On To Europe

Toward the end of training at Camp White, the men of the 300th Engineer Combat Battalion understood that an invasion of Europe was inevitable. Germans occupied almost all of Europe. The occupation included 58 German divisions, half of which were somewhat weak coastal defenses, while the remaining ten armored and 17 infantry divisions were ill-equipped and under-manned.

Not knowing where or when, the 300th suspected the time was close when they left Camp White by troop train. There was some good spirit among the men. Although they knew little of where they were headed, they did know they were headed east which told them they were not headed to the South Pacific but instead they were likely to be heading to Europe. They could not have imagined the grueling and dangerous times ahead.

The train trip was long and tedious. Under threat of court-martial, they rode with the window curtains closed most of the time. The troop train traveled from Camp White to Portland, Oregon and then through Washington, Idaho, Montana, the Dakotas, Iowa to Chicago, IL. On the outskirts of major cities, the train would stop long enough for the men to detrain for simple calisthenics and a few moments to loosen up. Contact with civilians was forbidden except the simple courtesies of hello, thank you and goodbye as German spies were believed to be in the States and looking for any intelligence they could gather. The train then went into Canada at Detroit and down the Hudson River to Camp Shanks, New York where the 300th stayed more than a week before shipping out. Camp Shanks was on the Hudson River just a few miles north of New York City.

They boarded a ship at Pier #92 that they later learned to be the Queen Mary on December 3, 1943 bound for England. Captain Bisset was the Ship Commander with a British crew of 1,087 and 11,907 troops aboard. Hitler offered a one million Reichs-Mark reward to the U-Boat commander that sank the Queen Mary. Obviously, the reward was never collected. There was a coin toss aboard the Queen Mary between Major John Burfening, the commanding officer of the 207th Engineers, and Major Riel Crandall, commanding officer of the 300th Engineers deciding who would have MP (military police) or KP (kitchen police) duty. Crandall won and chose MP duty which mostly involved keeping the troops moving toward the chow line and then returning to their bunks or sleeping location. With nearly 12,000 troops aboard, kidney stew, brussel sprouts and bitter marmalade was standard fare. The Queen Mary zigzagged her way across the Atlantic Ocean changing course every seven miles. She averaged 26.98 knots and covered the 3,540 mile trip in five and a half days arriving on December 9, 1943 in Gourock, Scotland near Glasgow. The 300th boarded troop trains for an all night trip to Reading, England and finally moved by truck convoy to Devises, England, a town about 50 miles southwest of London, arriving on December 12.

Going to Europe; from a presentation by Colonel Riel Crandall at a 300th Reunion in 1996:

We got on a train [at Camp White] and when the train pulled out I told the men we were headed for Camp Shanks, New York and probably that means we would be going to North Africa or Europe. We got to Camp Shanks and all of you got promoted from Engineers to MP's and we got on the Queen Mary. We were to be the MP's for the trip. We got to Scotland and after everyone got off the ship we stayed on another day until a bunch of British pilots came on board and took over our duties. They were going to be taken to the U.S. for special pilot training.

300th Engineer Warren Chancellor describes the trip to England:

We took a short train trip from Camp Shanks to the docks in N. Y. Under complete secrecy, we boarded our ship. We were not able to see the ship until we were on board and then we discovered it was the Queen Mary which had been converted into a troop ship

Our unit was selected to serve as Military Police for the voyage. Food was terrible (British), lots of kidney stew and a very bitter orange marmalade. We were given only two meals a day. There were over 11,000 troops on the ship and it took all day to serve two meals to that many troops. The ship went unescorted and five days and nights later we dropped anchor just off the coast of Grennock, Scotland. We went ashore on "tenders" and boarded a train. Some 24 hours later, we arrived at Devizes, England, not far from London. We were there for only a short period of time and spent Christmas there, however I think that most of us did not even realize that it was Christmas [1943].

Don Richter describes his not so pleasant introduction to England:

The train kept the southerly route throughout the day and through the night, stopping sporadically on sidings to allow trains of higher priority to pass, until the next day it came to a stop in dingy town. On the station was a sign saying "Devizes." We were not sure that it was the name of our destination until we received the order to dismount the train with all of our belongings. We fell into formation beside the train and were marched through cobblestone streets to a military compound at the edge of town where we were told to fall out and occupy one of the barracks. The building contained crude beds with straw filled mattresses and little else.

From nowhere appeared a tousled kid in ragged clothes and with the foulest of mouths even to this group of soldiers. He immediately got around to his mission of offering his sister's favors to all of us that would at the price of a shilling. He was informed that we were confined to the barrack for the present and would have to decline.

After being called to the mess hall for limey rations, we returned to the barrack where Sgt. Parker lectured us on proper behavior in this land of England as we were guests. Some time later Lt. Orville Lutz came in wearing his trench coat telling us of going into the blackout and foggy town of Devizes for a while during which, he said, that he had been raped while standing in the doorway of a building. We of the Third Platoon thought surely that the lieutenant was spinning a yarn but just maybe he was telling the truth. Taps sounded and we went to bed in this strange town in a strange land wondering just what was ahead for us.

Later in the night I was awakened by the mournful wail of air raid sirens followed by the distant drone of aircraft engines and then the thump, thump of bombs exploding in the distance. Search lights plied the sky toward the east as I stepped outside the barrack and occasionally caught a plane in the beam as well as Ack Ack exploding in efforts to knock the attackers out of the air. The activity moved away and soon subsided to stillness. Surely there was no doubt that we were in the war already.

Reveille sounded while it was still very dark and all was in blackout. We moved quietly to the mess hall for breakfast after which our mess kits were inspected by an officer to make sure that no food was wasted. Here in England food was a rare commodity and was considered a war supply not to be wasted at all. After breakfast we went to the building marked "Ablutions" which we learned meant latrine and showers. It was barely light when the order to fall in was issued and we departed the camp for a hike through the streets of the town of Devizes and out into the countryside.

Don Richter describes Christmas 1943:

Pvt. Kersey Putman and Cpl. Don Richter on KP duty in Devizes, England, Christmas Day 1943. Photo: Don Richter

I recall Christmas 1943 we were in Devizes for Christmas and I served on a KP with Kirksey Putnam. In the morning while we were helping the cooks prepare the holiday meal, Lieut. Orville Lutz, platoon commander of third platoon of Company B, a real fine gentleman and leader, came into the kitchen and picked up a couple of big spoons and started beating out a tune on all of the big pans and pots. Before coming into the U.S. Army, Lt. Lutz had been a drummer in the Phil Harris Orchestra and he was trying to use his profession to cheer up we poor guys who had to be on KP Christmas day. We did serve turkey, dressing and all the trimmings we would have had at home, but later many of the men, including myself, became very sick as some of the turkeys were spoiled. Anyway we all survived that Christmas away from home.

Left to right: Jack Burk, Olan Stokes, Ben L. White, Charles Cudy, and Earl Reynolds at Christmas dinne,r Devizes, England, December 25, 1943. Photo:

James Kennedy remembers the food on the Queen Mary:

I don't remember much except the kidney stew. The food was atrocious. We had the run of the ship because we were the MPs and I'm afraid I took every advantage of it because I enjoyed the heck out of it. I'd never been on a ship. There were very rare occasions that I did not enjoy being in the service. I had never been out of town much from my little community except maybe a football game, two miles. Occasionally my family would carry me to Natach, Mississippi - 150 miles. I enjoyed what I did in the service even when it got bad. Most of the bad things were attitude that you could overcome.

Billy Byers describes the trip to England and training while he was there:

We went over to England on the Queen Mary. There were maybe 16,000 men on that boat. We were the MPs for the trip. We slept in shifts in rooms about 8 feet square with bunks all up on each side. You could just barely move to get in and out of there. The food, they called it kidney stew, you couldn't believe how bad that was. It was terrible. We finally landed in Scotland and then wound up in Bristol, England where we trained night and day for two or three weeks. We really did get good at it. We were training in building bridges. It may have saved some of us because we were supposed to be the first to go over. But, the 299th couldn't compare with us building bridges so they went over first and they saved us for later to go in and build bridges. Many of the 299th didn't make it.

Combat engineers had high moral. They considered themselves, rightly so, specialists. But they also could, and later did, act as infantry; especially in the Battle of the Bulge. Engineer special service regiments had skilled construction personnel and assigned heavy equipment. They also were specialists in topography, water supply and railway.

Domingo Muniz describes his trip to England:

I went over on that big cruise ship. We loaded up on December 1 and sailed for England on December 3. It was a big ship, carrying thousands of man. We went to Reading, England for training in steel bridges. We took three hours and 45 minutes to build one bridge and to break the bridge down it took only two hours and 45 minutes. But we were running all the time. It was hard work but we made it. We had only two days training in heavy ponton bridges. That's all the training we had but it was really easy to build them.

Digging ditches in Tent City, Swindon, England. Photo: Harold Palmer

The 300th was attached to the 1110th Engineer Combat Group while in England. Other units attached to the 1110th were: 148th & 207th Combat Engineer Battalions; 631st Engineer Light Equipment Company; and the 989th Engineer Treadway Bridge Company. The 1110th, under the command of Lt. Col. Daniel Spengler, was headquartered at Sonning, Berkshire, England.

Oliver Cromwell Church in Maple Durham, England. Photo: Harold Palmer

The 1110th, including the 300th, had specialized training in building Treadway and Bailey bridges and erection and removal of bridges in all kinds of weather conditions during the day and at night. They also had training in road construction and maintenance, use and maintenance of power equipment and in laying and removing minefields.

The 300th moved to various locations in England constructing a camp at Bristol, a gasoline station at Westbury and a railhead at Sparkford. They also built and maintained roads for a station hospital at Haydens Park.

In May of 1944, the men and equipment of the 300th were divided into three groups. Each group was made up of men from Company A, B and C along with Headquarters and Service Company. They were divided up in the event that if an LST was lost, no one company would be incapacitated. Thus began the wait for the journey across the English Channel and the inevitable invasion of the German-occupied territories in Europe.

We built bridges; from a presentation by Colonel Riel Crandall at a 300th Reunion in 1996:

The 300th training in England - bridge building on the Thames. Photo: Harold Palmer We moved out to some real delightful, plush surroundings - some nice tents in Swindon, England, to enjoy the rest of the English winter. We were training at the Thames River. We built so many bridges over the Thames to where I don't know how much steel is still on the bottom of the river, particularly those pins from the Treadways that we dropped.

Donald Richter, 300th veteran, recalled his memories of the days before the Normandy invasion. The battalion was quartered in a tent camp near Swindon, England where they had trained primarily in bridge building and laying and clearing mine fields:

It was good to be active again and the old English structures dating to the 15th and 16th century were most impressive. Back at camp each squad was issued a truck with full equipment and we went about familiarizing ourselves with it. Drivers were trained to stay on the left side of the road which was quite difficult for some. It was quite a terrifying experience at first to whiz along in the left lane of two lane roads and meet oncoming traffic on the right side.

After a few days, Lt. Orville Lutz announced to the men of the third platoon that we would be moving to a small camp called Shootend near the city of Salisbury. We loaded all of our possessions and equipment onto our new truck and off we went on the left side of the road over hill and dale toward our new home. Soon I noticed off to the side of the road a strange arrangement of very large stones in a sort of circular design. I recalled something like this from world history - this must be Stonehenge. Surely it was. We moved on to Salisbury and some three miles on South to Camp Shootend. This was our home for several weeks during which we built enough duckboard for the whole U.S. Army.

Evenings and weekends we were free to go into Salisbury and visit its finer points such as the great cathedral and the lively pubs. One day we went south to Southampton, the large seaport, to pick up materials. I suffered a severe attack of dysentery while we were at Camp Shootend and Lt. Lutz recognized my plight and allowed me to stay in bed for several days. I fear that the after effects of this illness stayed with me much of my life.

We returned to the rest of the battalion and constructed a tent city near Swindon. Here we continue training on the Salisbury Plain. We went to the Thames River near Reading for training in the construction of the Floating Bailey Bridge and other training missions to shape us up for the war in Europe. During this time our Commanding Officer Maj. Riel Crandall was replaced as our commanding officer by Maj. John Tucker, the protégé of group commander, Col. Daniel Spangler. This was a very unhappy time for the men of the 300th and almost resulted in the death of all of us. Actually those two thought they could win the war alone with the lives of their men. It really cost them their lives as Maj. Tucker was killed by an 88 shell and Col. Spangler by machine gun fire in Normandy. Maj. Crandall then resumed command of 300th and all was better again.

We could see that training activities of all units were reaching a high point in May 1944. Surely the invasion would come soon. We heard rumors that we would be involved very early in the landings in France. Such was the mission of combat engineers.

In mid-May, I believe, we were assembled with all of our trucks loaded with men and equipment. We were told that we would receive assault landing training in preparation for an invasion somewhere in Europe. We waited and waited and finally were ordered to dismount since we would not be receiving assault training as the assignment had gone to our sister outfit, the 299th. We were relieved but somewhat disappointed.

Each night we witnessed aircraft taking off pulling large gliders and later returning. We assumed that this was training for an invasion on the continent. The number of aircraft towing gliders was much greater on the night of June 5th and the aircraft returned without their tows [of gliders]. This was a sign to us that the invasion had begun without us. Later in the morning, radios in the company area carried the address of General Eisenhower telling his troops in England that D-Day was indeed at hand and that a huge armada of ships along with airborne troops had begun to invade France. He said that all of us would soon be joining in the battle to free Europe from the control of Nazi Germany.

Most of us, I believe, had mixed feelings. While we were relieved at not having to participate in the initial landing on D-Day, we were also just a bit let down for not being called upon to participate in the greatest military assault in the history of mankind.

Competition; from a presentation by Colonel Riel Crandall at a 300th Reunion in 1996:

A square in London. Photo: Harold Palmer In England, that's when we really got into this bridge building training for the invasion. I remember competitions between company commanders on how long it took to get a bridge built and take it back down. There were some sizable bets. I wasn't supposed to know about it but you would be amazed what you learn if you just listen. You would find out things that it might be better if you didn't know.

Chuck Bice at the Half Moon Bar and Hotel:

We were in Reading, England. There was the Half Moon Bar and Hotel in town and we were billeted outside of town a few miles. I was squad sergeant and I would usually take about five guys and we would go into town. Well, we'd get a little happy and start telling stories. One night we were there and maybe a little bit louder and the girl called the MPs. Two of them came in and we said just join the party - have fun with us and they sat there for a little while and they left. They saw we weren't really that bad.

So, I guess we got a little worse and the old gal slapped Jack Northcott who was just a real easy going boy. Man, he drawed back and he was going to hit her with one lick. Our buddy, J. D. Walton grabbed his fist and it throwed him right around. So, the gal ran and called the MPs and said, "Don't send two or three, send a truckload." So, I said, "OK boys, let's go out the back and we will count them as they come in. Gosh all mighty, a truckload come bailing off of there and come in there. We didn't stay to see anything and took off across the pastures back to camp.

The next morning, little old Lt. Mellenkamp, a nice little ole guy, younger than me came up and said, "Did you guys go in town last night?" I said, "Yes sir." He said, "Have a big time?" I said, "We had a pretty good time." He said, "You all tear anything up?" I said, "Oh no, we just had a good time." He said, "I knew that you had because the MPs come out looking for five big men and a little buck sergeant. I knew exactly who he was talking about. I told them all my men were in bed." The five big guys were Jack Northcott, J.D. Walton, W.W. Jones, Norman Webb and John Rekich. Rekich was a great big ole Russian, a really good guy.

Chuck Bice was tempted:

At the Half Moon Bar and Hotel, we were there one night and John Rekich was with us. He was my buddy. I was his squad leader and had befriended him when he to the company in Oregon as a replacement and a Yankee. He was my assistant squad leader because he was there for me for anything. We were in there one night and I told him, "I'm married and I do not want to go home with any of these gals. So you listen to me now. It would be bad for you if you let me go off with any of these little old girls. I'm telling you while I'm sober."

We were in there later and boy a little ole doll, sixteen years old, latched on to me and was going to take me home with her. Well, I wasn't going to put up too much resistance because I was already feeling pretty good. John says, "No, he can't go because he's married." She said, "That's good." John said, "He can't go, he's married." We almost got into a fight. They had to separate us. They had to separate us and take me outside. The next morning he said, "Sarge, please don't do that to me again. Those people thought there was something wrong with us.

Kenneth "Cowboy" Morris remembers several incidents in England with his friend Joe Oliver:

Well, I'll tell you. I was supposed to be hauling cinders building a road in Bristol, England. Joe Oliver was with me so I said, "Joe, let's just take off and go out and visit some of these friendly people." This horse and wagon was delivering milk in this little ole town. This lady would stop and deliver a pitcher of milk to a house and then go to the next house. So we watched for awhile and we had to go back. So we started up the truck and BOOM - the truck backfired. Well, this horse jumped and took off spilling milk all over the road.

We were in England and Joe was on guard duty. When he got back he was quite drunk. I said, "You go get into my pup tent." So he goes in there and I heard all this hollering and he tore the tent apart. He went in the tent and there was a porcupine in there. He tore that tent all to pieces.

We had a real long stretch of bridge way up there so I said to Joe, "Let's go across that bridge." There was a guard on there and he said, "That load's too heavy." So I said, "No it ain't. Just stores and stuff so get out of the way and we're going over." And Joe was backing me up. So we got out there in the middle of that bridge and it was way down there and the bridge kind of bouncing and swinging. We were scared to death and ole Joe said, "I'm going to make a deal with you. If I don't make it back, you go see my mother and if you don't make it back, I'll go see your mother." Joe didn't make it back and I never did get to see his mother. It bothered me but I didn't even know where he was from. He was killed on the LST [523].

Hoyt Neill's leggings as told by Warren Chancellor:

Hoyt Neill had seen a lot of the GIs with bleached leggings and he decided they looked good so he thought he would try them himself. He thought they would look smart with the dress uniform. So he got a large bucket and filled it with water and got some very strong bleach, powdered bleach, and put an excessive amount in the water. Then he put his leggings in and left them overnight. Well, the next morning he reached in there to the bucket to get his leggings out. They literally fell into pieces. The bleach had completely destroyed all of the thread that sewed them together. He was forced to buy a new set of leggings for himself. That was something we had to do. If we destroyed something we had to replace it.

James Kennedy remembers Thanksgiving in England in 1943:

The day before Thanksgiving another soldier and I by the name of Scottie went to the USO. I don't know if he was in the engineers are not. We took control of the ping-pong table. He was a lot better player than I was. We kept one table occupied with one of us on it all the time. We just beat everyone that came in. By one o'clock in the morning everyone quit. So here comes the lady in charge and we said to her we don't have a place to stay and can we please sleep on the ping-pong tables and she said ok.

We slept longer than we should have and we woke up smelling that turkey being cooked. When the lady came back in to get us we said we were hungry. So she cut us off two huge turkey legs and when we opened the door to leave there must've been a half-mile of soldiers lined up there for their Thanksgiving dinner. So we walked down eating the turkey. They cheered us at first but the longer we went the more they cursed us. That was one of my highlights of the war. And then we went down and talked someone out of a bottle of Portuguese rum, which we shouldn't have. We ate that turkey leg and drank that rum and really got soused.

Randy Hanes describes a cool reception in England:

One Sunday evening, a couple of the guys and I decided to attend church services at the local church in Devises, England. We put on our dress uniforms and walked about a quarter mile to the church. I'm not sure but I think it was an Episcopal church. We felt that attending a real church instead of the services held on base by an Army chaplain would be more spiritually uplifting. When we arrived for the evening services, we sought pews at the back of the church.

I will never forget the cold reaction from the church members and the look of disbelief on their faces. They glowered at us as if we were invading their sacred space and wearing Nazi uniforms. This was very un-nerving to us and them - the feeling that we did not belong. I approached the vicar after the service telling him that we felt that the members resented our being there and that all we were seeking was some religious comforting. He apologized for our feeling and asked us to come back whenever we felt like it. We never went back.

Alfred Stein was a replacement engineer joining the 300th in Europe after the Normandy Invasion:

I was inducted into the Army on January 21, 1942 and served stateside at Fort Sill, Oklahoma training in field artillery. On February 29, 1944, I departed for the ETO aboard the H.M.S. Arawa docked in New York. We were the first troops to board and were assigned to guard duty and defense. We were fed British food. Terrible stuff - few ate it. We lived on PX rations until they sold out. Worst of all, the coffee was like weak tea. The British crew was probably hoarding the U.S. rations for the black market in England. The few officers on board in the main deck rooms were getting eggs and bacon though I never saw an officer or even another non-com. We could buy a sandwich or a piece of fruit for $5.00. When the PX rations were gone in a few days, most of the G.I.'s were getting hard to control. Some wound up in the brig after it was cleaned out of the Enfield rifles and ammo.

Men were losing weight. By the time we reached England, one man in my group could put his helmet within the waist of his pants. The gangway to the upper deck was puke from stem to stern. Once the crew spread sawdust, I could brace myself and slide the full length to exit. My supply of lemon drops kept me puke free. The convoy was attacked one night. There was a huge explosion and you could feel the surge of power combined with the zigzag course. Come morning the Arawa was alone. Nothing was in sight.

By the time we arrived in Wales all the troops were pretty well showing the loss of weight. We arrived March 19, 1944. Two and a half weeks to cross the north Atlantic. We were settled in a camp of barracks with homemade double bunks that were too short for G.I.'s. At night the anti-aircraft fire and cordite fumes left us to spend the night further west to be more distant from London.

We were moved to a field area living in pyramidal tents not far from the Channel. Ilfracome and Wilacome were two of the nearby towns. From there we could make a trip to London. The last week in May we packed up, received rifles and ammo and ran three nights of live fire courses followed by days of running up and down sand dunes some place. We had been assigned to LSI 711 but that ship did not show up. Eventually, around 20 June, we boarded the Isle of Mann ferry boat to land in France. The ship had the promenade decks boarded up and a large iron caldron of hot water a mid-ship.

We laid parallel to the beach for three days due to rough seas from a lingering storm. After our three days of rations were gone, a large tank barge drew up to our shore side and as we surged up and down, we, one at a time, jumped to a pile of barrack bags in the center of the landing craft. Our hopes of making the beach without getting our feet wet did not happen. Another failed expectation. A day or two later, 26 June, 1944 many of us were assigned to the 300th combat engineers. I joined the 300th as a replacement in Co. A, 1st squad, 3rd platoon. This platoon was all replacements except Alton Smith and Pablo Hernandez due to the loss of the men on LST 523.

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