大象传媒

England was a special place for me even when a school boy in Tacoma, Washington, USA.
I had a British penpal who sent me boy's papers, souvenirs and photos. My mother was an Anglophile. So I was pleased to be sent to the UK as a member of the U.S.Army Air Corps, 21st Weather Squadron.
First we spent a brief enjoyable period in N.Ireland......but eventually we ended up as an attached unit to the Third Army, XX Corps,
stationed in Marlborough, Wiltshire. We had a barracks on the village green and could walk down the hill to shop and enjoy the ambience of this charming old world place.
Driving about the countryside I discovered one of the most picturesque sites in all of England......the Mill Cottage at Stitchcombe. And by the rustic bridge I met
a pretty young girl, Lucy.
She thought that I was a handsome young fellow and I enjoyed her company all during my stay in Wiltshire. We walked in the Savernake Forest close by and even followed the ancient wagon tracks worn in the Roman Road. I painted a picture of the cottage which hung on the wall of her home ever after. Stitchcombe is a few miles out from Marlborough but I often walked both ways to see her. I recall seeing the charcoal makers in the forest.....making artist's charcoal sticks. And gypsy wagons. The forest at that time was full of ammunition dumps and other materials awaiting the coming invasion.
It was astounding to see groups of C47 transport aircraft towing gliders in formation. They passed overhead in May practicing for the Normany landing. And passing overhead the vast array of B-17's and B-24's enroute to the continent....leaving a mosaic of white , lacy
contrails.
The time came when we had to leave Marlborough and move out to Ogbourn St. George to allow out Marlborough barracks to be used as a hospital for invasion casualties.
I returned to Marlbough in 1958 to visit Lucy
and her husband and family.....and have returned a number of times since. Lucy died a few years ago and since then I have visited her family as recently as 2004. And my wife and I always make a point of having breakfast at the Polly Tea Room, in Marlborough. I love to walk in that historic town which hasn't change very much since 1944.
Our weather station group trooped down to the coast and on July 24th found ourselves off of Utah Beach. It was a breathtaking vista......looking North along the Normandy coast.....at the many hundreds of ships landing troops and supplies. Unforgetable.
At that time the front was stable and the Germans were just a few miles away.
We set up our weather station in the apple orchards and sampled the cider and Calvados.
Our job was to provide weather information to the commanding general Walton Walker. He was General Patton's favorite and an outstanding leader. Small and pugnacious. He went on to command the U.S. 8th Army in the Korean war......and was killed, like Patton, in an automobile accident.
When elements of the Third Army broke out a few days later......we broke camp, loaded up our weapons carrier and jeep and our large weather van and followed in the wake of the fast moving infantry and armored units of the Third Army.
Traveling every day we put many miles in as we passed thru newly liberated French villages. At one point we entered a small
village just as the Germans went out the other side. The French was gathred around us welcoming us as victors. Imagine ! Our weather station as liberators ! With one of my friends I climbed up in the church tower and had a jolly time ringing the church bells signaling the countryside.....that
Paul Gaudette and Detachment YD of the 21st Weather Squadron, XX Corps, Third Army had driven the Germans out !!
We continued on our victorious way until we met up with tough resistance just outside Metz. Our station was set up in an old customs station. We could see P-47's dive bombing the Metz forts.....and large artillery pieces were set up next to us shelling the stubborn defenders. The Third Army had a tough time winkling out the German army.
After we picked up our stuff and moved to Conflans-Jarny we heard that the Germans had sent an armored column right down the road and past our previous bivouac.
Close shave.
In conflans I talked my way into a comfortable feather-bed and private bedroom in a French home. A family of six girls. One, my age, Paulette, thought I was a good prospect as a husband. We went to French films in the village and between my GI French and her minimal English we figured out the plots. Finally.....I had to relinquish my cozy featherbed so the older daughter could use it as a maternity ward !
During our time in Conflans the Germans had not forgotten us. They had a long range cannon located a afew miles away...secreted in a railroad tunnel..Every night they would roll it out and send a shell towards us. Best they could do was bracket us.
We thought that under the circumstances we best move.....so we headed north to Thionville, France.....on the Moselle River. This was now December. WE were fortunate enough to have a cozy duplex to live in. With steam heat.....and two French girls who volunteered to be maids.
In mid-December, the Germans sliced into Luxembourg and Belgium and the Battle of the Bulge started. Hitler's original plan was to attack with one ormored column right thru Thionville ! Luckily for us the southern attack was moved a bit north.
I remember standing on a cold, windswept corner watching an endless column of 6x6 trucks go by.....headed for the Third Army counterattack to liberate Bastogne. I saw those miserable, freezing GI's sitting in the open trucks and felt to sorry for them.....and glad that I was not one of them. I went back to my warm bedroom and settled down to read a good book.
Some time after that, in January, I received a pass that allowed me to spend a few days at 9th Air Force headquarters in
Chantilly, France. But entrance to Paris was forbidden.The 9th was commanded by General Vandenburg. In later years his son, Major General Sandy Vandeburg, became a good friend of mine. Anyway......I had no pass to go to Paris.....so I made my own and got a ride into Paris....after a couple of days
enjoying the night life....I found myself walking along a Left Bank street holding a single red rose and trying to drink in the romance of Paris...Paris !
Until a jeep passing by stopped and an MP got out and asked to see my pass. When I pulled out my fake pass....a half dozen more like it fell on the ground. So I soon found myself before a MP officer who took one look at this rosy cheeked young Corporal....and gave me 12 hours to get back to my unit.
Later on the axe fell and I was reduced to private again. But all the same, I had my days and nights n Paris. And although I have been back to Paris many times since......that first visit was the best.
In early 1945 we followed the troops driving the Germans East......we went thru one devestated village after another. In Altdorf......we were escorted to the just liberated concentration camp. Before the Germans had left they had called all the inmates to an assembly.....then turn machine guns on them. They still lay where they had fallen.....about a hundred or more. One inmate , who had hidden and survived, described the scene to us. Outside the camp the German inhabitants of the village were made to dig graves for the victims.
That was the first camp. Later on our c.o. Capt. Mordy, asked me to drive him to just-liberted Buchenwald. AS we drove up to the gate, General Patton's jeeb drove out. He sat stoney-faced as he passed by. WE found ourselves inside the camp. All about us the strved, ragged inmates presented a sad picture. We met an English-speaking inmate who guided us. He took us to a barracks where, in bunks, lay the emaciated moribund......those who were obviously dying.
It was a macabre scene I can never forget.
Later on we visited the camp at Ebensee.
I returned to visit Buchenwald a few years ago and had my photo taken by the gate through which I had entered that day in 1945.
When the war ended we were camped in a rural farm near Linz , Austria. The road to Vienna went right past us. One afternoon a motorcycle appeared coming from that direction. It was an escaping German officer.
He asked for some oil for his vehicle. We had none so directed him to a wrecked German truck just down the road. Perhaps he could get some from it. We had no desire to capture him. We had many oportunities to take prisoners. But why bother.
On a sight-seeing jaunt to Betchesgaden we
met an SS division on their way to surrender.
They went on their way.....we felt odd driving past this long line of Germans who had not as yet surrendered !
At Hitler's house we found it pretty well smashed up....so I suggested to two of my pals that we head for Mt. Kelstein.....where I remembered Hitler had a mountain top house.
When we got to the entrance to the elevator we found it out-of-order. So....I led my group on a climb up the mountain. The going was too tough for my friends.....so I found myself alone when I reached the top. There were some paratroopers in resident...shooting at eagles. I wandered around the house looking for souvenirs...
as I was leaving an officer intercepted me and relieved my of the French telephone under my jacket. But I kept the few other items that I had found. I shared them with my pals later.
WE now found ourselves having brief
vacation living in a chalet on the Worm See. Next door lived the famous German film star, Hans Albers. Marlene Dietrich had just spent some time visiting him. I met him and spent some time with him looking at his scrapbooks......not realizing at the time what a famous actor he was.
After the end of the war I was stationed at an airfield, Gablington, near Augsburg and stayed there until I was put in a 40x8 boxcar, sent to Lucky Strike camp and then put aboard a Victory ship for a very, vry stormy passage to New York. I was flown back to Fort Lewis and mustered out in December.
I was very lucky. I was with a good unit. Traveled from Northern Ireland to Austria and had many adventures. Two of my schoolmates were not so lucky. John Roeder, whom I had known since kindergarten was killed in Italy, a member of the 10th Mountain Division. Jack Henriot, another close friend lost a leg to a German mortor shell. He now lives next door to my son and I visit him often.
Since 1945 I have visted Europe nine times.....always returning to Marlborough and in some cases returning to places I had known on the continent.
I made a lot of drawings during the war and also have some photos. I recently visited a member of the unit who is retired in Santa Monica.
Like Jimmy Doolittle said about his life......I could never be so lucky again.

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