Delbert K. Sandt



Branch: ARMY
Service Number: 32485863 
Rank: Technician 5th Class (Corporal)
Unit: 747th Tank Battalion, HQ Co., Attached to 29th Infantry Div.

Delbert Kirk Sandt “Del" was born on June 2, 1922 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania to parents Luther Blaine Sandt and Agnes (Meyers) Sandt. He was baptized on October 22, 1922 at C.C. Hancock Memorial Methodist Church at 17th & York Streets, in Philadelphia by Reverend Amos E. Crowell.

The Sandt Family had originally lived in Reading, Pennsylvania. After their infant son Howard passed away at the age of 5 months in January 1907, Luther and Agnes moved to 2133 North Dover Street in the Strawberry Mansion section of Philadelphia.

In November 1910, Russell Calvin Sandt was born. Two years later, the Sandts would receive and early Christmas present with the birth of Luther Victor Sandt, born on December 20th. In December 1915, a daughter, Thelma Elaine Sandt was born in Camden, NJ. The family was living at 328 Warren Avenue in Camden. Tragically, Thelma died at only 2 months of age due to pneumonia. 

By 1920 the Sandts had moved back over to Philadelphia at 2526 North Bancroft Street. Del's younger brother, Walter Elmer Sandt was born in December 1923.  Some time before 1928, the family had moved to 2502 43rd Street in Pennsauken, NJ.   

Del's father had dealt with heart problems many years of his life. For decades, he had battled bouts of Myocarditis, an inflammation of the heart muscle tissue. He developed Atrial Fibrillation at the end of March, 1928 and passed away on April 4, 1928 due to complications with this disease. Luther had been a long time tooth mold engraver for the S.S. White Dental Company; a business which still operates to this day. Agnes and her boys would later moved to 819 Grant Street in Pennsauken. 

Agnes had planned to travel to Reading for the weekend on May 19, 1928. She took Del and Walter along, leaving her teen-aged sons Russell and Luther at home due to their work obligations. After their shift, the two agreed to travel up to Reading and meet with the rest of the family.

Young Luther had not been taking things well ever since his dad's funeral. Russell said that lately his brother was "touchy about trifles.” On Sunday, May 20th, the two brothers awoke about 1 A.M. and made their breakfast before heading out to work. The two teens were employed as bottle washers at a nearby dairy. Luther prepared his coffee, stirring several spoonfuls of sugar into the mug. Russell told him that he ought to use less sugar.  Luther suddenly exploded in rage over this comment. Russell left for work just after 2 A.M., Luther said he would be headed out a few minutes later.

By 4 A.M., Luther still had not arrived for work. Russell returned home to see what was wrong. He found his brother standing in the doorway leading to the attic. He called out to Luther, but there was no reply. He thought Luther was still upset at him and just ignoring his calls. Unfazed with the sibling cold shoulder treatment, Russell returned to work. Two hours had passed and there was still no sign of his brother at work. Russell once again went home to find Luther standing in the same position. Upon closer inspection, he discovered that his brother had suspended a rope from the rafters and tied the other end around his neck. The 14 year-old had bent his knees until choking himself to death. Young Luther had suffered from severe depression which sadly lead to taking his own life.

Del attended grade school and then high school but dropped out after his junior year to enter the workforce. One of his early jobs was at the Palace Skating Rink at Fourth and Federal Streets in Camden. While working there, his eyes caught those of this cute girl who had frequented the rink. Her name was Gladys Bradford of Mount Ephraim. Del was a sharp looking young man with tattoos adorning both of his arms, but he was also rather shy. It took him a while to work up the nerve to ask Gladys out for a date. The two were of the same age and quickly hit it off. The pair wore matching jackets, presumably from the skating rink. Hers with “Gladys” embroidered on the front and his with “Del.” The couple spent many weekends in the summer at the Bradford Family shore house in West Wildwood, NJ.

On October 18, 1941, Delbert married Gladys at the Mt. Ephraim Baptist Church. The event was officiated by Reverend Charles A. Bechter. William “Rip” Grasmick, of Camden (brother-in-law of Gladys) and Mary Oxley of Collingswood (sister of Gladys) were witnesses to the signing of the marriage certificate. Del had to have a consent for marriage of a minor paperwork signed by his mother and Gladys’s father as she was considered a minor. Del’s occupation at this time was listed as being an operator of a flexible grinder. On July 30, 1942, the couple welcomed the birth of a daughter, Shirley Joyce Sandt.

By this time, World War II was escalating for America. Young men were entering all branches of the armed forces to serve their country. Del had registered for the draft on June 30, 1942. According to his registration card, he had been working for the Ward Baking Company at 24th and Westmoreland Streets in Philadelphia. He stood at five-foot, six inches, weighed 164 pounds, had blue eyes, brown hair and a light complexion. On October 2, 1942, Del received a notice in the mail from the Camden County Selective Service Board #3 in Gloucester City to report for physical exam on the evening of October 9th. The week after the exam, he received word that he was classified as 1A, or “Available for military service.”

Just two days before Christmas of 1942, Del was selected by the Board for enlistment into the military. A brief ceremony was held in front of the municipal building at Broadway and Monmouth Street, where he and the rest of the group of selectees were sworn in. At the time, Del, Gladys and Shirley were living in an apartment at the corner of Kings Highway and North Oak Street in Mount Ephraim. Sandt was officially inducted into the U.S. Army at 9:15am on New Year’s Day, 1943 when he reported to the 1229th Reception Center at Fort Dix, NJ. 

It was a chilly 43° when Del arrived. He and the other draftees were taken to the mess hall where they ate lunch. This began a long day of orientation for the group. Training Companies and sleeping barracks were assigned, there were various lectures held, all were read the Articles of War, issued a uniform, two pairs of shoes, and other necessary gear — some 42 articles of clothing in total. This was stowed into two large duffle bags and had to be carried around at all times due to the possibility of getting shipped out at any moment. By the time day one was finishing up, it was getting late into the night.  The selectees headed over to the mess hall to eat whatever may have been left over from dinner time. They then had to march to get blankets, find their assigned barracks, make the bed and finally get some shut-eye. 

Day two, he and the rest of the recruits would be up bright and early at 5:45 A.M. for reveille formation. Afterwards they would return to clean up the barracks, shower, shave and report to the mess hall for breakfast at 7 A.M.  By 7:30, they were called to detail and each man underwent a detailed physical examination and administered a variety of vaccination shots. Fellow recruit, Gaetano “Tom" Amato of Washington Heights, New York said, “If you waited in line too long, you got two shots!” He also noted that the guys that had been in camp for a couple of days would tease the new guys about the shots with “propellers,” adding to their anxiety.” 

Throughout the course of the day, recruits meandered in and out of several buildings for various processing purposes. When the group got outside, they would attempt forming up and counting off. What was supposed to be a straight line of men mostly just ended up to be a crooked and disorderly mess. They had no previous training of how to properly fall in line. Because of this out-of-sorts formation, the leader would often accidentally double count or skip some of the men and come up with a wrong number. All the while, the men would shiver in the freezing temperatures of a brisk January day. The count was repeated over and over until a proper head count was successfully taken.

Following the exam, the men returned to the mess hall for lunch. The afternoon was spent marching and formation drills. By 3:30 P.M., the Company was dismissed and returned to the barracks to organize their belongings and report back for dinner at 6:30 P.M. Unfortunate souls would catch the much dreaded “KP” (kitchen patrol) duty. From 7 to 11 P.M., recruits were free to unwind. 

Recruits board the train at Fr. Dix
The routine for day three was much like the previous day. Up at the crack of dawn, and fall into formation. Getting ready for the Army life. After breakfast, the recruits took an IQ test and an interview to determine their aptitude for a job classification. They would also sign up for the G.I. life insurance policy which provided $10,000 to a soldier’s beneficiary if the applicant was killed in action. By January 9th, Del had orders to ship out. He boarded a train at Fort Dix with other recruits having no idea of their next destination. This was just another thing these men would learn about the Army.

He would travel by railway for four days, going through New Jersey, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Arkansas and finally ending up in Brownwood, Texas. The group was taken to nearby Camp Bowie, where they would begin basic training. Tom Amato had also travelled with this group. He described the place as a “dry county where bootlegging was the primary business” and that “the sheriff was the chief bootlegger!” The group slept on double bunks in huts — primitive single-story buildings constructed quick and cheap with rough-cut planking frames and some basic windows cut in. The outer sheathing consisted primarily of a thin, asphalt shingle siding. These shelters were bare bones, but had gas heating which kept things nice and warm. The down side was that these heaters worked too well, removing any humidity in the room and leaving the men feeling uncomfortably dried out. 

The new recruits were administered a vaccination shot upon arrival and assigned to the 747th Tank Battalion, an independent outfit used to support infantry units. This unit was activated at camp on November 10, 1943 under the command of Major Stuart G. Fries. Men were divided up into the various companies (A,B,C, Service, and Headquarters/HQ Company) within the battalion and began training separately with their assigned platoon. Del was assigned to HQ Company along with Tom Amato, who was with the reconnaissance platoon. Tom remembered conversations between the men in battalion was usually about home and people they knew as practically all the men in camp hailed from New York City and New Jersey. 

Another HQ Company member, Hymen “Hy” Wagner of Paterson, New Jersey noted the same. Hy said that “the battalion seemed comprised almost exclusively of men from New Jersey and New York.” He and Tom were completely correct with their statement. At the time, the Army requisitioned a group of men to fill the ranks of this tank outfit. This particular group of roughly 316 “fillers” had all come from Fort Dix, the induction center for those drafted from the New York City area and New Jersey. Additional men would filter in from Fort Knox, Kentucky later in the month. 

Ted Surowiec
Theodore “Ted” Surowiec, a native of Newark, New Jersey was also a member of HQ Company. Ted recalled that “the spirit at camp was like a neighborhood, with guys from across the country chatting about what could happen, what war might be. The dark unknown.” Del would become friendly with Ted, Isadore Martin from Manhattan, NY, James Cooney from Morristown, NJ,  Peter “The Greek” Zanas from Brighton Beach, NY, John Smith from Elizabeth, NJ, Frank Switka from Woodbine, NJ and Arthur Worley from Lemon, MO.

Pete Zanas
The weather in this area of Texas reached a high into the 80s during the days and down into the teens by night. Recruits would begin training at 6:45 A.M. on most days. Within the first few days at camp, Del would learn about the Thompson submachine gun and get to fire the weapon at the range. He and the outfit would go on long marches through the country. Back in the classroom, Del would learn the operations of the tank corps and all about the armored vehicle itself. Next, came the opportunity to drive the tanks, half tracks, battalion trucks, jeeps, and tractors. The battalion had begun to train with the M3 “Grant," an older medium tank originally manufactured for the British. It had a 75mm gun that was mounted offset on the hull which gave it a limited range of movement. On a small rotating turret, the tank had a 37mm gun and a Browning .30 caliber machine gun. 

Frank Switka
By the middle of January, the men were informed that their basic training would be cut down from 13 weeks to 4. They could leave camp any time after being dismissed for the day and would not be required to return until roll call at 6:45 A.M., unless orders to the contrary. This might perk may have proved useless as the battalion continued putting long hours into their training at Bowie. On most evenings, they would attend instruction classes that lasted until each person was familiar with the subject matter, regardless of the hour. The hikes were considered short (10 miles or so) but now the pace was sped up to double-time. While out in the field, the men would traverse an obstacle course, learn hand-to-hand fighting, gas attack procedures, map reading and scouting techniques. Out on the firing range, they shot the 75mm and 37 mm guns on the tank, the Browning .50 and .30 caliber machine guns, the Thompson "Tommy” and M3 “grease gun” submachine guns, as well as the Colt M1911 pistol. The group was also required to learn how to fire mortars and howitzers. Del and the men of the 747th were not just becoming mere soldiers, they were tankers. 

The battalion was notified that they would be reassigned to the Tank Destroyer Center at Camp Hood in Killeen, Texas on January 28th. The men finished up whatever training needed to be completed at Camp Bowie and began packing up their belongings, preparing to move out. By February 15th, the 747th Tank Battalion had completed the shift to Camp Hood via rail and motor convoy. The battalion was selected to act as schooling troops for the tank destroyer battalions training at the facility. The men moved into two-story barracks and resumed with their training. 

M4 "Sherman"
Eventually, the M3 tanks would be replaced with the newer M4A4 “Sherman” tanks. These had a 76mm gun that was mounted in a full 360° rotating turret making this vehicle more reliable, versatile and a welcomed change. Tankers would practice driving the tanks just about every day and slightly less occasionally, fire the guns on the artillery range to familiarize themselves with their upgraded equipment. The battalion would begin running exercises with the tank destroyers. The 747th was slated to be the ever present “foe" at Camp Hood.

Del was so busy with his training that he had little time to write letters home. On February 21st, he did get an opportunity to send a recording of his voice on a record to Gladys. Pepsi Cola sponsored “A Recorded Message From Your Man in the Service.” They would bring a portable recording device to several training camps around the country. On this record, he spoke of how much he loved and missed his wife and that the Army was keeping him in peak condition. He asked her and the family to keep sending letters to him.

One day in early March, entertainer Bob Hope dropped by Camp Hood to visit the young, fighting men and broadcast his radio program. For the rest of the month, the battalion completed a grueling week-long commando course, had lessons in street and woods fighting, battle firing, scouting and patrolling. They were introduced to various uses of explosives and demolitions. The men also began qualification for firing tank weaponry. Del would receive a First-Class Gunner qualification for the Thompson machine gun on March 27, with a score of 79.  Around this time, the company commanders for the 747th were chosen. HQ Company was led by 1st Lieutenant Donald R. Boardman and 1st Sergeant John Brooks. 

In April, the battalion had a cross-country tank race. Each company entered 2 crews and the winner received a 3-day pass. The race took place just outside of the immediate camp area before sunrise. The race started out pretty even, but Bob Cadmus of “A” Company broke away from the pack and became the eventual champion. The middle of April was devoted solely to driving the Shermans and shooting at the range. By the end of the month, the 13 weeks of basic training were finally complete. Originally cut to 4 weeks, the battalion was able to squeeze their requirements into the schedule in between warring with the Tank Destroyer Battalions. 

The tankers were still qualifying on the range. Del would test out his skill shooting the bow-mounted M2 Browning .30 caliber machine gun. He would sit in the assistant driver position located in the tank’s version of a passenger-side seat. John Smith from Elizabeth, NJ acted as the driver during this period. On May 6th, Del would just barely qualify as a Second-Class Gunner with a score of 388 out of 500. Seems he was not meant to be a gunner.

Del Sandt
Del would eventually end up getting assigned as the driver of a tank crew. This crew included Corporal Ted Surowiec, Private Pete Zanas and Private Frank Switka. Ted became commander of the tank. He was positioned in the turret and called all the shots. Seated down in the front of the tank next to Del was Pete, whose job was to man the bow-mounted .30 caliber machine gun and acted as the assistant driver. Up in the turret with Ted, Frank’s job was to load the projectiles into the breach of the 75mm gun, aim and fire under the order of the commander. Usually, a tank crew would have five members; commander, gunner, loader, driver, assistant driver/bow gunner and driver. It is unknown why Surowiec’s crew only had four, leaving Switka to handle two jobs.

As the month of May went on, the 747th Tank Battalion would be inspected by General Durham of the Army Vocational Training Center for Camp Hood, Major Thompson and his staff. Once this was complete, the tankers were granted a 10-day furlough. Private Sandt, dressed in his Army uniform, would return home to see his wife, his adorable baby girl and his family. Before leaving Texas, he sent Gladys a Mother’s Day telegram saying “Loving greetings on mothers day. You are more than ever in my thoughts at this time."

Upon returning to Camp Hood in the beginning of June, the 747th was notified that they would be moving to another section of Hood. The men packed up their equipment and set up at an outpost station called “Cottonwood Camp #3.” This area was primitive. There were no longer barracks to bunk in or any facilities. The men would have to pitch tents and sleep on the ground. The training schedule ramped up, with everyone putting in 12 to 14 hours each day. Rain or shine, blazing hot or freezing cold -- it didn’t matter. These tankers were out in the field getting plenty dirty (or muddy) and dealing with whatever the elements could throw at them. Ted Surowiec said, “I remember that the tanks had steel treads on the track and churned the dirt into dust as fine as talcum powder when dry and black, muddy quagmire when wet. The tanks were ice boxes in the winter and ovens in the summer.” Not only were the men battling the weather and the Tank Destroyers, they also had to deal with the non-stop onslaught of mosquitos, spiders, chiggers and snakes. 

Into July, the battalion continued with their intensive routine of training. A special emphasis was placed on the maintenance of the vehicles. The service companies would begin cycling groups of tanks, halftracks and trucks in to get overhauled, allowing the armor to keep rolling along. Also of importance was the detail of policing and sanitation of camp. They would often get detailed to guard duty with the responsibility of watching over German prisoners of war who were shipped to the States. The men would be congratulated by General Biddle for tackling a feat thought to be impossible. They absorbed two years worth of training in only seven months. Del wrote to Gladys wishing she and Shirley were living down in Texas with him. He asks her if she had ever heard the song, “You’ll Never Know.” Del writes, “Well that’s me singing to you. I can’t wait ’til the time I can hold you in my arms once again like I used to do and kiss you about 1000 times.” 

On July 19th, the Selectees' Mothers Club of Mt. Ephraim awarded Del with a $3 cash gift. The Selectees' Mothers Club, Chapter XI, of Mount Ephraim was organized in August 1942. This club hosted card parties to raise funds for cash gifts to send to each person serving in the military. Any serviceman from the borough without representation in this organization, was given "adopted parents" to sponsor them. The Selectees' Mothers planned and oversaw the construction of an honor roll which displayed the names of those residents of the borough who were serving in the military. They also were responsible for the erection of the World War II memorial now at Veterans Triangle on Davis Avenue, on which Del's name would ultimately be engraved. The money in which he was awarded was mailed out to him and used for whatever he needed. It was a token of goodwill and appreciation for his service.

August began as a busy month for the 747th tankers. The battalion was still working with the tank destroyers, getting them prepared to go to war. They were working so hard that after the medical company inspection, the tankers were imposed a two-week rest period. The food rations were doubled, and men were taken on day trips to unwind. Del would send birthday cards to Gladys who would turn 21 on August 10th. One sent was address from himself along with five dollars inside. The second card was from both he and Shirley. As the month progressed, the inspections continued for the battalion. The men would go to the range and fire off rounds from the 75mm and 37mm guns for qualification. They received a letter from Colonel Steel stating the 747th Tank Battalion was the best ever trained in medium tanks. The tankers owed this to Colonel Brown, who had worked his men into a well-oiled fighting outfit who had defeated the tank destroyers who went up against them time after time.

Del and Shirley - Wildwood
Del and Gladys - Wildwood
On August 26th, the 747th Tank Battalion was told that they would not be going off to war. At least not with enemy forces.  They were to remain at Camp Hood for the duration of the war to train the tank destroyer battalions that came through. The tanks were ordered to have the name “SCHOOL TROOPS” painted on them. It was a devastating blow to the tankers. They had just been told that they were the best trained outfit and expecting to be shipping out overseas any day now. New equipment was being readied for deployment. To think that all of what they had learned was just going to be wasted while training others on the home front. At this time, Del was granted a furlough. He made his way back home and took advantage of the nicer climate of the Jersey shore. This was a well-earned break from tank duty in the brutal hot and humid Texas air. He spent his time at the Bradford Family house in West Wildwood, where he relaxed on the beach and strolled the boardwalk, enjoying some quality time with Gladys and Shirley.

Back at Camp Hood, the situation with the battalion had changed. There was a special meeting called to order by the officers to inform the non-commissioned officers that the 747th would no longer be tasked as school troops. Seems the group was told to get the men and equipment ready to move out at the end of September to begin maneuvers in Louisiana. They spent the month  finishing up qualifications for firing the various weapons in preparation for Louisiana. Del sent home a picture (on right) of himself at a rigid stance, aiming his .45 caliber Colt M1911 pistol with his left hand tucked behind his back. As if pointing towards an invisible foe, somewhere just out of range of the camera lens.

With everything packed and ready to go, the tankers loaded the tanks and equipment onto rail cars on September 25th at Camp Hood. The men would travel in nice comfortable passenger coach rail cars. Bob Cadmus of A Company remembered that as they boarded at the platform, a 60-piece band performed in honor of the 747th departing. This rousing send-off was courtesy of the tank destroyers.  There were three separate trains to accommodate the entire battalion. Each was said to be at least three-quarters of a mile in length and pulled by two locomotives. The trains left Camp Hood at 1 P.M., 3 P.M. and 5 P.M. With three men assigned to only two bunks, it made for interesting sleep arrangements. The lucky guy got to have a bed to himself if he chose the top bunk. The other two had to battle it out, cramming into the bottom bunk. Some just settled for sleeping on the floor. This trip took nearly 24 hours as the trains would seemly stop every few miles along the way. As train arrived at Camp Polk near Leesville, Louisiana, the men got right to work, preparing their bivouac and oriented themselves for the upcoming games. It had been raining all day and the ground was a soupy mess. 

On September 29th, the battalion officially began the maneuvers. The Louisiana Maneuvers were a series of exercises designed to evaluate the readiness of U.S. troops and officers commanding them as well as tactics they went by. Two forces ,“Red” and “Blue” began in predetermined areas. Red started from the southern area with the objective of invading the blue territory. The blue force began in the northern portion and moved south to intercept their enemy, driving them back. The two squared off against each other within large portions of north and west-central Louisiana. The 747th was with the “Blue Force," attached to the 3rd Army Provisional Headquarters for administrative purposes and assigned to the VII Corps for tactical training. Tom Amato believed that during this period of training, it was perhaps the best the battalion had ever received. They were on the move almost every night under blackout conditions, getting into position for the next attack on the opposition. Field umpires would inspect individual camps to judge their effectiveness. The tankers had to traverse some rough terrain. The area was loaded with bridges and narrow dirt roadways. Ted Surowiec recalled on one occasion during the maneuvers that his tank was going up a hill with fallen trees covering it. Some stumps were visible, sticking up a few feet off the ground amidst them. The tank climbed over one which straddled the tank in between the tracks. They had no way to move in any direction. Ted said, “A game umpire approached us and marked our tank as destroyed. It seems funny now but it wasn’t then.” It was a strange coincidence that would come back to haunt him later on.

Del mailed a card and a special box to Gladys on October 19th. It was their second anniversary of their wedding. In the box, was a ring with a green gemstone setting. “Love Del 10-18-43,” was written in the top portion of the ring box. It may have been a day late, but was tough to get time to do much of anything personal while involved in the maneuvers. A notable difference with the return address was the three letters before Del’s name had changed. Up to now, it was titled “PVT,” but now it was addressed as “PFC.” He was promoted to Private First Class. The fight between the reds and blues raged on. Scouting, marching, getting “bombed” with sacks of flour dropped from aircraft overhead were just a day a typical day at the office. The days were getting shorter and the nights were noticeably colder. The fall colors were in full bloom. 

There were rumors floating around the battalion. Some heard that they were going to move out to some place called Camp Swift, near Austin, Texas. On November 11th, the verbal order was received that this was to happen as soon as the maneuvers were finished. The maneuvers were ended four days later. This other bit of scuttlebutt was that they would be adding a company of light tanks and a mortar platoon. These rumors were also true. On November 17th the 747th Tank Battalion (Medium) was re-organized to the 747th Tank Battalion. The Battalion Commander, Major Stuart Fries would also get an update. He would get promoted to Lieutenant Colonel.

Del with machine gun
Del with Ted's accordion
The tankers began packing up their equipment and preparing to move out. On November 21, Del sent an early Hallmark Christmas card to Gladys. He also wrote a letter to her saying that the next day, he would be heading to the rail yard to load equipment on the train to go to Camp Swift. They were going to leave on the 23rd. He told Gladys that the night prior, he had gone into Leesville to watch the movie, “Tornado” with some of the boys. “Boy, that was a good show.” He and (James) Cooney didn’t go to Nacogdoches, Texas because they didn’t have the money but were going to visit DeRidder, Louisiana in the afternoon. Del claimed that he wouldn’t get to see Shirley until after the war because they weren’t allowing any more furloughs. He thanked her for sending the box of goodies to him. She would send many care packages to Del during his time in the service. Del had sent pictures to Gladys earlier that were taken in Louisiana. One of which was her “sun-tanned husky darling” holding a .30 caliber machine gun.”It only weighs 60 pounds!” Another picture showed Del playing an accordion that crew mate, Surowiec had brought along with him to camp. Del couldn’t play, but Ted could. He hailed from a musical family and learned to play the instrument as a young boy. His family was from Poland and he loved to perform the quick-tempo Polish music. Ted had borrowed this accordion from his cousin which he would use to entertain for the boys during training. 

It was November 25, 1943 -- Thanksgiving! The boys got their turkey dinner the night prior. On this day, the battalion was busy moving out by train and motorcade to Camp Swift, Texas. Those who chose to travel over the road could expect a cold, uncomfortable ride with 24 men and their duffle bags packed into each truck. There was one perk though, an overnight stop in the outskirts of Houston. The tankers were free to check out what the city had to offer for the evening and be on the road by morning. The convoy would arrive at their new station assignment by the afternoon. It was a welcomed change. From a document titled, 747th Tank Battalion Returns to Civilization:  "After six months of canvas cabanas, chigger assaults and barrages by the elements, the 747th Tank Battalion originally of Camp Bowie, Texas arrived here at Camp Swift, to be quartered in those long-forgotten dwellings called ‘barracks.’ Upon arriving here at Swift, the infirmary has been working night and day on shock cases. The diagnosis proved the cause to be beds, mattresses, hot showers, and those things with real windows in. For the next step in its training, the battalion seems damn glad to be in Swift — after all, they have those new gadgets here — you pull the string and the whole place is illuminated. 'Yes Shorty, you can throw away those candles now, and you won’t need a shovel the first thing in the morning.’ They even say if you look real close, you might chance to discern the tanks themselves breaking out in a sort of relaxed smile."

At Camp Swift, the battalion continued with their training and firing on the various gun ranges. They would go out on 10-mile hikes every other day and a 25-miler each Saturday. They were required to exercise for two hours and drill for an additional two. 

The 747th were not the only residents of Camp Swift. They shared this facility with the 749th Tank Battalion. Additionally, there was a large prisoner of war camp here. Bob Cadmus said of the German prisoners, “They seem happy. They are always laughing and fooling around. They would work on the roads and buildings around the complex.

On December 3rd, Del qualified as a Marksman on the M1911 Pistol with a score of 66. The night marches would proceed under blackout conditions. This helped the tankers become accustomed to driving and bivouacking in the dark. They would also become proficient in stowing and locating needed gear without the need for light.  When away from the comfort of the barracks, the crews would have to either sleep in the tanks or on the ground. They would bundle up in as many layers of clothing on as possible to keep warm during the bone-chilling December nights. Tom Amato remembered that the terrain around Camp Swift was a pine forest. The tankers would cut down small trees and build a fire for warmth. They found that most of the wood was too “green” and refused to burn. One trick to get around this was to dig a hole, throw the logs in, douse the wood with a combination of oil and gasoline, and lastly, light a match! Tom also noted that each payday, the men would carry on with dice games for the next three or four days in hopes to pad their wallet for use during the next available liberty.

Lt. Colonel Fries received alert instructions on December 18th from XVII Corp Command in Brownwood, Texas. He was informed that the 747th Tank Battalion must have their training completed by January 25, 1944 and be ready to move out. The clock was ticking. It seemed that they would get into the war after all.

Del visited the USO in Austin on December 20th. He sent another recording of his voice to his darling daughter, Shirley. He asked how the family was and if her “big tooth” was coming in. Just before ending the recording, he wishing his daughter a "Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.”  Del had sent her a Christmas card a few weeks prior. The cover had a little white deer wearing jingle bells against a green background. Inside, it read, “May Christmas happiness be yours. Daddy” He been planning for she and Gladys to travel to Austin during his upcoming furlough in the new year. 

Del and "Martin"
Christmas Day, 1943 at Camp Swift. That afternoon, Del wrote a letter home to Gladys. “It is Christmas Day, and I’m a long way from home but you and Shirley are here in my heart and I’m thinking of you both and hoping that you have a very Merry Christmas.” Earlier in the day, he had attempted to call her, but the power was out in the area. No one could make long-distance phone calls as a result. Del thought that he might be going to Camp Young in California for ten days of training, but didn’t know for sure if this would happen. He spoke of how his buddy (Isadore) ”Martin” was lucky enough to get a furlough for the holidays. He made a plan to have Martin contact Gladys after he returned home to New York. Del said he would call her later in the week to see if Martin reached out to her. He wanted she and Shirley to come down to Austin with Martin when he returned to Texas. Del asked her to wait for a couple of days in town, until he went on furlough. If Del had money, he would go into Austin to find a place for them to stay. He added that he couldn’t borrow from the other fellows as they also spent all of their money on Christmas presents. It was lonely at Camp Swift. Only a few guys were left in camp that day, but those who remained were treated to a nice turkey dinner. Del asked how Rip was doing and if he got a chance to get home. Rip was the husband of Thelma, Gladys sister. Rip had also been serving in the Army and was awaiting a furlough as well. Del said, “Well maybe if this war is over by next Christmas, I’ll be home, and maybe for good."

The battalion began firing testing on the last few days of the year. New Year’s Day had been spent on the range. Throughout the month, the men would be tested in tactics. On the 5th, the tankers had to traverse a night-time infiltration course, crawling on the ground through barbed wire and machine guns firing off real ammunition over their heads. The sight was terrific with tracer bullets zipping by and explosions lighting up the sky. After this, there were showdown inspections and all of the worn out clothing and equipment had to be turned in. At this time, Gladys and Shirley would finally travel down to Austin to be with Del while he was on furlough.

By January 22nd, Del would return to Camp Swift. The men had to fill out change of address cards to send to family. They would switch to APO (Army Post Office) 9492. This would allow the mail to catch up to them once they finally arrived at their next destination. Overnight, the tankers went out on an exercise during a snowstorm that left seven inches of fresh snow. It made for a cold night of sleeping on the ground. On a couple of days afterwards, the men went out on long hikes. There wasn’t much else they could do. They had no tanks or guns to work with. The guys were getting unruly and wanted to get into the action. Their time would come soon enough.

It was time to move out. On January 29th, the 747th Tank Battalion would load up the tanks onto flatbed rail cars and the men boarded the passenger rail cars. It had taken two separate trains to accommodate this. The first train held Companies “A,” “D” and HQ under the command of Lt. Colonel Fries, while the second was filled with “B,” “C” and the Service Companies helmed by S-3 Captain Heywood. Between 11 A.M. and noon, the trains departed the station, heading through the interior states up to Camp Shanks in New York. During this trip, Ted Surowiec and several of his buddies had volunteered to guard the tanks while en route. They took shifts watching over the equipment from Houston to Louisiana. “It was a mistake,” as Ted recalled. The wind and freezing cold caused him to spend a good deal of this trip inside the tank. 

The trains arrived at the installation on February 1st between 5:30 A.M. and 6 A.M. Camp Shanks was located in Orangeburg, New York and nicknamed, “Last Stop USA." It was known as an embarkation point staging area. If you were going to Shanks, it meant you were going to be heading overseas. Camp was conveniently situated just above the border of New Jersey along the Hudson River with close proximity to New York City. Tom Amato said "it was a home-coming for most of the men." There were restrictions from camp until certain prerequisites for overseas movement were accomplished. The instruction were given over the next few days. It pertained mostly to travel by boat, also precautions and safety measures that need to be taken during such a movement. There was training on transferring from a transport ship to an assault boat by climbing down rope netting. While at Shanks, they received  inoculations for yellow fever and a few others that they had been given all over again. The outfit would march several miles just to keep in shape.

Del, Shirley, Gladys - Feb. 1944
With all the requirement finished, the tankers were free to visit the city. For those from the area, they would call their relatives and have them come pick them up. The men would have to be back at camp early the next morning.. After daily training, which was usually completed by 4 P.M., the tankers took a shower and had the rest of the day to go out. Amato claimed that, “Had the battalion stayed there for more than two or three weeks, half of the outfit would have been down with fatigue!” By February 4th, half of the men were given a short furlough and when they returned, the other half would go. During this period, Del would once again get an opportunity to see his family.


USS Charles Carroll
On the morning of February 8th, the 747th was alerted to report to the Port of Embarkation in New York City. Two days later they were transported by ferry and train to the Stapleton Terminal on Staten Island. Moored at Pier 19 was the USS Charles Carroll (APA-28). The Carroll was a 13,500 ton vessel and carried approximately 1600 men in addition to her own crew.

The men climbed the ramps and went aboard the ship. Ted Surowiec asked his commanding officer what he should do with the accordion he had been carrying along with him. He was told that it might be a good distraction for the men, bring it along to Europe. Ted obliged, but admitted that he didn’t play it much on the voyage. 

By 1:30 P.M., the loading was completed and at 8:29 P.M. the next evening, the convoy moved out of New York Harbor. The convoy met up with ships coming from Boston and were crossing the dangerous, U-boat infested Atlantic Ocean. Convoy UT-8 consisted of twenty eight transport ships, the battleship, USS Nevada which had been resurrected from the Pearl Harbor attack on December 7, 1941, two aircraft carriers, eleven destroyers, and a dozen “Corvette” destroyer escorts. The USS Charles Carroll was the flagship of the group, carrying senior naval officer Commodore Bailey. The Carroll was commanded by Captain Biesmeier and Executive Officer Chism. Lt. Colonel Fries of the 747th Tank Battalion was the troop commander of the ship.


Life aboard the Charles Carrol depended on the occupant. The food was said to be pretty good. You were given 3 meals a day, that is if you weren't sea sick as many of the troops had been. Everyone ate standing up as the tables were fixed in an upright position. The men were assigned to a hold that had bunks stacked five rows high. The bunks were essentially a piece of canvas roped up to a metal frame with roughly a few feet of clearance top and bottom. Those on the upper bunks had to climb the wall to get into their assigned “rack” or bed. Tom Amato said, “If you rolled out of bed, you were in deep shit!” Of course, those on the lower bunks had to worry about the fellows up top getting sick on them. To use the “head” or bathroom, could have made even those with a cast iron stomach feel at least a bit queasy. The toilet looked like a tub with slats straddled across it. With each sway of the ship, the contents of the toilet would slosh back and forth, causing its contents to spill out all over the floor leaving a disgusting mess. At night, the galley looked like a casino with all the card and dice games going on. 

After eleven uneventful days at sea, Convoy UT-8 slipped into the United Kingdom between Northern Ireland and Scotland on the morning of February 22nd. At 11:36 A.M., the USS Carroll dropped anchor in the Firth of Clyde off Gourock, Scotland to await an open port to unload. The next morning, the ship was under way from anchorage, and moored at Berth #2 at the King George V Dock in Glasgow, Scotland at 12:48 P.M. It took a few days of waiting until disembarkation began on the evening of the 25th. The men of the battalion were overjoyed to finally set foot on “terra firma.” Immediately after arrival, the 747th drew their pre-shipped equipment. The battalion was under the U.S. First Army and assigned to the Sixth Armored Group, which were stationed at Fairford, England. 

The tankers began loading their equipment onto rail cars and boarded the coach cars preparing for yet another long day of travel. The trains were noticeably smaller than the American versions. Bob Cadmus noted that each compartment was made to hold only six men and the boxcars, known locally as “goods wagons” were 1/5th the size of the ones at home. Tom Amato remembered the cars were only about 15 to 20 feet long. Just after midnight, the trains set off from Glasgow under command of Lt. Colonel Fries. Companies “B” and “D” were detached and sent off to Stow-on-the-Wold. Blackout curtains covered the windows and the coach lights were dimmed while it was still dark outside. High-stakes poker games kept some of the men occupied, while others just rode in idle bewilderment.

Ted playing accordion
The train traveled south through Scotland and into England, reaching Fairford Station at 5 P.M. and the men filed out of the cars. Representatives from the 6th Armored Group met the 747th commanders at the train station. They were to be billeted at the Palmer Estate. The tankers filed out of the train marched to reach their new home. Ted Surowiec again asked the commanding officer what he should do with the accordion. He was told to bring it along. He would ask the other men to help carry it. “They did, too. We lined up three across in long lines and when I got tired of carrying the instrument I passed it to the man in front of me. I watched that accordion go from me up to the front of my line, down the line on my right and back up the line on my left. I guess those boys liked to hear me play.”

The battalion was quartered on the sprawling grounds of the Palmer Estate (now the Farmor’s School) located approximately 20 miles west of Oxford. The officers and HQ of the 6th Tank Group which included the 746th Tank Battalion, and 747th Tank Battalion were quartered in comfort at the mansion on premises. The enlisted men were relegated to the less lavish accommodations known as Quonset huts. These structures resembled a large barrel cut in half with doors placed on each end. There was electrical lighting, showers and a small coal stove in which to attempt to keep warm. The men slept on cots with straw mattresses and were given additional blankets to keep warm. It was still the middle of winter and plenty cold inside the hut, even with the stove burning. The one thing they did not have were toilets. The tankers would have to get used to using a “honeypot.” These portable latrines actually came in handy for the locals. They would come by each day and take the contents to use as fertilizer on the fields of their farms. 

The 747th was relieved from assignment to the 6th Armored Group on February 29th and assigned to the V Corps under command of Major General Leonard T. Gerow. Also on this day, Del writes a letter home to his wife. He always begins the letters wanting to know how she and his “sweet little daughter” were doing. He noted that she was nineteen months old on that day. He asks her how the kids are as well as her brother, Roscoe. The kids he speaks about are Gladys younger brothers, Linford and Bill. He talks about how the battalion had to clean up all of the camps they were stationed at while in Texas and now starting to clean up England. He muses, “I guess after the war is over, we will be cleaning up Berlin as by then we will know all the ropes about it.” He closes the letter, “I love you honey and think there’s no one like you. Dear you’re my inspiration and nobody can take your place."

In his March 3rd letter to Gladys, Del says the weather is cold and very damp. He tells her that he will be on K.P. (kitchen patrol) duty tomorrow. He had just received a week worth of rations and explains what was included in the box: seven packs of cigarettes, two boxes of matches, two razor blades, one pack of gum, one roll of Lifesavers candy, one package of Tootsie Roll, one chocolate bar, one cake of Luxe Soap, and one package of cookies. He asks Gladys to send more packages to him with goodies like cookies and candy.  Del closes this letter with, ”(I’ll) go to bed and dream of that little girl I left behind me in the good old U.S.A. So darling, till tomorrow night, it’s ‘Good night and dear, never goodbye." To offset the torture of performing K.P. duty on the 4th, Del learned that he would receive a promotion in rank to Technician Fifth Grade (abbreviated as “Tec-5,” or ”T/5”). The rank was addressed as corporal or tech corporal and the pay grade for a Tec-5 was the same as a corporal. Del said he was getting twenty percent more for overseas duty, “that ain’t bad is it?”

It had snowed in Fairford on March 7th, but was quickly melting. Del hadn’t received his pay yet and as a result, did not put in for a pass to go to London. He said in his letter to Gladys that after he was finished writing the letter for this day, he will go over to town and get some sandwiches and cocoa. He explained how everything is blacked out at night and has to walk around by feel. He says it is Washington’s birthday. Clearly it was a special date for him as he notes that three years prior, it was a night “I will never forget as long as I live. If I live long.” He told Pete Zanas that Gladys was asking about him. Pete sent his greeting to her. She had asked about the rest of the fellow as well. Del said he hadn’t seen Cooney or Martin since arriving in England and didn’t know when he would see them again.

It seemed that all the tankers were doing at the time was cleaning up around the camp and going on hikes through the English countryside. On March 8th, Del wrote a letter to Gladys speaking about how the outfit had been taking hikes just about every day since arriving in England. “That’s all they know here is hikes, hikes hikes” Del says. “Almost all of us of the men has sore feet now, including me!” Bob Cadmus said pretty much the same thing in his letters home, “We do nothing here but go on hikes and rake leaves."

The 747th Tank Battalion was assigned to the 3rd Armored Group on March 9th. This group supervised the 741st, 743rd, 745th and 747th Tank Battalions that would ultimately be assigned to V Corps. By the 13th, the battalion was relieved from VIII Corps and assigned to the First Army. Also on this date, they would be attached to the 29th Infantry Division.

Having the afternoon off on March 18th, Del debated on going to a dance held downtown. There was always a good crowd of girls there from the Royal Air Force as their base was located just outside of town. He ultimately passed on going because he wasn’t in the mood. Instead, he wrote to Gladys. He told her the weather there was a little chilly but had been pretty nice out the day before. Del said that he was going to get plenty of sleep as he did the Sunday prior. He asks Gladys to send him a picture of her and of Shirley with her new haircut. “Is it any better than that last haircut I gave her? I wonder!” He had stopped writing, but resumed later that day at 8:45 P.M., “as I had a little business to tend to this afternoon and couldn’t finish.” He said that all but five of the men from HQ Company went to town. The rest sat around the fire talking about the good times they had “before we got this sentence.” He went on to say, “As we were bullshitting, we made a cup of cocoa and boy it sure hit the spot.”

The next day, Del visited Palmer Hall while in Fairford, where he listened to some pre-recorded programs of Jack Benny, Bob Hope, and Hit Parade. “They sure were good, what I heard of them.”  In the evening, he wrote his letter to Gladys, saying “it was a darn nice day, but this morning it rained a little.” He asked if Shirley still went crazy over beer and asked the same of Gladys. He explained that they can’t often get beer in England and when they do, it’s warm “as that’s the way people drink it over here.” The only time they would get it cold was during the winter time.” He asked Gladys to send him a goodie box filled with cookies, candy. “Also send me peanuts as you know that’s my dish.” Besides food, Del asked for a scarf, a lined writing tablet and a radio shipped over to him to help build morale. “Well Shot,”  a nickname Del usually referred to Gladys as in many letters, “you should see my dislocated eyebrow. It sure is coming along swell now as it’s over a month old.” He had been growing a mustache and hoped to send a picture of it to his wife whenever she sent film over to him.

It was March 21st — the first day of spring, but it was still a little chilly in England. Del learned that his name was chosen once again by the Selectees Mothers to have money sent to him. “Gee, you know I’m pretty lucky up there, ain’t I?” He wasn’t sure if he would be able to get the money order though. If this wasn’t possible, Gladys would send it in the mail. Del said he could use the money due to losing $20 in a card game the other night. He read that Mount Ephraim had a black out and that tells her they are always in blackout conditions in England. Gladys has asked how the boys were doing. Del tells her Pete is doing okay and that he (Pete) sends his regards. He hadn’t seen Cooney since being at Camp Swift but he did spot Martin last Saturday. While talking to him, Martin pulled out his cigarette case that had a picture of Gladys in it. Del said about it, “I wonder!”

It was beautiful in England on Saturday, March 25th. Del had the day off. He received a few letters from Gladys and one from her brother, Roscoe. Del was going to get some sleep then go out on the town "and see what’s what.” He dreaded the fact that he might be put on guard duty soon “as it’s near my time. I hope not.” He said when he gets paid next month, he would buy a bike as most of the fellows were getting them.

In letters home to Gladys on March 28th and 29th, Del said that spring had arrived and all the trees were starting to get leaves and the flowers were starting to bloom. “You couldn’t ask for any better weather as we are having.” He asks how it was “back in good old Mount Ephraim.” By the 29th though, the weather turned cold and gloomy again. He had recently gotten a haircut for “One shilling, not bad. Yea!” Del’s hair was finally getting long enough to comb after a year of having to keep it high and tight. In a previous letter, Del asked Gladys to send him a cigarette lighter but now tells her to forget it as he had just purchased one that day. “Well honey, last night me and a couple buddies went over town to a little cafe and had a good little meal” Del said. "We had fried eggs, smashed spuds, bacon, buttered toast and tea.” It was the first time he ate out since arriving in England. He would usually just grab something to eat from the company mess hall. Del talked about an old church in town that was built in 1490, “two years before Columbus discovered our land.” A few of the fellows went inside to have a look and thought it was beautiful. Del said that he would go see it one day. The church he was speaking about is St. Mary the Virgin.

The battalion had orders to move to Artillery Range #2, located about a mile and a half south of Okehampton. At 5:30 A.M. on April 4th, the column moved out and bivouacked in near the town of Thurloxton that evening after marching 35 miles. By 5 P.M. the next day, they completed their move to the range after marching an additional 30 miles. The road conditions were noted to be “good, hard surfaces and the weather, clear.”

The plans for the battalion had changed as soon as they arrived in Okehampton. On April 6th, the tankers moved to a new bivouac area south of Yelverton and spent the week training with the 29th Infantry Division. During this time, some of the officers and men had been pulled away to attend schooling for artillery, waterproofing, and embarkation training in preparation for future operations. By April 12th, the battalion returned to Okehampton. On this day, Company “D” returned to the organization after being billeted at Stow-on-the-Wold since arriving in the United Kingdom. This company had been waiting for their equipment to come in. Company “B” would not rejoin the battalion until May 9th. From April 12th to the 20th, the battalion would train at Artillery Range #2. Indirect firing was done with the tank guns under direct of Major Heywood, Captain Stone from the artillery, and other officers from the battalion who had taken the short artillery course at Okehampton. Direct firing with all guns including small arms, was the schedule for the last few days on the range.

It had been raining off and on for several days while at the range. When Del got the opportunity, he sent letters home. On April 16th, he asked “What’s new up there in good old Mt. Ephraim?” He wanted to know if Gladys’s friend, “Little Thelma” had gotten a letter from one of his buddies, Worley. “I sure hope she wrote this fellow a nice letter as he looks for one from her every day.” His request for items shipped to him included peanuts, hair oil, film for his camera and tubes of shaving cream. Del asked not to send him razor blades as he already gets them in his rations and only shaves twice a week. He also didn’t want Gladys to ship him any more cigarettes. He was getting seven packs a week (also included in the rations) but usually smoked about six packs in that time. To make matters worse, he had collected about 60 packs so far.

Joking with her husband, Gladys had asked in a previous letter if was working on his dance skills in England. His reply, “Yes honey, I’m improving my dancing over here, but where I am now, there isn’t any dances.” She also wanted to know if getting his promotion meant that he would need a larger hat to contain his swelling head. He answered, “Yes honey, since I got Corporal before my name, I had to get a bigger size hat and maybe I have to get a bigger one later.”

On April 17th, Del wrote to Gladys and spoke about how this day was the first time he saw the sun in about two weeks. He said that two days ago, the outfit was up high in the mountains and it was cloudy. Every once in a while, a low hanging cloud would come along for about five minutes and they couldn’t see anything around them. Once it passed though, they could see for miles. Del explained that there was now a seven hour time difference between home and England. It also did not get dark over there until about 10 P.M. and sometimes the fellows were in bed with the sun shining. He received the money order from the Selectees Mothers Club and money from his Aunt Bert, but unfortunately the money was useless in the U.K. 

The rain resumed by April 19th. As Del was writing to Gladys, it was “raining cats and dogs" and a little chilly. The boys were playing blackjack. He tells Gladys that he hadn’t lost any more money since the one card game he lost $20. He actually won a little bit of money back in some later games. “That’s about the only thing we have here is play cards and shoot the sh--." 

He and the rest of the men packed their equipment during the next day and made ready to move out. At 9:30 A.M. on the 21st, the battalion moved out from the range in Okehampton with orders to proceed to H.M.S. Raleigh, a Royal Navy training camp located in Torpoint, near Plymouth where the 29th Infantry Division were stationed. The battalion moved approximately 40 miles southwest to reach the facility. Ted Surowiec and crew travelled in their tank along with the rest of the convoy. “Those steel tracks really tore up the English highways.” The move was completed at 4:30 P.M. The conditions of roads and weather for the day — Roads: good, hard surface (at least until the tanks rode over them). Weather: good. The purpose for the move was to prepare for a “short overseas movement." It was possible the 747th would participate in the invasion rehearsals, but the only company to take part in the exercises at Slapton Sands was Company “B.”

In Del's letter to Gladys dated April 22nd, he told her that he was overjoyed to get six V-mail letter and a package from her. In the box was a scarf and wallet. In one of the letters, he received pictures of Shirley and Gladys. The weather that day was the hottest since he’d felt since being in the U.K. That evening, Del attended a free show called “Texas” and recalls the scenery was just like he remembered.

Del had been one of perhaps only a half dozen guys in the company that were still in camp on the rainy afternoon of April 23rd. After working a half day, Del took in a movie that evening by the name “The Night Ended” (the title may have actually been, “So Ends Our Night”) of which he enjoyed. He thought that may have been the last movie he would get to see in a while. He wrote to Gladys, “Boy honey, I sure love to receive your letters as they make me feel that I’m closer to home.” He said that Worley got a letter from Little Thelma and he was glad to receive it. He says towards the end of this letter, “Well, by the time you receive this, Shirley will be 21 months old. I guess by the time I get to see her again she will be 21 plus 21 months. I guess you and her will meet me at the station and Shirley will have her boyfriend along with her. Or maybe my Son-in-law but let’s hope it’s not that long from now. If I get home for good in three years I will be satisfied.”

On April 25th, the battalion (less “B” Company) moved a short distance in Torpoint from H.M.S. Raleigh to Antony Park Camp #3 on the Antony Estate, a vast property owned by the Carew Family since the mid-16th century. The tankers set up tents and slept on straw mattresses among the oak and beech trees on the grounds of the estate. Aged just five, Sir Richard Carew-Pole remembers them well. The woods were teaming with men and equipment sheltered from aerial reconnaissance beneath a thick canopy of green. He recalls the hubbub of daily activity, the noise and smells, and that they were friendly, even dishing out the odd chocolate bar or stick of gum to well-behaved youngsters. 

All of the tanks were marshaled in a depot, away from camp. The men would keep most of their gear stowed on board the tanks and vehicles, only taking what they needed day to day. They would march several miles each day going to and from the depot when training or guarding the park. Ted Surowiec remembered seeing German planes flying over the area. “We’d hear the planes come in at night, watched as the lights searched for them, and listened as the antiaircraft artillery opened up. I didn’t see any hits.” Ted said that being away from home and not knowing what lay ahead for the men left them nervous and uneasy “Not the best of times, but the food was good.” Tom Amato remembered that the local women would stop by camp to bring tea to the tankers. It was kind gestures like this that let men know their efforts were appreciated. Ted would play his accordion for the boys in camp. “The music lightened our spirits a little and made us feel happy.”

M4 Sherman with wading gear
The crews were instructed to make their tanks waterproof. All welded joints were checked for cracks or openings and reinforced if necessary. A waterproofing material was then applied onto exposed wiring and other vulnerable exterior areas of the tank. This process also involved connecting two tall ducts that rose above the rear of the turret.  The forward duct extended from the air intake for the engine and crew compartment while the rear duct was used to vent exhaust. This equipment was called deep wading gear. It allowed tanks to drive partially or sometimes fully submerged instead of landing straight onto the beach. Once everything was finished, the process was tested by driving the Shermans into nearby wading pools and the crew checked the interior for leaks. Ted Surowiec recalled that it was a strange feeling being closed up in a tank completely submerged in water.

Mail call was fruitful for Del on the 25th. He received letters from his mother, his brother Walt, Gladys and even one from Shirley. He discovered that Walt was being moved to the west coast in preparation for overseas deployment. He was serving with the 866th Engineer Aviation Battalion, Company “B.”  The aviation engineers mission was to build and repair airstrips and facilities therein. Del said to Gladys in his letter that it was a nice sunny day, “Just the kind I like to see.” He had just finished a bowl of chili with kidney beans for supper. All the licorice Gladys had sent him was gone, but still had a box of Black Crows left. He made a request for two cans of peanuts and two tins of either sardines or salmon. Del asked not to have any more cigarettes sent to him; he already had a six carton surplus. He noticed the new camp didn’t have a stove like the previous one. Besides using it to keep warm and cook up rations, Del used to heat up bricks on the stove top and press his pants. His new method of doing this is to lay them flat on the cot and sleep top of them. “There’s always a way in the Army!"

Del had received pictures of Gladys and Shirley in a letter on April 28th. He was going on guard duty that evening but he didn’t have to walk around as he was the corporal of the guard. Del was to take charge of the third relief. He got to sit while the other fellows walked. During his shift, he ran into James Cooney who was the sergeant of the guard. It was the first time he had seen him since coming to England. He asked Gladys in an earlier letter to have a radio shipped to him to use as a morale builder. He now said, ”we can't use them so forget it. It was a good idea.”

Del had completed another day of guard duty on April 31st. He went to see a few movies, “The Male Animal” and “The Heavenly Body.” He thought both were pretty good, but older ones "as the pictures don’t come over here till they are all done showing them there (USA).” He writes Gladys asking her to mail him a pair of half inch thick, size 10 rubber shoe heels. His shoes were getting worn out and if he couldn’t get the replacement heels, he would just throw the shoes away. The previous evening, Del met a sailor that lived in Austin, just a few blocks away from where he and Gladys stayed when she came down during his furlough. The sailor said that he used to be stationed at Central Airport in Camden, near Weber’s Hof Brau. He and Del talked about Camden and different places there. “Maybe it didn’t feel good to meet somebody you don’t know and you could talk about home.” Del received a money order from the Selectees’ Mothers Club but hadn’t got it cashed yet as he didn’t need any money. He told Gladys that he showed off the pictures she had sent him to everybody as he was so proud of them.

The weather in Fairford was already chilly but was about to get colder on May 3rd. Gladys told Del that she was sending him hair oil as his hair had almost grown back. She was also sending rolls of film for his camera. He explained that after the pictures were taken, the film would have to be developed by the Army and then the censoring department would check each photo to make sure it met their criteria. The ones that do not will not be given back to the photographer. Del received his rations for the week. Part of the rations included seven packs of cigarettes. He had been amassing his stock of tobacco. Del was now up to “90 packs of smokes.” The next day, he received more pictures and a letter saying that the next package would be short a can, Shirley had eaten all the peanuts that were meant to be shipped to her father. Del laughed it off with the reply, “well that’s okay by me as anything she wants, you know I give her."

Writing home from Antony Park on May 6th, Del says the weather there is cold. He received package #3 from Gladys. "All the boys went for the gumdrops and it didn’t take long before they disappeared.” Del asked Gladys for more writing paper as he was running out. He ran into some sailors from Philadelphia and one of the mothers ran a house in West Wildwood on the same block as the Bradfords. The sailor said he was talking to a girl down there last summer with a baby. The girl said she lived there. Del showed the sailor the picture of Gladys. The sailor was amazed -- she was the one he was talking to!  Del was happy to hear that Gladys still took Shirley up to the corner to get her malted milk every night.

He put the pictures Gladys sent into his new wallet. “There isn’t any money in it. I’d much rather have them pictures in it then any amount of money.” He talks about a package he sent back to Gladys. “The one you can show to people and say, ‘This is a souvenir that I sent you when I was in England. I will try and send you something from every country I go to if I can.” He also mentions Shirley going “dog-back riding on Teddy’s back.” Teddy was one of the Bradford Family's dogs. Gladys must have stated that she was sending Del something that makes music. He couldn’t figure out what it was. Gladys mentioned at some point later that it was a humatone (nose flute). Maybe he and Ted were trying to start a 747th Tank Battalion band! 

The next day, his letter to Gladys mentioned that he was on guard duty again and noted that a letter that he had sent a while back without a date on it was from April 16th. He explained that he wasn’t allowed to write for two weeks. Del claims the weather was getting a little warmer in England.  Gladys had asked about Cooney and Del told her that he saw him during the past week while on guard duty. Cooney asked Del how the family was doing. Del showed off the pictures of Gladys and Shirley and said that Cooney really enjoyed them.

Del wrote to Gladys on May 9th. He had been on guard duty and was off duty for about another week or so. He received another week worth of rations. He claimed that the weather was cold once again. He requested packages be sent every two weeks instead of each week. He still played blackjack but hadn’t played cards for over a month, as he didn’t have time to spare. Del told Gladys that Martin had returned to the Battalion again but hadn’t been seen. He says he had “C.Q.” or Charge of Quarters again for 24-hours starting at noon, but didn’t mind it as there was nothing to it. He later received camera film and a new pen that Gladys sent. He heard that the famed boxer, Joe Louis was going to visit one of the battalions in the area, but probably not going to be the 747th. Del gave Gladys his request for candy: Black Crows, gummed candy and licorice.

The Head officers of the battalion were cleared to read, “TOP SECRET BIGOT NEPTUNE” on May 11th. These were the plans for “Operation Neptune” or, the seaborne invasion of France. This is more commonly referred to as “D-Day.” They began to study Field Order #1 of 29th Infantry Division, which was issued back on April 21, 1944. The field order was a more exact description of the battalion’s mission  during the invasion, "Operation Overlord." The battalion was to be attached to the 29th Infantry Division and assigned to V Corps, which is part of the First US Army.  

V Corps had the mission of making an attack on the continent of Europe on the beaches located between Port-En-Bessin and Grandcamp, France. This area was designated as “Omaha Beach.” The 1st and 29th Infantry Divisions would make the assault and the 2nd Infantry Division would wait in reserve. The 747th Tank Battalion was to be in the close follow up and in the corps reserve upon landing. The battalion was to be moved from Antony Park Camp to Omaha Beach via 14 LCTs (landing craft tank) of the British Navy. All plans and arrangements had been initiated by the staff prior to briefing. They were assigned to Convoy B-1, Task Force “B” or “Baker” which stood for the back up forces. The LCTs were assigned to Task Group 126. The 747th would use the codename, VANISH for their unit. Communications written via letter and voice used this call sign.

Also on this day, Del hints about a surprise coming sometime around July 1st in a letter to Gladys. He doesn’t let on to any other clues except, “Now don’t think I’m coming home, because it ain’t that.” Six days later, he told Gladys that he wasn't able to speak of much due to military censorship. It had been raining for the past few days but the sun had finally come out.  He had just washed his coveralls and hung them on a tree to dry out. No doubt the rainy days produced endless mud for the tankers to churn through during their training. He mentioned hearing a familiar song, “When My Blue Moon Turns to Gold Again.”

Gladys writes to Del on May 22nd. She didn’t get mail from Del on this day, but says Thelma got 2 letters from Rip as well as her mother with a picture of him (Rip) sitting on the front of a jeep. Gladys hoped to receive some pics of Del soon. She sent the 10th care package to him. It had a 2-pound box of candy, can of peanuts and can of salmon in it. She had intended on adding 2 cans of sardines, but had to take them out as the box weighed just under five pounds without them. She would send them in the next box. She talked about her Brother-in-Law, Ozzie going into the service on Wednesday, as he never got his deferment papers. It was a hot day in Mount Ephraim. Shirley was dressed only in a shirt and diaper. Gladys said the family was going to the shore over the weekend and coming home to work on Monday. She would attend a card party for the Selectees Mothers Club on Friday night. She told Del that Shirley was kissing pictures of her daddy.

The officers of the battalion were briefed about the operation on May 23rd by Lt. Colonel Fries, Major Heywood and Captain Munzer. Major General Charles H. Gerhardt, the commanding general of the 29th Infantry Division made a visit and spoke to the officers. The battalion men would be briefed the next day about the plans covered in the 29th Infantry’s Field Order #1 and subsequent orders by the battalion were covered thoroughly. Due to security measures, all members were restricted to the park area. The equipment of the battalion was complete except for the six 105mm gun M4 tanks assigned to the Assault Gun platoons. In lieu of this shortage, the standard 75mm Sherman M4A3 tanks were issued. All waterproofing, stowage and equipping have been completed in preparation for a short sea voyage.

Del sat down at 9 P.M. on May 29th and wrote to Gladys. He spoke about getting a letter from someone saying that his mother had been struck by a car. He was worried that she was in worse condition than what he was being told. He had just received a goodie package from Gladys containing cookies and writing tablets. That afternoon, Del went to see the Bob Hope film, “Let’s Face It.” Gladys had asked if Martin got promoted. He tells her yes, Martin made Sergeant a few months ago. Martin was no longer in HQ Company, but he had come over to see him. Del speaks about how the fellows are getting all of their hair cut off and how ridiculous they look. The men received full rations with their chow. It included a pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes, matches, two bags of “roll your own” tobacco and a Mars Chocolate Bar. Two days later, Del would get 2 additional cartons of cigarettes. “I now have 117 packages and I don’t know what I’m going to do with them all. I guess smoke them. Yea!"

Each tank crew was ordered to give a name to their tank to use as a quick field identification. The first letter in the name was required to be the same as the company, which for the Surowiec crew was to use “H” for Headquarters Company. They agreed to use the name “Hellzapoppin” and stenciled this name on both sides of the tank. This was the name of a popular Broadway play performing in New York at the time. The tanks were loaded up with ammunition and other necessary battle gear. 

Ted was concerned about the fate of his accordion once again. He knew there was very little room inside of the tank with begin with. Just about every available space on board was occupied with something already. His commander gave him permission to bring it along though. Ted found just the spot to fit the instrument. There was a compartment in the floor of the tank in which his accordion fit perfectly.

A few more packages with canned goods from Gladys made it to Del on June 1st. “It’s just like I ordered. Thanks a million darling.” He speaks about Shirley playing nicely with her baby cousin and that she was not jealous or selfish. She is just what he had always dreamed he wanted. Del hoped maybe next year he would be going down the shore on Sundays to fish with Glady’s father. He had gotten a few editions of the Camden Courier-Post sent to him in England and was keeping up with the events at home, albeit the paper was already a month old by the time it arrived in his possession.

On June 2nd 1944, Del turned 22. Unfortunately, he spent his birthday onboard a Royal Navy ship anchored in the middle of Plymouth Bay. The day prior, he and the battalion had prepared and stowed all of their equipment for movement. After sunset, Hellzapoppin was driven onto an awaiting Squadron “Q” LCT at the Jupiter Point embarkation site on the northern tip of Antony Park Estate. The British vessels were used primarily because they had a considerably larger loading deck than their American counterpart, the LST (landing ship tank). This craft could land on the beach and drop the bow, which acted as a ramp, allowing the vehicles to drive right off. It was essentially a much larger version of the more popular “Higgins Boat.”

741st Tanks on LCT
Four tanks total were loaded on board the craft with one on each corner, making it ride dangerously low in the water.  Surowiec said, "It was so low we could stand along the inside of the barge and touch the water. I was concerned we might sink with all that weight." When the boarding was completed, the LCT pulled away from shore and anchored in Cawsand Bay, making room for the next vessel to load up. All the tank crews could do at this point was wait for the flotilla to get underway. They stayed anchored until 12:30 A.M. on June 4th, when the vessels started moving out into the English Channel. A storm had moved into the area, bringing rain and whipping winds. The seas thrashed the fleet unmercifully. By 10:19 A.M., the Allied commanders agreed to postpone the operation for 24-hours. The forecasters believed there would be a break in the weather for a 36-hour period. The ships returned to Cawsand Bay in Plymouth Harbor by that afternoon. There was an utter sense of relief.

In the opening hours of June 6th, the ships began to move out of the harbor and into the English Channel. Once all the crafts were accounted for, Lieutenant Commander Dunn of LCT Squadron “Q” sent a message to the Commander of Task Group 126-2, “All the children present, washed behind ears and ready for school” to which an immediate reply was forthcoming — “Rah - Rah - Rah!”  They changed course and sailed east along the southern English coast. The tankers were astonished as they passed each harbor, witnessing staggering numbers of Allied vessels joining the group. This operation was going to be a massive undertaking.

An announcement crackled over the ship’s loudspeaker, “Standby for a message from the commander of the Allied Expeditionary Force.” The voice of General Dwight D. Eisenhower delivered a pre-recorded order of the day:
“Soldiers, Sailors, and Airmen of the Allied Expeditionary Force:
You are about to embark upon the Great Crusade, toward which we have striven these many months.
The eyes of the world are upon you. The hopes and prayers of liberty-loving people everywhere march with you.
In company with our brave Allies and brothers-in-arms on other Fronts you will bring about the destruction of the German war machine, the elimination of Nazi tyranny over oppressed peoples of Europe, and security for ourselves in a free world.
Your task will not be an easy one. Your enemy is well trained, well equipped, and battle-hardened. He will fight savagely.
But this is the year 1944. Much has happened since the Nazi triumphs of 1940-41. The United Nations have inflicted upon the Germans great defeats, in open battle, man-to-man. Our air offensive has seriously reduced their strength in the air and their capacity to wage war on the ground. Our Home Fronts have given us an overwhelming superiority in weapons and munitions of war, and placed at our disposal great reserves of trained fighting men. The tide has turned. The free men of the world are marching together to victory.
I have full confidence in your courage, devotion to duty, and skill in battle. We will accept nothing less than full victory.
Good Luck! And let us all beseech the blessing of Almighty God upon this great and noble undertaking.”


The fleet converged on a rendezvous area to the southeast of Isle of Wight, code named: PICCADILLY CIRCUS. The ships were organized into their assigned task groups, formed up into columns, and steered into designated “lanes” as they turned southbound for France. The slow moving LCTs had to make room along the way for many of the larger, faster transports and warships in the convoy to pass. As each craft passed by the tankers, the soldiers on the decks of these hulking ships waved and cheered on their slower comrades. It was said in the Squadron “Q’ journal that it was a stimulating night and did much to raise the morale of the men. 

British LCTs with barrage balloons
Under a moonlit night sky, Ted Surowiec sat atop Hellzapoppin. He and the crew surveyed the vast spectacle of what they were taking part of — the largest seaborne invasion in history of mankind. Thousands of ships in every direction, for as far as the eye could see were churning through the sea with a special sense of purpose. To provide protection to the task force, PT boats patrolled the surface. Beneath the fleet, naval submarines scanned for German U-Boats. Securing the skies above were fighters from the U.S. 9th Air Force. As an added layer of defense, a huge barrage balloon, tethered to each watercraft was towed aloft via a long cable. These were used to thwart strafing and bombing attempts by enemy aircraft. Ted quipped, "It looked like a circus, all these balloons.”

June 6, 1944, “H-Hour” 6:20 A.M. Allied forces began landing on the coast of France from Le Harve to Cherbourg. The 1st and 29th Infantry Divisions were the first waves to go ashore at Omaha. The beach defenses were terrific, consisting of underwater obstacles, hedgehogs, element “C,” tetrahedra, ramps and rails driven into the beach. Obstacles were mined and other mines were placed so as to make a network of coastal defenses. Behind the underwater obstacles were anti-tank ditches, wire entanglements, pill boxes, land mines, and communication trenches which completely lined the coast on which the battalion was to land. The 747th Tank Battalion was lying off shore awaiting orders to land. Its mission in this assault on Hitler's "Festung Europa" (Fortress Europe) was V Corps armored reserve. 

741st & 743rd D-Day Landing Plan
The 741st and 743rd Tank Battalions were assigned to support the 1st Infantry Division and 29th Infantry Divisions respectively. They were scheduled to make the first assault on Omaha Beach, just five minutes before the infantry would land. Each battalion had specialized Duplex Drive or "DD” tanks. These were Sherman M4s equipped with a collapsible waterproof canvas flotation screen connected to the top half of the hull. When the screen was locked in a raised position, gave it the vehicle buoyancy to float. A propeller was attached to each track idler on the rear of the tank which allowed them to move through the water. Unfortunately, they were designed to operate in calm seas. The waves on D-Day were running up to six foot high and sunk 27 of the 741st’s 32 DD tanks before they ever reached the beach. The 743rd were able to land most of their tanks but had no infantry to support them yet and no room to maneuver as the tide was swallowing up the beach. The German 88mm artillery was picking off the tanks with relative ease. By the time the infantry hit the beach, there was little to no tank support available. Approximately 5 hours were required to get a foothold on the beach.

From the deck of the LCT, Ted Surowiec watched as naval warships bombarded the Normandy Coast for what seemed to be hours, "firing shells which whistled over our heads continuously. I could not believe anyone could be alive on shore after such a pounding.” He thought, “This is going to be easy, a piece of cake!” 

Tom Amato remembered the LCTs of the battalion positioned about a thousand yards away from the battleship, USS Texas. The men watched in awe as the 14-inch guns aimed toward the shore. With a thunderous BOOM, the Texas unleashed a cannonade, creating a wall of smoke and flame from each muzzle as the massive projectiles screamed inland. Amato also recalled the destroyer, USS Doyle engaging a concealed German gun emplacement up on a cliff that had been firing on ships in the harbor. The Doyle kept moving in a figure-8 pattern, firing on the target. As the ship would turn, the Germans would pop out and begin shooting at the warship.  He believed that neither the Texas, nor the Doyle neutralized this pesky gun. It was most likely taken out from ground forces.

The LCTs from Squadron “Q” had been awaiting orders to land all day. The craft were already past their assigned disembarkation time. Hy Wagner of HQ Company said, “We steamed toward shore at H hour plus 10” (10 minutes after the initial landings). “A destroyer cut across our bow telling us to hold the tanks back. The beachhead hadn’t yet been secured. So we held off till early dawn.”​ 

Ted Surowiec looked towards the beach through his binoculars.”It seemed everything was on fire; tanks, trucks, everything. We waited in the Channel bobbing up and down with big waves. The navy scuttled a ship offshore to serve as a breaker, but we sat and couldn’t find a place to land amid all the debris and obstacles." The tankers ate, slept, and lived on the tanks waiting to go ashore. "Waiting and looking at the bodies filling the beach and the water’s edge,” Ted said. “The beach was crowded with bodies. I remember seeing the bodies of soldiers, all lined up with their boots sticking straight up; a lot of bodies; our guys. They were lying all over the beach, and some were still floating in the water.” The men on Surowiec’s LCT watched in horror as grappling hooks were thrown into the water to retrieve the floating dead and debris from the landings. “I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.”

The USS Maloy contacted the Squadron “Q” Commander later in the day and told them to anchor out in the channel for the evening. By 2200hrs, all LCTs were anchored 2 1/2 miles off the beach. The first night off the coast afforded the crews little rest. At 11 P.M., it got dark and the group started getting harassed by “Bedcheck Charlie.” This was a German JU-88 that flew over the ships, trying to bomb the American ships in the harbor. Flak from surrounding warships eventually took down one aircraft, but they persisted throughout the night. Gliders were spotted soaring above the ships, heading inland. Late in the evening, the men would see distant flashes coming from the French coast. This was from the intermittent shelling by navy vessels. Also very visible was an LCT burning furiously on the beach.

When daylight broke, the Squadron “Q” Commander scouted an area for the LCTs to go ashore. Using an LCV (Landing Craft, Vehicle), he went in close to the beach and determined that there was little to no opposition offered by the Germans. The largest problems would be to negotiate the underwater obstacles, mines, and the sea itself. The conditions on the English Channel were still rough and with the rapid tide change, time was of the essence. "Finally, a navy cruiser came by and motioned us forward,” Ted Surowiec said. "We received a signal from the beach directing us to a landing spot. I got an uneasy feeling as we got close to the beach. With all the stuff floating around us, bodies, gas masks, gas cans, and other debris littering the water and beach, I really got scared then."

At 7 A.M. on the morning of June 7th (D+1), the 747th Tank Battalion began landing on Omaha Beach between “Dog Red” and “Easy Red,” near the Saint Laurent-sur-Mer draw. The 747th were supposed to be held as armored reserves, but the plan was altered dramatically when Captain Barr with two platoons of his “C” Company landed on the beach. A Major General met him on the beach, gesturing toward Vierville-sur-Mer, and said "That way, and start fighting!”
The beach defenses were not completely wiped out and groups of snipers were fighting just behind the beach. As tanks were unloaded, the intake duct work was removed so the gun turret could turn a full 360 degrees. They were then guided to an alternate transit area near Vierville. The battalion was originally supposed to go to Colleville-sur-Mer but this town was still in the hands of the enemy. Underground mortars and a system of underground exits from the beach were apparent in their defense. The enemy could lay fire on almost any part of the beach due to their pre-arranged gun positions with ranges to targets laid out in detail.

The beach had strips of white tape laid out along the sand by engineers, indicating lanes where minefields had been cleared. If the vehicles and troops followed the tape, they would be safely able to move across the beach and inland. Ted recalled that the first tank off his craft had been following the tape but strayed off the path and hit a mine, destroying the tank. The other tanks had to wait until another area to be cleared of mines before advancing. They moved with the two other tanks through the Vierville draw and into an assembly area at Gruchy, just off the beachhead.

Ted particularly remembered a dead American soldier laying on the ground near the spot where Hellzapoppin was parked. “It appeared he had been shot in the shoulder, had bled badly and maybe died of shock.” Knowing that it would probably be some time before his body would get picked up by graves registration, Ted covered him up with a jacket. 

By the evening of June 7th, the battalion began moving out. Orders had been given earlier in the day to support the 29th Infantry’s 175th Regiment and capture the village of Isigny, a picturesque Norman fishing village near the mouth of the Vire River, nine miles west of Omaha. This was a key place where the forces that came ashore on Utah Beach would cross the river and link up with the troops from Omaha Beach. The tanks and infantry formed two columns, and headed west on the Vierville-sur-Mer-Grandecamp-les-Boins Road to an area near La Cambe.

Lieutenant Thompson's platoon of “C" Company was leading the column as it entered La Cambe on the morning of June 8th. Just outside town, nine British Typhoon fighter-bombers mistook the American column, strung out along the Isigny highway, for Germans. The aircraft bombed, rocketed, and strafed the column mercilessly. Lieutenant Thompson, in the lead tank, fired recognition flares but the aircraft continued their attack. He then dismounted to disperse his tanks with arm signals because his radio was inoperative. At this point anti-tank fire from west of the town struck the column. Lieutenant Thompson's tank was hit once while he was standing in front of it directing it off the road. It was not disabled and continued to maneuver, so when it was headed across the drainage ditch, Lieutenant Thompson moved along side of it to signal the tanks following. A second hit on his tank ricocheted from the turret, crushing his skull. Subsequent hits disabled the tank. This anti-tank fire disabled five tanks, before they succeeded in clearing the road. Meanwhile, the air strike had continued, inflicting twenty casualties. The tanks withdrew to an assembly area east of La Cambe.

The infantry established a line on the farthest advance of the tanks. They dug in and held this line for the balance of the day. Colonel Paul Goode and Lieutenant Colonel Fries, using a light tank, reconnoitered north of the strongpoint for a by-pass route. None was found. South of the: town lay the inundated area. No by-pass route there! The two commanders returned and organized a tank attack to go through the village. The tank retrievers, the only vehicles in the battalion armed with mortars, were to lead the attack, employing smoke to neutralize the enemy anti-tank guns. “A” Company followed. “C” Company was rotated to reserve. The organization for the attack was completed in the late afternoon. At dark the retrievers attacked. They received no anti-tank fire and the tank column broke through to Osmanville. The infantry closed on the tanks there. Reorganizing in their initial formation, the team advanced south on the Isigny-St. Lo Highway toward their objective.

The battalion arrived on the outskirts of Isigny in the late hours of June 8th into the 9th. The road leading into Isigny was discovered to be heavily mined after the battalion lost a tank and a few trucks while advancing. The infantry successfully breached the mine field for the tankers and they entered the town mainly unopposed. Lt. Col. Fries was the first foot soldier in the city and completely unarmed as he had lost his pistol. Fries walked the entire length of the city and then returned to the outskirts to inform the infantry that the city was clear and ready to be occupied.
Surowiec had orders to transport a technician in his tank to Isigny to repair a radio. Perhaps this soldier was sent to fix Lieutenant Thompson’s radio that had failed to work the day prior. The next task for the battalion was to eliminate residual enemy positions. Machine guns and sniper nests were blown as the tanks moved down the street shelling the enemy occupied buildings. Ted said that after delivering the technician, The crew spent the night reconnoitering for the enemy by firing machine gun rounds into nearby suspected German hiding places. He recalled, “I could see Germans troops through my binoculars moving around in the far distance beyond our guns.”
  
The battalion reorganized east of Isigny after taking the town. Orders were received to continue the attack immediately. Their new objective was Moon-sur-Elle, with an intermediate objective of Lison. Before light, the battalion continued the attack towards La Herrennerie, La Foret, Lisbon and La Foteloie. Enemy infantry encountered at La Herrennerie who were quickly repulsed. The battalion moved onto La Foteloie and entered the town at 7 P.M. 

During the march from Isigny to Lison, the tanks of the Assault Gun Platoon were forced to blow the tops out of many houses which contained sniper and machine gun nests. These enemy positions had to be neutralized since the infantry made no attempt to clear the buildings. The battalion secured the ground already taken after arriving at Lison. Roads were covered and all crossings of the Vire River in the vicinity were secured. On the March to Lison, the battalion was brought under artillery fire while refueling and replenishing the supply of ammunition in the vicinity of Bois Germain area.

Most of the battalion moved to Carrefour to be in division reserve beginning on June 10th. The Assault Gun Platoon of HQ Company was on outpost duty from midnight to 7 P.M. with Company “C” at Moon-sur-Elle where an enemy truck with supplies and approximately 50 enemy men were knocked out. The 747th’s Mortar Platoon assisted elements of the 175th Infantry Regiment southwest of Isigny by creating smoke screen on bank of Vire River to enable crossings on rafts and make contact the 101st Airborne to replenish supplies. This area linked up the forces of Omaha and Utah Beaches. For several days following, the only activity most of the battalion had was an occasional patrol in the area. 

In a letter to Del, dated June 13th, Gladys says she hadn’t received a letter from Del in several days. She couldn't wait to get a letter from him written after D-Day, “so I’ll know you’ll be okay.” Her sister, Thelma had just received some newspapers from London that her husband, Rip had mailed home. Just like Gladys though, Thelma hadn’t gotten a letter from her husband either. 

Del's ID Bracelet
Del’s identification bracelet had just gotten shipped that day in first-class mail. She told him, “I hope you like it,” and that he should get it in a couple of weeks. The Selectees Mothers’ Club of Mount Ephraim had also sent something to Del. It was a card with one dollar in it. Being a postal worker, Gladys noticed the wrong APO address on the envelope and changed it.

As Gladys wrote the letter, Shirley was in the room with her. She tells Shirley that she is writing to Daddy. Gladys writes, “Shirley is calling you now. She’s kissing and hugging you.” Gladys reminisced about how she and Del met after hearing some old songs the couple used to listen to while skating at the rink. She closed the letter, “We love you. God bless you, Darling. Your wife and darling daughter, Gladys + Shirley Joyce Sandt."


The following is the last letter Del would send home to Gladys:

7:40 P.M., June 14, 1944. “Somewhere in France.”
Dearest Gladys,

Hiya sweetheart, how are you these fine days and how is our sweet little offspring? In the best of health I hope as this is going to have me the same. Well honey, ain’t much to say here today except I’m okay and still gong strong. Well honey as yet no mail has come in and I don’t think it will for a couple of days yet but don’t worry, it will get here. I guess I’ll get at least one or two packages when it comes in. The last letter that I received from yours the one you wrote on your Mother’s birthday. Did Tillie get the birthday card that I made up for her? I see that it will be her birthday in a couple more days. You know honey, I haven’t gotten the pictures that you sent to me of Jr. By the way, how is he these days? I sure bet he is getting big by his time. You know honey, when we get our mail, I may get them pictures back that I sent in to get developed. Gee, I sure hope so because I’d like to see how they come out. Just as soon as I get them, I’ll send them on home for you. Did you ever go up and have you and Shirley’s pictures taken like you sad you were going to do? I sure hope so and it is on the way every night now. 

How is Shirley making out with her chickens these days? I guess it won’t be long and she will be trying to help the hens lay some eggs. Does she still take you up to get a malted milk every night? Boy she sure did like them when I used to go up there with her. How does she like Sunday School by this time or don’t you send her anymore? Did Oscar hear anymore about going away? I guess he won’t have to go away now as the war will be over soon. I hope!! Well honey we sure have some funny weather over here. First the sunshine and then it looks like rain, then (the) sun shines again and the first thing you know, it’s raining but one thing it’s not so cold here like it was in England as we are going south and as you know, the further south you go, the warmer it gets. How is the weather there in Jersey? It should be pretty nice this time of year. Yea!! 

Well honey, I didn’t write to you yesterday as I didn’t have any time but don’t worry honey, I’ll write every time I get the chance. I wrote a letter to my Mother the other night so I guess tonight if nothing happens, I’ll drop your Mother and Dad a line or two on Vmail. You know the 30th of this month is Pearl’s birthday and the 31st is her wedding anniversary, so drop them a card if you have time, okay? I may make a card up for them if I have time. Now!! Well honey, how’s things coming along up at the office these days? Okay I hope. How do you like your new hours there? I guess it’s okay but I don’t think I’d like to work them few hours on Saturday. How’s Smokie (Gladys’ sister, Thelma) these days? Tell her I’m still waiting for a letter from her. Maybe she did write, I’ll know as soon as the mail comes in. Does she hear anything from Rip? I guess he’s still in England yet but I guess he’ll be coming over here in time. 

Boy, I sure wished I could tell you a little of what’s going on but we can’t tell a thing for a couple of weeks and maybe not even then. Did you ever go up to Aunt Bert’s place like you said you was going to do and also up to see my Mother. Don’t forget what I told you about that. You know honey, we got field rations here to eat and we have to cook them ourself so we can eat anything we feel like it. Last night, I ate at 12:30 in the dark. We got smokes in them and do you know, I smoke them plus a pack of my own in a day. Boy, I never smoke so much or drank so much coffee a I do since we been here in France. Well honey, are you still sending me a package every week like you used to do? If you are, don’t forget to ship a couple of small can goods in every one as they sure will come in handy. All I have left now is the cheese and Spam, but it won’t be left much longer. I guess. Well honey, I guess the kids only got a couple more days of school and I bet they sure are glad of that so they can go down to Wildwood and live. Boy, I sure wish I was there to be going down fishing with the old man but you can tell him I’ll be right with him this time next year. 

Well sweetheart, I guess this is about all for tonight so don’t worry honey. Every chance I get, I’ll have a letter on its way to the one I love and don’t worry about me as everything is just fine and dandy here so tell everybody hello. I love you and Shirley too, so for now it’s goodnight and never goodbye. God bless you both. I love you as always.
Your Husband
Delbert

On the evening of June 15th, 747th Tank Battalion Headquarters received a request from the 29th Infantry Division. They would need a vehicle to take a forward observer up with the infantry to direct artillery fire. A tank from HQ Company was chosen to perform this task -- Ted Surowiec’s crew.

Lt. Louis E. Linsley, Jr.
It had been raining early in the morning of June 16th, but skies were beginning to clear up. It was moderately to partly cloudy with unlimited visibility. The tankers began the day by adding an officer from Battery “A" of the 111th Field Artillery Battalion, named 2nd Lieutenant Louis E. Linsley Jr. into the Sherman. Ted moved into the gunner’s position inside the turret as Linsley would now have command of the tank. 

Linsley’s battalion lost every artillery piece they had while coming ashore on D-Day.  Each 105mm howitzer was loaded onto a DUKW (duck boat) along with fourteen men and their equipment, ammunition and sandbags. Consequently the DUKWs either sunk due to rough seas or from enemy fire while heading to the landing zone. Having no field pieces to operate, he and his battalion took up arms and joined the infantry until replacement guns were procured by June 11th or 12th.

The mission for the crew of Hellzapoppin was to take the lieutenant to points up along the front where he could direct artillery fire to support the 116th Infantry Regiment. They drove along the many hedgerows or ”bocage,” scouting for enemy positions. These tall, earthen barriers covered with shrubs and trees were extremely dangerous to infantrymen and tankers alike. The enemy would often be well hidden on the other side with pre-sighted German machine gun emplacements, armor and artillery batteries. Hellzapoppin would travel through several fruit orchards within the bocage.

Del would stop the tank at various spots where Linsley and Surowiec would dismount and stealthily reconnoiter enemy positions. Consulting his map, the lieutenant would decipher the proper coordinates and return to contact his nearby artillery battery over the tank’s radio. Soon after the call was made, artillery shells could be heard whistling overhead. Linsley would verify that the strike was successful or call in position adjustments if necessary. They boarded the tank and moved on to the next potential target.

Hellzapoppin lumbered down a small dirt farm road near in a wooded area named Bois de Brétel, just south of Couvains, France. Ted informed Linsley that they were ordered by his commanders to stay off of the roads as it provided no means of protection. In a priority message on June 13th from the commanding officer of the battalion, he ordered the crews to take tanks off of the road and into a defilade to cover approaches. The lieutenant overruled this order and the crew continued down the roadway.

Suddenly, Linsley yelled to Del, “Back up and get us off this road!” Surowiec had no idea what was going on. He took a look through the periscope to see what was happening. The event happened so quickly, but it became pretty evident when he saw a white flash appear at the opposite end of the road. The Germans had found them. Del complied with the Lieutenant, stomping on the clutch and shifting the transmission into reverse. Releasing the clutch, the tank lurched backwards. Lt. Linsley called out to his driver to use left steering lever. Del pulled back on the left steering which caused the tracks on the left side of the vehicle (from the driver’s perspective) to slow down while the right ran at full speed. The tank began to veer to the left as it reversed course, attempting to evade the enemy attack. Unable to see what was behind them, the Sherman began climbing up the bank of a hedgerow and onto the trunk of an oak tree. This exposed the vulnerable, less armor plated side to the enemy. The tank was a sitting duck. This situation was similar to what happened to the crew back in Louisiana, only this time there were no umpires to flag them and no resetting. The crew of Hellzapoppin was in serious trouble.

The enemy took aim once again and fired. The Panzerfaust, a German version of the bazooka, was launched with a whoosh and slammed directly into the Sherman tank. Molten metal shrapnel ricocheted throughout the interior, igniting flammable material in the crew compartment. The tank quickly erupted into an inferno. Ted Surowiec calmly recalled, "I remember that I didn’t hear anything. No screaming, no moaning -- Just quiet.”  He felt the jolt from the explosion and the heat as the inside of the tank became engulfed in flames. "I realized that I was on fire and knew I had to get out. I can’t remember any of the boys screaming. I do remember Switka swatting the flames on his body, but he was trapped.” Ted then turned to look at Lieutenant Linsley. "He was dead or unconscious and slumped over in his seat." Surowiec put his right foot on the seat to help push himself out. He attempted to do the same with his left leg but couldn’t move it. “I pulled and pulled. I give it a big yank and it finally flipped out." He mustered enough strength to crawl out from the turret hatch and slide down the front of the Sherman on his belly. 

Once on the ground, Ted laid still. He heard a rustling in the nearby bushes and figured it was the Germans who had just took out Hellzapoppin. They were coming to execute any survivors. Instead, it was the familiar face of Pete Zanas, who had miraculously not been seriously wounded. He managed to exit via an escape hatch in the floor near his seat and assisted Surowiec. The Greek pulled him away from the burning tank and propped him up against a nearby tree. Zanas then went to go find help for his buddy. Ted watched helplessly for hours as his tank became an oven. It began burning violently with jet-like flames and thick smoke shooting out of the turret as the ammunition cooked off. Tragically, Lt. Linsley, Frank Switka and Del sadly did not survive this attack. Also consumed was Ted’s accordion, which had brought the boys of the battalion much joy. 

Ted couldn’t move. He was laying on the ground practically naked as the blast had burned away his clothing. This left him with burns all over his body and a serious leg injury. "There was no bleeding or pain, which had to be a blessing at the time, but my left leg was shattered. I knew I was in trouble when I looked at it. I remember thinking, What a mess I was in”. After three hours, Surowiec heard someone coming. “I heard rustling in the leaves and played dead, but thank God it was an advancing unit of American GI’s.” Ted was administered sulfa powder to his wounds and given a drink of water. One of the men found a blanket and covered him up. A jeep came by and Surowiec was loaded up and sent to a clearing station. Ted looked with astonishment as his buddy Pete Zanas appeared on a stretcher. The Greek had collapsed from exhaustion while searching for help. Zanas took one look at Ted and began weeping. 

Surowiec was promptly evacuated back to the beachhead for medical treatment. His left leg was so badly injured that medics had to amputate it just below the hip. After the procedure, he was laid up in bed at the field hospital at Omaha Beach. A nurse came up to him with a look of concern, asking if he knew what the surgeons had done to him. He did, but decided to have a little fun with her. He acted like he was shocked after glancing under the sheet. He was actually worried, but not about himself. He wondered what his mother would think of all this. “Would she be disappointed in me, thinking me to be less of a person without two good legs?” 

At 9:45 P.M., a report was received by the 747th Tank Battalion Operations Officer, (S-3) Major Frank M. Heywood stating that a HQ Company tank was knocked out while acting as a forward observer for artillery. Two men (Private Switka and T/5 Sandt) were reported missing and one man (Corporal Surowiec) wounded. Pete Zanas was probably not considered as wounded, although he was listed as lightly wounded in action in the morning report and would go to be checked out by the medics. He returned to duty three days later.

Back in Mount Ephraim, Gladys would continue to send letters and packages to Del. She had no idea that her husband been killed. After all, she had just received three letters from Del, dated May 27, 28 and June 1. On June 13th, Gladys mailed Del a bracelet with his name engraved on the front. On the back, Del’s Army Service Number, 32485863 was etched as well as “G.P.S. (Gladys’s initials) and the date, "6-2-1944.” It was meant to be sent earlier so he would get it for his birthday, but there was a delay. Del had made the request to have his serial number included after she had already placed the order. On June 17th, she had sent him the 13th five-pound care package loaded with lots of goodies, including one of his favorites, a bottle of olives. Three days later, four more letters from Del had made their way to Gladys. These were written on May 24, 26, 30 and 31. One of these letters contained a British Pound Note and his most of his monthly pay. Gladys wrote back to him, asking how Pete Zanas was doing and to say hello to the gang. 

On June 24th, a letter showed up from Del. The heading on the letter stated “Somewhere in France, June 12, 1944, 9:30 P.M.” He wasn’t allowed to write about just what he was doing, but it was pretty obvious if one had been following the news. Del asked how Gladys and Shirley were doing and wanted to know “what’s new there in good old Mount Ephraim?” Another care package was shipped over to him.

Gladys wrote in a letter to Del dated July 9th, that she wanted to become a housekeeper once he returned home. She asked if he received his ID bracelet yet and if Worley was still writing to Little Thelma. Two days later, she writes Del, speaking of how she hasn’t gotten any letters from him in 2 weeks. Her boss, Mr. Beaston at the Mt. Ephraim Post Office had a premonition that a letter would come the next day. She hears a song, “You’ll Never Know” on the radio and asks Del if he remembers her singing it to him. She had bought a heart-shaped pin with Del’s name engraved in it. Added to this was a picture of her darling husband. Shirley sees it and urges her mother to pin it on her. Gladys obliged and the youngster proudly began showing it off to everyone she ran into.

In a letter dated July 14th, Gladys mentioned that lots of Mount Ephraim servicemen who were stationed in France had been sending letters to their loved ones, but she still hadn’t received anything yet with the exception of V-mails dated May 27 and 28. She sent him some socks, handkerchiefs, candy, nuts, airmail envelopes and a writing tablet. She had won two packs of Chesterfield cigarettes in a drawing and was going to add them in the next care package. On the 15th, Gladys had going out roller skating but felt lousy because she had been thinking about the times she and Del were at the rink and how much she loved skating with him. Gladys spoke of the time they went bowling and how terrible she was at the game. She hoped Del would teach her how to bowl when he comes home. The letter sent on the 16th stated that she couldn’t wait for the war to be over so Del could be with her once more. “We’ll have plenty to make up for.” She was sad that he would have to miss Shirley’s second birthday. “There’ll only be one thing missing and that’ll be my darling husband but maybe her next birthday he’ll be with us."

By July 19th, it had been 3 weeks since Gladys received new mail from her husband. Del’s mother, Agnes called her on the phone to see if she had heard from him. The last letter either of them had was dated June 14th. She continued to ship care packages to Del. Gladys writes to him, “I got hopes for one tomorrow.” 

The weekend of July 23rd found Gladys at the Bradford Family house in West Wildwood. Knowing how much her "sun-tanned, husky darling" loved to go fishing, she wrote, ”This time next year, I have all the hopes in the world that you’ll be here also. You’ll catch plenty of fish to make up for lost time.” Gladys reminded Del that she hadn’t missed writing to him every single night since February 9th. Finishing up a letter dated July 24th, she said, “I just can’t put into words how much I love you and Shirley. You’re both the two most important people in my life. I don’t know what I ever did without you both before."

Gladys would note while writing a letter on July 26th that it had been 4 long weeks and still no mail from Del. “I’ll get one soon. I just know. You’re just too busy to write.” The next day, she tells him, “Boy honey, you sure must be busy as them tanks sure are playing an important part at present. I can understand why I’m not getting any mail. I guess it’ll be a long time yet before I get a letter.” She went on to say, " I’m certainly glad I have such a wonderful husband. One to be proud of and the sweetest baby this side of heaven. I sure have plenty to be thankful for and I certainly am.” 

A few days later she would receive the Western Union telegram that no family with loved ones serving in the military would ever wish for:

“Mrs. Gladys P. Sandt,
702 Bell Road  Mount Ephraim, New Jersey
The Secretary of War desires me to express his deep regret that your husband Corporal Delbert K. Sandt was killed in action on Sixteen June in France. Letter follows. 
Ulio, The Adjutant General"


Epilogue 

Ted Surowiec was moved off the Omaha Beach field hospital a few days after the attack, and hoisted onto a landing craft. He was being sent back to England for additional medical treatment. After he was stabilized, Ted boarded the Queen Mary to make the return voyage to the United States. He was put in the main ballroom which had been converted into sleeping accommodations with rows of bunk beds, three tiers high. As the ship steamed across the Atlantic Ocean, one of the medical staff removed the bandages from the remains of his left leg. Surowiec said it was, "nothing more than a stump the size of half a football.”

After arriving back in the States, Ted was placed in a hospital in New York City while waiting for the Army to make a determination where he would go for rehabilitation. He and Gladys must have been communicating ever since she got the word of Del’s death. While he was at the hospital, Gladys traveled up to visit him. She was looking for more information about what happened to her husband. Ted recalled, “It was a sad time.” Louis Linsley’s mother, Ruby had also contacted Surowiec by letter. She was inquiring how her son had died. Ted wrote back to Mrs. Linsley, “He died honorably serving his country and that he did not suffer."

The Army would eventually send Ted to Lawson Army Hospital in Chamblee, Georgia for special treatment and recovery. This facility focused on amputee care and other war related injuries. It took many months of convalescence for Ted to physically heal from his burns and wounds sustained in France. As his strength regained, Ted was fitted with a wooden, prosthetic leg. He would have to learn to walk again wearing the new limb. This, as with his healing, would be a process that required long hours of practice, patience and determination. During his stay at the hospital, he received a gift from his buddies in the 747th Tank Battalion. The men of HQ Company pitched in and bought him a new accordion. An attached card read, "To Ted, Best Wishes from Headquarters Company." He ended up giving it to his cousin to replace the one lost in the tank. He had also met a local girl, by the name of Reba. She had volunteered at the hospital to “cheer up the guys.” Ted fell deeply in love with this southern belle. Reba’s regular job had been working in the Bell Aircraft Plant in Marietta, Georgia, building B-29 bombers for the war.  After Surowiec left the hospital, the two eventually married Reba and raised a family in the suburbs of Atlanta, Georgia. Ted worked as a mailroom manager at the Singer Company and Emory University. Ted’s son, Joseph said, “In spite of the handicap, he was probably the best father of all fathers. He could play ball with me and he built a garage in the backyard. He had a good outlook on life.” Ted Surowiec passed away in 2010.

Pete Zanas returned to New York after the war and joined the family business making and selling fur garments. He met a German girl while on occupation duty overseas and brought her back to the States to get married. The marriage would not last long though and shortly thereafter, he dated a girl named Stella. The two eventually married and went on to have four children together.  This marriage too, would also dissolve. Pete would later fall in love with a woman, Florence. The couple would elope and move to Miami, Florida in the early 1960s where he got a job working for the hotels along Miami Beach. The couple would welcome a son born in 1962. Pete would leave the hotel business in 1970 to become a letter carrier for the post office. Two years later he would divorce Florence and eventually married for a fourth time. She was a woman named Holly. Pete’s youngest son, Larry said of his father, “He was a charmer, always joking, laughing and always had a knack for making everyone around him feel great. Even with 4 wives, it was hard for any one of his ex’s or us children to still not like him.”  Peter “The Greek” Zanas passed away in 1992.

Del’s daughter, Shirley recalls going up to Coney Island with her mother for a Zanas Family function. Pete took the kids to Coney Island for the day. This is where Shirley said she rode her first roller coaster. In December of 1944, she would receive a gold necklace and a locket, with an “S” on the front. On the back there was a special engraved message. It read, “Dad’s Buddies Xmas 1944.” Inside of the locket, she kept a picture of her father. The men of HQ Company had taken up a collection to purchase the necklace as well as a porcelain doll for her. Shirley was too young to remember much about her father. She has pictures of her father, the two record messages sent home from Texas and several letters he had written during his time in the Army. In one letter written to her, Del asks if she still stuck her fingers in the butter and licked it. He had apparently taught her to do this as a toddler. To this day, she admits -- she still does. Shirley went on to raise a family of her own. She and her husband, Dan are both retired and live in Washington Township.

Gladys later married Charles Knoedler and raised 4 sons as well as Shirley. Charles passed away in 1958. Gladys would go on to marry two additional times, outliving three of her four husbands. Gladys passed away in 1999. She is buried in between Del and Charles at Locustwood Memorial Park in Cherry Hill.

James J. Cooney was killed in action on August 10, 1944 in Saint Germain de Tallevande, France. He is buried at Brittany American Cemetery in Montjoie Saint Martin, France. 

Arthur G. Worley returned to Kansas City, Missouri after the war. He got married (although not to Little Thelma) and raised a family. It is unknown if he ever wrote back to her. “Worley" passed away in 1987. 

Isadore G. Martin would come back to Brooklyn, New York and then move to Congers, New York. He had been married prior to going into the Army. He and his wife had children and lived their later years in Houston, Texas. “Martin" passed away in 2001.

Linsley and Switka’s remains were never officially identified as they were burned beyond recognition. Remains that possibly are the two soldiers were found and buried at a cemetery in Marigny, France. Perhaps with the DNA testing used now, they could be disinterred and positively identified one of these days. For now, they are listed on the Tablets of the Missing at Normandy American Cemetery. 

In an interview with Lt. Linsley’s commanding officer, Captain Jack R. Wilson confided, "I never did find out until later, that he (Linsley) got into a tank and wanted to get out in front of the infantry to observe fire. Of course, that was a no-no to get in front of the infantry.” He said, “ they didn’t have anyone to protect them.”

Del's remains were removed from the burnt tank and originally buried near Couvains. His official death was determined to be penetrating wounds to the chest and head from a bullet or missile. He was later moved to the U.S. Military Cemetery in La Cambe, France. After the war, the military began moving all the U.S military servicemen out of this cemetery and the option was given to either return them to the United States or the Normandy American Cemetery in Colleville-sur-Mer. The decision was made to bring Del back home. 

His remains were loaded onto an Army transport ship, the USAT John L. McCarley at Cherbourg and returned to the States on April 7, 1948. The ship docked in New York and he was then taken to the Philadelphia Quartermaster Depot, Distribution Center #3, where Graves Registration arranged a military escort detail to travel with the casket from the depot to the burial service. This soldier would most likely have been a corporal from the 747th Tank Battalion. The memorial service was held on Saturday, May 8, 1948 at Foster’s Funeral Home in Audubon, NJ. 

Beginning at 10 A.M., Reverend Horace C. Taylor delivered a solemn mass to an audience of Del’s family, friends and the membership of Mt. Ephraim V.F.W. Post 150. The funeral then proceeded to Locustwood Memorial Park on Route 70 in Cherry Hill, where he was finally laid to rest. 

Delbert Sandt's gravesite - Memorial Day 2019
Del was survived by his wife Gladys, daughter Shirley, mother Agnes, and brothers Russell & Walter. 

Technician Fifth Grade Delbert Kirk Sandt was posthumously awarded the Purple Heart, American Campaign Medal, European-African-Middle Eastern Campaign Medal with Bronze Arrowhead Device, Good Conduct Medal, and the Croix de Guerre with Bronze Palm from French Prime Minister Georges Bidault. This was awarded to the 29th Division and every attached unit for their heroic actions on D-Day.

The following poem was posted in the Courier-Post newspaper on June 2, 1945:

In memory of the 23rd birthday of Corporal Delbert K. Sandt, who was killed in action somewhere in France, June 16, 1944. 

Delbert upon the battlefield
You freely gave your life.
Not one inch of ground did yield
To end this bitter strife.
 You gave up everything you had
Just like the Christ of old.
In years to come,
though dead, you live.
Your story will be told,
And now that you’ve reached Heaven,
Your enemies we forgive.
Abide up there until I come.
You died that we might live.
Sadly missed by your Mom.


Afterword

I can not thank Shirley Dalesandro enough for trusting in me to handle and copy numerous letters, pictures, documents and other mementos of her parents. Especially the fragile vinyl records with Del’s voice on them. I hope this portrays a fuller picture of who Delbert Sandt was.

Joseph Surowiec, thank you for convincing your father to sit down and speak about his service during World War II. Without his story being published, we may have never known the true story of what happened to this tank crew. To read Ted Surowiec’s story, visit: http://www.billcopeland.net/Hellzapoppin.html

Shirley Cadmus, thank you for publishing your father’s letters into the book, “Your Loving Son.” This book was a great view into what was going on with the battalion, on almost a day to day basis. 

The Gaetano “Thomas” Amato interview from the Veterans History Project at the Library of Congress. His interview gave a vivid recollection of the 747th tankers of HQ Company. Particularly those that were inducted from Fort Dix. Please visit: the Gaetano Thomas Amato Collection







May their sacrifice never be forgotten.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

James W. Dye, Jr.

Robert A. Muller