My father
was a World War II veteran and brought a few souvenirs back from the war but
never spoke much about that time in his life, which I think is true of many
WWII veterans. Of the souvenirs and
memorabilia he had from that time, this letter is the only item remaining. Obviously, there is a reason he saved this
over the other items he had. It might be
that this one special day and the description of it by his Sargent made him
feel a little closer to home but that’s just my guess.
This letter
was found in my fathers Army memorabilia from WWII. It’s not a story about a heroic event. It’s a about a group of solders (young men)
that stumbled across a home in France that gave them an unexpected but pleasant
surprise and brightened their day while reminding them of home. This letter seems important because Sgt.
Fleming (possibly an aspiring writer) took the time to write down the events of
the day back in 1945 and give a copy to the members of his squad.
I posted
this letter on limited sites on the Internet in 2013 but now with the growth
of social media I thought this would be a good time to re-release it with a better
explanation of it’s origin. I have the
original typed copy, which I re-typed verbatim for this post.
These are
the words of the writer (Sgt. Paul J. Fleming) describing the events. My father
was one of the 18 solders in the group.
“Some Where in France” INFANTRY
P.F.C . Henry
Ladendecker
It was in the blue of the night, that our
Jeeps felt their way up, seemingly, in a dead road for 15 minutes until we
finally reached a small town that had been badly beaten as though by a band of Indians
in the movies we so often have seen.
Some houses were still smoldering, while others with no roofs or large
holes in their sides, where at one time was a window or door, now have room
enough for any G. I. Truck to pass in and out.
Here we dismounted with all our equipment hurriedly because the
whistling sounds of 88’s were marking the town.
Lead by a guide in single file while our
nerves tightened a little we were taken to the Command Post whose place was on
the cellar of the few remaining houses that were left standing. Here we gathered our wits together for we
knew we were safe. I think!!!!!
The situation was given to us quickly, for
time is most valuable, especially, at night, because of Enemy Patrols, who seek
our positions and whereabouts. A Guard
Master was made, and we posted our men at picked Gun Position. Once more we became nervous for it required
from everyone 2 hours of vigil watch under a high strain of physical effort,
peering through the blackness of night and listening to the countless strange
noises trying to mold what might be or could be the enemy we seek.
When daylight finally came the aspects of
normalcy arose within us for as we made a survey all looked bright, for we saw
a number of good old G.I.’s who had been backing us up all through the night,
roaming around.
Back at the Command Post upon another
survey by us, we came across a setup that only a dream could mold so
elegantly. Before our eyes was a stove,
cooking utensils, plates, table, a pan of churned butter, two chunks of bacon,
salt, onions, spuds together with a garden filled with chickens, rabbits, hogs,
the usual varieties of vegetables and greens, that we once left behind so long
ago.
Without hesitation we began to function. The stove was started, water soon was boiled
and the breakfast for 18 under way.
French fries, coffee eggs, that the boys rounded up, jam and biscuits
that we had in our possessions created our first menu. Fortunate, enough we had two cooks in our
midst, myself and a young lad, we call Hoppy.
However, with the life of animal about us lead those who knew the trade
kill chickens, rabbits and a hog, solely because the instinct of fresh meat was
what he yearned for constantly, but could not make it an actuality until now
and nothing was going to stop his dream come true.
The chicken, spuds, cabbage, carrots and
coffee brought about our dinner that made us open our belts and back away. For supper we had rabbit more vegetables,
stew, baked beans, coffee jam and butter.
Oh yes, the linen and such not forgetting the wine and calvados in
barrels in the cellar. K.P. became no
struggle what so ever. All that
was necessary was for someone to cook and that department proved successfully
each time we moved around the stove.
Special concoctions of fruit bar sauce that were collected from our
breakfast “K” rations, baked apples and chocolate pudding in which the bars are
found in our supper “K” rations as well as meat loaf were by no means a
castaway. Probably the greatest surprise
of all to each and every one of us was the hidden flavor of our Army “C”
rations that so detest when eating from the can, that our ample supply suddenly
vanished when cooked on a range. The
idea of setting at a table will probably remain with us a long time, no doubt,
a treasure to most of us solely, because it could not happen again in a million
years.
No
house could be complete without some kind of relaxation, so I might as well
tell you that there were two puppies and cats to amuse our time upon. We aim to take the smartest pup as a mascot
for we know it will only starve if left alone.
The thought just occurred to me that not
once did I mention who sponsored this affair.
I am at a loss for words, that, I can assure you, but perhaps when I
tell you that maybe the roar of cannons, the falling of shells through the roof
and about the backyard caused this tenant to leave in a hurry. Whatever other reason that they had we will
never know.
So, I will leave you now in the face of an
unfinished chapter because, I cannot state my departure in time of war nor can
I mention what life will bring when we leave here.
I only hope and pray that our free nation
will spare its inhabitants this kind of destruction both in mankind and nature
that we have seen, but in will stand united equally as a neighbor to a neighbor
and rid the country of these who try to menace it.
Sincerely,
Sgt.
Paul J. Fleming
One of the
18 men in the group.
