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) |
| War
is finished for these Germans
Moving cross country this night we came to a dirt road and
a wood bridge crossing a creek. It is dark, we hear the enemy
on the other side of the bank. We stop and keep low. The new
replacement next to me was holding a grenade about to throw
it, he has already pulled the pin. I stop him and ask if he
wants all of us killed. He asked : “what can I do I
don’t have the pin”. In his pack was an extra
pair of boot laces, I wrapped the shoe lace around holding
the trigger and told him to roll it down into the creek. Moving
around we found german dug fox holes some of us took over.
I was in the farthest hole on the line. I heard something
in front, I called out : “who goes there ?”, the
guy yelled out : ” goddam, don’t shoot wee are
engineers spreading barbed wire”. He said there were
six men. “Damit keep it down, the krauts are on the
other bank”, I told him. The enemy heard the noise of
the barbed wire, mortar shells came in, I hit the dirt and
I prayed. More shells came in and suddenly it was quiet. At
day break I saw the big hole to my left where the mortar hit.
We gather crawling low and we are told three of the engineers
were hit. We moved out to surprise the enemy but we don’t
cross the bridge. Farther down we came to where the creek
narrows, and we wade over to the other side. We attack finding
them unaware we were there. We exchange fire but they quickly
surrendered, our platoon outnumbered their squad. They are
very surprised that we are far in their country, like other
small groups were disoriented. This squad seemed relieved
that the fighting was over for them, it was for them but not
for us.
The day of
a company runner
Late one night, the commander was unable to contact a platoon.
I was ordered to go to make contact. It was a bright moon
night, I moved along the hedge side of the dirt road, avoiding
being a sniper target. When I reached the platoons area no
one challenged me. The man on watch and on the phone was sound
asleep. I waited until he made contact with the commander
before leaving. I returned to make my report, hoping to get
a few hours of sleep, but hearing the captain chew out the
platoon leader. I did not find it easy to make a bad report
but I was expected to report accurately. A runners job is
scary, he moves alone any hour of the day or night, no one
is there to cover him and no one to help him if injured.
|
