The Army

I was inducted into the Army on August 23, 1943, age 18 years, six months. I had never been more than 25 miles away from home except for two family trips; one to Masontown, Pennsylvania and one to Atlantic City. I reported to the Fifth Regiment Armory on Preston Street together with a group of mostly eighteen year olds. We went by bus to Fort Lee, Virginia where we were sworn in and outfitted with uniforms and equipment. I was sent to Fort Benning, Georgia for Infantry Basic Training. I was assigned to a platoon commanded by one Sergeant Boyarsky. I do not recall him as being the rough, gruff drill sergeant. We learned to shoot, rifles and carbines. The rifles were an Enfield and a Garand (M-6) The Enfield was a World War I rifle, single shot and heavy. The M6 would shoot as long as you held the trigger and there were bullets in the clip, of course. We learned to use a bayonet and hand to hand combat. Can you imagine sticking another man with a long knife and killing him? Are these people crazy? Can you imagine learning many ways to kill another human being? And being required to do it because the opposing soldier was trying to do the same to you? Are these people crazy?

And we marched, and we marched and we marched. The soil was sandy at Fort Benning and did not retain the heat of the day. When we woke in the morning, it was cold enough to wear a field jacket. As the day grew on, the heat increased and we shed clothing which were then carried on person. We were billeted in an outpost of Fort Benning in wooden barracks which slept forty men, a platoon. Everything was done the Army way; beds and footlocker made and packed identically according to specifications. The barracks were kept CLEAN. And, of course, there was KP, Kitchen Patrol. I can recall peeling mounds of potatoes until it was discovered that I knew how to cut meat. Then my KP duties were limited to that task. (From this experience, I deduced that everything that is learned may eventually become useful). I had never eaten a non-kosher meal before I went into the Army but I quickly learned. I could never eat mutton, however and with most of my buddies, lined up at the Post Exchange (PX) on mutton nights.

After the first month we were given week-end passes. On the first one, I went with two buddies to Columbus, Georgia. We went into a restaurant for breakfast. As we sat down at the counter, the waitress put a small dish of white stuff. This stuff was grits, pronounced gree-its; two syllables. Grits were not ordered; they were served with each and every meal.

After Basic Training I was sent to the University of Maine, Orono, Maine to participate in the Army Specialized Training Program (ASTP). We took college courses. I had taken all the courses at Poly and Pharmacy School so I learned nothing new. I was there November, December, 1943 and January, 1944. I can remember nothing but bitter cold and snow and ice. I will never be convinced that there is earth in Maine! We would spray water over a field and had an ice skating rink in the morning. With planning for D-Day in June, 1944, and the coming need for hordes of Infantrymen, the ASTP became expendable. I was sent to Fort Jackson, South Carolina for advanced infantry training, to the 29th Division. I was nineteen years old. We were sent on maneuvers in Tennessee in March 1944. It was cold and raining every day. We never got dry. I can remember lining up in the morning for hot coffee in a metal canteen cup. The coffee was so hot it burned the lips. But it was so welcome. Conditions were made as difficult as possible in anticipation of combat conditions. We wore the same clothes for weeks. Our feet were never dry. Here I contracted trench foot, which is extreme frostbite. I could not walk for the pain and was sent to a field hospital, the Fort Jackson Hospital and finally, Ashford General Hospital, White Sulfur Springs, West Virginia. On D-Day, June 6, 1944, I was in Richmond, Virginia, enroute to White Sulfur Springs.