743rd Railway Operating Battalion Unknown Letter
743rd Railway Operating Battalion Unknown Letter
743rd Railway Operating Battalion Unknown Letter
Dearest
I am taking this opportunity to write you as much as I can think of at the
moment about my trip overseas and what we have been doing since our arrival
in the ETO.
To begin with, we loaded into troop trains at Camp Robinson on September 14,
1944, and on the afternoon of September 16 we landed at the god-forsaken hole
of Camp Shanks. I don't care if I never see that place again. We were told
that we had been alerted before the train arrived, so we didn't get into the
big city. We worked until the wee hours of every morning getting things in
shape to set sail-and on the evening of the 19th we loaded up into a New York
Central train that carried us down to the ferry landing. The ferry carried us
for a good ride up the bay, and from the boat we could see the beautiful
skyline of the greatest city in the world. It was a most encouraging sight to
know that we would have that to greet us on our return; and now that we have
seen so much death and destruction as a result of the ravages of war, that
sight is even more vivid in our minds. Long live America!
After having landed on Staten Island we were greeted by the most mother-
like Red Cross women I've ever seen. They had doughnuts, coffee, candy –
anything almost that one would want. They were certainly a lovely sight in
their spotless uniforms, carrying the different items in large wicker
baskets. Just another thing to remind us of the wonderful place we were
leaving behind. A special service orchestra was on hand playing all the old
familiar tunes as we awaited the signal to load up.
We closely resembled pack-horses when we stepped off the ferry with a full
field pack, rifle belt to which was attached a first-aid pack and full
canteen of water, our rifle, and on top of all that a duffel bag (about 5
feet tall and seemingly that big around) in which was packed all our personal
belongings. If you don't think that is a load, try it sometime! At 9:45PM the
19th up we went on the gang plank wagging all that into the huge liner, the
USS Uruguay, which had been converted from a one-time luxurious ocean liner
of the Moor-McCormack Lines to a badly overcrowded troop transport. At 10:00
AM September 20 the big tub eased out into the harbor, and we caught our last
glimpse of the land we loved so dearly.
Our trip across the ocean was as uneventful as any ocean voyage in peace-
time, except that we did have a sub scare one night and lost some time zig-
zagging to get out of his path. We had everything one could ask for on the
boat. Our meals (only two a day) were not the best in the world, but were all
you'd want on a galloping boat - or rather all that it was safe to eat. There
was a PX aboard where one could buy solid cartons of candy (even Hershey bars
with almonds), peanuts, etc., at greatly reduced prices. We had church
services every day. We were allowed on the outer decks during daylight hours,
and there was always lots of fun out there. All the boys who had musical
instruments would get together for a jam session - there were crap games
galore for those who wanted to take a chance-and many boys were just reading
or enjoying the ocean scenery, which, I must admit, was simply beautiful.
The bunks inside the ship were tour-deep, in order to crowd just as many""
men as possible on one ship. At night it would get so hot you could hardly
sleep-and the aroma from all the sweat wasn't anything too pleasant. We were
always glad to hear when blackout restrictions were lifted after daylight so
we could open the windows and get some fresh air. Aside from that, the trip
was as pleasant as it could be. On the afternoon of September 30 we first
sighted land, and on the morning of Sunday, October 1, we could easily see
Ireland on one side of the boat. At that time we were anchored off the coast
of England, and not long after noon we pulled into the port of Liverpool.
At 7:30PM we first set foot on England. It was sleeting when we first got off
the boat; however, by the time the men were made into a formation and we
started marching up the streets of Liverpool toward the railroad station, it
was fairly clear and the moon was shining. After we boarded the passenger
train that was fairly clear and shining after we boarded the passenger train
that was waiting for us, the Red Cross was right there again with delicious
hot coffee and doughnuts. It seems they always knew just when we needed them!
We pulled out of Liverpool at 9:05 PM, and after a time spent in adjusting
ourselves in the compartment we were in, riding in typical British passenger
compartment cars, we decided to get a little shuteye, never knowing what was
in store for us the following day.
Our C Company left us on October 5 and the following day landed on the Omaha
Beach in France, where only four months previously so many of our boys paid
the supreme price to establish a beachhead that started the Germans on the
road to defeat. The following two months found our engineers, firemen,
conductors and, brakemen hauling trains from Cherbourg right up to the
fighting fronts. Crews would be out on a "trip" for as much as a week at the
time without relief. Any of our C Company boys can, tell you of many
thrilling experiences and narrow escapes encountered while they were running
trains in France.
In the meantime, it seemed that the balance of, the battalion were never
going to get to a decent place in England - but finally on October 13 we were
loaded onto a passenger train in Southampton and moved to a little English
village named Street, not far from Glastonbury. We arrived in Street about
3:00PM and marched to one of the camps that had been used by our troops prior
to D-Day while they were awaiting the invasion. There we had 'a swell setup -
a nice camp - and we were the only GIs in the town, which made it wonderful.
The British people all seemed extremely nice to us, and we were in hopes that
we would spend the duration right there. However, two days was the extent of
that - and on Sunday, October 15, we pulled out of Street at 11:00AM headed
for Southampton again, where we got off the train at 1:30PM and marched to
the docks. We sat around there all afternoon awaiting orders - but, once
again, were cheered up by, the Red Cross girls with their coffee and
doughnuts. After feasting on that we boarded LCIs (Landing Craft Infantry) a
small ocean-going vessel that is, frankly, rough as hell.
Unfortunately, it was the time of the year for gales and rough waters in
the English Channel. We didn't move at all until 10:15AM October 17, when we
started out for Southampton for destination unknown. About half way across
the channel the skipper decided the little tub just wouldn't take it, and
turned back to England. Nightfall found us right back where we started from -
and four boats full of mighty sick boys. Honestly, it was the roughest trip
one could imagine. At 9:15AM October 21 we again attempted to get across that
pond, and this time were successful. About 7:00PM we dropped anchor just off
the coast of France, and there we spent the night. During the night, however,
the LCI pulled up to shore in high tide, and early the next morning we found
our vessel completely out of the water on a sand bank, the tide being out.
Ramps were lowered on each side of the boat, and by 6:45AM we had all left
the ships, unloading on the Utah beach.
Our first impression of France wasn't any too good. We had a long hard march
in mud more than ankle deep, for several miles - and were stunned -to learn
that in a wide open field, filled with nothing but oodles of mud, we were to
spend several days. Pup tents were pitched as best they could, and meals were
served out in the open. The hot coffee was about all that saved us! The only
pleasant memory we have of that place is that it was there we had our first
mail call since leaving home. A great deal of the 'mail was received the
second day we were there, and, naturally, that made all of us feel much
better.
Finally, around 7:00PM the train was on its way, and we were off on our
first hobo trip. From this trip we gained our first knowledge of what real
war had meant to France. Building after building was completely demolished.
Locomotives, cars and tracks all along the route were destroyed. Caen and
Argentan were perhaps the worst hit cities that we saw - but they were
virtually a complete wreck.
On this trip we saw many of our C Company boys busily engaged in hauling
trains of supplies, double headed, usually, with GI 2-8-0 engines, and
hospital trains. On the morning of October 26 we came within the city limits
of Paris, butwe were gypped out of a ride through the city and went
completely around it to our destination, Beauvais. There we were given the
mission of operating the railroad from Creil to LaHavre, through Beauvais. We
set up battalion headquarters, but very few of the men had a chance to get
out on the road before our assignment was changed and we found ourselves
again loading into those lovable box cars, This time, though we were not so
badly crowded, loading about 16 to the car, and were able to pick out some
nice USA box cars that were much cleaner and better to ride, in. at
About the first thing we heard upon our arrival was that buzz bombs were
being sent against Antwerp by the Germans, and had been coming in at the rate
of three or four a day for about a week. We spent the first night in the
cars, and not long after dark the air-raid siren went off. Although we had
seen a V-I buzz off in the distance while we were standing at a little town
called Muizan that afternoon, the one that came over after that warning was
our first real good look at one - and, too, they looked much worse at night,
with their tail of fire behind them than they did on a bright day. Never
having had any experiences with things of that sort, we were plenty scared,
and many of the boys would get up every time the siren went off that night,
others figuring that they were as safe one place as another chose to remain
in the cars.
We moved on Armistice Day to an old German camp located several miles north
of the city. It was a beautiful place, and there was a chateau there that
must have cost millions. The Germans badly damaged it before they pulled out,
however, and we were not able to make use of the buildings We soon learned
that we wouldn't be able to do any railroading with the men so far from the
railroad. So on the 17th of November we all moved back into town, and each
company was billeted in a school building, where we sweated out many a buzz
or rocket bomb. Early in December our C Company left the railroads in France,
after making an enviable record, and came to Antwerp to rejoin the other
companies.
Shortly after we arrived Hitler started sending over big V-2 rocket bombs in
addition to the V:l buz-bombs, and Antwerp turned out to be just about as
dangerous a place as existed in the ETO.
The V-ls were much the worse on a fellows nerves, as they had a motor and you
could hear them coming Many times you would 'see them go over, but there were
also lots of times when, you would hear them cutout and fall before they got
very close to you. When you would hear them cut off anywhere, you were eager
to hear the explosion, because they could glide and you never knew you were
safe until you heard the explosion and knew for sure that you were going to
be there to sweat out the next one. One bomb contained a ton of TNT and could
do an awful lot of damage; for instance, one of them could completely
demolish a good-sized apartment building, and a lucky hit on anyone of the
school buildings in which we were billeted would have left nothing but a big
pile of, rubbish.
The V-2 bombs, on the other hand, traveled faster than sound. They were fired
into the air sixty miles, scientists claim, and would then fall through
space, also carrying a ton of TNT to someone for a lot of death and
destruction. They would come down so fast they would bury themselves and blow
everything upward-hence the range of their destruction was not as great as
the V-I. The way theV-2s were explained to us by a Canadian soldier who
worked with parts of them found after they went off is that they were fired
into the air for sixty miles, and would start down through the stratosphere
at a rate of 7000 miles per hour, being automatically reduced to 4000 miles
an hour when it struck the air - and the friction caused by the sudden great
reduction in speed made them red hot when they landedoV-2s always had an
explosion in the air before striking its target, when, of course, another
loud charge was heard. It was nothing unusual to find shrapnel from them with
i~e on it, at the same time finding some so hot you couldn't pick it up.
On December 12 a V-2 struck the brick street in the middle of the main
thoroughfare at noontime, much destruction resulting, as the blast affected
every-thing within a two square block area. Many people were killed, the
majority as the result of injuries sustained from flying glass in street
cars, from windows, etc. On Saturday afternoon, December l6s a V-2 landed in
the Rex Theater, one of Antwerp's largest, killing 567 and injuring 291, and
making the movie house a complete wreck. It took more than a week to remove
the bodies. One of our own boys was in the theater at the time it was struck,
and miraculously was spared while everyone around him was killed. Another one
of our boys was killed. On the afternoon of January 5 a V-l landed within 150
yards of battalion headquarters, in the center of a park in front of Central
Station. Our office was wrecked, all the windows being broken, chairs and
desks turned over, etc., and five members of the headquarters personnel
received Purple Heart awards as result of injuries sustained. The worst
incident involving personnel of our unit was aV-2 in the dock area that
resulted in the death of three members of our A Company. There isn't a single
member of the unit who didn't have a narrow escape at, the hands of the pilot
less missiles. Headquarters Company, engaged in operating battalion
headquarters, furnishing the dispatching force and operators, as well as the
cooks in each company, had one fatality and 11 Purple Hearts. A Company who
had three men killed and received 50 Purple Heart awards, assisted in the
installation and maintenance of tracks and bridges in the vast network of
track age in the Antwerp area. B Company, in addition to maintaining the
steam and Diesel engines we used; assisted in the unloading and processing of
several hundred new steam and diesel engines sent over from the States, and
assembled the first 1000-hpDiesel locomotive in the ETO; this company has 16
Purple Heart awards. The company that furnished the trainmen and enginemen,
our C Company, has lost three men and received 8 Purple Hearts. Our Dental
Officer was killed by a V-2.
The last buzz bomb fell in the city of Antwerp on March 27, 1945, and we had
only gotten back to the point where we breathed naturally again when we were
"uprooted from our old ETO home” and sent on a new assignment in Germany. C
Company, and the operators from Headquarters Company, were transported by
truck ahead of the balance of the battalion. On the morning of May 7, the
trains transporting the other companies to their new location pulled out of
North Yard at Antwerp. From the train the boys gained their last glimpse of
the dome of Central Station, where we once had our headquarters; the stately
skyscraper, which is claimed to be the tallest civil building in Europe; and
the countless number of church steeples that jotted the skyline of the city
we had learned to love in spite of the dangers it had been exposed to during
our stay there. I don't think anyone of our men will deny that he actually
hated to see that skyline fade in the distance as the train pulled away.
The troop train traveled south out of Antwerp into Liege, Belgium, and then
out of Belgium into Holland, where it all but reversed its direction,
startingnorth ward through Maastricht, Holland, toward the Rhine River bridge
at Wesel,which was the only one in use at that time. It crossed the Ruhr
River at Roermond, Germany, which was the first glimpse of Germany our boys
had. From that very first city it was plainly obvious that our boys in the
air as well as on the ground had done a good job of bringing to the
"supermen" genuine destruction.
At Wesel, that river that has made history so many times - the swift-flowing,
but beautiful, Rhine was crossed by the train on the bridge that our
engineers had constructed in the record time of 11 days. Slowly, but surely,
it traveled on through Munster and down to Hamm, where we spent the night of
May 9th; then the following morning our trains found their way through the
great industrial Ruhr Valley into Herne, Germany, our new "home" Our B
Company, however, remained at Hamm to operate the roundhouse at that point.
One of the most interesting things we saw on this trip was a German PW
enclosure near the bridge at Wesel, filled almost to overflowing with
conquered Jerries. Some of them were being loaded onto flat cars and coal
cars, which was the manner, in which they were always transported o If they
could but have gotten a glimpse of the inside of the box cars in which we
were riding, with double bunks, six men to the car, hot meals enroute, etc.,
I am sure they would have been forcibly reminded of just what suckers they
had been in following that sap, Hitler. About 2:30PM May 8,1945, we managed
to understand enough of the German language to learn that the Germans had
unconditionally surrendered and that the thing we had all been hoping and
praying for so long - the end of the war in Europe - was now a glowing
reality. I am sure that Admiral Doenitz, learning that the 743rd was as far
inland as Munster, knew the jig was up and gave up without further
hostilities.
Munster was hit very hard, but I believe the greatest destruction. We saw at
anyone place was the industrial city of Dortmund, which, without a doubt, was
95%destroyed. Everywhere the railroad yards were hit, and hit hard Tracks
would be standing straight up in the air, locomotives and cars wrecked, and
at many places we would do good to find two main tracks to get through on
Herne was in peace time a city of some 93,000 population, and had not been so
hard hit as some other places o Even though it was in the Ruhr Valley, about
the only industries located there were a couple of coal mines, and bombs
didn't affect them too much. We were told there that we could expect another
move within a short time, and it was therefore decided 'best to remain in the
box cars. They were spotted along the station platform, and our stay there
wasn't too uncomfortable. The engineers, incidentally, made still a better
record on the steel bridge they erected over the Rhine between Rheinhausen
and Duisburg in the short space of five days.
That bridge they named "Victory Bridge", and it was our privilege to operate
the first train across the bridge o A trainload of coal, forty cars, pulled
by a large German 2-10-0 locomotive, eased across the bridge at 10:00AMthe
morning of May 12, with none other than our own CO, Lt. Col. Frank G. Cook,
at the throttle. Several Generals and other brass were on hand at the
ceremony our assignment while at Herne was the operation of the RUHR
DIVISION, which had just been opened between Hamm and Munchen, Gladbach. Our
job was to get all the captured equipment, loads and empty cars, off the
division and into allied ports where they were so badly needed The best day
we had was when we operated25 trains across the new bridge at Duisburg.
Surprisingly, we found the German civilians well dressed and apparently not
hurting from lack of food while we couldn't associate with them, they all
appeared to want to be friendly, and in business dealings with' them they
were quick to inform us that they were strictly anti-Nazi (which was. only
the natural thing to say, I suppose), but they simply couldn't be trusted
and, of course, we had no way of knowing whether they were telling the truth
or not. The women all were nicely clothed, and even wore silk stockings,
which just weren't seen in Belgium The country itself would remind you a lot
of the States in terrain and. scenic beauty with its streams and rolling
countryside, and the vast farmlands that were every-I where adjacent ,to the
railroad right of way. It goes without saying, though, that in the minds of
everyone of us, no place on earth could even begin to equal our own United
States.
On June 6 that rumor from stool No.4 blossomed into a reality - we were
going back to Antwerp, and at 6 PM the 7th we pulled out of Letter enroute to
our old buzz-bomb alley. We followed practically the same route on the return
trip a son the previous trip except that we returned via the Duisburg Bridge
instead of over the Wesel bridge. As the train transporting Headquarters
Company was leaving Munchen Gladbach on the morning of June 9 one of the cars
in the train in which some cooks were riding left the rails, and before the
train had stopped that car had turned over on its side, and had pulled the
following four cars off the track. Fortunately, no one was injured seriously
- the worst hurt being our Executive Officer, Major Rust, who jumped from the
kitchen car as it sideswiped a cut of cars on an adjacent track, and he
suffered a sprained ankle.
Our last memory of Germany is the fields of poppies that lined the right of
way. To me it seemed rather phenomenal that those fields of red poppies were
mingled with blue "range robins" and white shasta daisies - - with those
three dynamic colors proudly raising their heads as a constant reminder to
the German people that discord with the people who live under those colors
can only lead to the death, destruction and complete defeat in which they now
live.
Now we are back in Antwerp on our old assignment. Billets are no longer
available, and most of us are still living in the railroad cars we acquired
in Germany and which we have made quite livable. Quite a few are stationed in
tents at Camp Beven, located at Antwerp North Yard. We now have a new
Commanding Officer, Major Charles E. Breternitz, and are all enjoying life as
much as could be expected so many miles from home. Now that the atomic bomb
has set the rising sun, we have high hopes of a quick return to the land of
"milk and honey". The record we made in delivering the goods to our buddies
on the front lines we leave behind us as a standing memorial to those eight
men in our unit who so bravely gave their lives to make
that record possible and May God rest their souls!
Sincerely,