DONNELL'S LIFE STORY

Part 4

MARRIAGE TO JEAN

My ride back to camp after leaving Jean at the hotel was almost as gratifying as the bus ride with her to Jacksonville. I was completely overjoyed with the thought of being married to Jean before leaving for the war in Europe.

CHURCH WEDDING & HONEYMOON

We met as planned at the St. Augustine bus station. Everything had gone fine with Jean. We arrived at the church she had picked before sundown. Only the preacher, his wife, and one other couple were there. I know it was only a simple ceremony, but to me our wedding was the most emotionally thrilling feeling I had ever experienced. I was so choked up; I could hardly say a word. Thanks to Jean, I finally was able to say my part, and we were man and wife. I was 20, Jean was 21, and the date was July 4, 1942.

We had a great honeymoon of three days at St. Augustine, Florida and took several pictures. On Monday we took a bus back to Camp Blanding. She stayed that night at the camp guest house, and when we said our goodbyes, we had no idea when we would be together again.

SURPRISE ON CONVOY NORTH

A day or so later, the entire 36^th division moved out in one long convoy heading north. We ended up in North and South Carolina for simulated war games that lasted several weeks. It was there that I found out that I was to be a father! Gosh, was I surprised! Jean and I had never talked even one word about us having children. In fact, we were not supposed to get married until after the war. Although we were committed as to the future, we had never discussed rings. I suppose neither of us thought that was important.

TOGETHERNESS THOUGH APART

Another mysterious situation occurred after we suddenly decided to get married, and that was we would tell no one about our new plans; it would be our own secret. Also, unlike several other friends of ours that did get married hastily, we wanted to wait for a real old fashioned wedding. I can only state that things were much different sixty-four years ago and not just because of the war. Whatever the reasons for what we did or did not do, we were harmoniously united and that condition of togetherness never changed.

I still can recall quite well the news from Richland, Texas that Jean was pregnant. While on the phone, Jean told me that her mother wanted to talk to me. Mama York wasted no time getting to the point: she told me that she had been responsible for Jean’s good reputation but now that she was having my child, it was now my responsibility, and Jean didn’t even have a ring!

She was right, of course. This brings back another time when I got involved with that redheaded mother of Jean’s. It happened just a few months after Jean and I met, when I was in their living room waiting for Jean to get dressed. She came in stating that she needed to talk to me and quickly said that her baby girl had informed her that she was in love with me and what were my intentions? Whatever I was able to say must have satisfied her completely as we had a great relationship. I could never have had a better mother-in-law or a more interesting one!

During this conversation by phone in August 1942, I told Jean that rings would be sent as soon as I had a chance to buy them. She didn't seem very concerned about the rings as much as her mother but was most happy that she was carrying our child.

A BOX MAILED TO RICHLAND

A little later we had a break from our war games and were given passes to town. After walking around for a while, I told my two friends, Clinton Shelburne and Dean Jones, that I wanted to find a jewelry store to buy something for Jean. When I told the clerk that I wanted to look at ladies rings, she asked what I had in mind and I answered wedding rings. My two friends thought I was joking and went along for a while. Then when I found what I wanted, they tried to get me out of the store and told the clerk that I wasn't even married yet but was just looking. Actually, we had visited a bar where a lot of the others had gathered and had a drink or two, but I quickly advised them that I had never been more sober in my life, that I was really married and, in fact, Jean was pregnant. I think that convinced them, and before we left for camp, a box had been mailed to Jean to Richland, Texas.

There was one person in our unit that knew I was married, and that was our battery clerk. I had previously signed papers authorizing my pay and our marriage benefits be sent to Jean Hoggatt at Richland, Texas.

TRAIN TRAVEL & WARTIME TRAINING

After tearing up a lot of North and South Carolina with our trucks, cannons, half-trucks, etc. we were off again, still heading north. This time we were all loaded on trains, mostly flat cars, on our way to Cape Cod, Mass. It was there that we were to complete our training on how to transfer from a big ship at sea to the beaches of some distant land.

Nothing like this had ever come close to such a difficult task as the one we were to prepare for. Gains had been made in landing crafts for unloading men and equipment and it was to be our task to try out the new equipment on a large scale. It was an unexpected treat riding the train through Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, New York and Massachusetts. Somehow people knew we were coming and were along the tracks for many miles to greet us. We were able to move to the flat cars with our trucks and engage the openness and closeness of all the people. They had all kinds of finger foods and fruit and tried to pass it up to us but were not always successful. Although the train slowed down, it never stopped completely, probably for good reasons. Some of the pretty girls handed up notes and cards, giving their names and addresses and wanting pen pals.

CAMP EDWARDS, MASS. BECOMES HOME

I don't recall how long we were on the train, but we finally came to Buzzard's Bay, Mass., and the little town of Onset. We passed over a long, long bridge that separated the mainland from the island. Only a few more miles down the track was Camp Edwards. There we unloaded all our equipment and drove through the camp hoping that we would now enjoy living in one of the many barracks, but it was not to be. We ended up a few miles out of camp in the woods where our tents were waiting for us. This was to be our new home for the next several months, including most of the winter.

Assigned to Defense of the Battery

After leaving Camp Blanding my assignment as battalion dispatcher ended and there would be no more required trip tickets as the assigned driver and his immediate supervisor would be responsible for each vehicle. My new assignment, including the four men under me, was the security or defense of the battery. I was assigned four 50 caliber machine guns and two 3" bazookas. The machine guns were fashioned for anti-aircraft as well as ground support; all our 2-1/2 ton trucks were mounted with a heavy steel ring on the roof just above the rider's side of the truck. This permitted the gun to rotate 360 degrees as well as fire at any level above the level of the truck. There also was a tripod for ground action. Each gun could be removed from one to the other in just a few minutes. A cover was provided for the opening when the gun was not mounted on the truck.

Amphibious Training First

Our special training started the day after our arrival and there would be no rest for the tired and weary. Our amphibious training came first with classes on waterproofing all vehicles. There were two areas of concern that needed waterproofing up to around four feet from the ground: the engine and the tailpipe. A special type of gummy/sticky substance was provided to cover the engine. Pipe fittings were used to extend the tailpipe back over to the side and up. Hopefully, the water would be shallow near the beach. Steel mats were to be used to get through the sandy beaches.

Much of our past training had to be retuned, both as to new/revised equipment and conditioning our bodies and minds to all kinds of weather and under a more war-like environment. We knew by now that it was the Germans and Italians that were to be our enemies.

105 mm Cannon, 30 & 50 Caliber Guns & Bazookas

As for myself, I no longer needed the training and experience of firing the 105 mm cannon but concentrated on the 50 caliber gun and the bazookas. To defend from enemy aircraft I had to learn much more about our own planes and those of the British and the enemy.

During the winter with snow and ice all over, I was assigned to do part of the training of all the troops at Camp Edwards. This was to shoot live ammo over the troops crawling over and through a combat obstacle course of 100 yards. There were four of us stationed to one side. We used 30 caliber machine guns with the barrels about four feet stationary above the ground and mounted on heavy tripods so that neither gun could shoot below four feet and always pointed at a distant target.

This assignment lasted for a couple of weeks. During that time no one was hit by gunfire; there was only one bad injury and it was by one of the training crew. Gene Nutt, a PFC from our battery was blinded when he went to replace an explosive in one of the holes during a break. Apparently, he was not aware that one of the explosives did not go off when it was supposed to! I saw Gene again long after the war. He was with his wife, wearing dark glasses, but otherwise was okay. This was about 47 years later.

An Apartment With Jean

While at Camp Edwards during the winter of 1942, Jean rode up on a train to visit me. I rented a room on the second floor, which was the top floor, of a house with four small apartments. Each one had its own small bathroom but all shared one kitchen. Three of us couples were good friends from Corsicana, Texas. The fourth couple included a mess sargent from outside of the 36th Division. We had some great times together and were lucky to have the mess sargent as a friend because he kept us well supplied with lots of goodies from his company kitchen. We never questioned how he managed these side benefits, but accepted the fact that the army paid for our meals whether we ate at the camp or in an apartment. Married men with wives living near the camp were permitted special passes and we were able to spend most nights and weekends in Onset.

DEATH OF DAD; REUNION WITH BROTHERS

Our good times shared there were interrupted by the sudden death of Dad. I hadn't been told that he was ill and in the P&S Hospital in Corsicana. I was quickly given a pass and train ticket home. Brothers Burl and Billie were also given passes from their Navy basic training from Norfolk, Va. After the funeral we three rode the train together to St. Louis, Mo. It would be nearly three years before we got together again.

Some time in early 1943 Jean returned to Richland, Texas as she was about seven months pregnant. It was a gloomy parting but we both agreed it was best for all. Rumors were spreading that we would soon be contained to camp and there would be no more passes issued.

When I was informed about Dad's death, I was taking another course that was more in line with my new duties. This time it was ranger training, which was the most difficult of any of my army years, both physical and mental. I did not have to complete this course after returning from Corsicana. I often wonder if I could have measured up to the requirements and successfully served in a unit of the Ranger Special Forces. Each member was tested to the full limit of his ability.

I BECOME A FATHER

Some time in late March, 1943 we were alerted that no passes would be given and no contact allowed with those outside camp. We still didn't know the date we would leave or where we would be going. A few days later I got the news that I was now the father of a baby girl named Janell, born on March 27, 1943. The officer that gave me the news allowed one short phone call, with him on the line. (I don't know if all the secrecy was necessary as Jean knew about as much as I did.) I did get to talk to Jean in the P&S Hospital. She and the baby were doing fine, and this high point in our lives together had come and gone successfully. It would be nearly 2-1/2 years before I met my daughter.

ON OUR WAY TO WAR

A few days later we were loaded on a train that ended up at Staten Island, N.Y., where we boarded ship. I still clearly remember waiting in line by number in full dress with pack and our "A bags" on our shoulders. Our "B bags," containing items that would not be needed for some time, were being sent on another ship. Our full names were called out exactly as our last step on U.S. soil was taken. Then as we stepped on the gangplank, we shouted our name, rank, and serial number (mine was ER-20815366).

In the early morning I awoke when I noticed our ship moving and other ships around us moving. It was barely daylight when we reached the deck five floors above. A great feeling came over me as I watched New York and the Statue of Liberty go by. The date was April 2, 1943.

This ends Part IV.

Richard Donnell Hoggatt