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)

A tragic mistake of our planes
We come to an area where a dozen men are cutting pine trees, to put over a hollow of f the hill. The captain who is a doctor said they are getting ready a field medics. We wonder why since we are the only company coming through. Our commander asked if they had encountered any enemy. He said a patrol of six came by to surrender. The captain suggests that we send out a squad to the woods ahead about half a mile. The squad I was in was commanded by sergeant Eddie Miller. We moved out but not willingly, it was cold and dreary. When we near the woods we take distance of three yards apart. Ushes the eighteen year old new replacement, with whom I have been last thirty days, is scared and is too close to me. I tell him to move away, but he stay close. I think of him back that day, when the chaplain said there was time only for general absolution. Ushes did understand it and wants to confess. I asked the chaplain to give him a moment and he put his arm around Ushes explaining to him general absolution. Walking away from the chaplain Ushes said he was not afraid any more. He told me that his family left the church. When he saw me praying the rosary he asked me to tell him how to say it. We said it the rosary together. I think about the day Ushes was on the truck of new replacements. I took a liking to him and told him we would dig together. We were in this wood area three days and had fox holes dug and log covered. We were waiting for a clear day for our bombers to come over. Ushes asked : ”where is the front ?”, I told him this was it. He looked at me confused, and I told him that in World War I they dug trenches and fought from them. I tell him that this is different. We dig fox holes but seldom get to use them. This is open firing wherever we are. We will dig in some times for protection against mortar and machine gun fire. The forty five replacements that got off the trucks are met by us. They all seem to be young fellows, they look clean shaven and their fatigues are fresh and new. There is no roll call or formation, us old timers take them in, knowing they are scared. We are getting acquainted and moving around our finished holes. We have been there long enough to chop down trees we put over the holes for extra protection. Everyone is out of the holes, it is about noon. Our planes are coming over. Suddenly exploding bombs and cracking pine trees. Ushes and I were near my hole, I dove in head first pulling him along. There is panic, crying and screaming for medics. One new replacement is pinned under the pine tree that snapped off pinning him to the ground. The big tree is leaning against another, no way to left it off but the fellow is dead. We count thirty four casualties, mostly new replacements. A sad experience for the first day in combat. I try to comfort him, and we both move around helping the medics to do his job. Our own planes drop bombs short. The Air Corps apologises by radio, a human error of judgement. I assure Ushes it doesn’t happen often, and that night we thank God for sparing us… Ushes is the first to die in the Hurtgen forest.
To be continued in november

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