 After Troyner, they sent us back to England. Our new CG, General Huebner, put us through the jumps again. We practiced for another beachhead. But this one we knew was going to be the payoff. The biggest show of all. The curtain went up on June 6, 1944. Power's a big town in Nebraska, not anymore. To me, it's a piece of beach in Normandy that was held. We were getting crowded until remordering machine gunfire like rain. Without even an umbrella for protection. We came close to being rained out, all right. But when Colonel Taylor of the 16th yelled, Get the hell off the beach! We got the hell off. And ran smack into hedgerow country where the crowd set up the fields like forts, using the hedgerows for walls. Like a Chinese puzzle out of hell. We'd clean up one field only to find out the next was loaded with jerry. Had to keep digging all the time for cover from 88s and mortars. Because if you didn't, still in a week's time, we dug, shot and plowed our way to Kaumont. Where we waited for the other office to come up on our flanks. The French were tickled to see the Superman getting licked by plain American doffy. Who were human beings too? We got a chance to clean up and tell the folks back home how we were doing. It had to be a short note though. Because a big blow up was brewing. It came on July 25th. When it seemed the whole damn air core got in on a big bust around Sun Low. The North Tackle Clay was to the town. The 4th and 9th divisions opened up a nice big hole. And the first charge through. Patton's tanks went running all over like frisky colts chopping up the panicky crows. But it was the doff or who did the cleaning up. Combat engineers dug up mines like fat cabbages. Cleared away roadblocks. And all the time the infantry kept coming along for the final kill. It was slugging and slogging. Shoot and march. Grab a nap when you could. Eat while you hiked. Sea rations, caves. And a lot of dust. That's what the school books call victorious pursuit. Eating dust. Even when they put you on trucks, you ate dust. It was a hell of a way to seal our bell France. But we sure covered ground. From Coutance in a month, we drove a right away clear across France. Through Soissons with a red one smeared Jerry 26 years ago. Rolled across the Belgian border. Bagged 17,000 Hines in a three day scrap around Monts. And kept scooping them up all the way to the Siegfried line. We cracked it in three days. Drove a claim into Hitler's backyard around Arkham. It looked like the final round was coming up. We did some preparing. Hitler decided to hold out in Arkham. Papped up the Germans by making it a symbol of Nazi resistance. Gave them a slogan too. You were fighting for the honor of the National Socialist German Army. He said. He fought hard too. House to house. For weeks. But we had a slogan too. No mission too difficult. No sacrifice too great. Duty first. In the payoff our slogan had more punch. We cleaned them out. House by house. Street by street. Till on the 21st of October, Arkham. For what was left of it. Surrendered. We hadn't seen the worst yet. Hurtgan Forrest showed us that and down the outfit. But we cleaned out Jerry. Then General Andrus, our new CG, pulled us out for our first rest in six months. We couldn't believe it. Even when we got back to Verveer in Belgium, we knew it was too good to last. It didn't. Hitler shot the works with one last gamble in the Ardennes. And back in the line we went to hold the northern shoulder of the bulge. There's an old story for the red one. Mean weather. Jerry beating his brains out attacking. The Sconder attacking. For keeps. When we got rolling again after the bulge, we found the Rhine River ahead of us. It looked like a big ditch for Doefeet to jump. But the 9th Armored grabbed a weird looking bridge at Remargan. And we got over fast. And after that we just threw away the brakes and kept rolling. Plowed right through the belly of Germany. When they told us in May the war was over, do you know where we were? Czechoslovakia. Yeah. Czechoslovakia. And brother, were we tired? You know they call the infantry the Queen of Battle. Don't ask me why. You wouldn't say those guys look pretty, would you? Soldiers will do their job.