in our company, I noticed several of them flipping dirt from under themselves with their mess kit spoons. That's how well the enemy had us pinned down. I don't know how, but I made it back and related our situation to the battalion commander. He was afraid our men were too close to the enemy and refused permission for the artillery to fire. The company didn't get out of there until after dark that night. We failed to capture the bridge. 'Up to this time, many of us had been on the front line continuously for over three months. Our nerves were getting pretty well shattered. I often wondered what it would be like if I were captured. I never thought about what I would be doing tomorrow or a week from tomorrow, only how I was going to survive the present. On the eighth day of the operation we were told to go back and take the bridge we had failed to get earlier. This time we had tanks with us. It was a comforting feeling to see them knock out those machine guns each time one opened up. We pushed right past the first bridge and captured two more, although both had been destroyed before we got there. When we reached the second bridge, the Germans started laying the artillery in on us; and we began taking heavy casualties. A good friend of mine was hit in the leg. I tried giving him a shot of morphine, but he refused to take it. We walked through the incoming artillery to the medics. I don't know why we didn't get hit. In all, we lost 40 to 50 men that day. Half of them weren't wounded; they just couldn't stand the pressure anymore. The doctors called it combat fatigue, but we just referred to them as 'psycho cases'. We had landed on the beach eight days earlier with 103 men. That night we established our defense with 13. It was the same day the Ranger unit on our left was ambushed and wiped out.' Corporal Stimpson became company operations sergeant the next day. Accounting for all the previous day's casualties was his first task: 'I went to battalion to have the operations sergeant explain what I needed to do. As he was talking, I remember feeling like pulling my hair and screaming. I had a huge mess to straighten out, but I knew that how I reported our missing men determined the type of telegram their parents would receive at home. Having this responsibility probably saved me from blowing my top and becoming a psycho case myself.' Over the next few weeks, the company survived repeated artillery and ground attacks not only because of their determination but because, 'we knew there was nowhere to go but into the ocean.' In March, two months before the stalemate in Italy was broken, the 504th was pulled out of Anzio and sent to England for a much needed rest. Lawrence describes his most hair-raising experience as platoon sergeant as September 17, 1944, when the paratroopers of the 504th jumped in Holland to secure the Nijmegen Bridge for Allied forces driving toward the borders of Germany. He and his buddies landed in Holland with a famous allied Airborne Army which included Polish and British jumpers as well as Americans. 'Our immediate aim was to capture the Nijmegen Bridge, but our company, armed only with small arms, immediately encountered trouble. We ran into a German group of 40 or 50 men, but managed to come out pretty well. In fact we killed eight of them - and captured the rest.' Kenneth Fernelius Stuart Kenneth Stuart attended Weber from 1947-1948. He served in the Army from November of 1944 to August of 1946. He was stationed in the European Theater of Operations from March 1945, just two months before Germany surrendered, until his discharge. He served in various locations in France and Germany during his tour of duty. He was discharged as a sergeant and received the European Theater ribbon and the Good Conduct Medal. Richard B. Swenson On this sunshiny day with not a cloud in the sky, we were sailing along in the broad vast Atlantic Ocean. It was a beautiful 14th of December, 1943, of bright sunshine and aquamarine water for as far as I could see in every direction. I was on the famous Queen Elizabeth, which had quickly reached her ocean going speed; and we were really on our way to take our place, whatever it may be. 128 in fighting this monster of an Adolph Hitler and his evil 'Wehrmacht.' After being assigned my bunk, and storing my 'gear,' I rushed back up to the top deck, to take in all the beauty of this grandeur of the world I had never seen before. Being December, the slight wind was about medium cool, and my garrison jacket felt good. I wandered to the 'prow,' (the front of the ship), then back to the 'stern' to view the wide 'wake' as the result of the huge screws (propellers) churning their best to get us to where we were going. After arriving in England, in the early afternoon of the third day I was there, I received orders to report to my assigned duty: 242nd Quartermaster Depot Co. The 242nd Quartermaster Depot appeared to be housed in Quonset huts. The largest ones were for the purpose of inside storage of materials, those of smaller dimensions, were the offices and other work places. I might add something about my status in rank in the United States Army. When I arrived there, the 242nd QM Depot Company had been activated long before I arrived; and all the 'NCO' ranks had been filled. This also meant that, since I arrived as a 'private,' I remained a 'private' the whole almost year and an half I was with them. But in any case, I thanked the Lord in my prayers every new day that I was in the best possible place to be in this devastating war. We, of the Quartermaster Corps, were performing an extremely vital function in maintaining a great army in the field and now engaged in deadly combat with an unrelenting enemy. To add to the already favorable place "behind the lines," we had the best of everything the Army could offer-food, drink, and even one day off a week to go and get acquainted with the people in the areas we were assigned. I stress this, because very often during each day, a supply sergeant from different combat units would come in to load his truck with supplies needed to support his usual regiment for a short time. On seeing those who had come from the front lines, in the nearby front lines, my heart was chilled to see some of them, who had not had a shower for days, nor shaved, and sometimes had gone a long time with nothing to eat. I cannot remember how many times I said to myself, 'There, but for the grace of God go I.' Toward the end of May 1944, we received orders to pick up and moveto where, we were not told. However, we were headed south in our trucks. Some of the towns we came into were, Reading, Maidenhead, and another very renowned place where we stopped, was a quaint little village of Henley on Thames. This was the location of the famous boat races in England, among the various universities. It was a very neat, well kept dockside spot, paved, and with chairs and large beach umbrellas which looked very appealing to us. And, of course, our good ole 'Captain Runge' knew all about this, and we were very glad to get down off those trucks and head for the shade of the umbrellas. It was already hot, at about noon that day. The hour we spent having lunch and relaxing in this quiet, peaceful place was enjoyed after a long trek in the back of those trucks. And the news that we would spend the night there in a nearby dormitory was very gratefully received. The next morning, after a breakfast furnished by the local dignitaries of the town, we 'pushed on,' as they say. The morning was clear and bright as we continued on south. However, the next night, we camped 'the hard way,' in an open field. There, we stayed for about nine or ten days, which to us was just another manifestation of the 'old Army game' (hurry up and wait). But, leaving there on another bright, sunny morning, we came into a very neat little town of Reading. There, we were instructed to alight from our vehicles and join a crowd gathered in the town square. As we added quite a great number to the crowd already there, a man appeared on a platform raised for the purpose. 'Ladies and gentlemen,' he announced through a public address system, 'It gives me great pleasure to announce to you that our Allied Forces have landed on the western coast of France, at Normandy and Cherbourg.' After a short pause, he said, 'I must also express to you the grief we all must feel, for the many lives that so many of our young men are being lost. And because the weather in the Channel is very bad, this is adding to the peril of the success of the invasion. For this reason, let us all remove our hats and bow our heads in prayer.' As we pushed on south, the storm over the channel had reached out over us; and our next stop was in a large, open field, on which were pitched a great many 'pyramidal' tents. The field was muddy; and it was very miserable, slogging about in the mud, getting situated for the coming night. Our tent was but one of a great field of tents, most of which were designated for the combat troops, waiting to embark for their part in the invasion of Europe. Of course, I had the opportunity to get acquainted with some of them. Some had already smudged part of their faces with 'black,' for why, I did not know. But those I talked to seemed very much at ease; some of them just barely out of high school. Without getting 'maudlin,' I wondered to myself which of all these stalwart, valiant young men would be coming home. 129