Posted by
Jim on Monday, November 10, 2008 7:20:34 PM
In honor of all those who have and still serve in our nation's armed forces...
Today, on Veteran's Day, I want to commemorate my uncle Bill who turns 89 at the end of this month. For those of you who aren't acquainted with the story, my uncle was a charter member of the 509th Parachute Infantry Battalion in World War II.
Initially a sergeant (an instructor) with D Company, 30th Tng. Bn at Ft. Croft, South Carolina, late in 1941, he volunteered to try out for a newly-forming unit -- something which had something to do with "jumping out of planes". It may seem strange in retrospect, as today we all take paratroopers for granted, having grown up with films of these soldiers who drop into combat from the skies. However, in 1941, there were no such units in the United States military, and no one was quite sure that the concept would even work. As my uncle later recounted to me, he and his fellow troopers were guinea pigs.
Giving up his sergeant's stripes to try-out for the experimental paratrooper unit, my uncle began attending parachute school with the newly-activated paratroopers at Ft. Benning, Georgia in November 1941 (just weeks before Pearl Harbor). The unit's qualifying jumps were made the last week of January 1942, and my uncle received his jump wings at graduation (along with the rest of his battalion) on February 7th.
The batallion (initially designated as the 2nd Battalion, 503rd Parachute Infantry Regiment) continued with combat firing exercises at Ft. Benning, before moving on to Ft. Bragg (South Carolina) the end of March.
According to We Jumped To Fight (a subsequent book by the unit CO's Maj. Edson Raff):
"On and on went our training. Night and day, the battalion pumped on, or hiked through the Overhills area. The keeness of the men was apparent. When I told them that we were going places some day, that our battalion would do any and all jobs, fighting either the Japs, the Germans, or both, if I had to volunteer to do it, they cheered. I knew they could fight, but one thing I instilled in them. They must be more than mere jumpers. They were ground fighters -- troopers with parachutes, who must view the trip to battle as nothing more than a truck ride. They gloried not solely in jumping, but in being able to move fast and stealthily after hitting the ground."
While at Ft. Bragg, my uncle's unit conducted a demonstration exercise for Army Chief-of-Staff, General George C. Marshall and visiting British Field Marshal, Sir John Dill. Then, in late May, when the War Department asked CO of 503rd PIR to select his "best battalion" for immediate redeployment overseas, my uncle's unit was selected.
Boarding the Queen Elizabeth in New York City on June 4th, 1942, my uncle's unit were the first American paratroopers deployed to the European theatre in World War II. Six days later, they arrived in Scotland -- the first U.S. infantry to arrive in Britain. (They would remain the only American forces in Britian through the beginning of August.)
For the next several weeks, the troopers camped at near Hungerford (in Berkshire), training at the British obstacle course at Chilton Foliat. When speaking to me about his service (in March 2007), he casually recounted a few rowdy antics during his time in England. During this period of training, he also eventually made sergeant again with the paratroopers, but was busted back down to corporal for fighting with another sergeant with whom he had frequent "disagreements".
The end of July 1942, the unit redeployed to Mortehoe, in Devon (which included a 13 hour, 35 mile march from the train station at Taunton), where they (once again) commensed with combat firing exercises. My uncle remembers how his unit broke the time record for going through the British commando assault course at Woolacombe (twice in one day -- on July 30th), and chuckled at the memory.
In August, the unit began preparation (both day and night jumps) for their upcoming, combat deployment. On August 29th, the unit participated in an exhibition jump in Northern Ireland (for celebrities -- including Al Jolson and Merle Oberon) -- a jump which still, to this day, holds the record as being the lowest altitude mass parachute jump ever executed: 150 feet. (My uncle remembers that jump: "You no sooner left the plane, and you were on the ground. Boom!!")
On November 7th, the unit flew into history as they boarded their C47's in Cornwall for the 8-hour, night flight to North Africa for Operation Torch -- the longest combat parachute deployment of WWII: 1600 miles (and the first American paratroopers to drop into combat).
My uncle's plane was shot down and landed in Algeria, where the 509th engaged enemy forces at Tafaraqui, then subsequently (throughout November and December 1942) at Tebessa and Youks Les Bains Airfields, Gafasa, El Guettar, Sbietla, and Faid Pass (where the 509th became the first American ground units to engage German troops).
Leaving Africa, the 509th next participated in the invasion of Italy: Operation Avalanche. On Sept. 15, 1943, the battalion was night-dropped behind enemy lines at Avellino -- where, for two weeks, the 509th disrupted the German rear, forcing the Germans to keep units on anti-parachute missions which otherwise would've been sent to repel the American forces landing at the beachhead at Salerno. Small groups of troopers ambushed enemy patrols, shot up convoys, attacked outposts, mined roads, blew up bridges and cut telephone lines, knocking out German communications.
Recalling his "night jump behind enemy lines", my uncle mentioned how he'd landed on rocks, hurting his leg. Initially alone for two or three days, he avoided German patrols until he eventually met up with others from his unit, then joined them in creating havoc for the Germans -- and they for him (twice during this period, he'd had his gun shot out from his hands by a German sniper).
Last March (2007), I asked him what it was like being alone those few days, and he said that Italian people would give him food -- raw eggs and some canned stuff (American rations which they had somehow acquired). He said he'd avoided the Germans by going up the mountain, as the Germans were down in the valley (in town). When linked with his men, they did recon work and reported back on enemy troop numbers at various locations, sniped German patrols, blew up bridges, etc.
In November of 1943, the 509th (along with the 1st Ranger Battalion) was trucked to Venafro, where (on the slopes of Mount Croce) they faced an unrelenting barrage of enemy artillery fire for the better part of the next thirty-four days. In recounting this to me last year, my uncle told how a shell hit near his foxhole, dazing him. I asked if he had been sent to the hospital, and he said that he hadn't. His buddy grabbed him and he was alright -- but had lost his memory for two days.
When my uncle's company (E Company) was relieved and sent to Naples on December 14th, only 43 men and 3 officers remained. Two days later, the battalion was reinforced and restructured (redesignating the companies: D to A, E to B, and F to C), in preparation for the impending Operation Shingle (the amphibious assault on Anzio).
Early on the morning of January 22, 1944, the 509th once again made history, landing amphibiously at Anzio, where they quickly secured the beach before heading inland toward their objective -- the town of Nettuno (which was taken later that afternoon). Over the next few days, the 509th continued to press further inland, eventually advancing to the road junction near Padiglione, where further hostilies ensued. On January 30th, B company lead an attack against the 104th Panzergrenadier Regt. near Carano, reaching the hill (east of Carano Creek) within an hour.
The next four weeks saw continued fighting in the sector, including actions taken while on patrol near Carano (for which Cpl. Paul B. Huff was later awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor). Then on February 29th, 3 German divisions (of the LXXVI Panzer Corps) attacked across the US 3rd Inf Div front. The heavist attacks (from the west of Cisterna) were directed against the paratroopers of the 509th, who was assigned a critical defensive position near the town of Carano, which they held despite heavy losses.
(As I related in a previous post) my uncle's company (B Company) was defending a low hill a mile northeast of Carano when it was struck shortly before dawn by waves of the 1028th Panzier Grenadier Regt advancing under the cover of a smokescreen. For the next eleven hours, B Company repulsed the attack, hand-to-hand, outnumbered 3-to-1, while simultaneously receiving friendly mortar fire on their own position -- which Corps Artillery had assumed (incorrectly) to have been overrun.
Later that evening, the survivors of B Company were ordered to withdraw, but only a single officer and twenty-two of his men returned from Carano -- for which the 509th was subsequently honored as the first American parachute unit to be awarded a Presidential Unit Citation.
Shortly after Anzio, my uncle was rotated home.
When I asked my uncle (last March) if he wanted to say anything at all about his service or his unit, he only replied that they were all "men" in his unit, and how he was "proud" to have served with them.
However, the most telling thing my uncle's ever said to me about his wartime experiences has nothing to do with the men with whom he served, nor the battles they fought (most of which, he's mercifully blocked out of his memory), but in his remarks about how he never watches anything about the war on television -- documentaries, movies -- nothing. If he accidentally happens to flip onto something, he told me he immediately turns it off.
On behalf of all of us who live in freedom today because of what veterans (like my uncle, and so many others) have done (and are doing) , I want to express my sincerest gratitude and respect.
We can never thank you enough.