LIBERATION

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My mom turned 52 on April 28th. I prayed that she had many more days of health and happiness. We had been hearing artillery all that week, but now things were really starting to pop. Late in the afternoon, most of the guards left the camp. The next morning, around 10 AM, very close gunfire announced that the American forces were in the vicinity. A volley of shots down the main street of camp wounded a few men. A man about 20 feet away from me was shot in the foot. I bit the dust as soon as the bullets started flying and crawled on my stomach to a place of safety between the barracks. I was never so scared in my life, even when flak was flying around our bomber. I don’t think I would have made a very good infantry man. At 12:40 p.m. the American flag was raised at the edge of Moosburg. Everybody was very excited, and we could barely contain ourselves. Before long, “old glory” was raised at the main gate, and units of the 14th Armored Division, 3rd Army, moved in. We were no longer kriegies, but free men again.

 

We were to remain at the camp until arrangements could be made to get us out. The next day, my brother Chuck’s birthday, we all wandered about in great anticipation. Things were generally quiet except for the artillery popping away in the woods. Some hardy souls went into town, probably to find some German women and something to drink. I figured that since I had made it this far, I better not be stupid now and get killed by a German sniper.

 

Besides, I really didn’t have a desire to go anywhere but home. I wanted to be the first in line to get out of here when the time came. I joined a bunch of guys who broke into the camp’s office, and we went through all the papers. I found my information card for the camp from when I was captured.

 

Later, General Patton drove into our compound. I could see his pearl-handled pistols as he got out of the jeep and addressed our senior American commanding officer, a colonel who was captured during the battle of the bulge. The two saluted; then Patton asked how things were going. I couldn’t believe what I heard next.

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The officer laid into Patton saying, “Frankly General, I’m ashamed to be an officer in this God damned Army. We were liberated 2 days ago, and we still haven’t seen any food for these men. The Germans didn’t feed us, and now you’re not feeding us either.” He really let it fly in terms the General could really understand. That night they brought in food.

 

May 1st, 1945 dawned with a fresh blanket of snow. We all ate well. I had my first white bread since January of 1944. It tasted like home. The Russians held a May Day celebration. It was a good diversion from what was foremost on everyone’s mind. We were all very thankful for our liberation, but now, we were anxious to leave. Unfortunately, bad weather would keep our move from happening. It would take a painfully long week to get us out of there. The high point of each day was the daily visit from the Red Cross girls with candy, cigarettes, and new reading material. 

Finally, on Tuesday, May 8th, we boarded a C-47 and flew to Rheems, a town north of Paris. I heard, over the plane’s intercom system, the Germans were going to sign the surrender ending the war at midnight. The news brought relief for me, but at the same time, I knew that war raged on in the Pacific, and many men were still in harm’s way. I prayed that they too might soon be coming home.

 

We were deloused at Rheems and given G.I. Clothing. Our next stop would be Camp Lucky Strike near Laharb. There we would board ships to cross the Atlantic, the last stretch to home. We stood in long food lines at Camp Lucky Strike. The featured meal was chicken. There wasn’t much else to do, so after going through the line, we’d eat and then get back in line to eat again. It took about 2 hours to go through the line, and your appetite would return by the time you got to the end. I found my other crew members: Phil Miller, Jack Reed, and Smitty. It was great to spend time with them once again. I learned that the whole crew made it back. 5 were taken prisoners of war; 5 were holed up in France and later liberated. We all agreed that we were lucky guys to have gone through what we did and survive (years later, Phil Miller, the bombardier, tried to get us all air medals. He argued, in a letter to the armed forces, that we all made it back and deserved medals. It was approved all the way up to the Pentagon where, like our plane, it was shot down. They said, “Yes, you all made it back. But, you forgot one very important thing… your airplane!”).

Finally, it was my turn to board for home. Our ship was a converted luxury liner that was in the last convoy of ships to head back to America with some protection. It took about 6 days to make the trip. The ship made port in New York Harbor. Seeing the statue of liberty had an incredible impact on me and on all of the men aboard. There were bands playing and people cheering. It was an amazing homecoming.

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I was moved to Camp Killmer in New Jersey and then shipped by bus back to Indiana. Marybeth and my family knew that I would be home soon, and they were going to the bus station every night to wait for me. At last, the day came. I can’t tell you how I felt when I stepped off the bus there in South Bend and saw everybody for the first time. Words can’t describe the emotion, the happiness, the comfort, and security. I was overwhelmed with joy.

 

I was finally home.