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Preface
by Al Kincer
In reading this
account of the “Life of the Forty Eight” please be aware that this
is only a part of my autobiography. I wrote it solely for the
edification of my Children. There are several remarks that are
directed at them. From 1958 to 1962 I was stationed in Rome with the
American Embassy. We traveled extensively through Europe; they were
made aware of many of the places mentioned. The time of my life from
March 1919 to April 1942 has been omitted.
I left the 111 Engineers in April for
OCS. When I was commissioned I was assigned to the 48th. Engineer
Regiment in Camp Gruber Oklahoma. I arrived there in late June. A
cadre of officers and NCOs had already arrived. We were expecting
"fillers" at any time but it was late fall before we got "our men".
They were from almost every state; a large number of them came from
the area around Peoria Illinois. They were really a fine bunch of
men, eager to learn, in good physical condition, smart, and
inventive. Just the kind we needed for combat engineers. I some
times wondered if the Officers could measure up to the men. We had
an equal number from the south, from Texas, the area around Brooklyn
supplied us with an outstanding group. I should not mention certain
geographical areas for they came from most every state in the Union.
We became a family; "WE THE FORTY EIGHT" was adopted as our motto.
We knew we would be the best; we had the best men and the best
Commander, Lt. Col. Andrew J. Goodpaster.
We trained all over
the hills, along the river; we trained in river crossing with
floating baileys and pontoon bridging. There was ice on the river
but we endured the weather knowing that it would probably be much
worse where we were going. In June 1943 we got the word, and in a
few weeks we found ourselves in Massachusetts bound for Europe, at
least that was the most prevalent rumor. The convoy we were with was
huge; one of our escort ships was the mighty Texas, just fresh back
from the Pacific. Two weeks later we sailed through the Straits of
Gibraltar. We knew that we were going to Africa, if we did not sail
through the Suez Canal for the Pacific. We landed at Oran, Algeria,
about the 1st of August 1943. We trained in the heat and the dust
for the next month. A great side trip during that time was a trip to
Sidi Bel Abbis, home of the French Foreign Legion. It was what I had
expected we were not disappointed even though it was a three-hour
trip back to camp over some mighty rough roads. M/Sgt Blankenship,
my keeper and the Battalion motor sergeant, drove to our destination
but I drove back. We were all bored by his 20-mile per hour rate. He
was a devoted friend and confidant. He guided me through my early
days as a second lieutenant. I owe much to him, a story about him
later. We landed in Italy on the seventh of October 1943. Our
entrance into the war was our landing at Pozulli, just North of
Naples. You all have been there it is where we saw the small active
Volcano north of Naples. We met no opposition and spent the night in
an abandoned schoolhouse. All was well except that the local
teenagers sold apples and not quiet ripe walnuts to us. Most of us
spent the night over the slit trench retching from our purchases.
Several air raids that night introduced us to the shooting war. None
of the bombs hit our area.
We stayed in Naples
a couple of days, long enough to see the infamous demolition of the
Bank of Naples. The Jerries left a huge time bomb in the bank. It
exploded around noon one day killing many innocent civilians. Our
next move was to Casserta, a small town about thirty miles north of
Naples. The King of Italy had a palace there. It became a R. & R.
building for G.I.'s on leave. The Theater was small but beautiful; I
saw a couple of good U.S.O. shows there. The first night there we
were treated again to another air raid on Naples. The pyrotechnics
were beautiful, especially now that we were miles away. We were
really not a part of the war yet, just moving up to the front a
little each day.
My big break came a
few days later when I was assigned to Co. B. I had hoped for a long
time to be a platoon commander in one of the line companies. Captain
Mardin assigned me to the first platoon; S/Sgt Dewey Castelloe was
my platoon Sgt. He was the best in the battalion. John Mailey, Tommy
Googoo, Jim Iden, and Florian Schreiner were the squad sergeants.
What a line up, men like Maki, Josie, Sjostrom, Bonnano, Yeager, Bob
Cole, Cpl Charles Hanus and thirty more of the best men a commander
could hope for. Other life long friends came from Co. B. Will Tully,
a rare find among all my lifetime friends. He rates with the top
five of all time. Fritz, McDaniel, Reeves were top soldiers and
friends for life. Rex Bass was my jeep driver; we became very close,
for we were side by side for the remainder of the war. When I became
the company commander he stayed on as my driver. When Rex was not
around Tony Nigro of Brooklyn substituted for him. We were now in
the war, we began by repairing roads, building bridges and bypasses
and removing mines. We had our first casualties, Cpl Red Campbell,
Co A, lost a leg to a mine and died from his wounds. T/5 Warren
Metcalf of Co. B also lost a leg but lived through the ordeal. Cpl.
Ed Seibolt lost a foot. The first platoon of Co. B got its first
taste of shellfire in November 1943. We were putting in a by-pass
along a road near Vinafro; suddenly artillery started bursting near
by. Thank goodness their aim was bad, the shells were bursting a
couple of hundred yards away. We got a big laugh at their
marksmanship, but soon learned it could be deadly, as we soon
started to have casualties. We knew that death was just over the
next hill, or at the next bridge to be built.
In December we moved
into the Mignano Sector. It was a small town located at a cross road
with a railroad running through it. An ideal artillery target as the
coordinates was easy to read. We lost several men from Jerry
artillery fire in the bivouac area. T/4 Kantz and Tisovich were
killed while replacing the wheel bearings of a truck. They died as
they sat at their work. They were the instigators of the “Just
Married” sign that hangs in our bedroom. We were delighted when the
word came down to move. The move did not come about however until we
had completed our work on Highway 48 and an infantry assault on Mt.
Portia.
Perhaps our biggest
accomplishment in the Cassino area was completion of Highway 48.
Additional roads were needed leading in to Cassino. We were assigned
the task of converting the railroad running into Cassino into a
passable road. The entire area was under direct observation by the
Jerries. We built five bailey bridges and twelve bypasses. The
entire six miles was completed in just a few days. A lot of purple
hearts were passed out, a few of them posthumously. The road
provided a much-needed access to our main objective—Cassino—the
focal point of THE Gustav line.
We took the mountain
in early January. We relieved the 6th Armored Infantry Battalion of
the 1st Armored Division. They had been decimated after weeks of
combat. We took the mountain. Sgt. Joe Specker was killed in the
assault and was awarded the Medal of Honor. I think it was the only
one awarded to an Engineer during the war. A flight of ME 109’s
bombed the CP of L/Col. Goodpaster our commander and L/Col.
Ringsock, commander of the 6th, wounding both of them. The loss of
Col. Goodpaster was a great loss to us, for he never came back. When
he retired in the seventies he was a four star General.
Sgt. Schreiner, a
long lanky German-speaking lad from Wisconsin was my choice for a
patrol on a cold January night. He gathered his squad, checked their
rifles, issued hand grenades and gave strict orders that there would
be no talking unless he or I addressed them. I gave them a briefing
on the mission, that it was an intelligence probe and that we would
not fire unless forced to do so. It was bitter cold, every man wore
his long overcoat with muffler, we looked like a squad of Jerries,
and too soon we found out that a remarkable resemblance existed
between our group and a long line of Jerries that we encountered. I
am not sure as to whether the men were really following my orders or
were frozen with fright. In any event we let them go on their way
and after going forward a few more hundred yards we established the
location of their lines and returned to Col. Goodpaster’s CP. That
was our first patrol of the war and not the last but the scariest.
We witnessed the
first shelling of The Abby, in January 1944. Built in the Middle
Ages it over looked the entire Lire Valley. Jerry could watch every
move we made. It remained a pain in the old “seater” until the Air
Corps leveled it on the 15th of March. My sergeants and I
watched from a natural grandstand seat high on a mountain just
across the valley. Hundreds of bombers leveled the Abby. Now it
became an even more haven for the Jerries. They used the pile of
rubble as an ideal observation point. The attacks by the Allies at
that time failed to penetrate the rubble of Cassino. The mountain
was not taken until mid May by a brigade of Polish infantry. The
first platoon of Co. B, my platoon entered Cassino that night with
the Maori, New Zeeland infantry. The effort failed to penetrate the
Jerry defenses. I was relieved the next day, about noon we slipped
away and returned to company headquarters. The Maori’s did not make
a maximum effort. Perhaps their Officers thought they were too few
to do the job. I heard that an investigation took place. No one
asked me!
The next night we
were back at work on the baileys that were being built across the
Rapido. Company A had the prime responsibility for the bridges and
Company B built the approaches. We dumped at least a hundred loads
of road fill while Jerry Artillery fire fell around us. Sgt.
Schreiner along with about a dozen others were wounded in the three
nights we worked there. I was slightly wounded, a little iodine and
penicillin and I stayed on the job.
On about the 20th
of March we were relieved by the 235th. We moved south of
Naples. We were out of the war!! Now we learn that another big push
to Rome will start soon. We had a new battalion commander, Lt/Col
Dean Swift. There was a big shakeup in the works. We heard that a
cadre of Officers and NCOs would be returning to the states. Instead
of being selected to go home I was selected to become C.O. of
Company B. I think I was pleased with the decision. I was not ready
to be out of the war. I have always believed the honor went to those
that stayed.
We had pulled back
to an area south of Naples where instead of resting we trained,
trained, trained. We were thankful that we were not under shellfire
twenty-four hours a day. We enjoyed being near Naples; we were
generous with daily passes for the men and really enjoyed our
hiatus from the war. On my birthday we decided to go into the Orange
Club in Naples to celebrate my twenty fifth birthday. Lts. Max
Jonah, Frances Buckley and I departed for a night of revelry. We had
a great time; of course Buckley drank too much and engaged a South
African Lt. In a bit of fisticuffs as we were leaving. In the chaos
that ensued Max left my Jeep to help and while he was gone some one
stole my Jeep. We hooked a ride back to camp. The next day I
reported it to Col. Swift. He was understanding but stated that we
would probably have to pay for it if it was not returned. We scoured
the city for two weeks but without results. Lt Carl Phalen came in
one day and said that he had found my jeep. I told him to load up
and take me to it for I was going to whip the --- of the fellow that
had it. He cautioned me but I insisted. Finally he said with a big
grin that the MP Captain had it and that his name was Joe Savoldi,
halfback from Notre Dame and the current World Wrestling Champ.
Reluctantly I agreed that it might be best if he made the recovery.
We spent the month of April 1944 training and moved our bivouac up
the Adriatic cost to a point near the Gustav Line. We were ready to
start the drive for Rome.
On the tenth of May
we moved north. After a huge artillery barrage WE moved onto the
narrow roads that by that time were congested with hundreds of
vehicles all going in the same direction and every commander sure
that he had hit his IP at the proper time. As WE advanced we built
bypasses, removed mines, cleared debris. WE moved north along the
beach roads and outside of occasional shelling we spent the next
week doing everyday engineer tasks.
The Spigno Trail was
an assignment to build a jeep road up a mountain several thousand
feet high. It was built at a very steep slope and consisted of many,
many hairpin turns that were difficult for even a jeep to negotiate.
After working night and day for several days the project was halted
for the Infantry had broken through and WE were free to travel the
existing roads. The French Goumers were on the attack in that area.
They were fierce fighters and believed in the spoils of war. One
night an Italian family came by and told us that the Algerians had
raped all of the women in the family.
I was assigned to
support the 6th Calvary Squadron. Things had developed to
the point that we were about to break out into the Ponteen marshes.
On the morning of the 24th of May Capt Mark Reardon and I
were contemplating how we could get around a part of the road that
jutted out into the sea. We had nothing but a few infantry patrols
on the other side so I knew Jerry anti-tank guns were probably
zeroed in on that point. Mark, I still don’t know why he was there,
and I decided to chance it. Sure enough just as we rounded the bend
an artillery shell burst just in front of us. Mark was hit and I was
dirtied again. We got him back and I waited another hour and tried
again. I hopped aboard a light tank along with an infantry
lieutenant that needed to make the reconnaissance too. We rounded
the corner so fast that we beat them to the punch. The tank
proceeded to the east of Terriciana along the roar that ran parallel
to the hills to our right. It was apparent that the Jerries had
pulled their main forces out but we knew that we were looking at the
covering forces to guard the retreat. We traveled about two more
miles and came to a blown bridge. Just as I left the tank a shell
explode on the other side of the tank. The infantryman was just
behind me as I made a wild dash for the safety of the canal. I lost
my helmet, a lot of pride but no skin. I decided not to go back for
the helmet. We raced back down the canal and got back on the tank as
it whirled past us. Later that day I moved my company around the
corner into the town of Terriciana. You guys saw that corner many
times as we traveled from Rome to Naples. We made camp that night
with a heavy guard for I knew there was nothing between Anzio and
us. Next morning bright and early we were all set to go but to my
surprise the Calvary captain declined to lead the way. I moved my
company slowly up the road and soon came to a blown bridge. I
assigned the lead platoon to the task, gave orders for the next
platoon to follow as soon as they could get across. My jeep was
lifted across the creek and along with Rex Bass, my jeep driver; Lt
Buckley and Pancho Savalla we rolled carefully down the road.
Another blown bridge was encountered. I sent Rex back for the next
platoon. Buckley and Pancho went across the creek to a farmhouse
looking for eggs. They met Captain Ben Souza of the 36 Engineers
thus the meeting of the Anzio Forces and the Fifth Army took place.
It was 0730 at that time; we waited until 1030 for General Clark to
arrive so that movies could be made. You have all seen those shots.
The next few days were filled with just everyday engineer work as we
made our way toward Rome. The day after the meeting two Friars
stopped me and asked that I go with them. In the basement of their
monastery were the bodies of twelve American Soldiers. They had
covered the bodies with lime thinking that it would preserve them. I
called grave registration to pick them up.
We entered Rome on
the 4th of June; 1944 amid cheers, kisses and a shower of
flowers. We were bivouacked in a schoolyard that was surrounded by a
tile fence. My C.P. was in a down stairs room. A balcony jutted out
over the schoolyard from an upstairs room. The men were gathered
below and were waiting with baited breath for a speech from their
beloved leader. I told them of the beautiful women of Rome, how good
they smelled and what nice clothes they wore but that the risk of
disease was there just as with the urchins of Naples. I reiterated
that anyone that got VD would be broken to private. When I returned
to my CP there were two of my favorite Sergeants standing before the
First Sergeant. Both had been impregnated on our drive to Rome. I
did not think we had time for such things. I called Dr. Snider and
asked if he would take care of them through unofficial channels. He
said that he would, I never made that speech again. There was a big
parade down THE Corso the next day then we moved on through Rome in
our chase of the Jerries who had suffered terrible losses in their
horse drawn wagons just north of Rome. We were pulled back and
garrisoned Rome for about a week. Our next move was back to an area
just north of Naples. We were to prepare for the invasion of
Southern France. We were issued several DUKS, a landing craft that
looked like a truck crossed with a boat. We had lots of fun when
we found that we could water ski behind them. The training period
proved to be a disaster, for Lt. Robert O’Leary was killed when a
rifle grenade discharged at the muzzle of his carbine. I was only
twenty feet away, on the other side of the dune. Co. B was assigned
to be the company that assisted a Naval detachment labeled as “The
Shore Company” This meant we would be the first troops to hit the
beaches. WE enjoyed a life of leisure and training for about a
month. WE were bivouacked near Naples. WE had pyramidal tents with
electric lights to live in. WE were set on go for the Southern
France invasion. |
