Another story took place in Saint Quentin on the Somme River in northeastern France. Our outfit was quartered in what had been a school building consisting of two floors of room of different sizes.
The year was 1944 and all was quiet on the Western Front, some months prior to the German breakthrough in Belgium in December of that year. A company bulletin board featured a bold-faced directive from the C.O. which read: BLACK OUT REGULATIONS WILL BE STRICTLY ENFORCED! (Exceptions: Rooms Occupied by First Three Graders.) At that time, the highest ranking enlisted personnel were first sergeants, master sergeants and technical sergeants. Someone of lower rank had added a typewritten post script which read : “AND GOD SAID, LET THERE BE LIGHT IN THE FIRST THREE GRADER’S ROOMS.” My response at the time: Why didn’t I think of that?
D.R. Vosbergh, 91,
@Body Copy Ragged:As a member of the 101st Airborne Division Band in the late 1950s we played many parades both on and off base at Fort Campbell, Ky. Gen. Maxwell Taylor, the chief of staff of the military, along with Division Commander William Westmoreland were serving as the reviewing officers of a full division review. At this type ceremony, the band stood in front of the reviewing stand and played marches continuously as the troops paraded by the reviewing stand and would last about 45 minutes to an hour.
After about 30 minutes, the cymbal player, who in marches only had to “clang” the cymbals in the beat of the march, fell to the ground. I was directly behind him so broke ranks to help him. Thinking he had fainted, I asked him if he was OK. His comment: “I’m fine, Sergeant, I just fell asleep!” The C.O. came back and asked what happened. I told the C.O. he was just overheated and would be fine, and the band played on.