Dad’s 30 th Infantry Regiment had turned north and was quickly driving up the Rhone Valley.[1] One of the men in dad’s unit, Sgt. Norman Mohar wrote this in his memoire:
Somewhere after Aix en Province … I can vaguely recall now riding on a Fender of Mac’s weapons carrier up front where I could enjoy the scenery.
We were moving so fast that my face was wind burned and also from the August sun. All of us were getting a Southern France tan. We didn’t realize that we were in France’s resort country. Vineyards included. It was a pleasant war compared to Anzio.
I remember our unit tearing through town after town with civilians lining our pathway cheering and greeting us. Some offering drinks. I now had a camera which I “liberated’–but there was no film! I also had “liberated” a box camera with no film.
It turned out to be a fun thing though. As we passed through the throngs of French girls, I would point the camera at them and get their immediate attention. I would snap the shutter and pretend that I had a ‘winner’ snap shot.
Just a simple box Kodak with no film! What fun I had!
We passed throngs of people in a town named Carpentras. Our unit went through streets which were tree lined. Most of the town was intact because the retreating German army chose not to hold the town too vigorously.
Then soon we felt resistance. No longer able to ride, I remember being assigned to one of the rifle companies – most likely Company E.
I carried my rations and a pack of TNT weighing 18 pounds and my rifle as we marched (hiked) through a heavily wooded area on a flanking move to try to out flank a large German convoy in retreat.
I was a zombie in all this. Not much information is given “trigger pullers” it seemed. Just Latrine-o-grams and scuttle butt.
It was only when being fired upon that you knew what you were supposed to do. It was a battle brewing.
I remember we came upon a farm house and farm yard. Much the same scene as in America. The house was painted yellow. We milled around having a rest only to have to plod on further in a short time.
The radios delivered a message to tell us that the flanking movement was successful. The results were tremendous losses to the fleeing German Army.
Eventually we crossed the railroad track and a road parallel which was the route the retreating German convoy intended to take.
We were saved the agony of encountering the retreating German army. An artillery barrage clipped the rails to stop the train.
Other artillery laid waste to countless German army personnel and equipment. There were dead horses strewn around and of course the area was cluttered with dead German soldiers.
It was a monumental victory,.
At a reunion, I spoke to the officer in charge of the artillery which was credited with the rail hit. He called it a “lucky round.”[2]
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[1] Prohme, 236.
[2] Sgt. Norman Mohar’s WWII Story. In: Chapter 7. http://tinyurl.com/kk54j99
[3] Sgt. Norman Mohar’s WWII Story. In: Chapter 7. http://tinyurl.com/kk54j99
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