HERO
OLIN GRAHM
Once upon a time there lived two airmen both
brave but one especially so!
Once upon a time, two brave airmen righted a serious wrong at Greimerath tavern
by subduing all the town bullies in one fell swoop ( a literal swoop). It seems
the town's young men resented the army and airforce communications personnel who
were stationed on nearby hills. The youth especially resented the Americans when
they drank in the town tavern and socialized with the towns frauleins. The town
youth had, on occasion, thrown stones at the vehicles of the army and airforce
personnel. Tensions were so stressed that the army personnel boycotted the
tavern. One night when the two hero airmen closed the neighboring town tavern,
they were full of courage and decided to stop at the Greimerath tavern for a
last drink of the night. Both heroes were fully aware that the town's toughs
would likely be at the tavern in mass. This fact didn't in the least disturb our
heroes. On the night in question one airman was piloting a Fiat automobile…the
kind that had the front doors opening backwards like the old style 1930 gangster
automobiles of America.
As the two heroes departed the neighboring tavern, the streets were iced and
very slick and the temperature was freezing. As the two approached the
Greimerath tavern. they could see a gang of perhaps 15 young toughs standing
outside by the front door because the tavern was closing. The less brave of the
two who was piloting the vehicle urged caution about entering the tavern to
acquire additional spirits . The braver of the airman casually retorted there
was nothing to fear because he would enter and acquire the spirits. After all,
he said we are U S airman, not army, and airmen were fearful of nothing.
The street leading to the tavern was cobblestone with a slight rise leading to
the front door of the tavern. All the youths were standing as a group arraigned
similar to the pins in a bowling alley.
The driver attempted to de-accelerate as he approached the tavern and then out
of panic, he forcefully applied the breaks but the street was a glaze of ice and
the car slowed only marginally. The chief hero being without fear opened the
passenger door and steeped onto the icy street. The car was still moving toward
the tavern and with the car door opening backwards, the door naturally struck
the hero in the backside, thus propelling him at the same velocity as the
automobile. The auto was on a collision course with the gang of youths but
suddenly at a distance of approximately 20 feet, the auto encountered a dry
patch of cobblestone and because the breaks were still being stoutly applied,
the auto stopped suddenly. This sudden stop coupled with the door whip action
had the effect of propelling our hero even faster forward until his feet also
struck the dry patch and he pitched over. He flew completely over the dry patch,
landing on his hands and knees onto another frozen spot of ice where he
continued up the incline on a path much like a bowling ball where-upon the
hero's head struck a youth about knee-high driving him backwards into another.
It looked like a smooth strike with only a hint of a 7-10 split. However,
because of the ice, all the youths were knocked from their feet onto the
slippery down slope where they rolled and slid down the incline into the bumper
of the car. The town toughs never knew what hit them.
Our hero also slid back down the ice to the dry spot muttering entschuldigungzie
to the dazed youth as he picked his way through them. He then reentered the auto
stating the tavern was closed and that we would have to forgo our drink until
later.
For a substantial period thereafter, our hero was feted for his courage by both
his former adversaries and friends for such an audacious single handed attack
upon such a large group. His bravery terminated all malice between the town
toughs and the airman.
Between his adversaries and his airman friends buying beer, our hero went well
over three months without spending a penny. The auto driver not being nearly so
heroic did bask in the hero's glory and received a few free beers.
postscript : It is sad to say the army being not so brave continued to have
trouble with the town toughs.
CHICKEN STUFF
Henry C Sachs
We were up, had our breakfast and were continuing in our winter lethargy ,when
S/SGT Glenn Jones our Site Chief , arrived on the site ,full of energy and
announced that it was spring and we were starting on a Site improvement program
.
Our Site was Falcon 14 ,1st Radio Relay Squadron, 2nd Communication Group , 12th
Air Force . Located on a hill top, a few miles east of the Saarland Border ,as
far west as you can get and still be in ,what was then the French Zone of
Occupation in West Germany .The hill was known locally as the Fuchsbau .
I had been assigned the previous Fall ,late September ,to help move the
operations of the Site from it's temporary location at Erbeskoph were it had
been operating for some months while the construction of more permanent
buildings ( pre -fab's) and a perimeter fence, were completed .The Site
previously had consisted of tents and an equipment van .We were assigned to
Birkenfeld for quarters and Meals, At Birkenfeld there was a small Base ran by
the 602nd AC&W Squadron ,they also operated there equipment at Erbeskoph .After
the move I stayed on as a permanent Radio Repairmen .
A quick dissertation of his plan was followed by the inevitable moans and groans
from the labor force .The labor force was Bob Marcum Assistant Site Chief ,Dick
Langman Power-Man ,Roy Colwell Radio, Gill Anderson Radio ,Harold Engel Radio
,Bob (Jr.)Kilroy Radio ,Gene Lupo Cook , Art Tower Cook and Me Henry Sachs Radio
. The plan was to line the mud that was our parking area with timbers ,to
separate it from the mud that was not the parking area .A search of the
serounding forest produced enough cut logs to fulfill our needs .The next
requirement was top soil , or mud of a different texture . This requirement was
fulfilled by Sgt.. Jones negotiating with the Jagermister from Zusch , and
agreeing to pay a small tax for as much top soil as we wanted .
We had an uncovered 2&1/2 ton 6x6 ,affectionately known as a duce and a half .
Off we went ,four or five of us and our shovels .Sgt.. Jones leading the way,
approximately three miles down from the site to the top soil ,the top soil had
been scraped into piles back in the 1930's as part of a never completed road
building project .We had noticed that the French troops when on maneuvers in the
area ,dug there fox holes in these piles .
Now I do not remember how many truck loads we loaded and unloaded , but with
just shovels and a work force that was not into aerobic workouts ,I am sure that
it wasn't very many . We all agreed that it was enough and probably fearing a
mutiny Sgt.. Jones also agreed .
The top soil was spread , raked and seeded and we looking for any reason to have
a party, celebrated our grate effort of the last few days of hard work in the
usual 1st RR style .
Our efforts were rewarded a few weeks later by a decent crop of nice green grass
. It was a nice contrast to the mud .But now we had another problem . We did not
have a lawn mower. This lack of equipment was a topic of much debate .We could
submit a requisition to Hahn AFB or Birkenfeld AC&W .We were assigned to them
for support ,but they demonstrated in the past that they did not want to be
bothered with us draining there resources .So We were forced to look out for our
selves and became self-reliant and resourceful .This was one of the traits that
distinguished the1st RRS, self-reliance .
One of our most resourceful individuals was Dick Langman our power-man ,a real
can do and get the job done kind of guy .On a trip to Birkenfeld AC&W, our daily
water run , Dick and a companion observed that an Airman was cutting the grass
near the PX with a gas powered mower and that Noon chow was just starting .As
they observed ,the Airman shut off the mower and left it near were they were
parked and went to chow .After some reasoning , "that mower is government
property ,We being in the Air force , were government employees , that Airman
abandon government property ,its our duty to take charge of that property" . And
in the truck it goes . Mower problem solved in the best 1st RR tradition .
After a few weeks of growing and cutting the grass started to look a little
anemic and became the new topic of debate .Dick grew up on a dairy farm ,Harold
Engel had been an Idaho potato farmer .There diagnoses was that the grass needed
fertilizer .Now there was no Home Depot or any home garden center in Germany in
the mid 50s that we were aware of ,so the debate centered on were to obtain
fertilizer. After some checking and a few calls Dick announced ,"He found just
what We need ,Baumholder Army Base has loose fertilizer and they will let us
have a truck load".
Dick and a companion head out for Baumholder and a few hours later return with a
load of dry grayish material .Having grown up in the City and not recognizing
the material a few of us asked what kind of fertilizer is this ? "Why that's
Chicken Stuff ,real good fertilizer" . The manure was dry and almost odor free .
We set about spreading the manure on the grass and on every other growing green
thing on the site .There was a lot of it and we spread it everywhere. We also
experienced a rare stretch of three or four days of dry weather .Our farmers
assured us that "all we need now is rain and you can watch that grass grow ".
We got rain . And the Chicken Stuff got wet and you could find Falcon 14 from
ten miles away just by the smell . The smell was unbelievable and almost
unbearable .Dick in his almost squeaky Wisconsin farm boy voice asked "what's
the matter with you boys ? Haven't you ever smelled Chicken stuff before"
LT. WHATSITS
LEE KELSEY
1stRR mobile site/Stainvill France/I set up on a hill top fussball field. I told
the troops that if we got set up by midnight they could get some beer. They came
back with our weapons carrier full of booze. to keep the stuff cool, it was
placed in rubber laundry bags & stored in our 200 gal water tank trailer, the
tank had a sieve to trap leaves and such (who drank water). we got set up two
days before other 1stRR mobile units did. our cook Carscadden decided that we
should clean out a 12x12 bunker that was a local storage for cow dung. he set up
his stove and stuff, placed a 5 gal GI gas can for the stove, on the roof
(gravity feed). next day it rained all day, a shavetail lietenant came for
inspection, Carscadden was going to make coffee for the Lt in the dung kitchen,
the Lt followed to inspect our messing facilities, next thing, was an explosion
the Lt slipped in the mud trying to exit our messy facility. Carscadden was
laying down the rubber, scrambling over, Lt whatsits back also in a hurry to
exit our dinning hall(no one was injured). next thing I knew the Lt wanted to
inspect my water tank trailer. he complained that a lot of leafy stuff was
floating in the water, and asked if I had put hazeltein tablets in the water, my
reply was what are hazeltein tablets (purification pills). the rain was very
heavy, we placed our rain coats on the the ground of our pup tents and helmets
on the tent poles to keep dry. I had enough of the war time stuff and arranged
for us to move in to a local Gasthouse, had a great beer set-up and the food was
much better than K-Rations (MRI's) and it was warm, the troops were happy, all
was well on the western front.
GERMANY 1949 BEFORE 1st RADIO
made me into an honest airmen.
LEE KELSEY
My arrival in Germany winter of 49,Icame into Rhein/Main by air, was trucked
with other troops in an open 6x6 truck to the Medieval town of Marburg, located
about 60 miles north of Frankfurt, the trip was cold and bumpy, the road was
full of bomb holes, I arrived at the ex-Nazi concern, it was a Medieval Castel,
I thought to myself that "Count Dracaula lives here", we were issued mattress
covers with matresses and told to bed down in the stone covered hallway,I could
just hear the storm troopers marching up and down the stone hallway with their
boot heals echoing off the stone walls. The roof was missing, from the war and
you could look up and see the stares at night, they were big and bright like in
Texas, one of my assignments was to march a group of American repatriates that
had been found, to and from the mess-hall, a couple of them could speak English,
so I selected one of them to call out orders and count cadence and told him that
I didn't wont any of that goose stepping crap. so off went to the cadence of "ein
Zswi, Ein Zswi" I didn't like that, but you can't have everything you way,
besides they were supposed to be Americans.
Next I was assigned guard duty, I had to walk up and down my post, two lengths
of barbed wire fence, right angels to each other.The unspoken rule was to shake
the fence vigorously before started down the fence line. Each time you would do
this, the frauleins on one side of the fence would scatter and the GI's on our
side of the fence would scatter, and you would walk your post in a military
manor, the Sargeant in charge would come by and shout out, "Post number one
report" the reply was, "all goes well at post number one" the one and only time
we were allowed in town,we stashed four packs of cigarreties in our socks and
stuffed our pockets with chewing gum for the little kids. The cigarettes were
sold on the black market, you could get locked up for dealing on the black
market. and the MP's at the gate looked us over good, from top to bottom, if
they had asked us to take off our hats, four more packs would have fell to the
ground. I was a 19 years old the month earlier an Army buck sargeant (three
stripes).
The next story will probably be about my arrival at the Bohnhoff (train station)
in Wiesbaden Germany and my introduction to the enterprising group called 1st
Radio Relay, with troops left over from "Company D 926 Signal Battalion, the
926th hit the beaches of Normandy and flowed with the battle thru France all the
way to Germany.I was a high speed radio operator converted radio repairman U.S.
Army Signal Corp, my only clam to fame as a radio repairman was in a radio shop
back in the States, repairing headsets.
KENNITH G NELSON
HALF A--ED
RAMSTEIN MEMORY
DON (SWEDE ) CARSCADDEN
I arrived at Ramstein Christmas 1956 and all the Squadrons had their
Christmas Lights on... It was really pretty.. Hard to believe it was Air
Force! Snow falling and our bus from Rhein Main pulled up.. and everybody on
board was a graduate of Airborne Radar APS 42 and APN70 from Keesler AFB!..
We talked to a Sergeant on board our flight from the States.. we asked him
if he knew where APO12 was? He said that's Ramstein/ Landstuhl! Wow!!! "What
kind of planes they got"... we asked ... He said "F-86D's Sabres but maybe
F-100's Super Sabres! Holy cow ! We got out of the Bus and the Squadron sign
said "1st Radio Relay Squadron"!
We started seeing all the previous classes that had graduated from Keesler
and they were familiar faces.The mess hall across from the Squadron was
something else.. We went in after stowing our stuff in our rooms in the
1stRRS ... and expecting divided metal trays like Keesler.. we pushed our
brown tray down the line and we were handed plates of food to put on our
tray! Two Army guys in line with us said "They aren't going to believe this
back at our outfit!"... We went to our table with tablecloth.. and a German
Lady came by and asked if we would like coffee!...wow!
Suddenly a spot light turned on a Christmas tree decorated stage... and a
USO Belgium Band played while we ate and they had a very pretty blonde
singer... That was our first night at the 1stRRS in Ramstein!
After Christmas the snow
didn't stop! But the First Sergeant had us get in buses and we went over
roads in the snow surrounded by Fir trees like we have where I live in the
Pacific Northwest.. and we came to Firing Range! I was give an M1 Carbine to
Qualify.. It was Snowing! Airmen were firing and qualifying... we had no
fatigue jacket liners..we were getting cold! It was snowing!.. suddenly it
was my turn!...
It was so cold for us just out of Keesler AFB Biloxi Ms... It was snowing! I
heard commence firing! Brrrrrr.... it was cold! I fired so fast the first
Sergeant said "Cease Firing!" and then he looked at me and said "Pass your
weapon to me!"... mmmm I heard him mutter... (I could have sworn it was an
M2!)...it was cold! He handed it back and I qualified.. we went back to
Ramstein and got changed from fatigues and into class A's .. and off to the
Airmens/NCO club!... Wow another Ramstein memory..
One morning at Muhl Zeusch (I believe) after an evening at the nearest Gasthaus I had plenty of Cognac and awoke very early the next morning. It was bright so I went to work in the Operations Building and became exasperated because no one brought coffee or even offered to help. Finally, I returned to the barracks and upended the cooks bed and asked him what the h--- was going on. He asked me what I meant and I said, "The sun is halfway to midday," and he replied, "Sgt Hall, that's the moon." I cut back on the cognac thereafter and I don't remember if I excused myself. I still don't touch cognac.