VARSITY CONTINUED

Soldier Boy- Soisson-le-Petite camp March 1945 The leather jacket was not standard army issue but was an airforce flight jacket that I as an officer was issued when I joined the division. Shortly thereafter no more were issued to infantry officers.
To recapitulate after landing. Koller had started the jeep as soon as we came to a stop. The jeep was attached by rope to the nose release and as soon as it moved forward the nose lifted up and we were able to drive out. The pilots were out of sight. If they had been in the cockpit they would have been lifted up with the nose segment.

We drove the Jeep out of the glider over to the other glider with the trailer. The nose of that glider was resting in the plowed field and we had difficultly lifting the nose to pull the out trailer. While we were occupied, a German soldier came out of the woods dangling aluminum anti-radar foil from upraised hands.

I could not be sure that he wished to surrender. I told my men to scatter. To my dying day I will be convinced that they all seven "scattered" in a straight line behind me. Probably the only time that they thought that the Captain would protect them. However, the German was a youngster who was overwhelmed by the airborne assaults and had had enough of the war.

We had no idea where we were. Nothing resembled what I had studied on the aerial photo maps. I showed the German where we wanted to be. He pointed out where we were; on the wrong side of the canal. He agreed to lead us to the canal and to a crossing near the farmhouse. Being lazy, I “permitted” him to carry my heavy medical bag and field pack. With my “prisoner" as guide we took off in file, the jeep towing the trailer, supposedly in the direction of the Issel canal.

We reached what look like an overgrown brook and followed a dirt road on the bank for a short distance. Suddenly, we noticed American soldiers lying prone sheltered by the brook’s near bank. It was our A Company whose Captain yelled out “Doc get down. We are in the midst of a fire fight”.

However, we had heard no shots, so we went down the bank, waded across the ankle high "canal" and up the other side while Koller drove the Jeep and trailer over a little bridge. We soon reached our destination, a farmhouse that had been designated for use as our aid station. Irby was already there with the other half of the aid station.

Even though it was spring, the large fields surrounding the farmhouse were filled with haystacks. For several days, we kept unexpectedly flushing out German soldiers who had hidden in those haystacks. They were hungry, scared, but happy to be alive, and wanted to surrender. A few had even hidden in the farmhouse attic which supposedly we had searched upon occupying the house.

One day one of our men went to the attic with a comrade. He saw a German soldier's hat behind a trunk and thought he would scare his friend. He yelled "Achtung"; to his amazement, the hat began to rise and there was a German ready to give up. Needless to say, that for all of us, each episode was a shock and surprise.

In the afternoon of day one, there was an air re-supply mission. The planes were Liberators. They flew very low just above the tree tops. Unfettered, the crew pushed the supplies out of an opened door. As they flew over, unfortunately, one of the men fell out of his plane. Our re-supply included British plasma as well as dehydrated British tea with milk. We did not like the tea, and did not have the equipment to use their plasma. One cannot help but admire the men who flew such a hazardous mission.

Five or six days later, a British Commando unit relieved us. We had not touched the chickens that were running around but it took them about five minutes to “police (cleanup) the yard”. We mutually agreed to celebrate our Anglo-American unity with a drink. Their captain refused our offer of our medicinal Old Grand Dad bourbon. Instead, he insisted on their “Teachers” Scotch. “The real stuff that you Yanks don’t get in the States”. All we could find in the house were water glasses. My colleague, Irby, suggested that I do the honors while he remained sober.

After repeated toasts with refilled glasses, I felt no pain. That was my second and last “bombed” episode in Europe. Unfortunately, I had to ride in the Jeep cross-country to where the regiment was repositioning to attack across Westphalia.

Another view of a glider at Wessel, all istruments had been stripped for reuse.


Not a good landing

This is the waterway we were to capture and secure the bridges over it. The road on the left bank is where we traveled to reach A company's position. We were lucky!
The barn complex of the farm which was our aid station.
This was a C46