Leonard's Story: Yank Jungle Patrol

Uncle Len would be around 24 years old when he writes this narrative. I am not sure what “AA men” would be — AA is sometimes America’s Army, other times Anti-Aircraft — I am inclined to the latter interpretation. BAR stands for Browning Automatic Rifle — photo here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Browning_ar001.jpg. “Division CP” would be Division Command Post.

____________________________________________________________

[handwritten: Ed - Please return this when you are finished. Thanks, Arnold

by L. J. Nevis]

                              ON A YANK JUNGLE PATROL

     Several weeks ago I had requested the authority to go on a 

patrol outside the perimeter into Jap territory.  The other day Maj.

Ayres stopped by and said that preparations had been made for 

me to go out on a patrol.  Several hours letter the S-2 of one 

of our regiments called and told me to be at J (J because of 

censorship) Company at eight o’clock wednesday morning.   I drew

the necessary equipment, and spent the rest of the day cleaning 

my carbine.  Calling back the next day to check on the patrol, 

I found that I should be there at seven-thirty instead of eight 

o’clock.  Before I went to bed tuesday night I had everything 

ready. For the first time since i have been here I got up at 

reville.  After a hasty breakfast, I had Letwin drive me up to 

J Company area, which was situated thigh up on the ridge that forms

the perimeter.  I was introduced to the Lt. who was the patrol

leader, rations and ammunition were handed out, and a few instruc-

tions were given.  We then boarded a truck and are driven out to 

the Company whose lines we were to go out through.  our patrol 

consisted of fourteen infantry men, as we detracted we were met 

by fourteen AA men, who were to go out with us.  The AA men were 

designated to bring up the rear, and I followed behind the Patrol

Leader, whose was in turn behind two scouts.  We started out single 

file up over a little ridge.  On the other side we could see an 

outpost, as we approached they open the wire in front of them so 

that we could pass through.  At the outpost we stopped and made 

a check of the radio and our equipment.  The command was then 

given to load and look.  We went out through the wire and down 

a path through the mine field that was planted in front of the 

wire.  We were on our own now, out in no-mans-land.  We kept going

down,the trail getting steeper and steeper.  This was nice after 

climbing over the ridge to the outpost, but then I realized that 

every step we took down meant two steps up.

     The men in the patrol were all young, probably between twenty 

and twenty-five.  They were wiry, healthy, good looking kids.

They all looked capable  and looked like they knew what the score

was.  Apparently the misfits and weaklings had been weeded out long 

ago.  We finally reached the bottom of the little canyon, and 

started up  It was hard work climbing with a pack, I was sadly 

out of condition and became quickly winded, but somehow I kept 

up with them.  The morning passed slowly on, and we kept climbing 

or descending.  The trail became steeper and rougher.  Just about 

the time I felt I could go no farther, the patrol leader would

call for a halt.  The trail became even steeper; we would climb 

up for about fifty feet or so, and then rest.  I had only a piece

of toast and a cup of coffee for breakfast, and though I was wind-

ed before, I now began to feel weak.  I counted my pulse and it 

was constantly up around 150 or 160, and at times it went over

200.  I thought my heart was going to burst and my lungs ex-

plode with it.  Just about the time I felt I must stop, a call

came from the rear that that a man had fallen out.  We had to stop

and rest for a half hour, and wait for him to recover. This

certainly was a break for me.  A little while later two men fell

out and said that they could’nt go any further.  We radioed in 

[page 2]

our position and then left them there.  We then started forward

again, but this time a little slower.  We continued to climb and 

then descend, hour after hour, yard after yard.  A little before

twelve, we reached the crest of the ridge that we were to follow.

The mission of the patrol was to find a trail along this ridge to

an outpost that was our destination.  After following the ridge 

for about twenty minutes we stopped for lunch.  After I had eaten,

drank a good quantity of water and rested, I felt much better. At 

this point I learned that six of the AA boys had dropped out about 

eleven o’clock and started back, this decreased out patrol to twen-

ty men.  I was also told that the hardest part of the hike was be-

hind us, and so with the food, rest, and this knowledge I started 

off feeling more like my former self.  Although the ridge was eas-

ier than climbing up and down, it was was still rough.  The trail was 

narrow, and the ground sloped away rapidly on both sides.  If you 

can picture a flea walking along the top of a chipped and broken 

razor, you will have a rough idea of what it was like.  Occasion-

ally we would pass an old Jap gun position with some 75mm ammunition 

scattered around.  From these old positions we could look right 

down on our perimeter.  It must have been a terrific job for the 

Japs to get these 75mm’s up there.  Once in a while we would pass

a few abandoned Jap helmets.  Suddenly the Patrol Leader signaled

for a quick halt.  Ahead I could see a trip wire across the trail.

A scout went ahead to examine it.  It turned out to be merely a 

warning system, as it was attached to a couple of cans.  One of 

the men cut it and we proceeded, however a little more carefully. 

These two scouts had a tough job, every time the trail forked at 

a questionable place, they would drop their packs and each would 

investigate a branch.  They would then come back, and report their

findings to the Patrol Leader, who would decide which trail to 

take.  If any enemy was ahead they would be the first to contact 

them.  Behind me was a man with a BAR (automatic rifle) who could 

give immediate heavy fire power in case of contact with the enemy.

     We continued on when suddenly we were once again signaled to 

a quick halt.  Ahead was a newly prepared gun position.  We took 

cover, and the man with the BAR came forward to cover the scouts

while theyexamined the position.  One went to the left, the other 

to the right, and they started slowly crawling forward to flank 

the position.  Suddenly they jumped up and signaled us to come

ahead.  They postion was empty.  A little while later we reached some 

more old 75mm positions and the ridge fork at this point.  We

dropped down to rest, while the scouts went to investigate the 

fork.  In the distance we could hear artillery fire and some auto-

matic weapons firing.  I was so tired that I did’nt even bother to

try to find out how far away, where, or who it was.  The scouts 

finally came back, and it was decided to take the ridge to the 

left.  We were find later that this was to be an expensive 

mistake.  We started down the ridge, the going became rougher. 

Fortunately, the noon rest had done me a great deal of good and 

I was’nt any more tired than the others.  Once again we started 

to go up and down. The trail became steeper, and in many places 

it was necessary to use vines, or pull a man up with a rifle.

                                            -2-

[page 3]

Finally we started up a rather steep ridge, it was tough going,

but a least we thought we were on our way back to the main ridge.

However much to our disappointment we found our selves on top 

of a little pinnacle shaped mountain.  He we rested and the Patrol

leader planned the next move.  The dense jungle was a great hind-

erence on climbing up an down, but the vines are often handy at

a particularly tough spot.  We again got under way, this time we 

kept going down.  The slope became steeper, it was more and more 

difficult to descend we came to a little stream that was damp

but dry.  Here we started up again.  After a long climb we finally 

started down again.  The trail was an old one and hard to follow.

Suddenly the Patrol Leader signaled us to an abrupt halt.  The 

scouts went forward to examine a trip wire.  They were able to 

follow it for only about five feet on either side of the trail,

and then the going became too rough.  As it was slick they decided 

to cut it.  I got well back under cover, for if any booby traps 

were going to go off, I did’nt want to be around.  One man went 

forward and carefully cut the wire.  Nothing happened so we pro-

ceeded on down the trail.  After continuing down for several hun-

dred yards we found ourselves hacking through the brush.  Some-

where we had missed the trail.  The going got steeper, when we 

suddenly found ourselves on a ledge over a straight drop down.

     There was only one thing to do, and that was to go back.  I’ll

never forget that going back.  Once the Patrol Leader slipped and 

slid down about twenty feet before he finally caught hold of a 

root.  Somehow we finally made it back up and then down to the 

little damp stream bed.  Several of the men said that they could-

‘nt go up any more, they would have to go down.  We started to 

follow the stream down.  The rocks were slimmy with moss, here 

I took my first fall of the day.  The stream suddenly took a 

drop of thirty feet.  We went down a vine hand over hand. Every 

hold I took on the vine creaked and cracked, and I expected any 

minute to have it snap and go plunging down to the rocks below.

I was the fourth man down, the twentieth and last man said it had 

creaked and cracked on him.  Now we must continue downward for the 

vine would never hold if all of us tried to climb up it.  For some 

time now the men knew that we were lost, and they began to bitch 

bitterly.  A little further down the stream there was another straight 

drop.  We looked down and could’nt even see the bottom as it was 

obscured by folaige.  It looked like we were really stuck this

time.  The afternoon was wearing away, and in a few hours it 

would be dark.  The Lt. in charge finally worked his way around

a narrow ledge to the left, and we all followed.  After hacking 

along the edge of a very steep slope we finally came upon an old 

trail.  We started down, for over an hour we kept climbing down,

it was fast and rough going, as the Patrol Leader was trying to 

get us down to level ground before the sun went down.  We finally 

came out on an old Jap bivouac area, and upon crossing it we found 

a little stream.  Here we paused and filled our canteens, being 

careful to chlorinate the water.  Continuing on the trail, which 

now had become more  or less level we entered the site of a former

Jap hospital.  There were boxes, bottles, shoes, skulls, bones, 

and helmets strewn about. It was rather a funny feeling to look 

over at an old rusty Jap helmet, and see a skull nearby, sardonicly

leering up at you.  There were numerous foxholes, dugouts, and 

old fortifications on the other side of the hospital area.  About 

five-thirty somebody shouted, “This is far enough, lets stop for

                                             -3-

[page 4]

the night.  The Patrol Leader guided us off the trail to a little

level spot, and we threw off out packs.  I picked me a spot, and 

started to hack out a clearing with my knife.  About that time it

started to rain.  I did’nt even bother to put on a poncho, as I 

was already wet and covered with mud.  Normally guards and out-

posts would be posted, but we were all so tired that we were or-

dered to bunch up, and the Patrol Leader let it go at that. 

I asked him why we did’nt stop at the Jap bivouac area, as it was 

a much better spot.  He said that this place, well concealed and 

off the trail would be much safer.

     I opened my “K” rations and proceeded to eat a cold dinner of 

crackers, spam, and a choclate bar.  I took a couple of salt tablets

and some dextrose tablets, and prepared to settle down for the night.

I took off my wet fatigue jacket and slipped on a dry “T” shirt.

I dropped my poncho over my head and made a pillow out of my shelter

half, using part of it for a flap to keep the rain out of my face.

An hour later I woke up in a puddle, and had to move to higher 

ground.  Soon the rain let up and I fell asleep wet and cold with 

any and spiders crawling over my legs, and oblivious to the many 

sounds of the jungle night.About one in the morning I woke up ex-

tremely cold, I found that the warmest position was to lie on my 

side, cross my arms at my chest, and draw my legs up.  So once

again I fell asleep, however, this time with the moon shinning 

through a break in the trees right in my face.  About every hour 

i would wake up with a sore hip, then I would turn over on my back.

An hour later I would wake up very cold, so I would turn over on 

my other hip, curl up and go back asleep.  I did this alternately

all night.  We got up at six o’clock, ate breakfast, packed our gear,

and started off.  We figured ( or rather they did) that it would 

take us about two or three hours to hit the main trail that ran

out to a trail block and outpost.

     We went along a pretty good clip, I I was feeling pretty good

and did’nt mind it too much.  At one point it looked like we were 

going to have to cross a swamp, but they finally found a muddy

trail around the edge.  We were making pretty good time, when we 

found out that the rest of the patrol was quite a ways behind us.

They finally caught up with us, and they were pretty mad.  Mean 

words flew back and forth.  A man with a BAR wanted to throw it

away.  The Patrol Leader tried to find somebody else to carry it.

Every one declined, declaring that he was too tired.  Finally the 

Patrol Leader said that we would levee this spot until someone

would carry the gun.  The man that owned it then said, “I’ll carry 

the damn thing, lets get the hell out of here.”  Once again we 

plodded our weary way forward.  The jungle became very dense, you

could not see a man on the trail five feet in front of you.  Forty-five

minutes later we suddenly came out on the main trail, what a grand

and glorious feeling.  Because of the jungle out radio had not worked

since three the previous afternoon, so we flagged down a jeep and 

gave him the message to have the trucks come out and pick us up.

Two hours later I was sitting in my tent freshly showered and in 

clean sun tans relating my experiences to some friends.  Although 

we did’nt contact the enemy, I was well satisfied with patrolling, 

and determined to stay near the Division CP unless ordered to do

otherwise.

GO TO NEXT LETTER

Leonard's Story: October 5, 1944

                                      Thurs, 5th Oct.

                        [handwritten at angle] 1944

Dear Arnold,

     Thanks for your letter. It sure

sounds swell in the New England states

I wish I could be there for the fall.

Enclosed you will find a description

of a overnight jungle patrol.  I want

you to meet the guys that are winning

this war.  Please send this copy on

to Flavell after you are through with

it.  Write soon.

                      love,

P.S. His address:

           Lt E W. Flavell

           40 Kirkland St.

           Cambridge, Mass.

This is his old address, I can't find

the lastest one, would you see if you

can?  If not send it there, they'll

forward it.

GO TO NEXT LETTER

Leonard's Story: September 29, 1944

                                                                                    Fri, Sept 29th

Dear Arnold,

     Although this typewriter is broken, in that the lines do not
space correctly, I am not going to delay this letter any longer.
There is nothing new here in the way of big items, however, a few
little things have happened.  By now you must have received at least
one or if I remember correctly it should be two.  I am glad that
you like your set up so well.  I see by your address that you have
moved.  How do you like your new lodgings?  We take some hikes here
too, in fact one every week.  They aren't nearly as interesting as
yours, all we see are jungled lined roads.  The one good hike they
went on I missed because of work.  They hiked up a jungle trail to
a river.  There were remains of the Japs along the trail, bones,
clothes, and shoes.  Lt Gassner picked up one of the shoes to
examine it and the foot bones still in it.  One of the other Officers
from Ritchie, who is in another division went on a three day hike
up to one of the trail blocks.  He said the terrain was extremely
rough, up and down, dense jungle, and dangerous swamps.   Coming back
he said they kept meeting natives boys who are used as carriers.
All the English they knew was "hello Joe."  As my friend
neared the perimeter and the end of his journey, he met one last
native.  He decided to beat him to the punch by greeting him first.
As the native approached within talking distance, my friend smiled,
and said "hello JOE."  The native smiled back and answered, "how
do you do sir."

     You are probably wondering what I meant in the first part of
the above paragraph by receiving one or two, one or two what?  I
meant one or at least two of my letters by now.  I might explain at
this time that although  the spacing is broken on the typewriter, all
those typographical errors are not due to a broken typewriter, al-
though I wish I could say they were.  Now that I have cleared up
these points, I shall proceed.  Today we were presented with a
baby bat.  We had a bit of trouble with him at first.  We put him
a small can that some peanuts had come in, and he got some of the
salt that was left on his tail.  He because very agitated and we
finally fixed him up by giving him a bath.  We then decided to adopt
him as our mascot, and after a lengthy discussion, decided that
the way we would feed him was to tie a string around his neck and
have one of the enlisted men swing him around so he could catch
insects on the fly.  Imagine being told to take a bat out for an
airing!  Another per we have is a little tree frog.  Every night
just after we turn out the light and crawl in our sacks, he beings
to bark.  Yes, I said bark!  These frogs sound just like a little
fox terrier with a lusty voice.  Gas ( Lt Gassner) clapped his
hands and shouted "Shut up."  This startled the frog and he did
as he had been bidden, but only for a short time.  Soon he regained
his confidence, and first gave little short bark.  Nothing hap-
pended, so after a few minutes he gave a couple of more experimental
barks.  He waited a few seconds and then opened up.  He has become
very impertinent, and now will not shut up not matter how hard we
threaten, curse, or shout orders at him.  My other tent mate took
a flash light and tried to find him last night, but the little

[page 2]
devil hid, and soon as Bach stopped searching for him, he started
up again.  We took the philosophy that it was just another jungle
noise among the manny Jungle noises, and went to sleep.  It is
amazing what noise one of these small creatures make.   They are
only about the size of a baby toad, but the first night you hear
one you think some kind of jungle wild dog is barking not far
from your tent.

     It has almost been confirmed that I am not going to stay with
this outfit, Lt Gassner outranks me by a number of months.  Some
of my fellow classmates ended up in Army Headqtrs, and some we
haven't heard from might well be in Theater Hdqs [arrow] such is fate.  We now be-
lievethat a mistake was made in our shipment, and we went to the
wrong place.  This sure is a hell of a time to find out.

                                                                                   [arrow] censored by LJNevis
     I guess Dad wrote you that he asked xxxxxxxxx [crossed out] a friend. If he
knew where APO 37 was?  And Since this fellow had just come back
From the South Pacific, as he had been wounded.  The fellow replied,
"Do I know where APO37 is, Hell I was in it."If you don't know
where I am ask Dad to tell you.  The reason I didn't mention this
fellows name is that it might be against security regulations to
tell anyone where it [circled, arrow] APO37 is.  The censor might take his name down and
turn him in.  In fact the censor is probably having a hemmorage now
reading this, if he does.  However I don't think he can cut it
out, let me know if he does.

     I said let me know if the censor cut out any of the above para-
graph out.  Well this is about all the prittle-prattle I have
to tell you.  Write soon.

                                                             love,
                                            [signed] Leonard

GO TO NEXT LETTER