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CHAPTER 3 To the War in Europe By August 1944, our training at Camp Beale was completed, so we were ready to move on. We packed our gear and boarded a train that transported us to an east coast port for embarkation for overseas duty. Our troop train left at sunrise. Just before boarding the train, I looked toward the east on my last early morning here at Beale and marveled at the sunrise. The morning , at the time of our departure, was misty; it looked as if we might get some rain later in the day. This was odd for that part of California, which has a desertlike climate and is virtually devoid of rain. I had been here for almost a year and found that the dry climate and open spaces reminded me somewhat of home. Marysville, the little town nearby that I occasionally visited, was a near replica of a small West Texas frontier town. Our first day of travel was one of grandeur and admiration of the bounty and beauty of nature. The mountains and flowing valleys that we passed through could only have been created by a divine hand. The train stopped en route within just a few feet of the side of a mountain with exposed rock where we could see evidence of the rainfall and climate millions of years ago. I found this fascinating—I had never before seen anything like this scenery. I had been around railroads all my life, but I had never seen curves where the engine and the caboose are standing opposite each other going in different directions. “Nature is the living, visible garment of a cosmic deity and is man’s best teacher.” She unfolds her treasures to our search, unseals our eyes, illuminates our minds and purifies our hearts; an influence breathes from all the sights and sounds of her existence—she shows us only the surface of her inexhaustible wealth, but she is millions of fathoms deep. On August 6, we finally arrived at Camp Myles Standish in Boston. We picked up final wares, got all of our legal and health papers in order, wrote letters home, and made all final plans before leaving the states. The long train ride almost kept us in a vacation frame of mind, but making lastminute preparations to embark into the unknown forced us to realize what we were about to engage in and our purpose for being here. As I looked To the War in Europe 37 around at our gun crews, they seemed a little more solemn now but still somewhat excited, with a visible seriousness of purpose in their eyes. Their facial expressions were relaxed and gave the appearance of readiness for the task ahead. Crossing the Atlantic On August 11, 1944, we completed all departure preparations at Camp Myles Standish and headed for the Boston port of embarkation, arriving in late evening. The weather was warm with a hazy overcast like it might rain later that night. Upon our arrival at the Boston port, we went directly to a waiting transport ship. In line to ascend the gangplank, I glanced up and the ship seemed very tall. The soldiers and sailors already aboard appeared to be far away. My turn came to go up the gangplank, so I picked up my duffel bag, threw it across my back, and started upward. When I reached the top and stepped aboard, guides directed me to a deck below and to my assigned bed. The steel beds were very small-framed bunk beds stacked in rows. This arrangement allowed the maximum number of sleeping spaces for passing soldiers. My bed was the second bunk from the bottom, which made me feel safe from falling out during rough seas, as some of the bunks were quite high. It was about midnight by this time, and I decided to go up on deck just to see what things looked like. Our ship was moving slowly, alone in the water, with beacon lights nearby and at distances as far as the eye could see. I looked up, and there were large balloonlike objects just floating in the air all around us. This was a form of protection for our ship against enemy aircraft. The deck was crowded even though it was midnight, but all the soldiers were quiet. I looked beyond human-made objects in the sky and saw Orion’s Belt hanging low in the western sky, which told...

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