when aggravated, with large dangerous tusks, but we were armed and in great shape. I never saw a wild boar that day. I think it was a hoax. Every morning we would wake to reveil- le. As the trumpet blared, I would quickly prep myself and assemble for roll call. The flag would be formally raised and the officer of the day would talk to us with a Sergeant and a Lieutenant flanking either side. The routine consisted of mission orders, sick call, taking Atabrine pills under the watchful eye of each other, and special assignments. Everyone’s favorite part of the assembly was mail call. We thrived on mail from home. I got letters from mother and Ida, but I kept looking for a letter from Carol Marker. She was the girl I thought of while I was away. Eventually, I did end up getting a letter, but it wasn’t from her, it was from Ida. She said, ‘Sorry to tell you Carol got married.’ Far from home, this left me despondent. Meanwhile, with all the prevention we put into place, I still got deathly sick with Dengue fever. Here I was in a make-shift hospital preparing to help others, lying in bed sick as a dog. I got so sick I had to be evacuated. The recovery was 1-2 weeks. I don’t remember much of this as I was pretty much out of it, but I got better and returned to duty. According to historical medical reports, nine men, of which eight were officers, came down with dengue and one enlisted man came down with Malar- ia. The one with malaria was hospitalized. That must have been me. I guess I had malaria not dengue. Not long after I returned, I was injured again. This time by an exploding stove. I was sent back the hospital for a second time. We were situated near the enemy; they were just beyond our range. Long guns in the mountains tried to dislodge our men on the nearby ridge. Artillery casualties were sent to us. Those long-range guns rang out through- out the day and night. Our unit had its own perimeter guards. We all shared that task. Each night we walked guard duty. Everyone had to take his turn, two-hour shifts around the clock. If someone approached you were required to say, “Halt, who goes there?”
In May, Platoon 1 shipped off with half of our outfit. I remained with Platoon 2. One day it started to rain. For days on end turning to weeks, it never stopped. We had mud up to our ankles. I remember playing bridge with some guys to pass the time. One game lasted three days and nights! I remember an interesting incident that happened as I was moving through the jungle in full field gear, wearing my helmet, ammu- nition belt, and rifle. I stepped into a clearing and out of the other side stepped four native boys in G-strings. The oldest was no more than nine or ten. The rest were ranging down to six. All of us were startled. Standing there, looking at each other, I remembered that German missionaries had been to New Guin- ea about twenty-five years before. To break the tension I spoke to them in Yiddish. Pointing towards each, I counted, “eyns, tsvey…” To my amazement, they finished the count, “drei, funf,” in German. Four stone-age children were speaking words in German! When it wasn’t raining, we had an outdoor movie theater with a makeshift screen. Fallen coconut tree trunks were our seats. The movie always broke several times during the view- ing. This caused all kinds of hoots and hollers among the men.
Herman’s Shoulder Patch US Army Pacific Command USARPAC SSI Patch WWII
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