1938
Our troops have moved out of the Anzio beachhead now, and this is what Art Koeppel thought about it:
"While I was waiting for the door of the LST to drop, while air raid bells were ringing and kraut planes were roaring overhead—when I was about to set foot on the beachhead .... I certainly didn't think that the day would ever come when I would be sorry to see it disappear. But now that the worst is over, I am. There is a definite element of levity-in the GI life on the beachhead and it all adds up to make that spot the craziest place in the world. After a few days of whistling shells and air raids, and when those days lengthen into weeks, somehow a guy develops a "what the hell" attitude. So while people in the States were reading of the destruction going on somewhere on the Anzio beachhead there were such things as these taking place.
"Stretched lazily along the foot of a seawall, GI's were lying half naked in the noon-day sun absorbing the warm rays and doing their best to soak up a sun tan. Not far off a few more were swimming about in the water. Still further away two more seafaring dogfaces 'requisitioned' a pontoon boat, or beach boat propelled by oars, and were moving along in the sea at a leisurely pace. And while all this was going on, within eyesight of all the participants and little more than a mile or so away, German shells were throwing up tall geysers of water as the Jerrys engaged in their sport of duck shooting. In other parts of the beach-head basketball games were in progress.
"Conspicuous by its absence was the female sex. Oh, sure, there Were nurses, but they were not roaming around on any road shows or moralebuilding performances. They had their work to do and they-did it well. With the female element lacking it was with no little surprise that, one day, more than one pair of hungry GI optics spied a pair of thin pink unmentionables flaunting defiantly and triumphantly in the breeze .... holding the spotlight on an otherwise empty clothesline. Upon further inquiry it turned out that said garment was discovered in one of the unoccupied homes, and the urge to startle had been just too much for the GI who spied them.
"Entertainment? Yes, there were band concerts (ranging from a solid sending jazz band made up of Yanks to a smart stepping gaily plaid-skirted Scotch drum and bag-piping outfit), and movies too. Going My Way reached us before the newspapers and magazines from the States arrived to talk about it. One evening in the wine cellar we had come to call home, we put on a show of our own, an anniversary performance of the revue many of us had presented in Africa. Singing songs—the old gay nineties type—ensemble and in duets—and some limericks that probably w;ould not pass censorship, and even a strip tease. The "stripteuse" was adorned in OD shorts, a lace curtain, and a carefully paper-stuffed brassiere. (Don't ask me where all these things came from). While the gang sang 'Queenie, the cutie of the burlesque show,' the Gl-psie Rose Lee stepped and discarded in time to the music in such a way that brought back fond memories to the patrons of the Republic and the Old Howard. While the show was going on, overhead those doggone noisy things were whistling and cracking. And before we'd finished the performance, the beautifully accurate ack-ack had roared up and down the coast like the accomplished fingers of a piano virtuoso.
"Shortly after the arrival of our forces there was vino and 'beaucoup' of it. (All you had to do was look for cellars with 'Off Limits' signs.) As a result, in the evening, when the work was over there was a careful check made to see if that day was anyone's birthday or if any other good reason could be found to have a party. The wine did not last long. The appearance of beer on the beachhead was given quite a bit of publicity. This was not free. And it wasn't Budweiser or Pabst. Some unappreciative apples mumbled something about pouring it back in the horse, but most of the ones who paid eight lire for a canteen cup of the brew liked it pretty well. One pleasant thing about the comforts there was the use of real honest-to-Pete bedsprings for the first time since leaving the States. Whether down in a cellar or on the second story of a building a fellow could knock off a beautiful forty winks or so. There were few alarm clocks and no need for a bugler. Reveille was supplied by the ack-ack crews. And when a guy gets hungry he manages to wake up for breakfast anyhow.
"Laundry was quite a problem. In addition to the nuisance factor, to say nothing of the elbow grease, one was never sure when he hung up the clothes to dry that either the garments or the line would be there after one of those doggone periods of shelling. The first couple of weeks were not very funny. Mid-morning 'breaks' were very short (the latrine being on ground level) and meals were eaten with little or no time out for a cigarette or a confab. But as time went on a real colony—GI-grew up and in it a real element of fraternity mixed with no small percentage of whackiness. One day I looked into the harbor and saw a broken-down but determined scowlike craft chugging along, pulling behind it two GI's aquaplaning. What a place."
I don't remember whether or not I've mentioned it before, but brother Koeppel is engaged to Shirley Smith (Rhode Island College of Education), and consequently eager to get back to the States. Sandy Mills is with the 38th Medical Bn. at Camp Grant, Ill. You all read last month where Bill Chamberlin was awarded the Navy Cross for "extraordinary heroism" on Tarawa when he reorganized and coordinated elements of his unit despite wounds in the neck and shoulder. He also received the Purple Heart. Lt. Bill Schopflin is serving as Ordnance Officer of an Antiaircraft unit near one of the larger bases in the Southwest Pacific. His duties consist of supervision and maintenance of all ordnance material for AA batteries of his unit scattered all over New Guinea. Bill got his commission at OCS in General Mac Arthur's command in June '43. Conrad Karras to Viola Korell of Long Island. Conrad is with the AAF. Russ Tolles got his promotion to Ist Lt., as has Gus Hennessey. Gus is with the AAF Replacement depot at Greensboro, N. C., where he is assistant classification officer. He is married to Sarah Marie Callahan, whose name is now Mrs. Hennessey. I've seen all sorts of notices saying that Keresey and Barbara Latham are engaged, but I guess they must be married, because they've had a honeymoon at Hot Springs. You are married, aren't you, Keress? In case I've missed any of the recent promotions, it's now Capt. Frank Doane, Lt. Whitey Mays, Capt. Bill Paull, Capt. Chuck Wiggin, Capt. Bill Watson, Lt. (jg) Am Smith, Lt. (jg) Art Robbins, Lt. (jg) Charley Keyes, Lt. (jg) Fran Reilly, Lt. (jg) Art Soule, Ens. Ed Goodkind, Capt. Frank Brett, Capt. El Taber, Capt. George Waterbury. Our boy, Young P. Dawkins is now a major. Right out of the paper comes the following: "Announcement was made of the marriage April 29 of Lt. Georgette J. Hatfield, Marine Corps Women's Reserve, daughter of Senator George Hatfield of California, and Mrs. Hatfield, to Major Robert D. Kelley, Marine Air Corps," etc. The bride is a Stanford U.
From Leatherhead Bob Reno comes word that !he's been assigned, inasmuch as he wanted to get 'into aviation, to the Jap language School at Camp Pendleton. There's one boy you won't see in Berlin. The Robert and Cora Emlens had a boy, George, who hit the air on May 13. That's another relative for Eml to talk about. Things are still quiet in the state of Florida. See you soon.
LATE FLASHES .... Sam Main and Bette Yoder of Goshen, Indiana, were married May 19. Sam is stationed at Camp Sibert, Alabama. The new Mrs. is from Stephens College and Northwestern. Lt. (jg) Charles Main, USCGR, was best man currently stationed at Charleston, S. C. For the first time since the activation of the Army Service Forces Training Center several captains of the Medical Administrative Corps have been selected to command Medical Training Battalions. Capt. Morrow Peyton is one of these new MAC commanders.... now at Camp Barkley, Texas. Dick Holt got his promotion to (jg) in the Pacific.
SCHOOLMATES, SHIPMATES, AND ROOMMATES, three Dartmouth men find themselves together on the same ship, in the same stateroom, and all three serving as "fighter directors." Left to right: Lt. F. Hight '36, Ens. R. T. Haslam '39, and Ens. W. F. Deal '39.
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