CHAPTER III
On August 26th we were again on our way, this time towards Fountainbleau 170 miles away.
Our route took us through many places, the largest being Château Dun, Pithiviers and into the outskirts
of Fountainbleau, itself.
The trip to this historical town, home of the famous Summer Palace and gardens of the Kings of
France, was the longest single road march that we had yet made since we set foot on French soil, and
proved to be of great interest to all. After leaving our bivouac at Marmouille, the first great difference
was a sudden disappearance of hedgerows. The plain fields of France were just like the typical
midwestern area of America. The most amazing thing was a complete lack of enemy planes, we did not
see a single plane the whole trip. Another thing was the lack of signs of war. Here and there we saw an
abandoned German vehicle, but saw very little damage done, other than a few places that have been
bombed.
Fountainbleau, the summer place for moneyed Parisians, an old city, yet modern. The streets
lined with those ever famous sidewalk cafes, and restaurants. The towns gave us Americans a very
warm reception. We passed through the center of the city in the evening when everyone was out sitting
around doing some social "elbow bending".
The afternoon of the twenty-seventh saw us preparing to cross the Seine River, where the
engineers had done their usual excellent job of putting in a pontoon bridge. Antiaircraft guns defended
both sides of the river against possible air attacks. Approaches to the bridge were jammed with heavy
traffic, double columns of armor, artillery, ack-ack batteries, and other units. Slowly, surely, we crossed
the bridge and climbed up the sharp, winding road that led to the ground east of Fountainbleau. Thirty-
five miles rolled behind us that day as we went into bivouac near the town of Chenthee. The next
morning started another typical day of moving in leaps and bounds. As dusk came upon us, burning
haystacks could be seen in the distance. TDs were moving out ahead of us firing into the stacks as they
afforded excellent concealment for enemy self-propelled guns and tanks. The fire from these long
burning piles illuminated the immediate areas too well, our vehicles were silhouetted against the skyline
– well set up targets for any Jerry who might be waiting for us. But our luck held good until we hit
Jonchey-Sur-Vesle, where an ack-ack gun truck hit a mine while pulling to the side of the road, and
blew up. For over an hour 40 mm, 50 caliber machine gun, and bazooka ammo, filled the rain soaked
night with battle sounds. Captain Danovsky, Headquarters Battery, was killed near the same spot,
earlier in the day by a mine. His driver, Cpl. Jim Shaw of B Battery, died from wounds caused by the
same explosion.
August 30th we moved towards Rheims, famous city of Cathedral and Champagne.
Unfortunately the powers that be decided against our entry into this beautiful city that beckons so
invitingly from the distance of six kilometers. From high ground we can see the twin towers of the
celebrated cathedral reaching for the sky. Just as successfully as stretching out our hands for a glass of
"Dry Monopolie", six kilometers from heaven. We went into position near St. Masmes.
The "bitches" of yesterday turned into the pleased grins of today, September 1st. Men from the
Battalion could go to Rheims for a few hours. The fortunate few had a splendid day for sightseeing and
tasting. Here was the French spirit at its best, both the human and bottle varieties. Expensive? Well,
what was it worth to those who had been "a little too busy" to visit a city in three months? To those the
price was secondary – to walk a street, to admire a statue, to look in a store window, to flirt with the girl,
to drink in a city sparkled in the bright sun. Below there also was an abundance of effervescent wine,
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