The first time I remember Larry Snovak was in Camp Mackall when we
played on the rigger football team. I remember he was always an
excellent and hard worker. I knew he was married and had lived in
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. When we were on the English airfield at about 9:00 P.M. on June 5, 1944,
waiting for our mission to begin, he told me he had been hoping for a
letter from his wife as she was expecting to have their baby any day. I
found a jeep with a driver in it and got him to take me to the mail room
to see if there was any mail. It so happened that there was. Larry
opened his letter and let out a yell, "By Golly, it's a boy, and he's
going to grow up and play football for the Pittsburgh Steelers"! He was
very happy!
We were the last plane in the formation that took off from Cottesmore
airdrome (I think that was field; but I can't be sure). It was then
about 11:00 P.M. We circled around for what seemed like over an hour.
Then we flew out over the Channel and soon ran into fog. The planes all
scattered. We flew on and soon were over land and started catching some
pretty heavy ground fire - machine guns and 20 mm stuff. We were all
hooked up and standing ready. Sgt. Keating was our jumpmaster. The red
light was on at first - then the lights went out. We turned left and
flew back over the water. The crew chief came back and told us that the
lights had been shot out and that they would have to ring a buzzer when
we should jump. We then circled back over land to complete this jump.
This put us 6 or 7 miles north of where we should have been. We dropped
on a Division Headquarters. I remember that everywhere I went, all I
heard was Germans. There was lot of machine gun fire. I had a carbine, a
45 pistol, and 6 grenades. Before long, I had used up all of the
grenades. By then, it was nearing daybreak so I crawled up in some thick
hedge rows and was going to hide out if I could during the day. At about
10:00 o'clock I saw 2 German patrols coming toward me - one on each side
of the hedge row. When they got close to me, I stepped out and
surrendered. They took me to their Headquarters. About an hour later a
truck came by and Marcel Bollag and I were put in and taken to a
temporary prison camp. In the truck were Larry Snovak, Jimmy Hall, and
Howard Ranabauer. All three of these had been seriously wounded and were
in a state of shock from loss of blood, probably. The Germans dropped us
off at the prison camp and I suppose they took the other three to a
hospital.
We spent June 6 night in the prison camp. This camp was surrounded by
barbed wire and German guards with machine guns. The next day we were
marched to the edge of Cherbourg and put in a prison camp with barracks.
We stayed there until the morning of June 10th. Then they marched about
100 that were in the camp out heading south before the peninsula was cut
off. The only 2 paratroopers there that I know of were Sgt. Marcel
Bollag and myself. It was his first jump. He was attached to
Intelligence as he spoke German, French, Italian, and Spanish. He was
raised in Switzerland and came to the U.S.A. in 1932.
After walking all day and late into the evening, we came to a railroad
with an engine and several box cars. There were already some American
troops under guard there. They loaded them on the train and marched the
rest of us on until dark - then put us in a large barn. On June 11 we
started out marching again. The sun was almost down when a P-47 flew
over us from behind and banked around and turned toward us. I could see
the smoke shooting from the front of his wings so I jumped in a ditch
beside the road. We were strafed and he turned and started back. There
was a ditch that ran cross-ways to the road so I got in there. There
were also a lot of trees along the road. The P-47 pilot made several
more passes until his ammo had run out and he left. All the German
guards had been riding bicycles and all but 3 had been killed. I don't
know how many Americans were killed; but the road was covered with dead
and badly wounded.
We were close to a small town. A priest and some of the other people
came out and helped as much as they could.
The next day, June 12, the guards told us we would stay there until
night and then march on as there would be no more day-time marching.
Late that afternoon, Marcel came up to me and said if we could get away,
there was a Frenchman who had said he would hide us out. I told Marcel
to ask the guard if we could go into the field right across the road -
it was a potato field - to see if we could dig up some potatoes to eat.
It was no problem (as they were not guarding us very close) to get into
the woods. We went about 2 miles into the woods, spent the night there,
and came back the next morning after the rest of the guards and troops
had left. The Frenchman brought us a loaf of bread and some kind of
stew. That was the first thing we had eaten in several days. I think
that was one meal I will remember the rest of my life!
I don't know the name of the Frenchman, I have talked with Marcel in the
last 2 or 3 years and he [nothing] remembers of him. Marcel went back
there in 1994 to the 50th Anniversary of D-Day and visited with the ones
that were still living. Some had passed away; but their children said
their parents talked about the 2 American Paratroopers they had hid out.
Back in 1944, we stayed in that village about a week. They got us French
clothes and took our pictures and had fake I.D. cards made for us. I was
listed as deaf and dumb on my card!
Our friends next moved us out to a farmer's house. We stayed there about
a week and the Germans set up an A. A, Battery within 200 yards of the
house. One day we were eating in the kitchen when 4 German soldiers came
in and sat down at the table. One of the German soldiers had told Marcel
that his hands did not look like a farmer's hands. Marcel told them he
was from Cherbourg and worked in a bank. He bummed some cigarettes from
them, I was relieved when they left. Our friends moved us out the next
day as they thought it was a good idea. The next place we stayed was
close to Lessey (sp?) and stayed there 4 days. We then moved into the
town to an apartment with a French lady and her two daughters. One of
them was named Simone and I don't remember the other's name. She also
had a son about 13 years of age. The father owned a manufacturing plant
close to Paris. The Germans had taken it over and forced him to stay
there and run it. The family we were with were very nice people. When
Marcel went back to France for the 50th anniversary of D-Day he went to
see them. He brought back photos and a letter to me from Simone.
On July 17th it was decided by the French people that they would try to
get us back through the American lines. We went up the coast and stayed
in a little farm house one night and day. On July 17th at about midnight
we went to the coast and waded in the ocean. The moon was dark; but
there was a French Marine who had served in WWI who led us until we were
behind the American lines. You could tell by the artillery fire where we
were. We went ashore and waited until daylight and then started walking
toward La Haye Du Puits. On the way, we met an American with a jeep and
I flagged him down and told him who we were. He took us to his Company
Headquarters. His Captain called somebody and they took us into town to
the Headquarters there. Two reporters took pictures of us. Then we were
taken to a replacement depot and given American uniforms in place of the
French civilian clothes we had been wearing for about 6 weeks.
That night we were picked up by the driver of a full Colonel who was in
charge of Intelligence. He questioned us - mostly he questioned Marcel
because he knew the names of all the different towns, outfits, etc. we
had seen while we were behind the lines. The Colonel was from
Birmingham, Alabama. He told us he could help us in any way we wanted
and just to let him know how. That was July 18th. We stayed in that camp
until Friday morning. On Wednesday and Thursday I had noticed a C-47 had
landed about noon each day and left going back in the direction of
England. We walked up to the landing field and found the control room. I
asked the Sgt. who appeared to be in charge if the plane was going to
England, I told him who we were and asked him if we could ride the plane
back to England. He said we could only if we had written orders. I asked
if we could get verbal orders from the Colonel in Intelligence. He said
we could. I told him to call the Colonel and tell him that Sgt. Kersh
would like to speak to him. He did and I heard him say, "Yes, sir!" and
handed me the phone. I explained to the Colonel that if he would give
the Sgt. verbal orders, we could get on the plane back to England. He
said "I'll do even better than that. I will see to it that you get on
that plane and when you land, I will have Major (somebody) - the pilot -
fly you back to the Cottesmore field!" And that's how we got back - July
22, 1944 - to our base camp somewhere near Oakham.
When I walked into our barracks and back to my room, Sgt. Morowski was
about ready to send my personal effects back to my parents in Alabama! I
stayed with the outfit - the Parachute Maintenance Section - until we
went to Reims (Sissonne) in France. From there we moved to occupation
duty in Frankfurt, Germany,
In July 1945, Eisenhower put out the order that all former P.O.W.'s
would be sent back to the States. I left about the last of August and
got back home September 15. I was given a 60 day furlough and then was
discharged from the army. |