Battery C
132nd AAA Gun Battalion 1943 1946
Where's The Rest of our History?

I was reading over the Charlie Battery History section of the Battalion book and it suddenly dawned on me that there was a lot more to our history than a bunch of dates and places. A lot of things that were not there, like what happened at Camp Edwards, Fort Bragg, side trips to Scortons Neck and Wellfleet. There was nothing about this whole period of our existence together. I just thought maybe I could add something to an otherwise dreary report of our trip through Europe and one of the main things that made me decide to do this was when I read the history of some of the other batteries in the book. They mentioned the names of the men in the battery and some of the things they did. There was nothing like that in our history story. So here now is my little addition.
Be it right or wrong, its how I remember it to be.
As our little group from Fort Devens got on the train for our new assignment, rumors were rampant; we were on our way to Ft. Ord, California, others had us going to Fort Polk in Louisiana, but to most of us that knew where Taunton Massachusetts was, we knew that we were headed for either Camp Miles Standish or Camp Edwards because that was the only way the rails went.
When we approached the Cape Cod Canal, we all knew that our destination was to be Camp Edwards, which to most of us meant, almost like being home. How could we possibly be this lucky? How is possible that the Army would assign us to a place only forty miles from Home?
The Army didn't do things like that. They usually sent you across the country to some place you never heard of, and miles from civilization.

CAMP EDWARDS MASSACHUSETTS

As Andy Rolleri would sit back in the chair and relate some of the things that he could remember, I was always in awe of just how much he could recall and how he knew just about everyone in the battery. But that was Andy any way. He always cared about the guys in Battery C.
Other things like Joe Leon, telling me that he had his first run-in with First Sergeant Godwin as he stepped off the train on his arrival at Camp Edwards. The long walk with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, and it must have really been quite an effort for this brand new recruit, for it never changed his attitude, for even today, Joe still remembers it, and how he cursed out Godwin for picking on him. And there we were moving into our new home, the place we would be calling home for the next 10 months at least, and it was here that we not only learned to be soldiers but also how to take care of ourselves, for we learned that our clothes had to placed on the clothes rack just so, and the Shelter Half and tent pegs and Helmet had to be located to perfection on top of the rack. This was probably the first time in our lives that we had had to hang something up on a hanger, for this was something our mothers and wives had done for us all these years.
First the shelter half had to be folded just right, and then it had to placed just so on the shelf, The five tent pegs had to be spaced between the shelter half folds and on top of all this was our "Diddie Bag" and on top of that was our Steel Helmet and liner. And talk about chicken,, why, the clothes had to hang on the rack below with all the patches facing out. Of course most of us hadn't even picked up a needle, much less know how to use one, and before the patches could face outward, they had to be sewed onto our uniforms. What a mess we made of that. And there was Godwin again ripping off patches that were not exactly one half inch from the seam. And then there were formations and then more formations. Formations for reveille, formations for shots, formations for VD movies, and then formations in raincoats with the Medics looking on.
I can still see McDonald standing on the Day room porch calling of the names for mail call. Naturally, mail was important to just about everybody except those guys from New Bedford and the Cape that lived so close they could be home within an hour. I can recall Sunday picnics under the pines out on the range road on those weekends that I couldn't get a pass. Godwin used to call me "Mommas Boy" and that used to bug me, until I realized that he was just jealous, because he probably was hatched. Trips to the PX, the Service Club and movie theater was all we had to do during our quarantine period, but of course that didn't apply to the Cadre and every now and then they would dress up in their suntans with all their ribbons and I can just hear Jack Robinson saying" If you live long enough, you'll get to look like this". Jack was in the Gun section so it wasn't catching to most of us in the other sections. And then there was physical training, infiltration courses, and of course the rifle range. I can still remember how we got that cosmolene off of our brand new M1 rifles. Into the shower with a GI scrub brush. What a mess. Its a wonder that we didn't clog the drain pipes. Soon, basic training was over and we branched into some real training. We were no longer recruits. We had made it to the second rung on the ladder. Dry runs in the gun park and drivers learning how to drive trucks, getting a military license, and bivouacs. Move into position, set up and more dry runs. It was here that I first met Captain Barlow, our new Battery Commander. I don't know why he chose to join us while we were on bivouac, but I was snug in the sack in my pup tent on that first morning, and when the guard came to wake me to blow reveille, I just couldn't drag myself out into the cold, so I went back to sleep, only to be awakened minutes later, by a grouchy voice calling my name. "Whitlow, this is Captain Barlow, get out of that tent now!" As I recall it, I didn't even wait to put on my fatigues. Now we were off to Scortons Neck and our first fire mission with real live ammo. And then Camp Wellfleet and the sand dunes, where the wind howled in off the ocean, and tent pegs refused to stay rooted in the sand. One tent after another went flying off into the windswept country side with its owners chasing after it. Camp Wellfleet was brand new, and it was so brand new that no one had used the new buildings until we got there. They at last opened up one of the supply rooms for us and that became the CP for C Battery. We all laughed when D Battery almost shot the tail off of the tow plane that was towing the target that we were all firing at. Of course we ended up having to stay another day because that was the last trip the plane made that day. And then there was practice on the moving target range, which was nothing more than a railroad track with a big white target on it. I guess that was to prepare us for our induction into Field Artillery, for in April, we were loaded onto a troop train and we were shipping out to Ft Bragg, NC., where we were supposed to learn how to use our nineties as a field artillery piece.

NOW FORT BRAGG NORTH CAROLINA

Because of the AA patch we wore, we were soon to be called the Animal Area battalion. Of course there was also another reason. That being that we were located in the old Cavalry area. German POWs were basking in the sun, playing soccer, as we sweated out the heat after that cold winter at Camp Edwards. Trips into Fayettville broke the monotony, we could laugh at the comment "heres some more of those dammyankees" Note: On my last trip to Ft. Bragg in 1961 & 62, the Animal Area was no more. In fact the only remaining building was the movie theater and that burnt before I left there. On June 6th, we were all elated over the D-Day invasion and probably thankful at the same time that we were not there also.

CAMP SHANKS NEW YORK

But we were soon off to Camp Shanks NY. This time, leaving our equipment behind. We spent quite a bit of time in Camp Shanks, getting more shots and signing papers, another physical, making out a will, and stuff like that. As the bugler, and one of only two in the whole battalion, Godwin could never put me on KP, because I was always pulling Guard Mount as the bugler. When we got to Shanks though, he made up for lost time and I was up every morning at 5:30 and off to the massive mess hall, where I made more toast in that short period of time than I have made in the rest of my life. These were the days of sleepless nights and long train rides into the big city. The days of "No-Doz" was not yet available, but benzedrine did wonders to keeping us awake during the day. I am sure the boys from New York and New Jersey enjoyed their trips into the city, but they were dragging their fannies by the time we loaded on the Queen Mary for our trip to Europe.

THE QUEEN MARY

And guess what... We were her Majesties KPs for the trip. This actually proved to be a blessing in disguise for as table waiters, we were required to serve two meals a day and seven sittings for each meal, and because of this we were given better quarters than most on board, and not only that, we had free run of the ship. I remember going into what was once the swimming pool area and seeing about 10 bunks high, a three foot aisle between the rows and all crammed into this small space. We were on B Deck in a state room. Of course we only had 16 people in the room, but we felt we had much better quarters than the other people on board. Oh yes. The good part about being a table waiter was that you got to eat more, because there were two waiters to each table, and after the first day, we smartened up and one waiter would eat the first meal and the other would serve the table, then the other waiter would eat the second meal while the other served. Then the rotation started all over again so we were able to eat three breakfasts and three suppers each. We didn't starve like others on board. The long lines at the PX for candy bars etc., was so long it took an hour just to get there in time for them to close the doors.

SCOTLAND AND THEN CAMP BLACKSHAW MOORE

Soon we arrived in Scotland, and I can remember looking over the side and watching the sailors putting crates of eggs and cases of butter and other things onto a small boat, and wondering at the time if this was some of the food that the "guests" didn't get during the trip over. We had to spend another day on board while all the other troops were taken off, and then we too loaded onto a southbound train for a place called Blackshaw Moore where we spent time getting our new equipment; testing it to make sure it worked alright; more physicals and more paper work. And before passes into Leek, a small town a few miles down the road, an indoctrination of how we should act among the natives of England. I can recall going into a movie theater and they played their national anthem before the start of the movie. Of course it didn't sound like ours but I stood up when everyone else did. The dances in Leek certainly brightened the long days. And speaking of long days,,, we awoke at 5:30 every morning and even in July, it was bitter cold, and it was not unusual to see guys falling out with blankets draped around their shoulders, and Jack Robinson shivering so much you could almost hear his bones rattling.

ON TO THE FRENCH COAST AND THE WAR IN EUROPE

Soon we were on our way to France, but first there was a 250 mile ride down the middle of the British Isles to a town called Dorchester. After a long day of riding, I can recall waking up in the back end of a 2-1/2, looking out the back at some women washing down their sidewalk. They treated us to some hot tea and friendly talk and then we were loading onto an LST for our trip across the channel. Our trip was delayed part way across because of bad weather, and we put back into another harbor to wait until the weather got better which was the very next day. Boy chow on board that LST was not too bad with Pork Chops, potatoes and hoodsie cups of ice cream for dessert. Soon after leaving the next day, we approached the beach in France and drove our vehicles and equipment down the ramp and along a dirt road to the beach where we were moved into an apple orchard to await further orders. Rumors had it that we were not supposed to be in France yet so they didn't plan on food for us other than C rations, warmed up in barrels. It was better than nothing and we were lucky that there were a few cows left that could be milked, but of course, most of us city folk didn't know how to milk a cow, so we left that up to guys like Waterman. I always wondered what happened to him for he is not on our roster list anywhere. I'm not sure if it was in this position or one that we moved into a few days later, that I was sitting along side of Ken Whitmore, and we heard a pop and then Ken grabbed his left arm. Someone had been taking apart a 20mm round and the thing went off. I think it was Berkowitz. They both got purple hearts for their wounds. A piece of shrapnel was embedded in Ken's left arm and thankfully I was sitting on his right.

ON TO THE BREST PENINSULA

We were soon on the go again and this time to the Brest Peninsula and our first assignment as an AA outfit. I recall the Free French with their "FFE" arm bands going into the area that we needed to set up our guns and watching them picking up all the mines in the field. They knew where every one of them were and they soon had a pile of them off to one side. The half built Quonset Hut that was supposed to be our kitchen never got much use for we no more than got it started than we got "March Order". It was also in this position that many of our drivers got some action they didn't anticipate, for they were detached to carry supplies to the front for what was later known as the "Red Ball Express". After the fall of the garrison at Brest, it was a mad dash across France to catch up with the front lines. Movement on the roadways was at a standstill many times as the 29th and 30th divisions moved ahead of us to their new locations. About all we saw along the route were bombed out villages, hedgerows and burnt out tanks and equipment that the Germans had left behind. We later learned that this was a hard fought for dash as far as our front line troops were concerned for they had to fight from hedgerow to hedgerow to gain any ground. We soon passed the Palace of Versailles on our way to Paris and then beyond to Bastogne, Belguin., where we once again waited for orders. It was just a stop over place and I think the 132nd was blessed from the start, because there were all kinds of things that happened to us and in most cases we came out of them with very few injuries. This place was one of those kind of things, because some one got trigger happy and while on Guard duty, sprayed the woods where everyone had put up his pup tent, with his Thompson Sub-machine gun, and no one was injured. Firing on the Siegfried line pill boxes was like skipping a stone across the water, because our shells just bounced off that cement. You could stand there and watch the Germans as they did their laundry, and when a round came in they would just run back into the pill box until the firing stopped, and then come right back out to what they were doing.

LUXEMBOURG THE MUD HOLE

Then we were off to Luxembourg and the mud hole position that we were to call home for a few days. I can picture the guns as they settled into the mud and the mess section setting up in some woods nearby. I can also picture me getting a jeep so stuck in the mud that when I tried to pull it out with a 3/4, that got stuck also. Ed Cormie had to pull me out with one of the tractors. I thought he'd kill me, but I'm still here. Ice Cream and cakes were as nice as Luxembourg city itself and walking over that stone bridge and looking down into the valley below was like looking out of an airplane at all the small houses below. After reading the Battalion book, I find that other people saw more of Luxembourg than what we did, for I don't remember a high level meeting with Generals and Cadillacs, while I was there. From Luxembourg City, we moved to Heerleen Holland, and about the only thing I can remember about this cite was that we were shelled quite heavily, and the hot showers we took in the coal mine. The clothes of the miners hanging on hooks that raised in the air by pulleys. Julie Mandell and I shared a pup tent in Heerleen, and we were awakened one night with shells going off overhead and shrapnel plopping in the mud around us. When we woke the next morning and saw the size of the pieces, we dug the tent in deeper that same day. After a few nights of this kind of shelling, we were ready to blame everybody. In fact, someone got the idea that a light we could see through the trees was a signal to the Germans. One of our machine guns sprayed the woods but the light never went out. The following day, Lt. Landry, his driver and myself went looking for the light. It proved to be an American Bakery's loading dock. The light still burned bright even in the day light.

OUR FIRST REAL COMBAT UNDER FIRE

I was part of an advance party for Communications, that was sent to Niedermerz to look over the location for setting up the switchboard. There was Green, Hurr and myself on the party. The ride to Niedermerz was anything but pleasant for there were German dead still lying along the roadway, and even a dead horse laying in a stream. the same stream that they were using to process the water we would be drinking. When we approached the field that the guns would be setting up in, we could look across it, and ahead about a mile we could see burning tanks and trucks. To us all, this seemed like we were pretty close to the front. American dead laid in the fox holes in the apple orchard that we were to use as our communications center. There were packages of K Rations all over the place that had once belonged to the 20 or thirty American soldiers that lost their lives here because of an air burst over their heads. In the village was also a company of Combat Engineers and they had the job of cleaning up the area that we were to use. I guess that war is war, but it left a bad taste in my mouth, for these engineers stripped those GIs of rings and watches before taking them off to grave registration. The battery finally moved up and it was here that we held our last formation in the ETO. There we were on the edge of the woods and lined up in formation when we were strafed by a plane. Everyone flew for the best hiding place they could find.There were no more formations after that. Niedermerz was also the place where we lost two of our good friends, Glen Bredlow and George Gauss. We also learned that when you hear the click of a basket opening up over your head you ran for the nearest foxhole. McDonald and I went after mail one night and as we were returning from Battalion the flares started dropping all around us. Because there had been reports of paratroopers in our area, and we thought for sure we were in the middle of their drop zone. And then how about the green outfit that moved in behind us and started firing 40mm rounds into our gun revetments until finally Captain Barlow got upset and gave an "Open Fire on them". The next morning, we found a dead cow in that direction. and I guess the other outfit moved out under cover of darkness. Somewhere along about this time, the communications section with John Green in charge was picking up wire after the battery had moved to a new location. We were spending the night in a school house near St. Vith. About 2 AM John woke every one up and said we're moving out, and we did. The next morning St. Vith was wiped off the map by the Germans advance on Bastogne.

THE BATTLE OF THE BULGE

And this was the fore runner of the Battle of the Bulge and then our move to Venwegen and the top of the hill, where we spent our Christmas and New Years. Lunch time Jerry was coming over every noon while we would be eating, but one day Arthur Ethier fooled him and bore sighted on the plane and fired. Whether Arthur got him or someone else makes little difference for he went down about a half mile away from the position. Any one remember where we found that piano for Ernie Landry that we hauled into this position? Never forget that "Sentimental Journey" that he did so well, and how about "Bing Mahoney" and his voice on those cold winter nights. It was here that I had to spend a few days in the 109th clearing station because of Phunomia. As the snows melted and poared into our dugout, I awoke to find myself underwater because I was on the low end of the dugout. Thus a few days at the 109th, sweating it out of me with cognac and sulfur pills. I was back to the outfit in about 4 or 5 days. Remember the Sherman Tanks sliding down the roadway on the icy hill across from us. Sliding sideways that is. It was a hard winter for everyone, and then the Bulge was over and we moved right back to Niedermerz to the same site we had before. We were getting ready for the push over the Roer River, through Julich and on to the Rhine. We were used as field artillery once again for both crossings, and for the Rhine crossing we fired so many rounds that everybody in the battery had a chance to act as gunner. I learned from that, why they pick strong arm gunners. After pushing a few rounds into the chamber, you couldn't feel your arms any more. Things were happening very fast about this time and I recall only bits and pieces of what actually took place. I can recall moving into a town where the ground was nothing but shale that you couldn't even scratch with a shovel, so we went looking for bales of hay to make up the gun revetments with. While we were getting the hay, I remember an American tank coming into town and wanting to know what we were doing there, because they hadn't cleared the town yet of German troops. Evidently there were none around for we had been walking the street for at least 3 hours. In fact, the towns folk were waving at us when we rode in earlier. And after the Rhine crossing, I can remember nightly gatherings at one of the guns, where , with the help from a farmers potato mound and lard from his farm house, we had french fries every night over an open fire near the gun. In fact I think the farmer even supplied the pot.

THE MAD DASH TO THE END

And then the real mad dash for the Elbe river just a few short weeks later. Every time we would move to the front, we would find that the front line had moved another hundred miles further. It was a constant move, set up, and move again the next day. I remember Drisdell driving up with a prisoner riding on his folded down windshield, and was he mad. The prisoner had broken his windshield on the first bump they went over. That jeep may have belonged to Captain Barlow, but in all essence, it was Drisdells. And how about the time we replaced the self-propelled howitzers and because they had created so much trouble for the Jerries, they had the locations zeroed in, and then they moved out and we moved in. Guess who got the worst of it from their 88s. This is the same place where the round hit the back of the building and sealed off the guys in the switchboard located in the cellar, and then the next round comes right into the same hole the first one made and into the room where the gun crews slept. Once again, we cheated disaster, for we were all eating chow at the time. As a bugler, I had no specific job overseas, but I consider myself lucky, (maybe not the sections I was assigned to) for I was used as a filler for what ever section needed someone. It gave me the opportunity to learn just about everything in the battery. I'm not too sure if it all sunk in or not because after awhile I felt like a Yo-Yo going from one section to another. During our stay mentioned above, I was part of the Machine Gun section and once again acquired the wrath of Captain Barlow by emptying a clip of M1 ammo trying to hit a jack rabbit running across the field. This is also about the only place I was nervous about the shelling, for they were coming in so close to that machine gun that you could hear the shrapnel bouncing off the revetment and over our heads. I couldn't get far enough under that Quad mount trailer, and I wasn't alone. St. O'Rourke was pushing me under further to make room for himself, either that or he was trying to protect me. I didn't stop to think about it at the time.

VICTORY IN EUROPE

And then came VE-Day and the grand celebration that the war in Europe was finally over. It was a hell raising event also, like tossing hand grenades in the pond to see how many fish we could knock out from the detonation, or if you can recall, there were a bunch of railroad box cars behind the farm house where we were staying, and they contained cases and cases of light bulbs. It was too much of a temptation not to jump in the middle of all of them just to hear them pop. But the choice event was when the Communications crew decided they were going to push the siren buttons on the tractors that were lined up along side the farm house. The officers were having a party in the building and we had to make sure we didn't get caught. It was a well planned operation too. But when I got to the first one, I forgot to wait for Barnes to get to the last one and pushed the button too soon. We all ran like a bunch for a hiding place, but Barnes forgot the manure pile behind the barn and went headfirst in it. Have you ever lost all the strength you ever had and couldn't move? There's Barnes at the bottom of this manure pit which was about 5 foot deep asking me to help him out and I just didn't have the strength to do anything but stand there laughing. When he finally got out of the hole, he walked into the switchboard room which was located in the cellar, dripping manure all over the place. We had the sweetest smelling quarters in the whole of the ETO for the remainder of our stay there. And how about Red Crawford shooting himself in the foot with his carbine. I think he did it on purpose just to get out of that kitchen. And then came the big move backwards from where we had just come. The German civilians, in just about anything that would roll was also on the highways trying to get away from the Russians that were going to take over this area. Its surprising to me, how they knew the Russians were going to be taking over this part for occupation. I didn't know that. I think it was in Gernan, Germany that we went to to set up our military government / Army of Occupation. This was the place where the cows all marched through main street on their way to the pasture and then back in the evening for milking. This place was also the stop over place that the train had to use every night because it was not allowed to travel after dark. Naturally, someone had to check out the train for ID papers and it was sometimes a pleasurable job especially if there were any friendly frauleins on board. And how about the little bar room or tavern down the street where we all spent a few hours, and to watch the women that did our laundry was even something special. They would beat them on a stone with a paddle and not even break a thread and beside that they looked cleaner than they ever did. All for a few marks and a bar of GI soap.

THE LAST HURRAH FOR BATTERY C?

Our last position for C Battery was really a festive one, for we took over our own bar and used it for a dance hall and partying. I think the place was Wickenrode. And then the sad news came. We were all not going home together as we had come over. Those with more points would get to go home first. The 132nd was breaking up. Some of us went to the 465th AW AAA battalion. I was assigned to the headquarters unit as a switchboard operator, and after what seemed like years, we too had enough points to go home. The 465th was assigned to Heilbron Germany, and they too acted as a Military Government unit. They were in charge of the Electric company and the telephone company. It became my job to set up a movie theater also and this was a racket, for we would drive to Stuttgart twice a week to pick up movies and then show them to all the units in the city every evening. And then we were on our way home aboard the Victory ship, the SS Webster. Coming home across the North Atlantic in March was most unpleasant to most on board, but I was lucky to meet up with the Bosun on the ship who lived in the town of Acushnet, the next door neighbor of New Bedford, so I ate with the crew and because I knew him I got a berth in the crews quarters. My actual assigned bunk was about thirteen high in the hole of the ship and a trip to the latrine was like a slip and slide walk after a heavy sea because just about everyone was seasick. And then finally discharge at Fort Devens. I don't even remember what port we came into and how I got from there to Ft. Devens. I just knew that I was on my way home. I had made it. I had been to war and returned safely. Something a nineteen year old kid really didn't worry about. But at twenty, it crossed my mind. This is just my way of adding to C Battery's history through the eyes of a nineteen year old. I am sure than many of you could add much more to this history book but since no one offered, I guess your stuck with my version. If its wrong then you can correct me later and I'll change it. The only thing that bothers me about my writing of this history is that there was really so very much more to it than these few pages can portray. Even as I bring it to an end, I recall things like, one of our brand new tractors having an engine burned out in it, or drying our laundry on Hennessy's generator exhaust, or sitting around the mess area pealing spuds for the next day, or going looting for mattresses and "Tickas" in German homes, and even robbing a bank in Grefrath and finding old German Marks laying all over the floor. I still have a few of them left too. Worthless as they may be, a souvenir. To all the men of Battery C, thank you for everything that happened, I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. You made my life in the army bearable and in many ways enjoyable. So much so in fact, that I put in 21 more years in the National Guard after I got out. And I'm not the only one that did this same thing, for Fred Moone, Ernie Landry, Sgt. O'Rourke and Howie Bergeron are also retired army. There must have been something about our outfit that made it a lot different from other outfits. And I believe it was the men that were part of it. Battery "C" is still holding reunions every year and if you read this message and would like a copy, or would like to attend, or find out more informations about the reunions, send me an E-Mail message. (See my Home Page for E- mail connection) Back to Louies Home Page