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Good and Bad - As is usually the case in the army, preparations for moving out of camp at Springhill, England, those bright summer days of July, 1944, were contradictory -- both aggravating and promising -- to the personnel of Co. "B." To start things off with the usual kick in the teeth administered by unit commanders to their faithful flocks just before the comment, "Morale Excellent," goes into the morning report, the men were restricted to the battalion area for a week. Coming with no warning, this move caught many of the boys with recreational schemes and social obligations which they were unable to fulfill. It was very annoying, but no one ever has accused this group of ordnancemen of a lack of ingenuity, so not all the lassies of the ATS, WAAF, NFS and the Women's Land Army were disappointed. The same applies to the unmilitary girls of Broadway, a nearby town which members of the company frequently found reason to visit. In this respect, it must hereby be recorded, purely in the interest of history, that the last incoming phone call to reach the orderly room at Springhill was "aimed at" T-4 James A. "Baldy" Ketner. On the sending end was a little British girl. By use of the ever-present European bicycle, she had been visiting Ketner during the restriction, and the substance of her phone call added to his firm conviction that "there's nothing like a bike and thank God for them." The girl had been worried about her health, and this worry, Ketner, a gentleman to the core, had been sharing in the best Allied tradition. Riding between camp and home, she told him on the phone, had effected such a physical restoration that "Baldy" need no longer be concerned. And so, off to battle with strong heart and untroubled mind goes the warrior. . . . . But before departure from Springhill, came the pleasant part of the usual army contradiction for the men as a whole. They were restricted, true, but things began to look up; the future brightened. Before leaving for the marshalling yards, with all vehicles lined up on the Springhill athletic field, the company was assembled for a few last-minute instructions which turned out to be largely of a sexual nature. G. I. ears flapped forward as they were told that conditions in France were not all they should be -- from the "narrow" viewpoint. Soldiers, it was said, had been evacuated from the Continent on D-plus-4, no less, for disease treatment, and no "B" company men, it was hoped, would so disgrace themselves. Just to be sure that none did, they were issued, at the end of the lecture, so large a supply of preventative materiel that many of the sturdy ordnancemen could see themselves being raped not more than a few hours after setting foot on the shore of France. But, soldiers all, they weren't dismayed by the prospect. |
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To the Channel - On the 100-mile march to the marshalling yards and Southampton, came a taste of what was in store in France -- long, gruelling [grueling] drives in complete blackout. The company left Springhill at 10 p.m. July 15, travelling 95 miles to the marshalling area which was five miles inland from the Southern England port of Southampton. All had trouble staying awake, and sleepiness became so overpowering in some cases that men did drop off momentarily while driving despite all efforts. One such was T-5 John G. Van Hassent, driver of a Parts Issue truck in which T-4 Alan Hankinson was a passenger, during the long trip to the marshalling yards on the British summer night of July 15-16. When Van Hassent dozed off, the truck left the road in the blackness at the exact angle to wedge itself between a tree and a telephone pole and stop without injuring either man. Had the vehicle taken a course a few inches either to the right or left, the incident might have had a sad ending. As it was, only the truck suffered. It was damaged beyond immediate repair. The first air alert came in the marshalling yards and at Southampton where some of the men spent the night of July 16-17. The alarm was sounded at 1 a.m. July 17, and, though no bombs fell, men felt for the first time that defenseless fear which enemy planes overhead in the dark were to evoke again and again on the Continent. The marshalling yards and Southampton had been bombed before both by planes and V weapons. Men spending the night in Southampton learned firsthand of an air-raid precaution to protect British children; a shelter to which soldiers were not admitted because its space was occupied by children of the neighborhood and a few mothers who took turns spending a night in the shelter with all the children rather than get up each time there was an alarm to take them there. |
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And Across - The Channel crossing was made on LCT's and LST's, the company leaving the marshalling area for Southampton and boarding ships in three separate groups. First members of the company to set foot on the soil of France were men of the Evacuation Section who, with two wreckers, crossed the Channel on LCT's and were in Fierville on July 20, two days before the remainder arrived there. In charge of this first group were Lt. Orville Klawon, Lt. Brandt C. Drymon and WOJG Eugene M. Hebberd. They left the marshalling area for Southampton at 11 p.m. on July 17, boarding ship for the crossing on July 18. The main body, including Lt. Sherwood M. Young Jr., Lt. William Becker and 115 men with 37 vehicles, left the marshalling area for Southampton at 6:30 p.m. July 18. The following day, Captain John E. Buehrig, Lts. Donald M. Bailey, Frank W. Haught and Vyron Anderson, with the remainder, left the marshalling area at 10 a.m., boarded an LST at Southampton that night, and sailed for the Continent with the main body in a convoy of hundreds of vessels of all types at 12:30 a.m. on July 20. During the crossing, men slept below deck in bunks, on deck and in any available spot, even on the tops of trucks. During a heavy fog the first morning out, those on the bow of the LST which carried the majority of the company and its vehicles saw another LST pierce the fog just ahead of their ship. It was evident that there would be a collision despite the bellowing of foghorns and maneuvering of the two craft. The vessels hit with a tremendous crash and jolt, causing those who had not seen the thing coming to believe their ship had been torpedoed or bombed. Luckily, the damage to neither vessel was serious, and both were able to continue under their own power. That which carried most of the men and vehicles appeared to be running in a streak of bad luck, for, while anchored off Utah Beach during the might of July 20 to wait for an incoming tide, it lost anchor and drifted, colliding with another LST and sustaining damage resulting in a leak on the port side.  LST's unloading on Utah Beach A storm prevented beaching of the LST's and LCT's on July 21, so it was not until 6 o'clock in the morning of July 22 that the company began to disembark. |