Points

One day in late April 1945, General McGaw awarded me the Bronze Star Medal and in late June, the Air Medal. These were informal occasions. The general would have his aide summon me to his headquarters where, as I stood at attention, the general would pin the medal, shake my hand, and say something complimentary. The entire ceremony lasted only about five minutes. The general also wrote to the nearest of kin for every soldier who had died in his outfit. I didn’t envy that job.

Then, down came an order transferring me to the 36th Infantry Division. This division was a famous one from Texas. All of this was in preparation to get me in an outfit that was being readied to go fight the Japs. Just how lucky can a guy get? The one thing in the world I didn’t want to do was to get in a fight with the Japs. To put it mildly, I was pissed off.

But I reported to the 36th Division Artillery general. He was a redhead, but I forgot his name. he assigned me to be defense attorney for some wayward American G.I.s. I didn’t like him, and I didn’t like the assignment. I asked an officer in the outfit where were all the Texans. He told me I was part of the fourth replacement for the 36th and the general was the fourth or fifth replacement commander.

Since V-E Day, the U.S. Army pencil pushers worked a demobilization plan known as the “Point System” for rotating out of the armed serviced. It worked this way: it took 85 points to be eligible for discharge. I was short about 5 points.

While I was mulling over my luck at being so near yet so far, I received a visitor. I was walking down a street when someone kept blowing the horn of his jeep at me. It turned out to be Dick Cassman who had a few days off to do as he wished. How he found me, I’ll never know but he did. We got reacquainted and got some passer by to take our picture together there in Germany.

While I was still lamenting my small lack of points, a bolt from the blue came. It was a communique stating that on the 20th of September 1945, I was awarded the Frist Oak Leaf Cluster to the Bronze Star Medal. Yippee, over the top. Discharge, here I come. (Here, I point out that the war with Japan had ended with V-J Day, August 15, 1945. Va B)

I was immediately transferred from the 36th Infantry Division to a battalion headquarters that was full of officers loaded with points, waiting to be discharged. What a happy bunch! There was a light colonel in charge, and we all lived in a large house with nothing to do but wait for the order to move out enroute to our home. (Eisenhower said he had an idea for speeding up the return of the men home. In hundreds of places, he asked the men about his plan. He said that since submarines were no longer a menace, returning ships could be loaded with twice their capacity if the men were to sleep in a double shift during 24 hours. In a choice of comfort versus speed of return, all servicemen shouted in favor of the double0loading plan. Eisenhower said he never afterward heard of a single complaint by men so discomforted by the double-loading. Va B)

In the meantime, we had parties, drank everything we could get, which wasn’t much; went horseback riding on German-trained horses. That didn’t work out worth a toot.

One day, the colonel announced, “All our domestic help has to be certified by an army medical doctor.” A few days later, the colonel read the medical report. All the maids, about eight young women, were disqualified for having social diseased. Upon hearing the report, some of the officers turned pale and hurriedly left the table where we were hearing the report. The cook and his help passed, so we go to keep them.

Again, I was transferred to another group of officers being readied for demobilization. We were to go to Camp Lucky Strike near LeHavre, France. On the 20th of September 1945, we all walked the gang plank of the troop ship, headed for the good ole U.S.A. (It is my recollection that on arrival in the U.S., Harrison said it was a Liberty Ship. Va B)

It wasn’t long before we were plying the open sea. While enroute, one of the ship’s cook’s crew came to my quarters saying I was to furnish the K.P.s for the mess on a particular day. I went down to the ships hold where the bunks were stacked five or six tiers high. Thousands of G.I.s slept here plus about 20 dogs which has been smuggled aboard. What a stinking mess! I cornered the first ten to twenty med that came along, took their names, and assigned them to K.P. duty. They then told me they didn’t do K.P during because they were all noncommissioned officers. I told them I didn’t care if they were Jesus Christ, they were on K.P. duty unless they sent replacements. In don’t recall how this worked out.

I do remember that this was the roughest ride I ever had. Tossed to and fro against the iron sides of the ship was a trial. The only good thing about that trip was that the ship was going in the right direction.

On the morning of September 28, 1945, on a light and clear day, we approached Boston Harbor. The sight of land and knowing it was home brought many sobering thoughts to mind. Within the harbor were several fire boats saluting us with streams of colored water. Welcome wagons of the sea! It was an extremely good feeling to be back in the U.S.A.

It wasn’t long before we walked down the gangplank and were transported to temporary barracks. Here were debriefed and told to ship home our belongings. I just rolled up all that junk I had in a canvas sleeping bag and sent it to Lakewood.

In a day or two, a good many of us were escorted to a RR siding where we boarded a train for Fort Dix, NJ. I was appointed in charge of one coach. I guess I was supposed to keep down the riots or something like that. I never knew exactly what I was supposed to do. But the whole train was loaded with seasoned war veterans. I couldn’t have been with a better bunch of men. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. They all had the same thing on their minds. Home! That same day we arrived at Fort Dix. I don’t remember much about my stay there. (he did get on the telephone to the grocery store where Harry took the message to come get him at a certain hour of a certain day.) we were there about three or four days. About mid-October 1945, I was released on 60 days of paid leave. At that time, I was automatically discharged.

Virginia and Johnny rode with a grocery salesman to meet me at Fort Dix. (Harry had made the arrangements. There weren’t many autos available to take places in those immediate postwar days.) we all piled in the car and drover to 322 Ridge Ave., Lakewood. I believe I was the first to be discharged in the town. But it wasn’t long before George Clark came home from the Marines and he and Fran descended on 322 where we all stayed till just before Christmas. However, that’s another story.

…Les affaires de Coeur,

Harrison M. Brown