70 Pleasant St. Cohasset, MA.
02025 ,781 383 0215 * Mail Call : Ben Barrett Ben517@aol.com
Hello,
Please let me know if you want
to receive Mail Calls or if you have a problem receiving them. You can
always read back Mail Calls by clicking on www.517prct.org/archives
Please try to send in donations to Keep the 517 PRCT Association viable.
Suggested amount $30.00 to include Thunderbolt. Auxiliary members $20.00 Plus
$10.00 if you want to receive the Thunderbolt. Send donations to Leo Dean, 14
Stonehenge Lane, Albany, NY 12203. Make checks payable to 517prct. Donations
for the Auxiliary should be sent to Karen Frice Wallace 66295 Highway 20
Bend, OR 97701
Ben
Website
www.517prct.org
Mail Call Ben517@aol.com
Mail Call Archives www.517prct.org/archives
Roster
www.517prct.org/roster.pdf
| 517th PRCT Auxiliary Mission Statement |
| 517th PRCT Auxiliary Member Application 2007-2008 |
| 517th PRCT Auxiliary Officers and Committee Members 2007-2009 |
517th Annual Florida Mini-Reunion January 17,18,19, 20, 2009
Banquet on the 20th (Tuesday) and Departing on the 21st (Wednesday)
Hosted by: Leila Webb and Donna Hilliard
Location: Ramada Hotel & Inn Gateway
7470 Highway 192 West
Kissimmee, Florida 34747
Tele: 1(800)327-9170 FAX 1(407)396-4320
web site: www.ramadagateway.com
Contact: Leila Webb
4155 Kissimmee Park Road
St. Cloud, Florida 34772
Tele:(407)892-3595
Lory Curtis
Ben,
Friday, August 15, 2008, was a very peaceful and enjoyable day for
me. Not once did I have to think about an enemy trying to take over my
country or doing any harm to anyone here in America. I know the reason
I had such a great day was because of the men of the 517th PRCT, and
what you had to do on the very early morning on August 15, 1944. Thank
you all for what you have done for me, my family, and America. We will
never forget your sacrifice.
Below is what my Dad wrote to his mother about the combat jump, 64
years ago.
Letter to Mom from Harland L. Curtis, HQ, 1st BN
Combat Jump into Southern France
August 15, 1944 as recorded by Bud on August 22, 1944
Dear Mom,
We boarded C-47’s (the twin engine plane that was used by
paratroopers) in Italy (Chiteviccia) about 2:30 am and had a nice
pleasant ride with no opposition at all. Most of us were asleep until
almost time to jump. They woke us up and said we would be over the
field in eight minutes. That was about 5:00 am. We stood up and hooked
up. It seemed like years went by as those last minutes ticked off. I
was number 13 man. The green light came on and guys began to disappear
in front of me. Then there I was at the door. I had a hell of a body
position. I went out of the door like I was throwing a flying block
with my right shoulder at somebody. I was heading down nose first when
“Wham” she opened and jerked me back up right. I looked up to make
sure my chute was open and then I looked around. We must have jumped
awfully high because I thought I was never going to come down. There
was a low fog about a 100 feet off the ground and it looked just like
water. I really thought my number was up for sure. I was cussing the
Air Corps and all there ancestors for 17 generations back.
When I sank through the mist I was just beginning to figure it
all out when “Thud” I hit the ground. I will never forget that
morning. I was miles away from the jump field. Later I found out that
it was a good thing I didn’t land on the jump field as the Germans had
it all ready for us with mines, machine guns, and flame throwers. All I
could see was forms of trees through the fog. I cut myself out of my
chute and when I stood up I seemed to have lost my sense of balance. I
fell down and rolled down the side of a mountain a few yards. I stood
up again, and did the same thing again. I stood up again and took a
couple of steps and fell off a ledge about 10 feet high and about broke
my neck. There was dry grass all over and every step I took you could
hear it for a mile. I decided to lay still for a while and see if I
could figure out where I was at. I didn’t know which way to go. I
heard somebody moving a little ways in front of me. I shouted the
password at him hoping it was one of our guys, but instead of getting
the right answer I got a couple of bullets just over my head. I took
off for a big rock and figured I would have it out with the guy, but
then I heard somebody behind me. Once again I made the mistake of
hoping it was one of our guys and shouted the password to him and got my
answer in hot lead. It was so foggy we couldn’t see each other but we
could hear every move each of us made.
There must have been a whale of a patrol around me and every
step I took away from them I could hear them coming closer. I knew as
long as it stayed foggy I could hold them off, but it began to get light
and I decided the best thing to do was make a run for it and hope they
would miss. I took off zig zagging and they opened up on me, but I was
lucky and got to the other side of the hill and down in the valley and
there I met some of our own guys.
We climbed over another hill and came to a road and met up with
most of the company. Ever since then I haven’t had much trouble. In
fact the Germans are running to fast. I haven’t seen one for days.
End of the letter
In Bud’s letter dated August 22, 1944 he described that he was the
thirteenth man in the stick in the combat jump. Many men may have
thought being the thirteenth man to make a combat jump to be unlucky,
but not Bud. He was born on the 13th of December, and later after the
war was married on the 13th of June. Thirteen had always been his lucky
number.
Lory V. Curtis, son of Bud Curtis, HQ, 1st BN
Friday, August 15, 2008, was a very peaceful and enjoyable day for
me. Not once did I have to think about an enemy trying to take over my
country or doing any harm to anyone here in America. I know the reason
I had such a great day was because of the men of the 517th PRCT, and
what you had to do on the very early morning on August 15, 1944. Thank
you all for what you have done for me, my family, and America. We will
never forget your sacrifice.
Below is what my Dad wrote to his mother about the combat jump, 64
years ago.
Letter to Mom from Harland L. Curtis, HQ, 1st BN
Combat Jump into Southern France
August 15, 1944 as recorded by Bud on August 22, 1944
Dear Mom,
We boarded C-47’s (the twin engine plane that was used by
paratroopers) in Italy (Chiteviccia) about 2:30 am and had a nice
pleasant ride with no opposition at all. Most of us were asleep until
almost time to jump. They woke us up and said we would be over the
field in eight minutes. That was about 5:00 am. We stood up and hooked
up. It seemed like years went by as those last minutes ticked off. I
was number 13 man. The green light came on and guys began to disappear
in front of me. Then there I was at the door. I had a hell of a body
position. I went out of the door like I was throwing a flying block
with my right shoulder at somebody. I was heading down nose first when
“Wham” she opened and jerked me back up right. I looked up to make
sure my chute was open and then I looked around. We must have jumped
awfully high because I thought I was never going to come down. There
was a low fog about a 100 feet off the ground and it looked just like
water. I really thought my number was up for sure. I was cussing the
Air Corps and all there ancestors for 17 generations back.
When I sank through the mist I was just beginning to figure it
all out when “Thud” I hit the ground. I will never forget that
morning. I was miles away from the jump field. Later I found out that
it was a good thing I didn’t land on the jump field as the Germans had
it all ready for us with mines, machine guns, and flame throwers. All I
could see was forms of trees through the fog. I cut myself out of my
chute and when I stood up I seemed to have lost my sense of balance. I
fell down and rolled down the side of a mountain a few yards. I stood
up again, and did the same thing again. I stood up again and took a
couple of steps and fell off a ledge about 10 feet high and about broke
my neck. There was dry grass all over and every step I took you could
hear it for a mile. I decided to lay still for a while and see if I
could figure out where I was at. I didn’t know which way to go. I
heard somebody moving a little ways in front of me. I shouted the
password at him hoping it was one of our guys, but instead of getting
the right answer I got a couple of bullets just over my head. I took
off for a big rock and figured I would have it out with the guy, but
then I heard somebody behind me. Once again I made the mistake of
hoping it was one of our guys and shouted the password to him and got my
answer in hot lead. It was so foggy we couldn’t see each other but we
could hear every move each of us made.
There must have been a whale of a patrol around me and every
step I took away from them I could hear them coming closer. I knew as
long as it stayed foggy I could hold them off, but it began to get light
and I decided the best thing to do was make a run for it and hope they
would miss. I took off zig zagging and they opened up on me, but I was
lucky and got to the other side of the hill and down in the valley and
there I met some of our own guys.
We climbed over another hill and came to a road and met up with
most of the company. Ever since then I haven’t had much trouble. In
fact the Germans are running to fast. I haven’t seen one for days.
End of the letter
In Bud’s letter dated August 22, 1944 he described that he was the
thirteenth man in the stick in the combat jump. Many men may have
thought being the thirteenth man to make a combat jump to be unlucky,
but not Bud. He was born on the 13th of December, and later after the
war was married on the 13th of June. Thirteen had always been his lucky
number.
Lory V. Curtis, son of Bud Curtis, HQ, 1st BN
Herb Reichwald
Dear Ben: Just thought we would let you know that we
are getting all the e-mails just fine, thank you. We appreciate all the
work you do and glad to get all of the mail. Regarding the dues for the
Thunderbolt, will send ASAP. Herb Reichwald, 596 Eng.
