“The first event occurred on Christmas Eve, 1944 near Vielsalm, Belgium. We were constantly under German observation and fire when a plane (one of ours) dropped a bomb on our position. Lt. Jones Epps our assistant platoon leader was entombed by the blast. It took several men with entrenching tools to dig him out and get him evacuated.

Meanwhile, I was scared to death, and was racing down the hill, when my Sergeant bellowed  ‘Where you going Arkansas?’

I know most soldiers are scared at some time. Nevertheless, that does not keep us from fighting and moving on – which is what I did.

We fought in the Ardennes against Germans and a bitter cold European winter. Daily we struggled through deep snow in the hilly Hurtgen forest.

We destroyed Siegfried Line fortifications, seized small towns, and killed or captured Germans.  

My second memorable incident was when I almost captured a Tiger tank! It was near the end of the Battle of the Bulge, and even though I was a veteran, the rest of the platoon still treated me like the new kid on the block. Therefore, whenever the need arose for an outpost, I always drew the job.  

It fell to me one bitter cold dark night to operate an outpost armed only with my M-1 rifle and a phone line back to the platoon command post.

In the morning, because of the dense fog, I could not see very far but I could hear a steady low rumble noise, which worried me as it, grew louder and more distinct. I was sure it was a tank but not one I recognized, it sounded more guttural than an American tank.

I cranked up the phone to call in my observation. I said ‘Sergeant, we got a tank coming this way.’ The Sergeant said ‘Arkansas, do not worry about it, we have some of our own tanks roaming around out there, and it is probably one of them.’  And he hung up.

The sound became still louder and the rumbling more distinct, it was definitely not our tank. I called the Sergeant again and said, ‘I don’t think this is one of our tanks’ He said,  ‘Arkansas, you’re just imagining things, it’s got to be one of ours.’  And he rang off.

A few minutes later, I called the Sergeant and told him ‘There is a Tiger tank about 20 yards directly in front of me with German soldiers hanging on the outside. Bye.’ And headed for the rear as fast as I could.

As my tank experience occurred during the end of the Battle of the Bulge and the Germans were demoralized and surrendering, I have often