Saturday, 09 November 2013 04:39

William Henry Mee, Sr. in WWII

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US Army soldiers pose in suit for 5 schillings US Army soldiers pose in suit for 5 schillings Scotland

After Basic Training he reported into Fort Lee, New Jersey.  From there he was taken to Miami by train.  On the train because of his high IQ tests and the respect of the men in his unit he was made an Acting Corporal for transit.  This was in his record and would come back to him each time a new officer would size up the men under his command.  So my dad would always be offered another role in leadership; despite not liking the bureaucracy. 

 

At Miami, they disembarked and were marched to the beach in front of Miami’s largest hotels.  Some hotels were seized from German owners under the “Trading With The Enemy Act” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trading_with_the_enemy_act) these were the fanciest hotels right on Miami Beach.  The Germans had German tourists who would come to the United States and then take small cruise boats to Havana, Cuba for gambling and prostitution.  These hotels had the finest silk sheets, monogrammed bathrobes and towels monogrammed with the hotel’s logo.  The soldiers like my dad who stayed there just threw away the sheets, towels and robes after they got dirty and grabbed more out of the linen closets.  A lot of men kept the real silverware.  It was looting but hell, these were German owners.  The soldiers were finding out how the other half lived but they just didn’t have the servants to sustain it.  Many of the guys were from small towns and had never even stayed in a hotel before.  So it was quite a treat.  Some of the hillbilly-type of soldiers were teased by the other soldiers “about if they had ever slept indoors before.” 

 

The whole purpose for being stationed in Miami was to deal with the national emergency of possible Germans landing by submarine and seeking out the friendly German hotel owners for refuge.  It was thought that the German saboteurs would attack nearby shipyards to disrupt the war effort and then work their way through Georgia that had had a sizable German population since the American Revolution.  So my father had to do nighttime beach guard duty.  He marched 50 feet to the North and met his counterpart and did an about-face and marched 50 feet to the South where he met his other counterpart.  Because of the shortage of guns and worse yet the even dire shortage of ammunition, the soldiers were given an eighteen inch long Billy club.  My dad thought “what the hell is the Billy club good for when a group of German saboteurs run up from the water with guns in hand?”  It was a real sore point for him and made him question some of the Army’s other policies.  Secretly he wondered how we would win this war if they weren’t given the proper tools to fight it.

 

But the truth was that there were only a couple of hundred thousand guns in the entire Army, not enough to go around, and ammunition was even more limited.  It was essential for basic training that every soldier have the opportunity to fire a real gun with live ammunition after drilling to perfection with a dummy wooden gun.  Beyond that, the Billy club would do.  Probably several hundred thousand men were on that coast with that same experience.

 

Meanwhile, the Germans dispatched two u-boats with one four-man spy team each that would disembark to do sabotage.  One u-boat landed in New Jersey for sabotage in New York[1].  U-Boat U-584 with Kptlt. Joachim Duker in command, would take Edward J. Kerling, Herbert Haupt, Werner Thiel, and Herman Neubauer to the Florida coast.  Kerling and his three fellow would-be saboteurs landed at Ponte Vedra Beach, Florida, near Palm Beach, on June 16th. 1942.  Off they went by train to Chicago and Cincinnati to start their mission of destruction. U-584 sailed for home making it back to Brest, France on July 22.  The FBI caught all eight Germans and they were tried and hanged.

 

During the war, about 400 Miami hotels were used by the armed forces to station troops.  Some starting in 1940-41 to train British and Russian airmen.[i]

 

When they first marched to the beach, the soldiers were told to find a room in the three hotels and await further orders.  The officers and non-commissioned officers left the area.  As men started going into the one hotel, a group of Southern White men standing on the steps to the entrance, started yelling at some Blacks---saying something to the effect that “Niggers shouldn’t sleep where decent White people would be sleeping after the war.”  My father seeing the commotion and being respected by both the White men and Black men in his unit, went up the steps.  He said there must be a way to accommodate the colored soldiers since they were fighting for our country.  The Southerners told him he was a Yankee and he didn’t understand the Southern culture.  My father stressed that there was an abundance of rooms and there was no need to fight over it.  He was told that niggers should sleep on the ground and not in the beds of White people. My father then said the only compromise was to make the first two hotels off limits to colored soldiers and the third one open to the Colored soldiers. 

 

The commotion, almost near riot stage, brought a couple of White officers to the scene.  One of them fired into the air and they asked everyone to calm down and the crowd did.  The commanding White officer asked “what was going on here.”   The White Southern ring leader explained his position and the Black soldiers just snarled back in return.  Someone said that this guy had a solution and pointed to my dad.  The officers asked him to explain.  My father then said the only compromise was to make the first two hotels off limits to colored soldiers and the third one open to the Colored soldiers.  A lot of men echoed their approval of this idea, with the resounding of “Yeah, yeah” and the Commanding White Officer was left no choice but to order it.  A few minutes later, as the angry crowd, that was on the verge of a riot, dissipated to find their own rooms, an officer from Alabama[2] came up and asked my dad his name.  He then said that he would be watching him closely and if he ever did the slightest thing out of line he would throw the book at him.  He said something to the effect in a southern drawl, “I don’t know who you are, or where you are from, but I’ll be watching you.”  My dad said it sent a chill down his spine, and the words would come to haunt him.

 

There are apparently no records of this conflict even with the gunshot occurring.  But my father wound up on Kitchen Patrol a lot after this after being ‘blacklisted’ by this officer (there are some other personal stories of KP in this account later on). 

 

A few days later, he saw the same officer and was giving him what my dad termed a “shit-eating grin,” when the officer sought to discipline him.  The officer ordered him to dig a hole on the beach 6’ x 6’ x 6’ and when he was done to come get him.  When he finished he went for the officer.  Then the officer ordered him to fill in the hole.  Then he had him dig it out again and fill it in again.  Then the officer told him to report for Kitchen Patrol. 

 

Kitchen Patrol or “KP” for short, was often considered the Army’s worst job and as an initial universal disciplinary action.  It was also a status thing---that once your unit knew you were on KP you were suppose to be humiliated in front of the other soldiers and therefore singled out and defeated as a ‘rebel leader.’  You were then supposed to conform to the Army system.  The absolute worst thing on KP was to peel potatoes.  It was a job that was demeaning and intended to break the spirit of the recipient of the punishment.  The first day of KP he peeled a lot of potatoes and pulled the eyes out of them which started to really get his hands very itchy and red to the point he could barely use his hands.  So the next day, he carved the potatoes down past all the eyes with his knife and each potato was carved down to about an inch in diameter from the 2-3 inch potato that he started with.  The Chief Cook (a Master Sergeant with over 20 years in the Army) came in and saw these puny potatoes and asked what happened.  The Cook started turning red and shaking like he was going to explode like a tea pot.  The Cook exploded and started yelling about the waste of food that this was, and how food could not be wasted in a war.  He simmered down and collected himself and calmly asked: “what were you thinking?”  My dad stated that he didn’t like digging for the eyes in the potato since it made his hands itch.  They pulled him the next day from peeling potatoes and gave him other little cleaning jobs that kept him out of the hair and sight of the Cook, until his two weeks on KP were up.

 

My dad never received his temporary rank of Corporal as a permanent promotion; however, he was well received in the crap games that the Black soldiers ran behind the hotel.  They taught him secrets that would serve him well in later years in Las Vegas and Lake Tahoe, Nevada.

 



[1]  New Jersey had had several pro-Nazi rallies of an organization called the “German American Bund.” They had a camp in northern New Jersey called Camp Nordland opened on July 18, 1937 .The plot in the port of New York was foiled by the Mafia after Lucky Luciano was released from federal prison to help in the war effort.  http://afrocubaweb.com/assata4.htm

[2]  Many of the officers were from the South and had graduated from VMI, the Citadel, VMI, Texas A&M and other military academies.  They often hung around in groups of Southerners.



[i]  The Army established three major schools on Miami Beach: the Replacement Training Center, the Officer Candidate School and the Officer Training School. In 1942 the Army spent over $3 million on the Beach. By 1944 those schools occupied almost 400 hotels on the Beach plus the Nautilus and Biltmore hotels which had been converted into hospitals.

 

The federal government paid hotel owners $20 per man per month, which was considerable less than the normal seasonal rate. The dearth of tourists, however, made the owners happy to get any amount for their rooms. The government’s payments also had the added benefit of being spread evenly throughout the year rather than being limited to a short winter season.

 

Private schools like Embry Riddle and the University of Miami, which trained British aviators before the United States entered the war, continued to train allied pilots and navigators throughout the conflict. The Armed Forces’ schools also trained allied troops in South Florida.

 

Well over 600,000 men trained in southern Florida during the war. Twenty-five per cent of the Army Air Force’s enlisted men and 20 per cent of its officers trained on Miami Beach. The Navy processed over 50,000 men through its subchaser school and over one-third of the naval gunners in the Pacific learned their trade in Hollywood. Besides the Americans, over 3,300 Brazilians went through the subchaser school and 1,016 men from seven different countries learned how to use sonar in Key West.

 

http://www.historical-museum.org/collect/world_war/ww2-2.htm

 

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William Mee

Resident of Agua Fria Village Traditional Historic Community (THC) a place of settlement since 1640, grew up by Cerrillos, N.M.  Went to SFHS, NMSU and College of Santa Fe; and later UNM.  Member of Agua Fria Village Association and Acequia Agua Fria Association.

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3 comments

  • Comment Link William Mee Tuesday, 11 November 2014 20:08 posted by William Mee

    A lighter is a type of flat-bottomed barge used to transfer goods and passengers to and from moored ships.

    This was a footnote left off of the Journal.

  • Comment Link William Mee Tuesday, 11 November 2014 19:56 posted by William Mee

    Journal of William Henry Mee, Sr.
    Written during World War Two.

    On the Queen Elizabeth:

    (Written in pencil; William H. Mee, Jr.’s commentary will be within these parentheses)

    We were stirred mildly by the rumor that land was near. It was a soft Spring day and the greenish waves made by the knife prow (bow) broke into a myriad little fairy white bubbles that softly sibilantly sang as they raced down from the crest to meet the sea. A light breeze in a feeling of expectancy in the air made all hearts light.

    There’s land! From everywhere came the soldiers to crowd the rail(ing) and gaze at the low lying green hills running down into the sea. Yes, it looked just as we expected it and had seen it in pictures. This was the Firth of Clyde and we were going towards Glasgow, (Scotland). On the summit of one hill, stood the grim ruins of an old castle giving a impression of ancient strength to the land. We took turns gazing through the binoculars of one of our lieutenants.

    As we proceeded up the firth, all the gambling stopped and everybody got his equipment together in preparation for the disembarkation. Finally we dropped anchor off the town of Greenoch (this was left blank and filled in later with black pen).

    Page 3

    Hundreds of Sea gulls immediately swarmed around the ship to scavenge on the slop thrown overside. They were clean, grey and white birds that fought over the crusts of bread, etc. We watched them fight for the food, and flying in circles while waiting for their turn to join the fracas.

    Across the bay, the town lay quiet and peaceful, while a few war ships gave the only war-like appearance to the harbor. An American submarine sailed past an incoming freighter which had a

    Page 4

    barrage balloon floating from a cable above it. A few lighters were nonchalantly lying-to at the ship while air-sea launches of the R.A.F. brought officials aboard and took others off.

    One large lighter, which had the good fortune to be tied against the ship was showered with American coins, cigarettes, and paper books. It was the exuberance of the average American, glad to be near land again and over-anxious to be friendly. There was quite a scramble amongst the crew to collect the loot.

    Page 5

    Finally the Adjutant got his orders to move our squadron. We grabbed our packs and slung them. Hanging on to our carbines and nearly buckling under the weight of the barracks bags, we went down three decks and filed onto the deck of the lighter. It was a large boat and was originally used for work in the English Channel as a passenger packet.

    Jim Dugan, straining under weight of his bags, decided he needed a smoke. Pausing by the open gangway next to me, he dropped his burden and putting his carbine between his knees, he took out a cigarette.

    Page 6
    As he lit the cigarette, he relaxed, and to his consternation he dropped the gun overside. (seems like it would slide right under the railing) We all broke out laughing, and reaching over I marked an “X” on the (Queen) Elizabeth’s side with a remark about coming back after the war and dredging for it at that spot. We all laughed again. It was funny---for everyone but Jim.

    The lighter was loaded so we pulled for the shore. Once there, we filed out again and went on to a train which struck us as unique.

    Page 7 (Now written in purple pencil)

    Running the length of the car was on one side was an aisle with doors sliding to separate compartments. Inside the compartment were two seats facing each other with an air of stern dignity. Six of us sat rigidly facing each other for the next twelve hours. Sleep was impossible for the (illegible) position we had to sit; so I was introduced to the game of poker a few simoleons from the others pockets---beginner’s luck.

    Since it was evening when we boarded the train, we rode under black-out conditions. All blinds drawn,

    Page 8

    doors and windows closed, and lights shaded. Leids was therefore a welcomed relief. The town was right on the Scottish border and the town had a refreshment stand which served us with tea and cakes. We returned to our seats and kept on to we got to the Cranford Station.

    My first impression of England was that it looked very much like one big large beautiful estate shut off from the station by an old stone wall. Actually the wall enclosed the station and the eternal greenness and orderliness

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    Of the country gave it the appearance of an estate kept by a body of caretakers.

    We piled into the inevitable G.I. trucks went to the drome (aerodrome), ate a meal, and were assigned to Nissan huts. Well, I thought if this is war, I don’t mind it. With this thought in mind, most of us went to sleep. Unmindful of our new surroundings.

    ATTENTION! Attention! Red alert! Blurred out over the tannoy waking us out of a sound sleep. Having seen pictures of the London

    Page 10

    Blitz, we grabbed helmets and gas masks and made for the bomb shelter. What a motley crew we were, with our shoes and underwear on and helmets and masks in place. That was the only time we ever heeded the warnings. There were many other times when enemy planes were overhead, but we never ventured more than a sleepy comment when we heard the alert sound. I guess the first bomb would have cured that but it never fell. That night we were really scared and expected the Luftwaffe to wreak vengeance on us though.

    Page 11

    When we were at the field only a short time, a rumor started that I never could trace. It was to the effect that Lord Haw Haw the German propagandist announced that the clock in the officers’ mess at G.V. (Grafton-Underwood) was 20 minutes slow. An officer hearing the program from Germany checked the clock and was amazed to find it true. We were all inclined to believe the story and were noticeably shocked.

    (Now written in regular pencil)

    For weeks we were sure the Nazis were watching our every move and were waiting for us to operate the base before bombing us. Gradually we became

    Page 12

    acclimatized and naturalized to our new home. A few bought bicycles from the station personnel and we watched their antics with secret smiles. The brakes were on the handlebars instead of being controlled by the pedals. Occasionally a brave, skillful soul would ride “no hands” and coming to an obstacle in his path, start to back pedal for his brakes. Before he realized where his brakes were, and grabbed them, he was spread (out) all over the lovely landscape.

    Page 13

    We had one lieutenant named Julius who was a stickler for military discipline. Returning the salute of one of the men, he was thrown off his bike into the shrubbery. A while later, he was describing the incident to a group of fellow officers. Showing them the movement he had made, he again had the bike slip out from under him. “See.” Was all he could say from the middle of the puddle, where he sat grinning.
    Page 14
    At this time, which was later in June, the days were long and the sun set at about ten o’clock. This was fine for most of us who liked to hike around the country(-side) after work and see the old churches of the small towns, but it played havoc with the love lives of the wolves. Indeed, it was so hard on some of them that they moaned and groaned, and wished for winter. The countryside of England is one of the most beautiful in the world. Everywhere are green fields with dark

    Page 15

    hedgerows dividing them. There are occasional groves of trees and along the many winding roads are fine old oaks, scraggly, ugly, sturdy oaks---looking into the eyes of time with a stare of grim determination. In June, the fields are covered with a myriad red poppies growing from the sky giving the earth a bare red look from the sky. Yes, beauty could be seen at every turn---then came a week of rain.

    “God, what a country! Here we are up to our knees in mud and when we will this

    Page 16

    damn English weather going to stop? Why I’d give my right arm to be back in the states.”

    That would set it off, and then everyone would rant on about everything. We had a name for it, griping. Once started, we’d mutually complain about the food, the beds, the weather, the life, and the army in general. Happy Warriors, that was us. It was a real release for a lot of our pent-up emotions and was a lot better than being silent and bitter though.

    Page 17 (Now written in blue pen)

    All the while we were learning to like England, our planes were flying daily. The crews were getting last minute training in formation flying and bombing that was to prove invaluable to them later on. It was a common sight to see the fortresses crawl slowly and awkwardkly to the end of the runway, poise for a short while, and then go thundering across the field with a powerful roar until they were airborne. Once in the air, a fortress pulls up its ungainly gear and becomes a sleek thing of beauty.

    As we grew in experience, we also grew in impatience. When will we have our first mission. What will be the target bomb load, where will the target be? It was on one of those first pre-operational flights that tragedy struck.

    The planes were coming in for a landing and two were flying dangerously close. At the control tower, operations called and told one of them to pull up. The lower one pulled up in front back of the other and chewed off its tail. The stricken plane hovered for an instant and then nosed over and plunged a few hundred feet, into the earth. The impact set the plane afire and within a short time little was left of the wreckage. Five……

    Page 18

    Only five men were on board, but the needless loss of life shocked us all. Here was death staring at us, before we had even ventured into combat. Everyone thought quite a bit during the next few days and became more grimly serious about their respective jobs.

    We were awakened early on the AM of June 232 with the news that it was the real thing at last. We struggled out of bed very tired but nonetheless excited. Outside the Nisson huts a truck was waiting to take us the two miles out to the “line.” Previous to our early arrival, the armorers had been out all night loading the bombs on the ships and seeing that the guns were in

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    working order. We arrived at the planes wide awake due to the cool of the early morning. Getting the planes in shape was fairly simple since they all had been completely checked the night before. We ran up the engines and gave them the final check, and completely serviced the plane. Satisfied that everything possible had been done, we waited for the crew.

    They finally came an hour and a half later, chewing nervously on the gum given them at briefing. They anxiously assembled their guns and tried to give an impression of casualness. We knew that this was a test of us both and that after

    Page 20

    (missing)

  • Comment Link Mike Lord Saturday, 09 November 2013 16:10 posted by Mike Lord

    Great story, William. I learned a lot. Thanks to your dad for covering our backs and being on the forefront of the battle against racism.

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