T H E K I N G ’ S B U S I N E S '
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I WASA PRISONER OFWAR, BUT ROD. . . ByPvf. RodneyW.Leonard, U. S. Infantry
Have you ever wondered what it must be like to be a captive in enemy territory? Read■this heart-moving ac count of a Christian mans experience.
œ HE year of 1944 began as auspiciously as any other of my thirty-two years of life. I was in perfect health, weighing two hundred and sixty pounds I had a lovely wife and two fine children. I lived in a nice house and drove a good car. Better still, I was a Christian —even a Sunday School superintendent—to whom my pastor and church meant much. There was not a cloud on my horizon; I was satisfied with my lot; the future looked as rosy as possible. But sometimes at night, I was uneasy; I was vaguely apprehensive that all of this was too good to last. I had a definite 'feeling that some thing was going to happen. It did! It came one day in the form of an innocent-looking, official envelope from the War Department of the United States of America. I was drafted March 20; basic and advanced training followed; then a Port of Embarkation, and on September 11, I was on my way overseas. It seemed no time at all until I found myself, with my comrades, in a deep, dark woods of southeastern Germany, fighting for my life. The soft existence amid the lovely orange groves of Southern California had faded like a beautiful dream. Hurtgen Forest We were an Infantry Replacement Unit of the Ninth Division of thé First Army. We were inside of the forty- mile deep Siegfried Line, and, although a part of the United States forces engaged in the mighty siege of Aachen, our immediate objective was Bonn, .and our general objective Cologne. g Our company had been stalemated for days in this sector. Within fifty yards of the enemy, we would advance a bit, then fall back under their fire, taking prisoners as we retreated. Again we would attack, only to be met with fierce resistance. Not only were the mortar and artillery bombardment's heavy, but at the same time the United States Air Forces were strafing the German lines in front of us. It was a scene of unutterable norror and din as we .engaged in mortal combat. No wonder our squad leader said to the new recruits: “If you last more than three days in here, you are a veteran!”
Hurtgen Forest was dense, the trees averaging twenty to thirty feet in height, at the base of which we found cover. The shells were flying so thick and fast that often we dared not lift our heads; some of the men put their helmets on sticks and straightway holes were shot through them. But on Friday, October 13, we felt we had done pretty well. We had made a fair advance and had taken about fifty prisoners. But suddenly the German infantry took on new life; they apeared to be closing in with their automatic rifles. One of our company got it in the leg—a compound fracture. We hastily retreated, and since night ,was beginning to fall when it was impossible for either side to find targets in the pitch blackness, we began digging slit trenches for ourselves. The Germans came on. We left them our nice new trenches and started others farther back. Still they advanced. We were digging our third trenches before we felt that we dared to halt. We posted guards at two-hour periods with orders to shoot without warning anything that moved in front of us, and attempted to secure some belated sleep. Capture All at once an order came that we were wanted at the command post in the rear; we were told to assemble all of our rifles and ammunition. So we started out in the dark, seven of us: our wounded comrade, one medical sergeant, and five riflemen including myself, carrying the injured man and all of our gear. We were to be met by litter bearers; we meant to follow “ the wire” (com munications lines) but were advised by our captain to take a short cut. The going was rough, over fallen trees. We made our way for three hundred yards, put down cur comrade in order to change hands; repeated the proce dure. Qur medical sergeant, who was in command, went ahe^d, trying to pick out a path for us. All at, once we froze in our tracks at his words: “Don’t look now but I think I see something!” It was merely a semicircle of more than a dozen German Arm* officers! We were .looking directly into the barrels of their submachine guns!
for my height of six feet two. Although not rich, I was in a prosperous orange-growing business with my father.
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