A Combat Engineer's Tale

Today was another day of celebration, at least, for me and my family. Today marked the annual celebration of the birth of my Mother. She was not exactly thrilled about the prospect of becoming yet another year older. As a part of the "Celebration" my Mother and I went to see my Grandparents, which is always about as interesting as having your teeth pulled.

In recent years it has become increasingly apparent that age is taking a toll on my Grandparents. My Grandfather has become increasingly forgetful and exponentially more childlike. My Grandmother has a marked increase in pain and stiffness. She also claims that she can no longer see anything due to Macular Degeneration of her eyes. However, anytime we are all driving to go anywhere and she is riding Shotgun, if we come to a four way intersection, she will check in her direction and tell you whether or not it is clear to go. But that is neither here no there.

Over the years I have come to find out that my Grandfather was a Combat Engineer during World War II in the European Theater. In actual attempts to garner any further information is usually blocked by my Grandmother who does not want the discussion to go any further, with the excuse that, "It upsets him."

The few times that I have been able to catch my Grandfather alone and in a position to talk about such things as his military history, did not bear much fruit. The most he would ever say are the dates that he entered and exited the theater, where he entered and exited, and what he did. Stating, "I built bridges, that's it."

Over the past few weeks I have had a heavy heart in this matter. This may be due to a combination of things, probably mostly due to the fact that being in Law Enforcement I am Nosey. Also, probably because it is a time period that I am interested in. Lastly, it has to do with a piece of history not being told and may be forgotten.

Well today, being the nosey person that I am, during the festivities, I happen to see a rather large book on the Bookshelf. This book had no title on the spine which I thought to be odd. I pulled the book out to look at the cover and what should I find? "Pictorial History of the 75th Infantry Division, 1944-1945" If that is not a way to start a conversation then I do not know what is. To be honest I had never heard of the 75th Division. If I had ever heard of it before it was quickly dismissed as not being the 1st Infantry Division (The Big Red 1), the 3rd Armor Division (General George S. Patton's "Spearhead"), or the 82nd Airborne Division (All-American).

I pulled my Grandfather aside and asked him to join me on the back porch. I sat down in one of the chairs and laid the book in my lap. I asked looking at the cover, "Was this your Division?" The answer came sooner than I expected. "Yes...yes it was." He sat down beside me and took the book from my hands. He opened it and began flipping through the pages and stopped at a large group picture. "This was my company. The 275th Combat Engineers Battalion." He ran his hand over the faces of the men he must have once considered to be closer than brothers.

We talked for a couple of hours. My mother keeping her mother occupied while we talked in the fading light. The following is a compilation of the information garnered from the book, the Internet, and the few stories that he told me in this short amount of time.

The 75th Infantry Division was activated at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri in April 1943 with an authorized strength of 15,514 men. One of those men was my Grandfather at the age of 19. The Average of a man in the 75th was 21 years old. They would spend the next 18 months training for the battles to come.

In November 1944 they were shipped to England and from there to France on December 13th. On December 16th Operation Watch on the Rhine began (also know as The Battle of the Bulge). The 75th was ordered to help stop the quickly advancing German line. They were mainly assigned to aid the 3rd Armored Division. After 33 days of hard fighting the 75th had earned the name of "Diaper Division", due to their inexperience in combat. During this battle the 75th earned itself a Meritorious Unit Commendation. It also had the highest casualty rate of any Division during the battle.

My Grandfather would not speak about the actual fighting, nor would I ask him about it. When we came to the section of the book about the Ardennes, he only pointed at the pictures and said, "There was heavy fighting there." Later he told me that when they arrived at they assigned drop off point in the Ardennes, he noticed the mounds of bodies. One side German, the other American. The American bodies were put in wagons and started the long journey home. He did not mention what happened to the German bodies.

His first night in the Ardennes he and the other Engineers were ordered to lay mines at the front. He and his Platoon picked up arm loads of mines and headed for the front. He said, "We were boys. We did what we were told. Being boys we talked all the while. We didn't know any better. We cut up, laughed, sang Christmas Carols." All the while passing foxhole upon foxhole of Infantryman. Several of which yelled, "Hey! Shut the F&#% up or I'll kick your A#&!" Being boys they shouted back and continued on their way.

As they neared the front line, the need to be quite became apparent. The veterans knew the sound well, but the young boys in the platoon did not recognize the horribly distinct whistle of the 88mm shells as they hurtled toward Earth. At the first horrible note was heard the veterans all shouted, "Get down!" My Grandfather and his Platoon did not heed this warning, for the interest of new sound. That is until the first shells struck further down the line with a massive explosion.

Mines went in every which direction as the Green Engineers scrambled for Foxholes. My Grandfather dove into the nearest Foxhole with two of his friends right behind him. The two Infantrymen already occupying the hole made room and they huddled together and waited for the barrage to subside. My Grandfather said that he could not remember how long the shelling lasted, but seemed to last forever.

As the last shells impacted the silence was just as deafening as the exploding shells. Then the two Infantrymen scrambled to there feet and waited for a German attack that did not come. After another eternity of waiting, one of the Infantrymen turned and said, "I don't hear you boys goofing off now."

Before any words could be exchanged a Lieutenant arrived and started giving orders for the Engineers to have the Mines in place before the next barrage or attack. The next several minutes was spent trying to find the mines that had been thrown about and forgotten. Once the mines had been recollected my Grandfather and his platoon went to work placing the mines. The next morning was spent gathering the activated mines back up in preparation for an assault on the Germans.

My Grandfather said that this was pretty much how he spent his time in the Ardennes.

To Be Continued...

Semper Fi Deus

Goose

Traditions

I just returned home from the house of my Mother and my Step-family. I had a splendid time with them, but I am glad for the current state of piece and quite (and a renewed vigor for my never have children policy). This is the first Christmas Eve in my life that I did not spend with the family of my Father. It was an emotional decision to make a choice between the two families. However, the choice was made easier by the fact that I only knew when and where one would be.

I am not sure that this is the start of a new tradition. To be honest, I hope it will not. My Step-family is a little more...lively than I am used to, especially the children. Also, with this family gathering came the opening of presents. My step-father said that it would be the only time that they would all be together. I am not used to opening presents on Christmas Eve and to me it kind of takes away some of the magic of Christmas Day.

However, with that part of Christmas out of the way, we can focus more on the actual reason that we celebrate Christmas. Christ. Now, I will go ahead and state for the record that I am not a scholar on this subject by any means, but this is what I know.

Some time around 2000 years ago a baby was born. Whether or not it was this night no one knows. That baby was born to a Virgin, Mary, and her husband, Joseph, in the City of David. Once born the baby was clothed with random strips of cloth found around the Stable and placed in a feeding trough to sleep.

Elsewhere, in the neighboring countryside, several Shepards where pulling the third shift. Suddenly, an Angel appeared and with him the light of Heaven. Due to the fact that these Shepards were in the countryside, the only light that would have been around would be the lights from the city, a camp fire, and mayhap the Moon, to suddenly more light than they have ever seen in their lives, their reaction was understandable. Fear. The Angel knowing that they were afraid said, "Don't be afraid. I'm bringing you great news that will be told to all people. In the City of David, Christ the Lord has been born for you. He is wrapped in swaddling clothes and is lying in a manger." Once the Angel delivered this message more Angels appeared and gave glory to God.

Once the Angels left, the Shepards decided to go see the Christ child. Being that the city probably only had a handful of Stables and being Shepards they knew where they all were. So, they headed off toward the City, leaving their Sheep unguarded. The Shepards found the Christ Child and new Mother and Father, just as the Angel had told them. They then began worshiping God and went throughout the City proclaiming what had happened. They then went back to their post and finished out their shift.

My Mother reading the above story (Luke chapter 2) is also a Christmas tradition that was kept tonight before we exchanged gifts. The two children practically had to be hog tied to keep them from tearing into the gifts during the reading. Then we took turns opening the gifts, during this the children actually needed to be hog tied, but were not. This lasted one round before everyone tore into their gifts. Thanks were then exchanged and everyone went their separate ways.

During the festivities, I had actually almost forgotten about the family member that were not there, most notably my Father. That was until I opened one of my gifts. It was a photo album. All of the pictures in it where of my Father, all before, at, or directly after my birth. One picture stood out though. A picture that was taken when I was five. It was a picture of me firing an MP-5 for the very first time. Directly behind me was my Father, steadying me and ready to take over if something were to go wrong. In the picture you can see the pride in his face that he boy was doing so well. Needless to say I burst into tears and everyone began to wonder what was the matter.

I excused myself and took a breather in the cool night air. My Mother followed me out and we had a long talk, mostly about the guilt that I felt for having forgotten my Father. She said things that only a Mother can and of course made me feel better.

Tomorrow, will be another day of new traditions. One that will be of spending time with family and worshipping the Lord on the day that we celebrate his birth. I will also be remembering the ones that will not be able to spend time with their families this Christmas season.

With that I want to wish a Merry Christmas to all the Military men and women who are spending this Christmas in war zones far away. Also, a Merry Christmas to my fellow Police, Fire Fighters, and Emergency Medical Personnel who will be working this Christmas.

And Finally a Merry Christmas to you and yorn.



Semper Fi Deus,

Goose

Gunslingers in Prison

You hear true. Every once in a while I and my fellow Gunslingers and Agents have to go to Prison. In the years working at my Agency I have gone to multiple Prisons in multiple States. Most of which have been right here in South Carolina.

Most of the time when I conduct an extradition to another State and pull one of our Offenders from a Prison or a County Jail, 9 out of 10 times, there will be no major issues (Long waits for Offenders, Paperwork late or not completed at all, or Correctional Officers in an unhelpful mood). However, whenever dealing with the South Carolina Department of Corrections (SCDC), the above happens more often than not.

No where is this more evident than at the Local "Maximum" Security Prison in my Jurisdiction. I am really not sure how this particular penitentiary received the designation of Maximum Security other than the fact that it has more Concertina wire than some of the others.

Now, I have been to this Prison 10 to 12 times since beginning me career. Once while I was a Deputy, the rest with this Agency. Of those times with this Agency, I have gone to this Prison twice in order to Transport Offenders from SCDC custody into our custody to begin the Violation process.

You may ask me why on Earth I would go to Prison if to not get a Prisoner. Well the answer is simple. I go because my job sometimes requires me to go. This particular facility is a satellite location for Parole Board Hearings. That means that offenders come from other SCDC facilities to this one to go before the Parole Board to get a chance at being placed on Parole. It is also a location for Parole Revocations. Hence, my being there.

I have only taken 4 Parolees before the Board for a Revocation, the other times I went in order to help another Agent transport an Offender to the facility. Without fail, every time I have gone the rules are staggeringly different.

Usually, this is due to whoever you meet at the gate. The only thing that remains constant is the fact that if its on your person it does not go through the gate. No Firearms (surprise), No ammunition, No knives, No cell phones, and No money. If you have any of those on your person while trying to drive through the gate, it has to be left in lock up at the gate.

Now, having to hand over my Firearm to anyone other than someone that I trust explicitly, is a major do not do. So, having to turn over my Firearm to some Guard in a booth, is absolutely nerve racking.

From here things go completely different from time to time. The car gets searched from stem to stern, completely overlooking the Offender for some reason. Myself and the other Agent can go from honor system that you gave up all contraband to too close to a strip search for comfort.

This last time I went before the Board I took my partner Casey. This was his first time coming to this facility or to any kind of Parole Board function since he went through training years ago. So, while we wait at the gate for the Gate Guard to finish with the vehicle in front of us, I gave him a rough overview of what he could expect. I told him what he needed to do once we got inside and I had to walk my Offender the rest of the way. Needless to say, the Gate Guard did everything completely different.

Once I was inside with the Offender, he was greeted warmly by everyone, convict and Correctional Officer alike. Then, once we got inside the cafeteria building, I was met with more random security changes that I did not expect, but it was best to try and go with the flow. We were then ushered into the Cafeteria where we would wait to be teleconferenced with the Parole Board. That is correct, the Cafeteria. On one side of the Cafeteria, convicts waiting to go before the board to try and re-enter society. On the opposite side of the room family members of said convicts. Being the odd folks out, we get the unprecedented honor of being in the very middle of the room with nothing but a pair of ball point pens for protection.

After taking our seats and beginning the long wait for the Hearings to begin, my Offender begins to tell me his life story. This being the second time that I have met the man, I listen with one ear and pay attention to my surroundings with everything else. After, a few minutes Casey manages to get into the cafeteria. He relays his story about meeting Correctional Officer aplenty that knew my Offender and how good a guy he is. I will admit, at first glance, he would seem to be a pretty good fellow. However, having seen to many want-to-be confidence artists, I automatically know that it is just an act to get on my good side. The violations that he has racked up show the real man.

After about an hour in what one would assume to be the most hostile environment for Law Enforcement ever, the hearings begin. Within thirty minutes we are called to go before the Board.

Now, if you are familiar with me, you would know that I do not like going to court...at all. Well the Parole Board is just below going to court in the hatred meter. Despite all the hassles, I actually think that doing the Parole Board is much easier than going to court. This is due to the fact that we are given a script (literally) to read from and we say nothing else. The Board will then hear from the Offender they then render their decision. Usually.

In my case, my Offender turned on the waterworks and pleaded for mercy. The head of the Board cut him off and told us to wait back in the Cafeteria for the verdict. A few seconds go by...then a few minutes. The Parole examiner came out and told us that the Board could not come to decision and we would have to schedule for the case to be heard again later.

I was dumb struck. The 4 previous cases that were brought before the Board had less violations than this Offender and none of them left the facility with me (they all left several hours later on a bus). I spoke with the Examiner for a few minutes to try and figure out what we needed to do and to kill time whilst Casey pulled the car around (having to go back through all the previous security again).

Once my Offender was back in the County jail and Casey and I back at the Office, we then recounted the tail to our fellow Agents. All of whom were also dumb struck, except Work Mom who said, "What the F#&%." While snatching the file out of my hands and looked over the violations. "D&%$ boy! That should have been a slam dunk! What did you do?!" I honestly do not know what comes over me sometimes, but I said, "Well that's apparently what happens when I follow your instructions." And again the conversation went down hill, and in a hurry. I really need to work on the Brain-mouth filter around her.

Not all hearings end like this. This last time I went to the Board, I spend 5 hours in the cafeteria waiting for an Offender to voluntarily come to prison (this was not my offender and was doing the case for a fellow agent). He never showed. But, I did get to watch another Offender get very upset about having his 6 month Parole revoked. When told that the he would be spending Thanksgiving and Christmas as a guest of the State he got very mouthy. When the Correctional Officer came over to escort him out of the Cafeteria (so he would not get the other Prisoners stirred up) he gave the Officer a flat "No". With out a word more, 6 other much larger Correctional Officers come out of no where and stand behind the Offender. All of whom were wearing the same "Please Fight. I'm Bored to tears" look on their faces. The Offender turned to see this show of force and immediately complied with every order given. I could not help but smile, and there were a few chuckles from some of the other Prisoners.

In the weeks to come I will hopefully get a reschedule date for the Parole Board and get a re-offending Offender back where he belongs.

Semper Fi Deus

Goose