On 1944 furlough, before going overseas

By Wendell Nicholls
As told to Mary Louis 

I was born in Sonora, California on April 30, 1921. My family lived in Soulsbyville, just up the hill from Sonora. I lived there for the first 25 years of my life. My parents were Evelyn and Royal Nicholls. I had four siblings. Aileen, Ruth, and Francis were my natural sisters. My parents also took in a neighbor girl, Betty Burgess, and raised her as part of our family.

My upbringing played a large part in my future military life. Our home in Soulsbyville was next to the Methodist Church, which we all attended. My dad needed my help running errands and for that I needed a driver’s license. He asked the Captain of the Highway Patrol, who sang bass in the church choir with us, if I could get a driver’s license, so at age 14 I drove our 1927 Chevy to Sonora, parked at Mundorf’s Mercantile, and went to the CHP office in the back of the Sonora Inn to see the captain. He told me to drive around the block. When I did so, he came out, said he had seen me drive by, and had me sign a paper to receive my license in the mail. I drove trucks as well as the car for errands.

Dad drove the school bus from Soulsbyville to Sonora High School and he was also the maintenance man for the school. Then school then needed Dad full-time for the maintenance job, and asked me to drive the bus down from Soulsbyville in the morning and drive the kids back home in the afternoon. I was 17 and a junior in high school at the time. I was in the school band with a certain girl named Beatrice Poor who became my girlfriend and then, after the war, my wife. Because I was in the band, I had to drive the football team and band to all the games. The bus drivers were paid $65 per month as a flat fee.

After graduation, I worked at Opera Hall Garage on Washington Street in Sonora as a mechanic and then shop foreman. This was before my future brother-in-law, Robert (Bob) Rundle, married into the family, went to war, then worked there too.

We followed the news of war in Europe carefully and knew that sooner or later America would be involved. My sister Ruth’s fiancé had been drafted in February of 1941 so I knew my time was coming.

Drafted

My number came up in 1942. There were 25 draftees from Sonora, and I was put in charge of bus tickets and rounding up everyone. I was probably considered the most responsible because of my school bus driving and work history and, at 21, I was older than most of the others. Finally, we all boarded the bus and traveled to Monterey to report for duty at The Presidio. It was July 29, 1942.

I was assigned to the Third Army, 20^th Corps, Headquarters Company, 171^st Medical Battalion. We were sent to Camp Barkeley near Abilene in Western Texas, for basic training. I went on 25-mile hikes, marching drills, and drove jeeps and trucks. The boys from the Northeast did not know how to drive manual-shift vehicles so I was selected to do a lot of the driving since I had been driving stick shifts and large vehicles since I was 14.

After six months of boot camp, many of the soldiers were deployed to Europe. I was not so lucky. I had to endure two more years of the dry West Texas wind at the same base. Our unit would have done anything to escape West Texas. Every six months we had furlough for two weeks. That was a joke, because most of the leave time was spent on train travel to and from home. At least I was able to see Beatrice and my family a few times before being sent overseas.

Passage to England

In early March, 1944, we knew we were about to receive orders to move out because we were allowed a final furlough before deployment. From Camp Barkeley, we took a train to Camp Kilmer, New Jersey, just across the Hudson River from New York City. We were supposed to wait there for three days to leave on the Queen Elizabeth, a British ship, but we were there 18 days. En route to America, the reassigned liner encountered a fierce storm on the Atlantic, causing some major damage. When the repairs were completed, we sailed for Scotland.

The ports in southern England were under such heavy German fire that we had to land further north. The ship took seven days to cross the Atlantic Ocean in a zigzag pattern to avoid enemy bombings. We landed at Glasgow in early April, 1944 and took the train to Stone, in the English Midlands. A friend of mine from boot camp, Albert Smith (we called him Smitty) arrived in England before me. His unit was sent ahead to prepare the way for the incoming troops. He met me at the train and put me in the driver’s seat of a supply truck so I could learn how to drive on the “wrong” side of the road. The sergeants were surprised to see me already in the driver’s seat and wondered how I rated. Smitty knew that I could drive anything and under any conditions.

In uniform

For a couple of weeks I drove a colonel around England to meetings and anywhere else he wanted to go. I had to sit in the jeep and wait for an hour or two at a time. I felt like a glorified chauffeur. I was so bored that I asked to be transferred to the supply company.

My best friend in the Army, John E. Maxwell, Jr. from Superior, Nebraska, was in the supply company and may have helped with my transfer to his company. We spent two months running around England picking up necessary supplies before heading south towards England’s coast. We knew D-Day was fast approaching.

The sky over South Hampton, England was humming with enemy aircraft shelling of Allied positions along the coast. We also heard our aircraft taking off to fly missions across the English Channel in France. Our tents were hidden in the trees for the three days we were there. We could hear the Allies landing at an airport just north of us. Of course, everything in South Hampton was blacked out at night due to the bombings. Some of the soldiers would go into town to soak up a little at the pubs. They could see the port full of ships and they heard all the stories buzzing. Yes, D-Day would definitely be soon.

Omaha Beach  

Finally, 10 days after General Eisenhower embarked on the famous D-Day invasion on June 6, 1944, we left with our six jeeps and three trucks in a ship. I had to drive a wrecker truck that held parts, tools, and a crane on the back. The motor-pool Sergeant, “Sgt. Red,” rode with me.

Nicholls picked up this pamphlet dropped in England by the Germans

All did not go smoothly in our crossing. Our takeoff was fine but we had to wait two days for our ship to land. The tide had to come in so the ramp could be put down and all the vehicles landed. Talk about feeling like a sitting duck! There we were, waiting and hoping no enemy aircraft would see us to blow us to pieces. There was bombing all around but our ship wasn’t hit. My company suffered no casualties.

When we finally landed at the Omaha beachhead in Normandy on June 27, 1944, we discovered that the Germans were retreating from the coast from the advancing Allied Forces. We moved inland to Saint-Lô, kept on the move, and finally rolled into Paris four months after our landing. It was Armistice Day, Nov. 11, 1944. There was a big parade in Paris to mark the liberation of France in WWI.

We headed east of Paris into what was called the “No Man’s Land of WWI” on the Brittany Peninsula. We had British forces to our north and American troops to our south. Patton was moving so fast that the forces were having trouble keeping up. My company’s gas was taken away to give to the companies of soldiers making the advance. Patton was trying to penetrate the Siegfried Line at the German border to surprise the Nazis.

Typical condition of railroad stations

Under Fire      

We were stuck for awhile, and spent time scrounging around for gas. One night I was standing guard when there was loud artillery fire from tanks a mile up ahead. It scared the hell out of us.

I was outside the tent of the company commander, Lt. Colonel Garifalos Kapopoulos from Pennsylvania, when he said, “Guard, guard, what’s that noise?”

I replied, “I don’t know.”

“Well, when you find out, let me know,” he said, then rolled over and went back to sleep. That’s how “concerned” he was about the nearby shelling. I found out the next morning that the tank gunners thought they saw enemy coming across the field so they fired in that direction. It turned out not to be the enemy at all, but some animals.

Lt. Colonel Kapopoulos was not well liked. One day he called for an inspection. His orderly, “Tex,” reported without his dog tags. “Why don’t you have your dog tags, soldier?” the Lt. Colonel barked.

Tex answered, “They broke because I was digging your g-damned foxhole, Sir!”

The Lt. Colonel turned to the First Sergeant and said, “Instruct that man not to speak to me like that!”

With Regic en route to Paris

[Even with a lack of gas, the Third Army forced the German line at Moselle River by first crossing Meurthe River and establishing a bridgehead across the Moselle. They arrived at the city of Metz, France, which was well defended by the Germans. They were forced into a “rest period” to build up supplies, ammunition, and winter clothing before attacking the city. General Patton declared, “The road home is through Metz.” It was the second week in November in 1944, and it was very cold. During the holding period, Patton met with General Eisenhower and General Montgomery from the English army. Finally Eisenhower gave Patton the green light to attack. On November 18, 1944, the Americans broke through the German defenses to surround Metz. Finally the Germans surrendered Metz. It was the first time that it was conquered by enemy forces since 451 A.D.]^[1]

[During the winter, rain made the roads muddy but the Third Army pressed onwards and established a bridgehead at the Saar River. Many of the soldiers developed “trench foot,” so Patton ordered foot care to reduce troop casualties. Patton was very goal directed. He wanted to punch through the Siegfried line into the coal mining region of Germany and keep moving until he took Berlin.]^[2]

[But Gen. Eisenhower stopped the Third Army’s forward progress. There was a problem with Gen. Hodges’ 1^st Army’s battle to the north. Eisenhower placed the 1^st and 9^th US Armies from Gen. Bradley’s 12^th Army Group with British Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery’s 21^st Army. The Germans attacked and surrounded Bastogne in Belgium. Their plan was to push towards Liege. Liege was key to the Allies because that is where they had supplies stored. The Allies could see that after Liege, the Germans would press on towards the port city of Antwerp.

Patton was ordered to turn his army 90 degrees and head north to attack the south flank of the German army in support of the 1^st US Army and Montgomery’s British troops. Patton did as he was told. It only took three days for Patton’s men and artillery to be in position to engage the Germans surrounding Bastogne. This was the famous Battle of the Bulge, named for the “bulge” that Hitler’s Panzer Division made in the Allied defenses.

On December 26, 1944 the Third Army supporting the Fourth Armored Division Task Force started pushing the Germans back beyond the Siegfried Line for the last time. The effort to push back the enemy lasted into the third week of January, 1945.] ^[3] [4]

A town about the size of Sonora, not a building untouched, 1945

Battle of the Bulge

Our medical division was ordered north from Metz to tend to our soldiers engaged in the Battle of the Bulge. We left Metz and moved through Thionville, ultimately ending up in Luxembourg, Belgium, just south of where the intense fighting was occurring. 

We took over the home of the Scheltz family in Esch, Luxembourg, which was a modern coal town. The home was three stories tall. The ground floor was for the family business, which had been a radio shop before the war. We occupied the second floor and the family took the third floor.

There were three girls in the family. The oldest was engaged to a Parliament representative. The middle daughter was engaged to a jeweler. The youngest girl was named Ann. All of us soldiers befriended the entire family. When the girls went downstairs, we were allowed to speak with them outside. I took Ann to see a movie, which she really enjoyed.

The home had been heated with coal, through a basement furnace. But coal was unavailable to the family since the beginning of the war four years earlier. There was a coal pit in town. I took a truck there and did some bargaining. Finally, I offered the yard manager a box of Spam for some coal. I returned to the Scheltz home and asked Ann to go get her father. When he came out I asked, “Where do you want me to dump this coal?” He was amazed and opened the coal chute in the sidewalk. They received an entire truckload of coal for the rest of the winter.

It was nearing Christmas, so some buddies and I went into the hills and cut down a tree for the family’s Christmas. Joyfully, the girls decorated the tree. We looked forward to spending Christmas with the family in a warm place. But Lt. Col. Kapopoulos had other plans. He had a girlfriend in a town that we had passed through en route to Esch. He wanted to spend Christmas with her. So he ordered us to depart the Scheltz home on Christmas Eve to go south. It was dark and rainy and we had to face the oncoming jeep and U.S. tank traffic headed north towards the Battle of the Bulge fighting. We were not happy with the Lt. Colonel. After Christmas we joined the rest of the Third Army pursuing the German army as they retreated through the Siegfried line.

[The Battle of the Bulge ended January 25, 1945. The Third Army kept pushing the enemy through Germany to the Rhine River.]^[5]

Germany   

Hardly a bridge in Europe that didn't look like this

When we came to the Rhine River we discovered that it flowed south to north. The Army engineers had built a pontoon bridge to cross the Rhine. It caused me a little concern because all the jeeps, tanks, and trucks were crossing the mile-long bridge at the same time I was driving my wrecker truck. I hoped that the rubber that the pontoons were made out of would last, and not be shot at by enemy troops. But we made it across safely and moved into Friedburg, where we established a bridgehead.

We stayed in Friedburg for a week at the home of a nice lady, whose husband was a Nazi SS Trooper on the German front line towards Russia. Lt. Col. Kapopoulos befriended the woman and soon made her his girlfriend. Apparently, the woman’s husband was well paid because whenever he traveled he brought home expensive wine. Our soldiers discovered the wine cellar and “appropriated” some of the contents, hiding bottles in the parts bins in my truck. I was the only one with a key, so when the Lt. Colonel discovered some of the wine missing he could not find it.

There was a lot of traffic on the nearby autobahn, which was seriously pockmarked by German bombing. In order to proceed up the highway, the Army had to use tanks with caterpillar tracks on the road. Some tank operators allowed us to drive a tank, just to be able to say we had driven one. But the soldiers were not careful and parked a tank on some lady’s front lawn. With all the comings and goings of the soldiers on their joyrides, the lawn was soon torn up. The Lt. Colonel then ordered the tank to be parked off the lawn, but the damage had already been done.

We all thought we were headed for Berlin. In Friedburg I spoke with a German pilot who had been injured in the war (he lost a leg) and was then discharged from the German military service. He told me that it would be a very bad idea to let Russia take Berlin. But after a meeting with Eisenhower, Montgomery and Churchill, Patton was told not to go to Berlin because the Allies wanted Russia to occupy Berlin. The German pilot was concerned that Russia would stay in Berlin in retribution for what the Germans had done in Russia.

[On April 10, 1945 as the Third Army was headed for the Mulde River, Eisenhower again ordered Patton to stop. Patton wanted to reach Berlin before the Russians could claim it. He and Eisenhower argued. Patton, his troops and artillery were ordered to Austria. So in the end Patton lost his bid to continue towards Berlin. The 20^th and 21^st Corps trapped the Germans in the Hunsrück Mountains. Germany’s withdrawal quickly became a rout. In March 1945 the Germans were eventually trapped in the Wiesbaden and Bingen area. The Third Army’s final campaign was to cross the Danube River into Czechoslovakia and Austria. The Germans finally surrendered all of Germany on May 8, 1945. The official end of the war in Europe was May 9, 1945, VE Day.]^[6]

Austria

We moved into Austria. The Germans had already surrendered the area. It was kind of a vacation for us because it was so beautiful. We went into the foothills of the Alps and took over a big estate originally owned by a French Postmaster General.

The Germans took it over during the war as a location where their soldiers could make babies with beautiful girls to build up the Aryan race. After the Germans left, Lt. Colonel Kapopoulos loaded all 30 girls into ambulances and took them to local hospitals.

We took over the whole estate. It was located in Gmunden on Traunsee Lake on the Traun River. We commandeered a motorboat for our leisure, but the boating excursions ended when we discovered the boat had been stolen.

Emaciated men at Ebensee

Ebensee Prison Camp  

Just four or five miles south of the estate in Gmunden was a German prison camp called Ebensee. The prisoners were dying at the rate of 100 per day from all the hard labor they were forced to do. The Germans were having them dig tunnels into the mountain in which the German engineers built a jet engine plant. The corpses were shoved into the furnaces. When the town learned of the atrocity they demanded that the Germans bury the dead prisoners. The bodies were then brought outside the gates on carts, and the townspeople were forced to dig their graves alongside the road. When the mayor of the town saw what his people were being forced to do, he went home and shot himself.

The Americans liberated the camp, opened the gates and the German 10^th Army surrendered on May 7, 1945. They came out and threw their weapons in the Allied trucks. I was not there to observe their surrender, but heard about it from Smitty, who was there. The prisoners came out of the gates looking like walking skeletons.

The far end of the estate where we were staying was near the prison camp. The day after the gates were opened, I was walking through the grounds and discovered four men hiding in the brush. They still feared the Germans. They spoke Polish amongst themselves. I went to get a jeep driver from my outfit, Stanley Regiec, who was part Polish, and took him to the prisoners. We assured them they were safe. They were starving so Reg and I went to the estate kitchen for food for them. We had to take them light food at first so that their digestive systems could adjust. They had been surviving on watered-down bean soup, and had lost so much weight that they could not have hiked into the main part of the compound.

As they gained strength, we were able to feed them more and bring them out of their small camp in the shrubs. We gave them some of our used clothing; what they were wearing was just rags, and filthy. I remember two of the prisoners’ names. One was a Russian boy, 18 years old, named Russ. Another man we called “Oscar” was from Poland. The Nazis shot his wife, so he felt like he had nothing left to live for at home.

Oscar and I became friends. When Oscar put on an American Army shirt, he said, “Me, American soldat!” He couldn’t do enough for me. He felt like I was responsible for him being alive. So when I changed clothes in the evening when I was off duty, Oscar grabbed my uniform off my bed and took them into town to be cleaned and returned them freshly cleaned and pressed for me. He even hung them up.

After the former prisoners were healthy enough to travel, we took them to their embassy to arrange for the trip home. Of the four men we rescued, Oscar stayed the longest. We stayed six months after VE Day. When we were getting ready to leave, I took Oscar to the Polish embassy. He hugged me around my neck in almost a strangle hold.

Oscar, the Polish man who helped me out a lot

Discharge   

Our trip home was not speedy. We drove the trucks through Germany to France and turned them in outside of Paris. Then we took a train to the coast of France, and from there, a ship back to the U.S. The crossing took 12 days. We landed in Camp Patrick Henry in Virginia. Then we flew to Camp Kilmer, New Jersey, where we stayed for a few days before flying to California by way of Georgia and Texas. We landed in Sacramento, again for refueling, then flew to Camp Beale, near where Travis Air Force Base is today. I was discharged there on Nov. 8, 1945. They gave me a “Ruptured Duck,” which was a cloth medal, and $100 in cash. The other $100 of my discharge money was mailed to my home.

My folks came to meet me at Camp Beale and saw me marching up the street with my unit. The parents brought my sisters, Betty, Beatrice, and some cousins—two cars of people. We stopped in Stockton on the way home to see cousins. Then we went on home to Soulsbyville.

Civilian Life

On December 2, 1945, within a few weeks of my return, Beatrice and I were married. I took two months off and then went back to work at the Opera Hall Garage. Beatrice worked at the Purity Store in town with Ruth, my sister. Her earnings and my discharge money saw us through for my first two months home. Bea and I settled onto her father’s ranch, a wheat farm called “Lower Bear Creek Ranch.”

Beatrice and I had four children: Carolyn on Nov. 5, 1946; Dennis on June 26, 1948; Mike on Feb. 27, 1953; and Kurt on Nov. 11, 1957.

I continued working at the Opera Hall until after it sold and new owners took over. In fact, I stayed with the new employers when they moved the business up Mono Way near Sullivan Creek. The business became Mother Lode Motors. I worked there for another five years and retired around 1987.

My wife worked as a bus driver for the Jamestown school district. She had to drive students on field trips as far away as San Francisco, and wanted me to go with her. Then, she started to want me to relieve her when she became tired on the trips, so I got a school bus driver’s license. I ended up substituting for bus drivers in all of the surrounding school districts, too. So my retirement years were full. Not only was I driving school bus, but I was also taking care of the ranch after Bea’s father died. Then Bea developed Alzheimer’s disease, and I helped take care of her too. Bea passed away on Jan. 21, 2011.

Bea and I did have some time between my retirement and her passing to travel. We traveled with the SIRs (Sons in Retirement) group to Canada, England, Scotland, Florida and Nevada. We took several trips alone to nearby areas, too. We quit traveling when Bea’s disease became more advanced.

Reflections

Like many soldiers, I regretted being torn away from my family and Beatrice. But we were able to correspond through letters back and forth. My letters home were censored. We were not supposed to take pictures, but I did sneak and take a whole album’s worth of pictures. I carried the film home with me. If I had mailed it with the letters, the pictures would have been confiscated and I would have faced discipline.

We had sufficient provisions even while I was overseas, except when we were in the eastern part of France and had to scrounge for gas. But we had plenty of food. In the combat zone and on the move, we had K-rations, which were large boxes full of canned food, which our cook prepared into fairly decent meals. When we were stopped we were able to eat local food so our meals did not become boring.

Newspaper headlines

When we were in combat zones in France and Germany I did experience some stress. But when we reached Austria it was so beautiful, it was comparatively like a vacation. I did not use any good luck charms when we were in the combat zones. I just used my common sense to stay alive.

My medical corps was under fire when, before landing in Normandy, we were stalled in the English Channel by the tide. We had to keep dodging German fighter plane shelling.

The other close call was when we crossed the pontoon bridge at Friedburg, Germany. But we were behind Patton’s artillery and infantry, so the enemy was pretty much pushed back by the time we arrived for medical support and with supplies.

I did have some leave time, especially in the States and England. But even when we were assigned to more active war zones, I always managed to have a little “play” time. Most of the soldiers smoked, talked, played cards and drank. But I enjoyed going off by myself to sightsee and take pictures. There were entertainers who visited. I saw Bob Hope twice, one time in Regensburg, Germany en route to Gmunden. I don’t remember where I was when I saw him the other time. Red Skelton also entertained us. Vaughn Monroe’s band played big band music for us, and in Paris we saw Glenn Miller’s band. Glenn Miller was lost at sea on the way to Paris; his plane was never found. But his “band played on.” The drummer, Ray McKinley, took over the  band. 

My position enabled me to travel quite a bit in Europe and England. I had to test jeeps. Sometimes higher-ranking personnel would ask me to put the “Road Test” sign on a jeep and drive them around to sightseeing points. I was always glad to oblige as long as I had my trusty camera.

Hijinks with Smitty   

When asked if I joined in on any pranks during the service, I remembered a huge stunt that my buddy Smitty and I pulled. After our battalion left Esch, I kept up correspondence with Ann. I learned that her next oldest sister was getting married, but they had no access to champagne for the wedding reception. We were in Germany at the time and I was able to find plenty of champagne in the wine country there.

When we were encamped, we had electricity courtesy of a generator. Smitty was in charge of the generator, and would always ask me to help whenever it broke down. He was in a different unit from mine but my lieutenant colonel approved my helping out.

We torched the cylinder head gasket of the generator purposely and told Smitty’s Colonel Moore that we had to drive back along our route to obtain parts for it. The colonel gave permission, and Smitty and I drove night and day to reach Esch. We delivered the jeep load of champagne, but had to leave before the wedding so that we would remain in Col. Moore’s good graces.

Smitty and I passing through Nuremberg

Friendships Revisited

Ann Scheltz and I kept up our correspondence for two years after the war was over. Finally Ann thought we should discontinue our letter writing when she fell in love with someone in Esch.

I have not joined any veterans’ organizations and we have had no formal reunions. But Bea and I traveled to Kalamazoo, Michigan to see Smitty. He and his family came out to visit my family for a week. As a graduation gift for my daughter Carolyn, I paid for her to visit Smitty’s family in Michigan so she could experience traveling on her own.

We also visited John Maxwell in Nebraska one time. He was just out of the hospital when we arrived, but we were able to meet his family. Several Army buddies have visited our home.

I think I am the same person now that I was before the war. It did not change me. I was just anxious to get the hell out of there and get home when my tour of duty was finished.

When asked what I thought about war, after having experienced it firsthand, I reiterated what William Tecumseh Sherman said: War is hell.

Mr. Nicholls, 90, was interviewed by volunteer Mary Louis in late 2011 for the Tuolumne Veterans History Project, whose volunteers are working to save the stories of World War II veterans in Tuolumne County, California.

Mr. Nicholls, 90, March 2012

Sources

1,2 and 5,6 “The Third Army in WWII,” by Charles M. Province courtesy of  “The Patton

Society Research Library” website.

3  Ambrose, Stephen E. (1997)  “Americans at War.” University of Mississippi

Press, p.208.

4  Bradley, Omar N.(1983)  “A General’s Life: An Autobiography.” The University

of Michigan, pp. 383-385.

Other Helpful Resources                                                 

“Headline Histories” reproductions of front pages from the Los Angeles Examiner, reprinted by John R. Scholl & SSC, Inc.

Bob in 1941 at Fort Ord

By Robert Rundle
as told to Mary Louis

I was born in Stockton, California to William and Pearl Rundle.  Two and a half years earlier my brother, William, had been born. I lived on Ophir Street in Stockton and had some very good buddies across the street. They were cousins to a certain girl, Ruth Nicholls, who lived in Soulsbyville, Tuolumne County but who visited her cousins frequently. We all grew up together. Even at an early age I hoped that Ruth would become my wife.

I graduated from Stockton High School. Back then there was only one high school there. After high school, I worked as a mechanic in my father’s garage.

“You’re in the Army Now”

My plan was to join the Army, but Uncle Sam drafted me in February of 1941 before I had a chance to enlist. [The draft was initiated in October of 1940 by President Roosevelt.]1 My first stop was the Presidio in Monterey for paperwork processing and testing their Jeeps. I was assigned to the 7^th Division, 17^th Infantry, 2^nd Battalion, Headquarters Company as a mechanic technician. Next I went to basic training in Fort Ord in Monterey County, California. Because of my work experience they had me working in their repair shop. I remember Lt. Hunt from Fort Ord because we worked closely together. There were several other men assigned to my same company that stayed with me throughout the war. I was closest to Quinto Spinelli and Sgt. Kenneth Gay.

There was such a need at the repair shop that I did not have to endure the 20-mile hikes for the other infantry soldiers.  But I did target practice, and I was an excellent marksman. This came from all the hunting and fishing I did as a kid. I knew which end of a gun was which before I entered the Army. I guess my early years hunting, fishing and working in my father’s garage served me well in the Army.

I had wanted to serve one year and then be discharged so Ruth and I could be married early in 1942. But my plans were quickly changed on December 7^th, 1941 with the bombing of Pearl Harbor. I was still in basic training but was up in Soulsbyville on leave visiting Ruth and her family that day. Ruth and I were up in the mountains cutting a Christmas tree. When we returned to Ruth’s parents’ home, her mother told us the news. I high-tailed it back to Fort Ord.

From Fort Ord I was sent up the California coast to various coves and bays to Santa Rosa. My mission was to deliver trucks and supplies to those areas in case of attack on the U.S. mainland. From Fort Ord I was sent to San Luis Obispo for desert training, including a week in the Mojave Desert. We all thought we would be fighting in North Africa.

Since Ruth and I knew that I would soon be leaving for overseas fighting, we married on May 8, 1942 at her parents’ home in Soulsbyville. That was the best three-day pass of my Army career!

Attu

When my company received orders at San Luis Obispo, it was for Attu, Alaska. I wondered where Attu was. North Africa, I could figure out, but Attu? Later I discovered that Attu was the westernmost island in the Aleutian chain, about 1,100 miles from the Alaska mainland. We would be fighting on American soil. Our departure port was to be San Francisco. While we were in San Francisco and getting ready to ship out for Attu, Ruth went down to Burlingame to visit her sister. I hitchhiked down there for one last visit with my bride. Then I hitchhiked back up to the City to join my company. They were lined up, picking up their provisions. My buddy, Quinto Spinelli, was in line with my duffel bag, getting his stuff and some for my duffel also. I quickly joined him to receive the rest of my gear. I barely made it back before I would have missed the boat and been AWOL.

My lieutenant asked me where I had been and when I told him the truth, he could understand a young soldier wanting to see his bride before leaving. If I had been in a bar, I would have been in trouble.

We arrived in Attu in May of 1943. When we arrived in Attu we had climate shock. We had come from desert conditions to frozen tundra. Some of the guys lost toes. We had to be totally re-outfitted with cold weather gear: parkas, gloves, and boots.

[The 17^th Infantry was poorly equipped for winter warfare. But they soldiered on and for this action they won a Distinguished Unit Citation.]2

Bob, 1942

I escaped death many times during the war, starting on Attu. We couldn’t see the Japanese due to fog in the mountains. Our troops were inland on a knoll. A bullet whizzed by my ear, while being shelled by enemy mortars. When the shelling stopped, I started looking around me. I saw another soldier sitting up in a trench with his eyes wide open. I thought he was looking at me with his mouth open. Then I discovered that the “mouth” was his slit throat. I marked him for recovery by standing his rifle in the ground with his helmet on it. Then the Japs started shooting at me with machine guns. I dove into a snow bank. They laid a pattern of gunfire around my feet. When they quit shooting, I got the heck out of there.

Another battle was when some of the enemy got drunk and passed through our front lines into our camp. They invaded our mess tent and killed our cooks. One of the cooks was in a foxhole and he managed to kill some Japanese but then the enemy lobbed a hand grenade into his foxhole and the cook was killed. I was out on the side of the mountain and heard the battle. Then I was assigned to a machine gun nest in a gully to guard our camp so no more enemy troops could reach it. My closest buddy, Quinto Spinelli, was shot dead-center through his helmet. He was lucky. The bullet grazed his scalp and went out the back of his helmet. It knocked him out so the Japanese thought he was dead and moved on. This friend was with me all through the war. He was a truck driver from Merced. We kept in contact after the war until his death a few years ago.

There was a U.S. battleship off our beachhead, shooting over our troops at the Japanese, who were inland. I saw two of our biplanes take off from the battleship. The biplanes were used on battleships because they didn’t need as much room for takeoff as bombers,  which required aircraft carriers with longer takeoff strips. One of the planes was hit by enemy gunfire but one of them landed. I went to check on the pilot. A Jap mortar shell whizzed by me and landed two feet in front of me. I got the hell out of there.

[The 7^th Reconnaissance Troop went ashore first and established a beach position at “Red Beach” before the Japanese became aware of the U.S. troop arrival. The principle landings were carried out by elements of the 17^th Infantry under the command of Colonel Edward P. Earle, who was killed in the battle. The fighting was fierce at Chichagof Harbor. There were other battles at Saran Valley-Massacre Valley Pass and Clevesy Pass on Cold Mountain. The Japanese had ensconced themselves in trenches blanketing all of those areas. Our troops had to scale mountains and a cliff to reach the enemy who was firing upon them the whole time.]3  [There were 3,929 U.S. casualties and 580 lives lost before the U.S. gained the victory and flushed out all of the enemy.]4

During my duties of “marking” our casualties I saw an Aleut house that the Japanese had torn up and looted. There was nothing left for the family to return to after their internment in a Japanese concentration camp.

At last Attu was secured. All the Japanese were killed. We took no prisoners. Our stay in Attu was one month.

WWII Weasel

The 17^th Infantry left Attu and stopped off at Kiska, a nearby island in the Aleutians. Our Headquarters Company did not leave the ship. Other soldiers were dropped off on one side of the island while others were dropped off on the opposite side of Kiska. Both detachments proceeded up Kiska’s mountainsides, firing as they went. When they reached the top they realized the responding fire they had heard had been each other’s. Luckily no one was injured or killed by this “friendly” fire. There were no Japanese soldiers left on that island. Apparently they had been put onto a Japanese ship. U.S. bombers sank their ship in open waters as it headed back to Japan.

Hawaii and the Marshall Islands

After the intense battles on Attu, the Army was a little unsure what to do with us. They ended up shipping us to Hawaii for much needed rest and recovery, and to replenish our company to full strength after all the casualties we had incurred in Attu. We landed there in August 1943 and were housed in quarters where Japanese detainees had been kept. It lacked screens on the windows and doors so insects were a problem.

There was a new vehicle called the “Weasel” with which to familiarize myself. There was no training for it, but I became an expert. It was a jeep with one tank in front and one in the rear for flotation in the water. It used caterpillar tracks to move on land. I had to test it and figure out how to repair it if it broke down. During our first stay in Oahu, we took part in a weeklong dry-run amphibious training exercise on Maui.

[The Weasel was a Ford SPA-M29C. It had a Studebaker engine. It could carry a crew of four, had 11-inch ground clearance, could hold 72.35 gallons of gas, had three speeds and carried a communication radio. It had turning radius of 12 feet, could ford a ditch up to four feet wide, climb 24 inches over a vertical obstacle, drove five miles on a gallon of gas, and had a top speed of 36 mph.]5

We returned to Oahu briefly before heading off to our next beachhead. While there, I saw the Scofield barracks where our servicemen were housed when the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor almost two years earlier. It was all pockmarked from the enemy shelling. I saw all the damage enemy mortars had done to the hangars and supplies, and to the port. The first time we were in Hawaii for four to six months.

From Hawaii we were shipped to the Marshall Islands for about a month. I was on Carlson Island near Kwajalein, where intense fighting was underway. [General Corlett wanted Carlson so that artillery could fire from it in support of  the Kwajalein battle.]6

The 17^th Infantry brought four cannons to shoot at the Japanese across the narrow span of water. The soldiers on Kwajalein were having difficulty making any progress in the battle. The enemy had ensconced themselves in covered foxholes behind enemy lines and would pop up and shoot our troops in the back. The cannons were able to shoot over our troops to bomb the catacomb of foxholes. My duty was to guard the shore of Carlson Island and protect our supplies. After a month, we had sufficiently helped the battle on Kwajalein with our cannon fire to secure the island. We were shipped back to Oahu.

Back in Hawaii we again replaced our casualties to bring our company up to full strength. I continued working on the Weasel, refining repair techniques. We were in Hawaii for the second time for another four months. We left Hawaii in July or August of 1944 for our next beachhead, Leyte in the Philippine Islands.

U.S. Soldier, 1944, on Kwajalein, photo courtesy of Bob Rundle

Philippine Islands 

We arrived in the Philippines in October 1944 at Leyte Gulf. To unload the Weasel from the ship to an LCI (Landing Craft for Infantry) a winch had to be used to swing it over onto the LCI. I was transferred to the LCI in my Weasel. The rest of the 17^th Infantry was allowed to go ashore. They were let off in a Filipino cemetery. I was told I had to wait until the next morning to disembark from the LCI with the Weasel. I set a bunch of life vests on the front of the Weasel to a make a bed for myself that night. There was only one Weasel for our company so I was glad to stay with it, as I had a proprietary interest. Early in the morning I left the LCI and also went through the Filipino cemetery, which had been busted up by the Japanese bombings. When I tried to drive the Weasel ashore, the life jackets fell off the front and became entangled with the wheels driving the track. I barely got it ashore and up a small rise when the idler shafts broke.

Our ship had no machine shop, so I had to take the Weasel parts and catch another LCI to a different ship in the gulf that had a machine shop. I had to climb their rope netting packing the parts. We had made a new idler shaft but still needed to make the second one when the Japs opened fire. The ship’s crew did not want to be responsible for me since I was not part of their company, so I had to take my parts and the one newly made shaft, and climb down their nets to yet another LCI.

The LCI scooted around the gulf to avoid taking fire. When the bombing stopped, the LCI took me to another ship that had a machine shop. I had to climb up their net with my one completed shaft and other parts. I was able to finish making the second shaft. To leave, of course meant climbing down the netting again onto another LCI, which took me back to the Filipino cemetery. I hiked back up the knoll to my Weasel and put it back together, then drove to find my company at the front lines. Needless to say, I had a lot of exercise that day.

[A resource called the bombing on Leyte Gulf when the 17^th Infantry landed, “moderate resistance.” The goal of the Philippine campaign was to capture airstrips that the enemy was using for the fighter planes to bomb the US fleet. The landing in the Filipino cemetery was just south of the town of Dulag. After the Dulag airstrip was secured, the 7th Division headed for the San Pablo airstrip heading north along the Dulag-Burauen Road. It took two days to capture that airstrip, Burauen and Bayug. When we encountered the Buri airstrip, there was intense fighting. A different division was finally able to secure Buri.]7

We came to a big river, 100 feet wide and waist deep. There were more Weasels by that time. A Weasel belonging to a reconnaissance squad had tried to cross the river. The track came off and their Weasel became stuck in the mud. They tied a rope around my waist and I had to drag a cable out into the middle of the river and attach it to the mired vehicle, then wade back to shore. Using a winch we pulled it back onto shore, then tipped it onto its side with a specialized winch – a black spool knob winch – so I could work on it. I put the track back onto the wheels with the sprockets so that the track could be driven again. Once my repair job was complete, we set it upright and the recon unit proceeded another direction.

[The 7^th Division headed for the town of Dagami and divided into its respective companies. The Headquarters Company was to follow Company E with the heavy weapons. After heavy fighting and casualties they headed for Shoestring Ridge.]8

Our company came across another reconnaissance squad whose Weasel had been driven up the side of a mountain and thrown its track. With winch in hand, I had to drive my Weasel up above them to their Weasel. The squad and I saw enemy aircraft swoop down to the valley below to bomb our troops, and we took cover. Chasing the enemy aircraft was a P-38 (a U.S. fighter with two engines and fuselages). The Japanese aircraft was hit, but the P-38 made it back out of the valley. One of the fuselages was on fire. The pilot was able to fly it to the ocean where he ditched the plane, parachuting to safety on land. With the battle over, I finished repairing the Weasel and returned to camp.

When we were driving on another elevated road toward Shoestring Ridge, Spinelli and I stopped for lunch. I left my ammo belt on the back of my Weasel. We took our lunches under a nipa hut (a Filipino home raised on stilts to avoid flooding from typhoons). The enemy began firing at us under the house. My buddy was shot in the butt, but I avoided being hit. He had me look at his injury to see if he needed to go see a medic. He had many little red marks. It looked like he had been hit by buckshot. He went off to see the medic while I climbed out to inspect my Weasel. The hand grenade in my ammo belt had been hit and had burned itself out. If I had been in the Weasel at the time, I would have been hit in the head (the driver’s head stuck up above the body of the Weasel). Leyte was “secured” by Christmas of 1944, but the 7^th Division continued on mop-up battles, flushing out Japanese. We were in the Philippines about four months.

When we were leaving Leyte there were no docks or LCIs, so we drove the jeeps and trucks through the water to reach the crane on the ship to be boarded. We had a hose stuck in the exhaust that went out of the water into the air and another hose leading from the carburetor up to the air. Everything went more or less smoothly until we managed to get the Jeeps into the hold of the main ship. They would not start. We continued working on them in the hold of the ship to prepare them for service in Okinawa. Our sergeant, Kenneth Gay, became quite ill and passed out from all the exhaust fumes. We had to take him up on deck to revive him. We learned from this experience. Using hoses did not make the vehicles amphibious, because the hoses could not help the starters. And that engine repair should not be done in an enclosed space for prolonged periods. We darn near lost Sgt. Gay.

Okinawa

We were shipped out and arrived midway north from the southern tip of Okinawa on its  western coast in April of 1945. Again our assignment was to secure airstrips and a railroad track which ran the length of Okinawa. [The 7^th Division moved three miles inland, quickly taking the Kadena airfield. Japanese resistance was light at dusk that first evening. The 7th Division cut across the remainder of the 14-mile midsection of Okinawa, cutting it in half. This effectively blocked the Japanese supply of arms from North to South. The 7th Division turned south to take the Pinnacle, which had a Japanese watchtower.]9

En route south we reached a schoolhouse, which we figured could be used for our housing. About two city blocks through the brush, we saw a Weasel that had apparently been commandeered by the Japanese and then abandoned. I went to look at it but was warned that it could have been booby-trapped. I didn’t see any obvious traps so I climbed in and tried to start it. It would not start. Upon inspection, I discovered that it had just run out of gas. I added gas and put it back into service. There was a trench under the school where we would hide to guard the school. Some jackass soldier up in the school threw a tin can out the window and it clanged against the rocks in the road. It scared those of us on guard duty.

[As the campaign progressed, the unit pushed ahead to take Tomb Hill and the town of Ouki and headed inland towards Kochi Ridge along the rail tracks.]10

Proceeding onward to reach our goal of taking the ridge, we discovered an old train depot. One hundred feet uphill from the depot we saw an enclosure in which to make camp. It must have been a nice house at one time. The house had been bombed out but the tiled roof porches were still standing. Around the house was an adobe-like, four-foot-high wall. That night while we were sleeping, the enemy began firing cannons over the enclosure into the road. We heard one round coming in short. It hit the top of the tiled roof. Shrapnel hit me in the right arm and lodged in my back. Other shrapnel hit and killed Sergeant Gay, who was sleeping behind me.

A soldier on guard duty had his half-track parked near the depot. The rear door of the vehicle was opened and he was lying on a bench in it. He was hit in the leg.

Walking Wounded  

A buddy, Lowman, grabbed me and dragged me up to the depot so my wound could be dressed. There was a powder that we all carried that helped stop bleeding. Powder was poured into my wound and dressing was wrapped around my arm. A Jeep came along to pick up the wounded and we were driven to a field hospital half a mile away. The driver had to navigate around all the unexploded shells on the road. At the field hospital there were medical personnel (like the MASH unit in Korea, later featured in the TV program). By the time I arrived I was so dizzy that a medic slammed me into a chair and jammed my head between my legs. I was left sitting there for awhile until a truck took all of us injured soldiers down to an airport. The air-evac plane had its hull filled with cots, three bunks high. The bunks filled the cargo space. I was ambulatory so I could walk aboard and didn’t have to carried in on a litter. I left Okinawa after only three to four weeks in April of 1945.

P-38 Lightning, U.S. Air Force photo

The airplane flew us to Guam, where there was a larger hospital. I had surgery on my arm there. My wound was so wide that the surgeon said he could only sew it up halfway.  When I had recovered sufficiently, I was assigned KP duty. I rode along in a garbage truck to the edge of a cliff. We had to push the garbage off the cliff into the ocean. Looking over the cliff into the ocean scared me a little.

I was sent to Saipan in the Mariana Islands to recover. There was an outdoor theater, which I enjoyed when I was feeling better. While watching a movie one time, the movie stopped and the lights came on, followed by an announcement: The war was over. We cheered and then wept for all those who did not live to see the end of the war. I was in Saipan for three months, May through July of 1945.

Going Home

We were put into a “Liberty Ship,” and felt every wave that crashed against the hull as we bounced along across the ocean. One night the cook thought it would be a special treat to roast a goat for dinner. When we reported to the mess, it smelled awful. Some of the guys had to run up to the deck and vomit. I don’t think any of us ate it. We pulled into Oahu for fueling and left for San Francisco. We traveled in that tin can for a month.

Once in San Francisco, we went to an amphitheater. On stage, there were cooks and lots of food. We could have anything we wanted. I had a steak and milk. From San Francisco, we took a train to Sacramento to a really big hospital for a thorough physical. We could have anything treated that we wanted or needed. I told them I was fine. All I wanted to do was to go home. As soon as I received my discharge papers and $10, I hitchhiked out of there. Many drivers were willing to pick up hitchhiking soldiers in uniform to help them along. When I arrived in Stockton, Ruth was waiting for me there.

Post-War Recovery

When we arrived back in Soulsbyville, I went to work at Opera Hall Garage on Washington Street in Sonora. I noticed my right arm went numb. I was sent to a Navy hospital, Oak Knoll, in the Oakland hills. I lay on the examination table and the doctors began poking at my wound. It blew up and something hit the lights hanging from the ceiling. All kinds of infection poured out. After treatment, when I was released to go home, my arm felt much better so I returned to work.

One day five or six months later, while I was lying on a dolly under a car, I felt a lump in my back that bothered me. I went to my local doctor. He dug out the remaining shrapnel from my wartime injury.

Civilian Life

I worked at the Opera Hall Garage for 30 years. Then it was sold to a new owner, who hired a different shop foreman. I was invited to stay as a line mechanic, but I couldn’t do line work anymore because arthritis had started settling into my arm and shoulder from the war wounds. I went to Debco Auto Parts store for about six months. There was a recession at that time so I was laid off. I took unemployment benefits until my Social Security Disability started. In December 1982, I officially retired.

Robert Rundle: Honors earned

Ruth and I have three sons. Gary was born in April 1947, Jerald in February 1949, and Loren in January 1953. We have had a very full life, in our marriage of 69 years.

Since retirement, Ruth and I have enjoyed travelling. We even flew to Hawaii to see four different islands. I showed Ruth where my old housing was and the Scofield barracks. I’ve also done a lot of fishing in retirement. We quit traveling about 10 years ago because my mobility had declined. I’ve had several knee replacements but still rely on my motorized scooter to get around the house and outside.

We have gone to quite a few Attu reunions. They were held in places like Reno, Tahoe, Las Vegas, at our home (where Ruth served Cornish pasties) and the Spinelli’s house in Merced. I saw Lowman, Spinelli, Maurice Lebow, and Van Hoy at these reunions and of course Spinelli and I visited in each others’ homes. We all called each other by our last names, so some of their first names I do not remember.

There are no more Attu reunions. In fact, I may be the only one still alive.

Reflections

I was glad that Ruth and I could write each other during the war to stay in touch. Ruth later told me that some of the content in my letters had been cut out. At least she knew that I had written.

The food during the war varied. On Attu we had old “C-rations” that we swore were left over from WWI. When we reached Hawaii there were “K-rations,” which were a step up.  Rations were delivered in a large box for the cooks to prepare. We had an entire roast that came in a large can. Other fruits and vegetables were in smaller cans. The boxes were dropped wherever we were, even behind battle lines. There were cigarettes packed in the boxes too. The only time I smoked was while I was in the military. Most of the guys who had smoked before they went into the Army, quickly snapped up the more popular brands of cigarettes—Lucky Strike, Winstons, etc. I always took the cheaper brands because it didn’t make any difference to me. I mostly smoked Chelsey cigarettes or my pipe.

We were able to have some fresh food in Hawaii. We went to a pineapple plant and got glasses of juice from a wall spigot. Whenever we went into Honolulu, we went to a restaurant. I ordered what I wanted most, which was buttered toast. There was certainly no bread or butter on Attu. Even now I weep when I realize that such a simple, ordinary thing as buttered toast was considered a luxury back then and brought me such pleasure. We never did run out of food during the war.

Bob and Ruth's wedding, 1942

I never kept a good luck charm during the war. I did have a picture of Ruth that I kept with me at all times. I guess she was all the motivation I needed. I never thought about dying and even though I had five near misses with death, I just always expected to be able to return home. Oh sure, I was scared a few times but that was only when I narrowly missed death.

There were some fun points during the war. Between beachhead battles, we had a little time for leisure and entertainment. In the evenings, we played cards, drank beer, smoked and swapped stories, especially in Oahu. Just before leaving Leyte, we were allowed to go to an island where there was a quonset hut filled with beer. We called it “beer island.” We were each allowed 15 beers. I could not drink that much so I gave some of my beer to the guys. When we all piled onto the ship to go back to our camp on the main island of Leyte, I fell down a flight of steps aboard ship. Imagine what would have happened to me if I had drunk all the beer that I was allowed!

On Guam, after I had recovered somewhat, a buddy and I went for a swim in one of the coves. On Saipan I bummed a ride in a cargo plane for sightseeing. The pilot banked the plane steeply, while my buddies and I clung to the upward side of the plane. I didn’t ask to go on any more sightseeing trips. We saw a few entertainers. I remember seeing Bob Hope in a USO show in Hawaii and then Ray Bolger performing for the troops in a secured war zone.

The last time I saw my Weasel was on Okinawa. I had to leave everything behind because of enemy fire. I even had to leave my boots, which were off because I was sleeping in my bedroll when the attack began. I wouldn’t want to own a Weasel, because the gas mileage is so poor, but I’d like to see one again just to play with it.

Overall, I think my personality has not changed from before the war. I am still the same man I always was.

My war experience can be summed up quickly by saying that I never had to fire a shot and I never met a Jap face-to-face. But I do realize when reminded that U.S. troops, supplies, and ammunition would never have arrived where they were needed if I had not kept all the wheels turning for the Army.

I do feel that war is necessary sometimes, but I think it should not be prolonged. We should go in, get the enemy, and then get out. If a war lingers on, I think it demonstrates a lack of determination to win.

Mr. Robert Rundle

The ideal would be to have no need for war, but that’s never going to happen.

Mr. Rundle, 92, was interviewed in 2011 by volunteer Mary Louis through the Tuolumne Veterans History Project, an all-volunteer effort to record Tuolumne County veterans’ memories of their wartime experiences. 

 

Resources

1     Wikipedia, WWII Draft Initiation.

2,3   “History of the 7^th Infantry Division” on the following website:

www.carson.army.mil/UNITS/F7ID_Historylong.htm

4     Wikipedia, WWII Attu US battle casualties

5     “M29 Weasel” on the wikipedia.org website

6-10 “History of the 7^th Infantry Division” above cited website for 1,2

 

Additional Helpful Sources

“Return to the Philippines,” by Steinberg, Rafael, Time-Life Books 1979

Information on the fighter plane, “Lockheed P38,” from the dreamstime.com/stock-

photos-vintage

“U.S. At War,” Headline Histories from the Los Angeles Examiner, December 8, 1941

through May 7, 1945.