Remembrances of My Service in World War II

By Erich Scharf

An autobiographical memoir of Erich Scharf, who lived under Nazi occupation for a year in Austria. He and his family escaped in 1939, when he was 17, and emigrated to the United States. After the US entered the war, he found himself in the US Army and served in Europe first in the Rangers 1st Battalion, then in the First Special Service Force (a/k/a the Devils Brigade). Because of his skill in speaking German, he became an interrogator of German prisoners.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Erich Scharf
• Release date: Mar 25, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476095028

Erich Scharf

Erich Scharf was born in Vienna, Austria in 1922. He and his family lived under Nazi occupation from 1938 until they escaped to the United States in 1939. After the US entered the war, he was drafted into the military and joined the Rangers, and then became a member of the First Special Service Force as an interpreter and interrogator of German prisoners.

Book preview

Remembrances of

My Service in World War II

Erich Scharf

Remembrances of My Service in World War II

Copyright 2012 Erich Scharf

Smashwords Edition

E & C Books, Publisher

First Printing 1999, First Online Edition 2012

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Digital edition by: GoPublished

www.gopublished.com

This is an autobiography of my time in the army during World War II as a Ranger, and then in the First Special Service Force. This work is based on my recollections of events.

Table of Contents

Introduction

America at War

North Africa

Italy

Venafro

Military Hospitals and The Naples Experience

Anzio

Artena

Rome

South of France

Isles D' Hyeres and the Riviera

Cherbourg and Onwards into Germany

Norway

Postscript

Photographs, Ten Plates

Suggested Readings

Tutorial Summary of the Political Situation in Europe, 1900-1950

INTRODUCTION

My account of the war years, 1943–1945, was planned to be a chapter in a book about my family history. Members of my family showed immediate interest in my war service so that the chapter is being released as an independent publication though it may still be incorporated in the final history when it is published.

It has been my intent throughout to present the period objectively, to give an unbiased and reasonably accurate account of remembrances past. This does not mean, by any measure, that I viewed the war with disinterest or without emotion. Certainly, I was fully cognizant of my role as a soldier in the service of my country and of the need for my total commitment. Presumably, the bulk of my fellow service men felt the same. The war had to be a joint effort for all citizens if it was to be brought to an early and victorious conclusion. Yet, in my case, there was an additional factor.

I was born in Austria and had lived under the Hitler regime for about a year starting in early 1938. I had learned what it meant to live under irrational, government imposed, discrimination and repression, knew what it meant to have your life style and your possessions taken from you. My experiences made me feel that I had a personal account to settle with the Germans and the Austrians when the time came.

My opportunity came when the Rangers came looking for volunteers and I joined the First Ranger Battalion. Later in the war, I was assigned to the First Special Service Force in which I became a Prisoner of War interrogator. I found that most of my encounters with the enemy involved German draftees who would much rather have been home with their families than in a room with strangers who acted like they would just as soon kill them as look at them. Exceptions were members of the Gestapo, SS, Submariners, paratroops, and veteran members of the Nazi party. These Germans were allowed to feel my displeasure.

I suppose that those who had experienced Japanese brutalities must have had similar feelings towards the Japanese people. I had never seen the Pacific Ocean and didn't know any Japanese. My feelings were therefore less intense regarding them.

I have pointed out that this account is intended to fill in a gap in a family history which was caused by my absence from home during my army service. The entire project reflects my experience during my teens when I found it almost impossible to elicit any coherent information about my family from my parents and relatives. Most frustrating was that my father had a collection of photographs at home from his service in World War I, plus medals and a saber, but evaded being drawn into any discussion about them. Also, with time I managed to collect many pictures of family members dating back to the late 19th century. I believe that some who will follow me, as new generations rise, will want to know about their origins like I wanted to know about mine, will want to share experiences of their ancestors. Hence this effort, which may be extended to cover not only my family but also the family of my dear wife. I do not expect that all in this captive audience will come to the story prepared with knowledge of history as relates to strange places and times. For those in need of background for the story, I have provided a summary covering the period from 1900 to 1950. The summary was prepared specifically for the story of World War II as seen through my eyes with no reference to the larger work of which it will, someday, form a part.

Finally, I wish to thank my family for its forbearance and valuable help without which this small book would not have seen the light of day. My wife, Charlotte, labored long and hard, proofreading and editing the text. My daughter, Naomi, read portions of the early drafts and made valuable editorial suggestions. My second daughter, Miriam, made many helpful suggestions, one being to issue this volume first as a separate item. She also helped me keep my sanity when I was learning my word processor during the early phases of the work. My son, Albert, contributed his skills as a designer and printer to create the final product. My thanks to all of them.

Erich Scharf

*****

AMERICA AT WAR

On December 7th, 1941, my family was enjoying a peaceful afternoon in their apartment in the Washington Heights section of Manhattan. We were about to go to the movies. Father was sitting in our only easy chair next to the radio intent on catching the opening measures of the New York Philharmonic's regular Sunday concert. Suddenly, the music stopped. An announcer alerted all listeners to stay tuned for an important announcement. Within minutes, we heard the report that Japanese planes had attacked Pearl Harbor. At that time, I was not familiar with Pearl Harbor and my father explained that it was an American naval base in Hawaii. Japan had gone to war with the United States by executing a surprise attack on a Sunday morning. Japan had a military alliance with Germany and Italy and these countries were expected to join Japan, to transform the European war into a world war.

Monday morning I went to work as usual. During my lunch break, I strolled over to the New York Public Library at 42nd Street and Fifth Avenue. Loud speakers had been set up and a large crowd had gathered. Soon, we heard President Franklin Delano Roosevelt address Congress; asking for an immediate declaration of war on Japan. Germany and Italy declared war on the USA the following day. The true extent of the disaster at Pearl Harbor was not revealed to the public until after the war.

I had arrived in the USA in March of 1939, an immigrant from Austria. The terms of my visa allowed me to apply for American citizenship and I applied immediately. The normal waiting period was five years, at which time it would be issued subject to my passing an examination by a judge and having behaved lawfully. Were I to join military service, the citizenship would be awarded automatically, subject only to honorable completion of service. I registered with my draft board and was called up for service in March 1943. After a cursory medical and psychological exam, I was classified lA. To illustrate the depth of the exam, the psychiatrist looked at me soulfully and asked me one question as I stood there naked in his office: Did you ever sleep with a woman? Upon receiving a No for an answer he said: You will. Then, he waved me on to the next examiner. Much later, I was reminded of the scene by a Mel Brooks comedy skit. The day after the evaluation, I found myself on a bus headed for Ft. Dix, New Jersey, the induction center for my geographic area.

My first challenge was to come to terms with army life. I faced an interviewing officer who was to evaluate my credentials and whom I tried to persuade of the value of my college studies in mathematics and physics. He wrote half a page and classified me as infantry. After this, I was given a bag of army attire as well as utensils and directed to a barracks, my new home.

A gentle sergeant introduced himself to my group as our charge of barracks noncommissioned officer. He then turned us over to a livid and sadistic pit bull wearing corporal's stripes on his arm (all corporals in basic training school are like that). By chance, our group included a veteran of the fighting in the Pacific who was returning to his unit after recovering from wounds received on Guadalcanal. He was half mad from his experiences still, and would use a handy broomstick to demonstrate bayonet combat with the Japanese. We tried to stay out of the way of both the corporal and the fighter as circumstances permitted.

I was one of the first to be assigned to K.P., i.e., kitchen police, duty. This topic had been the source of much