• Total US Veteran Population 23,443,000 (Per US Dept. of Veterans Affairs 9/08)
• Army – 44.4%, Navy- 22.7%, Air Force- 18.2%, Marines- 10.3%, Non-Defense- 1%, Reserve Forces- 3% (Approx. Figures Per US Dept. of Veterans Affairs 9/08)
• Total US Female Veteran Population 1,802,000 (Per US Dept. of Veterans Affairs 9/08)
• Veterans in California account for 9% of all US Veterans (Per US Dept. of Veterans Affairs 9/08)
• Veterans make up roughly 8.6% of the civilian population 18 years and older in Fresno County (census.gov 2005) Roughly 80,075 of 931,098 in 2007
• Regardless of the day of the week, Veterans Day is observed on November 11. This day was chosen to commemorate World War I, which ended on November 11, 1918.

World War II As I Saw It

By Vernon Schmidt

One month from the day I said good-bye to my parents, sister, and girlfriend Dona, I was on the front line in the infamous Siegfried Line in Germany. It was nighttime as we ferried across the New York harbor to board this huge troop ship. Due to wartime secrecy, we were not told where we were going or on what ship, but as we neared this huge ship, I could make out the large letters, “Queen Mary” painted on the bow of the ship. Rumors were flying as to where we were going and because we were in our winter O.D’s we felt we were headed for Europe. We were 15,000 troops aboard this ship, over five times as many people as lived in my hometown of Reedley, California.

The Atlantic crossing in January was very rough, and this huge ship tossed like a bottle cork, hence many were seasick all six days. Landing in Glasgow, Scotland was a relieving sight as land always looked good to me. We boarded a train and headed to Southampton, England where we boarded another ship, this one being an American troop carrier and sailed across the English Channel to the city of Le Havre, France. Due to the destruction of the harbor we anchored off shore and repelled on ropes over the side to waiting landing craft each holding about fifty men. As we approached the beach, the huge bow door opened forward, and we headed out into the water and walked ashore to a huge railroad center where we were fed. After dark, we were marched to waiting boxcars, “40 × 8” they were called from WWI as those cars carried forty men or eight horses. We had straw on the floor to help insulate against the cold winter nights, but we soon learned that the snow could sift through the cracks in the walls, so all huddled pretty close to each other.

The train ride to Metz, France was not very eventful due to the extreme cold weather, and it seemed like we traveled so slow for three days. By the time we reached the replacement depot in Metz many of us were sick with colds and the “shakes.” At Metz they began to separate us into smaller groups, but we knew nothing and were told nothing. They issued us our weapons and ammunition. At dusk we mounted up on trucks and headed toward Luxembourg and then through Belgium where we crossed the border into Germany at the town of Habcheid. Several of us were lead into a bombed out church where we waited until dark. We could hear our artillery firing volleys overhead into enemy territory. The reality of being up on the front lines hadn’t dawned on me yet. I had just had my 19th birthday.

Suddenly some unshaved guy came up and said, “You three guys follow me.” By then it was pitch black outside as we walked up the street and out to the edge of town. The guy behind me said, “Hey, I don’t see you, where are you?” I told him to grab my belt and follow me as best he could. Our leader told us to be quiet and just follow him. It seemed like we were walking though a pasture as the ground was somewhat rough. Our leader suddenly stopped, and we heard him exchange passwords with a guard. A huge iron door slowly opened and he ushered us inside this German bunker commonly called a “pillbox.” We were introduced in this dimly lit room to Sgt. Mueller. He said, “Welcome, you are part of E Company, 358th regiment of the 90th infantry division serving under General Patton.”

The next morning at 0600, I learned we were not coming back to this pillbox unless the Germans drove us back. We had tank support our first day, and our objective was to advance through these series of bunkers making certain they were clear of Germans. The cold chilling mornings were fierce, and I recall running up behind one of our tanks to catch the hot exhaust from their big diesel engines. I learned later that tanks are a prime target of the enemy.

Resistance from the Germans was sporadic as we moved slowly eastward through the area of the pillboxes. The Krauts always seemed to know where we stopped for the night and managed to lob mortars into our positions. I recall an incident in early February as our squad was moving up a country road at dusk. Suddenly the clatter of machine guns rattled around us. We hit the dirt on each side of the road. After being pinned down for some time, our squad leader ordered us to move a short distance back into a wooded area and take cover.

We managed to find a number of fox holes, which the Germans had previously used. These usually had covers made from tree logs and covered with dirt, so they kept out the rain and snow but not the cold night air. We took turns being on guard, and no one talked above a whisper. As daylight came our squad formed up. We shook one another in our foxholes to be ready to move out. I don’t recall how many GIs were in my foxhole, but one guy wouldn’t wake up. Upon a closer check, we found this guy to be a dead German. History says the winter of 1944-1945 was one of the most severe ever. The roads were ankle deep in mud during the afternoons and during the night would freeze into ruts so hard and rough that walking on them in the early mornings was almost impossible.

The 19th of February was a tragic day for our squad. We were ordered to take the high ground and then report our finding to the captain of E company. We took cover in some trees on the top of this hill. It was apparent the Germans had been here as they had made one fairly secure foxhole. Unknown to us, the Germans had us in perfect view for in just a few minutes, they zeroed in on us with an “88” artillery gun and placed several tree bursts right on top of us. My buddy, Roper took a direct hit and was almost decapitated. Another buddy, Wigton was hit by flying shrapnel over most of his body. He yelled for a medic but slumped over and never moved at all. Our machine gunner was also killed. Several others were injured quite severely. By this time, the rest of us were somehow in this lone foxhole. I helped the medic as he tried to patch up one of our guys. A piece of shrapnel had taken part of the calf of his leg off and another piece had torn part of his boot and took the heel off his foot. With three out of 12 guys killed and several wounded, we were down to a skeleton group to carry on. The sergeant told me to go back down the hill and get the captain. That really wasn’t something I would volunteer for, but I crawled out of the foxhole and grabbed my M-1 and scurried down the side of this hill.

I hadn’t gone very far when I heard one of those “Screaming Meemies,” coming toward me. These were a series of six rockets that fired one after the other with a few seconds delay. We had learned by trial and error how to respect these. If the first rocket landed beyond you, the following five would keep landing beyond you, also. I heard the buzzing of the first as it passed over my head while I lay prone on the ground. Just to be sure, I heard the second one whiz by over my head, so I got brave in a hurry and ran down the hill as the remaining four kept coming. The siren sound of these are enough to terrorize you. I finally reached the captain who was waiting in a barn. I remember how he bawled me out because my M-1 was covered with mud. I never did like him after that incident and was happy the day we learned he was relieved of E Co. Things got a little better as the month of February moved on.

We continued to move eastward, and by March we had pretty well broken through the Seigfried line. This barrier was built on Hitler’s orders in 1939 and according to him, this would be the western wall to keep the enemy out of his “Fatherland.” He failed to take into account the tenacity of the American G.I.

This biography is from Stories of Service: Valley Veterans Remember WWII compiled by Janice Stevens. The book, published by Craven Street Books, an inprint of Linden Publications, is available through Barnes and Noble, Fig Garden Village Bookstore as well as other valley outlets.