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Praetorium Honoris

Sunday, April 18, 2021

Back Stories

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(Source)

S/Sgt Homer Kincaid, 3rd Platoon's new platoon sergeant, was sitting under a tree, rummaging through a ration carton, looking for something appetizing. He knew the likelihood of finding something was slim, the men had already picked through and found all the good ones. He found that all that was left was ham and lima beans. He thought about just skipping a meal, but he was ravenous, so he took it.

"Yummy." Kincaid said in a disgusted tone of voice.

"What's that Sir?" Pvt. Abel Simpson, one of the platoon's basic duty privates had walked over, he too was hungry.

"Nothing Private, just happy to find something to eat, even if it is ham and lima beans."

Simpson's eyes lit up, "Really? I'll trade you Sir, I love lima beans."

"Whaddaya got Private?"

"Meat and noodles, I hate noodles."

"Okay, I'll trade ya, have a seat, join me for dinner. What's yer name son?"

"Simpson, Abel Simpson."

"Buddies call ya Abe?"

"Yes Sir, they do."

"Pleased to meet ya Abe, and don't call me Sir, I'm a sergeant, okay?"


The man looked old, older than many of the Volkssturm that Charlie Company had faced to date. But this man was no Volkssturm trooper, he was regular German army. 1st Lt. Nate Paddock and Sgt. Melvin Katz were heading up to the lines to talk to the man. Doc Milbury had patched him up and had sent a runner back to fetch Katz. The lieutenant decided to tag along.

"I'm surprised you're back with the platoon L.T., I would've thought you'd done enough for the war effort." Katz was to the lieutenant's left and his gaze had taken in the nasty scar on the left side of Paddock's neck. In truth, the man was lucky to be alive. Another fraction of an inch and Paddock would have died on a snowy hillside in the Ardennes.

The two men came out of the woods near the small village of Schierke, another of the small picturesque towns the battalion had fought through in the Harz Mountains. The 26th Infantry Regiment was idled for a few days as their sister regiment, the 16th Infantry drove to the east, pinching the 26th out of the line. The men didn't mind, not at all.

But that morning a small German patrol had blundered into C Company's roadblock which was manned by men of Paddock's 2nd Platoon. Of the seven German infantrymen, six were sprawled in the road where machine gun fire had cut them down. The soul survivor was sitting against a stone wall, his left leg heavily bandaged, he and one of the new recruits, a Pvt. Dan Jackson were communicating via gestures and the few words of German which Jackson had learned in high school.

"Private, any useful information from this fellow?" Paddock asked.

"Well Sir, he's about fifty-something years old, this is his second war, and he's glad to be out of it. He smiles a lot Sir." Jackson answered.

Sgt. Katz thanked Jackson and told him to stick around, he could take the prisoner back after Katz had talked with him.

"So old fellow, this is your second war." Katz began.

The old Landser looked surprised at Katz' perfect German, though Austrian accented the old fellow had no trouble understanding Katz as the man was Bavarian and had lived not far from the border with Austria.

"Ja, ja, I was a Feldwebel in the first war. Wounded twice, once on the Marne in 1914, the second time near Amiens in 1918. Damned French tried to kill me twice they did. I sat out most of this war until after Stalingrad, we were running out of men, so I was called up."

"How old are you?"

"Fifty-nine, right now I feel like eighty. My name is Stefan Huber, 26th Volksgrenadier Division. Oberfeldwebel, I was in charge of those boys you fellows killed. I told them not to come this way, but you know the young, headstrong."

"Indeed. How is your leg?"

"Pretty bad, but I was hit worse in the first war, I'll live. Unless you Amis decide to shoot me, that is." The old soldier chuckled when he said that. But the laughter never reached the man's eyes Katz noticed.

Katz explained to Paddock what they had been talking about, Paddock asked, "He seems pretty cheerful, like he's seen it all and doesn't care any more. Why?"

Katz turned back to Huber, "Why do you laugh Oberfeldwebel, your men are dead, you're wounded, your country is losing the war. What is it that makes you laugh?"

Huber sighed and the smile went from his face, a dark shadow seemed to cross his visage as he looked up at Katz, "My wife was killed in a air raid on München, my two sons are dead, one in North Africa, the other in Russia. My daughter is a widow, her husband was also killed in Russia. I haven't heard from her in over a month, I don't even know if she's still alive. But I am, and I mean to find her if I survive the war. If I don't survive, at least I'll be with my wife and boys. Things are so bad, I have to laugh, or go insane. Maybe I've already gone insane."

Katz turned to Paddock, "Yes Sir, he's seen a lot." After explaining the man's story to the lieutenant, Paddock told Jackson to get a couple of other men and help the Kraut to the aid post.


Kincaid had his shirt off, he was using his helmet as a makeshift washtub. After cleaning himself up as best as he could, he was getting dressed again. That's when one of the men noticed the heavy scarring across the sergeant's stomach.

"Jesus Sarge, how did that happen?" Cpl. Glenn Cline, the company clerk had trouble looking away, he recognized a bad wound when he saw one. "Why aren't you back in the States, seems you've done enough."

As Kincaid buttoned his shirt he looked over at Cline, "I'm career Army, corporal. I enlisted in 1925, an awfully long time ago it feels. Hell, some of the men I rode up with on the truck were born after I joined up. This is my life."

"But you should have been sent home with a wound like that." Cline insisted.

"Sure, I could have. But my buddies were still fighting, my men were still on the lines. So after the wound sort of healed up, I convinced the Army to let me recuperate here, then when I felt well enough, I came back up. I wanted to come back in December, but the docs all said I wasn't healed enough. But now I am and now here I am." Kincaid finished dressing as 1st Lt. Nathaniel Gonzales came into the barn the 1st Platoon was using as a CP.

"Ready to check the positions with me Sarn't Kincaid?"

"Yes Sir, let's have a look. It's been a while since I've been in action, anything new I should know about?" Kincaid and the lieutenant left the barn, Gonzales filling Kincaid in on all that had gone on in the unit over the past few months.

"Well don't that beat all?" Sgt. Don Arnold said.

"Why's he only a Staff Sergeant?" Cline asked, he checked his watch as he said that, he had to get back to the Company CP soon.

"He's old Army Glenn, wasn't nothing for those guys to get promoted, get busted, then get promoted again. I suspect our platoon sergeant has done that, probably a couple of times. Hell, he joined the Army the year I was born!" Arnold shook his head, "He's old school, that one is."


"Mitch, get in here!" Cpt. Stephen Hernandez had a piece of paper in his hand which concerned him, why hadn't his XO mentioned this?

"Sir?" 2nd Lt. Mitch Hornsby was a 90-day wonder, he had dropped out of college in the summer of 1944 and headed to the recruiter's office shortly after the family had received notice of his younger brother's death in the Pacific on Saipan. He had wanted to join up earlier but his father insisted he finish his education first, he was within a year of getting his medical degree.

"Why didn't you tell me that the Army Medical Corps wanted you." Hernandez waved the paper in the air, "Says here you're close to being a doctor."

"They wanted me as a medical assistant, Sir. Really though, my grades in school were terrible, I was starting to question my 'desire' to be a doctor."

"You don't sound like that was ever your desire, Mitch."

"No Sir, my Dad is a doctor, both grandfathers are doctors. It's kind of the family business. When Jack, my younger brother, enlisted right out of high school in 1943, my parents were furious. I was envious. Everybody was going off to war. Except me. So, first chance I had, I joined up. Because I had a college degree, the Army sent me to OCS. And now here I am."

"Okay, I get it. Any more secrets Lieutenant?"

"No Sir. Well, yes Sir, one."

"And that is?"

"I actually wanted to be a pilot. I sent in an application before I shipped out, I haven't heard anything back yet."

Hernandez shook his head and chuckled, "Well Mitch, if I see anybody from the Army Air Forces looking for you, I'll let you know. But for now, you're still my exec. Sometime in the next couple of days I'll take you up to see the war. You might wish you'd stayed in college after that. Dismissed."

Hornsby left the captain's office, actually the sitting room of a private residence, and wondered why people couldn't understand why he wanted to be here. He desperately wanted to fight. The Japanese had killed his brother, he had wanted to go to the Pacific, but the Army sent him to Europe.

Well, he thought, when the Germans quit, they'll need men to fight the Japanese, then I'll transfer, fast as I can.

The ignorance of youth...




Link to all of the Chant's fiction.

54 comments:

  1. Fortunately some of us survive the ignorance of youth; strong as it is. Even having no experience in losing family to war (despite opportunities, we are a fortunate bunch) I think I can understand the motivation. With his motivation and skills properly channelled by a wise Mustang this man could become a true asset.
    Boat Guy

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    1. Truth be told, I look back and wonder how I made it past my 20s!

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    2. In my case it can only have been a merciful God
      BG

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  2. An interesting post. Feel for the old Landser having lost just about everyone and everything. As for the 2nd Lt., be careful of what you ask for......you just might get it (sigh). Well done Sarge.

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    1. Especially since excitement can find you pretty easily right behind the lines. Mines, vengeful idiots, fanatics, bad tin of food...

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    2. War is dangerous anywhere near the front.

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  3. I can relate to the LT. I was described once as a well meaning puppy that tripped over everything. Those that have been there, know it's no picnic. Those that haven't feel like they missed out on making a difference.

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    1. Ah yes, junior officers as well-meaning puppies, a phrase I have used more than once.

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  4. The more I look back, the more I realize just how ignorant I was as a youth - and that was back in the day we had actual adults around for the most part.

    An note about missing out: My material grandfather worked in the utilities field and as a results was considered the equivalent of today's "essential personnel" and as a result, was not allowed to enlist. I have heard from my father multiple times that this always bothered him a great deal.

    Lima beans. You have to be pretty starved to consider lima beans...

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    1. I actually like lima beans, though that particular C-Ration meal does not do them justice.

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    2. Never could stomach limas in any form. First meal in Boot camp; fried baloney, lima beans and grits. Never attempted the c-rat "meal" which thankfully was becoming more rare in my c-rat days.
      Boat Guy

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    3. Oh dear, that would turn me off from Army chow.

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    4. When my sister was very young, my grandfather told her they would put hair on her chest. She has refused to eat them from that day.

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    5. T'wasn't Army chow, to be fair ...
      BG

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    6. BG - Right, Navy chow. We Air Force types are always confused at bad food. We don't run into it all that often...

      😁

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    7. Lima beans, kidney beans, and corn all dried, not canned. Sometimes we got a piece of meat, usually salt pork, whatever we had ration coupons for until the end of rationing. Not every day but once or twice a week. I still cook some up occasionally, but wife refuses to partake. She was born in 45. Old Guns

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    8. should have been a coma after corn.

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    9. OG - Doesn't sound all that appetizing. Of course, it beats starving, by a long shot.

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    10. Yup, got that from the context.

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    11. Mom never cooked lima beans or kidney beans when we were kids growing up. She told us once she had had plenty of them during WW2 and had gotten her fill. She said the same thing, that it was was her Mom could get, and with 4 kids to feed, ya ate what there was or went hungry.

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    12. Sounds like my Uncle Charlie with Spam. The Army fed him a lot of that.

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    13. I brought a spam sandwich to work once, old Dub, got up and stormed out, cussing SPAM for all he was worth. Same thing when I brought a small tin of fruit cocktail. Seems he got stuck a few times eating nothing but in WW2 for days on end. He couldn't even stand the sight of them, much less the smell.

      I never brought them again.

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    14. I'm familiar with that reaction. 😁

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    15. (Don McCollor)...Remember a sampling trip for work when I stocked up on Spam and Kimchi for lunches (with the sureness that no one else would "borrow" any of it. In fact, most left the lunch trailer when I started making a sandwich with the two...

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    16. We've been known to have that for supper now and again. A good combo!

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  5. sometimes the bits and pieces of filling that fell in the pie dish when cutting the portions are almost better than the slice

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  6. At that stage of the game, too many Germans had much the same tale to tell. And it was getting that way in Japan, too. And, sadly, getting that way to an extent in the US, just withouth the direct bombings.

    Regular Army since 1925. Wow. Okay, his chance of being a screwup are reduced severely. Good. Our boys don't need any more screwups.

    And thanks for taking them off the line for a couple of days. They and us needed that.

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    1. Everyone needed a break. Including the author!

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  7. Sarge, not that I’m rushing you or anything, but when are you going to put this altogether and publish it so I can throw a few shekels your way?

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    1. Well, the story will wrap up around the 8th of May. (VE Day and my birthday.) After that it's compiling all the various pieces, smoothing the rough edges, then publishing. Hopefully sometime this summer. First book so I'm really a rookie at this.

      Oh yeah, thanks!

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  8. Those particular ham and lima beans we called “choke and puke“ it was always a disgusting gelatin that floated to the top.

    When I was in Germany when I first got there a few things intrigued me. Such as at the entrance of virtually every public restroom was an old woman who took a few coins before you went in.

    I always thought that was a curiosity until sometime later learned it was a tradition following World War II.

    There were so many widows with no means of support. They were supposed to keep the restroom clean; some did and some didn’t.

    Your story of the old army guy reminded me of an ex neighbor of mine. He was a character and I didn’t know how much of his stories were BS.

    But he was in the Marines; and enlisted at age 16 and was at Tarawa. And Saipan. Then called up before Korea and was at the chosin reservoir

    He took me to a marine reunion of the chosin and there was a few army guys there.

    Because they were out there too.

    Anyway he said he’d been sergeant and busted back to private so many times he felt that he was on an elevator.

    He had a problem with hitting officers it seems

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    1. Generally speaking, officer training isn't complete until they've been clobbered at least once by an enlisted man. Sometimes justified, sometimes not. Either way, it's all part of a well rounded education.

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  9. I will apologize for being late, but the Honey Do spring time list needed whittling down.

    Navy chow wasn't perfect, why once in a while they'd have steak and lobster tail night on the mess decks, and they never actually got my medium rare steak order exactly right.

    I have no experience at all with C or K rations, and I'm OK with that.

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    1. Yeah, actually you did; c-rat pound cake with your peaches. I also liked Turkey Loaf.
      While I heard of Ham and Limas, I never encountered them.
      We kept the MRE cheese spread and peanut butter in our pockets for E&E food. The cheese was cut with butter making it nearly perfect for the purpose.
      Boat Guy

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  10. "Don't call me 'sir.' I work for a living!"

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  11. Hey AFSarge;

    "Lima Beans and Ham C-Rats" We called that "Beans and MotherF---ers". The old Vietnam vets Called them that and the tradition continued....than we got MREs. "Meals Rejected by Ethiopians" Between the Cheese Spread and the Peanut Butter, you were regular, LOL. SSG KinKaid was "The Old Breed", they were the Army between the War, very small Professional Army between the War, Was the Nucleus that was used to build the Wartime Army. The Story of the Lanser was a typical story and all so common, people forgot that cost of the war, and I had forgotten that tradition about the Old Lady in the bathroom until you mentioned it.

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    1. The term I heard was "Ham and Motherf*ckers" but again never had them. I remember "Beans and Balls" ( Beans and meatballs).
      There's something about watching the rain drop off your helmet into your cold spaghetti ( for breakfast) that builds a certain " resilience" in you.
      Boat Guy

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    2. BG - Rain dripping off the helmet. BTDT

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  12. I realize this is a repeated theme/comment of mine, and it is the end of a lost war for Germany long before this point, but I'll say it again. Throwing 60 year old men into war and using children to defend towns as the regular army retreats? Desperation and futility that is unconscionable. I know Clausewitz would say throw everything you have at war if you choose to go that route, but if you're willing to sacrifice the too young and too old, and that this option is even a possibility, what the hell are you fighting for? Nazis and the militaristic society that was Japan were some of the most evil, insane, and sociopathic killers the world had ever known. That is, until the next evil, insane, sociopaths came around.

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    1. Yup, evil men in high places trying to preserve their privilege at all costs.

      Hhmm...

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