I'm David E West. I was born and brought up in Haydenville, Massachusetts. In 1943, at the age of 18, I was drafted into the service and became a member of the 66th Infantry Division and was assigned to the 870th field artillery battalion, Headquarters Battery. The 66th division was activated in Atlantic, Florida on April 15th, 1943.
From Florida we went to Kent Robinson, Arkansas where we did our maneuvers. After 8 months in Arkansas we were sent to what is now Fort Rucker, Alabama. It was then called Camp Rucker. There, they prepared us to go overseas. After 8 months in Alabama we were called. After being down South for nearly 2 years, in November 1944 they put us on a boat and sent us to Europe. We spent 13 days in an English luxury liner that was converted to a troop carrier. We landed in South Hampton, England 18 days later.
We boarded a train and were sent to Down House camp which was somewhere in England. On Christmas Eve, we were preparing Christmas diner and got the call that they needed us in Europe. The Battle of The Bulge was going on that time and they needed us there. We gave the dinner to the English people in the area and boarded our boats.
Some of the infantry was put on the Leopoldville, a Belgian liner converted into a troop carrier. I was on a Landing Ship Tank. The Leopoldville was right beside us. About 5 miles out of Cherbourg, France, the Leopoldville was torpedoed by a German submarine. An SOS distress signal came through that they'd make it to shore but that never happened. The boat was sunk and we lost several hundred men. 800 men went down with the boat on Christmas Eve, and Christmas was not a very happy time at that particular stage. We landed in Cherbourg on Christmas morning, not knowing where we were going or what we were doing.
They sent us to an airport where we camped. My friend Jake Derrick and I found a bomb-hole and we set up camp in there. We were there for a couple of weeks. It wasn't too bad. It was winter, but we had enough equipment to keep us comfortable. From there we received orders to go to Saint-Nazaire and Lorient pockets on the South-West coast of France. There were up to 80,000 Germans in those two pockets, and there were submarine pins in both of the towns.
We relieved the 94th division. There were only 7000-8000 soldiers left out of my division, so we moved in there. The 94th moved up to The Battle of The Bulge. We settled in and set up our artillery. I was the 105 outfit, and the Headquarters Battery was communication primarily. I was in the wire gang and was a switch board operator.
We stayed there for 133 days and nights. The Germans fired on us constantly. The day before V-Day, the Germans surrendered. We went in and marched them out of the pockets. How many there were I can't tell you, but there were many. They had plenty of ammunition, they could have fired on us for another 133 days but they where out of food and had no way to get it into their base. The men were starving, and that's why they quit.
After a few days cleaning up we were sent to Baumholder, Germany to process Russians that were going back to their homeland by the hill. They called it the Fort Sill of Germany. They emptied out the Red Angel hotel so we'd have a place to live and it was quite interesting. You didn't understand Russian and you didn't understand Germans and you just had to go by motion. The Burgomaster could speak English so we were able to communicate pretty well with the Germans. We'd get these people together and they'd be inspected, and you'd put them on a truck and take them to the railheads and send them back to Russia. The Russians were starving. While we were stationed there the Russians would sneak around Baumholder and take chicken or food from any source just to stay alive.
The Germans, they were trying to clean up their land. We would take 4 or 5 Germans and march them out to the field to clean up the debris from the war there. It was a mess. Baumholder was an appropriate name for that town because it was loaded, bomb holes everywhere. It really was a nice little town.
The people there accepted us for what we were trying to do. We were helping them and we helped the Russians go back home. The Germans didn't care about the Russians being there and I don't know if they cared about us being there, but we were doing a service for everybody there.
We were in Baumholder for a month or so then we were transferred to Arles, France to process our own troops that were going to the Pacific. We thought our chances of making it home were pretty slim, but we had great hopes that this was the end of this war, the warring business in the world. Enough was enough. We had our orders to go at a certain time and my hero Harold Truman had the orders to drop the atomic bomb. That was 3 days before we were to go to the orient, so that meant if you had enough time served you'd be on your way home.
Everybody says they should have never bombed the Japs but the Japs didn't have any problem with Pearl Harbor, and the Germans were running all over everybody so I don't think the atomic bomb was a bad thing. I know it wasn't a nice thing but when it comes to war there aren't any nice things. If they'd just sat down and talk things out, and work things out we'd be a whole lot better off.
I was in a chorus that was formed in the field artillery back in basic training in Florida, and after the war was over they called us together and sent us on a tour to entertain troops. We spent time in the Riviera. I played on the same stage in Nice with Bob Hope and Jerry Colonna and Francis Lanford and all the old timers. Maurice Chevalier came out of hiding and joined the entertainers, and we performed at hospitals in the field. One program we had 50,000 people in the National Amphitheater in Southern France.
We went to La Havre, France and we were to entertain there, but I was beginning to feel the effects. I went to the captain and 'I said I cant take it anymore, I'm not sleeping, I'm not eating, I need some help' and they put me in the hospital and that was the beginning of my trip home. I was in hospitals throughout France, then I was sent on a train to Cherbourg to board the Francis White Slanger ship, named after the first American nurse killed in the war, in Europe.
Seven days later we were in New York and I was entered into Mason General Hospital. I was given a free call home so I called Tucson, Arizona and they didn't know where my folks were. I didn't know where I'd be sent, and being in the army you go where they tell you to go. After a week I was sent on a hospital train and that was going to San Francisco. On the way I asked the Red Cross girl to see if she could locate my folks and she did! By the time we got to Salt Lake City, I got news my folks were in Preston, Arizona and still doing OK. We went to San Francisco, then I went to Menlo Park into Dibble General hospital, where I stayed until December.
In December I got my discharge and some back pay and some travel pay to Massachusetts, which wasn't much in those days. I met a friend who had a taxi and he took me out to the main highway and I thumbed my way down to Glendale where I had some friends. I had a friend who grew up in Haydenville, his folks had moved to Glendale and while I was visiting there for a little bit my friends sister came in with her husband and I told them my plight. They said they'd drive me to Preston and I was one thankful vet. I really felt that this was a godsend. We drove day and night, it was probably 500 miles and I got home. My kid brother was in the service too, I don't know where he was stationed but it wasn't long before he came home to Preston as well.
I've kept in touch with a good many of my fellow soldiers. Every September we'd have a reunion as long as we could, we always would do something. There aren't many of us left. Two of my Sergeants put together a newsletter. They put out the newsletter on a regular basis, probably 3 times a year and kept track of all the guys that were in our battery, but they've since passed away. I haven't been in touch with hardly any of them since. I do have contact with one person down in Pennsylvania, Sgt. Wendell Roberts.
My best buddy, the one I went all the way through with, Jake Derrick signed up in the reserves after the war. They put him in the Air Force and he made good connections there and became a staff sergeant. They sent him to Korea in the Air Force. He married a French girl before they left France during the war. They moved to California. I got word from his sister - Jake went to work one day and came out after work, got in his wagon and keeled over. Dead of a brain tumor at 44 years old. I kept in touch with his family.
It's kind of heartbreaking but many of these guys are in their 90s. Down to one person that I knew. With transfers and such there were probably 200-300 in my outfit. Where they are I have no idea.
