Subj: MAIL CALL NO 372 517TH PRCT
Date: 10/10/2002 9:34:42 PM Eastern Daylight Time
From: Ben517
BCC:
Hello,
Website--prct517.home.attbi.com or
members.aol.com/prct517/
Mail
Call---Ben517@aol.com
_______________________________________________________
Subj: Frascati
Date:
10/9/2002 2:05:52 PM Eastern Daylight Time
From: jem@n2hos.com
Hi Ben
Howard
Hensleigh has it right on two counts. Frasicati wine does not
travel! And
there was no inbound artillery there.
But, I should add that there were
some very, very loud explosions. I,
along with an unnamed ( and
unremembered) buddy, found a German ammo
dump in a cave. We wound up blowing
the whole damned thing one fine day.
It was noisy. The citizens weren't
happy.
That was the day I decided not to run for mayor in that
town!
Best
Jim ( Jim Mortenson 460
)
______________________________________________________________________
Subj:
Re: FW: "For those who fight...."
Date: 10/9/2002 5:07:26 PM Eastern
Daylight Time
From: Genesir
Hey,
Thanks for the "recoil" from Mike "Varro" Nossaman, on
the boat/ship-whatever those guys call those things. Yes, I know Chris, and his
dad and I were in the same company. His dad was a replacement to the 517th when
we came up from Italy. He served quite well, but got pretty well chewed up later
in the Bulge. Chris has become part of the 517th "family" and he is a
great young American. The 517th is having it's national gathering in May 03
(Oklahoma City) and many of the family and heirs of our guys turn up-about half
of the attendees are family members. I am sure Chris will be
there.
Regards my friend, Gene
Frice, F
Co
_______________________________________________________________________
The
following was sent to me by Boyd Ellis, the brother of Taskel who served with F
Co.
Subj: Fwd: Fw: The Infantryman
Date: 10/10/2002 7:18:23 AM
Eastern Daylight Time
From: Newlb109
___
Fwd; from Greg Johnson
> =====================
> Retired
Marine Colonel George Dodenhoff, an aviator, passed the following
> along
today. As we contemplate sending our Armed Forces into harms way,
who
>
are the youth who will ultimately be called upon to take and hold the
>
ground?...
> - - - - - - - - - - -
> Infantryman
> The average
age of the infantryman is 19 years. He is a short haired,
> tight-muscled
kid who, under normal circumstances is considered by society
> as half
man, half boy. Not yet dry behind the ears, but old enough to die
> for
his country. He never really cared much for work and he would rather
> wax
his own car than wash his father's; but he has never collected
>
unemployment either.
>
> He's a recent High School graduate; he was
probably an average student,
> pursued some form of sport activities,
drives a ten year old jalopy, and
> has a steady girlfriend that either
broke up with him when he left, or
> swears to be waiting when he returns
from half a world away. He listens to
> rock and roll, country, or jazz or
swing and 155mm Howitzers. He is 10 or
> 15 pounds lighter now than when
he was at home because he is working or
> fighting from before dawn to
well after dusk.
>
> He has trouble spelling, thus letter writing is
a pain for him, but he can
> field strip a rifle in 30 seconds and
reassemble it in less. He can recite
> to you the nomenclature of a
machine gun or grenade launcher and use
either
> one effectively if he
must. He digs foxholes and heads and can apply
> first aid like a
professional. He can march until he is told to stop or
> stop until he is
told to march. He obeys orders instantly and without
> hesitation, but he
is not without spirit or individual dignity.
>
> He is
self-sufficient. He has two sets of utilities: he washes one
and
wears
> the other. He keeps his canteens full and his feet dry. He
sometimes
> forgets to brush his teeth, but never to clean his rifle. He
can cook his
> own meals, mend his own clothes, and fix his own hurts. If
you're thirsty,
> he'll share his water with you; if you are hungry, his
food. He'll even
> split his ammunition with you in the midst of battle
when you run low. He
> has learned to use his hands like weapons and his
weapons like they were
> his hands. He can save your life -- and take it
others, because that is
his
> job.
>
> He will often do
twice the work of a civilian, draw half the pay and still
> find ironic
humor in it all. He has seen more suffering and death then he
> should
have in his short lifetime. He has stood atop mountains of dead
> bodies,
and helped to create them. He has wept in public and in private,
> for
friends who have fallen in combat and is unashamed. Just as did his
>
Father, Grandfather, and Great-grandfather, he is paying the price for
our
> freedom. Beardless or not, he is not a boy. He is the American
Fighting
Man
> that has kept this country free for over 200 years. He
has asked nothing
in
> return, except our friendship and understanding.
Remember him, always, for
> he has earned our respect and admiration with
his blood.
>
> He is an
INFANTRYMAN!
__________________________________________________________________________
-Subj:
A Whole New Ballgame
Date: 10/10/2002 9:18:52 AM Eastern Daylight
Time
From: BoomBoomAlicki
To: Ben517
A Whole New Ballgame
"The
president has said this new warfare will require new strategies and
his
strategy of pre-emption in limited and specific instances is
necessary
against Saddam Hussein. Waiting for Saddam is like waiting
for a killer to
knock at the door. When he knocks (or breaks down
the door), it is more
difficult to stop him than if he had been stopped
several miles away.
"The kind of death Saddam Hussein can deliver will
take thousands of lives
if we wait for him to start killing Americans.
Never has the strategy of
getting our enemy before he gets us looked more
defensible, or more urgent."
- Columnist Cal
Thomas
_________________________________________________________________________
Subj:
Frank Fenton
Date: 10/10/2002 9:11:55 PM Eastern Daylight Time
From: hhensleigh@earthlink.net
Dear Ben: Al Goodman wrote me that Frank Fenton was slated for
cancer surgery and that his son Les is interested in knowing some of the things
his Dad did in WW II. Frank was a doer and not much of a talker. We
hope this message gets to both of you. First let me say that we are all
with you Frank during this period of operation and recuperation. You have
made it through a long and useful life of civil service in that small neck
of PA that stretches up to the Erie canal, sometimes mistaken for OH or
NY. There isn't anything I could tell Frank about his hitch with the 517th
that we didn't talk about when we spoke on the phone a few months ago.
Les, your father was a good man--a good soldier. When he could have
carried a much lighter weapon in addition to his load of machine gun equipment
and ammo, he carried a BAR (Browning Automatic Rifle) as his personal
weapon. For those unfamiliar with the weapon, it has a bipod, is much
heavier than a carbine or M-1 and is deadly accurate with good bursts of
automatic fire. Many of the old soldiers thought it was a mistake not to
have used it more readily in WW II. I am not sure just what Frank did
before he became part of the machine gun platoon of Hq. 3rd. It seemed to
me that he was a little older and wiser than most of our 18 year olds. He
is listed in our roster in S. France as a corporal. He went up and down
those mountains of Italy with my section of the platoon. We carried the
bazookas and fortunately did not have to use them to stop a tank attack.
The bazooka was a poor match for a Tiger tank. In the late afternoon
attack on D plus 1, we were ordered to cross a railroad tracks (several lines)
to relieve the pressure on Les Arcs. This was just after our forced march
from where we landed some twenty miles from our drop zone. A few of us
made it over the tracks but the fire was deadly. Lt. Freemen, first
sergeant Gaunce of H Co. and several others made it across and were
killed. As far as I know, I was the only one who went over and came
back. On the other side I hit the dirt and they missed me as I rolled one
way and then the other. I soon realized that I was the only one alive over
there and the section I was supposed to be leading was on the other side of the
tracks. In running back over to join the rest of the battalion, Your Dad
and Zawicki saved my life. He was going to town on his BAR and Zawicki was
firing the bazooka into a building which was the source of most of the
fire. A day or two later, Lt. Col.. Zais asked me to be the Bn.
intelligence officer for the Bn. You did not have to be intelligent --just
lead patrols. I was not closely associated with your father after
that, but kept track of my old section from time to time. Your father was
always there and could be counted on to do his job well. I am not
surprised that his son had some of the same characteristics and followed in his
footsteps. We wish you well in your military career and your Dad the best
in his next battle. God bless, Howard Hensleigh
--- Howard
Hensleigh
_