Chapter 2
After ASTP, Across the Atlantic to England Under Siege
By Lester Segarnick
After spending nine months as a basic engineering
student-in-army-uniform in the idyllic setting of Bard College at
Annendale-on-Hudson, New York, a time that I have come to call my
"gestation" period, the army shut down most of the Armed Services
Training Program (ASTP) in engineering and I was shipped out to Camp
Shelby, Mississippi, to join up with the 271st Infantry Regiment of the
69th Infantry Division. Thus, instead of being "born normally" as an
army engineer, I was "delivered (kicking) by Caesarean" as a combat
infantryman once again.
While I reacclimated to the life of an infantryman, and the 69th
Infantry Division prepared itself for its overseas combat role in the
European Theatre of Operations, D-Day took place in early June of 1944,
and the war in Europe began to rage in earnest as the allied forces
began to claw and crawl their way back onto the continent, across France
and Belgium towards the German Fatherland.
Our unit finally received orders to ship overseas in the fall of
1944. About 5,000 of us with full battle gear boarded a Victory ship
"The Hagerstown Victory" in a New Jersey Port of Embarkation and the
vessel headed out under cover of darkness into the cold, rough waters of
the forbidding Atlantic Ocean, destination unknown, at least to the
soldiers huddled together in the very close, cramped quarters down below
deck. The word we got over the loudspeakers aboard ship was that we
were restricted to the quarters to which we were assigned throughout the
voyage, except for meal times, latrine requirements and exercise
periods, all of which would be strictly controlled and enforced. Also,
we were warned repeatedly not to light up anytime we were on deck
topside or near a porthole after dark for fear of being spotted by enemy
submarines.
Besides trying to sleep in the quaint but extremely uncomfortable
hammocks strung three-high, most of the time was spent talking and
thinking aabout what lay ahead; and gambling, with poker and dice being
the predominant games of choice. The only other activity of any
consequence had to do with how to avoid or deal with seasickness, a
malady which afflicted at least four out of every five soldiers aboard
ship.
On the third day out things went from bad to worse. The 'til then
relatively calm seas began a wild, unpredictable and irrepressive
"dance." The sea rose and fell, the waves crashed over the bow of the
ship and raced astern, and the skies darkened ominously as the rain
pelted down and lightening flashes cracked like a giant whip across the
tumultuous heavens. All the while, our little Victory ship was tossed
about, carried aloft on slowly building waves, then dropped suddenly
with a crunching thud as the wave dropped out from under the ship. The
rate of seasickness rose from about 80% to 100%, considering that for
the duration of the storm, which would last about three days and nights,
we were ordered to remain in our bunks or hammocks below deck to avoid
being swept overboard. The stench and heat below decks became
unbearable; and fights broke out as patience waned and tempers flared.
By the end of the second day I was so sick and weary of lying in my
own sweat and vomit that I decided I would probably be better off dead
than continuing to remain in this hell-hole. I dragged myself up about
four decks to topside, swiftly and silently pulled myself out onto the
open deck, all the while hanging on to ropes and rails to keep from
being swept off the deck into the raging sea by the wind and waves that
roared and pounded continuously. Although I was scared silly I still
felt better feeling the wind and rain in my face; at least the stink was
gone and I had forgotten about the nausea. If I was to survive the
night I realized that I had to secure myself somehow so that I would not
be washed overboard. I spotted a large canvas-covered cargo hatch
partially hidden from view by an overhanging walkway, with many heavy,
criss-crossing ropes. This then was my salvation, I figured. I quickly
crawled onto the hatch-cover, located myself in as obscure a position as
possible and tied a loose end of rope very tightly around my waist,
thereby securing myself to the canvas hatch cover. There I lay, soaked
to the skin, but happy. . . sleeping fitfully 'til dawn. I don't know
if it was real or a dream, but I seemed to recall hearing big guns being
fired on and off during the night. By the time I awoke, the storm had
subsided somewhat, and I was very hungry for a change. I had not eaten
for about two days. I learned later that submarines had been spotted
that night and some of our navy support units had come to the defense of
our convoy after at least one troop ship had been torpedoed.
The rest of the trip was relatively uneventful and our ship finally
docked in Southhampton, England, ten days after our departure from New
Jersey. We disembarked very quickly, were herded aboard 2-1/2 ton US
Army trucks and were driven to Winchester Barracks where we would spend
the next two months assembling and organizing while awaiting further
orders.
Thus, fate played another trick on me. Turning point No, 1 had
occurred when the Army decided to take a well-trained, physically-fit,
combat-ready infantryman and dropped him into the midst of a quiet,
clean, pastoral, Ivy League college setting; and, nine months later,
reversed the situation and dumped a now docile, softened college student
right back into the dust, dirt, mud, noise and danger of the
foot-slogging combat infantryman. What a revolting turning point that
was!
On to Chapter 3...
Comments for Lester Segarnick? Email him:lesseg@webtv.com