We were going toward the Seig River. This was the first day of heavy combat where we knew we were going to be engaged. One guy broke down and cried and was mentally unable to accept the fact that we were going into mortal combat. It was interesting to see how he was treated. We were not kind. He stayed back and was lying on the ground crying.
We had some excitement the first night we entered the Mediterranean. Late that night, we heard general quarters sound, so we all went to our battle stations. There were German aircraft overhead. The whole convoy was told not to fire until we could see what was developing. Then all of a sudden, on one of the ships, someone started firing …
You train a man for the military, then when you put him back in civilian life, you rehabilitate him. We called it R and R, rest and recuperation. Submariners who had been out for six months or so came back in to the island changed. I don’t know how to explain it. When you’re living in close quarters – think of 90 men living in one of those boats – everything you do is related to somebody right at your elbow, everything. You have to see it. I can’t tell you how confining it is. When they close that hatch, you’re in a sealed vault.
By March 16, 1945 all our guys had gotten their parachutes properly fitted, and we took off for our next stop, Belem, Brazil. We were flying in a group of about thirty C-46s, and it did not take long for us to get strung out. I don’t think I ever saw another C-46 in flight until we reached England. We landed at Belem, Brazil in the middle of a torrential rain storm and hit so hard that we broke our tail wheel.
The worst thing that happened in Okinawa was a typhoon that hit the island on November 22, 1945. Our camp consisted of a bunch of tents, which were flattened by the typhoon. We had to look for shelter. Initially, we took cover in a quonset hut, but then that blew away. Finally we moved into a tomb, which had numerous skulls staring at us. We knew that we were entering a tomb and were respectful of the remains that were there.
Despite the end of the war, the battle fleet went into Tokyo Bay while we sailed around outside Yokohama Bay and eventually went into the port the following day. We were told that if we wanted to “live dangerously” we could go on liberty for a few hours in Yokohama, which we did.
Everything looked deserted. We could see faces in windows and people on the road at a distance but they never made eye contact with us.
When the green light goes on, the jumpmaster slaps the first guy on the butt, signaling him to jump. The rest of us shuffle up as fast as we can, because once the first guy jumps, there can be no hesitation from the rest of the guys. You have to realize that the plane is flying 110 mph. Every second of hesitation puts you further off your drop zone, and into enemy territory.
Twice we were attacked by American planes. The first time was at night. An American P-61 “Black Widow” night fighter saw a large amount of troops on the ground and thought we were Germans. The second time it was daylight and we were attacked by an American P-47 “Thunderbolt.” There was an ammunition train in front of us. When he attacked he killed two German guards.
During the attack, we broke out of the rail cars into a field where we formed the letters “POW” with our bodies. For the rest of the day we had air cover. American POWs had the USAAF flying air cover, protecting us from both Germans and American.
One day, I translated a three-page handwritten document written by a Russian astronomer. It described how one could send up a rocket at a certain speed with a certain payload. It went on to explain that at a certain speed and weight, you could launch what he called a sputnik, to circle the earth like a satellite. Reading the document then seemed like science fiction.
I did not think anything of it until October 4, 1957, when the Russians launched Sputnik. Little did I know that the satellite I thought was science fiction would be part of the space race between the U.S. and the U.S.S.R.