WHAT AM I DOING HERE? by Dr. LeRoy Maleck O.D. is Book III and potentially the most moving of his life experiences. This book contains the recollections of that time in life when a 22 year old army combat infantry medic was forced to rapidly mature and change forever. The author's first person style and account clearly comes from being there. This book chronicles his entry into the army as seen by a new recruit. The true account continues through basic training, continued training and the introduction to army life and situations that seem as a satire and have humorous moments. Follow his journey with the 137th Infantry Regiment, aboard a troop ship to England. Then in early July, D Day + 28 Days, his Regiment is on Omaha Beach. Roughly 11 days later he, with his unit is engaged in something his training could not prepare him for, combat with a determined, entrenched enemy. Follow the exploits of war through the eyes of a combat infantry medic who went through, survived, and helped others survive of some of the most brutal battles faced by the U.S. Army in World War II, Including the Northern France Campaign and the Battle of the Bulge. In addition to an army combat medic's first person account of his participation in World War II, the author has included a sorry about a rather amazing four legged friend, Speed. Speed was his Uncle Bill's dog, companion, and often hunting partner. In contrast to the War chronicles you may find this amazing heartwarming and just a great sorry about a truly amazing dog.
WHAT AM I DOING HERE?
TRUE ADVENTURES WHILE SURVIVING 1172 DAYS IN THE U.S. ARMY DURING WW-IIBy LeRoy R. MaleckAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2009 Carl Brice
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4389-7906-9Contents
Introduction..................................................71. Induction Day, Day One.....................................102. Deep in the Heart of.......................................173. Officers and Gentlemen.....................................274. Hollywood Commandos........................................345. Assignments and Realizations...............................426. Eastern Bound..............................................537. The Normandy Campaign......................................678. The Breakout...............................................1149. The Northern France Campaign...............................120P. Photograph Section.........................................16110. The Ardennes, The Battle of the Bulge.....................17811. The Rhineland.............................................201Prologue......................................................230Photo and Source Credits......................................291Special Thanks................................................292Book II "SPEED"..............................................233
Chapter One
Induction Day, Day One
Monday morning, August 17, 1942, bright eyed and bushy tailed, I left the house at 2718 No. Whipple Street, and headed for the elevated train terminal in Logan Square.
It was quite warm, and I wore the minimum amount of clothing, I had already given most of my clothes to my older brother Art, as he could fit into some of them. My destination was the US Army Induction Center, located just outside of the Chicago Loop area. I think it was a converted clothing factory, about six stories tall, and covered most of the block.
Breathing deeply, I took one last, long, lingering look at the area, as I felt that I would never pass this way again. After entering and signing in, the well known "hurry up and wait" routine of the Army began.
Along with hundreds of draftee's and enlistee's clad only in their under shorts, I was given an "intense and personal" physical examination. A lot of "sick" jokes were passed around. If you are warm and can move, why you are in! When they used the otoscope to shine the light in your ear, you are in, so long as the light didn't pass through the head, and shine out the other ear! It was also rumored, that they had once inducted an armless man and a totally blind man. They were paired together for water pumping duty. To avoid wasting manpower, the blind man worked the pump handle, and the armless man was to observe, and tell when the buckets were full! This is the Army!
After about an hour of the "hurry, and wait" we were led to a quieter area and were "sworn in". The oath you swear is very much like the one the President makes on inauguration day. We were then marched about two blocks to the LaSalle Street railroad station, where we boarded some antique passenger cars behind an old steam engine. We were headed for Camp Grant, which I believe was near Rockford, Illinois.
It was very hot, so the train windows were opened to catch any breeze. What we got mostly, was smoke and hot cinders from the steam engine's boiler. We passed through many small towns and saw a lot of farms. I guess the residents knew where this train was headed, as they waved to us very vigorously.
Our train slowed down, and we did some switching maneuvers, and when we stopped, it was on a long side track, in the middle of Camp Grant.
We de-trained and were quickly hustled to a barracks, and were told to remain inside, until further ordered. It was stifling hot inside, and even worse outside in the bright sun. We didn't have to wait very long for further orders to arrive. A high pitched loud voice from a partly opened door demanded that we "fall in" to the nearby black cinder covered drill field. Those black cinders were giving off shimmering curtains of torrid air, distorting the view of the buildings across the field.
That loud voice came from a mean three striped uniform clad body that was quick to inform us that he was a Sergeant, and was our "boss". We are to do as we are told, and without question, and then, maybe, just maybe we might get along in this man's Army.
He also said that he can't make us do anything, but he sure as hell could make us wish we had! I could see disaster in the making, and wanted no part of it. The attitude of some of the draftees was very different than the more patriotic, volunteering enlistee.
We marched to a long white wooden building where we were given written 'Intelligence Quota' tests. There were two separate tests, each had 150 questions with 5 multiple choice answers. The first test was titled "General Intelligence," and the second was "Mechanical Intelligence"
We had an hour to complete each test. I was able to finish each test, with time to spare, much to the bewilderment of the soldiers monitoring the room. They wanted to know why I wasn't working on the sheets, instead of gazing out the window. I informed them that I had finished.
Weeks later, I found that I had done rather well. Out of a possible 150, I had gotten a 143 on the General, and 139 on the Mechanical.
Then it was back to the drill field. We were then given the basics of "short order" drill on those black smoldering cinders.
The blistering heat penetrating the soles of my sneakers was almost unbearable. We were instructed how to use the right or left arm and fingertips to establish the proper distance from each other when "falling" into a formation and to form straight rows of bodies.
To stand at "attention" you put your heels together, toes apart, arms at your sides, stomach in, chest out, chin in, shoulders back and eyes straight ahead. He also made some attempts at teaching "right face", "left face" and "about face". I was surprised at learning how many boys or men that didn't know "right" from "left"!
We were then given a "crash" course in Army rules, regulations and terminology. The toilet was now a latrine, where you slept, was the barracks, where you ate, was the mess hall, and the camp store was the PX! The dispensary is where you go when you are sick or injured.
Soon we were ordered to "fall out" and follow a one striped private to the dispensary where we were given in rapid succession, Tetanus, Typhoid and Small Pox immunizations. It was in the front door and out the back!
Some of these big, tough and burly looking guys didn't make it to the back door. They just "passed out" at the sight of those syringes and needles. No problem however, when they hit the floor, they were then given their quota of "shots" and then dragged out of the rear door and placed on the lawn in the hot sun.
We received our "shots" as our names were called, alphabetically. My last name, starting with an "M", sort of put me in the middle of the melee. When I finally made it out the rear door, there were about a dozen bodies stretched out on the grass.
We rushed back to our barracks to wait until we all had our "shots" and they revived those at the back door. After a quick roll call, we "double timed" (ran) to the warehouse to get our issue of clothing.
The long low sheet metal building with the "tin roof" could have been used to bake bread. There were no windows, only a few doors at the ends. The dank smell of the woolens and shoe leather was very strong.
Upon...