An Unusual Assignment

By Harold "Slim" Rives

 

At the end of World War II the 702nd Tank Battalion "Red Devils" was demobilized and members of the unit assigned to other commends for processing to the United States.  No warning was given.  One day the word came; you are now assigned to so-and-so battalion.  We who had been a family for months did not have time to say goodbye to each other.  I was told to report to a processing center near Ebensee.  My assignment was to a Tank Destroyer Battalion in Ulm, Germany.  Ulm is a beautiful city, boasting one of the finest cathedrals in Christendom.  On the banks of the Danube it would be a great place to spend time to anyone not eager to get back to New Mexico to wife and child.  Every day was boring, boring.    We lived in a German Kaserne, an army-training base. As an officer I had one advantage, my own private room.  It was about the size our walk-in closet, but private.  There was no reveille, no retreat.  Eat when you want, go where you want.  Most time was spent on the banks of the Danube, watching boats and fishermen.  The elapsed time was 3 months, which seemed like years.

 

But now to the unusual assignment.  One morning I was told to report to Battalion Headquarters.  My instructions were to take a 3/4-ton truck, a jeep, 2 drivers, and 2 armed guards.  Report to division headquarters where you will be told what to do.  The Headquarters S-4 section instructed us to load three big wooden crates on the truck with armed guards. "Follow behind in the jeep.  Do not leave the truck and its cargo unattended at anytime".  Off we went to the disembarking port at Le Havre.  Since some high-ranking officers had packed much "loot" to take back to the States I gave no thought to the cargo.  "It is probably paintings, silver, wine?"  Why worry too much.  About halfway to the coast, it was lunchtime and in one of the beautiful French villages we saw an attractive restaurant.  Since I had been given money to feed my crew, we decided to stop, eat, and have a glass or two of wine.  The problem was what to do with the vehicles and the crate.  "Do not leave them unattended at anytime" slid across my mind.  I told the men we could park the vehicles in the shade across the street from the restaurant, where we could watch.  What could happen?  Nothing.

 

After a delicious meal, several glasses of the juice, and a good rest, we mounted up and headed for the ocean.  Reporting to the proper person at our destination, we got a signed receipt for our crates and prepared to drive back to our unit.  A major, who had received our cargo, asked an unusual question.  “Aren't you curious about the boxes?"  "No" I replied.  "It is probably none of our business," thinking about the stories I had heard about illegal loot going Stateside.  "Let me show you," said the Major, taking off the lids with a crowbar.  In the first box was crammed the most $100 bills, American, I had ever seen or ever hoped to see.  In another was packed full of $20s, and in the other $5s.  The money was used pay returning soldiers who were loading on transports.  And, it suddenly hit me - -life in prison, if we had the boxes taken from us while we were swilling French wine.  An unusual assignment.  Luck was with me again!

 

 

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