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Upstarts
To the north, down the steep slope of Hill 122, I could see the hedgerow-enclosed fields
and groves we had fought over to get our present toehold on the hilltop. Fought with the enemy
sitting on this hill and able to see every move we made. I had supposed that when-if-we made it
to the top, we could see down the other side, but it hadn't worked that way. The slope on the
south side was more gradual, and it was covered by the Foret de Mont Castre, an almost
impenetrable growth of trees and underbrush which cut off observation beyond a few yards.
I returned my gaze to the artichoke, which was now cool enough to eat. Joe B. Davis's
skepticism had begun to shake me. It looked like an artichoke, except that I had never seen one
quite that small. I remembered that artichokes are in the thistle family; maybe this was just a
large thistle. Are thistles edible? If not, do they just taste bad, or are they poisonous? Do they
catch in your throat and strangle you?
Well, there was only one way to find out. I pulled off the first leaf, and as I raised it to my
mouth, I saw Joe B. Davis lean forward anxiously. He was probably wondering how he would
explain my unfortunate demise when he went back to the battalion. ["Well, sir, I tried to tell him,
but you know how he is-was ... "]
It tasted like artichoke. Would have been better with mayonnaise, of course, but I didn't
have any, or even melted butter. But it was good anyhow. After I got down to the heart, gouged
out the prickly stuff in the middle, and ate the rest of the base, I offered the second one to Joe B.
Davis, thinking that I had now proved that it was harmless. But the ridiculous sight of my
peeling off a leaf at a time and eventually throwing most of it away anyhow had turned him off
further than ever, so I ate the second one too.
Then I strolled back over to the captain who commanded the Company C, 315th Engr Bn,
and reminded him that I was his artillery forward observer. Both of us needed reminding,
because I had never acted as FO before, nor was he used to his role as an infantryman. The 359th
Infantry, the regiment we both supported, was so depleted that they couldn't defend their whole
front line against possible counter-attack. They had called on the engineers to plug the gap, and
the 915th Field Artillery Battalion had to give them artillery support, including an FO. As
Battalion S-2, it was my job to coordinate and assign observers, and I was fresh out of observer
parties to assign: they were all out with infantry companies.
So I went myself. It was kind of a vacation, really. I was tired of sitting at the telephone
in front of the situation map in the battalion command post [CP] and explaining to the Div Arty
S-2 that I didn't know all the details they wanted about what was going on up at the front lines
because I was having trouble getting through on the telephone to the forward observers and
liaison officers up there. And if the Div Arty S-2 would get off the line long enough, I could
keep on trying. So I was glad enough to leave Tech Sgt Johnson, my operations sergeant, to field
the flak and go off as an FO. Up with the engineers, I might be shelled by artillery and shot at by
small arms, but at least I'd be with people who appreciated me.
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