An Historical Account ~ Vaughan E. Alien ~ My grandpa's BN

[MSP39]

An Historical Account

On March 21, 1941, I was inducted into the army at Fort Douglas, Utah, Salt Lake City. Here, we received our first uniforms and boarded a train for Fort Knox, Kentucky. After a three day journey we arrived at Louisville, Ky. and were tucked into Fort Knox for Basic Training. After three months Basic Training, I was assigned to the 757th Tank Battalion. The 752nd and 755th tank battalions were simultaneously organized.


Prior to shipment to the assigned battalion, we were given aptitude test to determined qualifications to attend various schools such as clerical, mechanical, radio operator or such other technical training as would be needed to successfully maneuver a tank battalion. I was assigned to Radio Operators School which consisted of learning to send and receive Morse Code and how to operate a message center in a corvTuand post. After three months of dit dit dahs, I completed the radio school and was sent to the 757th at Fort Ord, California.

I arrived at Fort Ord, California in October 1941. This post was in the process of building unit barracks and other facilities and was in one hell of a mess. The 757th was relegated to the East Garrison as this was the only place available at that time.

The East Garrison consisted of a mess hall, old wood and screened latrines, and 150 square platforms, 24 foot by 24 foot made of concrete on which we were to erect pyramidal tents for living quarters. The scene that unfolded was unforgettable.

I was assigned to Co. "A1* of the 757th and served in Co. "A" the rest of my time in the army. Training at Fort Ord, under Colonel Tow and Colonel Cronk, lasted until the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. By this time, we had received six or seven tanks for each of the three companies and a full compliment of officers and enlisted men. I recall among the new officers was a little kid who could have been accepted as a sophomore in high school. His name was Ted Rosen, 2nd. Lt; also, a First Lt. named Benjamin Martin. These two officers served in "A" Co. for the remainder of their lives.

The attack on Pearl Harbor created havoc and excitement throughout the whole army. Troops were shifted all along the west coast of the continental U.S.A. to stop any invasion of the west coast.
The 757th was sent to March Field to protect the Air Force in the event of an invasion or a paratrooper drop inland. This all boiled down to nothing within thirty days. The General in charge of March Field was fed up with tanks running over the lawns and breaking the curbing and sidewalks; so, we lasted about ten days and were kicked out of March Field.
　
　
Our next stop was suburbia Canyon Crest Heights. The move was unbelievable. The homes we moved into were F.H.A. and my next door neighbor was a girl 21 years of age working in Riverside, California. There were twelve men living in each house; so, we were housed from one end of the subdivision to the other. This consisted of five or six blocks of houses and troop control was nil. No one knew where anyone else was for two weeks. Finally, we were oriented and a roster set up reflecting location of all personnel. This situation was too good to last for long and died an unnatural death. There was no place to operate tanks. Our next move was thirty miles east of Indio, California to the Mohave Desert. Training was ideal for desert warfare and it was supposed we were preparing for North African warfare. Not only the 757th was at the Desert Training Center, but also the 752 and 755 Tank Battalions were also assigned.


All three battalions trained side by side. At this post, we were united with most of the troops we trained with at Fort Knox, Ky. It seemed good to see someone we were drafted with at Ft. Douglas, Utah, home town boys we grew up with including my brother Tom Alien and a friend Jesse J. Layton.
While at the Desert Training Center, Colonel Cronk replaced Colonel Tow, who was infantry trained and not adequately trained for tank warfare. General Patton had something to do with this change. He gave us a two hour lecture one day and after all the yelling and cussing, he became known as Old Blood and Guts. His language and reference in addressing the troops was not recommended for tea-party occasions.


One of General Patton's pet peeves was soldiers wearing coveralls not completely buttoned and an individual using a tank helmet without the chin strap fastened. He hit one of the "A" Co. tank drivers and almost knocked him down. He also knocked the unfortunate tank driver's helmet off. He then told the unfortunate to wear that helmet with the chin strap or he would Court Marshal him. He did explain the purpose of the safety features when driving cross country and etc. The helmet was to keep him from being injured when thrown into the side of the tank or other obvious injury. General Patton also stopped and told a gentlemen or. top of a telephone pole to get his fatigues buttoned up. The lineman responded in effect, "I work for Bell Telephone Co. and I won't take orders from you." This stopped the old boy for a few minutes.
After four or five months of training in the desert, dodging heliomonsters and rattlesnakes, they commenced to move out for the East coast. The 752th was shipped to England. The 755th went to North Africa and the 757th went to A.P. Hill, Virginia. We stayed at this location for two or three months and then moved to Fort Monroe, N.C. Two months more and we moved to Ft. Jackson, S.C. At Ft. Jackson, we had a General inspect us from head to foot called "Yoo Hoo Lear." We then had to pass in review to the tune of "Over There." Finally, in the later part of February 1942, we were shipped to Ft. Dix, N.J. This was an　
embarkation point to Europe or Africa. Within a week we were aboard the John Erickson floating towards Casablanca, Morocco. This was an old ship, but large and capable of hauling a large group of soldiers. Five or six thousand all told. Numerous G.I.'s were sick all the way over, approximately nine to ten days. We were on the alert to watch for bombers or German aircraft all the way over. The convoy ahead of our group was bombed off the coast of Africa; consequently, our convoy was routed along South America south of the equator then across the Atlantic and back up the coast of Africa to Casablanca. We lucked out and cruised into the bay without any bombing attacks. We unloaded our barracks bags and weapons and marched three miles to our camp grounds before dark. No tents or a darn thing was available so we rolled out the bed rolls and slept good that night. We pitched tents the next day and set up camp for two or three months and then went north through Rabat to Port Lyautey, Morocco. We set up camp four or five miles to the east of Port Lyautey in a cork forest. This was nothing more than sand dunes and cork trees. All drinking water had to be hauled from the town everyday and rations and other goods were dumped at the Port by ships of truck convoys. This went on for four or five months while Rommel and Montgomery were fighting the North African campaign.


About November we were directed to move from Port Lyautey to Oran, Algiers on the south coast of the Mediterranean. This was a rainy, wet time of the year and many troops were on the move. On this type of soil, clay and more clay, we had mud up to our rear ends and were wet and soggy all the time we were there. This didn't last too long, maybe thirty days. We then loaded on a ship for Naples, Italy. I remember pulling into Naples harbor. Seven or eight ships were lying on their sides. Our bombers had done .a good job. Most of the ships were Italian with one or two German vessels also tipped over. I do not remember if any were American ships, but I don't think they were.


At Naples, we were moved into barracks which were nice quarters with showers and a mess hall, all built for army troops by the Mussolini Clan. All over Naples, they had super air raid shelters. The one behind the barracks was very large and deep enough to stop anything. Most certainly it stopped German bombs and we were bombed a few times the first week we were there. After three or four days we moved into an apple orchard ten miles out of Naples into a more secure area for tank troops. This was nothing more than a waiting area as our tanks had not arrived or been unloaded in the Naples harbor.


Our tanks finally were unloaded and came out to the bivouac area resulting in a move to a little village called Rocca Romana. With two weeks of rain, this turned out to be the Mud Capital of the World. Our tanks were too heavy for this muddy terrain. After three weeks, we moved towards the front lines for a better bivouac area with a good rocky foundation so the tanks could operate overall. While at this point, we were assigned to a railhead and spent a few days unloading artillery shells for the
artillery units up front. Shells that weighed 35 to 150 pounds each. The larger shells were for eight inch howizters or 155MM long torn guns in that area.


Eventually, the commanding general ordered the battalion to move up and prepare for action. We did move close to the Cassino area and were all set to go into action. The 8" howitzers moved up 200 yards to the rear of our area and started firing during the night. The muzzle blast blew our pup tents down, put out fires that were burning and scared the hell out of everybody. The next day the commanding general came up to look things over and when he saw our light tanks, he blew a fuse and told us to get those paint removers out of there and go back for medium tanks. This was the best thing that every happened to the 757th and the best Christmas present we ever had. The date was about December 25, 1943.


We returned to the rear area and drew medium tanks, new personnel, one or two new officers, and trained for another two months learning how to operate medium tanks and its 75MM gun. After training for about three to four months, we were prepared and ready for the big spring push.


Co. "A" was assigned to move up and set up a road block along the Garagalonio River. The 3rd platoon with Lt. Dane in charge moved up front and held this position for two weeks. While waiting, Lt. Dane jumped from the top of his tank, broke his ankle, and was sent to the hospital.



May the 9th, 1944 General Mark Clark and General De Gaulle came up to where "A" Co. was situated and asked a few questions about activities going on and then went to a French outpost. Thirty minutes later, they returned and went on back to the rear echelon. That night General De Gaulle's troops from the Belgium Congo started moving up. These were big, black individuals and were anywhere from six feet four inches to seven foot nine inches tall. I've never seen such big men, but they were very friendly and were just like little kids when it came to candy, hard tack, chocolate, and etc. They ate our excess candy in the three days they were moving up through us to the front lines.


Finally, everything was in place and on May 12, 1944, we kicked off the big push for Rome. At 0430 hours, I took the 3rd platoon of Co. "A" and moved forward. Four hundred yards up the road, all hell broke loose. Machine guns were rattling, artillery shells were exploding, dust was so thick you could hardly see, machine gun bullets were zinging off the side of my tank and I still couldn't see where it was coming from. At 0600 hours, it was light enough to see and a French major jumped up on my tank and told me he was going to take the hill directly in front of us and to spray machine gun fire just above his men as they moved up. They started to move and my five tanks started firing ahead of them. In forty-five minutes, his troops had taken the hill. Capt. Rosen called to see if everything was ok. I told him that we were ok and hung up. This seemed to generate a barrage of 　
artillery fire all over my tank. I kept moving as those shells were digging five foot holes everywhere they hit. Finally they stopped firing. I started to go around the hill and I hit an anti-tank mine. That blew the track off of my tank. I stayed in the tank until the French Goons had taken the hill and 77 prisoners. Then we jumped out and went back for another tank. I got the new tank loaded with ammunition, fuel, etc. and moved backed into combat.


The next day Mt. Trocchio and Maggorie, known to us as "Twin Tit" Hills, came into view. By this time, we had taken five or ten miles of German territory and the Germans were in full retreat. We kept right on their tails, firing at anything that moved. About this time, Capt. Sollum and Tom Davis and their crews were killed. This taught me a lesson as to what to do when we saw a house with a basement window. From this point forward, we fired a 75MM through the windows and saved a lot of tanks and men from being casualties.


I went back into action with my platoon two days after I had received my new tank and within two hours an 88MM hit the tank and destroyed the rocker arms, volute springs, then hit the side of the tank. It failed to penetrate the tank, but I think it was due to the distance it was firing from, approximately two miles away from the top of a hill. The boggy wheels raised up off the track and the tank would not turn to the left. All we could do was back up until we were behind a hill and then we turned around and went back for another tank. Since tanks were in short supply at this time and Sgt. O'Brien was wounded, I took his tank and went, back into combat. The name of this tank was Ali Baba and was the favorite tank with the Arabs. They used to keep my crew well supplied with straight grain alcohol and always had a few gallon jugs on hand. The Arabs were the damnedest soldiers I ever fought with. They would move into combat carrying chickens or leading a cow or a sheep or anything that they could eat.


It seemed like from this point to Rome, we moved fairly fast. The Angio beach head put a lot of pressure on the Germans, thus weakening their lines all over. Accordingly, they pulled out and moved north of Rome before setting up a defensive line. Rome fell on June 5, 1944 to General Mark Clark,
I do not remember when Claude Milstead came to Co. "A". He was assigned to 3rd Platoon and was my platoon officer. We had numerous clashes with the Germans but always came through some how. I remember one incident while we were climbing a long hill up a straight road and we had covered 3/4 of a mile when the enemy opened fire. We were on a high road with very steep embankment on both sides of the road. It was too steep to turn off in most places. The first shell went over our tanks. Immediately Milstead went over the left side behind a house. The second shell hit the road in front of my tank and ricocheted into the front slope gouging out enough steel to make a small hole on the front slope and then bounce off. Through this small hole came a piece of steel and cut my driver's nose off. Hyde bled
like a stuck hog and was bleeding real bad, I told Hyde to turn over the side and get down the embankment with both brakes on. He turned and over we went howling down the hill. We finally stopped and got behind a house for protection and then took care of Hyde. In the meantime, three tanks behind my tank couldn't turn off because it was too steep on both sides of the road. Consequently, they had to back up three to four hundred yards to get behind a hill for safety. All the way back, the Germans were banging away and knocked 1/3 of the sprocket off the right side of Frank Halls' tank. Every time the sprocket turned around, it almost threw the track, however, the three tanks finally made it to safety with a prayer.


We called for a jeep to come up and get Hyde. The jeep came up a ravine on the right side of the road and took him to the hospital. Milstead called for the tank destroyers to move up on the left side of the German tanks which they did and knocked out both German tanks from half a mile away with three inch Navy guns. After destroying the tanks,, they shot holes through the barrels of both guns. That was damned good shooting, I would say.


The next day we moved forward and saw what gave us a hell of a scare and almost ruined two tanks in our platoon. Their tanks were shot to pieces and blood was all over the place. We suppose they got their just dues. We kept moving forward working our way to Siena.


Somewhere prior to reaching Siena, Milstead left my platoon and went to the First Platoon. The next time "A" Co. went into combat, Milstead led the attack on a village called Castellinia. This city was well fortified and as they moved in all hell broke loose. Milstead was seriously wounded, loosing his right leg and almost an arm. He was attended by our medics who bound him up real good and sent him to the hospital for medical attention.
On July 23 we were north of Siena moving toward Florence. Things seemed to slow down at this point. The French troops had been relieved from action in Italy and were to be used in the invasion of Southern France at a later date. The 757th was awarded the "Croix De Guerre", a French medal, for the support we gave them in their Italian campaign. The 757th was also cited by the War Department for splendid achievements.


It appeared that we were now delaying our push to allow the British to move up on our right side parallel with the American forces to the West. We pulled back a few miles to allow for a two or three week rest. Capt. Rosen gave me a twenty dollar bill and a Tommy Gun and told me to take a jeep and two men and bring a good size beef back for dinner the next day. Thankfully, I took a jeep and a couple of men and set out on a business and stealing spree. Within an hour, we had liberated a full size beef, brought it back, killed it, dressed it out, buried the hide and entrails, and hung the steer up on the T-II wrecker to cool out over night. The next day Capt. Rosen invited Major Cochrane
　
to have dinner with Co."A". He was very surprised to have steak for dinner and gulped it down quite rapidly. He took leave of us and almost ran to Headquarters Co. so as to enjoy another steak dinner. All Headquarters Co. had was hash. He went straight to the Mess Sgt., raised hell, and wanted to know where the steak was. The Mess Sgt. said he would like to know also; that he could hardly stand hash. Cochrane was one more unhappy Major until he learned that we had made a midnight reconnaissance to capture our steak.


A few weeks later we were moved back to the front for combat. I was to take the lead with 3rd Platoon the next day. Capt. Rosen called me over to his tent for a resume of the next days schedule and gave me the maps of the area. While I was there, we consumed about 1/2 of a fifth of Schenleys Black Label American whiskey. This was Rosen's monthly ration that only officers received. At 2300 hours I left Capt. Rosen and went to bed. At 0200 hours, 30 September, 1944, I was awakened by a heavy barrage of fire from the enemy. They w^re laying down a hell cf a barrage all around us.
First Sgt. Peterson, Co. "C", was only 150 yards to the rear of my tank. He jumped into a jeep and tried to leave the area. He was killed 75 yards from the house he had just left by a direct hit. Had he stayed in the old house, he would have been safe.

The next morning, October 1, I moved my platoon into the front line again, slow firing as we moved. The Infantry troops were walking alongside the tanks and pointed out places the Germans were firing from. We destroyed numerous pill boxes and advanced eight to ten miles by 1900 hours. At this point, I left _the Infantry Troop and moved back to refuel and take on ammunition. On the way back in the dark of the night, I led my platoon through a mine field we had passed earlier when suddenly a^mine exploded on the right side of my tank. I felt a sharp pain in my right arm, but did not know what had happened. When we arrived at the little town for supplies, I pulled off my jacket which by now was soaked with blood. I then realized I had a broken arm. A piece of shrapnel had broken a bone just below the elbow. I left the battalion and went to a Rome hospital for three months.


The next day, October 2, 1944, Capt. Rosen took over my platoon. He moved up to the area where I had left the Infantry troops the night before. He had some difficulty encouraging the Infantry to move forward. He left his tank and about this time a H.E. shell exploded nearby and a piece of shrapnel killed Capt. Rosen.

Approximately one month after Capt. Rosen was killed, Sgt. Bill Forbes was leading his platoon and pulled up next to an old house. A German bazooka projectile hit Forbes' tank. Sgt. Forbes jumped out of the tank and was left in a daze, staggering around not knowing where he was. The Germans machine gunned him killing him on the spot.
After three months in the hospital in Rome, I was sent to Pisa.


This was for rehabilitation and reconditioning. This consisted of running, walking, working my arm, and hiking into Pisa for more booze or anything available that we could find. Three weeks of this and I was sent back to the 757th at Loiana on Highway 65.


I was issued winter clothing and sent to the Front with my platoon. They were stationed within shooting distance of the Germans. One day I had itchy feet so I took a hike up a creek bed. After a bullet went zinging by, I shagged it back to my cave and stayed there until relieved.
When spring arrived, things started to heat up on the big push to Bologna. The snow was too deep to move the tanks so we traded the ones we couldn't move to the 752nd for a bunch of junk they were glad to get rid of. I kissed Ali Baba good bye and returned to the rear echelon for another tank.
While in the area of Florence, Capt. Rodgers became Company Commander of Co. "A". I recall when I v?.s in my tank stashing 76MM ammunition, getting ready to move up front, he pinned 2nd Lt. bars on my shoulders. I became an officer. I then started receiving the pay I had been earning for three months.


Good weather finally came and the push to Bologna became a reality. My platoon was assigned to Mt. Amigo, a hill three to four hundred yards east of Hwy. 65, and a bad one to capture. Col. Erickson called a meeting and gave us all the run-down on the plan,when to go and where. The area around Barchetta was in our hand and the hill to the north was in German hands. The next day, March 12, I believe I moved my platoon up to the base of the hill into Barchetta. The field artillery, rockets and every damn thing the Fifth Army had and could throw at the enemy came flying over . to soften the line. I moved forward and had to cross a creek, the engineers were suppose to have made a crossing earlier. The creek was running near flood stage due to the spring run off. When I arrived at the creek, the bulldozer was running but the driver had been killed; so, I could not cross. I called back and after one hour another driver came up and completed the bridge over the creek. In the meantime, flares were overhead and mortar shells came in from everywhere. Smoke and dust made it look like a heavy fog. We finally were able to cross the bridge and started up the hill.


The Infantry troops were lying down everywhere on the flat slope ahead of us. I moved through the Infantry to a road on top of the first hill to a road that would have lead us to the base of Mt. Amigo. Two or three hundred yards up the road we were blocked by a tank trap in the narrow road. It was a high rounded mound of clay six foot high which would stall a tank if attempts to cross were made; so, we had to back out of the narrow road and pick a new route.
I went back to Barchetta and went to the right side of the long flat hill and started up hill. Mortar fire came in so fast it hit my tank three times in thirty minutes. My ration box on the
front of the tank was blown to bits. The bed rolls on the back of the tank were blown off and the spot light on top of the tank was blown off. I thank God it didn't come down inside the turrent. I looked everywhere to find a look-out tower that was directing mortar fire . We decided it might be a high church steeple two miles to my right front. Five rounds of H.E. shells from the tanks 76MM seemed to stop the mortar fire. From that time on, every time they started mortar fire, I shot the church house to get them to stop.


I started up the long hill again and hadn't gone over 700 yards when a anti-tank mine blew a track. I left my crew in the tank and went to the tank behind my tank since it had a transmitter. I used it to go forward. It appeared to me that a whole section, 150 yards wide was mined; so, I went very wide to the right through scrub brush and finally made it around the mine field. Here I found the Infantry of the 91st Div. stopped.


I recognized a Capt. Floyd and told him to keep his troops away from the tanks as they drew too much mortar fire. They moved to the left on a hill and proceeded forward. I continued on up the hill firing constantly at anything that looked like pill boxes or Germans dug into the hills. Meanwhile, Capt. Rodgers had come up to Barchetta and started up the trail I had gone up before. He kept going until he came to an embankment and couldn't go any further. About this time a German came up the embankment with a bazooka and destroyed his tank killing Capt. Rodgers, Sid Alien and lost Guy Anthony and Elben, as well as Private Martz as prisoners. The survivors had jumped out of the tank and run down the hill. Machine guns dusted their heels all the 150 yards they ran, but they kept going and jumped over a 15 foot embankment and made it without a scratch. He must have sprained an ankle or something as Martz went to the hospital and did not come back.



I moved forward and observed hostile fire coining from a bunker on top of the hill. We fired 6 H.E. shells into the bunker and stopped that fire at once. An Infantry Lt. and his troops were pinned down by the fire from another bunker to the left of the first one. We fired five more rounds into that one bunker eliminating that source of irritation.
It started to get dark so I took my platoon back to Barchetta for the night and came back up the next day to complete the taking of Mt. Amigo. I moved right on through the Infantry troops and went to the top of the hill to a road leading to the base of Mt. Amigo. Here was another anti-tank trap in the road, a mound of clay six feet high, to high center tanks. I stepped behind a little hill to protect my tank from fire from down Bologna way, as I was able to now see Bologna. I threw four hand grenades over the top of the little hill to stop enemy infantry from coming over the top. Then I threw a smoke grenade (white phosphorus) over the tank trap ahead. The smoke went down into a pill box and I believe ran the Germans out. We sat there for ten to fifteen minutes; then decided to go down into the bunker. With four men with me, we took a flashlight and went dcwn three 　
or four levels. There were tunnels running everywhere and I felt the Germans were watching every move we made. I told the group we were going back up and if any Germans were still there they could come up and surrender. We left. One half an hour later, 14 Germans came up and surrendered. One German did not have his hands up and an Infantry boy shot from the hip killing him. The remainder were sent back as prisoners.

The Infantry continued forward and took Mt. Amigo within the next hour. I fired ten to fifteen rounds of 76MM H.E. down the highway towards Bologna, sprayed thirty caliber machine gun fire up and down the highway, and then left the Infantry. I went back to check on Cpt. Rodgers' tank group.
I went up the hill to where his tank was parked to see what had happened. A German came up the same embankment with a bazooka leveled at my tank then lost his footing and slid back down. When he came up again, I had my carbine ready to fire, but an infantry man dropped him before I could fire. I threw four hand grenades over the embankment. The Infantry men went over the embankment and shot anyone who came out below. The Germans gave up and surrendered, thus completing the capture of Mt. Amigo.


That evening the 757th was pulled out of the line and the 752nd was inserted. We were moved two miles to the west of Highway 65 to take another stronghold. We received word that we had taken the strongest point in the 5th Army line.


After Cpt. Rodgers was killed, we had a new officer come to Co. "A" named Bruce Voran to assume duties as Company Commander. He was a big, slow talking Kansas boy, an All American basketball player for Witchita, Kansas. He surveyed the officers of Co. "A" and gradually took over command. From this point forward Voran and I took turns leading the company when going into new territory or taking twenty to thirty mile runs which we usually did at night.


On one of these runs I was leading the group or platoon, going from house to house leap frogging to keep from getting one through the tank. After four or five miles I heard Burlin Head yelling for help. He had run over a septic tank which had collapsed and could not move. The enemy we have left or passed were moving in to take them prisoners. I went back fast as possible and stopped at a house fifty to one hundred yards away to watch and see if I could see the enemy. One stepped out of a house fifty yards in front of my tank and fired a bazooka gun at us. The projectile looked like a football coming towards us. I had one hell of a time trying to decide if it would be better to stay in the tank or jump out. The projectile looked like it was too high to hit us, so I ducked down and stayed inside. The projectile hit just behind the tank.
I told the gunner to put five H.E. into the house and had the bow gurners spraying the bastards as they came out the door. After five H.E., what was left came out with hand's up but they didn't 　
come to my tank. They went to another tank that had come up from the column behind us. We took about seventeen prisoners and one officer from that area. We knocked down the house of a woman who had given us two dozen eggs and a bottle of wine earlier the morning. We felt as if the gift was done to keep us on the friendly side while the Germans stayed inside under cover. I didn't feel to bad or loose any sleep over knocking her house down. Voran came up about this time and called for our maintenance T-2 tank retrievers to come up and pull the tank out of the septic tank. I returned to the forward point to keep the Germans in full retreat.
About 1200 hours we were told to take position and hold until further orders. We held our position until the tank column arrived and ammunition and maintenance truck brought up more fuel and ammo. We held this point until dusk then received orders to continue forward.


At 1900 hours it was getting dark so we started out to take an additional fifteen to twenty miles. This was in the vicinity of Varona where Romeo and Juliet had their big fling. As we entered a small town, someone fired a iron fist at my tank but missed, hitting an old building that crumbled and caved in, partially blocking the roadway. We fired at a motorcycle that took off. I feel sure we missed him. We continued through this little town and up a gravel road which was supposed to join a main highway going northeast. Four miles further we came to the highway. I pulled out on the road and stopped. I thought I could see something but couldn't tell what it was. I had the platoon turn off the engines and I listened. I finally decided to fire an armor piercing shell at whatever it was. The armor piercing projectile went between two houses and I guess it scattered the load all over the hill. I had the tanks spray the convoy for two or three minutes then moved on. We continued moving until morning or about 0400 hours. In light of the fact that I had diarrhea, I had to find a ditch to relieve myself. This done, I was pulling up my trousers when I heard voices coming toward me. Soon I could make out three German soldiers. I jumped out in front of them and yelled "Arresto." They dropped their guns and packages and put their hands up. I marched them back to the tank and the Infantry riding my tank took them to the rear area. I irrimediately went back and packed up the goods they had dropped and found a case of sardines and a case of Limburger cheese, some of the best in the world. Within an hour it became light enough to see where we were. We discovered we were surrounded by tanks, trucks, armored vehicles, and numerous antitank guns. We had gun practice for the next mile or two, knocking out three tanks, four anti-tank guns, fifteen trucks and motor transports, and any other vehicles we saw. At 0800 hours we stopped for a while to rest up.


At 1100 hours a Bed Pan Commando, a Major from the 2nd Tank Group, came up to my tank and asked if we were the one who shot up a convoy back about ten or twelve miles. I told him we had shot up something back there but it was too dark to see what it
　
was. He told us we should all be court marshaled for what we had done. My driver Ted Rabon said, "Major, you talk like a man with a paper asshole; what do you think we're fighting the Germans for." I asked the Major to join us as we were going to take another twenty miles as soon as it became dark and I needed a bow gunner in light of the fact that my gunner had been killed. He calmed down and his guts turned to water, like all rear echelon troops. He mounted his jeep and left damn fast for safer ground.
For the next two days, Capt. Voran led the tank column and took twenty to thirty miles knocking out vehicles and firing at anything that raised its head.


As we passed by Verona on the way to Vicenza, I took the lead again. We were getting into irrigated farmland with canals of water running everywhere. My platoon, with infantry riding on the tanks, was coming into a small town when four Ack Ack/gun 35MM opened up on my tank killing one infantryman and wounding two others. My tank was hit 27 times penetrating enough to put a dent in the tube of the 76MM. Sgt. Lammers, who was following my tank, saw where the guns were and knocked out all four of them. The German soldiers made their escape. After we doctored up the wounded, we moved on through the little village onto a stretch of highway that ran straight for two miles. One mile ahead was a clump of cottonwood trees. I could see a group of Germans running toward these trees. I had the gunner shoot five rounds of 76MM H.E. into the tree tops. This explosion brings shrapnel down all over the ground beneath the trees wounding anyone nearby.


When we came to the trees there was a stack of rifles and nineteen Germans lying under the trees. They had given up, some were . bleeding, some were wounded quite bad with cuts on their heads, some legs and body wounds. I told them our medics would be up soon and help them bandage their wounds and then I continued on. We captured eleven more of the enemy within a mile by spraying the weeds along the side of the road. This brought out the white flags. I waved them on back to the rear and went on.
We were almost to Vicenza and going along a road with a water ditch on the right side with long orchard grass on both sides of the ditch. Three tanks passed this spot, the next tank a German rose up from out of the grass and fired a bazooka through the fourth tank chewing up the men inside with a spray of shrapnel. One of them had fifty-two cuts in his body. The German was killed on the spot even though he wanted to surrender. To hell with him, he had it coming.

After we had passed Vicenza, Col. Erickson came up to where we were stopped and noticed my gun barrel with the dent in it. He called the gun ordinance to come up and put a new barrel on the gun. The next hill we had to climb, the track on my tank pulled apart, results of the ack ack episode which hit the bolt holding the track end in place. This took fifteen minutes and held up
　
　
the whole tank column while we repaired the track.
From Vicenza north, it seemed like the Germans were moving out and resistance had ceased. Once in a while we encountered a road block with guns firing our way. This was mostly a delaying action by rear guards. If we delayed a day, the resistance moved on.



We had the tank destroyers working with us at different times. One afternoon a Capt. Haskell from South Carolina asked me if he could ride in my tank the next day. I told him he had to be crazy to want to ride in the lead tank of any damn convoy and to go see the medics because he must be sick. This didn't stop him. He still wanted to go. The next day he rode in the assistant driver's seat.
I saw some troops ahead in the tall clover and brush along the sides of the road and told them to start cutting the grass on both sides of the road, the bow gun on one side and the co-axial, that fires with the 76MM on the other side. When we came within a hundred yards they started waving a white flag, so I sent them back to the rear with an infantry body as guard, twelve of them all told. A self propelled gun fired two rounds at us next. We fired more than 30 caliber and one 76MM round knocking them out of action. They were firing from the basement of an old rock house. We knocked the house down but didn't take any prisoners. That night when we returned to the rear area for fuel and more ammunition, Capt. Haskell told me he was damned afraid when we first moved out in the morning but calmed down soon as we started firing the guns. He said, "I know what you meant when you said I had to be 'Nuts' to want to ride in the lead tank." He also said, "I wouldn't ride in the damned tank again for $1,000,000."

Another close experience I had, was.one day, while trying to find the company commander's tank to borrow some radio tubes to repair my transmitter, I was walking towards a clump of trees where the tank was suppose to be. At the time, we were under direct fire from the enemy. While I was crossing an open field, the Germans saw me and started firing. I could see a little furrow about six inches deep, so I flattened out in that thing and said the best damn prayer I have ever said. The Germans fired fifteen rounds of 88MM before they stopped. I played dead for fifteen minutes, then jumped up and ran the fastest fifty yards any athlete could have ever run, dove into a ditch filled with some rose bushes, and here came the 88MM shells again. This time I'm in a ditch five feet deep, so I crawl down the ditch to safety. When I returned to my tank. Jack Hay said, "Boy, you missed a hell of a show." And then he told me all about what they had seen. I told him he was "Nuts. I didn't miss the show, I starred in the damn thing and almost crapped in my pants during the show".

The next day Capt. Voran took the lead. Resistance seemed to be vanishing and we took close to fifty miles. Prisoners were surrendering in large groups of fifty to one hundred at a time. Within a week, we were getting closer to the Brenner Pass and the
　
　
High Alps of Switzerland. How I dreaded the thought of fighting our way through that death trap.
　
It seemed like God must have read our minds because as we were coming into the mountainous terrain the war ended. We continued to move forward and stopped at the little village of San Cataldo. This was a resort town of the rich Italians. They had summer homes back in the pine trees with swimming pools, ski hills with lifts to haul them up the mountains during wintertime, and all the luxuries of the rich. We pulled Co. "A" into a pasture, lined up the tanks and told the tank crew to perform maintenance, clean up the tanks, and to load up with fuel and ammunition. In the meantime, Lawrence B. Coyle and Vaughan Alien went over to a German warehouse where they stored their rations. We took two tank loads of food back to a hotel that we had taken over and unloaded it for the big party we were planning. Soon as all the tanks were cleaned up and in tip-top shape, we called the company together and told them that tomorrow would be the big day to celebrate. All guns had to be turned in before they started to pop the champagne corks. This done, the company had three bartenders who didn't drink, volunteer to tend bar. For two days, we had the drunkest bunch of soldiers in the world. They finished off the last of their booze at 2300 hours and I was glad to see some sober soldiers the next day.


About two or three weeks had gone by and Col. Erickson called me over to Battalion Headquarters and told me he had one pass for one officer to go to Lake Maggiore which was on the Swiss board and was an officer's rest area and vacation spot. I had been chosen to go and would have a jeep and driver and could be gone for two weeks. This was a vacation that everyone wanted, but everyone seemed to think I deserved it and insisted on me going. So, I left for Lake Maggiore the next day.
I went through Milan the next day and arrived at Lake Maggiore that evening. The big news we heard upon arrival was that Mussolini had been hung at 1100 hours that morning in Milan. He was being hung at the same time we were passing through that city. We didn't know about it or we could have shot a picture and wished him well in hell. I had a beautiful time at Lake Maggiore. This was a rest town for the rich and wealthy. One of the officer I met while there was a bridge player. He said that it was nothing to loose a few hundred bucks for one evening of bridge playing. I was glad that I didn't know how to play bridge. After two weeks of sightseeing and partying every night, dancing, and other recreation, I returned to the 757th campground only to be told that they had moved to Udine and Gorizia to help keep watch on Marshal Tito's forces who were causing trouble with the Italians and Yugoslav border towns.
　
　
I finally located my platoon in a little town outside of Udine. Lawrence Coyle had arranged for a room in an Italian house with two bedrooms upstairs. This was very nice. So for a month I lived with Senor Budahl, the Italian who owned the place. He had a family of two daughters and one son and a few acres of
　
　
farmland. He worked hard to eke out a living or existence. This was a very poor family, but they treated us like kings since they were worried about Tito's forces. While we were there, they stayed away because the infantry division we were attached to gave them the word. They had no entertainment in the area so Col. Erickson gave Lt. Zackman an order to locate a building in Udene and set up a club with a bar and dance floor so that we could all have a few parties and play with the Italian girls. This went on for about three weeks and we were pulled out and sent back to Turin with our tanks and equipment to get ready to go home.
　
　
We soon had all the equipment turned in and we were sent to Rome for a week or two. While in Rome, we did as the Romans do and this turned out to be fun. We went to Rome every night to the officer's club where they had a band playing dance music and invited girls in to dance with us. We wined and dined them and had a lot of fun.
　
Our next stop for Voran and what 757th officers were left was Naples and we stayed out of town by a beach called Coni Island. This place was swarming with senioritas in bathing suits, swimming and sun tanning, and flirting with Army officers. This was a busy place, but we were all getting itchy feet to get a ship for home. It seemed that this took a hell of a long time to achieve. Finally, a liberty ship came in to take a load of Army personnel back to the U.S.A. We loaded on about the fifth of October, 1945. It took about seventeen days for the bouncing, twisting, little ship to reach New Port News, Virginia. Damn near everyone on that ship got seasick. We had high winds and big waves and the bow of the ship would go down in the water two, three, or more feet and then come back up with water running all over ;the deck, washing life jackets around the decks and messing things up. Everybody was glad to get off that thing and feel the good old U.S.A. soil under their feet again. We unloaded just about 0700 hours in time for breakfast and believe it or not the best drink I ever had for 3 1/2 years was a pint of good sweet milk. Boy, did that taste good! I went back and got two more pints and swallowed all three pints. I began to look like a balloon. We stayed at New Port News, Virginia about two days to get our transportation home arranged. We finally bid all of our old 757th Tank buddies and friends goody-bye and boarded the trains for Salt Lake City, Utah.
　
The train was fairly fast moving, but it seemed like a long haul back to Utah. We eventually hit Ogden, Utah where the train was to lay over or stop for one hour. I immediately left the train and went up 25th Street to find somebody I knew. I finally ran into an old friend who bored me to death telling me how tough they had it while we were gone. I thought to myself, "you are standing here drinking beer by the bottle, B.S. around, flirting with the girls, and now trying to convince me how tough you people had it." I swallowed that stuff like Castor Oil, drank a beer, and went back to the train for Salt Lake City.
　
　
　
Within the hour, we moved out of Ogden and were going through Clearfield through Layton. I passed within one hundred yards of where I had grown up and didn't see one damn person around the old house or out in the fields all along the way through Layton.
　
We finally arrived at Fort Douglas in Salt Lake City and was told to go home and come back tomorrow to be discharged. I grabbed a cab and went downtown to my sister's home and called my wife who came into Salt Lake. We stayed in a hotel that night and sleep wasn't in the picture. We talked all night long discussing all the bad and good and everything that we could think of. At 0600 hours, we had breakfast and went back to the hotel. We called a cab and went back to Fort Douglas for my discharge. I was the first one in line and thought that I would be out of there in one hours time.
A Major called me into his office for an interview and reviewed my records. He told me I should stay in the service because with my front line experience I could be an asset to training future tank personnel. I told him I had been in the army long enough and was ready to return to civilian life. He wasted three hours of my time trying to convince me to stay in the service. It took until 1500 hours before I finally got my discharge. I called a cab, looked at Fort Douglas, and said good-bye and left the post. I was happy to return to civilian life.
　
My discharge was dated October 28, 1945. I looked back on my military life and realized that I had a lot of funny experiences. I also had a hell of a lot of close calls in those 4 1/2 years with the 757th TKBN. I often wonder why I was still alive. I wouldn't take a million dollars for my experiences with the 757th TK.BN. and I wouldn't give a red penny for any more.
Vaughan E. Alien