, I'd probably be with my loved ones again in only an hour or so, and that was my solace. As a postscript, after one of my guys searched the two dead Krauts that laid outside the gray stone building, from which Eddie and I did our sniping, my squad leader said to me, hey, Lefty, look what I got from these dead Gerries. He held up a gold wristwatch and a gold ring. I said, damn, that watch looks just like the watch I had when I graduated from high school, a Gruen with my name engraved in the back. It was my watch.
Oh, my gosh.
He threw a fit and he said, I suppose you're gonna claim this damn ring, too. I said, if it has the letter J on the crown, and 1942 on the side, it's mine. And it was, and he was livid.
Oh.
In searching the Germans, he had also retrieved three potatoes, four turnips, an onion, a supply of toilet paper, some candles and a packet of lousy cigarettes, and I let him keep those. In closing, I want to note that my 38th Regiment distinguished itself by destroying 78 German armored vehicles in the first four days of the Battle of the Bulge fighting, for which it received a Presidential Unit Citation and the Belgian Fourragére. The American combat units who fought in the Bulge suffered 76,000 casualties with more than 20,000 killed. The 20,000 who gave their lives represented the largest group of Americans to die in any single battle in American history. I left the division after more than 200 days of combat. They fought on for the duration of the war in Europe, suffering more than 15,000 casualties, and the division had 3,000 men killed. The division also had six Medal of Honor winners, two staff sergeants, two buck sergeants, one PFC and one private. I received my second Bronze Star for assisting Eddie and keeping the Germans from killing or recapturing us on December 18th, 1945 -- 44. The citation reads as follows: Staff Sergeant Merrill Huntzinger, 35096641 Infantry 38th Regiment, for heroic achievements in action on 18 December 1944 near Krinkelt, Belgium. During an enemy attack on Sergeant Huntzinger's company, a German tank approached within 50 yards of the house that Sergeant Huntzinger occupied. Firing his M1 rifle, he knocked out the gunner in the turret. Sergeant Huntzinger then moved to another room and fired at the enemy infantry that was following the tank. The tank crew fired two rounds of 88-millimeter into the building, where Huntzinger was -- where Huntzinger was standing, the impact knocking him down. Standing fast in the next room, he continued firing with extreme accuracy, forcing the enemy infantry to withdraw. Sergeant Huntzinger killed and wounded a total of 12 Germans. The courage and coolness showed by this -- shown by this enlisted man reflects high credit on himself and the military service. Entered the military service from Indiana.
That is the most amazing story. It is just amazing.
And I'm gonna give this to you.
Oh, thank you.
Because my niece --
Thank you so much.
My niece bugged me for a year --
I'm so glad you did that.
-- to do something, and I did. I said, I'm gonna put some other history in with it, though, about growing up on the farm as a poor kid. But anyway, that's yours.
That's wonderful.
And I --
How did you get through all that?
I don't know. It's just amazing. I'll tell you, it is, and I -- a lot of guys had it rough by comparison.
You had it pretty rough yourself.
That's me when I was a kid.
Oh. What did you do after you -- after you were released and you got your feet all healed? You came back to Indiana?
I was discharged the 27th of August, and they had already dropped the Hiroshima and Nagasaki. They had already brought the atom bomb there.
Okay.
So -- and I knew I wasn't gonna be called back anyway, because I was -- that day I got a medical discharge.
Yeah.
And I had disability. So anyway, they handed me my discharge. They didn't tell me anything. They didn't tell me I had schooling available if I wanted it. Didn't tell me anything. Didn't give me any medals. Didn't do anything. Just handed me my discharge and said, you can -- you can go out and catch a bus. They said, that will take you downtown. You can catch another bus out of Raleigh and go home and here's your -- here's your travel pack. Honestly, that's all they told me.
That was it?
I didn't know doodly. I didn't know I had benefits. So I got on that bus, and there was a young officer with the same shoulder patch, and he said, hey, soldier, come over here and -- sergeant, come over and sit with me, will you. And I said, yes, sir. And he's from Columbus, Ohio, graduate of Ohio State. Asked me, what you gonna do now? I said, I'm going back and probably go back -- I was working in a factory in Anderson, in a foundry. I said, I'll either go back and farm, because my dad wants help, or I'll go to that factory job again, because they kept my job open for me. They said they would.
Uh-huh.
My seniority was continued all the time I've been gone. He said, well, what about your education? I said, what -- what do you mean by that? I said, I finished high school. He said, no, aren't you gonna go to college? I said, oh, God, I couldn't go to college. He said, why not? Government is gonna pay for it. You don't even have to take an entrance exam. I said, you're kidding. He said, no. They should have told you all this stuff. And he said, no, he said, you need to go to college. He said -- I said, well, I just barely got through high school. Man, I'm a C student in high school. I'm gonna be a farmer or a factory worker. I didn't even study in -- don't make no difference, he said, you got to try it. And he said, I'm gonna take you out to -- you're gonna stay overnight at my house and I'm gonna take you to Ohio State, show you around, and we'll find -- we'll get some questions answered out there. So he did that. And I can't think -- today I can't think of his name. Ain't that pathetic? He might still be living. I can't think of his name. But anyway -- anyway, he did that. He took me to Ohio State, and it was so big. I thought, my Lord, how do they ever get from class to class? And he said, what do you think you're interested in? I said, well, I just came from combat, and death didn't bother me. I think I could be a mortician or I could be a veterinarian. Well, he said, yeah, but did you have any science? I said, no, I didn't take anything I didn't have to take. I took algebra is the highest math course I took. No chemistry, no language. There was only 14 in my class. And he said, oh, man. He said -- so he said, let's ask the advisor. And the advisor said, no, he said, you better think something else. He said, I'll tell you what you do. As soon as you get home -- he said, well, in fact, are you gonna go through Indianapolis? I said, yeah. He said, well, you stay overnight in Indianapolis and you go to the VA and you tell 'em that you got some -- that you want to go to college and they'll guide you. And the VA gave me an aptitude test and said that I was interested in business. (Laughing.) And I said, oh, really? Yeah. You're interested in business, and we've got one of the best business schools in the United States right here, Butler University. I never even heard of it. I'm serious. I never even heard of it.
Uh-huh.
And I said, well, what I do now? He said, well, where are you staying? I said, I'm staying over at the Y over on Illinois Street. He said, well, you go over on Capitol, one-way north, whatever that -- or maybe it was Illinois. It was Capitol, I believe. It's only a few blocks over, and if you see a trolley that says Butler University, you jump on that sucker if it's heading north, and when it makes a U-turn to come back downtown, you get off and you're there. And it did that, and I did that and I got out there and they just welcome every veteran with open arms. I had my uniform on and a guy named Dr. Maxin was the bursar and he wanted to know everything. He said, okay. He said, the thing you got to have, he said, you got to go over to your high school and get your credits, your high school credits, and he said, we're gonna have freshman indoctrination in three days, so you got to be back here for that. I said, man, three days. I said, I haven't been home yet. He said, I don't care. He said, you're going to college and you be back here in three days for that freshman indoctrination. I said, where am I gonna live? He said, well, you can stay at the Y, can't you? I said, well, no. I don't know if I can or not. He said, well, stay at the Y. And I said, well, I'll try. And he said, no, you got to be here. I'm gonna be looking for you. You know he wasn't, but I'm gonna be looking for you. And I said, well, okay. So I got home. I told my dad. He just had a fit. He said, well, you hardly got through high school. He said, how you gonna pay for this? I can't pay for it. I said, you don't have to. The government is gonna pay me. He said, oh, fiddlesticks. He said, no, they're not. I said, yeah, they say they are. And I told him, I said, I've got disability, too. I'm gonna get a little pension every month. He said, are you really? I said, I am. So anyway --
So you went to Butler?
So I went to Butler.
And you graduated?
I graduated.
And you got your degree?
I got my degree.
In what?
Business and journalism.
And what was your career then after Butler?
Then I started -- I started with -- first job was the Brownstown Banner in southern Indiana. Brownstown is the county seat of Jackson County. I started as a reporter on that little weekly paper, and there was another kid there from Butler that had graduated the same time I did. Between the two of us, we had too many reporters and the owner asked me if I'd like to try selling advertising. I said, sure, I'll try it. And I did so well at that he just -- he said, well, you're gonna sell full-time and Keith is gonna do all the writing and you're gonna sell full-time. I said, okay. That's fine with me. So I sold for two-and-a-half years on that little paper.
And where was this, you said?
Brownstown.
Brownstown?
That's the county seat of Jackson County.
Yep. Okay.
Two thousand people. I just loved it down there. Couldn't make any money, and he was apologetic. But, you know, the Times offered me 15 dollars a week. A college graduate. Offered me 15 dollars a week, and then I found out the only reason they offered me that was because I still had one semester left of GI eligibility and they were gonna pay the other 15 dollars. So they could really pay me 30 dollars a week, but the Times was only gonna have to shell out out of their pocket 15, so they could pay me 30 a week. And my advisor, oh, he got mad when I told him. I said, hey, man, I've been -- I've been sweeping at the field house, sweeping up and doing night guard -- night watchman duty there, and I said, I'm making 60 dollars a week part-time. He said, oh, you're not. I said, yeah, I have been. I said, man, I just -- he said, yeah, but this is your career. I said, I can't help it. I'm married. I can't do this.
When did you get married?
I got married in my senior year in June, and I graduated in January right after Christmas.
Gotcha. Gotcha.
My wife was -- she's younger than I am, but she didn't have any military, of course, and so she got out before I did and so she helped pay our finances.
Uh-huh.
You know, she helped with finances.
And you have two children?
I have two sons.
Uh-huh.
Yeah.
How did you get to Indianapolis?
After the Brownstown Banner, Hook Drugs ran an ad. There used to be a Hook Drug Company. I don't know if you're familiar --
Sure.
-- with that or not. And they ran an ad. They wanted an assistant ad manager. So I went up and interviewed and they hired me. They didn't pay anything either, but they were nice. Nice people. I lasted two years there. And Blocks ran -- __________ Block Company, do you remember them?
Uh-huh.
They ran an ad. They wanted an advertising production assistant. So I went over there and interviewed and they hired me. I worked there about two years. I really liked it there, but they didn't pay anything either. So anyway, that's when our kids were born, while I was working --
Uh-huh.
-- at Block. Both boys. Our boys are 11 months apart. Took us five years to get the first one.
Uh-huh.
So I was at Block's. There was a guy from the North Side Topics, little weekly newspaper out of Broad Ripple.
Uh-huh.
He would come up each week and he'd pick up an ad for the North Side Topics, and he was a bartender but he was a rel- -- his wife was the niece of -- no, his wife was a cousin of the gal that owned the Topics. So he was -- she had him working there selling ads and he said, hell, I can't even do a layout. He said, I don't know what I'm doing, but he said -- I said, well, are you making any money? He said, well, here's my paycheck from yesterday. And it was $300. I said, was that for the month? No, he said, that's last week. I was making 80. I said, you're kidding. He said, man, if I could do this kind of stuff like you're doing, he said, I'd be in heaven. He said, she'd put me on commission, and he said, I'd just be in heaven. And I said, well, would she hire me? He said, are you kidding? In a minute. I said, well, when can I talk to her? And he said, any time. Tonight, tomorrow, Sunday. I said, hey, I want to talk to her. And I did, and I started handling a hundred accounts.
For the North Side Topics?
A hundred accounts a week.
Wow.
Some of the ads were this big. Some of 'em were full pages, but I got commission on everything over a certain amount, and that's the first time I ever made any money. I spent five years on that paper. Then I went to Channel 4 and sold for about two-and-a-half years, and then I went to Channel 13 and sold for a year. Then I went to (WIFE) and sold for eight years.
Got a career going?
Then IBC for 11 years, and several stops in between with other smaller stations.
That's very exciting.
But I had 30 years in broadcast, total. Between newspaper and broadcast, at least 30 years.
Yeah. Yeah.
But when I retired, I retired from WIBC, and my sales manager quit when I did and went with Emmis Publishing, which handled -- they publish Indianapolis Monthly Magazine.
Uh-huh.
And he went in there to run that program and he said, and I want you to come over. And I said, hey, I just retired. I know, but, he says, you'll get bored. I said, no, I won't. He said, no. He said, you're only 66. Come on over. And I said, oh, gosh, Jack. You name your hours. So I said, okay. I'll work Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. That will give me Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday off. That's fine. I couldn't get it done. I sold more than I could handle. And I told him. I said, you better be getting a guy full-time in here because I can't handle this. This is too much.
Uh-huh.
I'm supposed to be a retired person.
Right, right.
And he said, well, you're right. He said, it really needs somebody that can spend more time on it than you are. He said, so I am -- I am gonna find somebody. Will you stay and train him? I said, sure, I'll do that. So then that was the end of it. I worked about two years there, so I've been retired ten years already.
Good.
I'll be 78 next month.
Well, I appreciate your interview very much.
Too much. It was way too much, but I don't care.
No, it was wonderful. I appreciate your story. You had a lot to tell and I'm glad you told it. I'm really glad. Thank you.
[END OF INTERVIEW]