Wes Trindal, F/2-22 WWII wrote:

Cows don't give milk. As farmers know, you have to get up early and forcibly squeeze it out of 'em. The same applies to us elders. We don't tell and write our memoirs. You've got to forcibly squeeze those memories out in order to save them for the future.History and memories are like fine wine- all should be aged, but not for to long. It is wisely said that whenevergrandchildren turn to their grandparents for advice and info on life's great mysteries, that family need not

worry about conserving family values. Did you know that there's an epigraph on tombstone of Bob Dylan'sgrave that reads as follows: "He that is not busy being born, is busy dying".. John Hay and John Nicolaygathered and recorded oral recalls. perceptive anecdotes, and personal insights on President Abraham Lincolnand the history of the times. Thus, it was John Hay who said, "Real history is not to be found in books, but inthe personal anecdotes and private letters of those who made history."

It happens in the nicest families. It's a darn shame that so many family members pass-on without any trace of their memories left behind. Future generations, like me, are left to sit and wonder. Now it is up to us, the living -- the survivors to reverse this trend. People need to come forth and share the memories. This applies tothe younger ones as well as us elders. Memories can be defined as an account of some event, or thought, or something that's worth writing down, or recording on tape. Memories are the reminiscence of incidents and events in our life. These memoirs aredifferent from one person to another. Just as our fingerprints and our faces differ, so do our memories. Our memories are constantly changing. Some memories get lost forever. Other memories sharpen with time; they become valid happenings as the mind exercises its muscles. Remember the old "use it or lose it" concept ?.. You've got voluminous, valid, and varied reasons. Some do it for the fun of it. Many write their memories for family reasons. They've been told to get busy and do it. Others do it because it is good therapy. Its a helpfulmental exercise. Many want to educate readers.Often readers of the latest generation have mistaken information. Memoirs become a learning text book becausehistory repeats itself. Then there are quite a number of elders who always wanted to become writers. Recordyour memories, your memoirs, even little anecdotes. They are artistic outlets. Whatever are your reasons, theyare valid enough for you to do it (and never forget that the success of our Regimental newsletter depends onyour stories ).

D-Day Remembered - Morris Austein, I/3-22.

From the March 28, 1994 Boca Raton Newspaper. The infantrymen in Sgt. Morris Austein's unit were accustomed to training operations, but this was 'the real thing' as Supreme Allied Commander Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower told them. As advance troops, their mission was to open the field at Normandy for the troops behind them, Eisenhower said. If the advance troops failed, the whole mission fails. As a Staff Sergeant, Austein was responsible for 42 men in his demolition platoon, Company I. Their mission was to destroy all obstacles hindering the advancement of troops up the beach and into the French countryside. The order to assault came at 5 A.M. on June 6, 1944. Thousands of boats circled the waters around Normandy, Austein remembers. " It seemed as if you could walk from one boat to another, there were so many of them," Austein said."The sky was so full of planes you couldn't see the sky anymore. Bombers were hitting the coast. We all had things on our mind like the enemy and what we would run in to. There were thousands of troops alongside each other going onto the beach. On the shoreline itself there were land mines. Germans put them down and if you stepped on one, you blew up. I lost 5 men that way. There was utter confusion on the beach and soldiers were crying for help." "We saw Gen. Teddy Roosevelt Jr. . He was riding along the beach in a jeep, yelling, ' Move on! Move on !' Meaning get off the beach and keep moving forward. The beach was jamming up with men and equipment. He was afraid they would bomb the hell out of us. My unit pushed forward off the beach. As we moved forward we could smell the stench of dead animals and dead German soldiers. We also found American paratroopers dying. They were hanging on the trees. They got caught in the trees when they came down and the Germans shot them while they were hanging there. One of my men got a shell right in the middle of his back. He was sitting in a hole and a cannon shot from a mile away and hit him in the back. He never knew what hit him, he was killed instantly. We spent the entire day just moving up the beach. We were moving steadily at a reasonable pace and we got about a mile up the beach. I didn't see a German until dusk. I was moving forward around the hedgerows. I looked at him and he looked at me and he turned sideways to walk away. He didn't know I was an American and I didn't know he was a German, it was too dark. But as he turned I recognized the helmet. It was in silhouette. It had a different shape from ours and in the excitement I raised my rifle. At that moment he realized I was an American and we both started shooting at each other. I thought I was shot for a second, but he missed me. I don't know if I hit him, because suddenly a heavy bombardment hit us. There were mortar shells and artillery rounds. The fact that I shot alerted them that we were Americans. The artillery came in very heavy and everyone scattered trying to protect themselves. There were hedgerows all over and we didn't see anything at that time. I couldn't tell if anyone was being killed. We all ran behind hedgerows to protect ourselves and some ran into craters where bombs made big holes. We stayed there the rest of the night. We couldn't move because it was dark. If we moved, we would be shot. No talking even, no smoking and no noise. We covered ourselves to sleep and took our chances. That is how D-Day ended for us."Reflecting upon his experience, Austein said that once people go through a war they feel they can do anything without fear. He discovered that each person reacts differently to combat and no one can predict his reactions until the time comes. Some of his men panicked, some cried and others were strong. Austein adopted a fatalistic approach, which he credits getting him through the experience. "Whatever happens will happen," he figured. Adding that it " was beyond my control." "But, it hurt very badly when you saw someone you know get hit. I lost many good friends...and it hurt." Austein has no regrets about the war and calls it "a fantastic experience." After 21 days of straight combat, Austein was wounded on the outskirts of Cherbourg, France on June 27, 1944. He spent one year at Walter Reed Hospital in Washington, DC. and received a honorable discharge for medical disability. His right leg is still partially paralyzed, but he experiences no pain today.

A Forward Observers Story - Tom Reid, Cannon/I/3-22.

The time, late August 1944. The place, a stable outside Paris. The circumstances, a forward observer and his two man team seek cover from enemy small arms and mortar fire. In August 1944 I was a forward observer with the 22nd Infantry Regiment's Cannon Company. This company had six short barrel 105mm howitzers designed to give the rifle company's some close fire support without calling on the supporting artillery battalion. On paper I was the platoon leader of the third platoon, Canon Company, 22nd Infantry Regiment. But in actual day to day operations, I was the forward observer attached to 3-22. Upon reporting to the battalion I was attached to one of the rifle companies making the main attack. My team consisted of two men, one to carry the SCR-300 radio and one to carry an extra battery. In those days the batteries was about the size of a large toaster
and had an operating life of about 8-10 hours of uninterrupted communication. On this particular day, the platoon I was attached to took cover in a large horse stable until the advance could be resumed. Soon the order came down to hold where we were until some adjacent unit seized a critical road junction. The minutes turned into hours and the platoon leader posted a guard at each end of the stable and told his men to get some rest. Seeing other men lay down to rest, my team and I followed suit. I don't know how long I slept but I awoke with a start when I realized that my two man team and I were the only people in the stable. The entire rifle platoon was gone. Panic was beginning to set in as I quickly roused my two men and rushed to the door to look out. Troops were moving along the road outside the stable and I rushed out to ask what unit they were from. It wasn't our platoon or company, in fact, they were from another battalion. Where was our platoon, our company to which we had been attached ? No one knew. Some said they thought the 3rd Battalion was up ahead in the approach march. Others thought they were in this direction or that. Where was my company to which I had been assigned ? In the event the company commander or platoon leader needed supporting fire from Cannon Company and I was nowhere to be found, this would be serious. I would technically be AWOL even though I was desperately trying to find out the location of the company so I could rejoin them without delay. We asked everybody on the road and finally found out that 3rd Battalion and my assigned company were somewhere forward on the road where we found ourselves. We hurried along on foot, doubling past other units until at last we came upon men from the 3rd Battalion, the rifle company, and the platoon to which I had been assigned waiting on the side of the road. The total time we had been out of touch had been less than an hour but it seemed like an eternity with the consequences of not being where we should be weighing heavily on my mind. There we were, back in the company where we should have been all along. I was sweating a little bit but greatly relieved that no one had noticed our absence. The question of why the platoon had moved out without awakening us bothered me until I asked one of the riflemen why. He replied, "you weren't part of our platoon," thereby expressing one of the basic tenets of organization, the belief that one should adhere to loyalty to one's immediate family - the squad, the platoon, the company - no one else mattered. I understood it, but the fear from that hour was real and left a lasting impression on me and my future military career. In any event, I was soon to be involved in something much larger in scope, for two days later the order came for the entire 4th Infantry Division to mount up and become the first US unit to enter Paris. That would take my mind off almost anything..

July 26, 1944 - Operation Cobra - Presidential Unit Citation .

Riding atop the tanks of the 2nd Armored Division, the 22nd Infantry Regiment spearheaded the St. Lo breakout in Operation Cobra. The Presidential Unit Citation which our unit earned for this operation reads : "The 22nd Infantry Regiment is cited for extraordinary heroism and outstanding performance of duty in action in Normandy, France, during the period of 26 July to 1 August 1944. The 22nd Infantry Regiment was the infantry element of an armored-infantry combat command which successfully effected a breakthrough of the German line of resistance west of St. Lo, forming the St. Gillis-Marigny gap through which the armored-infantry columns surged deep into German held territory. Operating against hardened infantry, artillery, and panzer units, this Regiment, often riding its accompanying tanks, met and overcame the stiffest German resistance in desperate engagements at St. Gillis, Canisy, Le Mesnil, Herman, Villebaudon, Moyen, Percy, and Tessysur-Vire. The 22nd Infantry Regiment in its first action with an armored division, after a short period of indoctrination, assumed the role of armored infantry with unparalleled success. Throughout the swift moving, 7 day operation, the infantry teams kept pace with the tanks, only resting briefly at night relentlessly to press the attack at dawn. Rear echelons fought with enemy groups bypassed in the assault. There was little protection from the heavy artillery which the Germans brought to bear on the American armor. Enemy bombers continually harassed the American troops at night, but in a outstanding performance of duty the 22nd Infantry Regiment perfected an infantry tank team which, by the power of its determined fighting spirit, became an irrestible force on the battlefield." Deeds Not Words !

Warren King, Medic - B/1-22 wrote:

This is my favorite war story (while in a POW camp). I stole one of the guard's ducks and ate it for Christmas 1944. The guards had a white duck that bedded down every night about the same place along the fence. They also had red cabbage planted along the fence. While being a POW, food was scarce. I cased the duck and cabbage for several days. One day I asked my roommates if they would like to have duck for Christmas. They looked at each other in wonderment as if to say where can you get a duck. We (at the time) could cook on a small stove we had. I told them if they would cook the duck, I would get one. They agreed. So, in total darkness I went out to the fence, reached through, placed the duck's head under its wing, and brought it through the fence with never a sound being made. I also got some cabbage. I carried the meat and vegetable inside, killed the duck, plucked the feathers, and hid them under the floor. We ate the duck and cabbage for Christmas. A few nights later an RAF bomber came over and dropped incendiary bombs on our building, burning it and destroying all evidence. A true story (I wouldn't lie).

Donald Faulkner - CO. E/2-22

Battle Of The Bulge - Diary Entries. 12/22/44 - Our Able Peter patrol was halfway to Ecternach. Battalion said, "link up with Peter". I dared not divulge their position so replied to battalion on radio - "my Peter will not stretch that far, sorry". 12/23/44 - Company E was digging in at a point of woods opposite the village of Rodenhauf, Luxembourg. We were heard. The Krauts started by dropping in heavy mortar shells : one, two, three, four on us. It was a battery. By timing the sound we were able to pinpoint the map coordinates of their battery. We called fire from our one battery of worn out 105mm howitzers. "On the way". We listened to them as they swished through the air over our heads and landed one, two, three, four - on target ! We called for "Fire for effect". Great, that did it. No more Kraut mortar fire at all, thank you Lord. 12/24/44 - On Christmas eve, Co. E was dug in a revine in the woods opposite Rodenhauf. Weather was freezing cold. A visitor walking across the snowy frozen fields in the dark from Osweiller, Luxembourg, found his way to the Co. E C.P. in a super hole fashioned by a GI from a grave diggers family in Brooklyn, NY. and covered with logs and much snow. It was CPT. Stephen Sanders who made a presentation "From COL. Kenan to CPT. Faulkner, a half bottle of Red Label Scotch." WOW ! Seven GI's and the Captain pooled their orange powder from K-rations and one canteen of water drained from frozen canteens, heated over a pile of K-ration boxes. It was shared by passing it around from man to man. Delish ! Merry Christmas '44. 12/25/44 - Christmas morning LT. Aldoerfer and one of his men crept through the woods to the nearest Kraut hole, killed two Germans in it, took their light machine-gun, made their way safely back to Co. E CP and presented it as a gift to CPT. Faulkner. Merry Christmas.

George Morgan - WWII Double Deucer.

" When you stare death in the face in a foxhole with other guys, you form a strong bond of friendship. Those Friendships are the kind that go on forever. "

Robert G. Krek
22nd Infantry Regiment Society
Vice President/Web Administrator
http://www.22ndinfantry.org