Category: Third Infantry Division

The Clubmobile Crew Goes to Paris

We ponder the purpose of the trip

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 41

Paris—cultural capital of the world—was a dream destination, even in wartime. Everyone in Flo’s Red Cross crew wanted to see it. They’d heard about the food, the fashion, the grandeur. Who wouldn’t want a taste of it, especially after months of mud, cold, and war?

Liz Elliott’s drawing

In October 1944, Flo and her crew made the trip. It’s unclear why they chose to go just then—or why they stayed only two days—but they made the harrowing drive from the Vosges. Though the route avoided the front lines, it was still far from safe.

According to Flo’s diary, they left at 6 a.m. and got a flat tire in Épinal. Luckily, the 77th Ordnance gave them a new tire—and breakfast. “Trip long, but successful,” she wrote. Successful how? I can’t help but wonder if this was the trip my cousin later referred to—when Flo supposedly went to Paris for an abortion.

The group’s main stop was the 203rd Army Hospital, about 15 miles outside the city, where Flo’s sister Eve was working as a nurse. Flo noted that they found the hospital easily and spent the night there. Eve, on night duty, didn’t appear until around 7 p.m.

Flo’s diary

The next day, they went into Paris. “Simply wonderful,” Flo wrote. “Shopped for 2 hours. Things nice but expensive.” She also had a perm done “on post—very good.” But I wonder—was that all she had done that day?

After my mother died, I asked her sister Eve about the abortion story. Eve said she didn’t know anything about it. But she recalled that Flo once told her she’d miscarried while lifting heavy equipment. The original story came from their other sister, Ruth—who, according to her daughter, had been sworn to secrecy. It’s possible Flo never told Eve, perhaps fearing she couldn’t keep the secret.

Still, from the diary it seems Flo and Eve spent most of that day together, which makes it hard to imagine that Flo had a medical procedure without Eve noticing. That night, she wrote, “Eve and I very sleepy. To bed at 1 a.m.”

The following afternoon, Flo returned to the city with “gals and nurses.” They shopped again, bought gifts, and enjoyed themselves. “Leaving in am. Hate to,” she wrote.

She also noted, “Bob not back from England.” That was Eve’s husband, also in the military.

Flo did return to Paris later, so perhaps the abortion took place on a different trip. Maybe this one really was just for sightseeing, shopping, and a little time with her sister. Or maybe it was something more—something she chose never to write down.

Ch. 42: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/07/24/he-was-so-fine/

To go back to Ch. 1: https://mollymartin.blog/2024/11/04/my-mother-and-audie-murphy/

Two New Women Join the Clubmobile Crew: Janet Potts and Fritzie Hoglund

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 40

October, 1944. The four-woman crew gets to work, Flo sees Gene before his company goes in the lines, clubmobilers get up near the front lines and they move to a new camp.

Flo’s diary (pinch out to read)

A note here about the challenge of research: In 1973, a fire at the National Personnel Records Center (NPRC) destroyed 16-18 million official military personnel files. Among them were the archived records of the Clubmobile program, making modern-day research into these women’s service difficult.

From Flo’s album

One helpful resource is The Clubmobile—The ARC in the Storm: A Personal History of and by the Clubmobilers in the European Theater of War During WWII, compiled by Marjorie Lee Morgan. The book includes interviews, diary entries, and photographs. But it focuses solely on the European Theater and omits those who served in the North African and Italian Theaters—even though many of those women, like my mother, also served in France, Germany, and Austria. And these women were the first to enter France and Europe. The book even includes a list of clubmobilers, but no names from the North African/Italian Theater appear, except Forence Wick on the inactive list.

With help from my brother Don, I was able to find some information on Janet Potts and even contacted her daughter. But so far, we’ve found nothing definitive about Fritzie Hoglund (or possibly Hoagland). A newspaper clipping pasted into Flo’s album says Fritzie was from Berkeley, California.

Janet Jenson (née Potts)


Born in New Rochelle, New York, Janet graduated from the Brearley School, attended Barnard and Columbia, and joined the Red Cross in 1944. An accomplished equestrian, she rode in a Third Division “rodeo” at the end of the war.

Janet was one of eight sisters—three of whom served in the Red Cross during the war. Janet was the only one who went to Europe, while the two others served in the South Pacific.

She married Lloyd Jenson in 1946 and had two daughters. Her daughter Susan Jenson told me that Janet often spoke of Flo and that her mother also made a wartime album, which she plans to go through. 

Janet’s daughter wrote, “I personally think there’s far too much focus on donuts in the way the clubmobilers’ work is remembered. These women were brave and generous souls who took on a difficult and emotionally demanding role, offering comfort to exhausted and traumatized troops. As my mother often said, the French sometimes mistook them for camp followers—a euphemism for prostitutes. They had no idea what these women were really doing. But for many soldiers, these were the last warm smiles they ever saw.

“Janet always had kind things to say about Flo. I can imagine the two of them together in a jeep, laughing. It was an adventure—but also full of heartbreak.”

Janet died in 2011, in Denver at age 96.

Liz, Flo, Fritzie and Janet (in clubmobile)

The new four-woman crew slept in the clubmobile. Flo wrote in her diary, “It was fun, but very crowded.” Later, they were issued a tent and new cots.

At one point, Flo’s fiance Gene came down from Docelles and surprised her. “Went out to a movie with him,” she wrote. She saw him again on October 19. Then on October 20: “Last night with Gene—co. going in lines. Sat in front of fireplace at Docelles.” The next day in a free afternoon, she drove back to Docelles maybe with the hope of seeing him one last time. She wrote: “Gene gone. Spent night at ‘home.’”

The following morning, Flo and the crew spent hours loading and moving supplies—the clubmobile was relocating to an area near Épinal.

Ch. 41: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/07/20/the-clubmobile-crew-goes-to-paris/

Flo and Gene Permitted to Marry

Murphy gets hit, Flo takes a break

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 39

October 1944. Flo’s diary is blank from October 2 to October 7, 1944. There’s no way to know what happened during that time, but there are clues. My cousin told me that at some point during the war Flo went to Paris for an abortion. I wrote about it here:  https://mollymartin.blog/2022/04/16/solving-a-wwii-era-mystery/. The city had been liberated in late August and it would have been possible for Flo to travel there and back in five days. Flo stayed in touch with her sister, Eve, who was serving as an Army nurse in a Paris hospital. Eve told me that Flo had also suffered a miscarriage while hauling heavy equipment. Flo never wrote about any of it in her diary, and she never spoke of it later. But whatever happened during that week, it was serious enough to stop her from writing altogether.

Flo’s diary (pinch out to read)

By October 8, Flo and Liz were back in action, serving hundreds of donuts to American troops every day. They had moved from Remiremont to nearby Saint-Nabord, a grim, war-torn area where they now lived in their clubmobile. One day they drove to Luxeuil for photos. Another day they served the replacement depot while a military band played. And then they bounced across a pontoon bridge into Saint-Amé, until their battered old sedan gave out. The clutch snapped halfway over the bridge and couldn’t be repaired. 

During this time, they served the 15th Infantry—Audie Murphy’s unit—a couple of times. The men were quiet, polite, exhausted. After some hard battles, the 15th was finally getting a little rest. But Murphy was not among them. He had been wounded in the fight for Cleurie Quarry. At the aid station, he learned that nearly his whole platoon had been wiped out the night before. Because of the rain and mud, the wounded men could not be evacuated for three days. At the hospital Murphy learned gangrene had resulted. He would be out of commission until January.

In breaks from battle, the army handed out medals. The Third Division took home more than any other. This would be Murphy’s third purple heart.

Flo was able to see her fiancé Gene occasionally, as his unit, the 36th combat engineers, was stationed nearby. They met for church, a dance and meals at his camp. They planned to marry by Christmas and he had ordered rings for them.

Form letter asking for permission to marry

On October 1, Flo sent a formal request to William Stevenson at Red Cross headquarters for permission to marry Gene. The form letter says,

“If permission is granted, it will be predicated on the sole understanding that it will in no way interfere with my responsibilities to Red Cross and that I will carry on my obligation to the organization. I shall gladly carry out my duties wherever the organization may ask me to serve and I will not request transfers within the theater or elsewhere because of my desire to be with or near Capt. Gustafson.” 

In her accompanying letter, Flo had again managed to put her writing skill into practice. Whatever she wrote convinced the ARC. She received permission to marry in a warm letter from Eleanor “Elly” Parker, Director of Staff Welfare, dated October 23.

She wrote, “Thanks very much for your nice letter and I feel much more comfy issuing your marriage approval after having your explanation of exactly what is happening….You sound well surrounded by friends and family in France and I am glad you enjoy being there….I imagine that you are terribly busy and very hard at work under pretty trying cricumstances….

Permission granted and our shoes are boring (sorry)

Apparently Flo also had asked about getting some shoes after her nice shoes were stolen in Italy. But Elly Parker wrote that all they have at the PX are “regular black Red Cross shoes.” Not exactly what Flo, a lifelong shoe queen, had in mind.

On October 12, German planes flew overhead. Everyone looked up at the roar, held their breath as the anti-aircraft fire opened up—and missed. 

Ch. 40: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/07/17/two-new-women-join-the-clubmobile-crew-janet-potts-and-fritzie-hoglund/

What Do Combat Engineers Do?

Gene Built Bridges

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 38

One page in Flo’s album is devoted to the combat engineers—soldiers whose construction work enabled the army to move men, machines, and supplies into active war zones.

Bailey Bridge at Monto Alto above Rome, Topping out

Combat engineers were tasked with everything from building roads and bridges to clearing mines, digging tunnels, demolishing obstacles, and performing emergency construction under fire. Their work was both strategic and dangerous, often done at the front lines or just behind them.

Constructing a bridge across Mussolini canal, Pontoon bridges across the Tiber River in Rome

Flo’s fiancé, Gene, served with the 36th Engineer Combat Group. The engineers were proud of their mission, and Gene gave Flo photos of some of the bridges his unit built. She carefully arranged them in her album, alongside a special edition of Beachhead News from April 15, 1945, dedicated to the 36th.

From Beachhead News

The Men of 100 and 1 Jobs—And the 36th Engineers Have Done Most of ’Em

“One of the most reliable indexes of the efficiency of an outfit is the manner in which it moves. When the 36th Engineer Combat Group pushes on to a new position, the process is painless, matter-of-fact, and quick. It bespeaks an expertness born of long practice—an easy, unconscious cooperation that is the stamp of a smart outfit.

It takes time and constant repetition to produce this kind of ease—not only in moving—but also in the hundred and one other highly specialized types of work that combat engineers are required to perform. Having landed at Fedala, North Africa, on D-Day in 1942, and fought up through Sicily, Salerno, Anzio, France, and Germany, the 36th has learned its know-how the hard way.”

The article goes on to chronicle the unit’s contributions across multiple campaigns—a record of grit and expertise that Flo proudly preserved.

Ch. 39: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/07/13/flo-and-gene-permitted-to-marry-2/

Hand-to-Hand Combat at Cleurie Quarry

“It looms like the King’s Mountain in the Revolutionary War.”

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 37

Early October, 1944. Murphy is now the last one standing of his original unit. The Third Division is driving into the Vosges mountain chain, which is the chief obstacle lying between the Allies and the Rhine. From his autobiography To Hell and Back:

Rain, cold, and the threat of early snow slow the advance. The terrain favors the Germans: dense forests hide snipers and machine guns, and the enemy holds the steep slopes with artillery, mortars, and night patrols that slip into American lines. Murphy keeps his bayonet sharp and close.

Their next objective is a quarry near Cleurie. On the map it is small, but in battle it dominates the road ahead. Set high on a near-vertical slope, protected by tunnels and covered by interlocking machine-gun fire, it is ordered held to the last German. Repeated American assaults fail, and the regiment digs in while command searches for a new plan. At night the lines are so close that Murphy hears enemy voices in the dark. Burned out and emotionally spent, he avoids forming new friendships; he thinks only of keeping his remaining men alive.

The German’s fortified position at the Cleurie quarry controlled the region. Photo: Dogface soldiers

One gray morning the battalion commander and his executive officer visit the front to see what is stopping the advance. They select four men to guide them up the hillside. Restless and unable to sleep, Murphy grabs grenades and a carbine and follows.

As he rounds a boulder, two German grenades explode and a machine gun opens up. The ambush is poorly planned: the Germans strike the enlisted men first, giving the officers time to roll into a shallow depression. Concentrating on killing the officers, the attackers fail to guard their flank.

German prisoners of war file out of the quarry after their defeat. Photo: Dogface soldiers collection

Murphy steps out from behind a rock. The gunner swings his weapon toward him, but the barrel catches on a branch and the burst goes wide. Murphy throws a grenade and fires. Two Germans fall before the grenade even detonates. He tosses two more grenades, killing or disabling most of the ambushers. A squat German tries to flee, waddling downhill. Murphy hesitates—he looks absurd, almost comical—but the man is armed. Murphy fires and drops him.

Murphy safeties his carbine and turns to the battalion commander, who remains cool as the October morning. Brushing dirt from his uniform, the officer says, “Those grenades aren’t a bad idea. Next time I’ll bring my own.”

A howitzer crew in action. Photo: Dogface soldiers collection

“We pick up our wounded and start down the hill. A single feeling possesses me. It is one of complete and utter weariness.” 

Ch. 38: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/07/09/what-do-combat-engineers-do/

Slinging Donuts in French Towns

Serving soldiers coming off the front lines

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 36

Late September, 1944. Flo and Liz were back on duty, serving donuts to soldiers rotating off the front lines and into rest camps. They were supported by a crew of “donut boys,” who pitched a tent that housed the donut making machines. The men were regular soldiers assigned to special service units. They tended the equipment and made donuts. Some of the temporary attachments to the donut detail were soldiers in need of limited duty and sometimes Medal of Honor recipients waiting for reassignment.

Flo and Liz with the donut making crew
Joe Fronek, head donut boy with dog TC

Once the fresh donuts were ready, they were packed into the clubmobile—or whatever vehicle was available—and the women drove them out to towns and camps where they set up a serving line. They made stops in Faucogney, Luxeuil-les-Bains, Remiremont, St. Nabord, and rest camps across the region.

Joe Fronek painting the ARC logo
Do ut boys making donuts

Flo noted in her diary that she and Liz had taken a rare break: “Went into Luxeuil for bath in Thermis house. Wonderful.” In the 1940s, many European towns still operated communal bathhouses, a tradition that faded with the rise of private bathrooms but has seen a modern revival—especially in Germany.

Coffee in bed?
Feeding the unit’s pet monkey

One day brought a welcome surprise: a letter from Flo’s fiancé, Gene. Grateful to the APO for delivering it, she made them a batch of fudge. That evening, she wrote, “Gene came out to area tonite and surprised me. He’s up about 20 min.” The next day, she simply noted: “(date with Gene).”

QM at the railroad station
One of the many rest camps

News arrived that the rest of their original crew, Jingles and Dottie, wouldn’t be returning. For now, it was just Flo and Liz. They were mostly sleeping in the clubmobile, though occasionally they stayed with French families. Flo continued to meticulously record the military units they served.

Flo’s diary September 25-October 2, 1944 (pinch out to read)

Flo and Liz with Gen. O’Daniel

At one event, Flo wrote, “Gen. O’Daniel spoke, also greeted us.” General John “Iron Mike” O’Daniel, commander of the Third Infantry Division, led his troops from the beaches of Anzio through France and Germany, and into Austria. Admired by his men, he was rarely far from the front and was known for his hands-on leadership in battle. Unlike some other army commanders, he appreciated the Red Cross clubmobilers.

Ch. 37: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/07/04/hand-to-hand-combat-at-cleurie-quarry/

Prelude to Another Grim Winter

Which of us will be alive when the new leaves return

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 35

Late September, 1944. Murphy has been wounded in a mortar attack. From his autobiography To Hell and Back:

After a few days in the hospital, Murphy gets a new pair of shoes and returns to the lines. It is late September, and drizzly rains sweep over the hilly, wooded country they are moving through. Keeping warm at night has already become a problem.

Foot soldiers marching through a French town. Photo: Dogface soldiers collection

The leaves have begun to turn. Gold and red flare sharply against the dark evergreens, and the camouflage crews start mixing new paint to match the changing colors of the forest. It is the prelude to another long, grim winter.

The men plod up the wet roads doggedly, each one wondering, however vaguely, who among them will still be alive when new leaves return to the trees. The Germans fall back stubbornly but steadily. Yet each day their resistance stiffens, their retreats shorten. As the enemy forces withdraw toward the fortified positions of the Vosges Mountains, they lash back with fierce counterattacks. Murphy’s regiment is on the threshold of some of its hardest fighting of the war.

One morning, as a chilled, misty dawn spreads across the landscape, the men wait for the signal to assault a hill known only by a number. Artillery pounds the ridge in a steady barrage. They lie on their backs, shivering in the growing gray light.

Tank destroyers of the 601st TD Battalion move through Lons-le-Saunier in pursuit of the retreating enemy. Photo: Dogface soldiers collection.

Near Murphy, a sergeant checks a .50-caliber machine gun set in a deep, round emplacement ringed with sandbags. The weapon, stationary for now, will cover the advance, and if needed, the retreat. Satisfied with the gun’s readiness, the sergeant leans back on his elbows. Drops of water cling to his mop of wavy black hair. He is an extraordinarily handsome man, with fine features and broad shoulders—exactly the sort a Hollywood producer might cast as a soldier. Among the troops, a man like that is instantly labeled a lady-killer.

A cannon booms from the rear. The men hear its projectile flutter through the air with an odd, hesitant wobble, as if reluctant to plow into the cold earth. To experienced ears, that sound signals a defective shell—one that might explode anywhere. Murphy shouts for his men to get down and hits the dirt just before the crash comes.

The blast feels as though it lands directly on top of them. When silence follows, he mentally checks each part of his body for the burning sting of a wound. Finding none, he rises to his feet. The new men shakily pat their clothing, searching for blood. He knows the feeling well—only the uninitiated are shocked that a shell could land so close without killing everyone in its path.

Photo: Dogface Soldiers collection

Murphy glances toward the machine-gun pit. The sergeant still reclines where he was, but another soldier is twisting a tourniquet around his leg. The sergeant’s left foot has been sheared off neatly above the shoe top. His face shows no panic, no pain. He lights a cigarette with steady hands and draws calmly on it.

Then his eyes close, his face tightens, and the pain finally hits.

Ch.36: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/06/29/slinging-donuts-in-french-towns/

Flo and Liz a Crew of Two

Where are they now? A recap

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 34

After living in tents for the summer of 1944 at a training camp for the Third Infantry Division in Italy, the American Red Cross clubmobile workers made it to France. They scrambled to catch up with the fast moving war and their boys in the front lines. 

Flo (my mother, Florence Wick) and her coworker Liz Elliott traveled north from southern France trying to get to a place where they could go back to work serving donuts and coffee to the troops.

Flo captioned this “Lizzie’s sketches of ‘Life of a Donut Gal in France’“

They had been a crew of four, but Isabella Hughes and Dottie Shands stayed in Marseille. They expect to join Flo and Liz, but for the time being Flo and Liz are a crew of two living mostly in the clubmobile. Frequent rain has turned roads and fields to muddy sludge.

Liz and Flo and the clubmobile they lived in

They were originally assigned to the Third Division, but after a major evicted them, they moved in with the 6th Corps artillery unit near Vesoul for a time. Then they were allowed back in to the division as three regimental rest camps were opened. 

Flo has met up with her fiancé Gene several times and she corresponds with him through the APO mail, although she complains often in her diary of “no mail.” He is with the 36th Engineers, the crew that rebuilds bombed out bridges and roads. But they are also forced into combat when foot soldiers are needed.

September 19-24 Flo’s diary (pinch out to read)

“Good to be back at work,” wrote Flo in her diary, after the Red Cross women had been allowed back into the Third Division.

“Gene way up on lines. No mail.”

“Served 30th Inf. Rest camp & 3rd Div band. Boys tired. Fun with band.”

Flo working in the field

On Sept. 21 she wrote, “ Served co. of 756 tank Bn. They had hard luck—several lost in Bn.”

Sept. 22: “Served in same area with many other div. Still no word from Gene. Jerry planes over town. Quite exciting.”

Sept. 24: “Served 1st Bn of 15th up in next town. Raining hard…dinner at 15th C.P.”

This is Audie Murphy’s unit and must be where they met. He remembered Flo served him donuts somewhere in France.

Ch. 35: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/06/24/prelude-to-another-grim-winter/

Return to Ch. 1: https://mollymartin.blog/2024/11/04/my-mother-and-audie-murphy/

Catching Up to the 3rd Division

Flo and Liz Get Too Close to the Front Lines

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 32

The war was moving north fast, and the Red Cross personnel had to move fast to catch up. Isabella and Dottie had stayed in Marseilles, so Flo and Liz were on their own. They snagged a car, driving from Aix-en-Provence to Grenoble, and on to the QM area near Quingey, just south of the town of Besançon. Flo wrote, “Should not have come up, but Bill let us stay.” 

I think she is saying they are too close to the front lines. Bill is probably Bill Shay, whose photo is pasted in the album titled Bill Shay ARC, maybe their boss. In letters and interviews, the clubmobilers complained that their ARC bosses were of little help. The women were generally tasked with figuring things out on their own.

Bill Shay ARC

Flo also noted, “Moved same evening to area beyond town. Liz and Bill came late, so slept in Major Goodwin’s bedroll.”

That might be the theme of Liz’s drawing.

Liz’s drawings of clubmobile life are pasted throughout Flo’s album

The next day, Sept. 10, Flo wrote, “Shopped in Quingey for pans to cook for boys. Saw 36th Div. gals. Slept under trailer tarp. Very comfortable. Cooked for donut crew.”

On Monday, Sept. 11 she wrote: “Moved near Besancon. Put up pyramidal tent (full of holes). Saw Frank Gates.”

(Gates is the ARC man who took them to Rome on the amphib jeep June 5. That seems to long ago!)

“(Gates) didn’t like our being around. Liz and I spent night under tarp with (donut making) machines. Made hot choc. For us all.

Flo’s diary

Sept. 12, Flo wrote, “Slept in tent on our German stretchers. Ord. gave us two cars—sedan & Ger. Jeep. Saw 36th E in town…” She doesn’t mention that she saw her fiance, Gene, who was with the 36th Engineers.

Sept. 13. Raining. “Spent wet night. Had fried chicken. Very good. Liz is KP & Flo is mess sgt.”

Sept. 14. “Frank Gates says Maj. Basilla wants us to get out, so we moved up to 6th Corps artillery unit.”

It seems like this means that Major Basilla was kicking them out of the Third Division. Some of the commanding officers were opposed to having the clubmobilers near the army. Gen. Mark Clark had been their advocate and protector in the beginning, but he was no longer there.

She wrote: “Spent night in French summer home. Wonderful beds. Both of us blue & orphans.”

Friday, Sept. 15 Flo wrote, “Left for Vesoul w/6th Corps artillery. Moved into small inn in Villers de Sac with Liz. Wonderful beds & kitchen to cook meals in. Fun. Drove down to QM in Ger. Jeep.

Sept. 16. “Cooking for 6th Corps donut gang. Madame Susan good to us. Fried 3 chickens & cut ‘em up myself. 11 for dinner. Danced in inn to phono. Raining hard.”

Liz and Flo plucking French chickens

Flo was very proud of herself for cutting up chicken and cooking meals. She had never been a cook. At home, she had worked at a job and her mother had done all the cooking. From the notes in her diary, it seems like she was getting in to her domestic side.

Ch. 33: https://mollymartin.blog/?p=4213

Evidence of Nazi War Crimes Mounts

Catching up with the Third Division

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 31

September 8, 1944. After several days in the small town of Aix-en-Provence, the Red Cross crew drove north in an effort to catch up to the Third Division. They stopped in Grenoble where they stayed for a night in what Flo called, “a lovely hotel, taken by 7th Army.” She noted: “Boy from Ballard (A Seattle neighborhood) gave me cinnamon rolls.” She described Grenoble as “lovely and modern—very mountainous.”

From Flo’s album
From Flo’s diary

Flo also pasted on this page of her album a newspaper story quoting Sgt. Louis Roberts about Nazi brutality endured by the French. Sgt. Roberts must be a Yakima native. From the Yakima Herald:

Atrocities Are Reported

Sgt. Roberts Avers France Bled White

Sgt. Louis Roberts who has been staying recently with a French family, has thus been able to get a better understanding of condition in France than most of the Americans and has the added advantage of speaking the language.

“It is hard to fathom how Germany bled France of resources,” he says. “From one little sector each month the people had to send 13 ½ tons of shoes, 10,000 head of cattle, tons of butter, milk, wood and other things plus a monthly payment of five million francs. It is incredible how much a small region could ever supply so much. These people have been thrifty and economical enough to endure this war.

“Being deprived of food and clothing did not bother the French so much as the brutal measures the Germans took. Often children had to suffer the loss of limbs so parents would take pity on them and disclose vital information about the F.F.I. (French Forces of the Interior. The French resistance) One town north of here was taken by the F.F.I. The Germans warned the patriots that if one shot were fired after 11 o’clock they would retaliate. The warning was not heeded and the Germans retook the town and set all the houses afire along the main street.

“Numerous incidents are constantly told about how the Germans would shoot our wounded prisoners. Women would cover the bodies of dead aviators or allied soldiers with flowers which would be scattered by the Germans who were on guard. If some persons would linger over the body of one of our soldiers to pray they would be driven away at the point of bayonets.

“These French are very sorry, indeed, that all of us cannot understand the language. Each of them has some grewsome story to tell, not necessarily how they suffered but how the rest, or all of France, has to suffer. I have seen results of such brutality and I feel even more sorry for the French still in German territory. I could write a book on what I have heard and seen.

Yesterday I went to mass—a special mass for the liberation of the town. The church was beautifully decorated with numerous flags and stretched out up over the altar was a huge banner ‘Honor and Glory to the Americans.’ The choir and music were also beautiful. It was like Easter at home.”

Sgt. Roberts and Miss Florence Wick, Yakima Red Cross worker, are in the same town and see each other at times. He adds that “even though people are bombed out of their homes they are most happy to be liberated.”

Ch.32: https://mollymartin.blog/2025/06/09/catching-up-to-the-3rd-division/