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Submitted by: Joan Dattilo
This is the memory of: Edward M. Traboulsi
Relationship to submitter: Husband

On February 12th, 1943, I took an oath for induction into the U.S. Army. After weeks' sojurn to put my personal effects in order, my active duty commenced. I was ordered to Ft. Leonard Wood in Missouri.

There, basic training for Combat Engineers started for me. The training and experience of being in the Ozark Mountains was certainly a definite change from my home and environment in Brooklyn.

My next destination from Ft. Leonard Wood was the Shenango Replacement Depot in Pennsylvania. Then, on to Ft. Dix in New Jersey, where I was selected as a replacement for a survey sergeant, who had been released from his unit due to an injury he had suffered.

That unit was the 3rd Armored 'Spearhead' Division. I was on my way to an unforgettable adventure, whose experiences and memories, both good and bad, would last a lifetime and more.

Sometime in early September 1943, we boarded a troop ship to cross the Atlantic to England. We encountered very rough Atlantic storms and severe weather. The ship's rocking and rolling affected me so acutely, that at times, I actually hoped that a German U Boat would torpedo and sink us.

After arriving in England, we were stationed in barracks at Warminster. There, I was placed in operations and was trained in Fire Direction. Our Unit was the 67th Armored Field Artillery Battalion with 105-millimeter self-propelled guns.

Many training exercises took place on Salisbury Plains; not only for my battalion and its guns, but as a part of a unit. We also trained some of our tank units to be able to fire their guns using our artillery methods. For this, the unit I was with received a citation acknowledged by colonels and generals. Additional citations were also bestowed on our unit.

During this part of training, an incident occurred which was a near miss for our unit. It could be described as training under actual combat conditions. The tank gunners made a miscalculation, and we became their targets. The sound and sight of shells exploding all around gave me a vivid example of what was to come later on for us.

On one occasion, while training on Salisbury Plains, a group of generals came to review and observe what we were doing. This group was headed by General Eisenhower and his staff, and included British General Montgomery. They were only a short distance from my vehicle. General Montgomery came over to where I stood and asked to see what I was doing.

Besides the training, there were pleasant moments. They included going into the surrounding villages and their pubs, meeting the English people.

Before leaving England, I had the opportunity to get a pass allowing me to stay with a family in London. They resided in Kensington in a top floor apartment. My first night there, the German Luftwaffe, after a pause, resumed bombing. I was sitting in a chair near a window in the apartment, when the bombs started to fall and the 'ack ack' from the English went up to greet them. I heard one particular blockbuster bomb come whistling down, sounding like an express train. The bomb just barely cleared our apartment house, and hit the next building. The bomb went down through it and exploded, causing our apartment to shake like a leaf in a storm.

The family with whom I was staying, asked me the next morning if I was going to leave. My response was 'of course not, after that 'red carpet' greeting!' The German planes came back the next night and bombed us again. It was an indication of things to come.

Finally, we got the call to be on our way to board the (LST) Landing Ship Tank that carried and landed us on Omaha Beach in Normandy, France. Incidentally, 'Omaha' was the code name for our division.

While crossing the English Channel, I was assigned to a gun mount. We were crossing at night in complete darkness. After some time had passed, I noticed something in the distance approaching us in a direct path. As it came closer, the form of it was becoming increasingly larger and higher. I then realized it was another ship and that its course was going to take it crashing into our ship. I flung myself over the metal parapet protecting the guns, and in moments, had my life jacket inflated. Our ship was hit, but fortunately did not sink. At later times, when this incident crossed my mind, it was always a reminder of how fast one can act in situations of an unpredictable nature. In another peaceful time, there is no way I could have maneuvered myself over that parapet and had my life jacket in such as short time as I was able to do then.

From the time we landed on Omaha Beach in France, to our final combat engagement, which was to reach and stop at the Elbe River in Germany to meet the Russians, there was a period of 310 days, in which the 3rd Armored 'Spearhead' Division was in combat. The Army's term for this was 'contact with the enemy'.

We were in France, and it didn't take long to experience the taste of combat. We were bombed and shelled, and of course there were casualties. In France, often, my face was on the ground and in the grass. The smell of the grass was so in my senses, that years later, whenever I smelled grass I was immediately taken back in memory to France.

Many of the farms in France were bordered with heavy hedgerows, and in the beginning created a problem for our tracked vehicles. However, that problem was erased when the tanks were equipped with hedge cutters.

There were many incidents in that period that will always remain vivid in my memory. On one occasion, while under direct fire, shells that landed around my vehicle while I was on the ground hit two soldiers who were 10 to 15 feet away from me. After later returning to our unit, one of them, Sgt. Ellingsen said to me, 'here I had said goodbye to you but you weren't touched, and I was hit.'

Another incident occurred in one of the fields surrounded by hedgerows. Being in Fire Direction, I needed to use a remote to give instructions to the gun units as to how and where to fire their shells. In a regular manner, I had just sat down on the ground with my back against a tree, having just taken off my steel helmet to be able to speak to the gunners. Just then, I noticed everyone around me running for whatever cover was available. I took off one of my earphones and in that moment heard a very loud crack right next to my ear. I looked and saw that a substantial portion of the tree trunk was destroyed by part of a shell that missed me by inches.

My unit was generally a part of Combat Command A, commanded by Brigadier General Doyle O. Hickey. Months later, when Division Commander, General Maurice Rose was killed in combat, General Hickey became Division Commander. When an objective required a smaller self-contained unit of all combat elements, I was usually a part of Task Force X.

In combat, there was no distinction between officers and enlisted men. All of us were subjected to the same bombs, shells and mortars. Casualties were across the board.

July 26th, 1944 was a momentous day; a prelude to the breakthrough at Ste. Lo. It started with the concentrated bombing of an area just before us, by a combined airplane fleet of 3000 planes that completely saturated the targets. It was difficult to see how anyone or anything could survive the onslaught. The ground I was standing on was vibrating from the tremendous amount of firepower exploding upon it.

The order came down for the 3rd Armored Spearhead Division to drive forward. We broke through, and never stopped until we reached the Elbe River in Germany to wait for the Russians to meet us. Many times we ran into very fierce German opposition by their tough veteran units. It got so that mere survival was a toss up.

On August 2nd, 1944, it was announced that we wee to have a 'rest period'. It was my sister Elizabeth's birthday, so I thought what a great way to celebrate it. That thought was short lived. The German's were heavily attacking at Mortain, and we were ordered back into immediate action. End of 'birthday party'! Again, we were engaged in very heavy combat.

Sometime in August, we stopped to let the French Armored Division go ahead of us, so they could have the honor of taking back one of their own towns. From the beginning of August, we were in continuous action, night and day. German resistance was very heavy. Out Thunderbolt fighter planes were a big help to us during the day; but at night, German bombers had freedom in bombing us.

Day in and day out, while we were making great advance against the Germans, causing tremendous casualties to them, we also were sustaining many losses in men and equipment. It was a way of life, every day, to hear and feel the sound of exploding shells, and to see the destruction of life and armor. It felt as if there was nothing in the world but this misery and the acceptance of the fact that at any moment your 'number could be up.'

On August 7th, General Maurice Rose was named Commanding General of the Third Armored Division. He was a very experienced combat commander, and a front-line officer. The commendations I received always ended with the comment 'noted with pleasure', by General Maurice Rose. It was a tremendous loss to others and me, when he was killed later on in Germany by a German tanker. He was really a 'soldier's' solider. In his memory a gift of $30,000 was contributed by the members of the Third Armored Division and given to a hospital in Denver named the 'Third Armored Spearhead Division Room.'

By August 12th, 1944, the Germans were fully beaten in that area. Then another rough campaign began, to encircle the German Seventh Army.We took many casualties, but finally succeeded in closing the pocket known as the Argentan Falaise Gap.

All the weeks and months of combat, being in an environment of explosions and destruction, having never a moment of rest and peace, and without food or sleep, were a test of human endurance. The toll that was taken was indescribable. What an example of man's inhumanity to man!

On August 22nd, 1944, the Third Armored Division, along with the 1st and 9th Infantry Divisions teamed up to cross the Seine River and met ferocious resistance. On August 27th, we crossed the Marne River, and a few days later, the Aisne River. We also came upon German railway trains and destroyed them around the same time.

We received orders to change direction from East to due North in our attack, and immediately drove into Belgium, with Mons as our objective. In short order, we battled our way into Belgium; the first Allied troops to do so in force. We received an incredible welcome from the Belgium citizens.

Soon we were in a bitter battle for Mons and destroyed, killed and took thousands of German prisoners. Then it was on to Namur and Liege. We were involved in constant, merciless action to destroy the German Army and prevent them from retreating into Germany. We then crossed the Meuse River. There was always one more river to cross.

In all these actions, the 67th (my unit) was a part of Combat Command A, led by General Doyle O. Hickey. In the Battle for Liege, the 67th was involved in a dramatic and direct dual with enemy guns. Our accurate fire destroyed all of them. During the battles in Belgium, I met some of the Armee Blanche, the Belgian Freedom Fighters.

By about the middle of September, 1944, we were ready to invade Germany. The next big obstacle was the Siegfried Line. I was part of Task Force X, which was ordered to penetrate and go through the Line. The engineers attached explosives to the dragon's teeth, a hole was blown through it, and we were able to attack against fierce German resistance. The result was many casualties of men and plenty of destroyed armor.

Town after town in Germany was taken. Stolberg was a very different affair. For a long time we controlled half of the city, the Germans the other half. After Stolberg, our next big objective was Aachen. By the time that battle ended only shells were left of rows of apartment buildings. The devastation of it all left a life-long impression upon me.

I recall that the weather was getting wet and cold and the ground was just a gooey mess of mud and water. Trying to walk in it was a tremendous ordeal. Our tracked vehicles were bogged down in the mess, and it all became a normal and natural nightmare.

In this hellish environment, we received orders to attack and break through to the area of Eschweiler-Laugerwehe. The area was heavily mined. Our tanks, artillery guns and other vehicles had their tracks blown apart by mines, and were hit by mortars and enemy artillery. Resistance was fierce, and to take our objectives, casualties were extensive. No one was spared. Soldiers and officers alike were lost, plus our armor. The German Luftwaffe also bombed us again with high explosives and anti-personnel bombs.

As I said before, there was always one more river to cross. The Roer River was an exceptionally tough one. The Germans were hitting us with everything they had. Eventually, we were able to cross the Roer, and that ended a terrible drive. We got a small break receiving replacements for our casualities. Maintenance repaired our vehicles. By this time it was mid December. Then the horrible action of the Ardennes (The Battle of the Bulge) suddenly erupted.

Of all the five battle campaigns I was in, from Normandy, to Northern France, to the Ardennes, to the Rhineland, to finally, Central Europe, nothing was as terrible as the 'Battle of the Bulge' The bigger cold, snow, ice, and the desolation of the forest were constant, 24 hours of each day. Coupled with conditions of combat, it is difficult to really describe. It left me with unforgettable memories of a very unpleasant time of my life.

The Germans had initiated a tremendous drive to cut Allied communications and supply lines. The snow and fog gave them conditions for a surprise attack. We were hurriedly ordered to attack, destroy and stop them. To be in combat in the snow and cold and whatever else was a nightmare and worse. It was around Christmas time and I recall being in a small village and seeing German tanks in the street and thinking, 'what a way to spend Christmas!'

There came a time when the snow temporarily stopped and gave our planes an opportunity to fly. What a welcome sight it was to see them bombing and hitting the German tanks and guns. Around the middle of January, the 'Battle of the Bulge' came to a close. Both sides had taken plenty of casualties, but the Germans had been badly beaten. I remember that there were many days during the campaign when I must have been feverish. I felt that my head was in the sky.

We had a little rest after the 'Bulge' and were then ordered into action. Again, we had to cross the Roer River. It was no easier than the first rough time we had crossed it. We were on our way to reach Cologne. To do so, the Erft Canal had to be crossed. Again, the Germans threw everything they had at us. We, (the 67th) took some bad hits. To reach Cologne, there was yet one more river to cross; the big one, the Rhine.

Usually, we were not in big towns and cities. Armor was not effective in those places. The Germans were giving us tremendous resistance. Attacking with us were the 104th and 8th Infantry Divisions. It was the first week in March when we finally entered Cologne, which was a beautiful City before the bombing and shelling it endured. It was so strange; almost surrealistic to be in a large city. For months it had been plains, forests, farmland villages, rivers and hills that had been my life.

On a lighter side, we 'liberated' a liquor warehouse, which as good for a very short celebration of one day. A friend, previously mentioned, Sgt. Ellingson, who could have passed as a double for General Eisenhower, unfortunately had a Dr. Jeckyl/Mr. Hyde personality. As soon as he had a drink, he turned into a different person. After drinking, he came me and said 'Shiske', (one of my nicknames), 'let's go and get some frauleins and have them dance on the tabletops.' After I declined he did go out with a couple of soldiers from the 'ack ack' unit looking for the frauleins. Whatever happened then couldn't have been very good.

The weather had turned from cold to almost spring-like. It felt as if life was again suddenly erupting. It seemed as though a dead weight had been lifted from my shoulders. On March 11th, 1945, the American Flag went up over the City of Cologne. The Rhineland Campaign was finally over.

However, there was always one more battle campaign. I did not yet realize that finally, this next campaign would be my last. It would end at the Elbe River in Germany, with us waiting for the Russians to meet us. I was part of Task Force X. The drive started against very vicious German resistance. As always, there were plenty of casualties, as were battling elite Panzer Units. We crossed another river, the Mahr, and we were on our way to encircling Germanys' Industrial Ruhr. After much rough combat, several days later, we broke through and made tremendous advances. We took town after town. Their civilians were shocked to see us. We took a great number of prisoners.

In this drive we reached the town of Paderborn, which was a center for training the crack elements of the Panzer 'SS' Units. They were fantatics with plenty of the best German weapons available; and they used them well. Bazookas, tanks, rockets and all manner of weaponry came at us. But in the end, we were once again, able to break through.

At the end of March, 1945, we really took a bad blow. As mentioned earlier, our respected General, Maurice Rose was killed. When the encirclement of the 'Ruhr Pockt' was completed, with 376,000 enemy soldiers captured and taken prisoner, the Pocket was renamed the 'Rose Pocket' in General Rose's honor.

It was now April, and the next river was the Weser. We crossed it in spite of heavy fighting and moved forward to Nordhausen, an extermination camp. It is completely impossible to describe what we came upon. Starving people, looking like skeletons, corpses, unbearable stench, bodies in heaps, moaning and delirium among the barely living. It was a horrible sight. I remember that we had practically nothing to eat, as we were regularly outrunning our supply lines. These starving survivors eagerly tried to get any scraps we had left over. It was as though they felt we were sent from Heaven to help them.

There was another horrible place called Dora. Here, slave labor worked on the German V-1 and V -2 rockets. Conditions were the same here; starvation, corpses and the smell of death.

After battling for days, we reached and crossed the Mulde River. The next big objective was Dessau. I remember that we were always running into very intense resistance and more combat. We took plenty of villages and towns, destroying them in order to advance. We finally captured Dessau and reached the Elbe River. It was at this point that our combat journey ended. We were ordered to wait for the Russians to reach us there. For us, there were no more rivers to cross! In a matter of days, Germany finally surrendered. VE Day which had been like a mirage I the desert became a huge reality.

Occupation duty was the next step for us. That certainly was a welcome change. President Truman, who had been an Artillery Officer in World War I, came to review the Third Armored Division. The 67th Armored Field Artillery Battalion was one of the specific units he visited that day. I had been out in the field training a new unit; perhaps to go to Japan. When I returned to my unit, our Captain came to me and said, 'Sergeant, shake the hand that just shook hands with the President.'

Occupation duties were certainly a big change and afforded us an opportunity to get some much-needed rest and to be able to assimilate calm and peace into our hearts and souls. It was pleasant to e able to go into Frankfurt, Heidelberg and other towns. While the Germans had been badly hit, there was still a semblance of something, though very little of what civilization once was.

In Frankfurt, I met a lovely German lady; a soft spoken, gentle person who made me feel human again. When it came time for me to depart from Germany and come home, it was sad to have to say good-bye.

While I was at the final processing camp in Europe before coming home, a surprising and pleasant thing occurred. My cousin Alex was there and dropped in to see me. It was a wonderful touch of home.

On October 25th, 1945, I honorably discharged from the Army. I received little bronze stars in recognition of the 5 Battle Campaigns in which I participated, as well as the Belgian Fourragere, a division unit citation from the Belgian Government for liberating the country. I was also personally awarded the Bronze Star for meritorious service above and beyond the call of duty.

My return into civilian life and surroundings began. Now, when I think of the times and experiences of that period of my life, many thoughts and memories flood my mind. Who was I before going into the Service? All that transpired while I was in the Army was something one cannot know or imagine unless personally experienced. Before that time, I did not know what it was to go through days, weeks and months of being exposed to sounds and smells of shells and bombs; to experience hunger, sleepless nights and fearful times; of lonely moments, of feeling that war would be my way of life for the foreseeable future, and that the only way out would be to be carried out.

Those feelings were not present for me before the beginning of the Campaign in Normandy. They gradually grew in subsequent campaigns and probably reached a climax during the 'Battle of the Bulge' in the Ardennes. These experiences were, in many respects, a personal test of how I would react under very adverse conditions. My actions were not disappointing to me. Those factors, fortunately, turned out to be helpful in the years to come.

During the war, my 'family', if that's what one would call it, became the other men in my unit. So many of their names and faces remain in my memory. Some of them were killed or wounded but the memories of them will always be present within me. We all shared the same conditions and experiences during the campaigns. How their lives developed afterwards would be pure speculation on my part. A friend of mine, Jack Muldofsky was in the same unit as I was. He continues to this day, to be a close friend of mine. We don't really talk about the war very much, although we both share horrible feelings about the Battle of the Bulge.

In the combat zones after a time, it became numbing to continuously see the damage and destruction of villages and towns with naturally no sign of life. This was just another example of what war spawns and man's great inhumanity to man. There is one things about war that is so evident. Incidents, life-affecting ones, take place in fractions of a second. While under enemy fire, you are either hit or not. A bomb or shell exploding near you can produce a result in the blink of an eye. One does not dwell on that.

After many years of civilian life, I am certain that I was deeply affected in many ways by my war experience. I hope that what I learned there has been beneficial not only for me, but also for family and others in my life.

I am so appreciative and grateful for those who are so much a part of my life today and also in the past: my present wife Joni and her family, my deceased wife Ingrid, my daughter Stephanie and her family and my son Edward Michael. I am so grateful to my sister Elizabeth, my brother Victor and my beloved deceased sister Yvonne and all of their families, as well as present and past friends. They are all very precious to me and I feel blessed that I was fortunate enough to return home after the end of the war and its unforgettable experiences.

In the final analysis, when all is said and done, my life has been an incredible journey.

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