SAGA OF THE 17TH AIRBORNE

 I received a letter from an author in Utah who had become interested in the 17th Airborne Division. He  felt that it had not received the recognition it deserved  and intended to publish some articles in military journals. He had  obtained my name  from an old publication by the veterans of that Division. That started a search.

 

In the early 2000s I had written at the request of my kids a history of my WWII experiences. There may be a copy of ‘Old Doc’s War in the Library. There are somewhere in my computer files  the original documents for the history. Some I have posted before correcting erroneous names. Over the next few days I will post short segments on \the BATTLE OF THE BULGE. The original blog posting was in 2008.

“We were still in England at the onset of the Bulge. I had been planning for a week's leave and was going to go to Wales.  Instead, on Dec. 24.1944 our division was airlifted to France.  This was the first time an operation on such a large scale had been attempted. Each one of our two battalion medical jeeps with trailer were to be loaded into a C.47. I and three enlisted men would fly in one plane. There was a ramp placed up to the side cargo door of the plane. The driver had to manipulate the jeep and loaded trailer up the ramp, maneuver a 90degree left turn, and ending with the jeep just behind the pilot’s seats. There was no room on either side to stand and the end of the trailer was just in front of the door. I, the driver, and two aid men were to ride sitting in the jeep. After we got the vehicles loaded the tail wheel was touching the fuselage. The pilot said we had to lighten the load. I had three bottles of Portuguese cognac in my bed roll which I had no intentions of losing. 

 After we threw out several cases of C rations and finally had enough clearance that the wheel was not touching the plane; the pilot and co-pilot said they would take off if we would, on his command, manually trim the plane. As we start down the runway we stood right behind them in the cockpit. As soon as the plane lifted off we scrambled over the jeep and trailer to the rear of the cargo compartment. We just did clear the trees at the end of the runway.

Our ambulance along with the rest of the division vehicles moved overland in convoy, crossing the channel by ferry. They reached us no more than 24 hours after we were on the continent.

The flight to France was uneventful. After unloading under pressure from nervous flight crews to hurry up, we moved, loaded in big open trailer (cattle) trucks, to a position near Sedan along the Meuse River. 

Twenty four hours after leaving England, we were in combat. The division and its regiments were in army reserve, guarding the river crossings.  “A Company” was sent several miles up the river to another town to protect a bridge. I also moved up there with a few aid men for a small aid station.   

We chose a house in the village in the middle of a group of houses, side walls almost touching. Although "Bed Check Charlie" flew over every night we felt secure when we were in this town. I celebrated New Year's Eve with some of the company’s officers by opening one of my bottles of brandy. (continued)