My Honor Flight Read Free Page B

a great story.  But there was a lot that happened other than that
battle.  To really understand Buzz Company, and how we were more than just a
bunch of guys fighting Germans, you have to know the story from the beginning. 
So I’m going to tell you about our time in Europe from start to finish.
    Buzz Company
didn’t just come together all at once.  We weren’t pre-assigned to the company.  During the Allies’
preparation for the invasion, there was a ton of logistics that had to be
handled.  Remember that a million men were involved with D-Day.  A million
men!  So things shifted around a lot.
    We were stationed at a
camp in England.  It was just a farm field with tents and lots of big simple
buildings.  Hundreds of men were there—maybe thousands.  Command gave us
additional training, outfitted us, and assigned us to companies.  They were
working on the battle plans for D-Day, so they were somehow mapping out which
companies went where. 
    We in Buzz
Company were called mutts back then—Brass assembled us out of small groups from
several different areas.  This was a lot different than most companies, because
most of the companies were assembled in the States and then they came over
together.  But Buzz Company wasn't like that.  It was just the way the
logistics worked out. 
    But in
training camp, we were the red-headed stepchildren.  People called us “the
Leftovers” or “the Liberties.”  I didn’t understand the “Liberties” name.  I
thought maybe it had something to do with having some company members from New
York City.  But Morelli clued us in.  There’s a sign on the Statue of Liberty
that says “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses...”  So the other
companies weren’t being complimentary.  They were saying that we were the
rejects from all the other companies.  That really pissed us off. 
    We had only been in camp
for a week or so.  I didn’t really know many of the guys.  Me and Petey
Anderson went to basic training together back home, so we stayed pretty close.  He was from Michigan too—Battle Creek.  Back
then I was kind of timid.  I didn’t like to talk much, and I usually let other
folks lead.  I just didn’t have any experience at it and didn’t really have any
desire.  Hell, I was only eighteen years old.  I learned a lot just by listening
and watching everything around me.  Petey used to razz me pretty good about
being so quiet. 
    Every evening, we had
some downtime in the mess hall after the day’s drills.  We couldn’t leave the
camp, and there wasn’t much to do.  We played cards all the time.  There were lots
of tables, and groups played different games.
    I was a really good card
player.  I liked Hearts and Pitch, and I could hold my own at poker.  Petey and
I wandered around the hall, pausing to watch games.  I imagine there were about
a hundred men in the hall, and I recognized five or ten from our platoon. 
    We watched a few minutes
at one table because there was some excitement.  A guy
from Buzz Company named Harry Trumbull was hauling in some serious winnings. 
He was from somewhere back East, but I don’t remember where exactly. I want to
say Maryland.  Trumbull was kind of a strange guy.  He was real quiet—probably
the quietest guy in Buzz Company.  See, I was quiet because of inexperience. 
Trumbull seemed to be turned inward, like he was more interested in his
thoughts than in other people.  He was real small.  Skinny, short, real puny. 
I remember we used to give him a hard time when we had to move on foot.  It
didn’t look possible that such a puny little guy could carry so much gear.  But
he handled it somehow. 
    Trumbull was
on a streak with seven-card stud, and you could just see his eyes ticking off
cards as he saw them on the table.  He could really count cards!  There was
some asshole from another company playing at the table.  He was fat and he smoked
cigarettes constantly.  He had a big