Hi guys (& gals?): I was a Redleg (Field Artillery) 1944-1946. 82 years are starting to put "holes" in my memory, so I figure this would be a good place to relate some "human interest" stories from WW2, before I forget them all. Actually trying to get some details on one particular story, is why I searched the net and found y'all. It happened right after VJ-Day, somewhere early or mid September '45. But before I get into it just want to say hello. Been reading many of the posts here, and find it so full of good spirit I think I'll want to spend some time chewing the rag with y'all. I had almost forgotten about Kilroy -- but I see he's been here too. Bill
Welcome BillyJim, I am so glad to have you here, we need more souls from Alabama. I'm south of you, around Montgomery. We will be happy to hear what you have to tell us. We have a few you fine gentlemen posting in our forum and we are always interested in what you have to say. Thank you on behalf of me and my family for giving up those years of your youth. It means much to me that you were willing to go and I am thankful you made it home, hopefully all in one piece. Do you know how to start a thread? It would be better if you started your own thread to reminisce in. If you need help, let me know and I'll help you get started. Just start from the beginning and let 'er rip.
OK, while I'm waiting to hear from some of y'all I'll peel off a "funny one." Here it is: +++++++++++++++++++++++++ THE LAST WWII "LIVE" ARMY BUGLER When I was drafted into the Army on June 21, 1944, at Camp Upton, LI, NY, Induction Center, they asked us to put down all the skills we could think of that might be of value to the military. I wrote down electronics and radio, based on my building shortwave receivers and a knowledge of ham radio theory. (Of course, I never got to be sent to Electronics School ... the nearest I came to that was Radio Op in the Battery Captain's jeep, Forward Observer.) As an afterthought I added, almost apologetically since it seemed so irrelevant to the war effort, that I had been the bugler in my Boy Scout troop, and also in the Drum and Bugle Corps. Next the scene shifts to the winter of '44/'45, for the entire month of January, in the hills of Oklahoma. I never knew how cold and snowy the South could be (especially after the boilermaker we had spent training on the Oklahoma prairie that past summer.) Our 536th FA battalion had left Camp Gruber, OK, for final maneuvers prior to shipping overseas, the destination likely the Bastogne forests -'The Bulge'.) But we were in weather that probably matched what was going on in Europe then. Conditions were BAD! We were sleeping in slit trenches filled with a foot of sloppy slush during the day, which then turned to ice each night. We were always wet, cold and shivering round the clock. Within the first 2 weeks probably 1/3d of the outfit had been in the hospital with either pneumonia or severe arthritis. Would I make it through to the end of the month? While mulling that over the 1st Sergeant abruptly came up to my slit trench and said, "Schenker, the Battalion Commander wants to see you back in Gruber -- there's a jeep waiting for you now. Hop to it!" I was trying to think of what kind of trouble I was headed for all the way in to camp but could come up with nothing -- but I knew, as a valid generalization about everything in the Army -- that it was probably bad. Several hours later, I was standing in front of Lt. Col. Goodwin's desk, saluting him. Now a little relevant background on the B.C. He was a West Point graduate, and I took him to be in his forties, which means he got out of the Point probably in the early 1930s. Nothing surprising about that -- except for one thing: by the time America had been at war for over 3 years, there wasn't a single Point graduate of his generation who wasn't already a general, at least a Brigadier, more likely a two-star. Why had he been passed over? Up till then I had no idea. So Col. Goodwin opened up with, "Schenker, I see by your Personnel records that you've got an MOS of 'bugler.'" "That's right, Sir." "Can you really blow one of those things, and do you know all the Army calls, from Reveille to Taps?" "Yes, Sir!" "Well, I'll tell you what Schenker, I'm fed up with every outfit in the Army nowadays using a phonograph recording of all the bugle calls and playing them over a loudspeaker.....I want my outfit to have a real live bugler, the way it's always been down through the centuries!" (I couldn't believe my ears. Is this guy serious? Well, he wasn't smiling -- so he WAS for real....AND he's obviously slightly nutso. So that's why he only ended up a 'chicken' colonel by early 1945!) "OK, Schenker, get out of those soaking wet fatigues, get you some warm clothes on, and then report to the Quartermaster to pick up your GI issue bugle. You start playing tomorrow, and you'll be staying in camp...I want to hear every call loud and clear, every day from now on. Got that?" "YES, SIRRRR!" Man, did I ever 'get it.' It meant I was out of the shivering cold -- no more major health hazards from sleeping in the slit trenches. It also meant I had no more duties to perform in between my bugle calls -- no KP, no 'butt patrol', no morning 'fall in for inspection', no more manning the howitzers and cannons -- I was basically my own boss in a situation where almost everybody else was just a number. I envisioned myself spending a lot of time down at the USO, relaxing to my favorite classical music, and ogling the pretty hostesses. And that's just what it turned out to be. Here I was blowing 17 calls a day (and I LOVED playing the bugle -- always had), sauntering down to the mess hall for my 3 squares but otherwise making myself scarce from the battalion grounds. I was living in this Nirvana for about a month when I finally perceived what bargain I had made with Mephistopheles: because I had to be on the battalion grounds for Mess Call, Call-To-Quarters, Tatoo, and finally Taps -- there was no way I could get to Muskogee on an evening pass, and no way I could get to T-Town (Tulsa) or OK-City (Oklahoma City) on a weekend pass. This paradise job was holding me hostage 24/7. In desperation I started scheming an escape. If only I could damage my bugle enough, I could get out of my predicament. Now if this had been an ordinary brass bugle it would been a no brainer. I'd just drop the instrument, hard, on to the ground, thus denting it badly enough that it would no longer blow properly, or tune properly. However, my GI issue bugle was made of an olive drab plastic, and the plastic had to be the same stuff used in the Air Force's gun turrets -- built to withstand incredible stresses. I tried bouncing it off the floor as hard as I could -- no luck. Then as a last resort I went to the Quartermaster, and told him my sad tale of woe. He apparently took pity on me as he said, "OK, private, go put on your heavy GI brogans, take the bugle into the [concrete-floored] shower stalls, and start stomping on it as hard as you can. When you finally get a hairline fracture in the thing bring it back." Not filled with much hope, I nevertheless followed instructions, and in due time (after about 15 minutes of brutalizing the bugle) I did it -- cracked the darn thing. Bringing it back to the QM Sergeant, he said, "OK, now I'm going to fill out the ticket and ship it out to the repair depot. However, the depot I'm shipping it to, Fort Leonard Wood, MO -- doesn't have any bugle repair facilities -- it's a training center for the Signal Corps. So you'll never see the bugle back here in this outfit, for the DURATION. Now get out of here and stop bothering me!" And that's how I returned to a normal Redleg's life, replete with KP, inspection, howitzer/cannon practice -- AND evening and weekend passes! ++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Bill
HEY, SLIP, TNX FOR THE QUICK RESPONSE. "Do you know how to start a thread? It would be better if you started your own thread to reminisce in. If you need help, let me know and I'll help you get started. Just start from the beginning and let 'er rip." Yes, I'd like some help in getting a thread started, 'cause I've got quite a few stories to tell. Bill
I started you a thread, click on this link and it will carry you to it. http://www.ww2f.com/battle-europe/24513-536th-fa-battalion.html#post297740
Welcome to the Forum, Bill and for the story. As, Jeff said in his post, thank you for serving. I look forward to reading your posts. It is always an honour to meet one of the World War II Veterans who find us here on the Forum.
Welcome Bill, Great to have you and your juicy stories. Seems like you're having a lot of fun here. I'll talk to you in the following days.
OK, I'm going to cut/paste my "bugle" story to the thread that Slipdigit so graciously started for me. Bill
Hi BillyJim -- Welcome to the forum and thanks for your stories! I'll be following your posts! Cheers!
