Also read "The Hardest Decision I Ever Had to Make," earlier in this series. Written by my father, a WWII War hero. Who to choose for a dangerous night patrol, and how to get back alive.

Janet

______________________

The second hardest decision I ever had to make
by Erwin A. Thompson

Normal military procedure in the camps where I was stationed in the States was for the non-commissioned officers to fall the company in for Reveille and take the report. This report was then turned in, either to a commissioned officer who was the "Duty Officer" or taken directly by either the first sergeant or the Charge Of Quarters to the Battalion headquarters.

One morning First Sergeant Dick was not to be found, and no one formed the company as a company and took the report. The platoons were formed by the individual platoon sergeants, but nothing was happening on a company level. This could be serious, as the Battalion Duty Officer would be down soon to find out why the required report was not in.

I was not the senior sergeant, but since none of the others was doing anything about it I asked one of my corporals to take the Third Platoon. I assumed the First Sergeant's position, gave the official command to "Fall in," and took the report from the platoon sergeants. I was then faced with the decision of what to do with it!

It was an agonizing decision. If Sergeant Dick turned up, without having gotten into unfavorable contact with the M. P.'s, turning him in as being absent without leave could be a serious and un-necessary problem. On the other hand, if he had been detained or did not show up within a reasonable period of time, having reported him as present or accounted for could have serious consequences for me!

Sergeant Patterson had been with the company since it had been formed in 1941 at Camp Robinson. I asked his opinion. He said it had to be my decision, but added the thought that they might make an example of Sergeant Dick. A new Post Commander was trying to show his authority by invoking strict military discipline. It was my memory of Patterson's own personal experience with "strict military discipline (detailed elsewhere in this chronicle) that tipped the balance of my decision.

I decided to turn it in as "All present or accounted for."

Having done this, I felt that I had better tell the Company Commander about it so that if he did not want to go along with my decision he could change it before things got completely out of hand.

Captain Yoe was in his undershirt, indulging in an officer's privilege of being a late riser. I had talked to Patterson about it before I made the decision. He was Regular Army, and one of the finest soldiers I knew. They had broken him a couple of years before for a thing that was completely needless. He said he thought that the "higher ups" might make an example of Sergeant Dick.

I relayed this to Captain Yoe. I remember saying: "You will never get another First Sergeant like Sergeant Dick!" He kind of smiled a little and said: "I might get one that would show up for Reveille." He went along with it, though, and figured out a way to cover us. He said: "When a man is on pass he is properly reported as present. We will consider that Sergeant Dick is on pass."

This was just one of the things that proved the bigness of the man. Not only agreeing with my decision, but figuring that Sergeant Dick had a pass coming, even if he had not taken it with him.

But then he asked a very obvious question: "Who is going to be our first sergeant today?"

I told him that thought I had enough understanding of the job to get by for the day, and I would be glad to try. He agreed. My one day's training at the Officer's Candidate School in Robinson was going to have to do the job!

It did. I got some help from the Battalion sergeant major. I had to make out four different morning reports that day to finally get one that would pass. One disadvantage, I had no experience with the "ground rules" of Camp Fannin. Also, I did not know what had taken place the day before that needed to get put into a morning report.

Sergeant Dick showed up about mid-morning, definitely with a hang-over. He would be a distinct disadvantage to himself and the company to be seen in the company area. Sergeant Carter was the supply sergeant. We fixed a bed back behind some other materials and settled our protege there in the supply room until he became presentable for viewing.

I surely did appreciate my brief exposure to the duties of first sergeant at the pre-OCS school.

THE HARDEST DECISION I EVER HAD TO MAKE
by Erwin A. Thompson
Sergeant "I" Company,
36th Armored Infantry Regiment, First Army

STOHLBURG, GERMANY

On November 8, I was told that the Company Commander wanted to see me. I went to the company headquarters, "Sergeant, “ he said, "Tonight you are to lead a patrol seven hundred yards ahead of our lines, and find out what we need to know about their strength and position."

He went on to detail the mission. We were to go down the railroad track that ran through the town, and proceed in the direction that our higher headquarters thought that the Germans were. He told me that another squad of our platoon had gone out a hundred and fifty yards the night before and found nothing. All "friendly fire" such as artillery would be "lifted" (discontinued) for the time that we were to be out.

I didn't like the sound of it. If there would be anywhere that the enemy would be watching, it would surely be the railroad tracks which were the most logical route ahead of us. I expressed my misgivings. "That is the order that came down from higher headquarters, and that is what you are going to do!" Was the answer that I got. The only thing that I could say was: "Yes Sir!"

So I went to my platoon leader, a lieutenant. Probably a first lieutenant. I believe that all officers in combat were at least first lieutenants. Just before we had left the States a new order had come out that a commissioned officer would lead all night patrols. I said: "I suppose that you are going to lead the patrol." He just laughed at me.

The one good thing that they did was to allow me to plan my own personnel. There was no doubt in my mind that we were nothing more than human bait. But we had a mission to fulfill. We were pawns in what could be a much more important game. If the outfit decided to push on, that decision would be based on the nformation gathered by our trip out in front of our lines. I really did not expect any of us to get back from it. I called the men together and told them the prospect ahead. I quote from my poem, "The Portrait of a Man.” I can't say it as well any other way.

I asked for volunteers to go
A place where no man should.
The boys just sat and looked at me
Likes statues made of wood.

'Just pick the men you want,” said Chick.
“We'll go, and never bat an eye.
But a man's a fool to volunteer
To go out there and die!”

Well, the rest of the men seemed to feel the same way. It was the hardest thing that I ever did. It was a twelve man squad, including me. I did not expect that any of us would return from this mission. If there would be anywhere that the Germans would be watching it would be that railroad track. Eleven men.

During the Civil War General Sherman is quoted as saying: "War is Hell!" Anyone who has been truly involved in combat would agree. I picked Chick and his partner "Tennessee." I thought that we needed at least three, in case there was a chance that one might get back with some useful information. That was one thing that I appreciated, they let me choose my men and the number I felt I needed.

One of the men got me aside later and told me that he had found out that the other squad had just gone out a few feet, laid down for an hour, and then come back. The suggestion was plain, but I didn't think I could do that. Suppose we did such a thing, and the outfit pushed on and got ambushed? Suppose? No, if we were going to have any chance of winning this war, we were going to have to actually do what we were supposed to be doing, or nothing would work right!

Back in the training centers they had taught us that we should use signals, like running our fingers over the teeth of a comb, or tapping on a matchbox to signal the other members of the patrol what our intentions were as to start or stop, and to go right or left, and so on.

This had not worked worth a damn in the training center where there were no distracting influences. Here there was artillery fire coming in—and anything else might happen. I had lost about half of my patrol back there at Camp Fannin one time! This was no place to take chances. The night was as dark as a black cat. We used a tent rope, with knots in it so that we could keep our proper distance. We made up a system of jerks to indicate our intentions to the other members of the patrol.

The appointed hour arrived. We were told to contact the men in the tank that were supposed to be guarding the railroad track. One thing that confused the issue was that they had changed the password. We were to communicate this to the men in the tank. We could not get any response from them. We had learned from others who had seen this happen, that if a soldier was asleep and got awakened suddenly he usually came awake with a gun blazing! We gave up, and went on about our mission.

Our engineers had installed an M-8 anti-personnel mine by the railroad track at our foremost position. We got into the left ditch and crawled under the trip wire (which went across the track) to start out down the track away from our lines.

We had gone perhaps a hundred yards when there was an explosion, and I felt the shrapnel biting into my flesh.

A journey into "Jerryland," (German held territory)
And hours until the dawn.
A ringing crash, and burning pain;

I knew that we were gone!
I called his name, but hand grenades
Was all that answered, there.
I found the other boy and thought
We didn't have a prayer.
Another hail of hand grenades
Each moment brought a-fresh;
And bits of shrapnel tore their way
Into our bleeding flesh.

We never did get an answer from Chick. By this time we had gotten over the shock of the attack enough to take cover in the ditch beside the tracks. I talked to Tennessee. He told me to go on back that he couldn't because his leg was broken. "I can't walk," he said.

I had no thought of getting out and leaving him. I said: "You can crawl, can't you?" He said, yes, but it was too far to crawl. We got going in the right direction, and after awhile we ventured up onto the tracks. He put his arm over my shoulder, with his bad leg next to me. We were out of range of the grenades, now, although they were still trying for us where we had been.

We were making pretty good time when he said: "Tiger, what about that mine?" I reached my hand out, and touched that trip wire!

So, I saved his life, and he saved both of ours. A passage of scripture came to me then: "He who shall save his life shall lose it --” Had I run headlong for the comparative safety of or lines, I would probably have forgotten about the trip wire.

He crawled under the wire in the ditch at the side of the tracks as we had come in. I still had no idea how bad I was hurt. I was awfully tired! I attributed this to the exertion of almost carrying Tennessee for the distance that we had traversed with three legs doing the work of four. I was going to rest awhile, and then go see if I could find Chick.

We made it back, it must have been
That God knew our distress
His arm across my shoulders
And both a bloody mess!"

When Tennessee crawled under the wire the tankers opened fire on him with their machine gun! They had never gotten the message that there was a patrol out!

The squad that was holding the position that we had left from got them to stop. Fortunately, the night was so dark that they had missed him completely.

By this time my wounds had stiffened up so badly that I realized I could not go find Chick. In fact, I couldn't go anywhere! Tennessee told them that I was out there, and the men from the squad came and pulled me under the trip wire and into the building that they were holding as part of the "line."

The next morning the Germans read Chick's dog tags over their radio that some of our troops could hear. When I got my Third Armored book after the war he was still listed as "missing in action."

We don't know where our buddy is,
Or even that he's dead.
We only know we miss him so --.
'Lost in action', is all they said.
---------------
The hardest decision that I ever made. Sixty-six years later I would make the same one. If I had it to do over, I would make the distance between us the distance of two tent ropes. Possibly it might have helped. Otherwise the death and the injuries will have to be charged to: "The fortunes of war."

The year my father was named Folk Treasure of Arts Across Illinois this song was captured on video in preparation for a TV show. It's haunting melody is filled with a genuine love of country. This song primarily portrays a young man's spirit and his desire to help create or preserve a free world.

See also: Dorothy Horstman, Sing Your Heart Out, Country Boy, New York, NY, 1976.

To see Erwin A. Thompson tellling this story of bravery in action...matter of factly and with gentle humor...go to www.thetelegraph.com. Tip: To avoid problems in streaming this video, you may wish to press the pause button on the screen and allow the entire video to load first before playing (watch for the progress of the gray line).

What follows is my transcription from the Telegraph's ongoing "Veterans Voices Series." It is Pop's story of the night he took out a patrol of three men in World War II, never expecting to come back, and almost didn't. He and another man saved each other's lives.

POP’S NIGHT PATROL STORY (transcribed from Veterans Voices Video at www.thetelegraph.com)

The captain called me and gave me this order and said to go down this railroad track 700 feet and find out if there was any enemy forces in place there.

It was pretty much a booby trap of an order because if there were any enemy forces anywhere around, that’s what they’d be watching would be the railroad track. I knew that and he knew that.

I said, “Captain, nobody but a fool would try that.”

He said, “Sergeant, those are your orders.”

So, they were my orders. We were fighting a war and we had to do something. We had to find out if the enemy was in command of that particular territory or not. I really didn’t think that we’d get back from there because of the situation.

I went to my platoon leader. Just before we’d gone overseas, they’d put out the order that a commissioned officer would lead all night patrols.

I said, “Well, Lieutenant, I guess you’re going to lead this patrol” and he laughed at me. So I knew where he was.

I was allowed to pick the men I wanted and the number of men. The man before me had gone out part of the way and had taken out his whole squad and I thought that was stupid. Why risk 12 men’s lives when you’re almost sure they won’t come back? Because we’d cover the area they’d covered the night before and another 400 yards in addition to that.

It was probably the hardest decision I had to ever make in my life, but I had to pick men to go with me. I decided that 3 men including myself would be the minimum they’d allow me to get by with.

So we set out. In order to get on the railroad track onto the other side of our lines we had to crawl under a trip wire which was stretched across the railroad track with an M-8 antipersonnel mine about 3 feet in the air which would have been the death of anybody who tripped the trip wire.

We went down the railroad track and we’d gone probably three-or-four-hundred yards when I tripped the trip the trip wire. We were walking and I didn’t stop. Anyway, I tripped the trip wire. That triggered an explosion of a kind they had figured for it.

The only good thing about it was that the railroad had ditches and we jumped into the nearest ditch. I never did hear from one of my men, Sicony. Anthony Sicony. "Chick" we called him. I said, “Chick, where are you?” He never answered.

Tennessee answered me and he was in the same ditch I was in, not too far away. He told me, “Tiger, go on and get out of here. My leg’s broke and I can’t move. But at least you can get out.”

I told him, “Either we’re going to both get out, or neither one of us is going to get out.”
He said, “I can’t walk.”

I said, “You can’t walk, but you can crawl.”

So we crawled and actually got out of their range. But, they could hear us talking and they kept firing hand grenades at us. But we got to the place where we were out of their range. We got up on the railroad track and walked. A three-legged deal. His one leg and my two.

We were walking down the railroad track and he said “Tiger, how about that trip wire?” ---for that antipersonnel mine that our own people had installed. I reached down and I touched that trip wire. If we’d taken one more step, we’d neither one of us never have gotten out of there.

So I saved his life and he saved mine.

We got down and he crawled under the wire. I thought I’d go back and see if I could find Chick, but I sat down and I was just awful tired. I hurt, but I was just awful tired, that was the main thing. I was awful tired. After I sat there a few minutes I couldn’t move.

He crawled out from under the wire there and there was a squad of men in control of the house. They came out and rescued him. I was stiffened up by that time and couldn’t move. They dragged me in there. Fortunately, we were in what’s known as a stable position they had medics and ambulances and so on. They patched us up as best they could and hauled us back out of the combat area.

I never did see Tennessee again. He went to a different place than I did for some reason or other. I never did hear from Chick. I got the Third Armor book the year I got out of the service and he was listed as missing in action. They never did officially list him as being…

[fade out and fade in as my father moves from discussing the field engagement to the damage done by that engagement.]

You could put your hand in one [wound] in my left knee here and right ankle. Your finger would just barely cover two pieces of flesh between my foot and my leg. The rest of it was torn up with shrapnel. I’ve got holes in my arm which people think are vaccinations, but I could show you where the shrapnel came out on the other side, some of it probably still in there. I had some in my leg, too. I had a piece in my jaw here. That’s one of the reasons I don’t shave. Because it didn’t heal up right and it’s hard to shave. So I started growing a beard years later when I could do that.

That’s about it. Three months in the hospital. The only reason I got well was because I went down there myself and got in the physical therapy tub because my trigger finger wouldn’t work. They found out that I had a piece of shrapnel in my third finger that kept my trigger finger from working. So they took the shrapnel out and sent me down to the PT place because of that.
That’s why I can walk today because of that hot water bath I gave myself.

As a musician, he chose to share two important songs from the time: "Remember Pearl Harbor," and "There's a Star-Spangled Banner Waving Somewhere" (below).

REMBEMBER PEARL HARBOR

Shortly after the attack on December 7, 1941 and America's entry in to the war, one of the first and the most classic World War Two patriotic songs was written by Don Reid and music by Reid and Sammy Kaye.

LET'S REMEMBER PEARL HARBOR,

AS WE GO TO MEET THE FOE!

LET'S REMEMBER PEARL HARBOR,

AS WE DID THE ALAMO!

WE'LL ALWAYS REMEMBER

HOW THEY DIED FOR LIBERTY.

LET'S REMEMBER PEARL HARBOR,

AND GO ON TO VICTORY!

My father is a combat veteran of World War Two. He earned the Combat Infantry Badge and was awarded the puple heart for injuries sustained near Stohlburg, Germany. He also received the Silver Star for "Gallantry in action above the call of duty" in this same contact with the opposing forces.

My father, Erwin A. Thompson, writes:

There are three stories connected with this song that make it far more valuable to me. The first two were general knowledge at the time, but probably have been covered up by the passage of time. The third one is personal.

1. The authors wrote the song for what was then called "country music;" not exactly what is called that today. Contrary to the ambitions of most composers, they wanted it to stay out of the popular music field. The song was so timely that it caught on far beyond the expectations of the authors. The big name bands started playing it. The authors actually tried to stop them!

2. Colin Kelly was a pilot in the Pacific. The Japanese shot his plane, and it burst into flames. Instead of bailing out with at least some hope of rescue he chose to use his burning plane as a weapon. He crashed the Japanese ship and sunk it.

3. I do not claim to have known the man that the song was written about, but it could have been JIM SHEETS. Jim was classified "1 B", which meant that he was non?combatant. He had terrible burn scars on his legs from some childhood accident. He was a corporal in the supply room, Company "C", 62nd Battalion, 13'th Regiment, Camp Robinson, Arkansas.

He felt much the same as the young man in the song. He spent all of his spare time watching the training and the drill; talking to the other non?commissioned officers. He finally convinced the brass that he could make a good field man, and was re-classified "1 A". Jim was a good man to work with and a firm friend. He made a good platoon sergeant. He gave his life for the country that he loved. I am sure that he found that "Star Spangled Banner Waving Somewhere!"

THERE'S A STAR SPANGLED BANNER WAVING SOMEWHERE

By Paul Roberts and Shelby Darnell

1

THERE'S A STAR SPANGLED BANNER WAVING SOMEWHERE

IN A DISTANT LAND, SO MANY MILES AWAY.

ONLY UNCLE SAM'S GREAT HEROES GET TO GO THERE,

WHERE I WISH THAT I COULD ALSO LIVE SOMEDAY.

I'D SEE LINCOLN, CUSTER, WASHINGTON, AND TERRY,

NATHAN HALE, AND COLIN KELLY TOO.

THERE'S A STAR SPANGLED BANNER WAVING SOMEWHERE,

WAVING O'ER THE LAND OF HEROES BRAVE AND TRUE!

2

IN THIS WAR WITH ITS MAD SCHEMES OF DESTRUCTION

OF OUR COUNTRY FAIR AND OUR SWEET LIBERTY,

BY THE MAD DICTATORS, LEADERS OF CORRUPTION

CAN'T THE U. S. USE A MOUNTAIN BOY LIKE ME?

GOD GAVE ME THE RIGHT TO BE A FREE AMERICAN,

AND FOR THAT RIGHT I'D GLADLY DIE.

THERE'S A STAR SPANGLED BANNER WAVING SOMEWHERE,

THAT'S WHERE I WANT TO LIVE WHEN I DIE!

3.

'THOUGH I REALIZE I AM CRIPPLED, THAT IS TRUE SIR,

DO NOT JUDGE MY COURAGE BY MY CRIPPLED LEG.

LET ME SHOW MY UNCLE SAM WHAT I CAN DO, SIR!

LET ME HELP TO TAKE THE AXIX DOWN A PEG!

IF I DO SOME GREAT DEED I WILL BE A HERO,

AND A HERO BRAVE IS WHAT I WANT TO BE.

THERE'S A STAR SPANGLED BANNER WAVING SOMEWHERE,

IN THAT HEAVEN THERE SHOULD BE A PLACE FOR ME!