THE UNTOLD STORY OF THIRD BATTALION 506 PARACHUTE INFANTRY REGIMENT FROM TOCCOA TO D-DAY
Foreword by Ed Shames
Introduction by Mark Bando
Preface and Acknowledgements by Ian Gardner
1 “Hit it – 13 weeks of pain”
Creation of the 506th PIR
2 “Time, gentlemen, please”
The 506th at Ramsbury, UK
3 “Here’s to your dog tags”
Preparations for D-Day
4 “Jump into the fight”
Operation Overlord begins
5 “God, let me live ’til morning”
D-Night part 1
6 “For Christ’s sake, let’s go”
D-Night part 2
7 “A real feeling of victory”
D-Day – June 6, 1944
8 “No word from 3rd Battalion, 506th PIR”
D-Day +1
9 “A pitiful sight”
D-Day +2
10 “Don’t shoot, we’re Americans”
Regrouping and consolidation
11 “Still an American paratrooper”
POWs and counterattacks
12 “I ain’t dead yet”
The battle of Bloody Gully, June 13, 1944
13 “Things are pretty calm right now”
Operations on the Main Line of Resistance
14 “Go on, Yank, have a drink”
Return to Ramsbury
Epilogue
Bibliography
Please allow me to introduce you to the most detailed history ever written about the battles that began the drive to free the European continent of the German armies. If you are a student of history, especially World War II history, and the battle for Normandy is of interest to you, then prepare yourself for an experience very few readers have yet known.
Many books and accounts have been written about the invasion of Normandy, but never have you read one that has been more accurate about the facts and events of this period of warfare. What makes me qualified to know what happened during the battle and the involvement of the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment of the 101st Airborne Division? I was there from the birth of the 506th at Toccoa, Georgia, in early September 1942, and participated in every battle from the jump into Normandy to the capture of Berchtesgaden in May 1945.
As the operations sergeant of the 3rd Battalion 506th, it was my responsibility to construct “sand tables” for the purposes of briefing the entire battalion as to where they would land and assemble. I also had to point out each company’s battle objectives once they had regrouped on the ground into fighting units.
Many times since the war years, I have walked over the grounds and hedgerows of Normandy, and have been privileged on several such occasions to do so with the authors of this book.
My dear friends Ian Gardner and Roger Day have meticulously researched Ramsbury and the battle for Normandy to such a fine degree that no other historical record can be anywhere near the accuracy of truth and events. As part of this historical masterpiece, there are remarkably detailed maps and charts that allow the reader to retrace the steps and movements of the paratroopers as they fought to secure Normandy and its place in history. When I read their manuscript I felt that I was again in my parachute and beginning my odyssey of World War II that started with my touchdown in Carentan, Normandy, France. This book is truly a work of historical art.
Edward D. Shames – June 2008
Virginia Beach, Virginia, USA
Six years ago, an English history fan named Ian Gardner read my first book, The 101st Airborne at Normandy. Ian himself is a former paratrooper in the post-World War II British Army and for some reason he became fixated on the subject matter of Chapter 22 of my book, which deals with 3rd Battalion 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, and their D-Day objective, the wooden bridges near Brévands, France.
This launched Ian on a lengthy research project, driven by an obsession to learn as much detail as possible about this event, by contacting every available survivor of 3rd Bn and hearing their testimony. Ian also searched out obscure, detailed maps, studied vintage aerial photos, walked the ground many times, and did a good deal of detective work. What you will read between these covers is the result of Ian’s research, the fulfillment of an original and valuable research project.
Ian’s colleague Roger Day, a consummate historian of the wartime history of Ramsbury, England (and the author of a book and website on that subject), has been on board with Ian since the start of his 3rd Bn 506th research. For five years, they walked the ground together, puzzled over new evidence, and collected facts and stories, and Roger’s writing skills made presentation of the final manuscript possible. So this book is very much a joint product of their teamwork.
This is not just another anthology of World War II stories, resulting from the labors of many other historians and disguised as an original presentation. As an avid reader (as well as producer) of World War II books, I enthusiastically endorse this book as a product of original research and an important contribution to the literature. In its pages, many new stories and facts will be revealed. Also, any work encompassing many years of investigation, fueled by obsession and produced as a labor of love, has got to be worthwhile.
Two bridges, installed by the occupying German forces in Normandy, crossed the Douve river east of Carentan, France, about 1 mile apart. These became a significant objective in Allied D-Day planning. The Germans had installed these bridges in 1943–44 for tactical purposes; they allowed the German defenders (in the event of Allied landings) to rush replacements to defend the strip of east Cotentin coastline that Allied planners had designated as “Utah Beach.” The mission of LtCol Robert L. Wolverton’s battalion was simply to seize control of these bridges as soon as possible after parachuting in to Drop Zone D, and prevent German reinforcements from crossing toward the coast by any means necessary. The series of events that resulted when this plan was put into action is the subject of this work.
The assigned battalion suffered grievous losses on the drop zone, and only a small percentage of it found their way to the objective. The decimation of Wolverton’s battalion (both he and his executive officer were among those killed) is described in this book in terms of personal human loss. Despite their casualties, the small percentage of 3rd Bn 506th paratroopers who survived were able to accomplish their mission of controlling the bridges and preventing the enemy from crossing them in order to reinforce the Nazi coastal defenders.
After the war moved on toward Germany, the French required the removal of the bridges, because their presence prevented seaborne commerce from entering the small port in Carentan from the Channel. So after Allied planes bombed the center out of each bridge, the French continued the removal job, doing it so thoroughly that only small remnants of the original bridge footings remain. By walking the north bank of the Douve river for miles in 2003, Ian Gardner and Roger Day located those crucial pieces of evidence, which had eluded me and other researchers for half a century. The significance of the physical evidence they discovered was important, proving that previous published references to the placement of the foot and road bridge respectively were in error. In my previous books they are transposed, because I followed the information marked on the map of the 506th regimental S3 officer, Maj H.W. Hannah, which showed the road bridge closer to the Channel, when in fact it was the one nearer to Carentan. One reason for this is that Maj Hannah himself never physically visited the 3rd Bn objective, nor did he stand in view of either bridge during the Normandy campaign. Here is an example of ostensibly reliable information proving to be inaccurate.
I had learned while researching the La Barquette lock battle that the devil is indeed in the detail. The deeper one delves into any historical event, the more questions arise and the more contradictory evidence surfaces. No two participants in any battle seem to agree on all of the details that transpired. While researching this work, Ian and Roger have also discovered that certain disputed details will never be fully resolved.
We should regard this work as an amazingly detailed glimpse into the tragic experiences of this heroic parachute battalion. I am pleased that reading my earlier work served as the impetus that launched Ian on his mission to discover so much more about the saga of LtCol Wolverton’s 3rd Bn 506th and the wooden bridges of D-Day. Had he not embarked on his investigation when he did, the mortality rate of our World War II veterans would have ensured that much of this information would have been lost forever. This slice of history, collected and preserved by Ian Gardner and Roger Day, can now be added to the complex mosaic that was the battle of Normandy.
The chaos and complexity of those times is still being gradually sorted out, but, sadly, the time is rapidly approaching when we will be unable to consult World War II survivors for this kind of firsthand testimony. I applaud both Ian and Roger for their dedicated achievement, and I would urge all who are students of the Normandy invasion to read this important historical compendium of fact and personal experience.
Mark Bando – June 2008
Detroit, Michigan, USA
As a former British paratrooper, I have always been interested in the history of airborne warfare. In early 2001, whilst visiting my local bookshop, I picked up a publication entitled 101st Airborne at Normandy by Mark A. Bando. This seminal work was the start of a journey that changed my life forever. I have no idea what made me purchase the book, and never in my wildest dreams ever imagined that its respected author would become a personal friend.
I read it again and again until the pages were ragged and worn, but kept coming back to Chapter 22, “The Wooden Bridges at Brévands.” Something in Mark’s writing captured my imagination. I wanted to learn more, and began reading other books about the 101st Airborne Division. I soon discovered that little had been written about the actions of 3rd Bn, 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, the unit responsible for the capture of the bridges. It became apparent that their entire Normandy campaign had been largely overlooked, due to a complete lack of historical comprehension and battlefield appreciation. It seemed almost inconceivable that previous historians had failed to grasp the significance of, and recognize, the accomplishments of these incredibly brave men – they were truly D-Day’s forgotten battalion.
In March 2002 I went to Normandy for the first time, accompanied by my wife Karen. We visited many sites described in Mark’s book but failed to locate the remains of the two bridges at Brévands, which merely served to fuel my growing interest. After returning home, two important things happened – meeting Roger Day and finding out about the World War II Aerial Photographic Archive at Keele University in Staffordshire.
I became aware of Roger after he appeared in an “After The Battle” publication sporting a helmet worn in Normandy by Sgt “Gil” Morton, a member of 3rd Bn, who had been billeted with Roger’s relatives in Ramsbury. On a hunch I went to the village and eventually found his brother, who kindly passed on my details. Roger rang me a few days later and told me that he had written a wartime history of the village called Ramsbury at War, and that it was a refreshing change to talk about something other than “Band of Brothers.” The BBC had recently broadcast the TV miniseries, and he had been inundated with emails and telephone calls from people trying to tap into his knowledge of the 506th in England. As a result of the global success of “Band of Brothers,” E Co had taken the lion’s share of the limelight, and I wanted to redress the balance and bring more of the 506th story, notably 3rd Bn’s contribution, to the public’s attention.
The second defining moment was the day I visited the Air Photo Archive at Keele University. There, to my amazement, I discovered that all previous 101st Airborne Division histories had recorded the locations of the foot and road bridges at Brévands the wrong way round! The photographic evidence was compelling, and I knew that I was on to something – shortly afterwards I approached Roger with the idea of writing this book.
Our research took four years to complete, and during that time we forged many good friendships with people in the United States, France and Britain. In April 2003 Roger, his son Christopher, Joe Beyrle II (son of a 3rd Bn veteran), and I visited Normandy. Our initial studies centered on the fields surrounding the village of St-Côme-du-Mont, and this brought us into contact with Michel Léonard. Michel was interested in what we were doing and invited us into his home, where he and his wife Martine plied us with Calvados. We learnt that his family were residents of St-Côme-du-Mont at the time of the invasion, and it soon became obvious that Michel was in a great position to help us with our research. However, there was one big problem – the language barrier!
Several months later I attended a family party at which my English-born cousin Susan Rochat was present, and fate played its hand. Susy has lived in Switzerland with her Swiss-born husband and two children for nearly 30 years and speaks fluent French. After some tough negotiating she agreed to act as our translator, and so the “French connection” was established.
This section has been one of the hardest parts of the book to compile, as we were anxious not to forget any of our many contributors. If anyone’s name has been overlooked we hope that they will accept our sincere apologies.
Individual thanks are extended by country to the following. United States of America: Miles Allen (G Co), Alex Andros (H Co), Fred Bahlau (H Co), Manny Barrios (I Co), Joe Beyrle (I Co), Ralph Bennett (H Co), Kathy Bennett, Dave Berry, Lurie Berteau (G Co), Dr James Bigley, Judith Grant-Botter, Tom Bucher (HQ Co Machine Gun Ptn), Sharon Bunker, Roy Burger (HQ Co 81mm Mortar Ptn), Ray Calandrella (Co HQ), Mario “Hank” DiCarlo (H Co), Joe Doughty (G Co), Bob Dunning (HQ Co 81mm Mortar Ptn), George Dwyer (HQ Co Machine Gun Ptn), Bette Dziepak, Teddy Dziepak (I Co), Arthur “Bud” Estes (H Co), Bill Galbraith (I Co), Johnny Gibson (Medical Detachment), Lenny Goodgal (I Co), George Grant Jr, Clark Heggeness (H Co), Randy Hils, Ben Hiner (Co HQ S1),Ken Johnson (H Co),Tom Kennedy (G Co), John Klein, Laurie Kotsch, John Kutz (C Co 326th Airborne Engineers), Alfred Lowe (207th Combat Engineers), Walt Lukasavage (I Co), Mary Madden, Pete Madden (H Co), Chris Malterre, Jimmy Martin (G Co), Clair Mathiason (G Co), Sid McCallum (I Co), Jim McCann (H Co), Pat McCann, George McMillan (I Co), John Merkt, Tim Moore, David Morgan (I Co), Neil and Dai Morgan,“Gil” Morton (HQ Co 81mm Mortar Ptn), Mary Lou Neally, Don Orcutt (440th Troop Carrier Group), Marykay Perez, John Reeder (Regimental Communications Ptn), Bobbie Rommel (HQ Co Machine Gun Ptn), George Rosie (HQ Co 81mm Mortar Ptn), Don Ross (Co HQ S3), Barney Ryan (assistant 3rd Bn surgeon), Harold Stedman (I Co), Jay Stone (321st Glider Field Artillery), Bob Webb (Co HQ S4 Supply), Bob Webb Jr, Lou Vecchi (H Co), and Don Zahn (H Co). France: Msr and Mme Brohier, Charles Carel, André Descamps, Charles Destrès, Michel De Trez, Thérèse Dieudonné, Msr and Mme Drouin, Msr Dumoncel, Eugéne Enot, Thierry Ferey, Maurice de Folleville, Philippe Frigot, William Hébert, Nicole Laurence, Amand Laurent, Léon Lehay, Jean Pierre Lemesnil, Michel and Martine Léonard, Louis Letourneur, Paulette Menilgrente, Jean Mignon, Msr and Mme Poisson, Msr La Rue, Jean Savary and Henry Villand. United Kingdom: Rosemary Connor, Elsie Douglas, Robert Dudley (our literary agent), Patricia Howard, John Mundy, Doreen Ramsden, Monica Tovey, and Graeme Trim.
Sadly, during the course of our research ten of our veteran contributors have passed away: Joe Beyrle, Ray Calandrella, Clark Heggeness, Ben Hiner, Jim McCann, Dave Morgan, Gil Morton, George Rosie, Don Ross, and Barney Ryan – God bless you boys. We hope that in some small way our book helps keep alive your memories for future historians who follow in our tracks.
We would also like to thank News International Syndication, London for permission to use Ward Smith’s article “I Saw Them Jump to Destiny,” and John Shank, editor of Military Magazine, for permission to use quotations from Charles Santarsiero’s article “My Most Memorable Meeting with General McAuliffe” – December 1985.
Particular mention must be made of the assistance given by Mark Bando: for his encouragement, for his unrivalled knowledge of the 101st Airborne Division and for writing the introduction to this book, plus Susy Rochat, our French translator, and Joe Beyrle II, who, in addition to being the son of a veteran, read the manuscript several times and made many important changes and recommendations.
Finally, very special thanks are extended to Eddy Shames (Co HQ S3 operations sergeant), who helped us above and beyond the call of duty and who has become a sort of unofficial “public relations” officer for our work.
To conclude, we ask any reader who may have additional contributions, no matter how small, to write to us so that the information may be included in any further editions of this book.
The 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment was activated at Camp Toombs (later renamed Camp Toccoa), Georgia, on July 20, 1942, and was commanded by Col Robert Frederick Sink. Sink was born in 1905 at Lexington, North Carolina. His interest in the military began as a teenager after spending hours listening to relatives and friends recount their World War I experiences. In 1923 Sink entered the military academy at West Point and graduated four years later. He served in the infantry until 1940, when he heard about the formation of a parachute test platoon. The platoon made its first jump on August 14, and in the middle of September the War Department authorized the establishment of the 501st Parachute Battalion. Sink immediately volunteered, and served as a captain under Maj William M. Miley. He was then given the task of activating the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment (PIR) and became its first commanding officer, a position he held throughout the entire war.
It was rumored at the time that senior members of the War Department’s civil service had the unprecedented idea of creating a “super unit” recruited directly from the civilian population. The civil servants did not believe that the regular army could supply the quality of soldier required to fill the ranks of such a regiment. It was correctly assumed that the principle of civilian volunteers would raise the country’s morale after the recent Japanese humiliations like the attack on Pearl Harbor and the invasion of the Philippines. The 506th became the first such organization, and with great energy and determination Col Sink put into effect one of the most rigorous training schedules any World War II American military unit had been required to undergo.
The regiment was divided into three battalions. The 1st was commanded by LtCol William Turner, the 2nd by LtCol Robert Strayer, and the 3rd, whose wartime exploits are the subject of this book, by LtCol Robert Wolverton. Wolverton was universally loved by his men because he put them first, even before any officer in the battalion. He was born on October 5, 1914, came from Elkins, West Virginia, and like Sink was West Point trained. He graduated from Command and General Staff School, Ft Leavenworth, Kansas, in 1942, shortly before taking command of the 3rd Bn.
Each battalion had four companies, and the 3rd’s were designated HQ, G, H, and I. The regiment spent its first few months at Camp Toccoa, where 7,000 raw recruits were subjected to the grueling training regime. This was known as A Stage; it lasted 13 weeks and was designed to eliminate all but the very strongest. By the final week nearly 5,000 men had fallen by the wayside.
Cpl Martin “Marty” Clark (HQ Co) recalls his enlistment as a paratrooper:
Shortly after arriving at an army reception center, a young officer spoke to me and about 400 other recently sworn-in soldiers about the wonders of joining the paratroopers. I was the only one who volunteered!
After arriving at Camp Toccoa we were put into W Co. [This was a motley array of tents where all new recruits were sent prior to their initial physical examination. It was also where those who had failed the tests were kept prior to leaving the paratroopers for non-airborne units.] Here we were subjected to extremely rigid examinations. A history of broken bones was enough to cause exclusion, as was color-blindness. Mental requirements were also considered very important, and to pass one had to have a qualifying score equal to, or surpassing, those for officer training school. We were all very young but the youngest I knew was Charlie Price from Philadelphia, who was just 15!
Our time in W Co was blessedly short and was followed by selection to the line companies. This was a rather haphazard process. Those with prior military training, including high school Reserve Officer Training Corps and even the boy scouts, went to the 1st Bn. After the 1st Bn had all the people it needed, the 2nd Bn filled its ranks. Those of us that arrived at Toccoa in September made up 3rd Bn.
Ben Hiner (HQ Co) was 21 years old when he arrived at Toccoa. He came from Morgantown, West Virginia, had just finished a two-year college course, and was newly married. His first day at the camp was very memorable:
I was in the orderly room when 1st Sgt James “J. P.” Shirley said that the “old man” wanted to see me. I asked who the “old man” was. He told me it was Col Sink and I should get straight up to his office! When I arrived he ordered me in and said,“Hiner, can you shine brass?” I replied, slightly bemused, “Yes, sir.” He then proceeded to take off his belt; for a moment I thought he was going to give me a whipping, but he simply removed the buckle and said,“Hiner, go clean it up and make it look good, son!”
When Hiner got back to his tent he told Shirley what had happened. Shirley found some brass cleaner and showed him how to polish the buckle the “army way.” When they had finished it was gleaming like a new pin. Shirley wrapped it in tissue paper and jokingly told him to return it before the colonel’s trousers fell down! Sink was very impressed with the results and sent Hiner on his way. Later the same day Hiner was called back to Sink’s office: “I stood to attention and the colonel said, ‘Soldier, we do not encourage married recruits in this unit.’ Suddenly the penny began to drop, and I realized it was make or break time for me.” Fortunately, Sink had been reading Hiner’s file and noticed that he had some previous military experience – this, together with the way he conducted himself over the buckle, kept him in the regiment.
However, there appears to have been a degree of inconsistency interpreting this strange ruling, as Pvt Teddy Dziepak (I Co) recollects that “Chaplain John Maloney married Bette and myself in the recreation hall on Wednesday October 28, 1942. 1 Ptn paraded with rifles and crossed bayonets, and Col Sink lent us his car and driver. We were driven into town and stayed at the Hotel Albemarle on a three-day pass.”
Near the camp at Toccoa stands a mountain known by its American Indian name of “Currahee,” which means “Stand Alone.” Pvt Ed Shames (I Co) remembers his first encounter with the mighty rock: “During the first few days we were told by our instructors that our fitness was going to be tested on the mountain, and as long as we didn’t stop we would be OK – it was quite a wake-up call and a lot of recruits washed out.” Several times a week the men would run the 7-mile round trip up and down the mountain, and “Currahee” became the battle cry of the 506th. Marty Clark recalls: “It was about 3½ miles up and the same down. On several occasions, following regimental reviews, we would run up and down that stupid mountain and past the reviewing stand again. I can still hear Capt ‘Shifty’ Feiler (regimental dentist) yelling, ‘who’s setting the pace?’ He was in the rear with the medics of course!” Toward the end of A Stage the companies were running the mountain in under 50 minutes.
All Non-Commissioned Officers (NCOs) down to squad leader level came from the regular army and formed the initial nucleus of the regiment, known as the cadre. Pvt Hank DiCarlo (H Co) recalls:
The cadre NCOs trained us in the arts and sciences of all aspects of military life, including close-order drill, physical training, weapons instruction, and field maneuvers. Most of them were airborne volunteers and remained with us when we moved on to our airborne training phase. However, a few stayed behind as cadre for the next intake. Our 1 Ptn commander was a certain Lt Ulm, who, even to my untutored rookie perception, was a bastard in spades. As supercilious and arrogant as any Nazi officer I ever met, he would have been a big hit in Hitler’s army! We were thrilled when he washed out and Lt Mehosky replaced him.
At the camp was an obstacle course that included a 20ft-high jump tower. One day Ben Hiner was waiting his turn to drop. Each man lowered himself from the platform and hung from a bar waiting for the command “Go.” Hiner remembers:
It was like a production line. As soon as the guy in front hit the deck the next guy followed. Providing he rolled forward everything was fine. However when I let go and began to drop the man in front fell backward. I desperately tried to avoid him and landed very badly, smashing my feet against the toughened leather toecaps of my boots.
The directing staff on the ground saw what happened and ordered me to sort myself out. After removing my boots I could see that my toes were swollen, bleeding, and in very bad shape. I put my boots back on and finished the assault course with blood seeping through the seams. Lt Meehan pulled me to one side to take a look. One of the nails had come away and I pulled another off with my fingers. Meehan nearly passed out and immediately ordered me to the Medical Center. The big march to Fort Benning was only a week or so away, and I knew that if the medics saw my feet I would not be allowed to take part and would have to leave the regiment. I went to the latrine, washed all the blood off, and cleaned them up as best I could. My feet were so swollen that I decided the best thing to do was to go to the clothing store and exchange my boots for a larger pair. I was walking toward the store, with boots in hand, when Sink passed by in his car. He stopped, got out, and asked me what the hell was going on? Somehow I managed to throw him off the scent and carried on to the clothing store. There they exchanged my boots for a much larger pair, and these got me through the march to Benning!
Another of the new recruits was Don Ross, who eventually became the battalion’s bugler. Don recalls:
Somebody in our barrack had a trumpet and was trying to blow bugle calls on it. I grabbed it and said that I could blow it better than anyone. The guys in the barrack wanted to hear what I could do and Ed Shames told me to blow Reveille, which I did together with a couple of other tunes. It was about midnight, and Shames dared me to step outside and blow taps. People started falling in as if for a morning formation. We ran back inside laughing and watched as they all looked around, wondering what was going on.
After this Don sharpened up his playing skills and got into the habit of following the camp’s public address system announcements with blasts of mail, chow, and officers’ calls. Because Wolverton was billeted some distance from the enlisted men’s quarters, he was totally unaware of what was going on.
Some months later, whilst at Camp Mackall, Col Wolverton decided that the battalion needed a bugler. Ed Shames was now a sergeant on Wolverton’s staff and told the colonel, “We’ve got one, sir, Pvt Ross from I Co.” Wolverton sent a runner to fetch Ross. Don remembers:
I was told to report to ColWolverton at the battalion command post in full uniform; I thought I had done something wrong. I knocked on the office door and was told to enter. On the desk was a brand new bugle and the colonel wanted to hear me blow it. I nervously asked what he wanted me to play and he named a few calls. Suddenly someone spotted Col Sink heading in our direction and I was hidden, along with the bugle, in a locker. Wolverton was worried that if Sink found out what was going on he would transfer me over to Regimental HQ. Sink came in and looked around, said a few words and left the office. Shortly after this I moved to HQ Co.
Toward the end of November the battalion marched to the Clemson Rifle Ranges, 48 miles from Toccoa. Here their marksmanship skills were honed to perfection. The visit culminated in a Skill at Arms competition, and a three-day pass was on offer to the highest scorer. On the very first day Pvt Ben Hiner, using a .30cal machine gun, hit 98 out of 100, which was HQ Co’s top score. On the second day Col Sink watched as a nervous Hiner hit the bull’s eye 99 times and became the battalion’s best shot! Sink walked away smiling and Ben got his three-day pass. Hiner had been using guns since childhood, which explained his dexterity in this discipline. He later qualified for the Expert Infantryman’s Badge by training on several additional weapons (60mm mortar, M1 rifle, carbine and pistol).
After the competition Hiner, together with the rest of the battalion, marched back to Toccoa. Waiting to greet him was his wife, Ruth Anna, and mother-in-law. The pair had driven to Toccoa to be with Ben for Thanksgiving and had booked themselves into a local hotel for the weekend. It was a wonderful surprise for Hiner, and came as a welcome break from all the training.
In December, following basic training, the regiment moved to Fort Benning, Georgia, and the journey was turned into an endurance test that became 3rd Bn’s crowning glory. Marty Clark describes the move:
The 1st Bn went by train from Toccoa to Benning. The 2nd took three days to walk to Atlanta, a distance of 102 miles, and then traveled the rest of the way by train. The 3rd took the train to Atlanta before marching through the streets of the city to Fort McPherson. Then, for the next four days, we did nothing but put one foot in front of the other, setting a marching record of 136 miles! The worst part of the journey for me was from the gates of Fort Benning out to the “frying pan” area – my knees almost locked. During the march Col Wolverton’s feet became very swollen and he couldn’t wear his boots. He marched for part of the time wearing just three or four pairs of socks! After the trek we were offered a weekend pass.
The officers and NCOs had to complete the entire distance or risk being thrown out of the unit. The minimum requirement for enlisted men was 100 miles – everyone made it. This amazing achievement smashed the previous record held by the Imperial Japanese Army, and the propaganda value in raising the profile of the US airborne soldier was incalculable.
During their time at Benning the students were always expected to run between assignments. This became known as the “Fort Benning shuffle.” “The instructors couldn’t match our running fitness,” recalls Hiner, “but soon discovered we were weaker in other areas like push ups and pull ups. It was the push ups that really caught us out, and somebody calculated that on one training day alone the machine-gun platoon completed over three thousand!”
All jump training took place at Benning. Here the soldiers learnt how to pack parachutes, and then made several descents from specially built 250ft-high training towers before graduating to real aircraft. Ed Shames has vivid memories of this period:
I Co was the last class (no. 49) from the regiment to go through jump school. Because of our strenuous training at Toccoa we were in superb physical condition and were showing our instructors up – they didn’t like that! For the first two qualifying jumps we packed our own parachutes, but for the following three jumps they were packed by teams drawn from our ranks, under the supervision of qualified riggers. All five jumps were made without carrying additional equipment.
After five successful drops each man was fully qualified, and to mark this achievement the men were awarded small silver jump wings. This was a very proud moment because they could now truly call themselves paratroopers. Ed continues: “After two weeks’ leave we went to the Alabama frying pan area, where we made two equipment descents and our very first night drop.”
Near the camp is an airstrip known as Lawson Field where most of the drops took place. Sgt Ralph Bennett (H Co) was worried about the prospect of jumping at night:
The Chattahoochie River ran close to the perimeter road at Lawson Field and would have been bad news for anybody landing in it as it was very fast-flowing. During one night drop one of our platoon leaders mistook the perimeter road for the river. As he descended he threw away his reserve ‘chute, unbuckled his harness, crossed his arms and let go when he thought he was about to hit the water. He fell some 25ft on to the road and broke both hips! Each day the battalion was expected to run 9 miles around the same perimeter road and I remember 1st Lt Christianson pushing the platoon to its limits. I was quite small and in order to keep up had to run more quickly than the rest. The lieutenant knew I was struggling and realized that it would look bad if I dropped out in front of my men. When he thought that I’d reached my limit he ordered me to drop back and pick up stragglers – there weren’t any of course! He didn’t have to help me in this way but I am pleased he did. I don’t think I would have been allowed to stay in the battalion on just my skills alone.
Whilst at Benning, and without Col Sink’s knowledge, a notice was distributed inviting those who felt they might be officer material to attend a recruitment lecture. About 50 men from the battalion turned up to hear what was on offer, and it soon became clear that successful applicants would have to leave the 506th. Ed Shames was in attendance and recalls, “Sink came in and broke up the meeting. He was furious and told us he didn’t want the team split up in this way. He said that maybe after we’d got into combat there might be opportunities for promotion, but not here and not now!”
In March 1943 the regiment moved to Camp Mackall, North Carolina. The camp was named after the first US paratrooper killed in action during World War II, Pfc John T. Mackall, who died in North Africa whilst serving with the 82nd Airborne Division. Camp Mackall was the complete opposite of both Toccoa and Benning, being a purpose-built site complete with every modern convenience including a hospital, several cinemas, and an airfield. Here training became far more realistic, and the men were taught to jump with all manner of equipment, including bazookas, light machine guns, and 60mm mortars.
It was at this time that Col Wolverton noticed Ed Shames’s map reading skills, as Ed recalls:
One Friday afternoon, during the battalion’s first exercise at Mackall, I was in the field with my machine-gun team. Col Wolverton was wandering around looking at the positions. He came over to me with Capt Shettle and 3 Ptn leader Fred Anderson, and started talking to the platoon. It was at this moment that he noticed my map overlays. “Can you read a map?” he asked. I replied, “Yes, sir, it’s one of my hobbies.” Wolverton continued, “I need men like you. How would you like to be my operations sergeant? See me on Monday morning in my office.” Afterwards I said to Shettle, “Did he really mean that, sir?” Shettle replied, “If he told you to go, then go.”
I walked into Wolverton’s office on that Monday morning but couldn’t get past 1st Sgt Shirley (the most senior NCO in HQ Co), who didn’t realize that my request to see the colonel was serious. 1st Lt Alex Bobuck, the battalion adjutant, came out of another office and started giving me a hard time. Eventually Wolverton heard what was going on and called out “Bobuck, my office now.” After everything was cleared up I was immediately promoted to sergeant, and a couple of days later was out of I Co and on Col Wolverton’s staff.
If the men were not on training exercises, they were normally given other duties to occupy their time. Ben Hiner recounts:
On one occasion I was helping Sgt Bob Webb. Capt McKnight, our new company commander, had ordered him to work a weekend as duty sergeant. Nothing much was going on, and Webb asked me to keep an eye out while he got his head down. For some reason McKnight was looking for Webb, who was by now fast asleep on the floor under one of the bunks. McKnight had been all over the camp raising hell trying to locate him, and ended up near where Bob was sleeping. I had almost convinced him that Bob was not there when he heard snoring coming from under one of the beds. He stormed over and proceeded to kick Webb furiously until he crawled out and stood to attention. Capt McKnight really went to town on him and he was lucky to keep his stripes.
Whilst at Mackall, the 506th started producing a magazine called Para-dice. It was edited and published by the Special Service Office and cost 25 cents. Men from all ranks of the regiment were encouraged to contribute articles, and each monthly issue carried a couple of pages of jokes, which were often a reflection of the men’s feelings about army life. For example: “A small boy was leading a donkey past an army camp. A couple of soldiers wanted to have a laugh at the lad’s expense. ‘Why are you holding your brother so tightly?’ they asked. ‘So he won’t join the army,’ the youngster replied without blinking an eye.”
On April 7, 1943, the battalion made a jump near the small town of Hoffman, North Carolina. The weather was bad and crosswinds were gusting up to 30 knots, way beyond acceptable safety tolerances, but the jump still went ahead. Soldiers from H Co and Machine-Gun Ptn were the worst affected and men were blown all over the place. Cpl Tom Bucher remembers the incident where Pvt Earl McGrath struck the chimney of a building in the town:
Earl had lied about his age and was only 16½ when we jumped at Hoffman – he took the chimney clean off just like a scythe would cut through wheat. When I got to him he was in a great deal of pain and was trying to remove his boot. As I cut the boot off his ankle popped just like a balloon being inflated. Although nothing was broken the only cure was rest, so they sent him home with orders to report to the nearest army hospital for periodic examinations. We pleaded with him to take this opportunity to contact Regimental HQ and tell them the truth about his age, but he ignored us and returned to duty several weeks later.
The owner of the property damaged by McGrath eventually received compensation from the US government, and many questions were asked as to why the men had been put at so much risk. McGrath subsequently became the butt of many jokes including a spoof entry in the May issue of Para-dice! Fortunately, although there were many casualties, nobody was killed. Pfc Teddy Dziepak from I Co also has good reason to remember the drop: “After my ’chute opened Pvt Lonnie Gavrock, who had a split panel in his ’chute, came through my risers. I was certain we would break something on landing but amazingly we both walked away unharmed.”
Toward the end of May, the 3rd Bn, together with the rest of the regiment, moved westward to Camp Breckenridge to take part in what became known as the Tennessee maneuvers. The exercises started on June 5, lasted for nearly six weeks, and were the nearest thing to combat the battalion had thus far experienced. On June 10 the 506th PIR officially became part of the 101st Airborne Division.
The entire division took part in the maneuvers, and Ben Hiner spent much of his time umpiring for Capt Cole with the 502nd PIR:
We were jumping about twice a week, and on one flight I remember standing behind Cole in the aircraft’s door looking at the terrain below. The area was known as Tennessee hill country, but some of those “hills” seemed like small rocky mountains to me. The drop went in with little thought to the rising and falling ground that was strewn with boulders. Tanks had driven onto the DZ [drop zone] by mistake, and it was a wonder nobody was killed. However, there were several serious injuries. One guy’s ’chute only just opened as he landed; he broke both legs and was stranded on top of a rocky outcrop. A medic eventually found and looked after him for almost a week until the pair were brought down. The medic was awarded the Soldier’s Medal for his actions.
Teddy Dziepak remembers dropping in the same area: “We made the lowest jump ever, at 380ft. By the time the last man exited he was close to the mountainside; one oscillation of the ’chute and you were on the ground.”
During this time the weather was extremely hot, and the men learnt the importance of water conservation – some the hard way! A number of men became so thirsty that they drank from stagnant water holes and streams, forcing Col Sink to declare these places out of bounds on health grounds.
By July 1943 it was becoming clear that the regiment was desperately short of parachute-trained personnel in the 81mm mortar, machine-gun, and communication sections. Consequently men already trained in these areas were brought in from other airborne units, which did not go down too well with the original Toccoa men. Surnames starting with either R or S made up the bulk of this intake, including privates George Rosie, Francis Ronzani, Henry Ritter, and John Robbins. Another new arrival was Pvt Bobbie Rommel, who recalls his first day with the machine-gun platoon: “I was fresh out of jump training, so they put me in the ring to box with Sgt Garland ‘Tex’ Collier. I was good with my left jab and kept him at bay by constantly picking away at his nose.‘Tex’ was considered the best in the platoon, and after that fight I had no more problems about not being trained at Toccoa!”
With the maneuvers over, the entire 506th Regiment traveled by train to Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Whilst at the camp the men were issued new weapons and uniforms, and many realized that the next move would be shipment overseas. The only question on most people’s minds was the destination – would it be the Far East, North Africa, or Europe?
At about this time Ben Hiner was working in supply, when the battalion received a consignment of brand new M1A1 folding stock carbines:
When they were checked into the armory two rifles were unaccounted for. Obviously a bit of a fuss was made about the missing weapons but it soon blew over. I don’t think Col Wolverton ever knew about it as Capt McKnight kept it all very quiet. Later, I found out why. It was McKnight who’d taken them! A short while later he approached me with a proposition, and offered me one of the carbines in return for my help. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! I reluctantly agreed, as he would have made my life hell if I had refused to do it. As officer in command of HQ Co he could not run the risk of being caught with a stolen weapon, and asked me to deliver one to his home in Columbus, Georgia, when I next had a weekend pass. The task went without a hitch, and shortly afterwards I did the same thing with my carbine. When I came home after the war I found that my parents had “sold” it to their next-door neighbor, who never paid them and had moved away by the time I got home.
On Saturday August 28, the 3rd Bn left Fort Bragg by train for Camp Shanks, arriving almost 24 hours later. The camp was about 30 miles up the Hudson River from New York City, and was their final staging area before embarkation. George Rosie (HQ Co) remembers, “There was no leave, lots of inspections, inoculations, and repacking. It was a frustrating time and we drank day and night.” Seven days later the battalion moved out to New York harbor where it boarded His Majesty’s Troop Ship (HMTS) Samaria. The Samaria was an old British Cunard liner built to carry 1,000 passengers and was now crammed with over 5,000 US troops, most leaving America for the very first time. On board, in addition to the 506th PIR, was the 327th Glider Infantry Regiment (GIR), 81st Airborne Anti-Aircraft Bn (AAA), 321st Glider Field Artillery (GFA) Battalion, and the 326th Airborne Medical Company.
On September 5 the Samaria set sail, and as it left New York the men lined the ship’s rails. They waved to the people on the passing ferries and watched the Statue of Liberty slip by. For some, this was the last time they would see America’s shores. George Rosie remembers the crossing to England:
Troopships are the pits. You’re jammed in like sardines, sleeping in triple bunks with your clothes on, getting only two meals a day, if you could call them meals! We were allowed fresh water twice daily between 7.15 and 8am, and from 6.45 to 7.30pm, which we used for shaving. Showers were salt water – better than nothing, but not much! On clear days we’d walk around the deck checking out the convoy, which was very interesting. To the right and back of us was a battleship that gave you a feeling of security. There were small cruisers scooting around between the ships checking for German U-Boats.
Sgt George “Doc” Dwyer (HQ Co) recalls one very alarming incident:
There were 115 ships in the convoy, and they were all zigzagging to confuse the German submarines. One foggy day a few of us were standing at the stern when another ship came out of the fog heading right toward us. Bells started clanging, whistles blowing, sirens screaming, men yelling, and it looked from where we were standing that there was no way a collision could be avoided, but somehow it was. The other ship only missed us by about 40ft, and we all thought that we were going to start our war experiences by being dumped in the north Atlantic!
Pvt James McCann (H Co) has vivid memories of his Atlantic crossing: “The ship was overcrowded so we only got to sleep below deck every third day. I remember being seasick for the whole ten days it took to cross the Atlantic. At 6am the deckhands would yell out ‘Out the way, Yanks, or we’ll wash you overboard.’They were hosing down the decks because so many of us had been sick.”
One of those who suffered was Pvt Elmer Goff (HQ Co), according to Ben Hiner: “He was so seasick on the journey over that he spent most of the voyage in a lifeboat barely able to move. He was always last man on parade during the crossing.” On September 15, the Samaria docked at Liverpool, and as soon as the men had disembarked 1st Sgt Shirley made a roll call. “Once again Goff was not present,” remembers Hiner. “Shirley called his name again and a little voice shouted from the direction of the gangway ‘Present, First Sergeant.’ He’d overslept and was running down the jetty burdened with his kit bag and guitar!”
As soon as they arrived at Liverpool’s railway station, the soldiers boarded trains that carried them south through Britain’s wartorn industrial Midlands to the rolling downland of Wiltshire. George Rosie recalls his first impressions of an English train: “They really fascinated us with their individual compartments. All had doors to the outside where you could get straight out on to the station platform.”
Pfc James “Pee Wee” Martin (G Co) arrived at Hungerford station, together with the rest of the battalion, during the dark morning hours of September 16. “We were met by a sergeant from the advance party whose job it was to get us to our assigned billets. Someone asked ‘Where are we?’ and the sergeant said ‘This is Hungerford,’with the emphasis on ‘hunger.’There followed a short truck ride to Ramsbury.”
Three weeks earlier, an advance party from the 101st Airborne Division had arrived at Liverpool aboard the SS Louis Pasteur. The group comprised 34 officers, three warrant officers, and 39 enlisted men, and it was their job to take over and open up a number of camps in Wiltshire and Berkshire in preparation for the division’s arrival. Most of the camps were in the Kennet valley between Reading in the east and Ramsbury in the west, a distance of about 30 miles. 101st Divisional HQ was midway between these two points at Greenham Lodge near Newbury. The 506th Regiment established its command post at Littlecote House together with Regimental HQ Co and HQ Co 1st Bn. The entire 2nd Bn went to the village of Aldbourne, about 3 miles north of Ramsbury, and was joined by companies A and B. C Co found itself in the comfortable surroundings of Ramsbury Manor, and 3rd Bn was installed in huts at Camp Ramsbury. Service Co, which was in charge of the regiment’s motor pool, went to Manor Farm, Froxfield, and the riggers were given quarters near the parachute packing sheds at Chilton Foliat.