Then on the night of August 18, 1944, while working with his platoon to keep ammunition flowing to the rifle squads, a bullet struck Phil in his left arm.[1]

“Medic! Medic!” his radioman called as he reached for gauze, which he unwrapped and pushed against the wound.

The medic ran up. Pulling off the gauze, he inspected the wound. “Looks like a ‘through and through,’ Lieutenant. No muscle or nerve involvement.”

The medic sprinkled the wound with sulfa powder and re-dressed the area. “Let’s get you a shot of morphine, and I’ll take you back to the hospital.”

“Hospital?” Phil said.

“Yup. Three 400-bed evacuation hospitals are being erected, one supporting each of our divisions. Lucky you. The first U.S. Army nurses are arriving here in good ol’ southern France tomorrow. You’ll get great care.”

“Bullshit!” Phil exclaimed. “It’s a flesh wound. I’ll be fine.”

“As you wish, sir. But I’m putting you in for a Purple Heart for this one.”

Just over the hill, they heard small arms fire and another scream of “Medic! Medic!”

The medic handed Phil a small bottle of sulfa tablets. “Starting tomorrow, take two twice a day until gone. Gotta go!” the soldier shouted as he sprinted in the direction of the shooting.

“Those guys deserve the Infantry Combat Badge just like infantrymen, don’t you think, Lieutenant?” the radioman asked.

Phil nodded. “Damn right!” He respected and admired the medics for how they saved lives. Every frontline soldier felt the same way.[2,3]

~~~~~

On August 18th, the 2nd Battalion, 30th Infantry coordinated an attack on the city of Brignoles, the 2nd Battalion, attacked straight into the city with the 3rd Battalion, 30th Infantry attacking to the north of the town with the 3rd Battalion of the 15th to the south of Brignoles.[4]

~~~~~

Most of our time in southern France was spent running around trying to find the enemy. The 30th Reconnaissance section was in action most of the time running into minor roadblocks and they would not even bother to call on us to help, as they would take care of it themselves. It seemed like for several days after we landed all we did was go through village after village and drink wine and kiss the girls. However when we got to Brignoles the Germans made up their minds to make a stand.

C Company was going to make the attack with the anti-tank platoon’s second squad — which I was in charge of — ordered to swing around the left to put up a roadblock to stop the enemy coming from that direction. About an hour before C Company went into action, we set out to put in our roadblock. As we approached the area we found that the enemy had all ready put in their own roadblock. It was just starting to be daybreak and we could see the long barrel of an 88mm all-purpose gun silhouetted against the brightening sky and pointed toward town. Now we had to make a decision.

The decision to attack was left to Sgt. Leaser. He told half the squad to go to the left flank and half to the other and I was to stay where I was and open up with my B.A.R. three minutes after they left and keep firing for two minutes as fast as I could. When I quit firing the rest of the squad was on the position and the Krauts all took off. I’m sure they thought a whole company was attacking. An hour later when it was completely daylight one of our men was scrounging around and located a cave that served as a supply depot. He went in to see what he could find and one of his finds was a Kraut that he took prisoner. Somebody found a box of cigars in the cave so after breakfast we all sat around smoking cigars and feeling that we had completed our mission. C company would have had one hell of a time with that 88 if it was left up on that hill to shoot the hell out of them.

Good old Charley Company never knew that anti-tank guys helped save their butts at Brignoles. They really had a tuff time that day with 40 casualties and the company commander was relieved of duty that day. He was sent back to the quartermasters corps from which he came. He supposedly came up to revenge his brother who was seriously wounded at Anzio but this revengeful brother didn’t know a damn thing about infantry tactics.

The following day A Company was thrown in to help out and Brignoles was ours in the first hour. The anti-tank second squad gave up the roadblock and we moved on.

The 30th Infantry … after fighting though the night … the American attackers took Brignoles and the surrounding area.[5]

~~~~~

[1] Larimore, At First Light, 126.

[2] Ibid, 126-127

[3] Ibid, 126. Phil was saddened when he learned that the medic who treated him was killed in action later that night. Most field medics were popular, highly respected, and called “Doc” by the frontline men who bitterly resented the War Department refusal—based on the need to maintain the medics’ Geneva Convention noncombatant status—to grant eligible enlisted medics the Combat Infantry Badge and the ten dollars a month extra pay that went with it. In some ETO divisions riflemen collected money from their own wages to give their medics their combat bonus. Five enlisted medics in Europe received the Medal of Honor; hundreds of others won Silver or Bronze Star medals for valor. Finally, the Army instituted the Combat Medical Badge in January 1945 in recognition of medics’ role in combat.

[4] Third Overseas Two Years. The Third Division Front Line. October 25, 1944. Vol 1, No. 1, page 6.

[5] Staff Sergeant Charles O. Beardslee. Dogface Soldiers Memoirs. Southern France: August 15, 1944.

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