General Wingate's Chindits - The WWII Burma Theatre Guerilla Force

Upon the beginning of Japan’s China-Burma campaign, just prior to the US entry into World War II, the British Government sent Maj. Gen. Orde Wingate to India to employ his experience as a guerrilla fighter and organize what became known as the Chindits—a brigade of specially trained Gurkha (Nepalese), Burmese and British troops.

Wingate was no stranger to Guerilla Warfare or working with indigenous troops.  He was a graduate of the Royal Military Academy, and a well known eccentric who both quoted the Bible and advocated irregular warfare tactics. His career as a guerrilla fighter began as he organized Jewish underground patrols to beat back Arab raids in British-controlled Palestine in the 1930s. In 1941, Wingate led a mixed Ethiopian and Sudanese force in retaking Addis Ababa, the capital of Ethiopia, from the Italians, who had invaded in 1935.

The Chindits were composed of two units of Long Range Penetration Groups, each made up of men-and mules. Wingate and his brigade entered Japanese-controlled Burma from the west, crossed the Chindwin River, and proceeded with sabotage activity: sneakily penetrating Japanese-held territory, attacking supply lines, and cutting communications. Once in the field, the Chindits were cut off from other units and could be supplied only by airdrops.

One of the most effective Chindit attacks was against the Mandalay-Myitkina railway, when they blew up three bridges while also beating back Japanese troops determined to stop the demolitions. The Chindits continued to wreak havoc–at one point killing 100 Japanese soldiers while suffering only one loss themselves–until a lack of supplies and troublesome terrain forced them back to India.

On the night of 24 March 1944, General Wingate boarded a transport plane at the Broadway Base in Burma, destined for India. The pilot had complained earlier about the performance of one of the plane’s twin engines, but after Wingate talked with the aircrew, a decision was made to take off. The plane crashed in what is now Manipur in northeast India. The crash was so violent that virtually none of Wingate’s remains were found.

British Prime Minister Winston Churchill eulogized Wingate before the House of Commons that August: “There was a man of genius who might well have become also a man of destiny. He has gone, but his spirit lives on in the long range penetration groups, and has underlain all these intricate and daring air operations and military operations based on air transport and on air supply.”

Special Operations legend John Singlaub has died at the age of 100

Retired Army Maj. Gen. John Singlaub, a decorated veteran of World War II, Korea, and Vietnam, and legendary special operator, died Jan. 29 at the age of 100.

Singlaub, a native of Independence, California, commissioned as a U.S Army infantry 2nd lieutenant. Following his graduation from the University of California Los Angeles in 1943. according to the Sandboxx military news website, Singlaub was quickly recruited by the Office of Strategic Services, the precursor to both the Central Intelligence Agency and U.S. Army Special Forces.

Will Irwin, a retired Army lieutenant colonel and author of “The Jedburghs: The Secret History of the Allied Special Forces, France 1944,” told Military Times that Singlaub parachuted behind German lines in Southern France as part of the OSS’ “Project Jedburgh.”

According to U.S. Army Special Operations Command, Singlaub was one of only 83 Americans selected for the program, along with 90 British, 103 French, 5 Belgian, and 5 Dutch operatives. Jedburgh operatives, working in teams no larger than four men or women, helped organize French resistance while also providing intelligence on and harassment of German lines of communication. Ultimately, Singlaub’s efforts helped Allied forces break out of Normandy during the summer of 1944.

Following the surrender of Germany in May 1945, Singlaub was transferred to the Pacific theater to continue OSS operations. On Aug. 27, 1945, Singlaub parachuted with an eight-man team onto the Chinese island of Hainan, where they rescued hundreds of Dutch and Australian prisoners of war. Following the surrender of Japan, Singlaub remained in the Pacific, continuing to report on the Chinese civil war.

In 1951, Singlaub, now a major, was again off to war in Korea. According to the Army Special Operations Forces Command Historian, From 1951-52, Singlaub served as the Deputy Commander and Chief of Staff of the Joint Advisory Commission, Korea. “JACK,” as it was known, represented the first time the CIA formed its first Clandestine Services field mission. In addition to recovering downed pilots, the shadowy organization attempted to replicate aspects of the OSS mission during the Second World War. After his tour with JACK, Singlaub commanded a conventional infantry battalion in Korea, where he was awarded the Silver Star for valor.

According to Sandboxx, in 1966, Singlaub once again returned to leading unconventional warfighters when he was selected to lead the Military Assistance Command Vietnam-Studies and Observation Group.

Commonly known as MACV-SOG or simply “SOG,” Singlaub was tasked with leading an organization comprised of special operators from all military branches as they fought North Vietnamese communist guerillas in both Vietnam and neighboring countries. A significant target of SOG was the Ho Chi Minh trail. This communist supply line existed mainly outside of Vietnam, thus technically off-limits according to the rules of engagement of the day. “As Chief SOG Jack fought the bureaucracy to get close air support for SOG teams. He fought with the State Dept. to have our teams better armed in Cambodia in the early days of the operation,” John Stryker Meyer, a SOG veteran, and Green Beret, told Sandboxx News. “He always cared deeply about the men who served under him.”

Irwin echoed Meyer’s comments about Singlaub’s dedication to those he served alongside. According to Irwin, in 1988, he received a call from Singlaub regarding Singlaub’s South Vietnamese counterpart from his time in SOG. After the war, the former South Vietnamese officer had settled in Los Angeles, California, and had lost his house to a fire. “[The RVN Officer] had lost everything,” Irwin told Military Times. “And one thing he lost that he cherished was his yearbook from the Command General Staff College.” Irwin found a replacement for Singlaub, and the gesture was symbolic of the kind of person, and leader Singlaub was. “It just struck me at the time how much he valued that relationship,” Irwin said.

Singlaub’s last command in the Army was as chief of staff of U.S. Army forces in South Korea. In 1977 he was relieved from this position after publicly criticizing then-President Jimmy Carter’s proposal to withdraw U.S. troops from Korea.

Over his career Singlaub received two Distinguished Service Medals, the Silver Star, two Legion of Merit, two Bronze Stars, the Soldier’s Medal, two Purple Hearts, two Bronze Star Medals, the Air Medal, the Combat Infantryman’s Badge, the Master Parachutist Badge and the Army Aviation Badge.

In 2006, Singlaub was inducted into the U.S. Army Ranger Hall of Fame, and in 2007 he was made a Distinguished Member of the Special Forces Regiment. In 2016, the U.S. Army Special Operations Command (USASOC) established the MG John K. Singlaub/Jedburgh Award to recognize exceptional members of the Army commando community.

Article from the Army Times

Joe Medicine Crow, The Last Plains War Chief Who Fought The Nazis During World War II

Born in 1913 on the Crow Reservation in Montana, Joseph Medicine Crow was raised in his people’s warrior tradition — which he put to good use while serving in France and Germany. And when Joe Medicine Crow died in 2016, he was the last living Plains Indian war chief, ending a tradition that stretched back hundreds of years.

Becoming a war chief was not easy — and even less so after the U.S. government had all but eradicated the Indigenous way of life on the Great Plains. The feat required passing four tests, including touching a living enemy, stealing an enemy’s weapon, and successfully leading a war party. Finally, a person had to sneak into an enemy camp to steal a horse.

Generations of men passed this test and became war chiefs. But the last feat became all but impossible as Native Americans were forced onto reservations and horses slowly disappeared from the battlefield in the 20th century. And yet Joe Medicine Crow managed to accomplish all four tasks almost by accident, and in a place few members of the Crow Nation had ever visited. He earned the honor fighting Nazis in Germany with the U.S. Army.

Born on the Crow Reservation in Montana in 1913, Joe Medicine Crow learned the traditions of the Crow Nation from an early age. His grandfather, White Man Runs Him, had been a scout for General Custer prior to the Battle of Little Bighorn. His other grandfather, Chief Medicine Crow, was a revered war hero. Joe grew up hearing stories about Crow warriors. He learned to ride horses bareback, survive the harsh Montana winters, and hunt game. Joe also heard how his ancestors had become celebrated warriors and war chiefs.

As he grew older, his tribe’s history inspired Medicine Crow to study history and anthropology in college. And in 1939, he became the first member of the Crow Nation to earn a master’s degree. But on his way to a doctorate, Medicine Crow left the University of Southern California to volunteer for the Army. Joe Medicine Crow came from a long line of Crow scouts. The Army recognized his skills and assigned Joe to scout for the 103rd Infantry Division in 1943. And by the end of 1944, he was in France, pushing the Nazis back to Germany.

Before battles, Joe Medicine Crow painted two red war stripes on his arms in the Crow tradition, hidden under his uniform. He also carried a yellow eagle feather into battle. The sacred feather came from a Sun Dance medicine man. Fighting across France, it seemed unlikely that Joe Medicine Crow could pass every test to become a war chief. But somehow, he did.

During a raid in a small French town, Joe found himself alone in an alley with a German soldier. Medicine Crow used his rifle to knock the German’s gun to the ground, thus taking a weapon from an enemy. He was also able to take the German as a prisoner of war, touching a living enemy.

As an infantry soldier, Joe rarely led missions. But during a dangerous moment when German soldiers surrounded Joe’s company, his commanding officer put Joe in charge. He had to brave land mines, enemy fire, and overwhelming numbers of enemy soldiers to bring ammunition back to his company. Joe Medicine Crow took on the challenge and successfully led seven men in the mission, saving the company. At that point, Joe had completed three of the steps to become a war chief. But how was he going to steal horses from the Nazis?

Horses and modern warfare seem incompatible. The rules for becoming a Plains war chief had been created for a different type of battle than American troops faced on the front lines of World War II. But even modern armies relied on horses to transport artillery and in cavalry units. And although the Nazi army was famously mechanized, some companies still relied on horses because of their limited access to oil.

During the chaotic German retreat in the war’s final days, Medicine Crow tracked Nazi SS troops fleeing on horseback. The loud clopping on the road made it easy for Joe to follow the men. “We followed their trail in the moonlight and arrived at a villa,” Joe recalled. “We came there and found a little pasture with a barn.” Joe’s company surrounded the barn in the early morning hours, ready to attack — until Joe came up with an idea for the horses.

He told his commanding officer, “Maybe I should get those horses out of the corral before you attack, because some of those SS guys might be able to escape on them.” With his commanding officer’s consent, Joe snuck toward the corral. He quickly created a bridle from a short rope, the same way Crow warriors had done for centuries. And then Joe leaped on a horse and rode away, creating a stampede of 50 more horses and causing chaos in the Nazi ranks. And just as Joe made it out of firing range, his Army division started launching artillery shells.

As Joe Medicine Crow rode back to his camp, he began singing a Crow praise song. “I sang this song a little bit and rode around the horses,” Joe said. “The horses looked at me. Finally, I left them in the woods.” By the time Joe returned to the farmhouse, the Germans had surrendered. Used to covering long miles on his feet, Joe decided to stay on his horse a while. “It was good, better to ride than walk.” But a mile down the road, his commander said, “You better get off. You make too good a target.”

When Joe Medicine Crow returned home after the war, the elders named him a war chief. Joe Medicine Crow became a war chief for the Crow. He also earned a Bronze Star and the French Legion of Honor for his service. In 1948, Joe became the official Crow Nation historian and anthropologist. He taught younger generations about the Battle of Little Bighorn and Crow traditions. He even wrote the script for reenactments of the Battle of Little Bighorn that is still used today. And it’s based on oral histories he was told as a child.

And in 2009, President Barack Obama awarded him the Medal of Freedom. Then 95 years old, Joe Medicine Crow performed a ceremonial dance after receiving the medal. Joe died in 2016 at the age of 102.

To this day, the only other Crow soldier who has come close to achieving the four feats of valor necessary to become a war chief is Joe Medicine Crow’s nephew. During the Vietnam War, Carson Walks Over Ice served as a Green Beret and managed three requirements. But he was unable to snag a horse. “I did get two elephants, and that should have counted for something,” Carson Walks Over Ice said. “But the elders did not see it my way.”

Article from All That is Interesting

Remembering Freedom Fighter Lepa Radić

Lepa Radić, born 19 December 1925, was a Yugoslav Partisan of Serb origin who fought for the resistance against the Germans occupying her country during World War II. She joined the Communist Party at age 15, and after being captured then escaping secret police custofy she joined the 7th company, 2nd Krajiški Detachment fighting an unconventional war against the German's and their quisling allies.

She was captured again while transporting wounded partisans and tourtured for information. Apparently the German's exploitation of her in captivity was fruitless. She was executed on 8 Februaury 1943 at the age of 17 for the "crime" of shooting at German troops. As her captors tied the noose around her neck, they offered her a way out of the gallows by revealing her comrades' and leaders' identities. She responded that she was not a traitor and that her comrades would reveal themselves when they avenged her death.

Reportedly, with the noose around her neck, she cried out: "Long live the Communist Party, and partisans! Fight, people, for your freedom! Do not surrender to the evildoers! I will be killed, but there are those who will avenge me!" In her last moments at the scaffold, the Germans offered to spare her life, in return for the names of the Communist Party leaders and members in the shelter, but she refused their offer with the words: "I am not a traitor of my people. Those whom you are asking about will reveal themselves when they have succeeded in wiping out all you evildoers, to the last man."

Lepa Radić was awarded the Order of the People's Hero in 1951 for her role in the resistance movement against the Axis powers in the Second World War—becoming the youngest recipient at the time. Even though she was an avowed communicst, one was marvel at the courage and conviction of anyone let alone a young teenage girl when facing a horrific death by hanging.

OSS Influence on Early US Special Forces

In 2018, The USASOC History Office published an article stating that a ‘grossly disproportionate share of the pioneering influence’ was incorrectly attributed to veterans of the Office of Strategic Services (OSS) who joined early Special Forces. After comparing personnel lists, USASOC History Office concluded that only 14 members of the OSS actually served in Special Forces and that their contribution was not as great as has been described over the years. David Maxwell, who criticized this study, also noted that the list failed to include Robert McDowell, who served with the OSS in Yugoslavia. In 2019, Jelle Hooiveld published an article in Small Wars Journal about the legendary OSS, Special Forces and CIA Officer Lucien Conein, whose contribution to the build-up of early Special Forces wasn’t mentioned either. Now, yet another name has come up: Jack Sands Jr., who served as a lieutenant colonel in the OSS and became a senior adviser to the staff of the 10th Special Forces Group in the mid-fifties.

Oliver Jackson Sands Jr. was born on 9 October, 1905. He was educated at Princeton University and Harvard University and initially served with the Field Artillery (U.S. Army Reserve). Sands later became Assistant Deputy Director of the OSS and attained the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. After the abolishment of the OSS, Sands joined the Central Intelligence Group (CIG) but also remained active as a reserve officer. During the early 1950s, Sands served as Chief, Operations Coordination Branch and Executive Officer of the Psychological Staff Division of the CIA. In the mid-fifties, Sands was transferred to the Western European theatre. By now, Sands was also a full Army Reserve colonel.

Between 1956 and 1959, while working for the CIA, he served as a so called ‘Military Staff Agent’ and was appointed Director, J-2 Division of the Headquarters of Support Operations Task Force Europe (SOTFE). HQ SOTFE was organized under the direction of the Joint Chiefs of Staff as a joint task force. It was composed of Army and CIA personnel for the conduct of Unconventional Warfare throughout the area of responsibility of the Commander in Chief in Europe.

During this period, Sands also acted as a senior adviser to the Commanding Officer, 10th Special Forces Group (Airborne) on all CIA matters pertaining to Operations, Intelligence and Support. According to his owns statements, Sands also held ‘numerous formal and informal conferences’ with officers of the 10th SFG on subjects of tradecraft and tactics and techniques developed or practiced by the CIA that were of interest to Special Forces. In addition, Sands reviewed and advised the 10th SFG in regard to the training programs of its personnel. Furthermore, Sands acted as a liaison between the CIA and 10th SFG regarding mutual areas of interest on the development of new techniques and new equipment. In acknowledgement of his contributions, Colonel Sands was made an honorary member of the 10th SFG.

Throughout his life, Sands remained proud of his OSS roots. During an eighties reunion, Sands referred to his former OSS colleagues as the ‘greatest collection of people […] in the history of the world’. Summing up: this article has shown that at least three OSS veterans who significantly impacted and influenced early Special Forces, weren’t included in USASOC History Office’s study. Who else is missing?

Article from the Small Wars Journal

April 11th, 1945 - Buchenwald Concentration Camp Liberated

On April 11, 1945, the American Third Army liberates the Buchenwald concentration camp, near Weimar, Germany, a camp that will be judged second only to Auschwitz in the horrors it imposed on its prisoners. Buchenwald was a Nazi concentration camp established on Ettersberg hill near Weimar, Germany, in July 1937. It was one of the first and the largest of the concentration camps within Germany's 1937 borders. Many actual or suspected communists were among the first internees.

As American forces closed in on the Nazi concentration camp at Buchenwald, Gestapo headquarters at Weimar telephoned the camp administration to announce that it was sending explosives to blow up any evidence of the camp–including its inmates. What the Gestapo did not know was that the camp administrators had already fled in fear of the Allies. A prisoner answered the phone and informed headquarters that explosives would not be needed, as the camp had already been blown up, which, of course, was not true.

The camp held thousands of prisoners, mostly slave laborers. There were no gas chambers, but hundreds, sometimes thousands, died monthly from disease, malnutrition, beatings and executions. The insufficient food and poor conditions, as well as deliberate executions, led to 56,545 deaths at Buchenwald of the 280,000 prisoners who passed through the camp and its satellite camps.

Doctors performed medical experiments on inmates, testing the effects of viral infections and vaccines. Among the camp’s most gruesome characters was Ilse Koch, wife of the camp commandant, who was infamous for her sadism. She often beat prisoners with a riding crop, and collected lampshades, book covers and gloves made from the skin of camp victims.

After liberation came Soviet occupation and from August 1945 to March 1950, the camp was used by the Soviet NKVD as a prison that housed 28,455 prisoners which a reported 7,113 died, likely from physical abuse, malnutiriton and lack of medical care.

Anniversary of the Battle of the Bulge - 16 December 1944

The Battle of the Bulge was a major German offensive campaign on the Western Front during World War II, and took place from 16 December 1944 to 25 January 1945. It was launched through the densely forested Ardennes region in eastern Belgium, northeast France, and Luxembourg, towards the end of the war in Europe. The offensive was intended to stop Allied use of the Belgian port of Antwerp and to split the Allied lines, allowing the Germans to encircle and destroy four Allied armies and force the Western Allies to negotiate a peace treaty in the Axis powers' favor.

The Germans achieved a total surprise attack on the morning of 16 December 1944, due to a combination of Allied overconfidence, preoccupation with Allied offensive plans, and poor aerial reconnaissance due to bad weather. American forces bore the brunt of the attack and incurred their highest casualties of any operation during the war. The battle also severely depleted Germany's armored forces, and they were largely unable to replace them. German personnel and, later, Luftwaffe aircraft also sustained heavy losses.

The Germans had attacked a weakly defended section of the Allied line, taking advantage of heavily overcast weather conditions that grounded the Allies' overwhelmingly superior air forces. Fierce resistance on the northern shoulder of the offensive, around Elsenborn Ridge, and in the south, around Bastogne, blocked German access to key roads to the northwest and west that they counted on for success. Columns of armor and infantry that were supposed to advance along parallel routes found themselves on the same roads. This, and terrain that favored the defenders, threw the German advance behind schedule and allowed the Allies to reinforce the thinly placed troops. The farthest west the offensive reached was the village of Foy-Nôtre-Dame, south east of Dinant, being stopped by the U.S. 2nd Armored Division on 24 December 1944.

Improved weather conditions from around 24 December permitted air attacks on German forces and supply lines, which sealed the failure of the offensive. On 26 December the lead element of Patton's U.S. Third Army reached Bastogne from the south, ending the siege. Although the offensive was effectively broken by 27 December, when the trapped units of 2nd Panzer Division made two break-out attempts with only partial success, the battle continued for another month before the front line was effectively restored to its position prior to the attack. In the wake of the defeat, many experienced German units were left severely depleted of men and equipment, as survivors retreated to the defenses of the Siegfried Line.

The Germans' initial attack involved 410,000 men; just over 1,400 tanks, tank destroyers, and assault guns; 2,600 artillery pieces; 1,600 anti-tank guns; and over 1,000 combat aircraft, as well as large numbers of other armored fighting vehicles (AFVs). These were reinforced a couple of weeks later, bringing the offensive's total strength to around 450,000 troops, and 1,500 tanks and assault guns. Between 63,222 and 98,000 of these men were killed, missing, wounded in action, or captured. For the Americans, out of a peak of 610,000 troops, 89,000 became casualties out of which some 19,000 were killed. The "Bulge" was the largest and bloodiest single battle fought by the United States in World War II and the third-deadliest campaign in American history.

Last of the Desert Rats Passes Away at 107 Years of Age

Jimmy Sinclair passed away at the age of 107. Before his death, he had the distinctions of being both the oldest living person in Scotland and the last surviving member of the Desert Rats.

The Desert Rats were the British troops that fought and defeated Erwin Rommel's (the Desert Fox) North Afrika Korps during World War II. Sinclair fought with the Cheshunt Troop of the 1st Regiment Horse Artillery in the 7th Armored Division. His death came just weeks after being celebrated on the 75th anniversary of VE Day.

The First Minister of Scotland, Nicola Sturgeon, called Sinclair “one of the most remarkable people” she had ever met. She went on to say that she was proud to call him friend.

The heads of two different Scottish charities for veterans called Sinclair an “incredible man.” They noted in a joint statement that Sinclair refused to wear his medals received for his service out of solidarity with his comrades who did not survive the war.

Sinclair was born in 1912. His mother died a month after he was born so he was raised by his grandparents. After school, he began work as a slater. He joined the Territorial Army in 1931 and served with the Newburgh platoon of the Black Watch. World War II began shortly after he married and he joined the Royal Artillery. He received medals for his part in the siege of Tobruk, the battle of El Alamein and assaults on Monte Cassino in Italy. When explaining why that group became known as the Desert Rats, he recalled a time that he held a piece of chocolate in his hand and a rat came out from between the sand bags to take the chocolate and then disappear back into the bags.

He was badly burned at Monte Cassino which left him in the hospital for eight weeks. After his recuperation, he became the driver for Hugo Baring of Baring Bank. After the war, Sinclair played trombone in an acclaimed brass band and worked for the Control Commission in Berlin.

His wife passed before him. He is survived by two children and three grandchildren. Until the end, Sinclair enjoyed a shot of whiskey every evening before bed. When asked the secret to his long life, he responded simply, “Johnny Walker.” He also stressed the need to have a sense of humor and to keep a good attitude at all times.

He maintained a correspondence with Camilla, Duchess of Rothesay, whose father also served in the Desert Rats. She regularly sent letters and photographs to Sinclair. The Duchess called Sinclair “a true one-off,” and praised him for his humility, his kindness and his sense of humor. She went on to say that it was a privilege to have known him.

Sinclair never held a grudge against the Germans saying that the soldiers on both sides did not want to be there. He even began a friendship with Rommel’s son that continued until the junior Rommel’s death in 2013. Sinclair had been the oldest known living man in Scotland since the death of Alf Smith in 2019 (at 111 years old). He was the last surviving Scottish soldier to have served with Field Marshall Montgomery in the 7th Armored Division. His death came just one day before the death of Bob Weighton who was the oldest living man in the UK at the time.



Article from War History Online

Some of the Greatest Generation

This is a very touching video, actually a piece of film that has been made into a video, this is one that is NOT Photo-shopped, it's real.

Notice in the opening shot of the plane landing on the carrier deck the gunner's position is all shot to hell while the pilot's cockpit ahead of it is undamaged. Later on notice the corpsman taking a fingerprint of the deceased gunner, before the film continues, then shows the chaplain saying final prayers, followed by taps, then the sailors push the aircraft and this patriotic airman over the side and watch it sink into the sea.

This is what 18 to 24 year old "boys" were doing from 1942 to 1945. (Half of them not even old enough to vote.)

No safe spaces, no hurtful unthinkable remarks that they couldn't cope with, just dying for their country so the ungrateful, uninformed snowflakes of today could act like fools decades later.

This 2 minute video is pretty moving. Worth your while. "What actually made this country great is ordinary people like this doing extraordinary things."

Final Tribute: PFC Alfred Edwards

For 75 years, US Marine Private First Class Alfred Edwards was unaccounted for following a fierce battle against the Japanese on the island of Betio in the Tarawa Atoll during the Pacific campaign of World War II. Now, he is resting among heroes at Arlington National Cemetery.

Nearly 6,400 Japanese, Koreans, and Americans died in the fighting, mostly on and around the small island of Betio, in the extreme southwest of Tarawa Atoll. US casualties were 1,696 killed in action and 2,101 wounded in action.

The Battle of Tarawa was the first American offensive in the critical central Pacific region. It was also the first time in the Pacific War that the United States had faced serious Japanese opposition to an amphibious landing. Previous landings met little or no initial resistance, but on Tarawa the 4,500 Japanese defenders were well-supplied and well-prepared, and they fought almost to the last man, exacting a heavy toll on the United States Marine Corps. The losses on Tarawa were incurred in just over 4 days of fighting.

All Mexican-American World War II US Army Unit

An original National Guard unit was composed entirely of Mexican-Americans from barrios in Texas. The men who served in the 36th Division, 141st Regiment, 2nd Battalion, Company E were involved in some of most crucial battles of World War II during the Italian Campaign.

The 141st Regiment traces their roots back to the Texas Revolution and is the longest serving unit of the Texas National Guard. The 36th Division or T-Patchers as they were known spearheaded the Allied landing at Salerno Italy. The unit saw action at Mount Rotondo, San Pietro and one of the most controversial and deadliest battles of WWII, the crossing of the Rapido River. In a span of forty-eight hours, the 36th Division lost over two thousand men at the Rapido River in January of 1944. It became so controversial that after the war a congressional hearing was held to see if actions should be taken on those who were in command of a unit that lost so many American lives.

Sgt. Manuel Rivera from El Paso Texas when describing the carnage of the Rapido River crossing stated, “If you didn’t get wounded, if you didn’t get killed, if you weren’t captured then you weren’t at the river.” Sgt. Rivera was wounded during a pre-crossing recon patrol across the Rapido. Only 27 of the 154 men of Company E that crossed the Rapido River returned. The Company Commander, John L. Chapin of El Paso Texas was killed in action leading his men across the Rapido River. In 2000 a new high school in El Paso Texas was opened and named in his honor.

Ramon G. Gutierrez of Del Rio Texas served in Company E as an automatic rifleman for an advanced squad. During the landing at Salerno on September 9, 1943, Gutierrez and his squad were pinned down by enemy tanks and machine gun fire. After witnessing several men wounded and killed, Gutierrez rushed a machine gun nest firing his Browning automatic rifle. Gutierrez was hit in the arm causing him to lose the rifle. He kept advancing on the enemy machine gun nest. He silenced the machine gun nest with a hand grenade killing three enemy soldiers. Gutierrez then leaped into the machine gun emplacement killing the last enemy soldier in hand to hand combat.

For his actions at Salerno, Gutierrez was awarded the Silver Star by the U.S. Army. Gutierrez would become one of only a handful of Americans to be decorated for valor on the battlefield by the Soviet Union during WWII. A Russian observer was at Salerno and was so impressed by the actions of Gutierrez that the Soviet Union would later award the Order of Patriotic War Second Degree to Ramon G. Gutierrez.

When asked why he made the decision to continue to charge the machine gun nest without a rifle Gutierrez replied, “I thought I was going to die that day, so I didn’t care about what happened to me.” He would later see action at Mt.Rotondo, San Pietro, Rapido River, Cassino, and Velletri. Captured on two different occasions he would escape and make it back across Allied lines on each occasion.

Gutierrez returned to the states in July of 1944 and was honorably discharged from the Army. Gutierrez married Consuelo “Connie” Sanchez who had also served in WWII as a Navy Wave. They raised a family in Wichita Falls Texas and San Jose California. Gutierrez passed away at the age of 70 in Wichita Falls.

PFC Gabriel Salazar of El Paso Texas described why he joined the Texas National Guard, “I know only that I wanted to belong to a group of young men whose lives were similar to mine. I knew I could never find such unpredictable experiences at home.” While describing the scene at Alta Villa near Salerno, PFC Salazar stated, “I remember marching up the winding road towards Alta Villa. We could smell the burning flesh of dead Germans who were trapped in their Tiger Tanks. It was the sweet smell of death, rather like chocolate, sweet enough to turn your stomach. I hated the smell of chocolate for a long time after this experience.” Outside of El Paso Texas very little is known about the men who served in one of the most unique and historical U.S. Army units of WWII.

The true story of the men who served in the U.S. Army’s all Mexican-American combat unit is chronicled in the book Patriots from the Barrio.

1st Special Service Force Weapons Table of Equipment

1st Special Service Force (FSSF) Section organization during World War II. The FSSF was a joint American-Canadian unit and the progenitor to American and Canadian Army Special Forces.

The 1st Special Service Force was unique. Forcemen were pulled from both Canadian and American volunteers and integrated with an American Army rank structure and equipment into a brigade-sized formation. The force was special operations capable, and was trained in amphibious, airborne, mountain, and ski operations.

The Forceman section contained significantly more specialists than the standard U.S. Army Rifle Squad, including 3 demolition specialists (sergeants), a radioman, a navigator, and 2 mechanics (Tech 4s). Additionally, there was a light machine gunner (Private First Class) and two rifle grenadiers (Private First Classes). The section was led by a Staff Sergeant.

The light machine gun was typically an M1941 Johnson light machine gun, although they were later substituted by M1918A2 BARs after combat losses. Some sections were supplemented by an M1919A4 Browning light machine gun as like with the regular paratroopers, and the rest of the US Army for that matter, the M1 Garand was the standard service rifle for Forcemen. Each member was issued an M1911A1 semi-automatic pistol and V-42 stiletto combat knife. M1A1 Carbines were primarily issued to officers, support personnel, and weapons crews outside of the section.

Each special service force platoon consisted of two of these sections, a platoon headquarters, and a mortar team.

One Of The Last Living Female WWII Veterans

Ruth “Buttercup” Sparks was 11 when her family made the voyage from Denmark in 1926. For 10 days, the young girl sat in wait for that first look at the New York horizon. Finally, a little over a week since the ship set off, Lady Liberty’s torch pierced up from the horizon and welcomed Sparks to the U.S. There, her family laid their foundations to start a new life as Americans. But Sparks’s journey was far from over and would see her become a celebrated member of the Navy, involved in keeping the country persisting through a dark period in human history. Today, she is one of the last living female WWII veterans.

The U.S. Women Accepted for Volunteer Emergency Service (WAVES) branch recruited women into the Navy during WWII. 1945 saw her officially join the Navy in this capacity. “I was the second class of WAVES,” she recalled. From there, she worked as a mechanic and a secretary. Later, a stern hatred for the snow drew her to request relocation. This set her on the course to Texas. She ended up at Corpus Christi, and it was there that she met her husband.

After meeting her husband, this female WWII veteran moved with him to San Antonio. There, she continued to enjoy the warmth—and the resulting absence of snow—and celebrate birthday after birthday. This Sunday, she turned 104. When asked what her secret was, Sparks cited exercise as a primary factor in her longevity. Though, she added, drinking from time to time was also part of her secret.

Each day brings humanity further from the years that marked WWII and the devastation it wreaked on the world. More and more veterans are being laid to rest as the years pass. Sparks is one of the last living female WWII veterans from this historic time.

American women and the war

Prior to the creation of WAVES, women could only be nurses in the Navy. Because men were needed for intense combat, it became necessary to have other spots filled by women. As a result, females took up support roles, leaving the men available for combat. Like today, such a move towards female involvement in the armed forces had its proponents and opponents alike. This was particularly the case in America, because other countries, though still wrestling with sex-based equality, had women actively fighting opposing forces.

Despite the tricky navigation leading up to WAVES, women in this branch were given full military status. This also provided them with full benefits. Though not directly fighting the Axis, women in WAVES were integral to success against them. Their roles included intelligence agents, aviation instructors, scientists, and engineers. As one of the last living female WWII veterans, Ruth Sparks was a direct contributor to victory against the Axis Powers.

Article from TheVeteransSite.com

The Story of US Paratrooper Sgt Joe Beyrle

Joseph Beyrle was a paratrooper from Muskegon, Michigan. He was born in 1923, graduated high school in 1942, and turned down a baseball scholarship to the University of Notre Dame and instead joined the army to serve in the parachute infantry.

Beyrle served in the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 101st Division, also called the Screaming Eagles. He specialized in radio communications and demolition.Prior to the start of the Normandy invasions, Beyrle jumped twice into occupied France to coordinate, provide arms, and money to several French resistance units. He then jumped into France on D-Day, destroyed a enemy gun emplacement, was captured, escaped, and captured again. He was beaten nearly to death, his uniform and dog tags were taken from him. A German soldier attempted to infiltrate US lines dressed in Beyrle's uniform and was killed.

The US War Department believed Beyrle had been killed in combat and notified his parents. His mother refused to believe her son was dead and continued to ignore the calls from the family to accept his death.

Beyrle was then placed in the POW camp Stalag-III C in Alt Drewitz, in Western Poland. Here, Beyrle made his third bid for freedom in January 1945. This time, he made it. As he snuck East, the Soviets advanced West and Beyrle ran into a Russian tank battalion in the 1st Guard Tank Army. Photo at left is Beyrle as a POW. You can tell from his look that he was likely highly uncooperative with the German Camp Guards.

Beyrle waved a pack of Lucky Strike Cigarettes and called out the only Russian words he knew, “Amerikansky tovarishch!” (American comrade). Alexandra Samusenko (the same age as Beyrle, 22), the only female Russian tank commander, would soon be convinced by the American soldier she saved to let him fight by her side on their advance to Berlin—a common enemy for two young soldiers in anything but common positions.

Beyrle spent a month fighting alongside his new battalion. On what must have been an incomparably cathartic day, they liberated Stalag-III C, the last prison camp Beyrle was held in. In early February, Beyrle was wounded in an attack from German bombers and transported to a hospital in Poland. There, Soviet Marshal Georgy Zhukov, interested in, obviously, the only American in the hospital, came to speak with him and learn his story. He soon gave Beyrle official papers to locate and rejoin U.S. troops.

From the hospital in Poland, Beyrle hopped into a convoy back to Moscow, to seek out the American embassy. Unfortunately, his story had already taken a dark turn that would make the rest of his journey home difficult.

Beyrle’s dog tags had been found in Normandy soon after D-Day, on what is now presumed to be a dead German soldier. His family, back in Muskegon, Michigan, had been informed of the death of their brave volunteer in September 1944.

Needless to say, the American embassy didn’t believe he was who he claimed to be. After persistence and insistence, Beyrle managed to get the embassy to take his fingerprints and his identity was indeed confirmed. On April 21st, 1945, Beyrle returned home to Michigan. World War II and his long journey were coming to an end.

In 1994, to mark the 50th anniversary of D-Day, Beyrle was honored at the White House by both U.S. President Bill Clinton and Russian President Boris Yeltsin. For the next ten years, Beyrle received a lot of publicity in both the U.S. and Russia for his amazing journey and the symbol of cooperation he was for the post-Cold War countries. He died in 2004, at the age of 81.

Marie-Madeleine Fourcade and the Secret War in France

The below article was written by Rick Ledgett and posted on the Cipher Brief. Ledgett served as the Deputy Director of the National Security Agency from January 2014 until his retirement in April 2017, culminating a nearly 40-year career in cryptology at NSA and in the U.S. Army. He previously led the Media Leaks Task Force, the Agency’s response to the Snowden leaks and was the first National Intelligence Manager for Cyber at the Office of the Director of National Intelligence, and he directed NSA’s 24/7 cyber threat operations center.



The most effective leader of the French Underground, who ran the largest and most productive spy ring working against the Nazis, was not a man. It was Marie-Madeleine Fourcade, who at 31 years old, left her life of privilege in Paris to fight against the German invaders in 1941. Her story is told by Lynne Olson in her New York Times bestseller, Madame Fourcade’s Secret War, published in 2019. It is an enthralling read, filled with tension, drama, and stories of humanity during the most difficult of times. Ms. Olson is an experienced storyteller who has written and co-written a number of World War II histories, and in her prologue says that she ran across Madame Fourcade’s story while writing another book and felt compelled to tell it on its own.

In reading the book, one wonders how Madame Fourcade and her network, called the Alliance, survived. Anyone with a smidgeon of knowledge about intelligence tradecraft will wince when they read of their large group meetings, writing and storage of incriminating documents, and repetitive moves in what we now call “pattern of life” activities. But, despite losses in personnel that sometimes rendered entire sections of France dark to the Alliance, they kept coming back. In large part, that was because of the fierce loyalty and respect in which the resistance agents held Madame Fourcade. Although a woman in what was very much a man’s game, and additionally encumbered by her beauty and youth, she had a fierce will and great charisma. She did not hesitate to put her life on the line, particularly in support of those she recruited; on several occasions she skirted capture by the Gestapo in order to warn her agents. She earned the respect of all those in her network, as well as of British Intelligence, who funded them and provided requirements and other support.

The Alliance became a major thorn in the side of the Gestapo, who exerted great efforts to capture them. The Germans recruited informants, used direction-finding gear to locate Alliance clandestine transmitters, terrorized towns in which Alliance members were believed to be located, and tortured many of those arrested, before shipping them off to death camps.

Because the Alliance used animals as code names for their personnel, the Germans referred to the group as Noah’s Ark. Madame Fourcade chose Hedgehog as her nom de guerre.

The Alliance made contributions to British knowledge throughout France, but nowhere was it more important than along the coast. In the early part of the war it was intelligence on the disposition and defenses of the U-boat fleet that was based on the French coast that was key to Allied efforts to slow their depredations on American ships carrying military material to England. Later in the war, the Alliance was a – if not the – principal source of detailed intelligence on the coastal terrain and German defenses along the coast of Normandy, critically important in the run-up to D-Day. One of the Alliance products was a 55-foot-long, extraordinarily comprehensive map of the beaches used by the Allies for the invasion.

Here Am I, Send Me

Everyone knows about the Famous D-Day invasion of Normandy to begin the march across the Europe which led to the defeat of Nazi Germany. We commemorate it in many different ways. The coolest way to remember that day when our greatest generation waded through beach surf facing unrelenting German machine gun fire, or jumped out of airplanes into sheer darkness behind enemy lines, is to partner with your brothers in arms and the mother of a fallen Ranger to visit Normandy and make a historic parachute jump out C-47 airplanes. And to do it on the 75th Anniversary of D Day.

A team of Special Forces soldiers, 75th Infantry (Ranger) Veterans and Gold Star Mother Scoti Domeij, was documented by film maker Devin Super Tramp as they visited Normandy and jumped from a WWII aircraft to honor the life of Sgt. 1st Class Kristoffer Domeij, 2nd Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment. Domeij was the most deployed U.S. soldier (14 deployments) to have been killed in action (Oct. 22, 2011).

This film debuted on YouTube on Veterans Day, 11/11, 2019 and will be sent to film festivals worldwide.

From those who were there:

“Participation in the 75th Anniversary of D-Day was a lifetime experience of lifetime experiences,” said Matthew Griffin, former Army Ranger and Co-founder of Combat Flip Flops. “A team of Rangers, Green Berets, pilots and filmmakers came together to honor a legend, Army Ranger Kris Domeij. We did this to memorialize his character, provide perspective, and honor the sacrifice of the thousands that lost their lives on D-Day to ensure freedom for the oppressed.”

“We took on this project not knowing exactly what we were going to capture or even how, but we knew it was the opportunity of a lifetime and that we had to be a part of it,” said Devin Graham, Director/DP at Devin Super Tramp. “It ended up being a more meaningful experience than we could have imagined. Due to the subject matter, historical locations, and the personal stories shared, each day after filming there was an immense emotional weight. It genuinely opened our eyes and changed our perspectives on sacrifice, family and gratitude.”

“While we by no means want to compare ourselves to the veterans we had the privilege to work with there, we chose Here Am I, Send Me for the title of the documentary feeling it not only represented so many of these soldiers but also fell right in line with how we felt when this project was first presented to us. Filming these veterans, and a Gold Star mother, and sharing with them this experience in Normandy, was an intimidating and overwhelming responsibility but we essentially raised our hands and said “we’ll do it, send us!” and we are forever grateful that we did.”

75th Anniversary of D-Day - The Invasion of Normandy

The older this Republic grows the less people will remember something they should never forget, the Allied Invasion of Europe, called Operation Overload on 6 June 1944, which began to mark the end of Hitler's Nazi dynasty and end up with the liberation of Europe.

The amphibious landings, preceded by extensive aerial and naval bombardment, yet landing under intense German fire, and an unprecedented airborne assault — the landing of 24,000 US, British, and Canadian airborne troops. The Normandy landings were the largest seaborne invasion in history, with nearly 5,000 landing and assault craft, 289 escort vessels, and 277 minesweepers participating. Almost 160,000 Allied troops crossed the English Channel on D-Day, with another 710,000 continuing to come through June 1944. Allied casualties on the first day alone were at least 10,000, with 4,414 confirmed dead. The Germans, fighting mainly from fixed defensive positions, lost 1,000 men. The following, posted on Small Wars Journal, was written by Keith Nightingale (COL, USA, Ret) who served two tours in Vietnam with Airborne and Ranger (American and Vietnamese) units. He commanded airborne battalions in both the 509th Parachute Infantry Regiment and the 82nd Airborne Division. He later commanded both the 1/75th Rangers and the 1st Ranger Training Brigade.

The beach today is broad, clean and filled with the life that Liberty bestowed 75 years ago. As I walk, I reflect on what I read and what I heard from those that were here on that day of days. An obscure and unremarkable beach stretches in a long light umber crescent. It is bisected by several draws that allow penetration up the steep cliffside-now occupied by vacation homes and gardens. Regardless, the sheer physical aspects of what was the scene then are easy to image now despite the dust of time.

As I walk the sand and dim my eyes, weaving into the filing cabinets of my mind, some images emerge that meld the past events with the present place.

Today is a lovely day for strolling along the seashore. Men are sleeping on the sand, some of them sleeping forever. Men are floating in the water, but they didn’t know that as they are beyond introspection or enjoyment.

Gulls dip and swirl and the sun sparkles off the receding foam. Only an occasional craft passes across the scene and it is clear to the horizon. But my mind sees the two thousand plus bodies and the hundreds of wrecked craft piled together along the shore-still too soon for the niceties of the Graves Registration and Naval salvage units to take effect. And much too soon for my mind’s eye.

The wreckage is vast and startling. Both the material and human waste of war is a common denominator of conflict. But, here, in the compressed spaces of sea and cliff, those words-Waste and Junk- are most pronounced and supremely evident. This one great human endeavor proves that in such catastrophic and important human events, that everything is expendable in the pursuit of a larger objective. They are just people and things and the price we pay for what we undertake. Here on Omaha, that is a distilled and obvious fact.

Hidden by the cold dark bay, lies continuing evidence of both the waste and price of war. Scores of craft, some ships and more than 30 duplex drive tanks rest in the same repose they affected on 6 June 1944. Salvers occasionally dredge one up to decorate a museum or to turn into scrap, but on the whole, they remain in original repose. A bill well paid for a greater cause.

The bones of their crews have long since been recycled into the sea, but their names reside forever in cemeteries and minds throughout our land. The sea obscures the facts, but the memories remain.

Erasing the vestiges of time, we see trucks tipped half over and swamped. Partly sunken barges, and the angled-up corners of jeeps, and small landing craft appearing half submerged. As the tide recedes, the vast array of tetrahedrons, Belgian gates, concertina and Teller mine log barriers become visible-at least if one closes their eyes and allows the mind to conjure what history relates.v Where I walk, on dry firm sand, there are all kinds of wrecked vehicles. Tanks that had only just made the beach before their demise-victims of a great imaginative thought but lost in execution. Jeeps are burned to a dull gray, their tireless rims resting half buried in the sand. Bulldozers, cranes and flatbed trucks are askew across the scene as in some huge modernistic sculpture garden.

Scattered amongst this are wrecked halftracks and deuce and a halves, still shedding the purpose of their owners. Aid bags, type writers, ordnance tools, bedding, stacks of weapons, telephones, switchboards and cases of grenades lie strewn around them and visible through gaping shell holes. Maps and papers flutter and dive with the wind. When the light hits at a specific angle, viscera, body parts and a reflective shine of iron red ochre shows. Battle is decidedly untidy and this is a supremely untidy place.

Everywhere are discarded life belts, gas mask containers, telephone wire, helmets and weapons. They all lay on the sand and roll with the whims of the tide. Interspersed are the parts and pieces of the previous occupants, an orange, a photograph, ration boxes, a half rent shirt, a letter soaked beyond comprehension. Between them all are spent field dressings, the occasional bandanna and parts and pieces of fatigues, the detritus of the effort.

Between exposed obstacles, bodies and parts emerge. Some skeletonized by a sudden blast of flame. Others separated into many parts. A gaitered leg rolls and swims with the tide, its attachment parts no longer extant. Only the living have had the ability to depart this place where order and process are yet to be introduced.

This place, if resurrected, could arm a reasonable nation. Yet, we spend it without question as a trivial part of the bill to buy what we are and what we hoped others would be. The people are forever lost but their spirit and purpose remains-they were and are Us and what we are all about.

A few hundred yards back of the beach is a near continuous high bluff. Against its face, grass grows in thick clumps, interspersed with climbing white roses wending their way to the top. These trace the white tape of trail markings though the minefields bought at a great cost in limbs and lives driven by the necessity to get off this beach and onto the high ground. The remnants of the initial surge lay in repose-some pointing the way for those more mobile and some beyond effort. The roses trace the tale.

Above, where the roses now end, on the first flat ground obtained, are a myriad of tent hospitals, filled to capacity. Nearby are hasty prisoner of war compounds, casually guarded in the near instant of the moment before organized law and order arrives. The occupants are the dazed, dumbfounded and scared remnants of their lost cause. From here, you can see the vast panoply of the effort, lost to most in the mass of the effort.

Still further inland but still close, are a patchwork of hasty airfields. Light spotter planes, fighters and the occasional Dakota medevac continuously enter and exit, providing a symphonic counterpoint to the constantly rumbling artillery, both friends and unfriendly. This a crowded and confused place, but it has a sinew of purpose that glues the greater effort. It is the first sense of organization and structure welded to a purpose, something we do very well.

Beyond the horizon, the huge industrial juggernaut of fixed purpose and production begins to wend its way through the docks and airfields of England, soon to place more than a million men and their material at the disposal of General Eisenhower. At home and at the places of production, workers stop, listen to the radios and church bells and bend harder to their tasks. War is a highly wasteful thing and replacements are constantly demanded-both human and material.

The prisoners, leaning on the hasty wire enclosure, look out to the largest single purpose armada ever assembled. This vestige that was for so long empty is now so occupied. They look and wonder-Once it was “When will they come?” Now they have and each reflects inwardly-“How could we have thought what we did?”

Perhaps if their superiors had the ability to conjure what they now see, the beach would have been unrented and our pool of humanity markedly increased. But, it was not so then and not so now.

The walk concludes with the sun and surf disappearing from view. But the memories and purpose do not fade. This place is a sandy sepulcher of the noblest aspects of the human spirit. Its memory hopefully insures that its images may never again have to be repeated.

Iconic World War II Statute Defaced by Leftists

Police in Florida want to know who spray-painted “#MeToo” on the leg of a statue depicting a sailor and a dental assistant kissing at the end of World War II. Sarasota police said in a news release that officers found the phrase painted in red on the left leg of the woman in the “Unconditional Surrender” statue in Sarasota early Tuesday. The paint covered the length of the nurse’s leg.

Police said officers didn’t find any spray paint bottles in the area. No other objects were defaced. Authorities estimate the damage to the statue at more than $1,000. They say the incident occurred sometime Monday afternoon or evening.

The Me Too movement (or #MeToo movement), with a large variety of local and international alternative names - some call it the Fat Cow movement after some of the obese women who parade signs around. It is nominally a movement against sexual harassment and sexual assault. The movement began to spread virally in October 2017 as a hashtag on social media in an attempt to demonstrate the widespread prevalence of sexual assault and harassment, especially in the workplace. This movement is especially vocal against conservative men who are alleged to have committed sexual assault but when it comes to liberal political figures, such as the Deputy Governor of Virginia, Justin Fairfax, who is accused by two women of rape, the #metoo movement is strangely silent. Make no mistake about it, any man who abuses a woman, in any manner, should face the full penalty of law or be drug behind speed boat in shark infested waters,...whichever is deemed more harsh.

George Medonsa, the sailor who kissed dental assistant Greta Zimmer Friedman, died Sunday at 95. He was preceded in death by Greta Zimmer Friedman, who was the lady in the original photograph, who passed away on 8 September 2016. Medonsa served as a quartermaster on the USS The Sullivans (DD-537), a destroyer in the Pacific. He was steering the ship in 1945 when an aircraft carrier in the area was struck by Japanese kamikaze fighters. He is credited with helping more than 100 American sailors floating in the water reach a hospital ship. There he saw nurses caring for the wounded and alwasy had a soft spot for nurses thereafter.

Christmas 1944

The below was published by Keith Nightingale on the Small Wars Journal with the original title "Fried Chicken and Family – Christmas 1944". COL (ret) Nightingale served two tours in Vietnam with Airborne and Ranger (American and Vietnamese) units. He commanded airborne battalions in both the 509th Parachute Infantry Regiment and the 82nd Airborne Division. He later commanded both the 1/75th Rangers and the 1st Ranger Training Brigade. The original article can be viewed at this link: http://smallwarsjournal.com/jrnl/art/fried-chicken-and-family-christmas-1944

Christmas Day 1944, near Trois-Pont, Belgium, was truly a white Christmas. It was also incredibly cold, especially for those 82nd paratroopers that were holding a tenuous thin line against the best combined armed force the German army could muster. Due to the lack of manpower, men were scattered in two-man foxholes across a much broader front than normal tactics dictated. In such situations, necessity breeds violation.

Combat is the ultimate test of doctrine and wise commanders adjust doctrine to meet tactical necessity. The men were at the crest of a large hill mass that faced another even larger mass, separated only by a partially cleared but snowbound field. Their position could be reached by only the suggestion of a bad road worn into the land by years of wood collectors and game wardens. By no stretch, could it support the requirements of an infantry unit. As such, it did not.

The troops, most still wearing only the light summer paratroop fatigues and leather boots, spent much of their time simply trying to survive. The frequent forays of probing German units served as momentary periods of warmth as adrenalin fired the near-frozen skin and viscera of the combatants. Once quiet resumed, the necessary acts to retain or gain some form of warmth took precedent. Open fires were out of the question. Consequently, the outposts huddled in small foxholes for body warmth and occasionally built small twig fires in the bottom for a moment of heat. But only a moment.

Some had “acquired” a quilt or blanket from some luckless peasant quarters earlier or had the foresight to steal the blanket off their beds in Soissons, France, where they had been recovering from Market-Garden. Very few had the new shoe pacs or even galoshes, so quick was their departure the evening of 17 December. Virtually all troops had bedsheets as hasty camouflage cover.

16 December had brought the juggernaut of two panzer armies against the thinly held Ardennes sector. Very quickly, two US regiments of the green 106th Division were overrun and surrendered. All along the Belgian border area, US units were thrown back in disarray coalescing in pockets of resistance as best they could. Engineer elements blew bridges and with great courage, stoically defended crucial crossing sites and intersections. Places such as Bastogne, St. Vith, Malmedy, Trois-Pont, and Fraiture began to fill with withdrawing elements, mostly leaderless and in some panic.

General Dwight Eisenhower, after understanding the magnitude of the effort, released his only Theatre reserves, the 82nd and 101st Airborne Divisions at 1900 on 17 December. They were only at part strength with many troops on leave and much of their ordnance in shops for repair. Only a minimal amount of ammunition was locally available.

Loading on hastily assembled Red Ball Express vehicles, mostly open trucks, the troops deployed as rapidly as they could be assembled with only minimal attention to unit integrity so great was the need. Throughout the night, and in alternating sub-zero and sleeting weather, they traveled east to the disintegrating sectors. One division would go to Bastogne in the southern area and the other to Werbomont, further north. Ultimate assignment would be determined after MG Jim Gavin, Acting Corps Commander in the absence of MG Ridgway in the UK and CG, 82nd, met in Bastogne with MG Middleton, the CG VIII Corps.

By luck of the draw and a shorter distance to travel, the 101st arrived in Bastogne, and Gavin ordered it to hold the road structure. The 82nd would go to Werbomont and figure it out from there, so tenuous was any intelligence on German dispositions and intentions. Gavin, meeting the lead elements of his division in the early dawn of 18 December, and with no real feel for enemy dispositions, sent them east on a line paralleling the high ground overlooking the valley between the Rivers Salm and Ourthe. This was a long ridge stretching from Belgium almost into Germany. This would be the northern shoulder of what was soon labeled “The Bulge.”

One of these elements was the 505 PIR which was assigned the easternmost portion of the loosely held line. It was a small group of troops from one of the three battalions that found themselves on a very cold Christmas, receiving presents beyond price. The outpost had been in intermittent contact all day and much of the preceding night. Sleep was a forgotten luxury. Both extreme cold and professional German infantry, well-supported by artillery and armor, forced a maintenance of alertness that a hard core NCO would have envied.

The troops were closely rationing the few boxes of K rations they had snatched in France. Most had eaten the main meals some time ago and were now subsisting on cigarettes, gum, candy, and memories. There was no reason to believe this situation would soon change.

In this area, daylight was a rumor and dark a reality. Fog, even in this most frigid air, had frequently clouded and rolled over the position obscuring all but a few meters to the front. The NCOs in response, sent small patrols and outposts as far forward as the leading edge of the fronting woods, not daring a further positioning for fear of the outposts being bypassed.

Every step broke the hard dry snow surface and sounded across the ground. Here, the snow was dry as flour but crusted. A walk of less than a hundred meters was exhausting. A small patrol could be a full day’s affair. Stealth was achievable only under the dark snow-laden trees that delineated the irregular open ground. The rough roads and paths were packed with deep drifts, all but impenetrable except by armor—of which the Germans apparently had a great deal.

Dark arrived quickly here, with less than six hours of furtive daylight to bar its entrance. The skies had been consistently low, leaden, and impenetrable. The only consistency was the sharp, surgical precision of the cold. No planes were seen or heard. Silence was deep and profound except for the sudden eruption of artillery announcing a German thrust in the sector. A battle would be fought, and calm and cold would then return.

The troops talked in low mutterings through blue lips and clenched teeth. Talking expended energy and movement was prized more than conversation. What talk there was, was of past Christmases, sumptuous feasts relived mouthful by mouthful, and warm surroundings. While they talked to Army efforts to feed a Christmas feast, they were completely aware that this would not happen here, at this time. But, they were wrong.

Famous for being “up front” and for caring for his troops, MG Gavin did not shirk this moment—though his position would allow him to do so. Christmas Day 1944, was not auspicious other than for the precarious nature of his command. Stretched very thin along rugged snow packed terrain, his command was constantly engaged by a force superior in arms but not in will. Only because of the tenacity and ingenuity of his troops, was Gavin able to hold his positions.

From his headquarters in Bra-sur-Lienne, Belgium, as he always did, he visited as many troop positions and subordinate commanders as he could. A review of the Division Operations Report (OpRep) indicates the history for that day.

OPREP 25 December 1944

All units successfully broke contact with the enemy and withdrew to the new defense line (NOTE: the 82nd had been ordered to withdraw to a tighter line in the rear by General Bernard Montgomery the night before. This, somewhat, allowed a reduction of the distance between them. But it also forced Gavin to find his elements in new positions.)

325th Glider Infantry, the 1st Battalion, filled the gap between the 504th Parachute Infantry Regiment and the 7th Armored Division by occupying DRI-LE-CHESLIN and VAUX-CHAVANNE. At 2200 hours, an enemy infantry attack was repulsed. The 2nd Battalion as Division Reserve and the 3rd Battalion as Regimental Reserve occupied positions near AU-HETRE.

504th Parachute Infantry—2nd and 3rd Battalions occupied new positions along the line EN BERGIFA to BRA-VAUX-CHAVANNE. The 1st Battalion, in Regimental Reserve, vicinity of BRA.

505th Parachute Infantry—the 2nd and 3rd Battalions now occupied new defensive positions between TROIS-PONTS and BASSE-BODEUX. 1st Battalion occupied a position 3000 yards north of BASSE-BODEUX as Regimental Reserve.

508th Parachute Infantry—occupied new defensive positions along the line HAUTE-BODEUX, EN BERGIFA with all Battalions on the MLR. The 3rd Battalion, 112th Infantry Regiment (28th Inf Div) was relieved of attachment to the 508th Prcht Inf Regt.

307th Airborne Engineer Battalion laid minefields; constructed field fortifications called abatises, and blew bridges to form a barrier along the Division Front.

B Company, 86th Chemical Battalion, A Company, 703d TD Battalion, and 551st Parachute Infantry Battalion were attached to the Division. C Company, 563d Antiaircraft Artillery, Automatic Weapons Battalion was relieved of attachment to the Division.

END OPREP

Previously, on 24 December, the skies had cleared. On one hand, this was a Godsend permitting planes to fly for the first time since the initial attack. Fighters assisted the Division several times in taking out German armor, now constricted on narrow mountain roads and almost out of gas. But, there was a downside.

The open skies meant a much colder temperature for the troops, bound in deep snow and ice. The somewhat warming effect of the low clouds and fog was lost. Concurrently, night brought an almost full moon, eerily illuminating the sparkling snow across the entire front. What once was lost to sight, was now open and at a good distance. Only the dark, laden pines and fir trees obscured vision. It was in the early morning of 25 December that General Gavin began what was his normal day—visiting the units, talking to the troops, and encouraging them where they needed the most support. He was always mindful of the mental condition and emotional needs of his troops. If he could not supply warmth, he could supply spirit. Most often, that was all his troops needed to carry the day.

Preparing to depart his CP with his aide, Hugo Olson, and a driver, he stopped briefly at the mess, took an empty K ration box and went into the kitchen. He returned to his vehicle and asked Hugo to navigate the jeep to his first position. Over the course of the day, he would traverse more than 15 miles of frontage, visiting each of his subordinate units.

The first elements he visited were from the 325 GIR, now holding the high ground along Baraque De Fraiture, the scene of tenacious Tank-Infantry combat the previous few days. The 325, now fully blooded in Normandy, was an integral and highly competent force despite their lack of Airborne status.

Next were elements of the 508th PIR, a mixed element of the 517th and 509th PIRs and the 504th PIR. The recently added 517th and 509th elements had been rushed from the UK as Airborne reinforcements and were not a normal part of the 82nd. However, as Airborne, Gen. Gavin welcomed them to the Division and gladly added them to his stretched forces.

Well past dark and at almost midnight, the General’s jeep found itself at the base of a hill near the last unit. A barely discernible trail was indicated through the deep snow by a small path cut by soldiers who had gone before. The jeep began to wind its way up the narrow twisting trail until it was almost completely snowbound near the crest. At this point, General Gavin ordered the jeep to stop and jumped out. He was almost waist deep in snow but could clearly see the troop positions in the shining moonlight and moved methodically toward them. To his rear, his driver followed with a K ration box in his arms.

Coming upon the men, now on full alert to the people looming behind them, they recognized the general and assumed a loose posture of attention. Gen. Gavin, as he always did, immediately put them at ease with a:

“Hey fellas. Merry Christmas.”

He jumped down into the nearest position, followed by his driver and opened the K ration box and its small remaining portion of fried chicken. He passed the box around to each man who quickly reached in and extracted a piece. While Gen. Gavin held light conversation, the troops eagerly gnawed the long cold meat.

After a few minutes, he turned to his driver and said;

“Come on. Let’s go.”

With that comment, he departed, leaving his troopers with some of the greatest gifts they could have, something to digest for both the stomach and the soul. This is why soldiers fight and would fight for him. It was a lesson in loyalty, dedication, compassion and steely resolve-for both the superior and the subordinates.

Operation Magic Carpet- Bringing Home the Troops from WWII

The U.S. military experienced an unimaginable increase during World War II. In 1939, there were 334,000 servicemen, not counting the Coast Guard. In 1945, there were over 12 million, including the Coast Guard. At the end of the war, over 8 million of these men and women were scattered overseas in Europe, the Pacific and Asia. Shipping them out wasn’t a particular problem but getting them home was a massive logistical headache. The problem didn’t come as a surprise, as Army Chief of Staff General George C. Marshall had already established committees to address the issue in 1943.

When Germany fell in May 1945, the U.S. Navy was still busy fighting in the Pacific and couldn’t assist. The job of transporting 3 million men home fell to the Army and the Merchant Marine. 300 Victory and Liberty cargo ships were converted to troop transports for the task. During the war, 148,000 troops crossed the Atlantic west to east each month; the rush home ramped this up to 435,000 a month over 14 months.

In October 1945, with the war in Asia also over, the Navy started chipping in, converting all available vessels to transport duty. On smaller ships like destroyers, capable of carrying perhaps 300 men, soldiers were told to hang their hammocks in whatever nook and cranny they could find. Carriers were particularly useful, as their large open hangar decks could house 3,000 or more troops in relative comfort, with bunks, sometimes in stacks of five welded or bolted in place.

The Navy wasn’t picky, though: cruisers, battleships, hospital ships, even LSTs (Landing Ship, Tank) were packed full of men yearning for home. Two British ocean liners under American control, the RMS Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth, had already served as troop transports before and continued to do so during the operation, each capable of carrying up to 15,000 people at a time, though their normal, peacetime capacity was less than 2,200. Twenty-nine ships were dedicated to transporting war brides: women married to American soldiers during the war.

The Japanese surrender in August 1945 came none too soon, but it put an extra burden on Operation Magic Carpet. The war in Asia had been expected to go well into 1946 and the Navy and the War Shipping Administration were hard-pressed to bring home all the soldiers who now had to get home earlier than anticipated. The transports carrying them also had to collect numerous POWs from recently liberated Japanese camps, many of whom suffered from malnutrition and illness.

The time to get home depended a lot on the circumstances. USS Lake Champlain, a brand new Essex-class carrier that arrived too late for the war, could cross the Atlantic and take 3,300 troops home a little under 4 days and 8 hours. Meanwhile, troops going home from Australia or India would sometimes spend months on slower vessels. There was enormous pressure on the operation to bring home as many men as possible by Christmas 1945. Therefore, a sub-operation, Operation Santa Claus, was dedicated to the purpose. Due to storms at sea and an overabundance of soldiers eligible for return home, however, Santa Claus could only return a fraction in time and still not quite home but at least to American soil. The nation’s transportation network was overloaded: trains heading west from the East Coast were on average 6 hours behind schedule and trains heading east from the West Coast were twice that late.

Many freshly discharged men found themselves stuck in separation centers but faced an outpouring of love and friendliness from the locals. Many townsfolk took in freshly arrived troops and invited them to Christmas dinner in their homes. Others gave their train tickets to soldiers and still others organized quick parties at local train stations for men on layover. A Los Angeles taxi driver took six soldiers all the way to Chicago; another took another carload of men to Manhattan, the Bronx, Pittsburgh, Long Island, Buffalo and New Hampshire. Neither of the drivers accepted a fare beyond the cost of gas.

All in all, though, the Christmas deadline proved untenable. The last 29 troop transports, carrying some 200,000 men from the China-India-Burma theater, arrived to America in April 1946, bringing Operation Magic Carpet to an end, though an additional 127,000 soldiers still took until September to return home and finally lay down the burden of war.

Article from Beyond The Band of Brothers website