John
F. Mickey was American, he was 35 in 1944 and lived in Michigan.
He did enlisted in september 1943, he thought he could do
some "job" in this war. When he enlisted he was
not expected for that kind of life : the long separation from
loved one, the horror of war, and even hunger and thirst.
All along the fightings he took notes, and many years later
he decided to write about sixty pages. John F. Mickey passed
away in 1989. With his son's permission, his memories are
told there. It is the experience of a "common" man
who believed in some human valours, and who fight for them
from the beaches of Normandy to the Hurtgen forest, in Germany,
where he had been wounded.
(John
F. Mickey's memories - 1944/1945) |
Even
birds fled the war
We did not see any live cattle. We did see dead cows and calves.
The animals usually kept inside somehow survived the bombing.
I don’t remember seeing or hearing birds. I wonder did
they follow people in evacuating their homes. These crowds
that flee out of the war zone, searching for safer grounds
in caravans of horse drawn carts and wagons, ox pulled wagons,
hand pushed baby carriages and bicycles loaded with people
and their belongings. One afternoon as we were resting, a
small brown dove perched on one of the guys knee. He picked
it up and gently petted it and fed it a dry cracker. When
we moved out the dove let us pet it and each got to hold it.
It stayed with us for three days. Sometimes let loose it perched
on a shoulder, helmet and back pack. It was the first bird
we had seen and we wondered how long it would stay with us.
On the morning next we were under german artillery fire. The
dove left and was never seen again. Could that dove have flown
to the enemy side to be petted?
Envying a casualty
Fear of being hit by a shell was always there, but on two
occasions I envied the casualty. One day near noon we were
in open terrain, able to see far away. Several of us were
close to the tank. The tank sergeant opened the hatch, and
standing up he was looking ahead through his binoculars. Enemy
shots came in, one hit the sergeant, his right arm dropped
before he did. Dennis the medics was near, we helped get the
sergeant off the tank. He was conscious all the time Dennis
worked on him. I held his head and he asked for a cigarette
that I lit and held to his lips. I did not say it but I envied
him for the loss of an arm that will take him back home eventually.
Another time we were in combat with enemy, and they had held
a white cloth indicating surrender, we ceased fire and a group
was coming out. Dennis the medics, I and another fellow were
crossing the dirt road when a german tank was coming down
the road in our direction. The tank gun fired one shot hitting
the third man in the left arm, it was hanging loose and he
lost consciousness. Dennis said : “you’ll have
to help me!”. I held the upper arm off the ground as
Dennis cut the muscle and ligament. Gettin quick attention
I am sure he survived, but again I was envious of him going
back out of that hellish life. One morning in a village, we
were running to take cover, our tank was hit through its weakest
spot. The tank men got out through the bottom hatch, and ammo
exploded, the noise was like a giant popper. And yet we envied
the tank men.
Six minutes before eleven
Around mid July the company was halted in a narrow dirt road,
secluded by hedges on both sides. Two bays about eight and
ten came to see what we were up to, they came from a near
farm house. Artillery shells were whistling over, the boys
dropped and I threw myself over them. One asked if it was
bosch, I was not sure but it could be American and I told
them to hurry back home. I began scratching a hole in the
hedge side for some kind of shelter. The captain thought it
was a good idea and asked all to dig in. It was tedious work
breaking the hedge roots by hand, to dig a niche rather than
a hole. It was getting dark and we were still digging. I stopped
satisfied with what I had and I went to help the captain.
He asked who was on the switch board, I told him Cicoli was
on and I will follow. We were exhausted but we stayed up late
talking. Looking at my watch it was six minutes before eleven.
I offered to take over for Cicoli, he insisted he would stay
on to the hour. Suddenly there was a cracking sound and an
explosion, we were hit. I dove into my niche head first, I
felt things hitting me. I heard screaming for medics, I rushed
for the switch board. It was under Cicoli, as I tried to lift
him off my hand was in his open chest. I ran to the nearest
platoon calling for medics who came by jeep. I help lift all
wounded on, the captain was able to sit up comforting the
others. I was the only survivor, the only one of six. At day
break I found two of the captains fingers. That tragic night
was the last time I saw the captain and the other four. I
never knew if anyone else died besides Cicoli. My life was
spared by only six minutes. A new commander took over and
four new replacements. No one ever mentioned that night ,
nor did I.
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