Yank : the memoir of a World War II soldier (1941-1945) from the desert war of Africa to the allied invasion of Europe, from German POW camp to home again

283 Pages·2006·3.83 MB·English

by  Ellsworth

Yank
Yank
THE MEMOIR OF A WORLD WAR II SOLDIER (1941–
1945)
FROM THE DESERT WAR OF AFRICA
TO THE ALLIED INVASION OF EUROPE,
FROM GERMAN POW CAMP TO HOME AGAIN
Ted Ellsworth
Thunder’s Mouth Press
New York
YANK: THE MEMOIR OF A WORLD WAR II SOLDIER (1941–1945)
FROM THE DESERT WAR OF AFRICA TO THE ALLIED INVASION OF
EUROPE,
FROM GERMAN POW CAMP TO HOME AGAIN
Published by
Thunder’s Mouth Press
An Imprint of Avalon Publishing Group, Inc.
245 West 17th St., 11th Floor
New York, NY 10011
Copyright © 2006 by Barbara Lange Ellsworth
All images are courtesy of the author unless otherwise specified.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted
in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy,
recording, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be
invented, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer
who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for
inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, or broadcast.
This memoir is a product of the author’s recollections and is thus rendered as a
subjective accounting of events that occured in his/her life.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
ISBN-10: 1-56025-834-9
ISBN-13: 978-1-56025-834-6
eBook ISBN: 9780786736409
9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Book design by Susan Canavan
Printed in the United States of America
Distributed by Publishers Group West
To Barbara
Publisher’s Note
This book was written in 1945. Every effort has been made to retain its historical
flavor and to remain as faithful as possible to the author’s original prose. Certain
phrases that may be unfamiliar to contemporary readers have not expanded upon
within the text itself; however, the publisher has added an endnotes section to
explain and expand upon any possibly unfamiliar references.
Foreword
It was sunny and warm on the Dartmouth College Campus in June 1940, and we
seniors waiting for the graduation exercise known as Commencement had
nothing to do but sit in the sun and talk. Ted Ellsworth was next to me. We
discussed potential jobs and wondered what we would do next. We read the
newspaper. Two stories in the New York Times that month had been galvanizing.
The first was a wake-up call. It began, “Since dawn, the fate of France and
perhaps of the Western world has been in the hands of God—and the French
army. The sun rose at 5:02.” The second came two weeks later: “Adolph Hitler’s
mighty men in armor—100,000 strong in the advance guard—turned westward
last night on a new tangent: the English channel as their goal.”
Quite suddenly talk about post-graduation jobs ceased. What was ahead?
What should we do? We turned from the newspapers to the radios in our dorm
rooms and there we listened to the voice of Winston Churchill:
. . . even if, which I do not for a moment believe, this island or any
large part there of should become subjected and starving under the
heel of the conqueror, then with the aid of the British fleet and from
our empire beyond the seas, we shall carry on the struggle until in
God’s good time, the new world with all its power and might shall
come forth to the aid and rescue of the old.
Both of us decided to join the British Army. Ted Ellsworth and I had been
close friends and companions since the seventh grade in Dubuque, Iowa. He was
and had always been a fascinating and charismatic figure, always at the center of
things, from football games to escapades, always laughing, always the life of the
party, always ready for new adventures. Together we climbed the bluffs along
the Mississippi River, boasted about good-looking girls, rode our bikes through
cornfields and together we decided to join the British Army.
After the war, we kept up with each other. Ted returned to the bluffs of
Dubuque, Iowa, to raise his family and start a business. I went on to publish a
newspaper in Oceanside, California, and begin a career as a syndicated
columnist, author, and television news commentator. That was some time ago. I
am eighty-eight now and my good friend Ted has been gone for twenty years.
I’d like to tell him, “Ted, you captured it, thank you!” In all the years of our
friendship there was one thing I never knew about him: I never knew he could
write. However, Ted Ellsworth, a hero in battle, writes about battle brilliantly,
amusingly, and factually. You will find this out in the pages that follow.
Tom Braden, 2005
Prologue
Nov. 15, 1944
2712 Reynier Ave.
Los Angeles, Calif.
My darling Teddy,
This is the first opportunity I have had to write since that day—
at least to write alone. And now I have the courage to do it. I feel
sure that some day you will read this letter, and that is why I am
writing it. Not just because I want to get something out of my system.
It was while I was talking on the phone to Aunt Alice about 8:30
that Tuesday morning that Watt started to bark. He was up in my
bedroom. That is the day the laundry man comes, so I excused
myself for a moment, thinking that it was he coming up the drive.
But, instead I saw Daddy and Uncle Clifford, and I started to shake.
It could only mean bad news. But I went back to the phone and
listened to Aunt Alice though I couldn’t tell you to this day what she
was talking about.
I was still shaking but I mustered enough strength to gaily say,
“Well, what brings you two up here at this hour of the morning?”,
hoping against hope that my intuitions were wrong. “Missing-in-
action”—they are agonizing words but at least there is hope in
them. And that is what I am doing—hoping and counting and
praying for your return from this mess some day. I know you will
come back to me, darling. You must come back to me.
And so I cried on Daddy’s shoulder, and your dear little Watt
knew something was wrong, because I suddenly felt his paws on my