Dad's Journal's

Written By Harry H. Morgan
*To Be Handed Down In The Family*

I want to leave something for my children and theirs. I choose a story of my military life because it is the most vivid memory I have. 
I enlisted into the Louisiana National Guards on 10 March 1940. The 141st Field Artillery in Antitank section. After telling the officer that I was sixteen, he said you must be eighteen to join, how old did you say you were? I answered eighteen Sir. That's what I thought you said soldier, now raise your right hand and repeat after me. 
We were known as toy soldiers however, after we were federalized, we helped train the draftees and recruits. The regular army was at low strength and they stood guard over this nation while we trained ourselves and others. If it had not been for the guards, our country would have paid a much higher price in time and blood. The regular and the guards did not know it at the time, but there was a spirit of competition which proved to be healthy for our country. 
We held a three week maneuvers at Camp Claiborne, La. from 4 Aug to 24 Aug 1940. Most of us being young, the maneuvers were more fun then work. This one weekend, from Friday afternoon to Monday morning, six of us went home to New Orleans. Frank Oddo had brought his car to Claiborne and for five dollars a piece, he would take us there and back. Late Friday night, I with two others, were asleep in the back and two others were asleep in the front with Frank driving, and then he went to sleep. When we crawled out of the car, we discovered that I was the only one hurt. A small sliver of glass in my right pinky. The car was on it's right side in a farmers field after having turned over three times. We just left the car there and thumbed our way. A vehicle carrying truck going to New Orleans gave us a lift. There were four new cars on this truck. The driver told us to pick any cars we wanted. He would wake us when entering N.O. but that we must take off our shoes so as not to soil the seats. Frank made arrangements for his car upon our return to Claiborne. 
January 13, 1941-January 1944 
On January 13, 1941, our National Guard Unit was inducted into federal service for one year for training because of the war clouds over Europe. At the end of that one year, we were then to return to N.O. for normal National Guard duty on or about the January 12, 1942. The Japs bombed Pearl Harbor on the 7th of December 1941 so our one year was extended to THE DURATION PLUS SIX MONTHS. 
Shortly after our arrival at Camp Shelby, Mississippi for our one year training, FDR also called up the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) for this one year training. During the depression, when thousands of men were out of work and had no way to support their families, FDR formed the CCC. They dug ditches, planted trees, built levees to control flooding, constructed public buildings and a hundred and one other things. They were put into the ranks of the N.G. units. We trained together and became a fine proud unit. At this point, we were all from Louisiana with most of the CCC men speaking more French than English. 
After a two week maneuver in western Louisiana as a anti-tank unit, using broomsticks as rifles, stovepipes as anti-tank guns and axe handles as machine guns and after having returned to Camp Shelby, we took a train to Camp Young, California for desert training in the Mojave desert as a Tank Destroyer Battalion. Our TD weapon was the M-3 Half-Track.
Training started to get real tough in the Mojave Desert. Three things remained vivid in my mind. One night while walking guard duty in our motor pool I heard this noise and I called out, WHO GOES THERE. General Patton was the reply. ADVANCE TO BE RECOGNIZED I called out. It was Patton. He said good job son and walked off. Nobody would believe me until the next morning when word came down of the units he had inspected on foot and alone. The second was, I became a Bugler. Four of us, one from each company. Only one ever having blown a note before practiced for two months under this lone shade tree far from camp. The reward of becoming a bugler were three-fold. No more kitchen police (KP). No more walking guard duty and the third being the best, radio operator and jeep driver for the company commander. Every fourth day for twenty four hours, I would bugle. The third is very funny and tragic. Our company commander was called by the troops "Cpt Spanky". He was of the old cavalry school. He thought one must spur a TD to get it moving. Ha. He and I were standing atop this rocky knoll looking down at our twelve TD's lined abreast waiting for his signal to attack. He then had me blow "CHARGE". I expected to see Indians at any time. Ha ha. Two days later, we had another company commander whose name was Richard ( REE CHARD) We never did find out what happened to Spanky, the other brass never spoke of him. 
Two of my favorite pass times were killing side winders with a thrown trench knife and hunting for gold or saddle bags hidden by the old west bad guys. Ha.. I found lots of gold. All fools gold. Ha... 
While on maneuvers, crossing an old sea-bed, two half-tracks, one weapons carrier and my jeep sunk to our under-carriages. There we remained for two days waiting for tow vehicles. Fifty feet of cable was needed to reach and pull us out. We had on the weapons carrier, one fifty gallon tank of water and a case of fig newtons. Years had to pass before I could look at another newton.
Many weekends, Arthur Geissler, John (Rookie) Rehms and I would go to Los Angeles by way of hitch-hiking. We went to stage plays and visited the movie allot (Our uniforms were our passes). We watched scenes being shot, spoke to many stars and in general, had good times. Alice Fay coming off a set saw us and came over to us for a talk. Jack Oakie saw Alice doing this and called to her to hurry because of another set. Alice told him, when I'm finished talking with these soldiers, I will. She was tops with all the troops, nothing phony about her. 
We then went to Camp Hood. Texas for live fire training and house to house fighting. Each day for seven days, we marched and ran five miles with rifle and full field packs of sixty pounds, ran up hill and attacked this German village with the cadre acting as enemy soldiers throwing fire crackers and in general, raising hell with us. They taught us how to set booby-traps, how to use plastic explosives along with many dirty killing tricks with your bare hands, etc. Each of us had to fire a belt of ammo with a 30cal MG firing from the hip at birds. Up to that time, I thought only Hollywood hero's could do that. Ha.. We were also placed in positions where artillery was fired over us so we could learn and remember the sounds of incoming fire. Many of the guys wondered how did their pants get wet. Ha.. 
Our training at Camp Atterbury, Ind. was mostly foot drill, rifle firing, gas tents and more foot drill. Our drum and bugle corps came into it's full glory here. Four buglers, six snares and one base drum. This was the time of our rifle team, this was the time of excitement, pride and high spirits. This was also time of marriage. I wanted to go home and see my girl. They would not let me. I conspired with the other buglers and it was planned that every fourth day, one of them would blow my calls, mess up my bed, remake my bed, shine my shoes, etc, and in general, cover for me. I returned on my own after being married and after being AWOL for nineteen days and I was only missed the day before my return and all because of a cake sitting in our mail room. My package had sat there for days on end so they wondered why so they looked. As the old saying goes "It was a piece of cake". Ha.. W/O Johnson defended me in my Special Court Martial. Now we being a National Guard unit, most of us knowing each other and they knowing a love sick pup when they saw one. They let me off easy. $14.00 fine for a period of four months and one months restriction to Camp area. So I spent much of my time at the main service club. I loved ice cream so I volunteered to work the soda fountain. No pay but all the ice-cream one could eat. Ha. 
Hitch hiking to Atterbury from N.O., while walking thru Nashville, I turned this corner and here were two huge MP' s coming my way. I pulled my tie loose, cocked my over seas hat and called to them, Oh man am I glad to see you guys, I'm lost, tired and sleepy and can't find a decent hotel, could you direct me to one? They took me to one and I thanked them and walked thru the front door into the lobby and out thru the back door. If this would have been in Hollywood, I would have won an Oscar for fine acting. Ha. 
This one street separated our Battalion from another units battalion. At the streets end, stood our 3.2 beer hall. All military units are better than the others, so each unit let it be known to the others. Several times, some of our guys would take a beating in this beer hall but only when there were large numbers of them against a few of ours. This one fine night, our company was restricted to our company area but would have a formation at about twenty hundred hours. (8 p.m.) Now this beer hall was going full blast with the other units men when we were formed into ranks and informed of our mission. We were to be marched to this beer hall, go in and throw out every man belonging to this other unit. That seemed to take care of the problem -it was a nice place to drink our 3.2 beer after that. Ha. 
It was there at Atterbury where our drum & bugle corps was used for drill and parades. I've got to say, we were good. We had this huge parade ground with this platform for us just on it's fringe. Due to sickness and leave, not all of us were always there to play. One day I had to play (bugle) alone for a platoon drill. There I am blasting out songs with my bugle and beating the base drum. Must have been a sight to see -the troops were stumbling allover themselves laughing. Ha. 
Our rifle team gave superb performances. We preformed not only on base but several places within the state of Indiana. During one performance with four of us in the left isle and four of us in the right isle with rifles at right shoulder arms in this huge theatre, with color guards in front of each four, with a army band playing on the stage, with the number one man on the right four and the number one man on the left four as partners once on stage (2&2 -3&3 -4&4} , we received our cue to march onto stage. My partner (Herbert Matranger) at that moment left his position to talk with some woman and screwed up the works. We marched onto stage, met in the middle, faced each other's partner and preformed our act. I took it on my own to stand at "Present Arms". The rest carried on grandly and we received volcanic like applause. After the show, I received pats on the back for keeping my cool. We were told that the motion picture people who were making, "This Is The Army" wanted us to come to Hollywood to make to make a "flyer" for their movie. We would each get $25.00 per day and they would pay the government for our time. Orders came up for over-seas movement. We were in the limelight and we were enjoying it. Our next performance would be fighting Hitler. 
Our last training before our big shows in Indiana was a maneuver in Tennessee. In the evenings, we would raid the farmers melon fields using highly skilled infiltration methods, we would liberate juicy, sweet melons. After a few tummy aches, we found that these farmers were also skilled in the methods of infiltration -they would infiltrate pig urine into some juicy, sweet melons via hypodermic needles. Ha. And this was the first time in my young life that I became drunk. While having my jeep repaired in Nashville I met these three G.I.'s on leave who had a hotel room and booze. They had bottles of wine, beer and whiskey which they mixed together in tall glasses and called their drink "Knockout". I remember being dragged across the floor, my head being held over the toilet and being dumped un-ceremoniously into bed. Oh what a headache. Ha. 
January 1944 -23 September 1945. 
We departed from Brooklyn aboard the HMS (ACK-REE-TAIN-E-R), a huge converted passenger liner which we were told could hold fifteen thousand troop's and the way we were packed, I did not doubt it. The ships crew and gun crews were British, a fine lot of men. We were instructed on the ships routine, boat emergency stations, what to do or not do in case of submarine attack, etc. One night of our five day crossing, the engines stopped. We were instructed to remain in our sacks, and to be dead quiet because of a lurking enemy sub to our front. We lay dead and quiet in the water for several hours waiting for the sub to clear the area. When it did, the captain poured on the coal, it was too fast for any sub. That is why we did not go in convoy. The sub detected us too late, the ship changed course several times. One could detect the smell of urine deep within the ship. Nearing the coast of Scotland, a German recon plane spotted us and started circling out of our guns range, no doubt calling for subs. British flying boats came out and gave us cover. We landed in Glosgow. We took train to central England in the little village of STOW-ON-THE-WOLD in the county of Gloucester. A young boy and I struck up a friendship, we had tea and crumpets and went rabbit hunting together. This boy (Jack) told me of the many rabbits about very many rabbits because of the lack of hunting. I managed to get eleven ca1 30 shells. We would crawl indian style trying to get two rabbits lined up for shots. We bagged 13 rabbits in a very short time.. The town butcher cleaned them for us with the understanding that Jack would get three, he would get three and the rest to local towns people. For me, my short stay there was very enjoyable. At the time of this writing, I am trying to locate Jack or his family. I have sent Jacks picture to the Mayor asking him for help. 
We remained in STOW-ON-THE-WOLD for three months for training and medical check-ups. This one fine day we lined up, for a shot or shots. I noticed that the line split just inside the door with a medic standing on each side. Must be two shots, one of the guys said. After taking a shot in my right arm, I moved over for a shot in my left arm. They laughed -how gullable can a guy get- Oh well, I was protected well against something or the other. Ha. 
We went to southern England into what was called D-Camps. Our task was to manage D-2 which meant that we would process troops there for the coming invasion. Also during this time we went to Wales for direct firing practice onto bobbing sea bouys in the Bristol Channel. Now since Morgan is a Welch name, I was very welcome in that area. D-2 was full of Rangers whom we fed, tented and guarded, or should I say guarded the locals from. Ha. Good guys, hard and mean with very sharp knifes to slit German throats or any other throats which got in their way. Our Marines were well trained, elite troops, and by some were considered the best of U.S. forces but when I compare them to Rangers, they are boy-scouts and the Rangers are scout masters. They left on the 4th of June. 
Early morning on the 6th of June 1944, the sky was black with planes, fighters, Attack Bombers, Bombers -American, British, Canadian, Poles, French, and many others striking the beaches and deep within hitting roads, bridges, field artillery, railroads and anything that moved. They cleared the Luftwaffe from the skies so our infantry could get onto those beaches. The planes would return for more bombs, more rockets, more MG ammo and make another run and return again. The sky was so full of planes that their vapor trails made clouds. 
We left sometime later for Normandy in the parish of Calvados as part of the U.S. Third Army. I don't remember how many LST's it took to transport my battalion- the one I was in was packed to the gills. It took many hours for our crossing which was on or about the l7th of July. Everyone on board was quiet, sharpening his trench knife, checking his rifle, thinking his private thoughts, thinking of home. My bugle was in my jeep. Now what good is a bugle? I bent it in two and tossed it into the English Channel. Later in life, I regret that foolish act, I wish I had it now. I drove down the ramp into two feet of water, four wheeled it across the beach, went inland about two hundred yards and waited for all platoons to gather. We were assigned this small area to consolidate and wait for the 3rd Army to activate. The Germans did not know we were there, they thought the 3rd was still in England near the coast of Dover. The fields were littered with destroyed German equipment and had a stench of death about it. We found the stench -alone dead German soldier in heavy brush who had not been discovered by the graves registration. We gathered wood and cremated him. Later, I often thought of him -MIA -who did he leave behind. The 3rd sat still, waiting for the parade to begin. It did at St LO. The bombers came in by the hundreds and carpet bombed a area of one mile wide by several miles deep. It was almost total destruction. Then units from another army rushed in and secured the sides of this carpet bombed area. The 3rd then let the Germans know we were there. It moved in mass cutting to pieces anything to it's front, not concerned about securing it's sides or if German units closed in behind it. Patton said don't worry about the Krauts behind you, let the Krauts worry about that. The enemy had invented the blitzkrieg, now we were showing them how it should be done. We went through many French towns and villages with it's people cheering, crying, throwing flowers and kissing any G.I. who was still long enough to get that kiss. The French (FFI) Free French Of The Interior had risen and were playing havoc with the Bosch. The people were holding their babies at arms length so we could kiss them. They wanted their children to know that they had been kissed by the liberating American soldiers. To my memory at that time, the 2nd French A.D. along with the 4th American A.D. loaded with riding infantry were to our front, we were in convoy just to their rear when we stopped for a few minutes in this small village. Each vehicle was surrounded by the village people with arm loads of of wine and Calvados. There was this whole family by my jeep, and this one woman of about thirty, holding a baby and a bottle kept saying (KISS ME QUICK). Now, that's what it sounded like to me -so I gave her a peck. My skipper, Cpt. Richard, a Louisiana Frenchman looked at me sternly but the woman kept saying the same thing -I pecked her some more -the family was laughing and dancing in the street. I never did find out what that meant -I don't think Richard knew himself. Years later, in New Roads., La., I asked my French speaking grand-mother what the term meant, she did not know. The kisses to follow were kisses of death with hot steel. 
We came into hedge row country supporting the 9Oth Inf. Div. with nothing in front of us but the German 7th Army. The French had built hedge-rows to conserve soil and to have a way to get to their fields. Look at a checker board, each square was separated by a large deep ditch about thirty feet wide. The soil had been put to each side like a levee. Over the years, trees and heavy brush had grown on both levee's with their roots tieing together. The middle part (the ditch) was used by their oxen pulled wagons. A man standing would just be about eye level with the top. The Germans would place a strong force of Wehrmacht defenders behind one row and cover the approaches with murderous small arms fire. At each end of row, properly emplaced, M.G.'s could sweep the fields before them with deadly crossfire. The German plan of defense was a good one. If we took one row, row #2 would go into action with mortars zeroed in on the fields, mortars that burst without warning, spreading fragments and death like a scythe. And to round it off neatly, row #3 was well defended with 88's and other artillery of assorted calibers with all possible targets within range duly noted and accurately plotted. Their plan was to murder us by falling back row after row, making our advance so costly that we would lose heart and retire to the shores of England under the bloodiest defeat in military history. The men of the 9Oth, we and other supporting units pushed forward inch by inch and yard by yard, lashing with everything we had. Guns, knives, stones and fists and guts. The German plan had one flaw, it didn't work. One mechanic somewhere in a rear tank repair unit came up with an idea. They listened to him, tried his idea, and it worked. A heavy steel pointed blade (something like the cow-catcher on front of a locomotive) was welded to some special tanks. They plowed through these hedge rows and they gave us the edge. 
On the 15th of August, we arrived in the area of Argentan -LeBourg -St Leonard (THE VALLEY OF DEATH -Falaise Gap). Things had been quiet for hours and up to this point, we had not suffered any TD losses and had only one wounded. Frank Oddo had taken a small sliver of steel in his gut, just breaking through the skin. The first hint of anything afoot was when we were hit by a artillery barrage. I, with two TD's and one armored car were in this field waiting for orders when it hit. By listening to the sound of incoming mail, one could tell where it would land -in front of you -in back of you or if that shell had your name on it. This one TD man and I were standing when we heard our name. I hit the ground faster than he and he paid the price by taking a hot piece of steel just below his left elbow -it came out at his wrist. While more shells were landing, I put sulfur powder on both wounds and dressed them. Another TD man crossed arms and made a arm chair to carry him out but in the heat of exploding shells, he took off running. He ran right into the arms of our platoon aid man who got him to a jeep and took off for the aid station. I learned later that my dressing was not too good, he almost bled to death. He was shipped out never to return. It seemed like just a minute after the aid man left with him that I found myself in the aid station -a tent about five hundred yards to the rear. I smelled something with a strong odor (smelling salts). Our doctor. Cpt. J.D. Singer said that I walked into the tent in a daze. I went right back. They were in the same location and didn't miss me. This short time that I was away, Sgt Harold Land, a TD commander, had dismounted behind this house so he could peer around it's corner to see if it was safe to move his TD. A sniper clipped the bridge of his nose off. He was back in two weeks with a skin graft. 
We were sitting on this high bluff looking down into the Valley of Death. What remained in this valley was the cream of the German army- the 7th Wehrmacht, a well trained, highly mobile fighting force of untold thousands. They held open this escape gap and were trying to withdraw to fight another day. Many did escape but many did not due to we looking down their throats from this high position on one side and the English and Canadians looking down their throats from the other side. We were both trying to close this gap but higher command had us stop for fear of us attacking each other. This was to main reason why so many of them escaped. But, they sure were not idle. They were throwing everything they had at us. If you can picture hell as fire and brimstone, then, you truly have the picture. It was here that SSG Edward Land and Lt Reck with their platoon had their moment of bloody glory. 
This battle was far from over. All the time we and our allies were blasting them, our fighters and attack bombers had a killing spree. We held our fire whenever the fighters came in at tree level. We surely didn't want to hit our air friends. The Germans was good, they still got many of their men and much of the equipment out of that pocket but the German 7th Army as a fighting force was finished. 
When we went into this valley for mop-up, I spotted this lone American soldier in a sitting position leaning against a tree trunk, I thought, gee how tired he must be to relax in the middle of all this destruction. When I came upon him, I realized that he was no longer of the living. Both legs were gone at the knee level -he was in complete uniform and holding his M-1 in his death grip. 
One TD crew found this German armored car and within were two suit-cases full of French Francs. Later on when we were taking a little R&R in Paris and after some of this money had changed hands in dice games, we found that the money was good, not bogus. The sum was $65,000. Later, agents collected of the sum of $45,000. During this mop-up, I found a picture on a dead German. From the pose of this girl and her writing, I believe her to be American or Canadian. On pictures rear (You're always in my thoughts in whatever I do. Please be careful Ben.) Signed "With Love, Sis." 
The 90th Inf alone in this battle, took 13,000 prisoners, killed or wounded 8,000 but took less than 600 casualties itself. Destroyed were 300 enemy tanks, 250 self-propelled guns, l64 artillery pieces, 3,270 vehicles and other equipment and weapons. 
We moved fast thru town after town -small fire fights along the way with rear guard action to delay us. It has often been said that the German retreated, I can't agree with that. When falling back to regroup, they had a plan and they fought a fine defensive action -their troop's did not panic, they fell back in order. I believe that after they surrendered, we should have refit them and use them to help us kick Stalins ass. 
We went thru Fountainbleau towards Paris. We passed alongside a WW1 battle field. The Germans did not fight in this area- looked like they respected it just as we did. One could still see pieces of barbed-wire and small pieces of rusted equipment. What a waste that war was, here we were again... 
The Germans were pulling back east of Paris and the higher brass planned to let the 2nd French A.D. take Paris. We halted for two weeks to rest and refit and receive replacements. The 2nd night after Paris fell, some of us were allowed into the city for a little R&R. From my company (Co 'A') two weapons carriers with about 30 G.I.'s went in about 0900 hrs. The NCOIC picked a spot on Boulevard Voltaire and we were instructed to return to that spot at 1800 hrs. Everyone was happy. We were the first Americans they had seen. We all went into this large tavern and soon Frenchmen from blocks away brought their family to see us. The French kiss their hero's and will wine and dine them till their eyes bulge. The French were so happy that many of them brought their daughters to entertain the G.I.'s. I met Mr. Rene Susserate there and went with him to his small shop (#6 Boulevard Voltaire). I met his wife, grandmother and their two young children. He could speak very little English and I no French but I could speak some German -so as he. I stayed with them until the last minute before our return trip- We spoke for hours and had several bottles of red wine along with a dinner. Food was scarce but along with what I had brought, they had a fine meal. Let's see now, what did I have in my pockets -I had a small can of butter, two K-Rations, one orange and assorted candy bars. They had a very small piece of meat (I believe horse-meat), a plum pie without sugar and some sort of greens from their small garden -and of course, I had several packs of cigarettes. Now Frenchmen always had wine. It is hard to describe the joy they had in their hearts -If only I could have contacted them after the war. I did write but to no avail. 
I and another were the only two partly sober, so we drove. We drove slow and in black-out with all of them sleeping, on the hood, on the fenders, any place they could. I saw this fork in the road and I was sure I had to take the left one so I did, but it was not a road, it was a railroad track. Nobody was hurt even though several of them bounced off and landed on the railroad bank. I backed up, reloaded and found my way back to our unit. They had all went back to sleep. The next night we returned to Paris, not to return till next morning. I was suppose to drive on return but I was one of them sleeping on a fender. We went to a different location this time close to the Eiffel Tower. There were still some snipers in this part of town, but we did not care -drink had given us a false sense of courage. Some slugs buzzed our heads and we would yell "YOU MISSED US -YOU MISSED US". Ha. Time to move forward.. 
Sometime after Paris, we supported the 79th Inf Div for action in Nancy and Luneville. This was house to house for our Infantry friends with we and tanks giving support. Between these two towns, we had much action in the open fields and in this forest. By this time we were equip with a top of sorts, a thin square sheet of steel held over open top by rods which gave our TD crews protection against tree bursts. This did not obstruct crews view, or movement of MG's. We lost some of our people here. One TD was hit by 88 direct fire and burned. One managed to survive. Joe Pizant with his crew was in the basement of a house when a German tank fired a shell through the window and into the basement killing Joseph H. Pezant and some of his comrads.( I remember sometime in 1946, his mother called me and asked how he had died and had he suffered ) I lied to her and I cried. I had see many dead but in Luneville. Our Grave Registration people used jeeps pulling flatbeds on which they stacked the bodies. Five length wise and five crosswise and so on. I saw three flat-beds parked together waiting for others to join them for their trip to the Graves Registration I.D. area. If there was any fun left in me at all, it faded into the real world. After that and even today, death means nothing to me -it has made me hard of heart. No one could understand this feeling unless that person had seen his friends or fellow fighting man blown apart. 
Back with the 90th, this little French village looked very peaceful with tree lined lanes leading in and out. One company of the 357th supported by my Tank Destroyer platoon was crossing this bare field very slowly with us to their rear training our tubes back and fro waiting. Our position was on this small cross path behind brush with complete vision of this village and surrounding area. Small arms fire started hitting the infantry and mortar shells started falling smack onto our position. Our tubes started blasting any likely target and our 50's gave cover fire while the infantry moved slowly ahead by leaps and bounds . During this incoming mortar fire, our motorcycle messenger calmly road his bike into the fire area, put down his kick-stand and calmly walked to and sat in my jeep.. I was the only witness to this act of defiance -this calm act of not a care in the world. A mortar shell exploded just to the front of my jeep putting a fragment of hot steel into his chest. (Roy J Brignac defied death and lost) Two medics and I put him into their jeep and just as they drove off, a shell hit just feet from me, knocking me down. The very next thing I knew was -I was laying in a water filled ditch a good hundred yards away. I sat there for a few minutes trying to put my thoughts together -what am I doing here , where I am I must have ran or walked in a daze, fell into this ditch... I don't recall how long it took me to return to my unit but when I did. They told me they had missed me and though me dead. Roy was our 1st Sgt's best friend -they had been together in the CCO. It was hard for me to tell Sgt Robin of his friends death. He cried, A young man died -if only he had had some fear, he would have lived. 
The village was taken and secured and then there was the next village. It lay just over the next rise in this beautiful green lush valley. We halted just before crossing this rise for a reconnaissance. Lt Moss, one infantryman and I started up this gentle slope when one of our piper cubs flew over this hill on it's reconnaissance. When we had reached the top, the cub had circled back and flew directly over us at about forty feet when 40 mm shells started exploding between the cub and my jeep. We could see the gun in the fringe of this wood-line as it fired. I whipped the jeep around and re-crossed the rise -at that moment, my jeep, its motor died. Artillery quickly took care of this 40mm gun. Then all was quiet. Either that 40mm was the only gun there or the rest with drew. My jeep, had taken a fragment thru the water pump -how lucky can a guy be. Our mechanic, (T-5 Singletary) quickly repaired the damage. 
Somewhere around this time, some German documents were captured. One of them read "The enemy, the 90th, no longer considers combat as a sport, but fights fanatically to hold his territorial gains. The morale of troops is good, and he attacks vigorously even in the face of losses. In wooded areas the enemy is extremity suspicious and cautious in the woods. He is cunning and knows well how to move about. In fortress fighting he has also proven his worth and has quickly adjusted himself to the new situation. Now, that statement by our enemy makes us feel proud. We the 773rd Tank Destroyers Bn. and the 712th Tank Bn were the back bone of this fine infantry division. 
The village was Petite Hettange on the east bank of the Moselle river. Some infantry had crossed by raft to give front coverage for the Engineers Bn to throw together rafts so we could cross. On it's first crossing, two TD's, our company commander and I, with a platoon of infantry, crossed. On it's return to pick up more armor, the cable broke. More infantry crossed by rubber rafts. It was six or more hours before another armor raft could be set up so, we were alone. The town was being attacked by a German Regiment supported by tanks. A bazooka man thought the TD's were German and prepared to fire when he was tackled by another who had fortunately recognized the painted white stars. The two TD's knocked out two self propelled guns and immobilized a third. Cpt Richard had set up his C.P. along with the Inf C.P. in this house not one hundred feet from the rivers bank. When morning arrived, we found a squad of German infantry hiding in a room within this house. They gave us no trouble, they threw down their arms and said "Comrade". Six days later, in this general area, we started getting heavy fire from the Hackenberg fortifications, the most intense fire we had received thus far. Our tubes could not harm them so heavy stuff was called upon -eight inch, 24mm and 150mm long toms. The forts were destroyed and all personnel were killed. 
We are in Germany now. We crossed the Saar at Dillingen -the most dense portion of the entire Siegfried line. Due to the nature of the river banks, crossing sites were few and all known to the Germans. High ground to the north provided the Germans with ideal observation posts. They could observe the entire area where crossings could be made or tried. Mutually supporting pill boxes of great density were seen by our observers.
We did not know what depth they were in. On the 6th of December 1944 the 358th in assault boats on the left and the 358th on the right crossed with the 359th giving fire support along with 36 TD's of our unit, the 712th Tank Bn and a Bn of quad 50cal M.G.s. Along with this was a Bn of Div artillery and some Long Toms. The Engineers threw a footbridge across for infantry reinforcements, ammo, food, medics, etc. Every time they would complete a cable ferry, the cable would snap due to fast currents or enemy fire. Once the first ferry held, we poured across to give the infantry much needed support. This ferry held for the next fifteen days -all others broke or were hit by fire. Pill box to pill box across this large piece of open ground -if we couldn't bust them open with our tubes, then the Long Tom's would. House to house for days on end right up to the day we had to. I had to make a number runs to the bridge area thru this crossroad which was zeroed in by mortars. Usually the Germans are very methodical, so anyone running this cross road could time the falling mortars. Lt Reck and I timed it and made our run. Would you believe it, that guy firing those shells lost his watch. We bailed out into a ditch with the jeep still moving. Three shells hit, we jumped up, ran after the moving jeep jumped in and took off. We made our C.P. in this beautiful home just inside the city. This home must have belonged to some V.I.P. because it was lavishly furnished with crystal goblets, fine linens, silverware and china.. We remained in this house for three days keeping communications to our TD's end infantry CP via my jeep radio. RE-CROSS THE RIVER. A German counter offensive in Luxembourg end Belgium by General von Rundstedt canceled our offensive in Dillingen. We were ordered to withdraw, re-cross the Saar, regroup, re-supply and head north and stop the Germans. All without informing the Germans of our plans. On the 19th of December, the withdrawal began. Nobody liked this idea, we had lost men both killed and wounded. We were mad because this loss was in vain. As we retired, we destroyed anything which might possibility be of use to the enemy, mined the area., set booby traps and slowly moved westward towards the Saar. I often wondered what happened to that person who pulled the chain to flush that toilet or that person who opened the drawer in that chest or drawers. I wanted my bobby traps to kill or wound enemy soldiers to this day, I wonder.. After most of the units crossed, all but that one ferry were destroyed. Lt. Col Spiess, Cpt Richard and I were the last to cross. The enemy had learned of our plans too late -they had lost a golden opportunity. 
After re-crossing the river Saar, another story started to unfold, another story that was very personal something that tore my guts out -another story of Old Blood & Guts, the greatest General the U.S. Army ever had -a man who who had no compassion for his fellow man -a dirty bastard. On orders from our Bn C.O., Lt Reck and I were to proceed with all possible speed to this track vehicle repair unit to rush repairs on our damaged TD's. -we needed them badly for push to the bulge. The roads were packed with infantry filled trucks -it was winter and the road had patches of ice. I had managed to pass many trucks, but while in between these two trucks, the one in front made a sudden stop because of incoming artillery fire. I stopped just behind him when the truck behind me hit my rear and crushed my vehicle between the two. Lt Recks face hit my 30cal gun mound and the dash board crushed onto our legs. Infantrymen tore the jeep apart to free us. A medic jeep happened along and took him to nearby aid station. I was standing in the road talking to the infantrymen when one of them asked me if I was OK. At that moment. I dropped. My left leg just below my knee cap was torn open. I guess in the excitement, all my attention was on Lt Reck. We were both in the same hospital in Belgium. I was on crutches, prowling the hospital looking for Reck. He was well doped because of his massive injuries (Upper jaw compound fracture -lower jaw compound fracture -compound fracture of one leg). He could talk some -he told me it was just one of those things -it was not my fault. That evening, Patton visited my ward. He stop's to the bed next to mine. He asked what happened to you soldier. The soldier said -took a, machine gun slug in my belly sir. The General told him he was a good soldier and hurry and get well so he could kill some more of those bastards. That's wrong with you son, he asks me. Cut my leg in a jeep accident Sir. He threw his head back and in a loud voice said: "Why, you are no better than the Germans". After he left, some of the other high brass with shame on their faces, tried to apologize for the General. I was too hurt and shocked to say a word. Now I knew why the troops called him "A Son of a Bitch". But one has to give credit where credit is due -he was a good General -the best -old blood and guts -his guts and your blood. 
One week later, I'm at the Repo-Depot waiting for assignment when Benny Mese and Lt Moss drove up looking for me. Benny had taken over my duties and he was very happy of my return -he did not like my job. I now had a fear of driving which my C.O. noticed right off the bat. He insisted that I drive. After a few days, my fear was gone. Everyone knew the story of our accident and Patton's remark. They went out of their way to make me feel welcome and told me how they felt about the bastard. I was promoted to T-5. 
The Battle of the Bulge is in the history books. The Germans were beat and they knew it but they would not give up, or I should say, Hitler would not. It was rear-guard action from then on. The average German soldier was numb with shock and fear of the unknown. But he fought on, and fought on well. 
Another German document was captured, it read (It is imperative that steps be taken to ascertain whether or not the American 90th Infantry has been committed. Prisoners identified with this unit will immediatly be taken to the Regimental G-3). 
We crossed into Germany again. The enemy had dug a large deep ditch to stop us. The Engineers threw bridges across this ditch -we crossed and took up positions in this little village. The Eng cleared some Teller Mines end had stacked them along side this wall.  Lawrence Le Boeuf  wanted to position his Tank Destroyer near this wall and had not seen these mines. He got out of his TD to direct his assistant driver in backing up. The TD rolled onto these mines -the explosion picking up this 37 ton Tank Destroyer and flipping it onto it's top. All were killed - Le Boeuf did not suffer a scratch. 
We went into Oberwampach. On the 17th, the Germans attacked with one regiment of SS screaming to the top of their lungs of fanaticism but our artillery and TD's inflicted costly casualties and smeared the assault for "no gain". We and the tankers destroyed 14 of their tanks and killed or wounded all their SS.. That night, one of their tiger tanks rolled into town, destroyed one TD and also fired point blank into a cellar killing one entire TD crew and some infantry. The tiger was destroyed. 
Our Bn. Commander, Lt Col Spiess was fast becoming an accomplished warrior. The 90th knew they could rely on him for any mission. On the 22nd, Task Force Spiess ran roughshod over the lines, capturing four towns, 300 prisoners and quantities of enemy materials. Holzehen, Arzfeld, Windhausen, town after town, town fell. Lichtenborn, protected by five tanks and infantry were also gathered into the fold. Elements of the 357th and 358th with Task Force Spiess captured Gerolsteir. (An Historical Note) The 358th had served occupational duty there after WW1. I believe it was in this area where we liberated a British POW camp. It was a heart warming experience helping to free the British and Scottish soldiers. But something was wrong -I saw fear in their faces -these people were scared. After talking with many of them I realized it was not fear, it was bewilderment, their minds suffering such torture could not cope with this new found freedom. We stayed there to protect them until other troops arrived. We fed them and in a fashion, dined them. I took seven of them to a beer hall which I had spotted. The owner and his family were hiding in their cellar. The owner was arrogant and would not supply drinks for these soldiers but after having my carbine barrel stuck up, his nose, he had a change of heart. A few drinks gave these soldiers their self confidence back and then they wanted to tear the place apart. I managed to get them out without killing the owner. One of these soldiers was (J.McColm of 423 Shettleton Rd, Glasgow E2, Scotland). In August of 45', while I was in Tirschenreuth, he visited me. Then I lost contact with him. 
We were moving fast now, by passing dozens of towns, receiving surrender or many German troops and their allies. We had broken their lines in countless places, they were confused and demoralized.. Task Force Spiess, consisting of our TD En, the 712th tank Bn and the 357th Reconnaissance people reached the Rhine. We were now headed for Mainz -Task Force Spiess led the way, broke thru their lines and by nightfall were three miles from the city. We encountered heavy enemy fire from Nieder Olm -our fighter bombers hit them hard -our TD's moved up to block exits when white flags appeared. As we were moving in, they fired upon us with 20 mm and 40 mm. Our artillery responded sharply and the town fell. Then the Luftwaffe hit us with Focke-Wulfs, Messerchmidta and their new jet-propelled planes. In Hahnheim, a strong German force refused to surrender so our eight inch guns pounded them until they did. There in front of us was the Rhine with the enemy marshalling his forces for his final stand. 
The Rhine was crossed on the 23rd of March. The enemy reacted with artillery and planes, they had to Stop us. The Rhine was their last hope. We hit Darmstadt- it fell on the 25th. We now faced a Bn of Hitler youth OCS and old men -they put up a token resistance. All Germany was ours for the taking. 
The infantry and our TD's took several villages this one day. Our troops were dog tired but they smelled victory. They were crossing this field coming upon this village. Lt Moss and I were to the front of them. I had been having problems with my 30cal M.G. so this was the time to test my fire. White flags were hanging from windows so I picked a barn on fringe of village to test. I fired into barn and my gun jammed after three rounds. I fired again and it jammed again. Two of these rounds were tracers -they set the barn afire, causing lots of smoke. The infantry thought that the enemy was laying a smoke screen and were mad because they had seen these white flags -so they tore the village apart . 
About this time, I became a armored car commander. I felt that I was not doing enough, so on my request, Cpt. Williams let me go. My friends thought me nuts for wanting a more dangerous job. I now felt better -felt like I was more of a part of a team. 
Sgt. Harold Land was hit again -the first time was in The Valley of Death. There, on foot, peeking around the corner of this house, looking for a better position for his TD, he was hit by a sniper in the bridge of his nose. THIS time, an exploding mortar shell took of his right hand. Just after the war, in Life magazine were pictures of this hand operation .It was Sgt Land and they did save his hand. 
We went thru Merkers, and were several miles past when we were halted and ordered to return to that town. We were to set up defensive positions and hold that town at all costs. It was expected that the enemy would try and retake i t. Merkers had salt mines and a local had informed our people that the German gold reserves were there. The mine held one third of their gold -millions in American, English and French money, many priceless paintings and all forms of other priceless arts. Other forces moved in and we took up the chase of the withdrawing enemy forces. 
We found thirteen American soldiers in Marktreedwitz who had been treated badly by their SS captors. The SS were killed on the spot -it was rare if we took a SS alive. We then learned of other Americans being held in Fuchmuhl - a small Task Force was formed and we rescued sixty three who had suffered the same treatment. Here, someone reported fingers sticking out of the earth. Three American soldiers were found in this shallow grave after being shot in their heads. With these fingers sticking out, it looked like one was alive and trying to dig out. The commander, by gun point, made every man, woman and child in this small village march to and look at these bodies. 
We then captured Tirchenreuth, Flossenberg and Weiden. Flossenberg was the most infamous concentration camp in all of Germany. Bodies were stacked like corkwood. Bodies were still in warm ovens. The still living were skin and bones.. I saw this old Jew sitting and leaning against this wall, holding his hands up as if asking for help. I gave him some water, broke open a K-ration and fed him. He could not hold it down -the food was too rich. He tried to smile, he was trying to thank me, he was so weak and frail. Medics were rushed in. We left with vivid pictures burned into our brains. Frank Oddo was driving the lead jeep. Taking a short-cut thru this field to get to his platoon, he entered a mine field but was not aware of it. The jeep behind him following his tracks, exploded a teller mine -killing four - one of them being blown fifty feet away and into a tree. Frank realized that he had rolled over this mine without setting it off. He then stood on the front bumper of his jeep and was directing it's driver backwards over the same tracks so as to clear the area. It ran over another mine and setting it off. All were killed except Frank. We took defensive positions in this village for the night. Infantry and TD outposts were set up with orders to fire on any moving thing after dark. My friend "Hands" and I wanted eggs. He and I walked to this outpost and informed them that we were going down this road to find eggs -if we did, we would give them some on our return -don't fire on us we said. We walked two miles down this dirt lane and came upon a small house. After observing the area and not detecting any enemy, we went to it's door and knocked. A very scared woman came to the door and after having asked her in very broken German if she had any eggs, she let us in taking us to the kitchen end pointing to a large box. There were dozens of eggs in this box and several bottles of wine about. After talking awhile, she realized that we would not ham her. She set a bottle on her table. She said all German soldiers had left -pointing in the direction they had taken. We thanked her, each taking a bottle and filled our helmets with eggs and left for our walk back. Now, we were happy from drink, and singing Yankee Doodle Dandy when we were ordered to halt. Now, these were not the same people at this out-post, they knew nothing of us -they had not fired on us because of our singing that song. We gave them the eggs that we had promised the other crew. We enjoyed our eggs. 
The next morning, my armored car with infantry stood guard at this same outpost. We see movement far down this dirt lane -troops in formation were marching towards us -the lead holding a white flag. Hands and I, each taking opposite sides of the lane, walked out to meet them. Upon seeing us, they came to a halt standing at attention and still fully armed, I signaled for them to drop arms which they did. Hands searched them one by one while I covered. We marched these twenty enemy soldiers to our out-post. Other troops took over. They were all in their twenties, arrogant and stiff but knew the cause was lost. (I wonder if they had spoken to that woman) 
A little further up the road a few days later, we had received word that the 11th Panzer Division was coming in to surrender. Here they came, miles of convoy -tanks, self-propelled guns, trucks loaded with troops, all fully armed. What a sight that was. The first word of their surrender was by courier with the following message. (Division CP 3 May 45 -11th Panzer Division -Commander - The development of the military and political situation makes it desirable to me to avoid further losses on both sides. I have therefore ordered the Major, the bearer of this note, to negotiate with you the cessation of hostilities) I stood guard over their General while they talked. The 90th infantry moved in and marched them off in mass. 
Germany surrenders on 7 May 1945. All forces will cease active operations at 0001B 9 May 1945. On May 8th, my friend Kenneth Brodersen shot end killed himself accidentally while climbing aboard his TD. He had reached up and grabbed hold of it's mounted 30cal M.G. to pull himself up. It fired one shot into his side, he died in my arms. It had been one week before when he and I went deer hunting. We jumped a wild boar and his sows -he charged -Brodersen calmly raised his carbine anddddddd fired five shots, all hitting the boar -the last slug exploding it's heart. 
We had a fine meal from that boar. We found ourselves in Czechoslovakia at wars end. One platoon, my armored car and one jeep were on the side of this hill -the ground was very muddy - two TD's bow down, another throws a track -that left us with one serviceable cub and my guns, but who cares, the war is over. Then we were informed by piper cub that just below us in the valley were fifty or more SS who would not surrender. Most American troops will not take alive any SS but we did not want to die either, not this late. They surrendered. 
A few other things do come to mind. 
One of our men spotted this well dressed German civilian. He was stopped and given routine search. He had a new suitcase and said he was on his way to a mechanics job which he was offered. His tools were all new and very shiny. His tools were made of solid platinum There was this one infantryman in Company "D" of the 357th Inf. who played harmonica. During rest stops he played often. In the middle 1980's in the VFW club in Seneca Falls, N/Y, this man and I were talking army. It was him -Patrick DeSarro. We were in convoy on this dirt road alongside this tree line. Three ME 109's make a strafing run coming over the tree line. They circled to make another run. A TD man trained his 50cal M.G. on the spot where they had made their last run -five shots brought down the lead plane. The pilot took one thru his heart. The other two ran. ... I am jeeping across this open field with haystacks. A lone ME 109 makes a run on me. I bail out of this running jeep, and get behind a hay stack -he then takes off and so do I. My platoon had taken over this ex German calvary barracks. We were resting and enjoying drinks which our medic had made from pure medical alcohol and grapefruit juice -a canteen cup full for each man. A lone German fighter makes some runs on us. I like the others, manned our M.G.'s. I was sighting on this plane with my 50cal but didn't know which one to shoot at -I saw three. So I fired at all three. We didn't hit him and he didn't hit us -he must also have had a canteen cup full. Going fast over this field exposed to small arms fire, I hit a ditch coming over it's rim with all four wheels off the ground dislodging my five gallon gas can. On my return, I found my can which had one neat hole drilled thru. 
We are now pulling occupational in Tirchenreuth and patrolling the Checki border. If any German units came from there, we were to turn them back and tell them to surrender to the Russians. None came. At this time, names were pulled from hats -two men from each company of all units in this area were to have one week R&R in Nice, France right on the Mediterranean. Mine was pulled. We went there in the old forty and eights of WW1. Climbing this hill, the loco came to a complete stop -it could not pull the weight. We all got out and shoved the whole train over the hill.. The army had taken over the finest hotels. Everything was free -had a great time. Men were to go home on the point system. So many points for each campaign, so many points for awards. etc. etc. I had 84 which meant that I would be in the second wave of returning troops. The first men were to return via air. Second and so on by ship. It so happened that some ship people got home before the air people. Everything was confused. I took ship in Marseille, France. Before we took, ship we were housed in tents run by the Underground Messkit Repair Battalion. In other words, troops who had never seen action. They saw some action after they tried to fleece us in games. They had dice tables, black-jack tables set up in their company streets. Their wounds did not entitle them to purple Hearts..
Discharged Sep 23 1945. 
I re-entered the army and retired from same on 31 Nov 1973. During this time, my duty stations were:
Korea - Camp LeRoy Johnson in New Orleans, -Puerto Rico -Fort Meade, Md. -Kagnew Station, Eritiea, Ethiopia, Africa - Fort Story, Va. -Viet Nam and retired from Seneca Army Depot in N.Y. 
A brief run down of my duties. 
Korea 1961/1962. Military Police at P'tanmunjon. Also United Nations Courier. 
LeRoy Johnson 1962/1963 Military Police. Also Provost Investigator. 
Puerto Rico 1963/1966 Military Police. 
Fort Meade 1966/1967 Military Police. Also Validations Investigator. 
Ethiopia 1967/1970 Military police. Unit Supply Sgt. Fort Story 1970/1971 Supply Sgt. Also NCOIC Missile Site. 
Viet Nam 1971/1972 Supply Sgt for Joint Custom's Group. 
Seneca Arm Depot 1972-Retire. Supply Sgt. 
ADD ON: 
I wrote to Mayor of STOW-ON-THE-WOLD looking for Jack. He was found and wrote to me on 3/18/90. The Mayor recognized Jacks photo. They had gone to school together 

Written On 2/15/90 Harry Hunter Morgan/USA Retired

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After a 13 year break from the army

NOTES ON MILITARY SERVICE 1961/1973 
At this time, Shirley and I had five children.
Kathy- Birth year 1946
Harry Jr.- Birth year 1948
Chris- Birth year 1950
Rick- Birth year 1952
Nancy- Birth year 1954
I was 37 years of age and out of work. I re-entered the army with the plan of staying thirteen years and then retiring. I re-enlisted in New Orleans on 1/10/61. Although I was a combat veteran, I was send to Fort Hood, Texas for Basic Training. I really did not mind because I was really out of shape. On day of arrival there, because I was a veteran of combat, I was put in charge of a barracks. The next morning in formation, I was told by the commander that: A mistake was made since I was a combat veteran, I did not belong in Basic. I was then assigned to the 17th Eng, 2nd A.D. for advanced training, which was rifle range and gas chamber. While there, I had no assigned duties other than help the Engineers lay sidewalks. Shirley drove to Hood, stayed a short while, returned to New Orleans and came back with Chris, Rick and Nancy. My rifle fire score was tops of basic and advanced training units, to include many assigned units. NOTE: My brother and I, had in our home, when we were ages 12 & 15, a rifle range. 

Departed for Korea from Hood aboard train in February of 1961 to California. To Korea by military Air Command, Edwards Air Force Base, aboard a four prop troop carrier, via Hawaii, Midway, Guam and Japan. Landed in Kimpo, South Korea and assigned to JSA (Joint Security Area). For five months, I stood guard, alongside North Korean Guards in P'anmunjom as a Military Policeman. During this time, I made my first return rank of Private First Class. One night on my walking patrol area, I captured two (Slicky Boys) breaking into a safe which belonged to the Swiss/Swedes of the United Nations. because of this, for the rest of my tour, I was made the United Nations courier with a daily run from P'anmunjom to Seoul, 8th Army Hq. with classified documents. My jeep was equipped with a sign which read "DO NOT DELAY"
Other units, for some reason or the other, were putting the same signs on their jeeps. The 8th army came out with a directive "no vehicle will bear a do not delay sign". On one run there in Seoul, the local M.P. unit stopped me and had me follow them to their desk sergeant, at which point, I was read the riot act and told to surrender my special bag to them which I refused after explaining to them that the classified bag with contents were in my sole charge. Two M.P's. were instructed to take this bag from me, at which point I laid my hand on the butt of my 45cal automatic. They had second thoughts about this and contacted higher HQ. 8th Army HQ, then put out a directive that my jeep would be the only jeep in Korea allowed a "DO NOT DELAY" sign. That was quite a interesting day... Shirley is now laying in the Soldiers/Sailors Hospital in New Orleans  following a spinal fusion operation and the kids are living in three different homes and going to different schools, so I must return home. After going through all proper channels and being refused, Shirley wrote to the President (JFK) and the doctor wrote to the army. Because of that, I was back in the states in one week with instructions to report to the nearest army base after seeing my wife and taking care of my family. I reported to Camp LeRoy Johnson in New Orleans. The base hospital supplied a ambulance with two medics to help me get Shirley from the hospital to a place of my choice. Since she was bed ridden, the medics showed me how to change bed linen without removing her from bed. After she was up and well, I took up duties at LeRoy Johnson as a M.P. During my tour there, they needed a Provost Investigator. That was my assignment there until my next tour in Puerto Rico. 
I had two other enlistments between WW2 and Korea which I failed to mention. On 17 June 1948, on a re-enlistment, my duty station was Camp LeRoy Johnson. There my duty was M.P. Sometime later, I changed my MOS from MP to Bugler. Some nights Shirley would play bingo there and leave Kathy in the camp nursery. Just in front of this nursery, we had the buglers megaphone. As young as Kathy was, she would not go to sleep until I blew TAPS at 10 p.m.. The nurses in charge were amazed at this. Also, during this tour, I blew Taps at 84 military funerals all being returned WW2 dead. In Sep of 49', the army had to cut it's forces, so anyone who could show proof that they could make more money in the civilian world could be discharged. I did, so was discharged on 27 Sep 49'. Shortly after that, I was glad that I had gotten out
because of Korea. Later, I had learned that most of the troops from LeRoy to Korea were killed. 
My other tour prior to LeRoy was Orlando Army Air Base from 15 Nov 1945 to 4 Feb 1947. Shirley was with me there. Kathy was born in the Orlando Army Air Base Hospital. My rank was Corporal. My duty was in charge of 40 jeeps in base motor pool. On to Puerto Rico from LeRoy Johnson as a SP4. SP4's with over four years active duty could take their families. I left alone in June of 1963. I went by train to Brooklyn Army Terminal where I boarded a troop ship. Since my MOS was as a MP, I was assigned that duty aboard. My station was on the fantail catwalk. My duty was, if someone fell overboard, hit the alarm button, throw over the side the life ring and a cylinder containing a light and radio signal and then dive overboard to save that person. I'm glad that I was not put to that test. Two months later, my car arrived and the next day, my family by plane at Ramsey Air Force Base. We had quarters at ATH (Army Terminal Housing sub-standard). We later moved to BHA. (Other Housing) Duties were MP, both gates and patrol. Shirley worked as head waitress and hostess and I ran a small bar during special events. This was in our NCO Club & Officers Club. There were no ranks open in the MP Corp due to a cut back, so I changed my MOS to heavy duty wheel vehicle operator. I then was made SP/5. The tour was good, we all enjoyed it. Three things we enjoyed very much. Down the north coast, we found a lonely strip of beach where we had many picnics. We had a Army/Navy Beach. The Army was responsible for it's security (military personnel only) and the canteen, dressing rooms, etc. The navy for the water safety. When waves came over the protected barrier, frogmen would dive, set charges and blow. This was to kill any sharks, etc, which were washed into our safe water. We loved the casinos. Shirley played blackjack and I roulette. Shirley was top notch in her job and she was tipped heavily more than I was aware of. For instance, one day I said wish we had money so we could go to a casino. She took the base of our phone off and dug out a hundred doll or bill. One other time, she had one in a door handle. She did this for one reason, for when I wanted to play. In Puerto Rico, Harry Jr.
enlisted. He went off to Basic and then to Germany. Kathy met and married a soldier stationed there with (ASA). They left for Fort Deven's. We bought a horse for Chris and she loved that horse. Sam was his name. Chris, Rick & Nancy went to school on base. We had a wonderful time there. On to my next duty station which was Fort Meade, Md. (It was in Puerto Rico when my mother died. I flew home for one week). Left Puerto Rico on June of 1966. 
We flew together aboard civilian aircraft. A military bus picked us up. I let my MP unit know that I was there but would continue my 30 day leave prior to duty. We went to Baltimore and bought a 1965 Ford, drove to New Orleans and stayed a week and then drove to Fort Deven's to see Kathy. Before we left Meade for these trips, I arranged for government quarters, which were waiting for us upon our return. MP duty again about six months. I was made Investigator for the Provost Marshal. After solving a few minor cases, I was made Validations Investigator for the whole state of Maryland. I was issued proper I.D. my investigation was of active service personnel, retired personnel and former military personnel, both E.M. & Officer. My range of investigation was limited to two types. One being (Class 'Q' allotments) and fraudulent travel claims. The first was: A soldier sent to Nam claims his mother as a dependent and wants a Class 'Q' allotment for her because she is under doctors care and can not work. I check the county's records, her doctors records, police files, etc., to see if this claim is indeed true. 95 out of 100 were. It was on my findings if she did or did not receive allotment. Fraud. If a person claimed dislocation allowance, that person could not also claim allowance for having their camper moved. Many persons bad made this mistake. If a person, now a civilian, did not want to deal with me because I was a active soldier, I would inform that person that the next person they saw would be a federal officer. They usually saw the light, and if they were wrong, they paid. Some officers thought it was beneath them to deal with an enlisted man. This full bird Colonel refused even to talk with me concerning $110.00 which be owed the government. I told him that the next person he saw concerning this would be a General. He paid... Harry Jr. came home from Germany on leave and returned. Kathy and her husband came for awhile and then went to state of Washington. Shirley worked at our post officers club as cashier. My movement orders came. Shirley was working behind the cage as cashier counting a pile of bills when I told her where we were going. She forgot her count, her mouth dropped open and she said WHERE? We were going to Ethiopia, Africa. We all got our shots, passports, etc., and then Harry Jr. turns up with a bad conduct discharge and wants to go with us. He and I went to the Pentagon for his passport. Since he was still a minor, I was authorized to take him with us. It was a good tour.

Harry, Chris, Rick, Nancy, Shirley and I left in June of 1967 from JFK on TWA non-stop to Greece. We stay overnight at a military selected hotel. This was quite a thrill for Shirley. We sat at a small table on the Med and had some local beer. Next morning, we fly to Cairo with a short stay and then on to Asmara. Our sponsor "Sgt Stafford" met us, put us up at a local hotel for that night. He was to pick us up next day and take us to our quarters. When he left us that night, he said, wait till next morning, but refused to comment on that remark. About four in the morning, we heard this very loud chanting, the muslims were saying their morning prayers. I checked in but was given time to situate the family, school, etc. Our quarters was in "Track C". This was surrounded by a high heavy wall with guards on the one entrance/exit. My unit was STRATCOM, located about four miles away on "Track A". My duty station would be at "GURA", a small village twenty miles away. It's main function was one of communication for the President of the United States if he were in the area of Mid East, Africa and Med. We had two satellites in orbit, with a dish to track same for communication. We had three 50 KW generators for power and our water was trucked in. We were surrounded by open velt and a few native grass and tin huts. The Ethiopian 2nd Inf. Division was just about five miles from us living in tin sheds. Their purpose was to fight and control the ELF. The ELF were fighting for their freedom. This providence of Eritrea was given to Ethiopia by the League Of Nations in the thirties. They have always resisted this move and have fought ever since. But, they liked Americans so we were safe. I was sent to Asmara (KAGNEW STATION) as a heavy duty wheel vehicle operator. At Gura I was told that I was now a generator mechanic. I was then moved to Track D. Here STRATCOM had one large sealed building with one entrance controlled by MP's. Now I was a MP, back to my line of work. STRATCOM had six MP's and one NCOIC, which was I. After a few months there, the Commanding Officer of STRATCOM wanted to give me rank, but the only position open was for SSG E-6 (Staff Sergeant) was in the supply field (Unit Supply Sergeant). I took it and soon learned the trade. We had a great time there. Every other week or so, we went to port of Massawa. Never go in one car, there were too many shifties (bandits). We went in convoy, always three, four families. Our station was at 7,600 feet. Due to switchbacks, small roads, etc, the trip took three or more hours and Massawa was only 82 miles away. After leaving the top at about 82d, we hit 130d in the flat lands below. We all carried a cooler with beer and soft drinks. In three different spots along the way, there were some trees. We made these our rest spots. To relieve ourselves, one had to be very careful, cobras and mombas snakes all over the place. All natives there were very curious, but friendly. This is camel country. We have a picture of one laying on it's back scratching itself. Shirley and the kids took camel rides on the beach. The little money we would give them for a camel ride would be more money they could make in a month. We stayed overnight one time. We had an open tent and army cots and by lantern light, we would play cards, have some beer or pop and just have a great time. Until the sun came up that is. The flies would come out by the thousands. The natives must have though us queer because we could not stand the flies. They seem not to notice these flies which are crawling into their open mouth, walking on their eyeballs and up their nostrils. We had a house maid, as everyone did. This one, we called Anne, would not even let us pour our own coffee. She did everything to include taking care of little Harry. (More on him below). We paid her $40.00 in their own money which was $16.00 is ours. This was per month. Now, the average wage per year was $60.00. On this, she hired a maid for her place full time, fed her family well and in general, lived high on the hog. Now, little Harry was Kathy's son. She was in Washington along with her other son Charlie and pregnant for Harry ( she did not know she was pregnant) They had no place to live. Her husband left her. I spoke with my C.O. and Post Commander. With their permission, I paid for their travel to Kagnew Station. She could live with us, have free hospitalization, use the P.X., etc. I named him and he was ours after that. Later in 1986, we adopted him. She later met and married a service man stationed there. Harry Jr. also left before my tour was up. He was restless. Chris also met her future husband there and she left early to meet him in the states. While there, I took a part time job at our golf club as manager. The local caretakers were all in the ELF (UN KNOWN TO ME). We got along well. I respected their culture, they knew this. After getting them two pay raises, the head bartender asked what did I think of the ELF. I told him a short story of how we Americans fought the British for our freedom. That word must have spread like wild fire because after that they could not do enough for me. One of them got married. She was beautiful in her native dress. They were married in a very large tent and had two hundred or more guests. Shirley and I were guest of honor. We were not allowed to feed ourselves. They fed us by hand. That is their custom. The food was ( I can not describe it) and with their fingers in our mouths I cannot describe that either. But, we smiled. They would ambush Ethiopian army trucks, kill it's troops and just raise havoc. If an American was in the way, in any danger of harm, they would hold their fire. They loved to catch gas trucks lumbering up the steep roads with troops behind them. They would blow the gas truck and the gas would cremate anything behind. If one of we Americans were in danger, they let the truck and troops pass. Weeks before we departed for my next duty, we planned on having Pizza at this place inn downtown Asmara. But, just prior to this, the ELF, through the grapevine, had let the Americans know that we had to stay out of their line of fire. Things were going bad for them and they had to hit hard and often at the forces of "HS". If needed, they would fire through us. We changed our minds about having pizza and next day, we learned that at this Pizza place that we planned on going to, the ELF (Chicago Style) hit's the pizza placed with gun fire from several moving cars. Everyone was killed. There were several local HS men there having Pizza. They were the target. We were there for three and a half years. Doing this time. HS would come to Kagnew Station for dental and medical check ups. ( We did not think he trusted his own people). The ELF never tried anything against him while he was on base. We would be on high alert, everyone restricted to base or their homes. As he would fly into Asmara airport, his Air Force of six prop fighters flying wing tip with him and his four jet fighters flying as outpost, would form single file after his landing and they would give constant cover. On his motor trip to Kagnew (5 miles) they would in single file buzz his car. Had anything happened to him, one shot being fired at him, they would have attacked anything that moved. Shirley took pictures of him. One other time we were restricted. Two young girls killed their father. HS kept them in jail until they were 15 & 16 then hung them in the city square and let the bodies remain there for three days. His Air Force would bomb and straff any village thought to have anything to do with the ELF. (NOT UNLIKE VIETNAM) We boarded the plane in May of 70' via Cairo, Athens, Frankfort and landed at JFK. In Cairo we were herded like cattle into their airport lounge. Nassau who was friendly with Russia and hated America, was expected to land at any moment. Armed guards kept us in this building until he landed and departed. Now, we are over the Med when a engine quits. The pilot said no cause for alarm. It had a small oil leak and that he would turn it back on upon landing. We landed fine but all the emergency trucks were on the runway. What a day.... Stayed over night in Athens. Chris, now living in Long Island, N.Y. picked us up. We stayed with them for one month until our car arrived in New Jersey. My duty station was to be Fort Hood as supply sergeant. Our car arrived in Bayonne, N/J. Our car was shipped on a grain ship and took 3 months. (We had shipped it two months prior to our departure. It was filthy and covered with grain, with Ethiopian plates still on. When on our way to Chris's house, this police car pulled me over. He could not understand the dirt and the plates. We had a good laugh. I drove with Rick to the Pentagon to try to have my orders changed from Fort Hood to the East coast. I was assigned to Fort Story, Va., which is just next to Virginia Beach. We visited Shirley's mother in New Orleans then Harry Jr. in Indiana and Allen Goodman in Brooklyn then on to Fort Story.
My assignment was Unit Supply Sergeant. They did not need a NCOIC for the M.P.'s at the missile site. This missile site was one of three, the other two being National Guards. Our mission was defense of Washington D.C. I had six assigned M.P.'s who manned the gates and gave security for nukes. We lived in government quarters on post and fully enjoyed our tour there. Our main enjoyment was crabbing. Since we were from New Orleans, we knew just how to cook crabs. We boiled them with much seasonings. The locals did not know what they were missing. Harry Jr. and his family moved in with us. One day while on duty, I received a phone call from the top Sergeant telling me to report to the C.O. in class A uniform on the double. He started reading the riot act, demanded me to remain at attention saying he would not except this kind of conduct from any of his men. He went on and on. All this time, I tried to ask what he was talking about but was told to remain silent. Then it came.. "You were issued a speeding ticket in Norfolk and you failed to appear in court. I am giving you a direct order, you will report to the Norfolk authorities now. Now, what do you have to say?" I told him, I refuse his direct order, and that it was my son (JR) who got a ticket, not me. I saluted, did an about face and departed. Never heard another word from him, but, he was always polite after that. I did have one more encounter with him. Being a secure restricted area, all personnel had to show proper I.D. to enter, have any packages, etc, searched. Two of our warrant Officers, trying to be cute, told my MP on duty at this gate that they had a bomb. I informed the C.O., who then gave them a dressing down. After one year, my next orders came up for Vietnam. 
Prior to leaving for Nam in June of 1971, I had to relocate the family. Kathy was near Killeen, Texas living in this trailer park. Shirley, Rick & Nancy had a trailer in same park. Harry Jr., Wanda and Jeffery came later and also stayed in park. I left from there for Nam. Later, while I was in Nam, Harry and Nancy both got themselves in trouble so mom packed them up, rented a U-Haul and left for Long Island to stay with Chris. I landed in Long Bien, the air force base near there. I was assigned to the 18th Military Police Brigade and took position as Supply Sergeant with Joint Customs. Nobody seemed to know what they were doing. I had a tent with one other person. I bad a job title but no job, name only. For several months, I did nothing but listen to the armed forces radio and sat at a empty desk. I noticed that we had many troops doing just that. Six months later, I went home on leave. Upon returning, I found that my unit had moved. Upon finding same, I found that I now had a job. The Joint Customs had separated from the 18th Brigade. A double room was waiting for me. Now, I started to find out just what Viet Nam was all about. I tore down this partition to make one large room. I had noticed that there were several empty knot holes. Out poured several hundred empty one ounce vials. They had bad heroin in them. The military bases were dope and parties. My unit was composed of four MP companies. One in Long Bien, which was also HQ, one in Saigon, one in Danang and the other spread out into small groups. Our mission was to stop the flow of drugs to America which was being carried back by our own forces upon rotation. All personnel upon leaving were searched, including all baggage. Approx, one out of every 10/12, tried to smuggle dope or other items. Cassette tapes was their favorite place to hide heroin. We had dogs for that, they were good. I would take a bag of heroin, bag of weed, etc, and hide it in my supply building. One day, I hid weed on a shelf within a case of cleaning powders and the dog found it. One dog found weed banging inside a jeep gas tank. All packages at our post offices were opened. One man had six cakes of bath soap in his package. Now, why would a man send bath soap to the land of the PX. He had hollowed out the bars and stuffed them with heroin. How stupid can a person be. One man tried to send home a skull. Many tried to send weapons home. Many of our own MP's tried the same. The things they tried to send home were unlimited and some sickening. Once a month, I would catch a flight to the other units to check their supply records, arms, rations, etc. On my first trip to Danang, in the middle of the week, I was greeting by a large party held in my honor. It was held to make me feel at home, to make me forget my mission. I found weapons missing, records unfinished, etc. It all went into my report but nothing was done about it because HQ was in the same shape. Across the air strip from this customs unit, were three special barracks where troops going home would spend the last night. The Viet Com send some rockets in, one or more hitting the middle building direct. Three dead, two missing and many wounded. Now, we not only checked the army personnel, sailors, air force marines, etc. Many of all branches of our armed forces were hung up on heroin. I'm sure more got through than we were able to stop. 
I have not one good thing to say about Nam. It was a dirty political war. The president wanted us there but would not let the Generals fight the war. It was hit, kill and leave. When we would leave, the Viet Con would come out of their holes and hit us. Many of the South Vietnam people were killed for nothing. 
Nancy was pregnant. What to do/she had a girl. I stayed straight except for gambling. I put Shirley through hell because I would lose my $$. We had had many hard times through our married life and I've got to say, I caused most of it. But our love took charge and saw us through many hells. Their were as many fights between Blacks and Whites as there were with the enemy. One black did not like the chow his mess sargeant cooked this day, so he threw a grenade into his room. Multiply that a thousand times and you would have covered only one week, I stayed there for 11 months instead of 13. The war was winding down, we were beaten because of the egg heads in Washington. My orders came through. I was assigned to the University of Ohio as supply for their ROTC. What a break... We would live on campus. I left in Feb/Mar 1972. 
I called Shirley from Frisco. She had a TWIX waiting for me. I was re-assigned to Seneca Army Depot in New York. Assigned as Unit Supply with the 295th MP Co. I remained at that duty station until retirement which was 1 Dec 1973. A few months prior, we bought a trailer in Seneca Falls, N.Y. and have lived there till now (1990). As of now, Kathy has been married four times and has 4 children. Harry Jr. twice with four children. Chris once with four children. Rick once with two children. Nancy once with three. The children (Kathy, Harry and Nancy always returns to the nest. Chris and Rick have had good steady marriages. Nobody will ever separate the Morgan family. On 20th of Oct, Shirley and I had our wedding vows renewed. We always have and always will love each other to the fullest. 
THE END 11/10/1990

UPDATE: Added on by Nancy on 5/28/05
My parents now live in Dubois, Pa. where my sister Chris does who is still married but they are moving back to upstate N.Y. Harry Jr. married then later moved where  Rick lives in Killeen, Texas. Rick has since been divorced. Kathy still lives in Waterloo, N.Y. and I live in Waterloo N.Y. We are about 2 miles from each other. I got married on July 4th, 2002. The fireworks from that night still continues. We were meant to be.

UPDATE:

Parents moved back to central New York on June 5th, 2005. Mom passed away on March 8, 2006.