A Louisiana Soldier: Willis A. Fontenot: 86th Chemical Mortar Battalion, WWII

By Dianne Dempsey-Legnon

Willis Fontenot grew up fishing the bayou waters, hunting for game, and racing bareback on horses with little knowledge of the world beyond Belaire Cove, Louisiana. But as the Allied powers sought to invade Europe in 1943, duty uprooted Willis, thrust him into one of the most difficult times in history, and altered his view of humanity forever.
Narrated by his third daughter, Willis’s story of sacrifice and survival follows his journey as he unveils memories and reflects on life experiences as he falls in love, trains for war, and crosses the ocean to battle the enemy as a member of a battalion that battered German positions for over three hundred days. While conveying his fears, love for his fellow soldiers, despair, and ultimately his desire to survive, Willis shines a light on members of a courageous generation that persevered under horrific conditions to ensure freedom.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Mar 9, 2016
• ISBN: 9781483442136

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Village

A LOUISIANA SOLDIER:

WILLIS A. FONTENOT

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86TH CHEMICAL MORTAR BATTALION, WWII

DIANNE DEMPSEY-LEGNON

Copyright © 2016 Dianne Dempsey-Legnon.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means---whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic---without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

ISBN: 978-1-4834-4212-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-4214-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-4213-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015919249

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 5/23/2016

CONTENTS

Preface

Early Years

Army Training

Mapping Willis's War

England Bound

Normandy Campaign

Northern France Campaign

Brest Peninsula

Eastern France

Ardennes Campaign

Rhineland Campaign

Central Europe Campaign

Home at Last

Epilogue

Appendix

References

Acknowledgments

About the Author

With deepest admiration for all of America's brave veterans

In particular my father

Willis A. Fontenot

November 1, 1920-April 21, 2015

To banish war, he must a warrior be.

The Peacemaker by Joyce Kilmer

PREFACE

Willis Fontenot had no idea that his life was about to change---the change would require sacrifice, the sacrifice would create inner struggle, and the inner struggle would be suppressed for a lifetime. He grew up in Belaire Cove, a tiny settlement on the edge of Ville Platte in south Louisiana---Prairie Cajun country. As a young boy, he attended church, fished the bayou waters, and hunted for game in the woods nearby. He played baseball in the field after school with friends, caught crawfish in the ditches, and raced bareback on horses in hopes of winning a soda pop. Eventually he quit school to work on the family farm with his father. He spent the remainder of his youth cultivating, planting, and harvesting crops. Life was simple and straightforward.

The distinct French and Acadian traditions and customs of his isolated community shaped his character. French was his primary language. Faith in God, love of family, and joie de vivre¹ encompassed his life experience. The vast prairie, the tall grasses and medicinal plants, the Mississippi River and bayous, combined with the fertile soil for growing crops and grazing cattle, provided all that he needed. Willis Fontenot knew nothing of the outside world---politics, economics, and intolerance.

In October of 1929, America's financial market collapsed. However, the challenges of the Great Depression were not apparent to the Prairie Cajuns living in Belaire Cove. Willis's family bartered for most of what they needed. Wants were hardly a consideration. He often repeated, Nothing changed for us. We had always been poor. We had no money, but the farm provided plenty for us to eat.

The depression brought about President Roosevelt's New Deal, and Willis chose to leave home in search of a job. A paycheck in return for hard work was an appealing incentive with an additional bonus: an opportunity to meet diverse individuals and entertain new adventures. Willis was a man who immersed himself in the present and adapted quickly to new surroundings. However, with the onset of World War II, the future loomed heavily. Drastic changes were about to occur---changes that would ultimately take him far from his beloved home, Belaire Cove.

Following the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, the Selective Service required that men eighteen years or older register for the draft. Willis willingly complied and returned home to wait for further notification. Conversely and without his prior knowledge, Willis's father, a veteran of the Great War, filed deferment papers and obtained an agricultural exemption on his son's behalf.

However, when the Allied powers sought to invade Europe, the Selective Service rescinded his exemption. While on the cusp of adulthood, duty uprooted him from his indigenous community and thrust him into one of the most difficult times in the world's collective history. The war forever shattered his interest in the greater world and altered his view of humanity.

Willis Fontenot was one among millions of America's brave soldiers propelled across the Atlantic for the final push across Europe to regain power and bring stability back to war-torn countries. He was an active combatant in a battalion of men supporting various divisions of the army during the Overlord Campaigns, including the last five major battles of World War II. He received the Bronze medal for his action in Vossenack, Germany during the Battle of the Bulge. This is his story.

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Good luck, bad luck. Sometimes-bad luck, sometimes-good luck. It all came my way. I'm sad most of my buddies are gone, but I'm glad I'm still here to tell my story.

Willis A. Fontenot

Summer 2014

EARLY YEARS

BELAIRE COVE, LOUISIANA

REVENUERS

FALL 1932

Papa woke me up in the middle of the night. He needed me to translate for him. The fast-talking buyer spoke English, and Papa, French. I was twelve years old.

Cowboys from Texas came to buy the liquor. They covered the whiskey with saddles and blankets to cross the state line. They usually bought twenty to thirty gallons from us. But this fella wanted two thousand gallons. Papa didn't have much on hand, so he called upon his neighbors and relatives. They all brought a little bit of what they had to sell. We met at Uncle Festus's house in the middle of the night. We suspected something wasn't right; times were hard and families needed the money. We had a plan just in case.

I had never seen a Roman candle before. I'm guessing shooting off the Roman candle was a warning. The so-called buyers wanted to take all of the whiskey and not pay us. They pulled out their guns. Men on both sides drew shotguns, pistols, and rifles. Papa pushed me under the Model-T. When daylight broke, the revenuers were no closer to getting our whiskey. They flashed their badges and most dropped their weapons. They took out axes and whacked at the containers of liquor. Uncle Roy shot one in the face while Uncle Emile shot from the attic. A truck ended up in the cow pen and began to sink deep into the belly of the mud. Whiskey dripped from the truck. Everyone scattered.

Early the next morning, the revenuers came back. They went from house to house rooting out any stash of homemade brew that we had left, smashing the barrels and jars. Blackie, our hired hand, ran to the barn and tried to soak his red handkerchief in the spilled whiskey before it seeped into the ground. Just as he squeezed his handkerchief for a sip, he spotted the revenuers. He tried to run. They shot him in the back. They beat up another of Papa's field hands who tried to do the same---kept kicking him in the face and shot him in the leg. He lived, but he was never the same. They handcuffed Papa and took him away.

The rain fell hard the first night Papa wasn't home, and Mama made me put out buckets to catch the rainwater coming through the tin roof riddled with bullet holes. I spent the next day patching up the roof. The revenuers kept Papa for a while, but not long after, he returned home. Nobody went to jail, and the law cleared Papa's name.

We lost all of our whiskey. Papa felt real bad, but none of the neighbors blamed him. They all realized the deal was too good to be true. Before long, things went back to normal.

That was the first time I saw a man die.

BELAIRE COVE, LOUISIANA

THE GREAT DEPRESSION

1935

When the Depression came along, we didn't know what all the fuss was about. We had always been dirt poor and struggled to make ends meet. For sure, jobs were hard to find. Farming put food on the table, but not enough to support a big family. Since I was the oldest and wanted to help out, I worked whenever and wherever I could. I knew how to work hard from a young age. I had worked side by side with my papa for as long as I could remember. For a while, I worked in the rice fields near Roanoke, Louisiana. There was no such thing as hourly wages back then. I earned one dollar