WAR STORIES

 

 

Abe Bucksner was the Company Clerk for the 52nd Fighter Group, 15th Air Force

I enlisted in the Air Corps in January 1942 and after basic training I shipped to England. The ship was a large luxury liner but very crowded and I spent my 21st birthday trying to find the mess hall. We left England by sea and arrived in North Africa with the second wave behind the first American soldiers to arrive in a war zone. We lived in barracks that had previously been occupied by French troops. One night as I was playing cards with fellow soldiers, the door to our room opened and my brother walked in. To say I was surprised would be putting it mildly. The last letter from home sort of indicated he had joined the air corps but the mail was very slow so I hadn't heard he had shipped overseas. He had been in town and heard our truck driver call out the name of my outfit so he got aboard.

After following the war across North Africa until we arrived in Tunis and the war was dying down, my friend suggested we head for the front line to find souvenirs. We hitch-hiked toward the front line, being careful not to get too close. We came upon a British gun emplacement so we stopped to talk to the fellows there. They told us they were getting ready to shoot the guns and asked if we would like to participate. Of course we thought that would be great fun and we sat on seats and when the officer dropped his hand, pulled the lever and BOOM. Then we continued to schmooze with the British soldiers when they suddenly dropped to the ground. "Get down" they shouted. "They are shooting back."

My friend looked at me and we suddenly decided we needed to get back to our unit. We felt terrible that we could leave while the other soldiers had to stay and hope the enemy shells wouldn't hit. We hitch hiked back and as night fell we saw a barrage of lights more spectacular than any Fourth of July. We arrived back to our unit happy to be safe and without souvenirs.

Shortly after that Rommel surrendered and we were there when German soldiers were trucked and loaded on ships to be sent to the States. We were almost envious.