France 1945
About the middle of February 1945, we moved our headquarters to Sarreguemines, a French city on the Saar River. North of the Saar (in French, “Sarre”) was Germany. I guess we were about a mile from the river.
I slept on the third floor in a building directly over the Headquarters of the Division Artillery. The general contacted me personally saying, “Brown, I want you to make a reconnaissance of the areas from here to the river. Then report back to me.” I was dumb struck! Didn’t know what to do. Then, as luck would have it, who should appear before me but Lt. Ted Brett, the general’s aide. Ted said to me, “Brown, the general just old me what he wants you to do. You can’t do that by yourself. You’ll get killed!” He then told me he had already been up there with the general and knew what to look for. He wanted to show me how to get back in one piece.
Sarreguemines had about 15,000 population and some German troops. It was dark, foggy day as Ted, driver and I proceeded toward the Saar River and the town. He told my driver to drive slowly. As long as U.S. troops can be seen, keep going. When you see no one, turn the jeep around and go back fast. It wasn’t long before we returned around and came back fast. I reported my findings to the general after which he assigned me to make an aerial observation mission every day from 2:00pm to 5:00pm, when it got dark…
Before I get into the aerial observation stuff, let me tell you how well we were treated in the army. You got free cigarettes, all you wanted to smoke. You could even get cigarettes if you didn’t smoke. General McGaw didn’t smoke, but I guess he wanted to be one of the boys, so he took it up. Then, all officers got 4 or 5 fifths of whiskey or other liquor every month, regular brand stuff. All the officers knew how to drink. They, you got free dental care. Our dentist paid me a visit and begged me to come down and get some tooth care. What took so long was the drilling.
*In sorry H.M. didn’t talk about cigarettes on base in the U.S. If a cigarette was smoked, the smoker was expected to tear it apart when finished, scatter the tobacco remaining and wad the paper int a small ball before depositing it on the ground. You’d be surprised how this kept grounds from looking littered. Filters weren’t much in vogue… Va. B.
The drill was hooked up to a bicycle type mechanism. The dentist’s helper pedaled this apparatus just as though he were pedaling a bike except that he sat in a chair. This was all fine and dandy, but for the fact that every minute or two the helper had to stop and rest. A little of this crap went a long way with me. Finally, I said to the dentist, a little, serious fellow with good intent, “Stop!” he stopped.
I then asked him if he could put in a temporary filling. He could and did. I then had a man-to-man talk with the helper. It was something like talking to a wet dishrag. Anyway, I made an appointment for the next day and finally got that tooth filled right. I think that filling lasted for about 20 years.
Now, back to this thing called aerial observation. Each observer is assigned a code name which is changed often. For the purposes of this story, ill use the code name, “Fox”. I was also introduced to a pilot who, with a nod, consented to air taxi me. From now on as far as air observation was concerned, it would be him and me. Pilots are a happy bunch. They would rather fly than do anything else. Not your ordinary smooth, flat type of flying. No, they would do anything to make it more exciting. They are regular daredevils. Also, they are intelligent, dependable, and very good at what they do.
On my first observation, I arrived at the air strip, seated myself and had with me binoculars and topographic map of the area. As soon as the pilot raised the plane from the ground, I radioed, “Fox, taking off for mission”. We flew to the font lines. No, you can’t see the front line, but men on the front lines can see you. I depended on the pilot to know about where the lines were. During observation, the plane flied at 1,000 feet. This is the magic of height at which you can supposedly fly and be off the trajectory of the artillery shells. If a shell should hit your plane your worries are over.
However, you can hear the sharp crack-like noise made by the sound waves created by a shell that happens to pass nearby. The enemy is going to do everything he can to keep you from seeing his location. It’s called “self-preservation”. Generally speaking, once you get in the air in a position to observe, all visual activity on the ground will cease. Sometimes an observation can be a boring experience. Then, without warning, conditions can change into a day of action.
On one particular mission, it was dusk and getting about time to go in when suddenly we realized the dark of night had caught us. Then, from the enemy horizon you could see the flashes of what appeared to be shooting of hundreds of guns. The excitement of all this overcame the pilot. He grabbed the radio mouthpiece and yelled, “the whole world is blowing up.” Nevertheless, in a short time, the pilot successfully lands us at the darkened air strip.
The next day, General McGaw called a special, unscheduled meeting for all pilots and observers. All he said at the meeting was, “Yesterday I heard someone yelling over the air, ‘the whole world is blowing up.’ I don’t know who it was, and I don’t want to know, but I don’t want to hear anything like that again. Dismissed!”
