Dogface Soldiers Memoirs
 

Corporal
Howard B. Nickelson

 

Introduction

Drafted

Operation Torch

Conversation Part 1

Sicily

Conversation Part 2

Anzio

Breakout

France

Germany

Austria

DRAFTED

Montana Number Seven
Fall 1940

It was the fall of 1940 and the rumble of war in Europe was at a high pitch. Hitler was cleaning his nest of undesirable people and making room for his elite race by overrunning his neighbors for their land and slaves for his war machine. We were getting into trouble, big trouble. So during mid-September Congress passed the Selective Service Act, a peace time military draft.

On October 29, 1940, a blindfolded Secretary of War Henry L. Stimson drew the first of the numbers to determine the order in which men will be called under this new law. As fate would have it, I was informed by the Silver Bow Selective Service Board that my number was the seventh to be called into the service. I guess somebody had to be seven. I had planned to return to school in February as I now had enough money to go back. The first draftees left in November and I was informed it would be February when I would be called up.

February came and on the 20th I was on my way to be a drafted recruit. I went home again and left my Chevy Coupe, my books and a few other possessions. I never saw my first car again, and I don't remember what happened to it.


Howard Nickelson 

Howard Nickelson


We boarded an old train coach at Butte and headed for Missoula. Almost everybody had a fifth of whiskey, and by the time we reached Missoula the party was well organized. When they opened the doors to the old coach almost everybody fell out that door like spuds out of a sack. There were Army types running and hollering trying to get us in a bunch. We were Butte's best. They finally got us to Fort Missoula and fed us and pat ups up for the night in a big old squad room. The party went on for most of the night with dire threats from the soldier boys. The next day they stripped us down and about four I guess doctors looked in every hole in our body. They looked in one of my ears and dug out a big piece of wax, felt me and since I was warm I was on my way to $21.00 a month after I said "I will serve."

One of the guys, a raise miner who was still drunk, kept sneaking around and going through the line again and again. Finally one of the docs said "Haven't I seen you before?" The guy's body was all bent out of shape. I guess he had met up with one of Butte's widow-makers. He went back to driving raises for the Anaconda Copper Mine.

I think that the next day I was put on a train headed west, destination Ft. Lewis or Tacoma, Washington. An old soldier boy picked me up at the station and headed me toward the two story wooden barracks of the 69th Engineer Company, a topographic company that was to make and distribute maps. I was happy to be picked to be in an outfit where I thought I could be of some use.

In addition to that $21.00 the Army was to feed and clothe that warm body they were give by the Selective Service of Butte. The Army kept its word and I headed for the Supply Sgt. Who issued me a uniform and other stuff they thought I would need consisting of the following: one World War I vintage type blouse, one or two pants of World War I issue and nicknamed horse blanket pants and the other clothes needed including a heavy long wool overcoat of modern make, I guess if I wore the overcoat I wouldn't look like a World War I recruit. All kidding aside I think the offices were ashamed to give us those clothes but that is all they had. I found out that all the guys were educated or had a trade for the business at hand. In those first days of draft there was no six weeks basic training; this was the responsibility of the Company Commander where the new draftee was assigned. I never had basic engineer training. So some attempt was made to put some soldier polish on us to make us look the part. The first thing was how to fall in, close order drill and other stuff. My close order drill was all of my own — always out of step. After years of loping across Montana hills I found my step to be 36 inches instead of the Army's 30-inch stride. An old Drill Sgt. Pulled me from the ranks and ordered me to do x number of trips around the track and he would be with me. Sergeant, don't lag — I will run you into the ground. I probably was in the best physical shape of my whole life. I learned how to tear down and put together a .45 Colt pistol blindfolded and eventually learned a bit of the Army's protocol but I am afraid I was what was termed a "Sad Sack" Somewhere along the line we were issued rifles to perfect our art in manual arms. The rifle probably was issued after the Spanish American War. It was bolt action, .30 cal., but a nickel was inserted above the magazine so the bolt would close; my nickel. They didn't even have Springfield rifles to issue.

I didn't even dare leave the barracks to go to the PX in my 1916 blouse, so I complained to the sergeant about this matter and he told me that it had to be worn out before a regular blouse could be issued but he also added a quick way to wear it out by grabbing the sleeves and giving it a good heave-ho so the seams at the shoulders would rip. I got my self hid and wore out that blouse in no time flat. I turned it into the supply and there was no questions asked and I now could to the PX and town on the weekends. I kept the horse blanket pants because Ft. Lewis has the most unhappy weather I have encountered. Fog so thick you couldn't see the guy in front of you on our morning close order drill. Drizzling rain at near freezing temperatures. I was never so cold in my life and I would rather take 20 degrees below anytime in Montana. Community living was old hat — sharing the same pot, wash bowl, shower and squad room; living together had been part of my living as a civilian.

I soon found out that the $21.00 a month was not going to make ends meet but the Army had that all figured out so we could go to the CO and get PX chits. Weekend passes were every week if we didn't dray a duty so I foudn myself drawing a bit on my savings accounts in Butte. I did get to visit my cousin Geraldine Swayze at Seattle and a trip to Mt. Rainier Park.

All good things have an end and one day a bunch of our guys, me included, were being transferred to the 58th Quartermaster a truck repair outfit. The reason, it seems, is that the old army regulars could move into newly formed units, a thing called a rift.

I didn't particularly want to be a truck repair mechanic so one evening when I was on the town, I got to telling my story to First Sgt. Pasanen of A Company of the 10th Engineers. I said I would like to get into a real outfit as I had had my turn at hard work. No more said then done, as I soon found myself in A Company. of the 10th Engineers of the Third Infantry Division, "The Rock of the Marne" which was training to become an Amphibious Division, the one to hit the beaches first.

Fort Ord, California
Summer 1941

The summer of 1941 the Division trucked to the Hunter Liggett Military Reservation on the coast west of Salinas, California. It was a wonderful change from the old wet cold of Ft. Lewis. I slept and lived under an oak tree with the scorpions and the rattlesnakes for a month to six weeks. Then it was back to Ft. Lewis, where Major Earnhart and Captain Koberstein talked me into going to Ft. Belvoir, Virginia to take a course in Map Reproduction and Photography, a month to six-week course: school five days a week and a weekend pass. I believe I was a PFC and getting $36.00 per month.

I had buddied up with a tall Texan called Tex, and we took in all the National Goodies Washington DC had to offer. We were all living high on very little money. Washington offered a lot in those days for the soldier without much money. For one thing a camp at Arlington, for food, and a bed, free almost. It was good duty. We also met a couple of gals, good gals, who showed us places in the DC area we would have never found.

Back to Ft. Lewis and it was now December and the cold and wet. December 7th and all hell broke loose. The Japs were coming, the Division and the troops in the Fort moved out to the beaches or the roads, whatever they though the Japs would invade.

The 10th Engineers were living in those big three story brick permanent buildings at Ft. Lewis which was of course an old fort; each building housed a company. That night my company was gone except for an old Sgt. Major who had seen action during WWI and me. The Sgt. Major had hash marks on his sleeve to his shoulder. He must have been at least 60 years old. We took up quarters in the basement by the telephone. The rifle racks were empty. Ammunition had been issued, and the quiet of the night was interrupted by rifle fire and I believe a burst of machine gun fire. Oh! Do not tread this night alone or you may be taken for one with slant eyes. What a scary night alone in this huge cavernous building except for the old Sergeant.

We were at War. There was no more you have served your year and you can go back to pursuing your old lifestyle. Those dry runs from those landing boats began to take on serious meaning. We took a beating at Pearl Harbor, and this old sleeping giant of a country was aroused and putting all effort into making a modern war machine that could slow and stop the two maniacal nations that were making slaves of or eliminating the people of countries within their reach. Pearl Harbor began to make us mean, mean enough to kill but we needed time. For me that meant the duration of the war.

I had served my year and I had some leave time coming so I boarded the Old Grey Dog and went to Kennewick, Washington to see my mother's relatives whom I had never seen. I don't remember much about the visit except I got to see Henry Smith's great wheat farm on the House Heaven Country. I also remember Uncle Henry and Aunt Alta Liebel and I think Grandma Barris was still living.

One day I was called to Capt. Koberstein's office and I was offered a chance to become an Engineering Second Lt. by attending OCS at Ft Belvoir, VA. I had my qualms as I never believed I was a leader of men; I would rather map geology in some old wet drift. Well I found myself on a train headed east and then in the strange world of making combat officers out of men that a few months before never dreamed of such a role. Well, the last week rolled by and I had just run out of steam and the will to move at that pace. I was called before a Captain and told my leadership was lacking. I was sick as I shall explain later. I was put on a train headed back to Ft. Lewis to my old 3rd Division. I did get a permanent Corporal rating for my trouble and shipped back to Fort Ord. This must have been in May or June of 1942. Back on the train headed south to Ft. Ord and back to Headquarters Company of the 10th Engineers.I took a three-day pass and went up to Oakland to see my sister Ruth. I took the bus back to Salinas and I sat by a girl that made room for me and her violin. We became acquainted and she had been up in northern California playing solos for a close girl friend's wedding. She lived with her mother in San Jose. I believe it was the next week we had our first date and another the following weekend. Her name was Marjory Currell.

In the meantime I was told I had a job at 3rd Division Headquarters in the map section. I appeared down there for several days but didn't feel well. On the second or third day the Major told me to report to the hospital. My eyes were yellow, my skin was yellow, and my pee was orange. I was sick. After five weeks of a big gamma globulin shot every day, no fat or oils in the food, and lots of sugar candy, they turned me loose to go back to the company. This poor old sad sack had lost his place at the Division. While I was at the hospital my Sister Ruth came down and visited. I wasn't quite ready for the last rites. Marjory also came down to see me.

I later learned why a couple thousand of us guys came down with yellow jaundice was the pill rollers had taken blood form some guy that had had it in the past and used it for a medium for our yellow fever shots. I guess it kept the Division from going to the South Pacific, which was later hailed by the guys as a good,

I had just got out of the hospital at Fort Ord with yellow jaundice. This was about June 1942. The stay was five weeks. Apparently somebody had this bug, donated blood and this got mixed up with serum for yellow fever shots. I may be wrong on this but a couple of thousand men in the division were yellow and could hardly pour pee out of boot.

Heading East and Shipping Out
Fall 1942

Restrictions about taking off to Salinas without a pass were pretty lax, so one Saturday I take off and go to Salinas where I meet the First Sgt. of A Company, the one who ably got me into the 10th Engineers. We both got a cheap room and a can of beer that we opened to sober up the next morning. Very early in the morning we awoke had a feeling something was up When I arrived at the company area, I was met by a big pile of barracks bags in the middle of the street and the HQ First Sgt Davis .asking where I was.

If I remember, by that evening we were on a troop train for Camp Pickett, Virginia For being a bad corporal I was assigned KP on the train going thru West Virginia. Earlier on the trip I remember seeing the pretty red rocks in the Gallup area of New Mexico. Later in life, I have seen these red rocks many times and I remember this train trip. I shall not forget the KP on these curves with your head bent down in a wash tub cleaning pots and pans. I also shall not forget looking up thru the boxcar door and seeing these pretty West Virginia girls with thin dresses and no shoes, waving like mad. A thought for future reference.

Camp Pickett was a staging area for only a few to know where. A three day pass to New York City was obtained. I was lost going and coming, what a huge anthill!

I also got a pass to Washington DC and saw an old girl friend of Ft. Belvoir days. She was or had married a Marine; well that problem was settled.

I was one of the chosen few in the company to travel to Newport News to board the old Ft. Leonard troopship. She was a luxury liner of pre-World War I days confiscated as a troop ship of that War.

This old country boy from Montana never saw such a ship or the port with the dirty water and the floating things that once belonged to man.

Everybody had a bed assigned to them even though it was a piece of canvas about 16 inches wide and six feet long with brass eyelets around the laced to steel poles and posts, the beds about 16 inches apart and stacked six or eight high, row on row. I had the elite hold called E Deck Forward. It was the bottom hold. The floor was large dimension planks and the bilge slopped on the bottom of the floor and the sides of the ship. The forward end of the hold was the steel plates bolted together to form the V of the bow. An open space was provided for a walk about. Your pack, ammo belt and rifle were hung on the horizontal stanchion of your bunk. These items of course were your sole possessions. They issued you a life preserver, the belt kind with the small gas bottle for inflation and of course a helmet. Your barracks bag was in a truck somewhere. To get to your bunk you had to fight through numerous of the above to lie on your back for a bit of shut eye. If you were big you slept on your back, but small guys could manage sleeping on their side if they didn't have a big guy above them. The sag and the space between them determined the position of the dormant.

They took all our American money and exchanged it for invasion money. I had about $17 if I remember right.

When all was loaded the many ships headed for the open sea. I was about to use boats for the above but we would have never made it according to our sailor friends.

Well the accommodations aren't the best but the most of us are glad to be going someplace to fight the Germans who have been having the upper hand. Many of us have been in the states for almost two years while the war was going around us, so lets get things over


Invasion Force 

A small part of the invasion force assembled in Virginia.


In the walk about area a large wooden crate with a number of smaller ones appeared and somebody provided a blanket and a deck of cards or two. With time on my hands and $17, I try my hand with the simple game of black jack that was in progress. I win and build up a pretty good reserve. Making money wasn't such a bad pastime.

There are lines formed to eat, to pee, to poop, to wash and brush your teeth, but considering the number of troops on this ship these necessities were not the problem one would surmise. If I remember food was not great nor was it bad. White coat servers put the food in the middle of the plate with the fruit cocktail on top. It got mixed up as it was eatenÑso no problems.

We were on our way.

The "greatest armada in military history" was sent across the submarine infested Atlantic to help our Allies and miraculously went unharmed.

This was the last of October and the first of November so weather became nasty as the Convoy bore north into Arctic water of Iceland and the North Sea. A rough storm with high winds was encountered. The waves washed the deck of this big ship and the bow my home on E deck rose and fell, I swear 30 feet. The big waves banged on the steel ship sides. The ship groaned and it was almost impossible to move about. Several times the big ship rode over huge waves and the propellers would free themselves from the ocean. The whole ship would vibrate as the propellers raced when they had been released from the water. I did go topside and I never thought the ocean could be so angry. The destroyers were darting back and forth to keep the big ships up and in line. Not only the weather, the destroyers had to contend with the German subs and times I saw them drop depth charges to ward whatever away.

The chow lines became smaller as the guys suffered sea sickness or just the difficulty of trying to stand and walk. We hunkered down. The port holes were closed and ventilation became poor. The troop holds began to be fetid and a bit hard to take. Most of us had had no bath since port.

This did not stop the black jack game with the guys that weren't sea sick. I continued to win and I found out the dealer has the advantage and became the winner. That's why it is such a popular game with the casinos.

We finally picked up our American Convoy from Britain and headed south for better seas and warmer weather.

 



Howard B. Nickelson |  Introduction |  Drafted |  Operation Torch.
Conversation Part 1 |  Sicily |  Conversation Part 2 |  Anzio
Breakout |  France |  Germany |  Austria

Memoir appears by permission
of Howard B. Nickelson
August, 2006.
All rights reserved.