George Leidenheimer

I was born October 23rd, 1922 on Frenchman Street in New Orleans, Louisiana. I went to first grade at McDonough 14 on Jefferson Avenue. Mrs. Leckert was the principal and played martial music as we marched up the stairs. On the first day of school, when we were allowed to go out on the schoolyard for the 10:00AM recess, I scaled the seven-foot board fence and went home. It was Monday and Mom was washing clothes. She gave me lunch, red beans and rice of course, and brought me back to school at 1:00, instructing me to stay there! I stayed for two years, and then transferred to Lafayette Grammar School for the 3rd and 4th grades on Carrollton Avenue. Because dad could not pay the rent, ($25.00/month,) we moved to the Irish Channel. I transferred once again and attended Redemptorist Catholic School on Constance Street for the 5th and 6th grades. Interestingly, I learned all the four-letter words that I wasn't supposed to repeat in that Catholic environment!

On a Christmas Eve while I was a student at Redemptorist, Dad went fishing and brought home fish and some small feisty crabs. I took two of those little crabs and placed them in the holy water font at St. Alphonsus Church before midnight mass. My friends and I watched in delight as a lady wearing white gloves dipped her gloved hand in the lavabo and came up with a crab attached. If dad had ever learned that I was the culprit in that escapade, he would have killed me!

Seventh grade found me enrolled at Live Oak Grammar School, where I graduated in 1936. They didn't have an eighth grade so I moved right on to S. J. Peters High School on South Broad Street. It was there that I started playing football at the urging of my Spanish professor, Adrian Martinez. During his college career at Jefferson College, (later Manresa Retreat House,) he had played the quarterback position. I played end for four years and ran track. I would have also played basketball, but mom was sick with the flu for two consecutive years when its practice began. As the oldest child, I had to go home early to take care of mom and my three siblings. I cooked, washed clothes, and cleaned the house until dad arrived home. On Saturdays and vacations, I worked in the H. G. Hill Stores. I earned $2.50 each Saturday for 16 hours work and during summer vacation, I was paid $10.00 per week for 72 hours work. I really wanted to play football for LSU, but the college interested in my football abilities was Southwestern Louisiana Institute in Lafayette. So I didn't go to college. I played for an independent team in New Orleans for $10.00 per game!

So instead of college, I went to work for Hormel Meat Packers as a salesman. When Pearl Harbor was hit, I immediately went to the U.S. Army's recruitment center to volunteer for parachute duty along with a good friend, Emmett Zimmerman. We were called to service on April 14th, 1942. I was sent to Camp Livingston. They wanted to keep me to play on their camp team, but I declined and went on to Camp Walters, near Mineral Wells, Texas.

The first day at Camp Walters, we went on an eight-mile hike. Some of the men came from desk jobs, and tired easily, so I carried their 1903 Springfield rifles. The first sergeant ordered me to "stop acting like a silly schoolgirl" and to give their rifles back. Of course everyone snickered and I was embarrassed. As we pulled into the company street, I asked the sergeant if we got off at noon on Saturday. He stuck his chin out and said, "Yeah. Why?" I told him to meet me at the boxing ring and I'd give him a boxing lesson. (He said that he would, but he failed to show up.) Then I walked back to the company with my "followers" and the company clerk looked at me while he posted something on the bulletin board. I asked him to make up a pass for me to go to town and he said, "You're Leidenheimer, aren't you?" He suggested that I look at the board. Names for Sunday's K.P. were posted and mine was first. I took off after him; he ran into the orderly room and locked the door. I pounded on the door and yelled, "You tell that sergeant that I want to see him." Of course, the sergeant had hauled ass!

At 4:00AM the next day, I reported to the mess hall. The Mess Sergeant asked, "Who's Leidenheimer?" When I responded he told me, "The First Sergeant said to put you on pots and pans." All of the utensils had a Ľ inch crust of black grease on them, but by 6:00PM, the Mess Sergeant told me, "They look like they just came out of the factory!" The following Sunday, I cleaned the pots in a couple of hours and asked the Mess Sergeant what to do next. He replied, "The Sergeant said for you to do the pots and pans, you got them clean again, so come tell me about New Orleans." That's how it went for the next five weeks.
During the week though, I'd get the First Sergeant away from witnesses and insult his mother; ask him if everyone from Georgia was as yellow as he; and other provocative qu4estions. I felt no remorse…he was bigger and heavier than me. Boy, I'd have been surprised if he were a Golden Glove champ.

The next part of my training was Morse Code School. A classmate, Reed, and I climbed over a building and with fake passes, made our way to town. We met some girls, took them to a movie, and like gentlemen, kissed them goodbye and returned to camp. I had the picture included with this summary taken at this time of my training. I sent it home to my mom.

By now I was off to the Parachute School at Fort Benning, Georgia in June 1942.
Our class of 500 guys, including a contingent of Canadians, was the largest ever. The Canadians' major was given the honor of jumping first out of the lead plane. Unfortunately, the following plane clipped the major, hitting between his body and his canopy. He was flipped 100 feet into the air. I saw the indentation where his body hit the ground on Lawson Field. This delayed the jump schedule so several of us volunteered to jump twice on Tuesday to catch up. We thought we were pretty tough! Nowadays, kids make up to one hundred jumps in a day!

Half of our jump class filled up the 505th Parachute Regiment and the other half started the 507th Parachute Regiment. Zimmerman went into the 505th and I went into the mighty 507th. The 507th formed up in the "Alabama Area" which was across the Chattahoochee River from Ft. Benning, about twenty miles from Phoenix City, reportedly the "toughest town in the USA." From there, we moved on to Barksdale Field in Bossier City, Louisiana. We had practice missions there and jumped over the Red River. I was captured and escaped during the maneuvers.

From Barksdale, we boarded a train for Alliance, Nebraska to prepare for a mission in North Africa. The closest city was Denver, Colorado. Alliance Air Field was a great training ground, but I broke my left forearm playing football and was hospitalized for two months. Upon discharge from the hospital the regimental surgeon, Major Vollmar, told me that I could go home on a month's furlough, or take a three day pass to Denver and stay with the 507th. I arrived in Denver on Armistice Day, November r11, 1943, after winning $1000 in a crap game. I went into a bar loaded with about thirty WACs and bought them all a drink. We went bar hopping where I matched up all the WACs with soldiers. Finally only one beauty was left and she was a real pin-up. She posed for war posters. I'd saved her for myself, when she informed me there was only one hour left in her pass. I hailed a cab and rode back to the base with her. We kissed goodbye, the cab was about to pull away, when a cute little blond came running to the cab. After discovering that she wanted to go into town, I invited her to hop in. She had a three-day pass and we had a good time!

When I returned from my Denver trip, there was a letter waiting for me from the girl I'd taken to the movies in Mineral Wells, Texas. She had divorced her lieutenant husband, was working in a defense plant, and had enough money to come live me in Alliance. She had seen my picture in the photographer's window and told him she was my cousin. He gave her my address. That was too close for comfort. Fortunately, we took off for overseas the next day.

We entrained for New York City then boarded the Australian ship, the HMS Strathnaver. It was moored next to the Queen Mary and nearly as big. We endured 21 days of nasty weather crossing the North Atlantic. Every evening we endured a miserable meal of stinking, greasy mutton. The crew was selling us bread for $1.00 per loaf and charging $5.00 for pies. Almost everyone besides me was sick and we were all hungry. One day I borrowed a fatigue jacket without stripes and went down to the galley. A mess sergeant asked me what I was supposed to be doing. I told him that nobody told me to do anything so he suggested that I peel potatoes. As soon as he walked to the other end of the galley, I put a cardboard box on my shoulder and headed through the doorway. He yelled at me and followed. I instructed two of my guys to fake a shoving match in the doorway. One of them fell behind the sergeant and the other pushed him. As I progressed through the second bulkhead, I turned back to see the sergeant's head hit the steel deck. The box contained 4-gallon cans of pork and beans. We devoured two of them immediately. They were delicious! I put the other two cans under my bunk. The next morning, they were gone. Years later, while visiting the third platoon sergeant, Doug Teal, he told me he'd instructed Junior Rogers to steal the pork and beans. I couldn't do anything to Rogers because he had been killed during the Battle of the Bulge. When I fussed at Doug, he said, "You know there's no honor among thieves.

I learned that the Strathnaver was to dock in Liverpool the following day, so late that night; I acquired a crowbar and broke the lock off the galley. While I was breaking the lock one of my guys said, "We're gonna get in trouble." I answered, "What are they going to do, send us into combat?" The irony of this answer was that we were so eager to go into combat against the Germans! It was what we had been preparing for, for the last two years. The real irony was to display itself seven months later when we clashed with the Germans and lost 65% of our regiment in 28 days during the Normandy invasion. The psychiatrist who had interviewed me when I volunteered for parachute duty, said I had a "death wish."

From Liverpool, we transferred to a Liberty ship and crossed over to North Ireland. We then proceeded by rail to the northernmost tip to Portrush, a summer resort. At Portrush, we saved our candy, apples and oranges and hosted a Christmas Eve party for the little Irish kids. Some of the children were six years old and had never eaten an orange. They were so cute with their blond hair, blue eyes, and rosy cheeks. We enjoyed them immensely. Portrush was also close to Bushmill's, the distiller of Irish whiskey. We would take our own quart-sized bottles there and they filled them. It cost about $1.80. We enjoyed that also!
One of the reasons for our being there was to repel the Germans in case they invaded from Germany. Portrush was a summer resort and we occupied vacant buildings that winter. We stuffed hay into mattress covers to make our beds. Northern Ireland is close to the Artic Circle and each room was allotted a ration of coal for heat. We continued to run five miles every morning before breakfast. I'm sure if we hadn't beaten the Germans, we could have out-run them.

We began our combat training there with a three-day exercise in the field, but with only one days food ration. We were to get anything else we needed through our own devices. At first we felt badly about stealing eggs, chickens, and ducks from the Irish farmers, but that guilt was alleviated when we learned they were being reimbursed for their losses. Quite generously it seemed. If we stole one dozen eggs, they reported missing three dozen eggs!
Much of our training was at night by necessity because it was dark from 3:00PM until 9:00AM. One night Company B was pitted against another company from the First Battalion. It was violent. One of our men, Spurlock, bit off his opponent's ear. The opponent then hit Spurlock with a rifle butt, knocking out Spurlock's tooth.