Southern France: August 15, 1944

A couple of the boys pose with a kaput Tiger.

The Third Division, along with the 36th, 45th and French divisions, landed in southern France near Cavaliere and St Tropez on August 15, 1944.

The 1st battalion of the 30th Regiment was set to come in with the 5th wave. We never before were so late in the lineup on any of our other landings and I, for one, felt a little uncomfortable with it. As consolation our regimental commander, Colonel McGarr told us, "If the other two battalions get into trouble and are unable to move, I want the 1st battalion to punch a hole through and crack the enemy defenses. That is why I am saving you men from the 1st for my haymaker punch."

The enlisted men referred to Colonel McGarr as "Bat Man" because he always wore a poncho when it rained. Then he would run around giving orders and waving his arms in the air and pointing off in different directions and the poncho made it look like he had bat wings.

Going Ashore

After the beach and coastal areas had been shelled and bombed by the navy our ship started to move toward the beach. The anti-tank platoon landed at the leisurely morning hour of 9:30 and again I was the first off the L.C.I. Behind me came our new 2nd Lieutenant. I ran down the ramp with a rope in case we still had deep water to go through but the ships bow was high and dry. As soon as I hit the sand I started running as fast as I could. The lieutenant was about 50 feet behind me.

Heavy mortar fire was coming in and one round hit right beside the Lieutenant I turn to go back to help him He waved me on and shouted, "Keep going." That was the last I ever saw of him, he hadn't been in combat a minute before he was wounded and got a Purple Heart. We later received a letter from him when he was still in the hospital. He said that the doctors removed 47 pieces of shell fragments from his body.

After the lieutenant was hit and had told me to keep going, I headed for the trees about 100 yards ahead. By the time the rest of the platoon got there the shelling stopped.

We stopped to get organized after our mad dash and then moved toward the town of Cavaliere by following a railroad track for about 1,000 yards. When we reached the little village I couldn't believe what I was seeing. All the people in the village were out in the street waiting to welcome us. They had bottles of wine and champagne and the ladies and girls hugged and kissed us as we went along. This whole thing became a very slow process as we walked along and it was a great welcome.

Many of the young women were dressed in light sun suits that showed off their legs to their best advantage. My God it was hard to move on and think that we still had a war to win. It had been two years since I had seen so many attractive girls. Another thing that amazed me was that our airplanes had bombed only about a half hour before. They hadn't hit the town but it was only a short distance away and here were all these people out to welcome us. It was too bad that we couldn't stay longer and enjoy it more.

At the end of the day we hadn't yet come in contact with the Krauts in any strength, just one two or three here and there and all they wanted to do was give up. At the end of the day we had a beachhead with a 25-mile perimeter. The other regiments had captured 2,000 prisoners.

A Bronze Star

The second day we went 30 miles with only spotty, ineffective resistance. On the third day at about six o'clock, the anti-tank platoon ran into a roadblock. The Krauts were shooting straight down the road we were moving up so we all dove into a large culvert. I didn't like the idea of spending the night in a culvert so I took my trusty B.A.R. and went after those buggers. I made a big circle up through the brush and got up even with them and also above them. I sat there for a couple of minutes watching four of them at their machine gun. I laid out a couple extra clips on a log over which I was going to fire. It was like I had all the time in the world. When I was ready I pulled the trigger and four of those jack-booted bastards went to their maker. For this little deed somebody put me in for the Bronze Star medal that I received four months latter. I thought that was real nice and I was proud to get my first medal.

Brignoles

A french resistance fighter poses in Brignoles just days after the southern France landings.

Most of our time in southern France was spent running around trying to find the enemy. The 30th Reconnaissance section was in action most of the time running into minor roadblocks and they would not even bother to call on us to help, as they would take care of it themselves. It seemed like for several days after we landed all we did was go through village after village and drink wine and kiss the girls. However when we got to Brignoles the Germans made up their minds to make a stand.

C Company was going to make the attack with the anti-tank platoonÕs second squad — which I was in charge of — ordered to swing around the left to put up a roadblock to stop the enemy coming from that direction. About an hour before C Company went into action, we set out to put in our roadblock. As we approached the area we found that the enemy had all ready put in their own roadblock. It was just starting to be daybreak and we could see the long barrel of an 88mm all-purpose gun silhouetted against the brightening sky and pointed toward town. Now we had to make a decision.

The decision to attack was left to Sgt. Leaser. He told half the squad to go to the left flank and half to the other and I was to stay where I was and open up with my B.A.R. three minutes after they left and keep firing for two minutes as fast as I could. When I quit firing the rest of the squad was on the position and the Krauts all took off. I'm sure they thought a whole company was attacking. An hour later when it was completely daylight one of our men was scrounging around and located a cave that served as a supply depot. He went in to see what he could find and one of his finds was a Kraut that he took prisoner. Somebody found a box of cigars in the cave so after breakfast we all sat around smoking cigars and feeling that we had completed our mission. C company would have had one hell of a time with that 88 if it was left up on that hill to shoot the hell out of them.

Good old Charley Company never knew that anti-tank guys helped save their butts at Brignoles. They really had a tuff time that day with 40 casualties and the company commander was relieved of duty that day. He was sent back to the quartermasters corps from which he came. He supposedly came up to revenge his brother who was seriously wounded at Anzio but this revengeful brother didn't know a damn thing about infantry tactics.

The following day A Company was thrown in to help out and Brignoles was ours in the first hour. The anti-tank second squad gave up the roadblock and we moved on.

Durance River

Engineers constructed this bridge over the Durance River in the area of the Third Division advance.

We traveled all night and camped on the banks of the Durance River where we guarding a bridge. About 10:00 in the morning someone suggested that it might be a good idea if we took a bath in the river. We hadn't had a bath since leaving Naples three weeks before. Since we had about 24 men to take baths we went in about eight at a time. Since I was in the first group I got my soap and towel and undressed on the riverbank. We had almost finished and were about to climb out of the water and dry off when someone discovered that there were two women standing on the bridge watching us.

We were all embarrassed to expose our naked bodies to strange ladies. I'm sure they thought it very funny as we hollered and motioned for them to move on. They finally left and we dashed out and grabbed our towels. The bath felt good even though we had to put on our dirty clothes. On about August 26 I was out in front of the column looking for a place to put our anti-tank guns our whole column was stopped on the road. I looked up and saw about ten P47s at 10,000 feet and thought nothing of it until I heard them starting to peel off and dive on a target I looked again and saw that the target was our column on the road. They certainly scared the hell out of me. I was in a deep cut in the road. I ran up a 12-foot bank and was out across a field about 100 yards before the first bomb hit. Fortunately only three of the planes dropped their bombs and strafed the column but they knocked out three trucks. A few men were wounded but nobody was killed and again I had my adrenaline fix for the day.

The treatment accorded all the troops by the friendly French pushed Franco-American relations to an all-time high as our men and vehicles pushed through town after town to be greeted enthusiastically with friendly smiles, cheers and hand waves from all. I think I had half a glow on during most of my first four weeks in France.

Praise and Prejudice

I remember one day we entered a town and as we got into the town we took a break. I was sitting on the curb relaxing and trying to cool off from hiking in the hot August sun. I had just tipped my head back to take a long drag out of my canteen when three shots blasted though the air right above me. I flattened myself against the side of the building and tried to figure out exactly where the shots came from. They came from above me on the second story of the building. There was a door only about eight feet away. I opened the door and saw a stairway in front of me I ran up the stairs and there was a door at the top. I hit the door as hard as I could with the butt of my B.A.R. The door flew open as I brought my rifle down to firing position.

I was facing four men that had just completed administering justice to a fellow countryman that had collaborated with the Germans. He was lying on the floor going through his last moments of life. Other towns that we went through we saw women stripped of their clothing and their hair cut off and were beaten with leather belts as they ran out of town. These women had given themselves to the German soldiers for special favors — mostly and usually extra food and clothing. The justice metered upon these ÒcollaboratorsÓ was swift and as I witnessed, sometimes final.

Montelimar

About the August 29 the whole anti-tank platoon was told to pass through the city of Montelimar as fast as we could to keep the Germans from destroying a bridge across the river and set up a roadblock to keep them from retreating across the bridge.

We were traveling 50 miles an hour through the city and our 57mm gun was in the air most of the time because this or any other gun doesn't have any springs so they really bounce when they hit a bump. As we roared through town, a woman ran right out in front of the truck and we had to come to a screeching halt. This woman was one that was being chased out of town. She had her hair cut off and was bare naked. Someone on the truck threw her a blanket and made her get out of the way and we were back on our way to the bridge.

We got across the river and later we found out what the rush was for. It seems that our artillery had spotted the remnants of the German 19th Army we had been chasing since the landing retreating on the road a couple miles ahead. A column of vehicles and horses was destroyed with 1,000 horses were killed along with 1,000 enemy killed and another 1,000 wounded. This incredible devastation was accomplished in a matter of a few minutes. As many as 4,000 prisoners were taken when the infantry arrived.

When we passed through the next day I had never seen such destruction of a fighting unit, not before or after. There was 10 miles of death and burned out vehicles and the stench was so bad that it made everyone half nauseated. We were glad to get by it. Two days latter our artillery liaison planes had to stay at 5,000 feet to avoid the horrid stink of the rotting soldiers and horses.

Moving North

The anti-tank unit with gun and trailer.

Around the September 10, my anti-tank squad was attached to B Company and as the column we were in started into a village the enemy spotted us and opened up with a fire from a 20mm flack wagon. The fire was tearing the place up as we followed on foot behind the company and to this day I cannot understand why the enemy didn't see us as we were right out in the open. When we saw the village being raked with fire from the flack wagon I called on a radio that we had with us for our gun to come forward. It was only about a half mile behind us in the cover of some trees. Wayne Turner our driver came as fast as he could without wrecking everything and as soon as he arrived we unhooked the gun, wheeled it around and dropped the wheels into the ditch at the side of the road. We grabbed several boxes of ammunition and dropped them on the ground behind the truck and yelled at Wayne to take off. He moved forward into the village where he had the protection of the buildings. It couldn't have taken more than 30 seconds until we were ready to fire. The Krauts threw another burst into the village and with field glasses we could see leaves on the trees move where they were firing from. I still cannot figure out why they didn't spot us because we were so exposed.

Our first round went right into the trees where we saw the moving leaves. Our first three rounds were high explosive and went right into the target and silenced the flack wagon. We continued firing with each man taking a turn at the gun. After about five minutes we saw about fifteen Germans running their guts out trying to escape. I continued to let each man practice firing the gun. We assumed that the Germans running across the field were the crew that manned the flack gun and that we could credit ourselves with eliminating it. It was the better part of a mile away and we didn't have time to go see what our fire had accomplished — we had to find out where B Company went.

Everyone had enjoyed the shoot out. I do not think anyone at battalion headquarters ever knew what we did because we didn't have an officer platoon leader to credit us for what we did. Of course we didn't want a medal for everything we did, just a little recognition. Since landing in southern France our second squad alone had eliminated three roadblocks, one 88mm gun and now a flack wagon.

Now as the Third Infantry Division progressed up the Rhone River valley and into the French mountain country enemy resistance continued to grow, fighting became more intense and as we got entered the Vosges Mountains, the enemy's resistance was taking its toll on our personnel. Our numbers were being depleted and we got many replacements.