Dear Ben:
I promised a few Stories about Cervantes of Dick Spencer’s platoon in G Co.
Cervantes was not a big man. These stories are framed in our mud, mules and mountains days in Italy. Every time we took a mountain from the Germans there was another to take a little bit higher further on. We all lightened our loads to make it to the top usually under enemy fire. The gas masks were the first to go. Fortunately we never did need them. In an attack Cervantes and his platoon killed several Germans and took several prisoners. He picked up a flare gun from one of them, but no flares. This was a fierce looking piece of equipment, but without the flares was useless. Cervantes carried the thing up and down the mountains for several days. Dick finally said, "Cervantes, you can’t kill anyone with that thing, give it a toss." Cervantes crouched with a ferocious look on his face with the large caliber flare gun pointed directly at Dick. He retorted, "Me scare ‘em to death."
There was s buck sergeant in the platoon who was the salt of the
earth. He was a farm boy from Iowa. If the Combat Team had had a beauty contest,
this guy would have been last in line. As many units did, the platoon picked up
a mule to carry the load over the mountains. No one could handle the mule as well
as the sergeant who led it mile after mile. Every once in a while Cervantes
would look back at the mule and the sergeant and laugh. Spence, who probably
needed a laugh at the time, asked Cervantes what was funny. Cervantes
responded, "Which one is da mule?" I am not sure these 1944 stories
translate into the 21st Century, but they were humorous at the time.
Howard Hensleigh
Jim Royer
Ben, great news. I was able to read all of Mail Call #683.
What
happened? More later.
Jim Royer, Hq 3rd
*************
You tell me Jim! Others have been receiving it for some time.
-Ben
Leahann Larson
Ben, You asked for personal stories. Here's one I will never forget. I know that thousands of eerie events happened to lots of guys that made them believe in a guardian angel. Here's mine.
It was in Manhay. I was with I Company, Third platoon. We led the attack and were right in the middle of our own massive artillery barrage. That night we all jumped into already dug foxholes. The next morning, one of the guys in the foxhole only a few yards away asked me if I would switch foxholes with him. Can't remember his name, but he was a B.A.R. man. Without hesitation I said "sure", and made the switch. It was late morning, I believe, when a P38 lightning flew overhead. Because of its twin fuselage, it was one of the few planes I could recognize, so I jumped out of the foxhole to take care of a personal matter. Suddenly, the P38 dives and drops a 500 pounder. I dove back in the foxhole. That's when I heard that awful scream. I popped my head up just in time to see the guy with whom I had switched foxholes running with no right arm. Just shreds hung down from what remained of his shoulder. I slumped down in disbelief. If I didn't switch foxholes with him, that would be me. Neither he nor his buddy survived just that one bomb. Friendly fire did it to us again. For quite some time I suffered what is called survivor's guilt. Manhay wasn't the only rime my guardian angel was looking after me. I'll tell you about another incident in which I was shot when leading an attack as pointman at a later time. It boggles my mind. Incidentally, if the trooper who was with me in the foxhole is among our members, please write me.
Mike 517
Date: 10/13/2001 10:00:42 AM Eastern Daylight Time
From: Fred
Beyer
I was in Manhay, and will never forget the artillery barrage the night before I lost my arm from that P38. It could be the one you are talking about. I was in a foxhole with Cleo Browning and believe he was killed. I do remember that Lt. Stott was killed that night.
I don't remember any one named Mike off hand. Refresh my memory, will you?
Sunday October 14, 2001
Fred Beyer
Date: 10/13/2001 10:51:06 PM Eastern Daylight Time
From Mike
Spano
Hi, FT Beyer...
I was astounded to hear that you survived the P38 attack. When I saw you running, I thought you would never make it with all the blood loss. God bless you. It was either you or your buddy who switched foxholes with me prior to the attack. Do you remember? Believe me, the switch happened. Was it you or your buddy who was the B.A.R. man? Please let me hear from you. However, we are driving to Florida tomorrow to our winter home and need a week to get my PC turned on there. I can't believe it. All these years I thought you were dead. I don't think we knew each other very well, so I didn't expect you to remember me when I couldn't recall your name either. But I'll never forget the incident. I was in the foxhole next to you.
Mike Spano