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Upstarts
The night before we left camp for the ship, I had prepared maps for issue. Maps were my
responsibility. We, especially Battalion Headquarters and the Ln O's, would need them at once
upon landing. However, since the general area where we were to land was Top Secret, only a few
of us had been briefed on it. If any of those maps fell into the hands of enemy informers - and
anyone, including my friend the second mate of the ship, might be one - the whole landing
operation could be jeopardized. So I separated the maps into sets, one for each person who would
need them, and sealed each set into a fiber container normally used to carry a round of 105mm
ammunition. The sealed containers were carried onto the ship by a detachment of enlisted men
carefully selected as sober, responsible, and intelligent enough to understand the grisly threats as
to what would happen to anyone who lost one. Once we were at sea, we issued the maps and
briefed everyone as best we could on what was going to happen. Or what the plan said was going
to happen.
Elaborate preparations were made for gas (external) attack. We all had gas masks, a new,
lighter model than the ones we had worn, cursing, all through maneuvers. And we had
waterproofed them by sticking tape over the end of the canister to keep out water or even moist
air. However, on shipboard it turned out to be hard to wear gas masks and life-vests at the same
time, so most of us carried the life-vests and stashed the gas masks somewhere.
We also wore impregnated fatigue clothes over our woolen uniforms to protect us from
blistering gases. The fatigues were stiff and smelly and the chemicals in them balled up under
your fingernails when you scratched. Shoes were treated with impregnite, a thick gummy grease
that made the shoes about as flexible as a pair of wooden sabots. I put the gunk on my shoelaces
and was able to hold one out as rigid as a baseball bat when I was through.
You might think that wearing all these gas-proof garments in June would have been
sweltering, but you just don't know about the English Channel. I doubt if it ever gets warm
enough for comfort there.
The main problem with the fatigues was the pants pockets. There were only two: saddle
patch pockets with flaps, located just over the hip joint, so that it was impossible to reach into
one without unbuttoning the pants. I had a K-ration box in each pocket, so I could not lie down
on either side. I tried lying on my back on the little settee, and then on my stomach. Finally I
decided that if the ship went down I could drown just as well without my impregnated trousers,
and took them off to sleep.
Sleep was what I did most of the time on the ship, probably 14 to 16 hours a day. We had
done a lot of sleeping while crossing the Atlantic, too, so I thought that it was the effect of the
ship's motion or the salt air, but I have traveled by ship since without that effect, so I know now
that it was caused by fear or apprehension, combined with a feeling of helplessness. On land, we
could do something useful. We could move, communicate, and shoot. Or dig holes to hide in.
Here and now we could only wait and take turns fearing the worst and hoping for the best.
6
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