103rd Cactus Division

 HERBERT ALAN MORGAN

INDUCTED INTO ARMY ON MARCH 10, 1944.

 

BASIC TRAINING AT CAMP BLANDING, FLORIDA.

 

JOINED COMPANY D, 409TH REGIMENT, 103RD INFANTRY DIVISION AT CAMP HOWZE, TEXAS,

 

AUGUST 15, 1944. SERVED IN

ALEXANDER PATCH’S 7^TH ARMY

 

AS AMMUNITION BEARER AND

MACHINE GUNNER IN FRANCE AND

GERMANY.

 

WOUNDED AT SEIGFRIED LINE

 ON 12-21-44 IN GERMANY.

HOMETOWN:  CAYUGA, INDIANA

 MORGAN’S WWII STORIES

Authored by Herbert A. Morgan in March, 2007

 

PROLOGUE

I was born on September 30, 1925 on a farm about 5 miles west of Rossville, Illinois.  I was the third 

of eight children and the oldest son.  I grew up on the farm and graduated from High School in 1942 

at the age of sixteen.  When I was twelve we moved just across the state line into Indiana.  At the age of 

eighteen I registered for the draft and was inducted into the Army on March 10, 1944 at 

Ft. Benjamin Harrison in Indianapolis, Indiana.  I was sent from there to Camp Blanding, Florida where 

I underwent 17 weeks of Army Infantry Training.  Upon completion of training we were given ten day 

furloughs and I then reported to Camp Howze, Texas where I was assigned to Company D, 

409^th Infantry Regiment, 103d Division.  D Company was comprised of two platoons of 

Heavy (water-cooled) Machine Gunners and a 3rd platoon of Heavy (81MM) Mortar men. 

 I was assigned to the 2^nd Platoon of Machine Gunners.  I arrived there about the middle of August 

and the division was in the process of getting ready to go overseas at that time.  We left Camp Howze 

about a month later by troop train and I believe we were two days en route when we 

arrived at Camp Shanks, New York.

 

K.P. DUTY - DELUXE

I guess one of the first things that I might mention was the experience of serving K.P. while in 

Camp Shanks, N.Y.  We were in Camp Shanks for about a week or ten days before we shipped 

out to go over seas.  Our group of about seventeen went on duty at about 6:00 P.M.  Their mess hall 

had quite a busy schedule.  They started serving breakfast at 5:00AM and would serve until about 9:00.  

Then at eleven they would start serving lunch and serve until two o’clock.  At five, they would begin 

serving dinner and serve until about 8:00PM.  If I remember correctly, they said they served around 

15,000 every day.  Of course our first duty was to cleanup tables, as they needed it, to see that tea 

and coffee were available and many other minor duties while the troops were being served.  As soon as the 

evening meal was finished, we immediately started cleaning the tables, mopping the floors and doing a 

general cleanup of the mess hall.  We finished this at about midnight and asked the officer in charge when 

we were permitted to leave.  He said, “I have one more little detail for you to do and then you can go back 

to your barracks.”  He proceeded to take us back to a warehouse room and showed us a whole 

bunch of 100-pound sack of potatoes.  We asked him how many of them we were to do.  He said, 

“All of them!”  Of course, we immediately started counting the 50 bags.  He said he wanted them peeled, 

quartered and put in these large stainless steel containers.  We looked at him, in disbelief.  He explained that 

there were two potato peelers. Put about a half a sack in each one, run in the water and let them run for 

about 10 minutes. Then run water out, run in rinse water and when that is done, quarter them up in the large 

containers as I told you.  Needless to say, it took us about 30 minutes to really get organized and after that 

it was a steady grind.  Two or three times during the early morning hours we were reminded by a tap on the head, 

with a stick, to wake up and get with it.  At 5:30AM, we finally finished and were permitted to leave just in 

time to wash up and eat our breakfast.  Needless to say, that was the toughest tour of K.P. that I ever put in, 

a solid twelve hours without a break.

SEEING THE SIGHTS

My good memories of New York were the opportunity to go up to the 88^th floor of the 

Empire State Building, going to West Point to see a football game.  What a beautiful setting they have 

for their campus which borders the Hudson River.  Lastly, but not least, was shipping out past the 

Statue of Liberty as we headed for Europe and the unknowns that lay ahead.

 

STRENGTH IN NUMBERS (AT SEA)

Our journey across the Atlantic was quite an experience.  We were about as crowded on that 

troop ship (The U.S.S. Monticello) as cattle, loaded on trucks to go to the market.  When we were 

about a week out, we ran into a terrible storm, which I believe was a hurricane and we were in this 

for three days.  Nearly everyone got sick and how our convoy survived the storm without casualties, 

I’ll never know.  I believe there were about 16 vessels altogether.  These included ten troop and 

cargo carriers, four destroyers, a Sub chaser, an aircraft carrier and I’m not sure what else.  

We had gotten paid just a day or two before we shipped out and no passes were allowed 

after that date, so you can imagine how much gambling went on.  The poker and crap games were 

everywhere.  This lasted for a few days and then only a few were left with any money so it finally wound 

down to about one big game.  On the trip over, I came up with two ring worms; one in my stomach 

and one in my groin.  The medics had nothing to treat them.  I’ll elaborate on that story later.  A few of 

the last of the gamblers started going on sick call and we couldn’t figure out why as they were not sick.  

Come to find out, they had gotten the crabs while sitting around on the floors playing poker.

 

DESTINATION – MARSEILLE

After we got through the storm, the seas became calm and we had good sailing for a change.  In just a 

day or so, we approached the straits of Gibraltar.  What a beautiful sight this was.  The African coast on 

the right, the mountainous background and the Rock of Gibraltar on the left was a sight to behold.  

The water was smooth as glass.  After about a day of sailing up the Mediterranean, the ocean became 

quite rough and remained so nearly all the way up to Marseille.  We arrived there late in the afternoon on 

October 20, 1944 and the port was a sight to behold.  There were sunken ships sticking up out of the 

water all over the harbor.  It was impossible for us to even get close to dockside.  In fact I don’t remember

 just how we did get from ship to dock.  As we unloaded, we were lined up in columns.  I don’t 

remember if two or four deep but we were in full field pack along with our personal weapons.  We had

 been on the ship fifteen days with very little exercise.  They proceeded to march us through the city of 

Marseille and to a staging area about, I would guess, 10 miles outside the city.  I imagine we probably 

marched close to 20 miles. 

STAGING AREA TRAGEDY

You can imagine what a tired bunch of G.I.’s we were when we finally arrived at our destination.  The 

next morning we could see that we were on a flat plateau up above the city and was really quite a view 

looking out over the sea.  The Germans had erected all kinds of barriers over this area, I guess 

to prevent an invasion from the air and also to prevent the use of gliders in the case of an 

airborne invasion.  We were instructed to line up our Pup Tents in straight lines and in Company 

groups.  In trying to do this, we ran into the problem of guy wires running from a lot of large poles 

that had been erected in this area.  These poles reached about 40 or 50 feet into the air.  One of the 

pup tents, if lined up like the Sgt. had ordered, would be right on top of one of the guy wires.  

The boys tried to explain to the Sgt. that they couldn’t put their tent where he had instructed 

on this account.  He let out an oath and said he didn’t give a damn about that so and so wire, 

“You put that tent where I told you to.”  Needless to say, you know what happened.  They cut 

the guy wire to get it out of the way.  Well, about two nights later, we had a terrible storm and 

the wind blew from the direction of the cut guy wire and that large pole came falling down; 

right in the middle of our Company tents.  One fellow was killed as a result of a broken tent pole and 

another received a broken leg.  We were just lucky that no one else was hurt.  This was the first 

casualty we suffered.  A day or so later, another GI was injured when digging around in a 

rock pile the Germans had erected.  It had been booby-trapped.

 

Now for the conclusion of the story of contracting ringworm on ship; when we made that march 

from ship to staging area, we were in our winter woolen clothing.  You can imagine what that 

ringworm looked like at the end of that march.  It was like a raw piece of meat.  I talked to the 

medic and he said, “I’m sorry but I don’t have a thing to treat it with.”  I asked him if he had 

any iodine.  He said, Yes, I have some iodine swabs, but that will set you on fire.”  I told him that 

I would worry about that cause I had to try something to get rid of that ringworm.  Well, it did 

set me on fire, but after about 3 good treatments, the ringworm cleared up.

EVIDENCE OF WAR

After about a week in this staging area, we were loaded in trucks and proceeded to travel 

up through France to the battlefront.  We saw a lot of evidence along the way of the 

battles that had been fought before us.  At Dijon the highway bridges had been blown up 

and our trucks were driven across the railroad bridge which was still intact.  That was quite 

an experience straddling the tracks and bumping along on the railroad ties.  Just outside of Dijon 

we saw a complete German armored column that had been destroyed from the air.  It must have 

been quite a battle because there were tanks, trucks, artillery pieces, and all kinds of vehicles 

destroyed along the highway for a space of about 2 miles.  Naturally there was a lot of 

cheering as we passed by all this army of destroyed German armor and other equipment not to 

mention probably how many German casualties were suffered in this battle.

AT THE FRONT

We arrived at our destination a day or so later, which turned out to be Docelles, France.  

We arrived there about the middle of the evening.  We were about to find out that this had 

been a hotbed of action.  A river ran through the town and the bridge had been blown up so 

we had to cross on a swinging foot bridge put up by the engineers.  The bridge was about 

3 feet wide held up by two steel cables.  It was floored with 6” boards and had another cable 

stretched about 3 feet above the bridge for us to hold onto.  The river was in flood stage 

and it was windy also. You can imagine us trying to walk across that swinging bridge in full field 

pack and a gun on our shoulder and looking down at the raging waters just below.  It was 

a scary time to say the least.  As we traveled afoot, we soon started meeting GIs from the 

3d Division heading the other way.  As it turned out, they were the ones we were relieving.  

They looked like they were glad to see us and, of course, we were just beginning to 

realize what was taking place.  Now, I must insert another story that I’ll never forget.  We had 

a fellow in our company who was called ‘8-ball’ O’Malley.  I never knew what his first name 

really was.  He had rightly earned the name of ‘8-ball’ though.  He said he’d never go overseas.  

While we were in Camp Shanks, he purposely picked a fight with one of the officers and 

proceeded to hit him in the face with his fist, thinking he would be court-martialed and 

put in the brig.  Well he was court-martialed all right, but was put aboard ship and sent 

overseas anyway.  So to make a long story short, when we arrived at Docelles and he saw 

we were going to the front lines, he went over to the side of the road and laid down in a ditch.  

He swore, “If they want me up there, they’ll have to carry me!” That was the last time I ever 

saw ‘8-ball’ O’Malley.  I have no idea what ever happened to him.

 

We arrived at the front (near Chevry) and was told to make two man fox holes as we would 

be staying in pairs.  There was about 6 inches of snow on the ground and the temperature was 

probably in the 20s.  They had us dig an area about 4’ wide and 2’ deep.  We then covered the 

bottom with pine branches and covered it with a shelter-half and then a blanket.  We proceeded to 

get small pieces of wood, about 3” in diameter and long enough to go across the top, and then 

covered it with the other shelter-half.  We then covered the whole thing with snow and this is 

what we slept in for 2 or 3 nights.  After this exercise was accomplished, we were told of 

a battle that had been fought here just a day or two ago and we were to go out through all the 

timber and gather up all the dead Germans that were still out there.  All of our casualties had 

been recovered, but not the Germans.  They told us to just take anything we could use to 

tie around an arm or leg and drag them, like a sled, to the 6 by 6 US Army trucks that they 

would use to carry them in for burial or however they handled it.  We found 27 dead Germans 

out in that forest where the battle had taken place.  It was not a pleasant job.  We found 

where a lot of our G.I.’s had been and come up with a full box of 10 in 1 rations that had 

not been opened.  We also found a Thompson sub-machine gun that had been abandoned 

by some of the 3d Division troops.  The 103d completed the job of taking St. Die and 

continued on pushing the Germans closer and closer to their homeland.

WASTED HORSEPOWER

As we were continuing our push, we were crossing some beautiful countryside and 

we came across a German horse drawn artillery piece.  I guess they were afraid we might 

use it against them so they had killed two of the most beautiful draft horses that you 

would ever see.  I, being a farm boy, and having driven many a nice team of horses was 

sad to see such a beautiful team of Belgium horses destroyed

like that.  If they had only known that we would have little use for a horse drawn 

artillery piece.  This would have been somewhere around November 23^rd or 24^th.

 

FRENCH DRANO

Also worth mentioning, we had just cleared another small town and as we were walking 

down the street, a Frenchman came out to meet us.  He had a pitcher full of clear liquid and 

poured me a glass. I was always a little cautious about what I drank so I smelled of it and it 

burned the inside of my nose.  I decided that I didn’t need to be drinking any of that and 

passed it along to Sgt. Bill Williams.  After he downed the ingredients, we walked down the street 

about a block when Williams sat down and wiped the sweat from his brow and shook his head.  

He looked at me and said, “Boy that was some kind of potent stuff!”  I had no idea what was in it, 

but learned later that it made pretty good lighter fluid.

 

 

PROBABLY PROVENCHERES OR COLROY LE GRANDE

On another occasion we captured another small town.  This one was in a small valley, 

similar to Steige.  We had pretty well secured the town but kept getting sniper fire from 

somewhere.  It was decided that it was coming from up on the hill just outside of town.  

A group of G.I.’s, myself being one, was selected to take a round-a-bout route up to the 

location where we thought the sniper fire was coming from.  We proceeded on our mission 

and upon arriving at the desired location we discovered a building that was either a small school 

house or a small church and residence close by.  We had to cross an open area to get to 

the buildings so we decided to make a run for it, one at a time.  When the first one tried to 

cross, he was immediately shot and was wounded in the thigh of his leg, which we later 

discovered was broken.  Seeing this wasn’t going to work, we quickly separated out into 

a semi-circle and all made a dash at once.  The Germans, seeing that they were surrounded, 

came out with their hands up.  As it turned out, there were only two of them.  We 

immediately put them under guard and proceeded to get our wounded comrade inside 

the house.  By this time it was getting late in the evening and we radioed down to 

Co. Headquarters to get instruction as to what they wanted us to do.  We told them of our 

one casualty and that he had a broken leg.  We had made him as comfortable as we could 

on a couch in the house and had bandaged up the wound.  He seemed to be doing OK.  

They told us to just remain where we were, take as good of care of the wounded as we 

could and they would send him back in an ambulance the first thing the next morning.  

They also advised us to keep a close eye on our two prisoners.  After about an hour or so, 

when we had gotten settled in, we checked on the wounded soldier.  To our dismay, he’d 

gone into shock and died.  We proceeded to set up our guard duty for the prisoners 

and also to guard for any other emergencies that might come up.  I elected to be lookout 

form the attic of the house, which turned out to be the hay loft.  It had a window which I had 

a pretty good view of the countryside.  Everything was quiet until about 2AM when suddenly, 

we could hear the rumble of a tank coming in our direction.  Everyone was put on alert and 

special care was taken to see to it that the prisoners were kept quiet because we had no 

idea whether it was friend or foe.  As it turned out, it was a German tank.  He came right up 

the street to the front of the house we were in, proceeded to turn around and just sat there.  

We were scared to death to say the least.

 

UDDER RELIEF

He sat there with the motor running for an eternity, it seemed.  Finally, he took off 

back the way he had come.  We all took a sigh of relief.  Evidently he had come back to 

pick up the two Germans that we had captured and when they didn’t show up, he left.  

The rest of the night was uneventful and at least we got some rest if not any sleep.  At the 

break of day, we began to think about something to eat and I had noticed the night before 

that there were two milk cows in the shed that was joined at the back door to the house.  

You went right out the kitchen door into the cow barn shed.  They were good looking cows.  

They looked like a cross between a Holstein and a Guernsey.  Their udders were full of milk. 

 Being the farm boy that I was, I supplied all the boys with all the warm milk they wanted, 

right from the factory, ha!  It sure was good as none of us had any milk to drink for a while. 

 

SLUMBER PARTY – November 24th

The orders we received next were to penetrate enemy lines by going through 

a mountain pass and cutting off a highway that the retreating German Army was using 

to try to escape encirclement.  This highway led through the town of Steige.  The 409^th, 

1^st Battalion began our march over the mountains at approximately 10:00PM.  It was 

drizzling rain, which made it all the more miserable.  We had a couple of G.I.s who were 

pretty fluent in German and they were put at the head of the column in case we ran into 

German resistance.  The 1^st hour of the march was uneventful.  Then, all of a sudden, 

we heard a shot fired and the column halted.  We started again a few minutes later but 

didn’t go very far until we heard a couple more shots fired.  After a halt, which seemed 

like an eternity, we were told to backtrack for a few hundred yards and dig in for the night.  

By this time it was midnight and it was still raining.  It was so dark you couldn’t distinguish 

your buddy in front of you so most of us just got over to the side of the trail somewhere and 

tried to get a spot where we would sort of be out of the wind and rain to get some sleep.  

Joe McCrory was with me and he just laid down on the ground and went to sleep.  

I backed up against a tree on the windward side and out of the rain and went to sleep 

standing up against a tree.  When I awoke, I was rolling down the side of the hill 

and scared to death.  When I got awake enough to realize what had happened, 

I listened to try and determine what was going on.  I could hear McCrory still snoring 

back up the hill a good way from me.  I started crawling back up the hill towards the 

snoring and finally came to Joe, who was still fast asleep.  I started feeling around to 

find the tree where I had been and found my helmet and carbine lying there on the 

ground.  I looked at my wristwatch, which was one that you could see in the dark, and

 it was 4:30 in the morning.  I had slept there standing up, against that tree for 3 or 4 

hours before I collapsed and rolled down the hill.  I think I had gone about 50 yards 

downhill from the tree.  At this time, I was feeling a little hungry and I had a D ration bar 

in my pocket, I pulled it out and began to eat.  All of a sudden I heard a very familiar

 “thump”, which was the sound of a mortar firing when the projectile hit the bottom of the 

mortar tube.  This immediately brought me to attention and I nudged McCrory to wake 

him up.  It was just beginning to get light enough where you could see a little bit.  I had 

no more gotten McCrory awake when here come a couple of our boys marching 

3 German prisoners in front of them.  It seems they had been sleeping next to each 

other about all night.  Jack Durrance elaborates more about this in his memoirs.  

Needless to say, our officers got us on the move as soon as possible and we headed 

on to our objective, Steige.  As I remember, we did not encounter much resistance 

during the day itself. 

 

P.O.W.s . . . . . or NOT

The only incident that I remember taking place during the day was that we had 

two boys (I think Carl Porter was one) who had a bad case of trench foot and 

couldn’t continue the march.  It was decided to leave them behind at a little community 

with just a few houses as there seemed to be no occupants at the time.  We left one other 

able bodied G.I. with them by the name of Philip Yates.  I think he was a Buck Sgt., but not 

one of the most daring, as I recall.  Someone was to come back in a jeep later and pick

 them up.  I can’t remember if they were able to get back the same day, or if it was the 

following day, but whichever it was, when they returned to pick them up they had some 

stories of their own to tell.  After they were left behind, a couple of Germans came 

through where they were and I never did know the exact details, but to make a long 

story short, they were taken prisoner and held for awhile.  Then, I guess, the Germans 

didn’t know what to do with them and turned them loose and went their own way.  

 

SURPRISE ATTACK

We arrived at Steige around 4:30 in the afternoon.  We were elevated above the town

 and pretty well concealed.  We had been very careful on our approach so as not to be 

discovered.  The area was very wooded and the town was down in this nice little valley 

with a stream flowing through the edge.  It was decided that at 5:00PM sharp our 

2 platoons of machine guns would begin firing into the town and the riflemen would 

make their break for it under the cover of machine gun fire.  We could see a lot of

German soldiers milling around on the main street of town and they seemed to be totally 

unaware of our presence.  As it turned out, they had a chow line set up right out in the 

middle of the street and were in the process of eating supper.  You can imagine the 

chaos that broke out at the beginning of our machine gun fire.  The riflemen wasted no 

time in getting down that hill and into town and in just a matter of 30 minutes, we were 

down there with them.  As far as I could tell, we had suffered very few casualties.  

Sgt. Swanson, who was firing one of our .30cal water-cooled machine-guns, had 

suffered a flesh wound.  A German bullet had just missed his head and split the back 

of his shirt about 18 inches.  It was like you had taken a sharp knife point and split it 

down the back of his shirt.  It looked like it had cut the skin about 1/8^th of an inch 

deep the whole distance.  If the bullet had been an inch or so lower, it would probably 

have killed him.  He had us look at it and said it burned like fire.  I don’t think he ever

 left the outfit to have it tended to.  I guess it must have healed on its own, with a little 

treatment from a medic.  The next 3 or 4 hours were quite eventful.  We had about a 

half or three quarters of an hour of quiet.  We were making preparations for the 

night, thinking we were pretty well secured.  We had taken about 150 prisoners and 

they were being held in a large building, something like a town hall, down the street from where 

our squad of machine gunners was going to spend the night.  Our house had a garage attached 

on the left side facing the street and a German ambulance was on the inside.  There was a

 pot of hot rabbit stew on the kitchen table ready to be eaten.  Sgt. Williams had stationed 

McCrory and Andrew Gibson down at the forks of the street with our machine gun as 

protection from that direction.  Just about the time we were beginning to enjoy our 

rabbit stew, all hell began to break loose.  McCrory and Gibson came busting into the

 house and Williams said, “What the Hell are you two doing back here!  I told you to 

man that machine gun!  Get back down there and get that gun!”  McCrory said, 

“If you want that damned gun, go get it yourself!”  As it turned out, a couple of 

Germans had slipped up on them and hurled a couple of hand grenades.  They took 

off like a couple of scalded dogs.  Needless to say, the Germans got the machine gun.  

We found it the next morning on the creek bank but they had seen to it that it would never be used again.  

 

ITCHY TRIGGER FINGERS

Things were really hot in that little town until about 10PM.  People were shooting and 

asking questions later.  We had a couple of people killed that night who we thought may 

have been killed by our own fire.  Cpl Mitchell, a D-Company Runner was one of them.  

The Germans were attacking from both ends of town and slipping down the alleys and 

side streets.  Some of the French residents were trying to get out of town to escape 

the battle and it was difficult to distinguish friend from foe.  A lot of the G.I.s were 

shooting at anything that moved.  We had people in our upstairs watching out the windows 

and they were very effective, so much so that the Germans blew a hole out of the side of 

one of the upstairs rooms.  Jim Kallod was blown out of the house by this blast.  He received a 

concussion and had loss of memory for a few days after that.  I was on guard at the 

garage door where the ambulance was and all of a sudden a face appeared around 

the corner.  It was so dark I couldn’t distinguish who it was, whether it was a 

Frenchman or a German.  John Baumgartner was in our house and could speak German.  

I got him to say something in German to see if we could get a response.  I don’t know what

 he said, but he got “Ya, Ya” for an answer.  Of course I immediately knew it was a 

German.  I was still just an ammunition bearer at the time so my side arm was a Carbine.  

I eased the barrel out through a crack in the garage door, lined the sights up as best I could 

on that German and pulled the trigger.  He let out a little grunt and fell on his face right 

there in the alley.  Immediately, I heard other Germans running back up the alley.  He had 

5 or 6 men with him.  They started firing a machine gun down the alley at random.  I guess

 they thought we might try to come after them.  After a few minutes, things quieted down 

and nothing much happened after that.  Just prior to this, Sgt Williams had been trying to 

set up a gun in the shed across the street from us, but we didn’t know it was him at the time.  

There was a fellow in our house that was from the Rifle Co.  I don’t know why he was 

there; evidently he’d gotten separated from his buddies.  Anyhow, he had come 

down to the garage door where I was and we could see someone across the street in the shed.  He said, 

“I see someone over there in that shed.Why don’t you shoot him?”  I told him that our other 

machine gun squad was in that house and it was probably one of them.  He said, 

“Hell, that’s probably a damn German fixing to blow them to pieces.  Go ahead and shoot him.”  

I told him “No”, I was not going to take a chance on shooting one of my

own buddies.  He said, “Well Hell, I’ll shoot him then”, and proceeded to take aim and fire.  

When he did, the person disappeared in a hurry.  Soon after that, Joe McCrory relieved me of 

my guard post.  It wasn’t long until I heard him shoot and after a brief pause, he shot again, and 

in just a little while again.  I decided I’d better go check to see what was going on and I asked 

him who he was shooting at.  He said just watch that window in that house just across the alley.  

Every minute or two you’ll see someone slip by that window.  What was happening was that the 

window was open and the curtain was being blown back and fourth across the face of the window.  

Every time he saw that curtain move, he’d shoot at it.  The next morning everyone was out 

assessing what had gone on.  The German I had shot was an officer and his gun was 

laying there by him.  It was a sub-machine-gun, cocked and ready to fire.  Why he never shot 

at me, I’ll never know.  But it seemed that he may have been one of the main leaders in the 

counter attack that was staged.  While everyone was telling his story about what happened 

the night before, Sgt. Williams said, “Well I sure had a close call last night.”  He went on to

 tell his story of trying to get a machine gun set up in that side shed and a bullet didn’t miss his 

head but by a hair.  I never did tell him where the bullet came from.  That was one of three or 

four miracles that I saw him come through without a scratch.

 

CREATING THE COLMAR POCKET

After a short rest at Steige, we rejoined our Regiment.  We received new rations and other 

supplies and prepared to head out to our next objective.  We didn’t know it at the time but 

we were headed for Selestat.  We had quite a few smaller towns to clear out on the way, 

but none of these proved to be a real problem.  We came under heavy artillery and 

mortar fire as we proceeded down the highway that led us into the city.  There were grape vineyards 

on each side of the highway and we took cover there until the barrages let up.  Two or three times, 

shells hit so close that the concussion would cause your helmet to come off and dirt would fly 

into our faces.  Edison Swims was on my left and he was trying to dig a hole with his hands and 

trying to pray.  It was obvious to me that this was something he was not accustomed to.  He was 

one of those fellows who wanted you to believe he was tough and afraid of nothing, but when the 

time came, it turned out that he wasn’t half as brave as he would have you to believe.  On the 

afternoon of December 1^st, about 4PM, we arrived at the outskirts of Selestat.  The river 

ran right along the area where we were and a bridge across the river led right into the city itself.  

Our machine gun squad decided to occupy the house right on the North side of the river.  

We were under the impression that no one was to cross the river until the next day.  But at dusk,

 B Company crossed the bridge and occupied several houses on the other side of the river.  

Our 1^st platoon of machine gunners was sent in to support them.  Sometime during the night, 

we heard the rumble of tanks and then a lot of firing for a short time and then all was quiet.  

We didn’t know what had happened until the next morning.  We were then informed about the 

German tanks attacking our troops who’d taken the houses across the river. Also, the

 Germans had blown up the bridge during the night.  I believe there were 17 G.I.s who 

were able to escape and get back across the river.  All others were either killed, seriously 

wounded, or captured.  Our first instructions were to prepare to cross the river and search 

the area to see if we could find any survivors.  Getting across the river was no easy task.  

It was bank-full and we had to try to wade across carrying our weapons above our heads.  

The current was quite swift and it was all we could do to keep our footing, our weapons dry,

 and our heads above water.  With this accomplished, we proceeded to search the houses and 

try to assess just what had taken place.  Jim Price and Doug Merrill were found alive but wounded.  

As I remember, two of our men, Zack Sigler and Vern Swanson, were killed.  I’m not sure if there were others.  

 

SLAPPING A PANZER TANK

After the first reconnaissance it was decided that Sgt. Williams would lead a squad 

on a search up into the town to see what we were facing as far as German resistance 

was concerned.  I happened to get volunteered for that group along with McCrory, 

Griffith, Don Hoy, Dick Lademan and possibly Jack Nicklas.  We cautiously proceeded for about 

3 or 4 blocks without incident.  As we continued on, we heard a tank approaching.  We took cover 

and waited to see what developed.  The panzer approached our location and stopped.  We had a 

bazooka man with us and he was asked to fire a round into the side of the tank, hoping to disable it 

by knocking off the track or damaging some other part of the bogey wheels.  To our dismay, the 

round was either a dud or the loader forgot to remove the firing pin.  Immediately the tank swung

 around and we were forced to make a hasty retreat down the alleys.  It was on this swift retreat

 that a German opened an upstairs window of a house and was fixing to start firing at us when 

Williams spotted him and open fired with his M1.  The German disappeared from the window and

 we were able to make our escape unscathed.  Williams was later awarded the Bronze Star for

 his bravery.  After returning back across the river, our first concern was to try and get our clothes dry.  

This was December and wading rivers was not my favorite thing to be doing.

 

HIDE ‘N SEEK WITH SNIPERS

We remained in the house across the river the rest of the day, but had to be careful not to get in 

front of any of the windows or we would draw sniper fire.  A bullet came through the window and hit 

McCrory on the arm about the area of his elbow.  It tore the coat sleeve half into.  He jerked the coat 

off to inspect the damage to his arm and I couldn’t believe what I saw.  It looked like you had put a 

hot poker on the muscle of his arm and just seared the skin.  He later went to get a bandage put on it and 

I never saw him again until years later.  (I found out they put him in the hospital for about 6 weeks, 

as he was about to have a nervous breakdown.)  About an hour after McCrory was hit, the sniper 

fired again as Edison Swims had gotten a little to close to the window.  Flying glass from the window 

hit him in the hand and severed a blood vessel and we had a time trying to get the bleeding stopped; 

another early casualty of Selestat.  That night, a boy from a Rifle Company and I spent the 

night in the  basement under the house.  It was warmer there and also a couple of milk goats 

were housed in the basement.  The next morning, he and I enjoyed a couple of canteen cupfuls of 

goat’s milk.  We chatted for a while just to get to know one another a little better.  He was married and 

had two little girls about 2 and 4 years of age.  We decided we’d better get out of the basement. 

He said he needed to get back to his outfit, and I wanted to get back upstairs and see what our 

orders were.  He had no more gotten to the top of the basement steps when a sniper fired and 

hit him in the legs.  I eased him back down the steps out of sight of the sniper and he assured 

me he would be OK until I could get a medic to him.  He warned me to be fast and careful or 

the sniper would get me as I tried to leave.  I made it and sent word for them to come and get him.  

I never heard anymore about what happened to him after that.  

 

BEHIND DOOR # ?

After Selestat was under control, we were relieved by another outfit and headed back to

 Dambach-la-Ville from which we had originally come, about 5 or 6 miles. We once again

 had to pass through the grape vineyard.  On the way, one of our fellows stepped on an 

anti-personnel mine and it tore his legs up real bad.  We arrived at our destination without 

further incident and were housed in a large building which looked like it may have been a 

hotel at one time.  A portable shower was set up and we were all able in due time to shower, 

shave, brush our teeth (the first time in a month), and received a complete set of new clothing 

with an extra pair of socks.  I felt like a new person.  Late that evening, about 15 of us were 

staying in this one large room, talking and trying to decide what this building was.  

A Frenchman came in to check on us and we asked him what was behind one of the 

locked doors. The guy just shrugged his shoulders, muttered something and left.  Well, 

you know that curiosity killed the cat.  A couple of the guys said, “Let’s find out what’s in there.”  

They tried pulling the door open but that didn’t work, so they backed off about 3 steps and 

they both hit the door with their shoulders and it popped open.  As it turned out, the door led into a 

large wine closet.  There were 4 or 5 shelves full of what looked like quart bottles of different 

brands of wine, wrapped in straw.  The next morning when we got ready to move out,

 two-thirds of the outfit was feeling no pain.  Some of the drivers even had to be replaced.  

A lot of the officers got a chewing out, but they acted like it was well worth it. Ha!  

 

INTO THE ‘FATHERLAND’

From here we headed out on our next objective, which turned out to be Germany proper

 and the Siegfried Line.  We secured the French border town of Weiler on the 16^th of December, 

I believe.  There was a road sign signifying that we were crossing into Germany.  

Right at the border there was a good sized mountain and our officers elected to ascend this 

side of the mountain instead of following the highway.  As we were slowly making our way up 

the side of the mountain we heard a shot and thought we had encountered the Germans already.  

There was no further firing and we continued on as we did not know what had taken place.  

Shortly though here came a Rifle Company officer hobbling down the side of the mountain 

using a rifle as a crutch.  He had accidentally shot himself through the foot with his 38 caliber 

sub-machine gun.  This was rather ironic as this same type of thing had happened 

3 or 4 times with some of the G.I.s and the officers had, in a round-about way, accused 

them of doing it on purpose.  They had put the word out that if it happened again, 

they would be court martialed.  Well, after this incident, we never heard anything more 

about anyone being court martialed. 

 

AS LUCK WOULD HAVE IT

We continued on up the mountain and we came to what looked like a logging road.  

After proceeding down it for some distance it was decided we would stop and 

dig in for the night.  The next morning we set up our machine guns at our outlying 

positions and a patrol was sent out to reconnoiter the area.  As I remember, 

they didn’t get too far when they ran into a German patrol and were fired upon 

and were forced to retreat back to our positions.  For the next day or so, 

this activity continued and occasionally we would receive some German sniper fire. 

 I believe it was on the 1^st morning that Jack Niklas was on duty with the gun 

when a sniper’s bullet hit the sight leaf of the machine gun and ricocheted off.  

Jack fell backwards away from the gun unscathed but realized what a close call 

he’d had.  This kind of sniping continued sporadically all through the next day or so.  

One incident I will never forget was on the second morning we were there.  We’d 

received 2 or 3 new replacements.  One of the new fellows was assigned to me to sort 

of get him acclimated to our situation and help him get adjusted to the front line.  This is 

experience that you can only get by being there.  On the first afternoon, Mother Nature 

called and I told him to take his little entrenching shovel and make a small hole right close

 to our 2 man foxhole and use it.  He said, “Man, I’m not going to do that!”  I told him 

we’d been receiving sniper fire and that wondering too far from the foxhole was too 

dangerous.  Well, I was a boy of 19 and I guess he was somewhere between 25 and 30.  

He wasn’t about to let a kid tell him what to do, so up the hill he went.  He proceeded to 

take off up the side of the hill and progressed about 50 or 75 yards until he found a 

rather large tree.  He set his carbine up against the tree, took off his helmet and 

draped it on top of his gun barrel, took off his coat and hung it over the helmet 

and proceeded to answer Mother Nature’s call.  He had just finished and was

 pulling up his pants when a German fired at him with an automatic weapon; 

we called them burp guns as they fired so fast.  The first bullets kicked up 

dire right around his feet.  Down the hill he came, holding to his pants, running as 

fast as he could.  A machine gun burst would come just every few steps.  Just as 

he got to the road he fell with bullets kicking up dirt all around him and I just knew 

that he’d been hit.  He jumped up and landed right on top of me in the foxhole.  

He didn’t have a scratch on him but I’ll never know how or why.  I guess the 

Lord was just watching over him.  Needless to say, I did not have to warn him 

about the danger of wandering off again.  I wish I could remember his name.  

All I can remember is that he was married and was from St. Louis, MO.  

About dusk, Sgt. Williams instructed me to go with him back up the hill and see 

if we could retrieve his gun, helmet, coat, belt and canteen.  We were able to 

accomplish this without further incident.

 

SIEGFRIED OR BUST

About 3 or 4 o’clock the next morning, we were told to prepare to move out.  We 

were headed for the Siegfried Line though we G.I.s didn’t know it.  About 5:30, we paused for 

just a short time and we were told that we were just preparing to encounter barbed wire 

entanglements that we’d have to work our way through and the German fortifications 

were just ahead.  They thought that we were still undetected, so were told to take every precaution.  

We were not to make any more noise than we had to.  Everything went well until most of us 

got through the barbed wire.  Sgt. Williams and Dick Lademan were up front leading the way.  

They advanced to a German trench and the first shot fired hit William’s helmet and sent it 

rolling back beside him.  He swore and said that was to damned close, retrieved the helmet 

and stuck it back on his head.  They were able to get into the trench and about that time 

a hand grenade landed in the trench with them.  Lademan was wounded but Williams’s saw 

2 Germans right out in front of them.  He proceeded to take care of both of them.  Everything

 happened so fast after that I don’t remember many details.  But in just a short time, we had 

captured about 50 Germans and secured 3 pillboxes.  One of these Germans could speak 

perfect English.  He told us that we might be getting the best of it here but they were knocking 

the Hell out of us up north.  Of course, we didn’t know anything about the Battle of the Bulge 

at that time.  The medics were able to get Dick Lademan into the pillbox and treat his wounds, 

and to where he would remain until 3 days later when stretchers came up and carried four of us out.  

During a lull in the fighting, we examined Sgt. William’s helmet.  The bullet entered the front of the 

helmet about an inch below the crown.  The hole was about the size of a pencil.  Where it exited,

 the hole was about the size of a quarter.  The helmet liner was shattered.  

How this happened without scratching his head, I’ll never know.  

 

COUNTER-ATTACKS

We remained at this position for 3 days.  The Germans would counter-attack and we would 

fight them off.  This would happen about 3 times a day.  They would come every morning at 

daybreak, every afternoon around 3 or 4 and again in the evening, somewhere between 

10 and 12.  On the night of December 20^th, about 10PM, they launched an attack.  Carl Porter 

had just relieved me from duty on the gun and I had just gotten into the pillbox, preparing to 

take a nap.  Suddenly, Porter came busting in and I could here all the commotion outside.  

Williams asked him what he was doing here and why he wasn’t on the gun.  He said they 

had used a flame thrower on him and he had taken off.  He refused to go back.  So yours 

truly was instructed to go see if the gun was still there and take over duty until relieved.  

You can imagine how scared I was.  It was pitch black outside and I had no idea what 

would be waiting on me down at the end of that trench where the gun was, or had been.  

I felt my way slowly along, taking 2 or 3 steps and then stopping and listening.  I continued this until 

I finally reached the gun. It was still intact but no ammunition anywhere.  While examining the gun, 

I heard the working of a rifle bolt.  Then in a few seconds, I heard a little shrill whistle off to the 

side from where I heard the rifle bolt.  In just another second or two I heard a rifle bolt work 

off to the right of the whistle.  I just froze in my tracks as I knew there were three Germans out 

there in front of me.  This signaling continued in sequence for 5 or 10 minutes (seemed like an 

eternity) and each time it got a little further away.  When they finally got out of hearing, I decided to 

carry the gun back up to the pillbox.  It was no use out there without ammunition and I didn’t want

 the Germans to get it.  The next morning when it got light enough, we went out to examine the 

situation and to try and find out just what had taken place the night before.  The 250 round 

cartridge belt was found torn to bits, little pieces 2 or 3 inches long.  A few still had an empty 

shell or two in it.  The only thing that we could figure out was that a hand grenade had exploded

 right at the gun and had blown the cartridge belt to bits.  There was no sign that it was caused 

by a flame thrower and the gun itself was not damaged.  

We put in a new ammunition belt and the gun was ready for service.  

 

I’M GOING HOME

On the afternoon of December 21^st , about 3 o’clock in the afternoon, Donald Hoy,

 myself and a boy from the Rifle Company were at the gun when an artillery shell exploded 

right close to us.  We all ducked down and I guess another hit the large tree right above us.  

I didn’t hear the second one but when I came to myself, I was sitting down in the trench.  

The boy from the Rifle Co. evidently was hit pretty badly and he was screaming at the top 

of his voice.  I didn’t feel a pain in the world but I just couldn’t get up.  Some of the other 

boys came running up to help and one of them said, “Well Morgan, are you just going to sit there.” 

 I told him that I couldn’t get up because my legs wouldn’t move.  I

looked as best I could but could not see a scratch anywhere.  I noticed that one of my boots

 had a chunk of rubber torn out of the heel but other than that could see nothing.  I was numb 

from my waist down but didn’t realize it at the time.  They got the other boy out and into the 

pillbox and then two of them came and carried me in.  The Medic then told me a piece of 

shrapnel had hit me in the back.  (I didn’t know until later that the shrapnel had severed 

my spine.)  I think Hoy also received minor shrapnel wounds, but nothing too serious.  

To my good fortune, four men from a medical battalion came up with stretchers about 

an hour after I was wounded.  They got four of us who had the worst injuries and 

prepared to carry us out to evacuate us back to a field hospital.  They were taking me, 

Lademan, the boy from the Rifle Co. and one other fellow out on the litters.  They got 

16 of the German prisoners, putting 4 to each litter, to carry us.  T/Sgt. Charles Ceronsky, 

along with the boys who brought up the litters, escorted us out.  We hadn’t gone over a 

couple hundred yards when a shell hit right close to our column of wounded and those with us.  

The Germans dropped us like we were a sack of flour.  Of course, that is a natural instinct 

when you are used to coming under artillery and mortar barrages.  Ceronsky then made it 

clear to the German prisoners that if they dropped us again, his rifle butt would find the 

side of their heads.  They all understood even though only one of them spoke English.  We traveled 

maybe another 50 or 75 yards and another shell hit practically on top of us.  The German on the 

right rear of my litter was the one that could speak English.  He was hit pretty bad by shrapnel

 from the shell burst.  The others picked me up and we headed out again leaving the German 

lying on the ground to his own fate, as we could not afford to tarry.  I was really beginning to 

hurt by this time and I guess I must have been groaning a little cause Lademan said, 

“Hang in there Morgan.  We’ll be back to Medical before long.”  I felt ashamed 

as he’d laid  in that pillbox for 3 days, wounded and he was comforting me.  I remember

 them getting us back to the jeeps where they could take us to the field hospital.  I think 

they had carried us 4 or 5 miles to get us where the jeeps were waiting.  The next thing I 

remember was waking up the next morning in a large tent, like a makeshift hospital.  A Red Cross

 lady was there and she had a record of ‘Sleepy Lagoon’ playing on a portable record player.  

That was the most beautiful music I had ever heard.  She asked me how I was doing and I told her OK.  

She said, “Is there anything that I can do for you?”  I said, “Yes, would you write my mother a note for 

me so she will not be scared to death when she receives the telegram about my injury?”  She said 

she would be glad to. It wasn’t easy having her write my Mother that I was paralyzed from the 

waist down. I told her what to write and gave her our home address. My mother received this letter 

about a week before the telegram arrived.  I was transferred from the field hospital to an 

evacuation hospital at Haguenau.  I was there a few days and then transferred to Epinal where 

I spent another few days and then was sent to the 23^rd General Hospital at Mearcourt, France.  

I left there on the 27^th of February and was taken to Marseille, where I boarded the hospital 

ship “Thistle”.  I was headed back to the good old U.S.A.  We arrived in Charleston, SC on 

March 14^th, 1945 and was taken to Stark General Hospital in Charleston.  I contracted a 

very serious kidney infection there and they didn’t think I was going to live.  They phoned 

my parents to come if they wanted to see me alive.  By the time they got there, I was doing better 

and about a week later, I was transferred to Kennedy General Hospital in Memphis, TN.

 

IN CONCLUSION

After spending 15 months in Kennedy General Hospital in Memphis, getting all the

 bed sores healed, intensive rehabilitation training and instructions on how to take care 

of myself, along with again adjusting to society in general, I was discharged from the Army 

and the hospital on June 30, 1946.  It was a bigger adjustment than I had expected.  It seems 

that only time, patience and a loving family can get you through times like that.  I remained at 

home with family for four years and it seemed like I was just marking time and not really 

accomplishing anything so I returned to Memphis in January of 1951.  Two of my former hospital buddies 

and I rented a house and lived together.  All of us started back to school.  One went to Memphis 

Art Academy, the other attended Memphis State University and I

enrolled in Business College.  I completed 2 years and went to work for a cotton firm in the 

billing and shipping department.  While working there I met my future wife (Marianne) who was 

working at the State Rehabilitation Office at the VA Hospital.  We were married on October 2, 1953.  

We remained in Memphis until 1957.  We purchased some property in New Albany, MS, which 

was Marianne’s home town.  We built a new home and moved in September of that year.  In 1959 

I began work as the Veterans Service Officer for Union County.  We also adopted our daughter 

in the fall of that year.  She was 2 months old at the time.  I remained at my post as County Service

 Officer for the next 30 years and retired in 1988.  Our daughter married in 1986 and we now

 have two grandsons, Walter & Wesley Robbins.  Our daughter is an elementary school 

teacher and our son-in-law is a pharmacist.  Marianne and I have now been married 53 years

 and have many things to be thankful for.  The Lord has been truly good to us.

 

    

 

Herb (center in wheel chair) at Kennedy General Hospital, Memphis, TN in 1945.