Memories of a World War II Soldier
Joey wrote_
There was an old farmhouse about 150 yards away from us, so we all headed for it, figuring to set up a defense.
The group was composed of two tankmen and five infantrymen.
Pappy had a bad thigh wound and could barely hobble to the house. We called him Pappy because he was 29 years old. The rest of us were 20 and 21 years old; not dry behind the ears yet.
Pappy was wounded too bad to lead the squad, so being the next senior man, the job fell to me.
If you stay on the front long enough, you get to be squad leader because they keep getting knocked off.
The two tankmen knew this was a job for the infantry so they just did what they were told.
After a short time one of our guys came running across the room screaming "there's one of them in the yard." I hollered "shoot the bastard." But he froze.
I went to the window and sure enough, one of those bastards was moving around in the yard.
Stepping back a bit from the window, I pointed my rifle at him; he was too close to bother aiming, I blew two shots to his chest and he went down.
As he went down he gave me a questioning look,like he was saying,"why did you do that."
At the time I remember thinking to myself,"better you than me." Believe it or not, years later,that look was still fresh in my mind.
About ten minutes later a German Medic showed up to tend this young wounded soldier.
I hollered to the Medic, in German, get your hands up or I will blow your head off.
He waved his arm at me as to say,"go to hell."I cocked my weapon and it was all I could do to keep from dropping him in his tracks.
We were in dire straits, miles behind enemy lines and surounded by an Anti-Aircraft Battery. I was in no mood to dicker about anything.
Twenty more minutes went by and all hell broke loose. They rolled up to the farmhouse,a self-propeled 105 MM gun and proceeded to blow the house down around us.
I took a bad hit just above the right eye brow,that tore a furrow in my skull. Flesh hung down over the eye and blood ran down my face, down my jacket, all the way to my shoes.
I remember falling to my knees, then coming to as the Germans dragged us out of the wreckage.
They lined our squad up in the middle of the street while they decided whether to shoot us or take us prisoner.
I could see out of one eye only and could barely standup from the shrapnel in my right knee and left arm, so I didn't give a rats ass what they did. Just get on with it.
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