Roscoe, Bill

Sharpsville, PA

U.S. Army Air Corps – World War II

On April 8, 1945, Bill Roscoe found himself in the kind of situation where people tend to bargain with God. Like, “Lord, get me out of this and I promise to serve you the rest of my life.”

Bill had already made that commitment when he was much younger, so he made a another one: “Get me out of this and I promise you I will never worry again.”

He was radio operator on a B-17 Flying Fortress when his plane was crippled by anti-aircraft. Instead of bailing out, Bill stayed to help his friend get out of the ball turret gunner’s pod.

The inexperienced crew members were bewildered, afraid to jump. So Bill pushed them out. Failing to count to ten before opening their chutes, they were too close to the plane when a burning wing broke off and threatened to take them all out. The last one to jump, Bill managed the nudge the wing enough for the wind to take it away from the others.

With his chute full of holes, he hit the ground hard, injuring his feet. He was captured by the Gestapo, who marched the prisoners hundreds of miles. They had nothing to eat but bread made from sawdust and potatoes. Prisoners and guards suffered together.

They ended up in Stalag Luft 7A, a prisoner of war camp for airmen. Starvation and severe treatment caused Bill’s weight to drop from 185 to 85 before General Patton’s forces liberated them.

“For ten years after he got out of the service,” said his wife Dee, “Bill was very sick. He was yellow from toxic poisoning. The only thing that pulled him through was Dr. K. W. Bertram, and the Lord.”

At his 90th birthday party in 2005, Bill said that he and Dee had never had an argument. Faithful to the second promise he made to the Lord, he said he lived a no-stress life with a no-stress wife.

He and Dee were also faithful to his promise to serve the Lord. They served as Eucharistic ministers for 20 years, and taught religion for more than twice that long.

Fifty years after the end of the war, Bill was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross for that incident that lasted a few minutes in 1945. But he and Dee valued far more the satisfaction they earned through a lifetime of worry-free service to the Lord, to each other, to their family, and to their community.

Sharpsville, PA

U.S. Army, World War II

What’s a hero? Don Eichelberger says it’s anyone who just does his job when he’s ordered to do it, and doesn’t crawl down into a hole. But men like Eichelberger always apply that to the guy next to him, never to himself.

During 600 days of combat with the Americal Division in the Pacific, crawling into a hole was rarely an option for Eichelberger, unless it was one occupied by enemy soldiers. Starting on the island of Bougainville, he fought as part of a twelve-man reconnaissance squad responsible for going out in search of enemy units.

During November, 1944, his patrol discovered an enemy encampment early in the morning. They called in an infantry unit, and an entire unit of 23 enemy soldiers were killed without a single American casualty. Everyone who participated in the raid was honored with a Bronze Star. According to the citation, “The courage and jungle craft displayed by all members of the patrol is especially meritorious. The careful preparation, skillful execution, and deadly accuracy of fire constitute a masterpiece of jungle fighting.”

After Bougainville, Eichelberger’s recon squad went out on patrols through the torturous jungles of the Philippine islands of Leyte, Cebu, and Negros, sometimes for as long as twenty days. With feet continuously wet from slogging through the jungle, Eichelberger had to be hospitalized for treatment of ulcers on his ankles. He also contracted malaria.

After Negros was considered clear of enemy soldiers, Eichelberger’s unit started amphibious training for what would have been the most devastating and terrifying beach assault ever: the invasion of Japan itself. He is thankful that the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki made that unnecessary.

Eichelberger spent three months in the occupation of Japan, then returned home.

“My welcoming was walking into the house and being embraced by my parents. I didn’t have any bells ringing or parades and what have you.”

What he did have were some tokens of what heroes sometimes get: not only two Bronze Stars, but also a Good Conduct medal, Combat Infantryman Badge, Army Commendation Medal, Armed Forces Achievement Medal, Philippine Liberation Medal (from the Philippine government), Army of Occupation Medal, Presidential Unit Citation, Armed Forces Reserve Medal, Asiatic Pacific Medal with three campaign stars.

So was Don Eichelberger a hero? If you ask him, he’ll tell you no.

But re-read his own definition of a hero, and make up your own mind.

Sharpsville, PA

Army Airborne – World War II

There’s a phrase that John Getway of Sharpsville, PA, never uses: “I think I’ll hang around a while.” He actually did hang around – for three days – 65 feet up in a tree in Holland during World War II. It nearly cost him his life, and only his fortitude and excellent physical conditioning enabled him to recover.

As crazy as it sounds, that means he might owe his life to milk. Not to drinking it, but to carrying it. When he was in high school, he got up very early every morning, seven days a week, and delivered milk for Brookfield Dairy (now Dean’s Dairy).

“We used to deliver milk down as far as Sharon High School. And then they would rush back to Ridge Avenue so I could jump off the truck and go into the high school. The janitor would say, ‘Hurry, John,’ and just as I got into my room he would push the button for the bell. So I was never late.”

He left high school in 1938 to work at the dairy full time – until December, 1941.

“Right after Pearl Harbor five of us decided we would go to into the service,” John said.

He was sent to Fort Bragg, North Carolina, for basic training. That was right at the time the first U.S. Army airborne units were being organized. John decided to become a paratrooper.

The training in jump school was extremely rigorous, but John found himself well prepared for it.

“In airborne training, we would go out and walk, then run. They would stop to let the men smoke. Well, I didn’t smoke. One time I said, ‘Sergeant, can I keep double timing all the way up?’ He said ‘Sure, go ahead.’ I ran way up there and sat down on a rock. When the rest of the troops got there, they tired and sweating. The sergeant came over and asked, ‘How the heck did you do it?’ I told him I peddled milk all the time, jumping off and on the truck, summer and winter.”

John was assigned to the 509th Airborne Regiment at Fort Bragg. From there he started an incredible odyssey with one of the most elite units of the army – jumping from airplanes, fighting enemy soldiers in hand to hand combat, wandering in the desert, and even witnessing the eruption of Mount Vesuvius.

It started in mid-1942 when the 509th departed Fort Bragg to go to England. They trained in Scotland, jumping from British bombers because the American planes hadn’t arrived yet. They were the only paratroopers to jump from only 250 feet, which allows barely enough time for the chute to open.

In November, 1942, the 509th spearheaded the invasion of North Africa.They flew over 1600 miles from England to conduct a parachute assault on Tafraoui Airport in Algeria. A week later they made their second combat jump on the airfield at Youks-Les-Bains near the Tunisian border. During subsequent combat operations, John was wounded in the hand while trying to fend off an enemy soldier’s bayonet.

“All we did was put sulfa drugs on it, and they gave me a tetanus shot. It was four days before they could get me to a hospital to check me out.”

From December 1942 to June 1943, the 509th trained for the invasion of Sicily. John’s company was attached to the 504th Parachute Battalion, part of the 82nd Airborne Division. On July 11, 1943, they took off to for a combat drop onto the beachhead in Sicily.

During that jump John got wounded several times. Again, it was sulfa drugs, tetanus shot, and keep on fighting. In five days the division pushed forward 150 miles and captured 23,000 prisoners.

After fighting through Sicily, the division landed in Italy and fought northward through Naples. On March 18, 1944, John’s unit was bivouacked about a mile from Mount Vesuvius when it erupted.

“They moved us 20 miles away, but you could still see the smoke,” John said.

Shortly after that the 82nd moved back to England to prepare for the invasion of northern Europe. In September, 1944, they made a combat jump into Holland.

“We jumped at night time, and I landed way up in a tree. I hung there for three days and three nights. My canteen and K-rations were on my back, and I couldn’t reach them. Two little boys saw me. They went back and got their family. When they lowered me down, my legs crumbled because I had no circulation in them for three days.”

John was sent to a hospital in England, then to one in Miami. The physical therapy was difficult, but John persisted. He was there for a year and a half recovering from his ordeal. Part of his therapy involved climbing a rope hand over hand. John could do little at first, but he persisted until he could climb all the way to the high ceiling.

When John came back to Sharpsville, he got a job at Steel Fabricators. After a few years he got laid off, but quickly got a job at Sawhill Tube .

John married Ann Gray on May 28, 1955. While raising their family, Ann worked at Sharon Stationery for 20 years, and John worked at Sawhill for 30 years until he retired in 1985.

For many years John and Ann were active in the General Ridgway Chapter of the 82nd Airborne Division Association, in Dayton, Ohio. They went there two or three times a year for various events. They attended as many of the association’s annual conventions as possible, and helped put on three of them.

Since 1986, they have gone to Fort Bragg for the annual 82nd Airborne Division’s annual review. The most memorable moment for John and Ann came in 2002 at the celebration of the 60th anniversary of the airborne. One World War II veteran was selected from each 82nd Airborne unit that fought in that war. John was chosen to represent the 504th. He rode in the review with the veterans, then stood beside the commanding general on the podium as the Division marched by.

Some of the effects of John’s World War II ordeal persist to this day. He freely expresses his appreciation for the one who took good care of him for so many years, until she passed away on March 6, 2012.

“Some women would turn their back on you and walk away” he said. “But anything that happens to me, Ann knew what to do and got everything done. She was just as good as a nurse.”

John and Ann had four children: Stephen (August 1956), Edwin (August 1957), Daniel (March 1959), and Beth (September 1966).

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John Getway passed away on April 11, 2014.

 

James Blose

Sharpsville, PA

Army Air Corps, World War II

Born on August 30, 1918, Jimmy Blose was driven by a restless spirit. He wrote later, “I may have been a much better man had I stayed in Sharpsville, but I know that I never could have been content living there. Something was missing there; I don’t know just what it was.”

Before he reached his 24th birthday, that restless spirit drove Jimmy to a place half the world away, where he vanished for nearly 65 years…. Read more >