103rd Cactus Division

 JOHN R. ‘JACK’ DURRANCE      

 (Authored by Jack Durrance)  

 

On March 22, 1945 we left the trenches and began moving to our left.  After going

down the hill we were on and getting almost to the top of another, we started getting

our machine gun in position to give fire support for our riflemen.  Although all three of

us held the same Staff Sergeant rank, there had only been replacements enough for

two squads made up of the replacements and survivors.  Jeff Jennings and I were now

serving as squad leaders over seven men each instead of the usual fourteen. 

Doug Merrill was serving as our section sergeant.  As I sat down and turned back to watch

Al Sodman get our gun ready, a mortar round exploded in back of me.  Three of us,

Doug Merrill, Al Sodman and I, were wounded by this same mortar round.  Shrapnel tore

through three layers of clothing on the right side of my back, and exited the left side.  It felt

like a giant hand had tugged me by my field jacket.  My wounds were not great, however,

 compared to those received by Doug and Al.  They suffered the greatest wounds by far. 

Along with many other shrapnel cuts Doug’s leg and Al’s wrist and hand were badly hurt. 

We all started down the hill to the aid station, but neither Doug nor Al was able to walk. 

I went on and stretcher bearers came up the hill to carry them back.  I was taken to the rear

in an ambulance.  One of the occupants was a wounded German soldier who had been

hit six times previously. 

   

Jack also wrote a book called, ‘My Little Corner of the War’. 

It’s a collection of his experiences in the Army and in battle during WWII.

 

Purple Heart #1 (In the words of Jack Durrance)

 

Al Sodman was firing our machine-gun and targeting a German pillbox in the Seigfried Line

area in December 1944.  Al was giving covering fire for a rifleman who was attempting to

attach an explosive device, we called a "beehive", to a German pillbox.  This was what we 

used in WWII.  In the middle of all this, Al asked me to give him a short break while he went to

the bathroom.  For my part, Nature's call was most untimely, but Al was convincing. 

I somewhat reluctantly took over the gun.  I no sooner began firing than a piece of shrapnel 

caught me in my right shoulder. 

Although this wound was recorded to have happened on December 22nd, it actually                   was on my twenty first birthday, December 20^th, 1944.   A Birthday party like this is not one

to be forgotten!  I spent a cold miserable night in my foxhole afraid to peek at my wound,

but in the absence of very much bleeding, and after some careful thought, I  decided it was 

safer to wait with my light shoulder wound for a couple of days rather than risk the 

German sniper fire that was between me and the aid station.