MY WAR

BY

Bill Barrows

In early 1943 the Army and Navy held exams for high school seniors to be considered for officer appointments after graduating from special programs like ROTC in designated colleges; the Navy’s were for Line Officers (V12), pilots (V-5) and submarine (V-7). The Army’s were for Line officers in engineering, meteorology and dentist [a candidate could apply to the field of his choice, if qualified, after a period known as the Army Specialized Training Program (ASTP), if openings existed in those fields, otherwise he would be assigned to one after a period of extra-rigorous basic training]. I enlisted in the Army and was sent to Fort Devens in Massachusetts; because I had taken meteorology in high school that is the field I opted for initially; at the end of my “basic” in North Camp Hood (a sparse location that specialized in tank destroyer operations and Infantry desert warfare) I went before the Review Board and was told the only openings were in Engineering, and I was assigned to Iowa State College in Ames as a Cadet like those at West Point (later I was to learn that while I was there it was the place they were building the detonating mechanism for the atomic bomb).

We were in a speeded-up 13-week cycle where we would accomplish as much as in a normal semester. Midway through my first cycle, the Army, needing bodies on the ground, cancelled all cadet programs (except West Point), including Air Cadets, and we were shipped off to Fort Leonard Wood to train (anew) as infantrymen in the 97th Division. After several months of training in the Ozark Hills, we were loaded onto troop trains and sent to Camp San Luis Obispo on CA’s coast where, because of our specialized extra-rigorous training, we were being prepared to make the initial assaults on Japan (we were told to expect 99% casualties…ugh!) as Regimental Combat Teams that included Marines, Coast Guard and Seabees; mine was the

387 th. (BTW, that was the first such s.o.p. and it became the modus oprendi that has extended down to present times though under the control of a Division designation). Suddenly in mid-1944 our General came before us to announce we were all to be broken up and sent to Europe to supplement the ground forces there; I was sped across the country in 5 days, something that train travel was not used to (we even had a unit of what I later learned was a unit of the Atomic Energy Commission on our trains to be sure we were given top priority all the way).

We were deposited at Fort George Meade in Washington D.C. for a few days, and I had the opportunity to go into downtown to wander around [including a stop one night in the lounge of the Willard Hotel where soon, after we sat down, in came General George Marshal (the Chief of Staff to President Roosevelt) and his staff , and we sat in awe at all the top “brass” of our nation sitting a few tables from us. At first one of his staff asked us to leave, but when Gen. Marshall heard we were out of the old ASTP and the “387th” he told his man to back off and let us stay w/our drinks for “you were going on a mission most important to the country..”

Soon after that we were loaded onto a train and shipped in the dead of night to Camp Shanks in Orangeburg, N.Y., a staging area for overseas deployment. While there I was able to go into NYC where I met my father, who had come down from Massachusetts in a horrible hurricane, to say goodbye. The next evening we were loaded onto a train and taken to Weehauken, N.J. and transferred to a ferry to take us across the Hudson River to load onto the HMS. Mauritania, a Cunard liner, then the third largest ship afloat and having such high speed it was capable of crossing the Atlantic without escort. Five days later we pulled into what I thought was Liverpool (but later documents said it was Grenock, Scotland). En route we fought off and sank a German submarine that Hitler had boasted sank us, so when a British search plane came out to find us (or the remains) it was a jubilant dockside welcome that greeted us on arrival.

In England our troop train took us to a camp near Northwitch for about a week, then again we were put on a train and taken to Southampton and loaded on assault ships to take us to Utah Beach in France where, like the guys who took the beach head, we had to climb the cliffs to get to the trucks that would take us to the combat area.

In France we traveled on mostly country roads (the German Air Force was still something to worry about, and there was a big German submarine post back behind at St. Nazzaire). We bypassed Paris and eventually wound up near Nancy (the last city of any size we’d encounter), the HQ. of General Patton’s Third Army and my 26th Division. Soon after to the east we were dropped from the trucks and began the march to the “front lines” some 20 miles away. I use the term “front lines” rather loosely; we were fighting in a forest area akin to the Cuyahoga National Park, a very fluid line. We were fighting to get control of the city of Metz in a campaign that included Bastogne (of Gen. McAuliffe’s famous utterance, “Nuts!). At one point I was the most right-hand man in the most right-hand unit of the 3rd Army, for we had yet to link up with the 7th Army fighting its way up from the Mediterranean area…it was very lonely and raining and snowing all the time. About this time it was felt we had to quell the ability of the German Army to cross rivers and streams on various local bridges to reinforce their troops so someone (me) was assigned to go out in front of our lines at night and blow these up…again a very lonely operation for there was nobody else (I hoped) around as I planted my explosives. About this time, since I never had a chance to put on dry socks, an ailment called “trench foot” (akin to “jungle rot” or “frost bite”…one loses touch and adjacent muscles are impacted) set in and I had mobility problems in the rapidly shifting lines, and I could not keep up. I went back to a battalion aid station for treatment and then taken by ambulance to a regimental Nancy hospital. I was then taken by ambulance to a big Paris general hospital, and eventually flown by hospital plane out of France (the first time I had seen the sun since landing on the beach head) to a big “hospital plant” near Shrivenham, England. This was the end of my ground combat days.

I was in the hospital almost 3 months before being released into a “limited-assignment pool” near Birmingham where I was trained briefly as a clerk and then sent to the 9th Air Force Service Command in France in Beauvais; I was assigned to the 30th Air Depot Group, a unit whose main mission was the maintenance and repair of all the communication devices in the 9th AF (it should be mentioned the 9th AF was a “tactical” unit, i.e., its pilots flew close-in support to the ground forces and flew Martin B-26s, very high speed “medium” bombers as opposed to the 8th AF who flew the big “Flying Fortress” bombers on “strategic” missions at night).

Hardly there more than a couple of days, we drove off in the hush of night to Tirlemont (Tienen) Belgium, a medium-size city midway between Brussels and Liege. We occupied the Kazerne, a sort-of armory for the local militia in better times. The city was delightful, its residents friendly and helpful. I was assigned to be the non-com in charge of purchasing and contracting and civilian labor. It turned out to be a great experience, I learned much, had a nice time, and developed a deep appreciation of a resilient people whose land had been run over many times in Europe’s history.

After the surrender of Germany, our unit was packed off to Illesheim, a tiny German village w/a BIG airfield (we ultimately discovered that underneath it was a factory that made the V2 bombers that rained down on London). Nearby was a bigger village of Windsheim that had a “forced labor” camp nearby whose prisoners were skilled people who worked in the underground factory. Many of them were Jewish and one of my more memorable experiences was escorting a seemingly British Intelligence officer out to interview these people to get volunteers for a Zionist Army that would “storm ashore” in Palestine to establish the nation of Israel; in essence I helped a subsequent piece of history as well. While there in Illesheim, I secured an appointment to Shrivenham American University in England to study math, biology and English. Upon completion of those studies I flew back to Germany, only to find my unit had shipped home. I then joined the Headquarters of the IX AF Service command in Erlangen and got back my old job (plus a host of others including being in nominal charge of all vehicles in Europe, and being in administrative charge of graves registration operations over all AF personnel downed in Europe) and my old boss (in civilian life a high executive in Cannon Mills) and his assistant, a great guy who went on to study law in Maryland. We accomplished a lot, but had a good time doing it. As best we could (since this was a Quartermaster operation) we ran it as a successful business. Along the way I took a day off to go up to Nurenburg to watch the War Crimes Trials and not long after that I got leave to go to Switzerland and Rome. Upon returning I found I was up for redeployment and “shipped out” myself to LeHavre in France where I got on the “General George Muir”, a medium-size ship that took us to NYC. On board I was assigned guard duty to the American Ambassador to Italy who was en route back to DC. We then went by train to Fort Dix and then I was sent to Fort Devens in Massachsetts for discharge.

For all this I was awarded the Combat Infantrymans Badge and the Bronze Star.

 

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Back in civilian life I went to Haverford College and graduated with a major in political science and minor in economics; I concurrently got my pilot’s license at Valley Forge Airport and joined the volunteer Civil Air Patrol as a search and rescue pilot.. I went on 20 years after getting my B.A. before get an MBA at the University of Hartford.

Along the way I have been widowed twice, both beautiful, intelligent and elegant ladies, Fran and Bonnie, were claimed by different types of cancer. I have two (lineal) sons, Ken and Warren w/three grandchildren, and a stepson, Larry, and stepdaughter, Stacy, w/three step grandchildren.

Over the years I’ve had a varied and interesting business career. I began w/Boston’s famous S.S.Pierce Co., involving foodstuffs and importing, for a short time before moving on to the Provident Mutual Life Insurance Co. where one of my clients from Proctor & Gamble steered me into a traveling stint in advertising and sales with them. This led to a lengthy career in paper products that involved sales and market research (including new product development) in the Dixie Cup Company (subsequently American Can Co). Recruited by another paper company I instead joined the executive search firm, Management Recruiters that led to a lengthy career in the U.S.Envelope Div. of the Westvaco Paper Co. About 30+ years ago I resigned to form my own company, Bill Barrows & Associates that specialized in consulting to a few companies in the paper field before settling out now on one firm in the export realm.

Over the years I’ve been in every State except ND, SD, OR, and WA and I’ve traveled in all Canadian Provinces east from Manitoba except Labrador Newfoundland and PEI.