The Battle Jacket

In early 2013 I saw a listing for a reunion of the 13th Armored Division in the VFW magazine.  I had seen them many times over the years, but had basically dismissed them.

 

jacketThe Battle Jacket is a story that began with that reunion. It took place in two stages. The first, in 1945. The second, in the past two years. My original intent in writing this story was to relate the illustrated Battle Jacket to our common identity as 13th Armored Division family members. The Battle Jacket in this story is of the same design that our Supreme Commander, General Dwight D. Eisenhower wore. He shared this design with us who served under him. It became a symbol of common support – family support. Since this story is about guidance, support and participation, this Battle Jacket is us.

Us, in the here and the now – 2015 to be exact, if you look at a picture of the 13th Armored Division family taken at last year’s reunion, family members outnumber the surviving veterans nearly threefold. That ratio will grow larger as each year goes by. Family members, wives, daughters and sons, grandchildren, have stories to add to those of the veterans. Those stories are of their memories of the good of the men who put their lives on the line for them. Stories that not only describe what happened in 1945, but how their families shared and benefitted from their actions

We are family. Relighting the memories of our family sets the tone for what is good about our great country. My two part family story follows:

The 13th Armored Division Association was formed to basically relight the memories of the 13th Armored Division of 1942 – 1945. Especially the memories of the sacrifices of those who were KIA, as well as of those wounded and of those who stood up to the enemy. Those memories were commemorated and celebrated in annual reunions, planned, operated, and attended by every member of the families of the original 13th Armored Division. As it lives today, its manifestation is in the hands of dedicated family members, a large part of who are daughters, sons, and grandchildren.

That latter part is growing; the other is shrinking, and soon like the original 13th Armored Division will be decommissioned. But, the family lives on. In this connection, my daughter Patty and I designed the website Relighting Us. One of its purposes is to supplement and back up our annual 13th Armored Division reunions. The story of the Battle Jacket was intended to introduce the concept and method involved for that process.

The story begins as follows:

The picture to the left was taken on May 30, 1945, in Neu Otting, Bavaria.

It shows me in my newly issued (just that day) Eisenhower Battle Jacket. I am holding my M1 Rifle at my right side. The jacket was so new I didn’t have an opportunity to install my insignia, as we were getting ready to do a Memorial Day ceremony for all our departed comrades. Their names are listed on the In Memoriam list on the right. (Private First Class Thomas Briggs middle initial was E. – not B).

I was holding my rifle, because I had been chosen by my Company Commander, Captain Thomas R. Ford to be one of the Honor Squad that would be firing the Three Volley Salute to our fallen comrades on that Memorial Day. It was an honor for me, as I realized that in spite of all my screw ups in the past, I was still chosen to do a task of honor. That realization occurred to me more now, than it did then.

What is also a part of that total phenomenon is that 70 years later I had another chance to honor PFC Briggs and our other fallen comrades. Right in the here and the now. I am still in that same process of doing a task of honor. What goes around comes around. It is up to us to grab it and make it happen.

We have within our power to relight their memories. Let their light shine on our joy as we recapture its brilliance. We all possess that power. Our reunions are a primary source. Sadly, those of us here who are among the original veterans of the 13th Armored Division are not immortal, and soon our lights will shine here no more. My 13th Armored Division experience was a key part of how it all happened. Allow me to go back into my memories and relate some small stories that put the whole idea in my mind. To do that I will employ some important dates, and how I relighted the memories that occurred.

They are as follows:       April 30, 1945

May 30, 1945

September 9, 2013

May 30, 2015

On each of those dates a significant connection occurred that hooked up my relighting circuit. Those connections are briefly dealt with as follows:

April 30, 1945

This story set the stage and it is necessarily longer than the other three. Other than just being there, in my view, I had not contributed much to my Company’s overall tasks as we engaged the enemy. Deep down, I had feelings that I could do more. My opportunity finally came on a very late date in our participation in the war.

After a brief skirmish with the enemy in the early afternoon, and they surrendered, we took in about 20 German prisoners. We were traveling so fast we had no way to accommodate and keep prisoners. The First Sergeant came to our Squad looking for someone to take the prisoners back through the territory we had just come through and turn them over to the 80th Infantry Division who was following up on our advance. I volunteered to take the prisoners back through where we had just had our skirmish and turn them over to the 80th.. Sergeant Smith said it would be a very dangerous task, and as we were spearheading our advance so fast, there would still be lots of Germans between us and where I would supposedly meet the 80th. Furthermore, there was no good way for me to be able to get back to A Company after I turned over the prisoners, as the situation was too fluid and confusing. No one really knew where they were, or were going to be. Also, they were advancing so fast that I knew catching up would not be easy.

I left my Company Task Force, and headed out with my prisoners in the direction of where I was told the 80th Division was supposed to be. I kept expecting to see German troops coming from almost any direction, as our task Force had penetrated deep into enemy held territory. It would have been no problem for any small group to overwhelm me and my prisoners. Don’t ask me why but somehow I was not afraid. Fortunately, nobody was out on the road I was taking.

Finally, after walking three miles or so, a small patrol of American soldiers approached us coming up the road from a westerly direction. I yelled at them as soon as I thought they could hear me and soon was able to speak with a Sergeant in the group that I had now identified as being from the 80th Infantry Division. They agreed to take over the prisoners, and thus enable me to try to get back to my Task Force.

I had been gone a good one and a half to two hours, and was probably eight to ten miles behind my group. I did not know the exact route to take to catch up with them, or anybody friendly for that matter. Incredibly, I was still not scared. I probably should have been. Anyway, I left my prisoners with the three soldiers from the 80th and started back on foot in the direction from which I came. I thought at that time, it would have been easy for any German in the area to cut me down, just walking alone down the road.

I went down the main road for about a mile, when all of a sudden a uniformed German came toward me on a small motorbike. I don’t think he realized I was a lone American soldier walking toward him on this lonely road. I don’t even think he was aware that we (Americans) were even close to being in this area. Before he realized who and what I was, I had raised my M1 rifle and made motions for him to stop and get off his motorbike. He got off his bike quickly, and didn’t reach for his 32 Caliber Walther Automatic Pistol he carried in a side holster. I asked him for the pistol, and he quickly took it out and handed it to me handle first. It was small, and I put it in my pocket, feeling safer that he couldn’t shoot me with that pistol anyway.

Somewhere in my head, I hatched the idea that I could use his motorbike to speed up the road and catch up with my Task Force. I then motioned him to show me how to start and operate the motorbike. I had never ridden a motorbike in my life, but I found myself in a situation where its use could be of great benefit to me to get back. Necessity was the mother of invention in this case.

He showed me that to start it you had to go from a walk up to a slow run on it for a short way, and when you had achieved a reasonable speed, let out the clutch and engage the small 2 cycle engine. I tried it a couple of times, and I caught on sufficiently well that I was confident I could restart it if I needed. I learned about speed control twist bars, clutch levers, and brake levers. All this instruction took place in a very short period of time, no more than 5 minutes. I was ready to go.

Down the road I went. Soon I reached the muddy road where our group had turned off in a southeasterly direction. I found going on this road was a real challenge. First, it was very muddy and slippery, and second, it had a very high crown. I slipped and fell off several times, adding cakes of mud to my already dirty and grimy clothes. I didn’t hurt myself, however. Being young and agile probably helped. I knew I was on their trail as the road was well gouged up with tank and halftrack tracks, so tracking them was easy on the muddy road. I was lucky they had taken it. It wasn’t too long after that episode that I happily caught up with my buddies in the Task Force. They were literally amazed to see me (and my commandeered motorbike). They thought they probably might never see me again. We were all happy in our reunion.

Amazingly, I learned at a much later time that while I was having my main contribution to what A Company was doing, my adventure was occurring simultaneously with the final day of Adolph Hitler’s life. Around the early part of the year 2000, I watched a TV program featuring an interview with Hitler’s Secretary, a lady named Traudl Junge. She described what was going on in Berlin, on that same day – April 30th. As you know he committed suicide in his underground bunker. She was there and heard the shot.. That shot was the end of it all for the Nazi’s. That day lives in my memories. I was glad I had a chance to make a significant contribution on that very day.

May 30, 1945 – described above

September 9, 2013

68 years later – without going into a long story, let me briefly state that in September 2013, I rejoined a world I had left long ago – the 13th Armored Division. I was welcomed with open arms. I was in a sense, a prodigal long lost brother. Furthermore, I regained some of the support I needed as I had just lost my wife of 62 years. A memorable moment, to be sure. It was made even more memorable by an experience I had in an up close story of another reconnection. That of a son of a father he had never seen or knew, but found support with those of us who were there when his Dad was killed.

There again, were two memorable events occurring at the same time. And shortly thereafter that reunion, I was made aware of another son whose father was killed when he was only three years old. He had few, if any, significant memories of his Dad. His story continues in my next important date that follows.

May 30, 2015

On that day Ronald Briggs, son of Thomas E. Briggs, his wife Anita, and I met in Fulton, NY and honored Thomas and all who died for us in that profound and ultimate expression of love of those who gave their lives. We visited the grave of PFC Thomas E. Briggs. Ronald, and I, each put on that same Battle Jacket that was issued on May 30, 1945. This time with all the appropriate insignia, and in PFC Thomas E. Briggs son’s case the Purple Heart he was awarded for his father’s sacrifice. To top it all off, I was born on May 30, 1925, so this day was also, my 90th birthday. A truly memorable Memorial Day.

The picture below shows Ronald and me (with cap), attired in my 13th Armored Division Battle Jacket, standing aside the grave of PFC Thomas E. Briggs. I had my daughter photo-shop it to show how the jacket itself was our connecting identity (you might note that Ronald was wearing his Dad’s Purple Heart).  The photo took place on May 30, 2015. The symbolism there is to show how the Battle Jacket represents all of us as family..

In fact, this day was the culmination of a sequence of events I was inspired to make possible as I experienced my first two 13th Armored Division reunions in 2013 and 2014. I had, for what I deeply believe, an experience at each of those reunions that touched me deeply. It was a revelation that fatherhood is the key to our survival. It came to me as I listened and observed two men of my children’s generation tell their stories about their missed fatherhood. Their message, though not directly spoken, came through to me as to how deeply important fatherhood is.

Motherhood is clearly obvious to all of us, and is precious and essential to life. It deserves all the honor and respect we can give. Fatherhood, on the other hand, is not as easy to appreciate, especially if one’s father has never been experienced. For the two men I observed, neither one had the privilege and opportunity to experience a father.

Like me, they searched for their missing support. In their cases, one they never experienced. They turned to their fathers support connections in the hopes of lighting some vision of a father they never experienced. They turned to the veterans attending the reunions of the 13th Armored Division. Just being in their presence, seemed to meet that need. One son whose father was killed within a few months after he was born and who had never had the opportunity to even see his son, began attending 13th Armored Division reunions in 2012. I have written a separate story about him.

Shortly after I learned of that son, I was made aware of another who couldn’t, because of health reasons, make it to a reunion (the one in 2014). When I learned of that, it came to me that I could play a part in lighting some part of a missing fatherhood experience. And to make it even more possible, I learned that this son only lived about 70 miles from where I live. It was a no problem deal. It would help us both. Helping comes from both giving and receiving. A win-win deal.

It was then that I decided to have a small memorial document made which included a 13th Armored Division logo and have each of us veterans sign it. I could then take it back with me, deliver it to the son of our KIA brother, and tell him all that I could about his father. His father happened to be in my very own Company A of the 59th Armored Infantry Battalion. A connection could be made. Memories are what we make in our lives, and what we take with us when we go to that big reunion in the sky. They are so important to us for that very reason.

The veteran’s son’s name was Ron Briggs, son of PFC Thomas E. Briggs. I was able to secure the help of Jo Ellen Bender who created a very presentable memorial document honoring PFC Thomas E. Briggs, which had a space for each veteran attending the 2014 reunion to sign. I then proceeded to have everyone listed to sign the document and took it home from the reunion.

 

2 thoughts on “The Battle Jacket”

  1. Bob, your experience of commandering that motorbike and a Nazi pistol is one I won’t soon forget. It was a delight for Jack and me to see you again at this year’s reunion in New Orleans.

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