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An
american soldier told about his war day by day, from hell
of Omaha to Hurtgen, in the ranks of the Big Red One |
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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) |
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Episode
23 : Germany
"I
guess if we fought a war in our homeland we would have better
rations..."
Par
John F. Mickey |
Americain
G. I. ration
There were no Mc Donald’s, no Wendy’s, not even
a taco place. We were not searching any kind of eating place,
but villages and cities for enemies and snipers. Usually the
best time to eat was at night, if one had any food and when
the fighting ceased. But it is dangerous to make any fire
that could be spotted by the enemy. On a dark night a strike
of a match can be seen for miles. Enemy planes would fly by
night dropping flares in areas where they expected we were.
Those flares would light up the ground as clear as |
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day
light; we would stop to wait for the flares to burn out. A
cough can be heard a half mile away on a still night. I never
heard anyone cough. Living like stray dogs in the wet and
winter days no one had a cold. We often wondered is that why
we had some sixteen shots given us. The german soldier had
a canteen filled with coffee and a part loaf of real dark
bread. One afternoon five of us came upon four of them. They
returned their fire and we had a half hour fight. We had three
casualties but no one dead, all of them were dead. I rolled
one man over to get his canteen, our was empty, it was full
of coffee. I filled my canteen and I took his bread; it tasted
like a pancake. I thanked him and I said a silent prayer for
him. They even had a plastic container of |
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A
G.I., who looked tired, had a break to eat some ration
Conseil général de Basse-Normandie/National
Archives USA |
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what
seemed to be margarine, but it was tasty. I guess if we fought
a war in our homeland we would have better rations also. Ours
was the C ration, in cans; the cans were about 10 oz. size.
In one that could be easily opened contained nine hard unsalted
crackers. In some was a tiny packet of instant coffee. The
other can had to be opened with a tiny can opener about 1.5
inch long. It contained hash, mostly potatoes, it tasted yuky
cold and had to be heated to enjoy. Except when we stayed
in an area more than a day, there was no given time to make
a fire to boil water and heat the hash. If one had made coffee,
it was passed on so each could have a sip. Getting up at day
break from a cold wet fox hole, having nothing warm to drink
or anything to eat was beyond comprehension. Our tank men
had a different ration it was the K ration. They occasionally
shared with us when they had some extras. It came in a waxed
box, there was a bitter chocolate bar that was very nutritious.
To follow in May
All
rights of the author of text and photographs
reserved. Excepted with authorization, reproduction and any
other use of works else than private or individual consultation
are prohibited.
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