WWII Letter Home from 70th Division

[CrewChief]

This is a fantastic find that I must share with this forum.

 

On Sunday, March 2nd, 2008 I was cruising an antique market in Adamstown, Pa when I spotted, lying on a vendor’s table, 3 letters written by a Chet Althause in March, May and June, 1945 from the War in Europe to his parents in Ephrata, Pa. I’m an amateur historian who is always interested in historical artifacts and letters home from the troops are always a great insight into history. They are eyewitness accounts to an era that will never be again. It always saddens me to see a soldier’s military legacy lying on a table in a flea market, but at the same time it is a treasure trove for historians.

Chester Althause was born 1917 or 1918 according to Ancestry.com. He was approximately 27 years old when he entered the war in Europe. He tells his parents that the letter he is writing is uncensored. That’s not entirely true. It’s not censored by the US Army, but Chet is writing this letter to his parents and he is censoring it himself to make it palatable. We must remember that Chet is embedded into a hardened combat infantry regiment. The great war correspondent Ernie Pyle once stated,” Sailors can cuss, but nobody can cuss like the Infantry”. There is not one “hell” or “damn” in this letter. No mention of the dead, dying or wounded. Chet keeps it fairly clean, but what he does say speaks volumes

He mentions he tries his “Pa. Dutch” in Europe. He describes the people, the conditions, where he is and when. He is presenting an eye witness account of the end of the war in Europe as seen through the eyes of a young man from Lancaster County,Pennsylvania. It is a very telling account.

 

Transcript of Chet’s letter follows with spelling and punctuation uncorrected.

Wednesday May 23, 1945

 

Dear Folks,

 

This letter might be a little different than usual cause I have no censor to check them. I was so glad to get home those few days back on the 13th and 14th of February while at Meade. I made a hurried trip to Camp Kilmer in New York to catch the Queen Mary, one of the fastest, biggest, unescorted ships to carry troops across the Atlantic.

We slipped into the beautiful Atlantic Ocean on February 19. A funny feeling to be going on such a fine large ship. We had all good weather and landed at Glasgow, Scotland, twenty-sixth of February, early in the morning. That night we were on a train for South Hampton, England. Here we stayed for a few days. Got plenty of food and rest. Washing was out of the question. Around the first of the month we crossed the English Channel one beautiful afternoon on a small boat called the Lance Prince. Plenty of protection we had. We landed at La Harve. This is one of the cities we landed on D-Day during the invasion. The buildings were all flat along the sea for quite a few blocks. South Hampton and other English cities were hit too, but most of them had been cleaned up and rebuilding was taking place. Here in La Harve people looked at you as if they were hurt deeper than just a beating. They told you something with those eyes that words will never tell. They lost everything. Really, these people are dead and their hearts keep them going. Haunted souls on a rampage just touring the rubble of this once beautiful city. We only stayed here for a night, thank goodness. We got on a train from here. If you ever talk to veterans of the last war in France, they will remember the forty or eights. Forty men or eight horses. Cold box cars, we had about thirty men in these cold damp cars for three nights. Memorable nights and days they were. Barely enough to eat but plenty to get by on. Go to the toilets while the engine refuels, the snow was still in patches along the track - cold as the mischief. No windows, just holes and boards missing. We got to Epinal on them finally. We stayed here three days. This was the seventh army depot. We got all of the equipment we were short (of), plus one rifle. After a good rest, good food, we went to the Seventy Divisional Depot, where, I don’t know. We were only there a day and a night. I got communion here by Colonel Jenks, Divisional Chaplain. Here we were assigned to our regiment. The division is made up of the 274th 275th and 276th Infantry Regiments. From this point we were sent to the regiments. I was assigned to the Headquarters Company. With this I was well satisfied.

The first position I held was a guard at a prisoner of war collecting point. I was assigned to “B” Company for rations. Here is where I met with action. I slept in one of the famous pill boxes, some shells came over and hit, shaking the box – seven feet thick and about thirty feet long – two sets of three inch thick steel doors – twelve feet wide – all inside dimension. The men of this company were in fox holes along the hill. Here in the bunker (pill box) was the company command post plus a switchboard back to regimental headquarters. My duty was in case a German was caught infiltrating our line and picked up, I was to hold him, call up and a truck came for him. I stood down on the road between our company and the wooded area with this prisoner waiting for transportation back. One night I was saved from death. I had a Sgt. in the German medics and waiting about 5 P.M. when a shell came in. I thought it was going over. He grabbed me and together we hit the ground behind the tree. A tree burst hit and three branches and hot blue hot piece of steel or cast iron all around. I got up, brushed my trousers off, thanked him, and felt a little bit foolish but happy about the whole thing. I was earning my combat infantry badge the hard way these few days. Then one day I got the tommy ache. I went back to the Bousbach France for a rest, warm food, warm house, a good floor to sleep on. This is where I talked my first Dutch to a foreigner. I stayed with a women with six children for just about a week. Our boys cleaned out the pocket and the regimental command post moved forward to Forbach still in France. Here we lost quite a few men with artillery shells. In about a week all of this was cleaned out. General Patton got loose and our boys helped to get Saarsbrucken. Soon after Saarsbrucken fell we crossed the German line to Sulzbach, a spooky town full of dark corners. We stayed in an apartment above the post office. The boys took over the railroad station for mess hall – we stayed about a week then moved to Kaiserlautern, a beautiful and well preserved town. The heart of the town was blown to bits and good for it. We are always glad to see the buildings down. It helps to remind them of the war payments – don’t come out in the blue side of the ledger. We were here just long enough to get tired of the place when orders came through to move on Easter morning. We moved on to Gonsenheim. This is close to Mainz. Here I took the roll of counseling these people and turning their troubles into a bed of roses. Very little guard did I do here. I enjoyed my work a lot – I was sleeping with the corporal of the guard at the Prisoner of war collecting cage – here is where a fellow is brought after killing a woman and a few children. He had taken some dope and died the following morning just before six as I was sitting with the corporal of the guard during his turn of watch. You should have heard some of these snakes moan after confessing killing a few people – rotten I calls ‘em. I collected barber tools here two clippers, scissors, razor , a comb, all for cutting hair. I got some experience too.

After a few weeks here we crossed the Rhine at Mainz and moved to Biebrich close to Wiesbaden. Here I am now. Here is where all of my pictures are taken. Here I got a camera. Shot gun and few other trinkets. We had no action or artillery fire from the enemy since we left Forbach. We kept intact all along since without trouble. Here in Biebrich we are all enjoying a restful health resort kind of life. Plenty to eat and live in swanky homes. I have an inner spring mattress for on the floor. A small room normally used as a closet large enough for my bed. Well the room is about eight by fourteen feet so you see I am not crowded. Bath on all three floors, that is toilet and wash facilties – a tub on three floors too but these rotten people don’t have a means for heating hot water – so you see I live good in a small way. I got the Combat Infantry Badge affective 2 May 1945.

 

 

 

Yours, Chester

[rrobertscv]

What a great find, I have sent you a pm regarding this letter.