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Am enclosing a picture of
Spainhour, Riley and myself taken last spring in Florida, at Riley's
home so you can see what 3 old ex Sgts look like, maybe give you a
laugh or two. We sure had a good time discussing everyone we could think
of. I had not seen Riley (Top Sgt) since June, 1945 when he visited me
at Wakeman General
Hospital at Camp
Atterbury.
He was a career man, stayed in 26 years. He was in
Korea
(combat) and in Germany.
Went back to the "Hill" twice while in Germany.
Spainhour and I have kept in loose contact through the years. We have
visited his home in N. Carolina and they have been at our home here and
in Fla.
I have kept (barely) in touch
with Joe Laux. Used to hunt pheasants with him in the thumb area of
Michigan,
but then much to my surprise he moved to
Sun City,
Ariz.
I tracked him down again last spring. Talked to him on the phone, doing
well, is a food broker (own business). He was wounded, was on 100%
disability.
As I remember you were the
runner for the section, Laux had one squad, Springer the other. The
other guys were Kosciow, Baldwin, Melaick (the creep) Matezewski, Wares,
Mussen and Tex
Goertz. One name escapes my memory.
I had been sent back by Capt. Huyett on the late
afternoon of Dec. 18th to bring up the rile platoon that was in reserve,
also the mortar section. When I got back to them I told Lt. Banes and
Lt. Burr that we had made contact at the road. One of them suggested
that we try and get on the German's flank at the road and told me to
show them where they were at. I got almost there when I looked behind
and there was only 2 men near me. The rest were
about 200 yards back. I spotted the Germans, went back and told Lt
Bailes and Burr. By that time it was getting dark. Bailes told me to go
report to Capt. Huyett where they were. I did and Capt. Huyett said O.K.
About 1:00 AM, Dec. 19th, Capt. Huyett decided that he wanted the other
platoon closer to us. He told me to take one other man (a big guy from
Ala.)
and go down in those woods and get them up there. We contacted K Co. on
our right and told them we would be bringing men through their fire
area and I would be calling "Co. K"
(whispering) as we had no password, I got
separated from the guy from
Ala.
and finally after being on the road, woods and
everywhere found out where they were.
I contacted Sgt. Savineso
finally got them back with the
Co. except
two squads of the mortar section. That left Lt. Burr, Herbacynco,
Rotbermel and Schauer and two squads down in
the woods with no mortars.
By the time I got back about 6:00AM and I was so
damned tired, I didn't even try to
dig in knowing we were going on the attack. It was
before the attack about daylight when I hit that weapons carrier with
the Germans driving it and split my lip
all to hell with the recoil, there was no fire. The
one you are thinking about is
when the bazooka squad hit the gas truck up on our
left on that little side trail. That is what they used as a aiming
point.
We then
started down across that open field. Someone hollered here comes tanks,
the Q.M. Sgt. and Capt. Huyett both said they're
ours. But like you, when
that first one opened up and that shell hit right
in our midst, I wondered what in the hell was going on. I managed to get
about half way to the road and the shells
were falling so thick and the Mach. gun slugs
flying that I hit the ground. That's
when I started getting hit. I got it on the nose,
face, left shoulder, right arm, back. (Cut my cartridge belt off of me),
both legs and feet. All were flesh wounds except left shoulder. I
managed to get up and start back. I thought I had bought the farm. It's
a damned wonder I didn't get killed on the way back because
the Germans were doing a replay by then. I walked
back by Capt. Huyett and he
said "Henderson,
you are shot all to hell, get back to the aid station."
I also passed Spainhour who was on the 80 mortar.
He later took a direct hit on it from an 88. it blew the tube all to
hell and knocked him about 20 feet. He
was temporarily blinded by it (about 4 days) but
Norton (2nd platoon) stayed with
him and they took turns caring for one another.
Norton was wounded in the leg.
I got screwed up in the direction on the way to the
aid station. Ran into John Frien, he was also hit (arm & leg). He told
me to lay down and he would try and get me
some water. He never returned, he got captured
before he could get back.
In the late afternoon Lt. Harrison and his runner (Elund
or Edlund) came through
with white armbands on, said
the Germans were allowing them to check for wounded, also what was left
of the Co.
had thrown in the towel, Lt. Harrison gave me
morphine left the runner with me and went to get a
litter. I passed out and when
I woke up it was dark. I think that Erlund thought
I had died because of the
morphine knocking me out. (I often wonder if he
made it). I sure hope so. Early
the next A.M. the Germans shelled the hill again. I
crawled off in the bushes and
laid there 2 more days and nights. Germans were
walking within 10 to 15 ft. of
me. Finally, I decided to crawl out, when I did I
run into one of their patrols. They promptly opened up on me. They must
have thought the whole American army
was is those bushes the way I was thrashing around,
but luckily no more hits.
I spent a night in a German
field hospital and then was sent to
Koblenz.
(My
feet had froze when I laid out), got there
Christmas eve and was in a German
Hospital until New Years eve then sent by train
(boxcar) through Frankfort
where
I got strafed and bombed, to a town called Bad
Sodum until January 19th. This
hospital was run by what was left of the few
Catholic nuns in Germany.
Quite a few allied captives were there either as aid men or patients
especially blind and burned.
On Jan. 19th, I was sent to Obermasafield (30 mi.
from Bad Orb.) This was a hospital
run by English doctors under German control. They a
operated on toe, took out
the shrapnel which had completely taken out my
shoulder socket, put one in a
body cast until March 26th, I
was liberated on April 2nd by 11th armored. I got back to Paris about
April 8th, and state side on May 1st. I weighed in at 129 when I got to
Paris, but was a hell
of a lot better off than you guys were. They flew me back to Thayer General
Hospital at
Nashville,
I was there until Oct. 1st and then sent to Wakeman General at Camp
Atterbury. They sewed up the scar tissue got my feet to stop draining
and discharged me on Dec. 13, 1945.
Wakeman was the last place I
saw Wilholt. He had a bad head wound. I talked with him several times
but he went home quite a bit as he was ambulatory. I cannot remember
what his home town was so if you can, please send it to me, would
certainly appreciate it. Also, anything you can remember about Maestro,
who I believe was from
New York or
New Jersey.
As I look back now what has happened to a lot of
the guys Cormen (Crum Bum) Melnick
(the creep), Kosciow, Hille, Waveris, Duckett and
all the rest that I mentioned
before.
Baldwin was
at Obermasafield to but I did not know it until we were liberated. Had
leg and arm wounds pretty bad. He was from
Washington
state, Bremerton,
I believe, but was inducted at
Jackson,
Michigan.
I have checked there but no luck. I have sent letters through the VA to
several of the guys, but wonder if they received them through that
fouled up outfit. Also have letters out to Capt. Huyett, through
Washington, D.C.
but no answer yet.
But won't give
up, plan to pester, cajole and contact whomever, to establish their
whereabouts or if they are still living.
Really didn't
intend to tell you all my experiences, but was so damned glad to hear
from you. I just started and couldn't stop. Yes, I also remember the
incident when we were on the Queen Elizabeth, guess my nerves were
really beginning to show through. I also remember you As a good soldier
and not at all "cocky". But must have been pretty "rough" to go through
the P.O.W. ordeal. You were certainly not at all “cocky” and I remember
you as a friend.
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