William Gieske during WWII
By William Gieske
(Continued from 2/7/22)
In January 1944, we were given leave, strictly army fashion, from as far from home as you can get. I got on the train in Needles, California, at 10 o’clock on Tuesday night and got off in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, on Saturday at 1 o’clock. Except for several hours in Chicago all this time was spent on the train. As soon as I arrived, I was told Niles Long was dead. He and a group of cadets were killed when their bus was hit by a train in Kingman, Arizona. I paid a duty call to his mother and went to the funeral.
My brother came home on leave from the navy, and my cousin was home also, so we managed a few exciting evenings. Being the saviors of our nation we were treated very well. Good things do not last long and soon I had to return.
Shortly after my return to California, we loaded on a troop train and headed East to Camp Miles Standish. From the dry air of the desert to the damp swamp of this camp. We were brought up to date on shots and whatever and issued new weapons, the new carbine they started using. As issued it was covered with cosmoline and required hours of cleaning. Loads of fun inspired by the knowledge your life could be affected by the job you did.
We were only there a short time and soon loaded on a boat for a refreshing ocean cruise. Our bunks were four high and so close you could not rollover.
We had 500 black soldiers in the hold under the mess hall. This was a segregated army at the time. I went into the mess hall to eat after we were underway. It was a large room the full width of the ship. The tables were stand up style and the area was divided into about four sections. Many of the men were already seasick and throwing up as soon as they looked around this large swaying room. I grabbed a sandwich and an apple, dumped the rest and headed up the ladder. The deck was covered with soldiers, both black and white, almost all seasick. I ate my apple and enjoyed the sea air.
That night I was on MP duty guarding a ladder from an invasion, I guess, and above me was Coaldust, a coal miner from the hills of Tennessee. He was as sick as you can get and every time he heaved, he made me heave. I drank water so I would have something in me to throw up the next time.
Toward morning some old salt came by and asked me what was wrong, I told him of the situation. He said I will fix that and soon returned with a tumbler of whiskey. At his insistence I drank it and as he said, it cured me. He stayed to talk and I told him of the lousy grub the English cooks served. He asked me if I would work for better food, after I jumped at the chance, he said he would get me a job in the Merchant Marine kitchen.
They had a little area to themselves with the kitchen in between the Merchant Marine and the Coast Guard. There was no cooking, as they brought the food in from the main kitchen. I helped serve and go for fresh fruit down in the bowels of the ship.
At night, I made coffee and sandwiches for the seamen or the Coast Guard as this was a twenty- four hour operation. Life on board a troop transport has no day or night, its all one time. With lots of time to kill and no organized things to do it was sleep, gamble or walk around.
We spent fifteen days to cross the Atlantic. When we got into the North Sea it lived up to its reputation of big waves and our little banana boat sure could roll. I helped the regular mess man haul the garbage cans up as he never could have done it alone. It was up a step and wait for the roll and then up again. When the hatch was opened, down came a deluge of dirty water. It was foolish to be on deck unless your duty forced it.
We finally landed at Wales. The last day we were out, the gang in the kitchen wouldn’t let me help. They told me it was my turn to be waited on and what did I want. Because we were told eggs would be scarce I wanted six eggs. They came back with three platters, as eggs only come in pairs. Once again I left some new friends and moved on. We were trucked to someplace in England. The first few days we moved from one place to another and finally ended up in a loft over some stores.
There were about thirty of us there with the rest of the outfit in several other buildings. In the morning there were two doughnut dollies who came to load their truck. All we had to do was take our mess cup and it was breakfast, two doughnuts and coffee. What more was needed? We soon were loaded up again and off to our camp outside of Exeter, England.
We were taken to a tent camp that was on the grounds of some castle. Our mess halls were large Quonset huts and our sewage system was a wonder to behold. With the large number of men in such a small area, it would have required a very good sewage system to handle our waste. Someone came up with a system that defies belief. Our latrines were constructed so all waste went into large buckets similar to a large coal scuttle. There were trap doors so these could be removed easily and loaded onto a trailer towed by a jeep. At one corner of this estate a special group of ovens were constructed, fed by pipes leading to tanks of fuel oil. All the waste was burned in these ovens, an all day job. This dirty sooty job was given to the biggest screwups in the battery. I think the sight of these two sooty unfortunate souls, and the task they had, did more to deter anyone from screwing up and be given this detail than anything else that could have been devised.
We had little to do as a normal course of affairs and were given lots of freedom. Our guns had arrived some where in England we were told, but with all the material that was there waiting for the invasion to come they were lost. We were offered 155 Howitzers but insisted on our more accurate 4.5s.
At last our guns were located and we went out in the field to try them out. We were somewhere in the moors of England, full of rabbits as large as domestic ones. Every where we went there were rabbits and at night on the switchboard it was as though they held a rally for our benefit. We practiced throwing the combat knives we bought on board ship at them without success. One night I did not want to sleep in a tent so I stayed out in the open. At night there was a heavy dew, almost like rain, so I crawled under a truck and slept well. Waking up in the middle of the night I braced myself to roll over. My hand came down on something wet and furry, I found another place and moved over to a different spot further from what ever it was. In the morning I remembered this and moved the truck to see what I had felt the night before. It was the large head of a rabbit.
Somewhere Buck and I met. Buck was a dispatch rider in the RAF. He wore a long leather jacket without sleeves and had a flaming red handle bar mustache. Everyone in the whole area knew Buck, which meant thousands of English RAF people. We became good friends and I soon spent all the time off with him, even visiting most of the RAF bases for teatime which is a big English tradition.
He was stationed in a house with several other riders and also had the use of a minitruck. Being able to get around the countryside, he located eggs several times and as they got a bread ration and jam, it was something to look forward to after an evening of pub trotting.
I remember one night we went by train to see a Warrant Officer Buck knew, play piano at some Pub on the outskirts of town. Several of Bucks roommates went with us and we got loaded. On the way home they got rowdy and threw the blackout lamps out the window. I stopped them from throwing out the cushions. One big Irishman fell from the luggage rack on my shoulder, almost breaking it, but I felt no pain. When we arrived at our station the conductor came after us about what we were doing. I can remember saying I would take care of the damages, even if I had to buy the whole train. The conductor laughed and told us to beat it.
We were planning to go to a RAF dance one Saturday night when I was put on KP. I got night duty which meant keeping fire under the big outdoor stoves, used mainly to heat water for scrubbing up. Buck came over and found out I could not go. He returned a few days later and told me they were planning a farewell dance special because I was missed.
At night on KP we noticed there was more activity at the nearby airbase than normal. We sometimes saw them towing gliders and landing with the troop transports. This night traffic was very heavy. In the morning we were told it had started and soon we were loaded up heading for the coast. Much to my regret, I never saw Buck again, except on leave in Paris. I thought I saw him and ran down the street chasing a motorcycle but was unable to catch it. Ce Le Guerre.
We were loaded up and set off for the port, an all day drive on the narrow streets. We arrived late in the day and had our eyes opened to the realities of war. A troop train loaded with American wounded blocked our path. We had a first hand look at what we were facing. In small scattered groups guarded by GIs were German prisoners of war. Some were walking wounded. For them the war was over. For us it presented an uncertain future ahead.
We were unloaded and billeted in large warehouse style buildings located on the water front. The next day we were issued, among other things, ammunition and took care of last minute affairs. I smoked Lucky Strike cigarettes, and recall that Lucky Strike green had gone to war. I received a carton of green cigarettes, still wrapped in leadfoil, which had gone out years before. It is amazing what was stockpiled in preparation for the invasion. There was so many tons of material loaded in readiness that it was joked that only the barrage balloons kept England from sinking.
Early in the morning we loaded on LCTs. These were barge like boats with a large deck open below, an engine room in the rear and a two story structure in the rear of the craft. This gave the Captain and his one crew member a higher platform for better visibility. All the craft flew a small barrage balloon, tied to a winch which made raising or lowering easier.
We crossed in a group which made a nice convoy. As boats got close, the balloons would come closer blown by the wind and cheered on by men who were bored and at the same time wondering what lie ahead, afraid and yet not afraid, just anxious to get on with the job that lay ahead.
It was late in the day when we made landfall. What a sight. Large ships with holes blown in them and sunk for jetties. There were fireworks here and there and not knowing what was happening, made it all the more exciting. All the trucks were waterproofed and made ready for the landing. Our driver came down with the mumps when the trucks were worked on, so the job was given to two wiremen. Our craft pulled in as far as he could and dropped the ramp. All the front trucks pulled out. It was soon our turn. We had a 3/4 ton weapons carrier pulling a trailer, all overloaded. We hit the water with a splash and there we stayed. The waterproofing was a failure. Our landing craft put it into reverse and raised the ramp and took off for merry old England and his evening meal, leaving us to our fate.
We were at least three hundred yards from the beach and we soon found out the truck wasn’t sinking, the tide was coming in. We put all the bedrolls up as high as we could and wondered what would happen now. A large type duck came close and we all shouted until he came closer. He told us that after he took care of a jeep he would be back.
In a short while he returned with a cable from the beach, I jumped over to the duck along with most of the crew. The other end of the cable went to a large dozer on the beach so after our driver waded in and fastened it to the truck, we were towed ashore in short order, triple A GI style. Once ashore we were towed until the truck started.
We headed up the beach to where we could drive up off the beach. In a short distance we stalled again and had to locate another dozer for a tow. By this time it was dark and with fire works in different places along with strange noises we were getting slightly nervous. I know all of us were looking forward to rejoining our unit and familiar faces, to face what might lie ahead.
After a short drive up the beach we found the road leading up the hill away from the beach. It was now dark and the road was bordered by mine field tape and we were lost. When we saw troops along the road we asked about our outfit. We were told they would be looking for us down the road. A little way down the road we were stopped by several men from our battery and directed to an area in a large field. We were told to bed down and not to wander around as there could be mines in the area. I doubt if anyone was in a wandering mood.
June 15, 1944
Battery C moved into firing position to support the 82nd Airborne troops. We were set up by a small crossroads. A group of people came down the road that morning, about a dozen inmates of an insane asylum tended by about three nuns. The nuns were trying to take them where they would be safe.
We ran the necessary telephones lines in and then had time to look around. Coming back from the gun position I saw a long narrow field lower than the surrounding ones. This was hedgerow country, large mounds of earth with the trees and brush growing on them. The Germans had dug foxholes and tunneled through the hedgerow so they could shoot in relative safety. There were about fifty soldiers and officers lying dead in their positions, apparently surprised by the paratroops.
One of our men called me over to where he was manning an aerial mount fifty and said I should take a look. There were two paratroopers dead about ten feet from him. He said I should look up above. On a slight rise nearby was another trooper lying on his back. His face was blown away leaving only his tongue and lower jaw in the front of his head. His appearance was shocking enough but when I saw his carbine and haversack I had another shock.
His serial number was on the bag and it was very close to mine. This indicated he was from close to my home. There were many more dead troopers in the area, some by themselves and some in small groups. There were also about a dozen living near us, most of them in a state of shock from what they had gone through. Later on they must have left to rejoin their unit which was the outfit we were supporting.
We were in this area several days firing support fire, this gave the rest of our battalion time to get ashore and get organized. Before we left this place, Graves Registration came through picking up the bodies. They used an old bloody stretcher and carried the corpse over to the truck where they were thrown in like an old log. This was our introduction to combat.
Our next position was where we experienced the first of two false gas alarms. When we left England we waterproofed our gasmask. There was a large clip placed on the hose below the mask and the canister was taped so no water could get in. We were to remove this when we were on shore. The wire crew was sleeping in an orchard, this was cider country. That night someone drove a car without tires down a dirt road making sounds like the gas alarms. The word spread like wildfire, GAS ALARM. We had just bedded down and had not yet gone to sleep. I was near DEDE Stanton and Jaskolka who were buddies. I could hear DEDE saying I can’t breath, I can’t breath. Jas called him over and removed the clip from the hose. Still DEDE could not breath until he also removed the tape from the canister. Even with the tension, we felt at the time we had a good laugh.
Time has made a blur of many of the events that we experienced in Normandy. I can remember other events, but can not tie them to a particular place. I remember another false gas alarm that we had where one of the cooks had tied his mask up in the bows of the truck. Since he could not get it loose this is where he had to stand until the alarm was over. This same fellow used to regret not joining the Navy until we shipped out and he spent the entire voyage in the bunk hoping to die so he would no longer be seasick.
June 29th, 1944
We moved into position late that day and because of the time and the ground being so hard, no one dug in as deep as they should. I had been shifted to the fire control of the battery and had three
phones to handle. I had dug a shallow hole near a fence row thinking I could dig deeper the next day. The star shelling started after dark. Star shells normally mean you can be seen as they light up the whole area. Everyone was afraid of what would come next, not of the star shells themselves. This did not mean they were not dangerous, as they were from about an eight inch shell. I saw the base plate from one and it was about ten pounds of steel. During the shelling several men were struck by these base plates, one man had his legs broken.
The shelling lasted about one half hour, or longer, during which time we got a fire mission. I tried to stay in the little hole I had and get the phones to me, but they were so tangled from the excitement I couldn’t tell one from the other. We took the fire mission, (a mission to have our artillery fire upon the enemy) and called it to the guns. It was hard to get the men out from under the gun and I can still hear Sgt. Conti yelling at his crew to get moving. I think our training made the difference, plus we all thought our fire mission could be on the guns that were firing at us. At some later time we were informed the shelling came from a damaged shore battery and was done by German soldiers unfamiliar with guns. It was fortunate for us as high explosives could have wiped us out.
The next day I went into the large house that was in our position. It must have been the center for the Germans in this area as there were hundreds of German dog tags here. The Germans were taking very heavy casualties. One of the men brought me several German eight mm. cartridges with wooden slugs in them. They were sure that they had poison shells. The wooden part was dyed the ugliest shade of purple or red. I picked up a German Mauser and fired several rounds into a shell hole and came to the conclusion that they were not very dangerous. I believe they were rounds used for training as I don’t think they could kill even at close range.
During the month, we crisscrossed the peninsula and went though the towns that became famous because of the fighting in this area. We became the first artillery to fire on Cherbourg but never went into the town. We became acquainted with the French cider, cognac and saw first hand the primitive way these dirty people live. We had gun positions in orchards close to the farmhouse and saw first hand children sent to the rural area to escape city life. They were so full of lice, their hair was white. I remember one area where the family used the dung heap as their outdoor toilet.
We moved into an area where the 83rd Division had taken heavy casualties. I still have a compass that I picked up from a mortar crew that must have been wiped out. It was in this location that I picked up an M1 rifle and soon put my carbine away and used the M1. The carbine did not have the punch I felt I wanted and the M1 had a much longer range. I also salvaged a machine gun which had been blown into a shell hole. I cleaned this up but turned it in to the Army who gave it to the FFI Forces [French Forces of the Interior, Resistance military forces united under the command of General Koenig], who we had little use for. The peninsula was getting crowded as there were more divisions here. We knew something had to happen, as we needed more room.
July 25, 1944
The time up to now has been do your job and survive. There were many places and many events that I no longer remember. I do remember the events of this date. The day started out as any other day would but soon we had a lot more air activity. No one had informed us of what was to take place.
The air was soon full of P51s doing their thing, dive bombing and strafing. We had excellent seats for the show. This is what it turned out to be, the air show of the war. The dive bombers worked over the flak guns real hard and we did several missions to help out.
Later in the morning the bombers came over, all types and all sizes. The first group had dropped their loads and were on the way back before the last planes had taken off, so large was the air attack. Even after the workout the fighters had given, the Germans still were able to send up flak and knocked down several heavy bombers. We counted chutes and knew that some of the crew did not get out. It was hard knowing that these were our planes and our men that were dying.
We were close to the lines, not as close as the infantry, but close enough to have the ground shimmy and shake from the large bombs that were being dropped. Due to the smoke and dust, some of the planes dropped a little short, but we never heard if there were any of our troops killed.
When we moved up we only stopped overnight in the first position. There were bulldozers digging large trenches to bury the great number of cows killed in the bombing. Cows were one of the biggest casualties we saw in all of Normandy. After the war I found out the fighter planes would use up the last of their ammunition strafing cows. The Germans used lots of horses and sometimes we would pass a dozen or so which had been left behind. Some of the horses looked like pretty good stock but we never got close enough to try them out.
July 28, 1944
The 183rd Battalion was the other battalion with the 4.5 gun. It was kind of a sister battalion and some of the men we had taken basic with, were transferred to this battalion. We never found out who got killed but knew they were almost wiped out.
Some of the divisions would bypass groups of Germans and leave a token force to contain them. If the Germans were diehards, which many of them were, this presented problems for other troops who were not setup to fight these groups as they battled there way through the unit.
In one of our positions, we were firing many yards away and still taking small arms fire in our area. In order to get to the mess truck, it was necessary to do some tricks to avoid the fire. In this area I found a small truck abandoned by the Germans, it had many egg type grenades in it. The fuse on all the German grenades was very versatile as it could be exchanged very easily to a different time fuse. This made it easy to make booby traps.
For want of some thing to do I removed all the fuses so the grenades were harmless. While I was doing this two men came in, they were scrounging around German equipment. They said there was another place close by so I said lets go. They had a jeep and we took off.
We went down the road to some houses but they weren’t too interesting. The next thing I knew I was in the front lines as these two Jokers were Lt’s from an infantry platoon trenched in about one half mile from us to help contain the Germans. The Germans were finally taken care of by several tanks that were brought in and swept through our unit to take on the Germans. This made the area a lot safer.
(To Be Continued)
Published U.S. Legacies October 2005
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