Frederick W. Slater

8th Armored Division The Thundering Herd PERSONAL STORY Invincible Cover Personal Story of: T/Sgt Fredrick W. Slater Co. D, 36th Tank Bn**** Compiled by Frederick W Slater Cover by James Wingate Parr Published by The 36th Tank Battalion Association 1. ACROSS THE ATLANTIC TO ENGLAND 2. THROUGH HOLLAND AND INTO GERMANY 3. BLOODY RHEINBERG 4. ACROSS THE RHINE AND INTO GERMANY AGAIN 5. CLEANING OUT THE RUHR POCKET 6. IN THE HARZ MOUNTAINS 7. THE WAR IN EUROPE ENDS - NORTHEIM - CZECHOSLOVAKIA 1. ACROSS THE ATLANTIC TO ENGLAND After eighteen months of intensive training in Louisiana at Camp Polk, which included routine maneuvers in the mud of the Pelican State and famed "D" Series in eastern Texas, the 8th Armored Division was finally alerted to move to a port of embarkation. Its days of "dry running" over now, the 36th "invincibles" prepared to move out. At long last, this was "it." On the morning of 25 October 1944, the battalion mounted troop cars and Pullmans on the siding at Polk. Shortly thereafter, at 0900, with a band playing, we began the first lap of our journey. The train had left the camp twenty minutes ahead of schedule but made up for that quick departure by being delayed by a bent axle just outside of Leesville. So, from 0900 to 1200 we sat outside of "the Garden City of the Louisiana Highlands" while a detail under Lt. Robert W. Shaw shifted duffle bags to another car. By mid-afternoon, we were rolling steadily along again, passing through Shreveport and then going through Alexandria on the way to New Orleans. We all knew that we were heading for the New York Port of Embarkation because the taxi drivers in Leesville had told us so, but for a moment we doubted their prophecies and envisioned ourselves as sailing from New Orleans, through the Panama Canal and heading for the Pacific. Any ideas such as that were quickly dispelled though as we continued through New Orleans on our way to the north. By now we had become seasoned travelers, writing letters, playing poker, reading or "just plain sleeping." To the click of steel wheels against steel rails, we passed rapidly through time and space in luxurious idleness. On the 26th we poked along through Mobile, Montgomery and Atlanta and the next day proceeded through Washington and Philadelphia. On the morning of 28 October 1944, we arrived at Camp Kilmer, New Jersey. We dismounted into the crisp bright air and marched to the camouflaged barracks which were to be our home for a week. Life at Kilmer was a series of inspections, last minute POM training and visits to New York City. We had usual physical inspection (if you could say "Ah" and didn't have leprosy you were fit for duty) and practiced abandoning ship on the good ship "Rock 'n Rye." Taking advantage of the passes, the men of the 36th, with characteristic gusto, invaded Times Square, appraised it, enjoyed it and --- too soon --- left it. On the evening of 6 November, thoroughly laden with equipment, we marched (we'd marched so much that we thought we were in the ~foot infantry") to the train. With a blanket roll around our necks, duffle bags on our backs, weapons on our shoulders, entrenching tQols, wire. cutters and other equipment dangling from our belts, we boarded the train for the short ride to the ferry slip. Crossing the harbor, we disembarked at Staten Island where we had a ::;ip of coffee and a couple of doughnuts. Next, calling off our names to the Transportation Corps clerk who was checking the passenger list, we trudged up the gangplank of the Marine Devil and were jammed into berths deep in the hold of the converted "Banana Boat." The next twelve days were a seemingly endless procession of meals (for those who could eat), sleep, poker, craps, seasickness, and water. Things we'll never forget about that ocean trip were the long steel alleyways to the mess hall which appropriately enough gained the name of "Puke Alley," the voi