DONNELL'S LIFE STORY
Part 5: STATEN ISLAND TO SALERNO, 1943
This is Part 5 of my life story and covers April 4, 1943, the day my ship departed from Staten Island, N.Y., my five months in Africa, and the landing on the beaches of Salerno, Italy, right after September 9, 1943.
APRIL 4, 1943: DEPARTURE BY SHIP
As we moved slowly out of the harbor into the open sea, I could hardly believe what was happening to me. I can still remember vividly the feeling of excitement due to the adventurous nature of what was ahead. We had worked hard for several years in make-believe warfare and felt ready and unafraid. There was a pleasant and happy atmosphere all around me as though we were heading for our first vacation in Paris. Looking out to sea for miles in every direction from my vantage point near the bow, were ships of every description. There were troop ships like our own, cargoes, tankers, Navy escort destroyers, corvettes, and even a battle ship in the far distance. How proud I felt to be a part of such an amazing show of strength on its way to unknown lands and battles.
As I looked back west I could hardly see the tall buildings of New York; then a short time later they had completely disappeared. At that time, I noticed our large convoy had gotten closer together. I could plainly see the merchant ship next to us that was about one-fourth mile away; out further was a battleship and several destroyers. Still, all I could see in every direction, in front, on the left and right and behind were the hundreds of vessels making up the convoy.
It was my understanding that many of the navy ships would return to their U.S. stations after we were far out to sea, beyond the vast number of German submarines patrolling the east coast. It was then that the convoy would have to depend on speed, changing directions every few minutes, the vast size of the Atlantic, and a little luck to avoid the U-boats.
Sometime later I felt cold and alone, as the north wind in early April can get cold up on deck. Looking around I found the deck was nearly deserted, and I quickly made my way down several flights of stairs and climbed up into my bunk. I could feel the motion of the ship as it gently moved with the sway of the sea. This was our first night out and we had "smooth sailing ahead." As I relaxed expecting to go to sleep, I began to think of the events of the day. Both meals had been better than I expected and all had gone well but I couldn't go to sleep. My bunk wasn't bad even though it was covered with canvas, and it was plenty long. I had been assigned to the top bunk and could see only a few pipes and beyond was total darkness. I had slept on this same bunk the night before tied up to the dock and had no trouble sleeping. Now that we were at sea with the ships movement, And the many new sounds around me, I suddenly felt lonely. It was then I began to think about my future.
THOUGHTS OF JEAN
I never had any doubt about winning the war or the part I would play, but it was after the war was over that bothered me. I then began to have serious doubts that I would make a good father or even a good husband for Jean. Certainly I had no experience or qualifications for either one. My high-spirited adventurous feelings suddenly turned glum, doubtful and lonely. In just a few hours I had changed from a 21-year-old GI on the way to seek fortune and fame to a confused and insecure kid! I had nothing to offer a wife and child that I had never seen, only seven days old. It was then I began to think back to when Jean and I met and how attracted we were to each other from the first moment. My thoughts brought me back to how Jean rode a bus all the way to Jacksonville, Florida to see me to three days later on July 4, 1943, and the vows we made, and the four-day honeymoon we spent in St. Augustine. After returning to Texas, Jean even rode a train while three months pregnant, all the way to Buzzards Bay, Massachusetts to be with me! These memories made me realize what a lucky man I was and that our marriage was the best thing that ever happened to me. These lovely thoughts never faded and have never been forgotten.
Day two found us far out to sea with our escort Navy ships still all around the convoy. There were even a few large manned balloons floating low above that could spot any U Boat that should dare to get close to the surface of the sea. Also a sea plane would fly over each hour or so, U-Boat hunting. All of this added to the pleasure of laying on the deck in complete safety.
DAY THREE: DESTINATION ANNOUNCED
On the third morning when I arrived on deck, I noticed that many of the escort ships were missing, as well as the balloons. It would be many days before we would see a seaplane meeting us on the other side. It should be noted that most, if not all, of the merchant ships, including our own, had been outfitted with anti-aircraft guns and tin-can type rockets with fixed launchers. Although the ship's crew, including the Captain, were merchant marines, the guns and launchers were manned by trained Navy sailors. My brother Burl was a Navy gunner and was serving on merchant ships crossing over to England. The anti-aircraft guns and rocket launchers were all over the deck and were off limits to us GIs who had no assigned duties whatever. Although it was not official, it was well known that any vessel that had trouble and could not catch up on its own was left behind to face the German U- boats. Such ships were seldom heard from again, we were told. It must be remembered that in early 1943, the German U-boats were still causing serious damage to our ships leaving from the East Coast. Although I did not keep a daily record on the way over, I thought it took 18 days to cross over. A daily record was kept by an officer who gave a daily account of only 12 days. I'm sure he was right but it seemed like three weeks to most of us. None of the information noted by the officer is listed here but is shown in the T-Patch 36th Division Two Year Overseas Edition, dated 4/15/45. I have a copy that is in bad shape after 63 years but is still readable. I believe it was on the third day out that it was announced that our destination was Oran, Africa. We knew that it would be a friendly port but most of us thought we would land in England. I don't remember any disappointment, most of us thought Oran, Africa would be most interesting, wherever it was!
There were a few scary times when depth charges catapulted from some of our ship's deck exploded far below us. The first time was really scary and it sounded like all the pots and pans from the kitchen above fell to the floor. After several experiences with what we now knew was happening it became nearly routine. As far as I know, we lost not a single ship from that large convoy but did have a few encounters with U-boats.
DAY FOUR: ROUGH SEAS
Around the fourth day we ran into a lot of rough seas. According to the news, it got as rough as anyone could remember. Even some of the sailors got sea sick. Some of our men were too sick to go up on deck for several days and some even refused to go up to eat. We brought food down to them for several days. I was just sick enough to know how badly one feels.
After breakfast one morning I went up on deck to get some fresh air. The water was splashing over the deck in places and the boat was going up and down so I could hardly stand up. Then all of a sudden I felt dizzy and grabbed hold of something to keep from falling. Everything around me seemed to be moving in all directions, and my stomach started doing flip flops, and a big knot formed in my throat. My, what an awful feeling! I first lost my breakfast and then everything else down there and still I was -- well, you know, if you've ever been there! Luckily someone came by and helped me down to my bunk where I stayed until late the next day. After that I was fine for the rest of the trip.
APRIL 13, 1943: MEDITERRANEAN
On the eleventh day we were told that we were near the west shore of North Africa. At that time a large part of our convoy began to move away to land at Casablanca. The rest of us continued on toward Gibraltar. On the morning of the twelfth day as we were finishing our breakfast, our ship came to a halt. We hurried up on deck to see what was going on. A small boat had tied up to us and we could see on our right the shores of Africa; on the left we could see in the distance far away the rock of Gibraltar. I took a few pictures that did not turn out very well, but I still have them. After the business below with the port authorities ended, we continued on our way.
The British Corvettes that had been our escorts for the last two days had turned to sea. We were now in the Mediterranean, which no German U-boat would dare enter! Later in the day, April 13, 1943, our ships arrived at the docks of Oran, Africa. After roll call and a head count, we boarded trucks and headed out of town for several miles. There in the countryside in some rolling hills, we put up pup tents and spent our first night. About the only thing I remember were rocks that lay beneath my blanket, the unusual smell in the air that I later found out was a mixture of grapes, olive trees, and the burning wood of outside cooking fires. I also remember being wakened during the night by airplanes above. We were told these were German recon planes trying to find out what was going on and nothing for us to worry about.
It was nice to be back on land and rid of the continuous movement of the ship. Although the land was hard and rocky, it didn't prevent me from getting a good night's sleep, and it never moved! My thought was how lucky I was to be in the army and not a sailor at sea!
DAY THIRTEEN: RABAT BY BOXCAR
The next morning trucks came to pick us up. Here things appear to get somewhat hazy. I do recall riding by rail in boxcars (8x48) direct to Rabat. The T-Patch issued November 25, 1944 states, “19 April, 1943: The T-Patchers set foot on foreign soil for the first time—Oran, Algeria. Mountain training followed at Magenta, and then a long overland trip to Morocco for more training near Rabat. Oran, Magestogenem, Rabat and Casablanca—all had been cities good to the men of Texas, and passes had come often. Then from the ports from which they had first glimpsed, the dough-boys of the 36th turned their backs on Africa and once again steamed out into the blue Mediterranean.”
Speaking for myself, as well as those I knew, the entire 36th Division traveled by land direct from Oran to near Rabat in Morocco. There in a large sandy cork forest we put up six-man tents and remained for most of five months. As I recall we were told that we were there to assure the Germans would not attempt to cross over the straits from Spain. We spent a lot of time in sports, mainly volleyball and softball. Each of the batteries had their own teams and we competed with each other. A lot of time, though not officially, was spent throwing knives into the cork trees. (We called them stopper trees.)
My little group did do some special training with our four 50-caliber machine guns. Mounting them on rings attached to the top roofs of trucks, we made kites made by me for targets. It was good anti-aircraft practice, using every fourth shell as tracers. Even so it was most difficult to damage a kite darting every direction up on the end of a string.
TRUCKING FROM CASABLANCA TO TANGIER
Sometime during the stay there I was given a special task assignment. It seemed there were a lot of things in Casablanca that needed to be in far-off Tangier. As part of my training back in Fort Bowie, Texas I had to take driving lessons on our 2-1/2 ton trucks with trailers. After completing the lessons, I was awarded a certificate, which went on my record.
The trip to Casablanca and North Africa would involve driving day and night with short stops to eat, thus requiring an assistant driver. The convoy would require many trucks with two wheel trailers and would consist of a lead jeep, a kitchen, and a wrecker with parts would follow.
In Casablanca we were directed to the docks where we loaded up our truck and trailer with K Rations and hard rock candy from a British freighter. My driver, a PFC, had only recently been assigned to a truck and had little experience, which led to our falling behind, trying to catch up, and, of course, an accident. It happened as we rounded a curve going too fast and the trailer swung over too far and the truck’s back wheels ended up on gravel and we slowly turned over on our side. I still remember sliding on our left side down the side of the road with dust flying everywhere. We finally stopped just short of a bridge being guarded by two cool black soldiers. Our trailer was still hanging on but was partly down the side of a mountain. With the help of the two soldiers, we both got out through the right side door, which was above us. I didn’t have a scratch and Cunningham had only a small cut above his left ear. We had lost most of our load, the trailer sideboards were mostly gone; our truck had lost all the windshield, the left door was crushed and barely hanging on, and oil was leaking out. I still remember after all these years: what an awful, ugly sight! There is no doubt that the heavy iron mounting above the cab for the 50-caliber machine gun saved us!
Within an hour extra help needed by our wreckers arrived, and in another hour we were back on wheels with the left door removed, new oil added, and about one half of our food recovered. I don't recall how long it was before we caught up or when we arrived at the docks.
HUMAN CARGO BACK TO CASABLANCA
After unloading we were advised we had cargo to take back to Casablanca. It turned out to be prisoners of war (PWs). When our truck arrived at the PW camp a few hours later, we were met by a group of bewildered and awed people that were surprised to see such junk still able to drive. A few of our own people, plus the MPs and the PWs looked in amazement to see Cunningham and I were perfectly alive even with the truck and trailer looking so bad. One of our well experienced ammo drivers, Lee Lambert, liked what he saw and asked Cunningham if he would change trucks with him until we got back home. Lee was a happy-go-lucky type and a friend of my brother Burl. Cunningham readily agreed as he had had enough of the kidding and attention.
After all the excitement, the MPs asked us to move out of the line to the right. The plan was that prisoners would be loaded into the truck with two MPs as guards in the trailer. It was decided that our trailer was no longer safe for the guards and our truck would carry one half load of Italian PWs. These PWs had been told they were going to the US and there was no way they wanted to escape. With Lee driving and a group of happy, friendly PWs in the back, it was a happy venture back to Casablanca. A few of the PWs could speak pretty good English and they teased us by repeating, "You are going to Germany to fight the Bush and we are going to the States on vacation until the end of the war." Lee and I changed places in the front, and each of us took a turn visiting the PWs in the back. I could write much more about my five months in Africa, but will stop after adding that I had my first drink of Scotch whiskey on a British freighter in Casablanca with some British sailors and my first cup of sweet creamy tea served by Italian PWs around a fire somewhere in Algeria. I can say that the Scotch whiskey was awful, and I can't stand that taste, but the company of the sailors is still remembered. I still love hot sweet creamy tea and drink it often the same way I did back in 1943. Not bad for a poor country boy on his first visit on foreign soil!TIME TO LEAVE FRIENDLY SOIL
Not long after returning to the stopper trees near Rabat, we got orders to pack our gear and get ready for another adventure. This time we were returning to Oran to board another ship and we knew our landing would not be on friendly soil! Sicily, Italy had just been taken by our troops without serious resistance. Maybe we would be so lucky and would be ready to stop playing war games! This time it would be real.
LANDING AT SALERNO
As soon as our ship left the Oran dock, we were told that the landing place we had been training for so long was Salerno, Italy, several miles south of Naples. D-day was 9/9/43, "H" hour was 3:30 a.m. We would be leaving ship no closer than 10 miles from shore. The 50-caliber machine guns were mounted on trucks on another ship and would land later with the two rocket launchers assigned to my group. My instructions were to help hold the beach and to join the rest of the battery when it came ashore.
The color of the net for debarking down the side and the wave number that would group us before starting ashore would be given later. This would be our first time ever to climb down a net from a ship at sea loaded down with full pack, equipment and food to last 10 days. Our life jackets were to be left on the beach.
I don't believe anyone got much sleep during the night before landing. I felt a tad alone as most of my friends who had been with me so long were on other vessels capable of going ashore to land their men and cargo. At some time past daylight we were called through the loudspeakers to lay up to the blue net. One could see the shore in the distance and could tell why our wave number was so late. Our infantry was having trouble, as well as our landing boats. The Germans were not caught completely by surprise.
It finally came our time to lay up to the blue net. Looking down several floors below, the 20 foot wide net below was full, with each GI trying to stay close to the one below. A rough sea was the problem, with deep swells causing the Higgens' boat to rise up and down. Each person had to time himself to turn loose of the net at the right moment or find himself falling on the men below or the boat coming up under him fast, smashing him against the ship. Certainly, our training manual never covered this maneuver but with the help below, we finally pulled away to join our wave, which was circling round and round waiting for a full wave. It was then all boats formed a line (wave) and headed toward shore full speed. As our wave got closer to shore, our wave began to break apart with each one to pick a spot of its own choosing. Our boat finally headed straight for shore and at some point threw out its anchor, and we came to a stop on a sandbar near shore. The front opened up and we lurched through shallow water and up the beach, looking for a safe place to take cover.
A hundred yards or so from the sandy beach we found several foxholes that had been vacated by the men landing before us. All around us were discarded kinds of equipment and many yellow life jackets. Only one dead soldier was noted a few yards away. He was an officer from an anti-aircraft unit and I wondered what could have happened and why had he arrived before me! His helmet was next to him and I saw no sign of him being wounded. What made this so astonishing was that he looked exactly like a red-headed cousin that lived on an onion farm near McKinney, Texas! I can't explain why this event has stayed with me all these many years. Later on I began to feel like he must have been attached to the first landing troops as a forward observer to direct fire for the many big guns of the Navy ships that continued to shell German targets above us.
There were a few adventures there near the beach before my unit was able to come ashore. I soon found out we had not landed on Blue Beach but at a place more favorable to the Navy crew bringing us in. My first action after landing in the foxhole was to assure my gun was in working order. In an attempt to put a shell in the chamber, the gun started firing! This little problem was caused because some time during the last hours I was assigned a 45 caliber submachine gun that I had never fired before.
Such guns were usually assigned for fast close-in fighting by tank, half-track, and special assignment crews. I found out quickly that it was unlike any rifle or revolver I had been trained with. I also found out that it was not designed for foxholes or similar environment as it jammed when affected by sand or dirt. I exchanged it for a 45 caliber pistol with holster that was more suitable for my duties as a corporal over four 50 caliber machine guns and two bazookas (rocket launchers). A little later small arm fire all around me attracted my attention. Looking out I saw a small German tank headed in our direction, not 100 yards away. Then it turned around and headed back the way it had come at full speed and without firing a shot! As it turned out, it was the closest I ever got to a live German tank and I didn't have a bazooka!
Something else that happened while waiting for my unit to come ashore that I will never forget is of interest here. It happened the next day or even the day after that. I can't remember how I got involved or who was working with me but I do remember it took most of one day only. My task as instructed by a unit of the Army Grave Register Department was to assist in moving the dead from 3/4 ton trucks to the grave site. A small bulldozer was busy completing a trench about ten feet wide and eight feet deep. Down about six feet, individual graves of two feet had been dug with a two foot space between each grave, which were seven feet long. This left a three foot space only six feet down to be used as a walkway. We worked in two-man teams to carry each body down a sloping entrance to the walkway and then to the next empty site. The bodies arrived in simple white mattress covers with the open end tied, and as I recall, one dog tag attached. There were at least two Army chaplains, and a Catholic priest that gave each individual service. I've often wondered if these bodies were removed later and shipped back to the US. I never returned to visit this place after that one day.
The next day I located my battery in a staging area just down the beach. I have in my possession a picture of the 36th Division landing at Salerno published by the Fort Worth Star Telegram. This appears to be one of our batteries and the 50 caliber machine gun attached to the roof of the truck in the foreground could be one of the four assigned to me.
This ends Part 5 of the Donnell Hoggatt, Sr., life story and today is July 7, 2008.
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Below is a video of scenes from World War II featuring popular music of the time. Click on the arrow to start the video.
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