We had just overrun a good-sized town nestled in a German valley. Many of the houses were two stories high, and on this day that comes to mind, as I was looting the upstairs bedroom. My partner was a new replacement I was breaking in, telling him, “Take only the small stuff”. Looking back, it’s hard to imagine my frame of mind, and my priorities at that time. How did I become so blasé about my situation? So indifferent to my surroundings? I wasn’t very brave, just a plain G.I. Joe.
I guess after you have been on the line for as long as I was, you take it for granted that everything is going to turn out okay. The bedroom window faced the side of the valley, and my partner was standing guard. He was kneeling in the shadow of the room when he spotted a German patrol sneaking down the slope. They were not too far away. I told him to aim at one and shoot. I was trying to pry open a locked bureau drawer. The new man drew a bead and shot. He then said, “Got him!” to what I replied, “Good, let’s lam”.
I never did get that damn drawer open.
Editor’s note: research suggests that the town may be Olsberg, which the squadron captured in April 1945.