Harold Moroux, 90, recalls WWII experiences, part of a tank company in the 11th Armored Division.

Moroux, 90, recalls WWII experiences | theadvertiser.com | The Advertiser

Moroux, 90, recalls WWII experiences



Bruce Brown • bbrown@theadvertiser.com • January 15, 2011

DUSON — It's hard to imagine Harold Moroux commanding a tank in the heat of battle. His manner is calm, with a gentle humor enlivening his conversation.






But, nearly 70 years ago, Moroux was rumbling across Europe in the thick of the Second World War, part of a tank company in the 11th Armored Division with Gen. George Patton's famed Third Army. Like so many of his generation, Moroux was simply going about the business of saving the world.
"Let me say one thing — I'm no hero," said Moroux, who turned 90 this week and will celebrate with family and friends today in Scott. "All the heroes are the ones who are still out there, with white crosses."
Moroux was among those who landed in France in October, 1944, shortly after the D-Day invasion of Normandy, and proceeded to advance toward Nazi Germany. By December, he and hundreds of others were surrounded at Bastogne in what became the Battle of the Bulge.
Temperatures fell to a mind-numbing 20 below zero during that pivotal battle, but once the weather broke and Allies regained their footing, the Nazi regime was on borrowed time.
"We were encircled by the Germans," Moroux said. "We had no fuel, but they had run out of ammunition, so from November to early January (1945) we weren't doing anything. But once the weather started to clear and planes could fly, the Air Force (Army Air Corps) started to pound Germany and we were able to break through."
Early in the war, Allied forces faced tall odds against German Tiger tanks that "were bigger, faster and had better range than our Sherman tanks," Moroux said. "But they started to fortify the Shermans better toward the end."
As a result of nearly constant bombing, the Germans' problem became lack of fuel and materials as Allies advanced.
"At one point, the Germans had tanks with Red Crosses painted on them, so you weren't supposed to fire on them," Moroux said. "But then those tanks started firing at us, so we got rid of them directly."
American troops also dispatched German prisoners, rather than committing personnel to guard them.



"We were fighting troops, not disposition," Moroux said, reflecting the headlong advance to southern Germany to tighten the grip on Nazi troops in tandem with Russian advances from the east.

Moroux clearly recalls horrific sights during the war, including a group of liberated French soldiers summarily executing a German found in a hayloft, but none was more chilling than when his unit helped to liberate the Mauthausen concentration camp.



"You can't imagine it," said Moroux, who still has photos he took documenting the atrocity. "My unit got there the second day, but the evidence was still there. Two thousand people died. Bodies were there, piled up. We had to use a bulldozer to bury them all. Also, there was a town nearby, and the bigwigs denied knowing about the camp. But we made them dig holes with shovels. The town was only five, six miles away. They had to know.
"I couldn't eat for two or three days. Just a candy bar, nothing else. Then, we moved on."
During the campaign, Moroux was able to write to his wife, Clarisse. But he was careful not to tell her all that he saw.
"I'd get the V-mail letters, and they would be muddy, with things cut out of them," Clarisse Moroux said. "The letters had to go through the censors, and they would take anything out that might be sensitive. He would tell me that he got to sleep, or ate a good meal — just so I had a letter and would know that he was still alive.
"I stayed at the radio all the time, listening for news — especially during the Battle of the Bulge."
As soon as the Allies triumphed in Europe, Moroux and many others began training for an anticipated invasion of Japan. But atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki ended the war in the Pacific.
"Have you ever been at a football game, and your team wins?" Moroux said. "Everybody yells. That's what we did when we heard about the A-bombs. We started screaming, because we would get to come home."
Although home, Moroux had trouble putting the war behind him.
"I would remember things that I wanted to go away," he said. "I didn't want to bring them up anymore."
"When he first got back, he was dreaming, and all of a sudden he was choking me against the wall," Clarisse Moroux recalled. "He said, 'Get out of my foxhole!' "
"It took me 5 years to get over it," said Moroux, who eventually was able to speak to school groups about his tour of duty.
He also served during the Korean War (more minus-20 conditions) and was later stationed in Germany during the Berlin Wall crisis toward the end of a 21-year Army career.
"I learned that the German people were not who we thought we were once fighting," Moroux said. "It was surprising. They were nice, intelligent people."
All five of the couple's children— Stephanie Chambers, Tony (deceased), Greg, Danielle and Marc— became attorneys or achieved advanced degrees. That is a measure of pride for Moroux, an orphan who never finished high school and found his home in the Army.
After nearly 70 years, the uniform still fits him. And the legacy of service endures.