How ghastly he looked. How could people kill each other in such cold blood?
On this, our second day in action, I saw the first dead American soldier. He was lying near our tank, frozen. How ghastly he looked. How could people kill each other in such cold blood? New Years Eve night, 1944, we held the high ground overlooking Chenogne. Each evening our supply trucks would bring gasoline to us in five-gallon cans. Even on a day when we might have traveled only ten miles, the engine of the tank would have been running for twelve hours, so we would need to refuel. This required at least forty gallons of gas. The gasoline tanks were in the rear and were accessed by standing on the rear deck over the engine. This task was the responsibility of the driver and the assistant driver. When we stood on the rear deck to pour gas into the tank, we presented a good silhouette against a light background. Somehow, the Krauts knew when the trucks arrived and we were filling the gas tanks. They gave us a real New Years welcome with massive artillery fireworks. Incendiary shells we
