Chaplains of the
36th Infantry Division
by
Chaplain (Colonel) Herbert E. MacCombie
Division Chaplain
Train Crossings, A Court Martial And Eggs
When we were first in North Africa
the trains moved very slowly. We rode from Oran to Magenta in old boxcars
like the famous 40 hommes et 8 chevaux of World War I vintage. Later when
we would come to a railroad crossing and the crossing attendant waved his
flag, we paid no attention to him because we knew we would be across the
tracks long before the train would arrive. One day as I came to a
crossing the attendant rushed out in front of my jeep waving his arms and
shouting, “Pas Africain, Americain”. Just then the train whizzed by.
American locomotives had arrived in Africa. After that we were more
cautious in approaching railroad crossings.
One day one of our enlisted men went
AWOL. The military police went searching for him. They saw no one except
natives. Then one of the natives came up and pointed to a figure in the
distance. He was dressed in a bed sack. He wore a towel around his
head. At a distance he looked like an Arab. The natives insisted that he
was an American. The M.P.’s picked him up and he was scheduled for a
court-martial.
We visited him in the stockade. He
told us that he had been reading the literature of Jehovah’s Witnesses.
He decided that God wanted him to be a missionary to the Arabs. We asked
if he spoke Arabic or French. He did not, but he was sure God would give
him the right words to speak when the occasion arose. He showed us the
literature he had been reading. When the court-martial was held, Chaplain
Mehl was qualified as an expert witness in the field of religion. His
presentation was so convincing the man was found “not guilty”. Afterwards
he became a good soldier.
While we were driving from
Magenta to Rabat, we passed many beautiful farmhouses. I thought my
French was pretty good, so I stopped several times and asked for “des
Oeufs”. I never got any. Finally, my driver, who was from Brooklyn,
said, “Let me try.” I told him, “You can’t even speak good English, how
do you expect to communicate?” Since I was getting nowhere, I decided to
let him try. We stopped at the next farmhouse. He came out with his
helmet filled with eggs. I was amazed. “How did you do it?” “I just
waved my arms and said ‘Cock-a-doodle-do’”. He didn’t have even the right
sex, but he was successful. Many times success in combat and life is like
that.
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Copyright 2001
by Mary MacCombie Fietsam
Printed by Permission |
