Combat Chaplain

Six A Reprieve before Cassino

93 WHAT A relief to be away from the front and not even in reserve but actually assigned to an area for a period of rest, the first such experience since the 100th came ashore at Salerno! The men who had survived were entitled to these days of relaxation beyond the reach of enemy shells and bombs. There was a bit of a program to harden the men physically and some instruction of a military nature, but most of the time was for resting and catching up with life. The men were housed in pyramidal tents, several squads under each canvas, with their blankets spread over straw on the ground. Company mess tents adjoined the soldiers’ quarters, and the whole battalion became a reunited family. Most evenings, just after dark, movies were shown out in the open; upon occasion USO groups entertained. Once, Red Cross girls—real American women—visited, bringing doughnuts and coffee and laughter. Genuine bathing was possible; I took a shower on December 16, the first such comfort since I had disembarked from the Rajula in mid-September. Mail accumulated during the combat days was distributed, along with packages; doughboys leisurely wrote long letters to folks back home. Winter uniforms, overshoes, and extra blankets cheered the weary GIs. The beer ration loosened their tongues, for they needed the catharsis of expressing their gripes and telling their war stories to buddies who understood what words were inadequate to express. Meals were tasty, ample, hot, and served at regular intervals. Card games lasted for hours, gambling for followers of Lady Luck and cribbage for the others. Once again Hawaiian music, both vocal and instrumental, echoed throughout the One Puka Puka. Not all the free time was devoted to pleasure. Minds turned to somber reflection. As soon as the remnants of the 100th had stumbled off the hills, questions were asked about buddies in other companies. Who had S I X A Reprieve before Cassino 94 COMBAT CHAPLAIN been killed, who wounded, and how seriously? Then thoughts about the future surfaced. Will they put us back into combat? Are we getting replacements for the empty slots in our units? Do you think the war will end very soon? Many were thankful as they compared these days of luxury with the eternity of discomfort from which they had just escaped. “No got water anymore; we spread out shelter halves and raincoats to catch rain.” “Me, I put out helmet, upside down, to catch the drops.” “One buddhahead, he suck on frozen ground, he so thirsty.” “Good t’ing it rain; but sometimes it rain too much, two days, two nights.” “Hey, you forget the time it snow?” “One time in morning, I pull out canteen to drink, no can, water all frozen.” “You one lucky guy. You got one Coleman stove. Me, I burn strips of K ration box to heat water to warm coffee.” “No can lie down. Stand up all night. Too much water in hole. Good t’ing sun come out in day so I can dry socks and shoes.” “Me, I sit all night with back against side of trench and no can catch much sleep.” “One guy, he took off shoes and no can put ’em back on. He try fo’ crawl back to medics. Trench feet, bad t’ing!” “Boy, my feet still hurt. Wet and cold too much.” “Good t’ing scrub grow some places. Some days I hide and make fire fo’ cook.” “Good t’ing that scrub. It no hide smoke. I no can smoke.” “How come we got winter underwear, but summer uniforms? Oh, da cold up dere!” They recalled how much better the Jerries were living in their reinforced dugouts and how effectively they had used their mortars to make life miserable for the AJAs. They talked about how American artillery shells fell right on them so that they had to phone back not to have our guns fire; our guns could not come up far enough and our men were too close to the Germans for effective use of shelling. They praised the mortar fire of the heavy weapons company; it could not destroy the German positions, but it kept the enemy from moving around very much. Men shook their heads when someone had to tell how this private and that officer died. They wondered what they should write home about friends who would not return to Hawaii. They spoke of their [18.188.142.146] Project MUSE (2024...