"Remembering names, dates, times and places is not my forte. Neither is writing but you - Art and Rose, have inspired me. Serious and scary events of that time always bring a chuckle nowadays, sometimes a tear or two. No offense intended if I get carried away. Feel free to use or delete any part - or all - if you feel it is not appropriate. Some of my recollections may not be as accurate as others may recall them.

In the mess hall at Camp Swift they put a gallon of peaches on each table - I must have eaten my share and more - thanks to Lahey - I was known as "Peaches" for the remainder of my career - I did not know everyone was watching - I still like peaches.

Being in Communications, Lahey and I decided to practice climbing telephone poles with those spiked climbers. When we returned to camp we were scratched up pretty good - our clothes torn, etc. Everyone was asking questions. Lahey gave a story about us having a fight with some guys from another outfit. He even made a hero out of me. It sounded so good, I didn't deny it. I still miss that guy - at night - when it's quiet - Somewhere in France - it was muddy and dark and we were lost. We found a lone foxhole. Can you imagine two guys in one small hole? It happened but I never told anyone. That was a long miserable night, learning to survive.

We were up front - lots of mortar and machine gun fire. At the bottom of a sloping hill you could see dirt jumping up from enemy fire. Suddenly we lost telephone communication. Someone had to trace the wire up that hill to find the break. There were three of us - me, Lahey, maybe Jenkel. We broke three blades of grass. The short man had to go. Lahey lost. He did not hesitate. That was an emotional moment. In my mind there was no way to make it but he did. With nothing but his buttocks showing and his head close to the ground. I think he did get a Purple Heart later though. The story was he stuck a nail in his hand opening a ration box."

In Combat: The Captain called on me often like he did with everyone. We moved into a new position. He told me to "dig a hole right here for a C.P. (Command Post)". I moved farther and farther away and started digging. He said "No, right here - NOW" and I did - so much for impressions.

The mortar crews were professionals. We at the observation post have directed fire to within 50 yards of our position. But we always asked for a re-check before firing. Would I be doing this, had they (the crews) not been good. I hope to pat you on the back at the reunion.

More: Sometimes all of us step across the line we have drawn for ourselves. As I was reeling out wire for telephones down a railroad track between hedge rows. With my head down and scared, I walked to within a few steps of a German lying near the track. When I finally got some air in my lungs, I could see he had been wounded. His foot had been bandaged and he was left there.

I continued on to a crossroad. I had to go fast across a road - up a bank to get behind a hedge row. I had to almost step over a dead German lying in a ditch. I noticed a beautiful pistol sticking out of his pack. I could not resist trying to get that pistol. I made a loop in some wire and got up enough nerve to jump down and put it over the gun butt. Back up over the hedge row, I pulled hard enough to move him making sure he was not booby trapped. I waited and jumped down and freed the pistol which turned out to be only a flare pistol. Disappointed, I moved a short distance and sat leaning against an apple tree. Suddenly - a loud explosion. When I regained my senses I realized that an 88mm shell had hit the upper branches of the apple tree. I concluded I was being watched and that I had done something not entirely ethical. Thanks for another chance!"

Private Art: Among the names in the Killed in Action section in the 86th Chemical Mortar Battalion History under Company A, is the following notice: 1ST LT. WAYNE M. MATCHETT - end of November, 1944, in the Hurtgen Forest, Germany, Interred in Henri Chapelle Cemetery No. 1, Belgium. Berne, Indiana.

"Shortly after, we heard the rumor that they were giving points for the number of battles we participated in. The length of time and the number of purple hearts you had determined who would be sent home the earliest. I think this comrade's name was Hastings as he was being carried away after being wounded. He waved and said, "Five more points, boys". That statement I always remember - leaving - not knowing if we would ever cross paths again - Brothers in Arms. questions."