Friday, April 27[1]
Dear Lyd[2],
The news of
the Fall of Verona[3] certainly
rang well in my ears. I’ve became acutely aware of the strategic importance of
most major north Italian, Austrian & Bavarian cities, and as you must know
Verona was the southern terminal of the Brenner pass which means Italy is as
good as cut off from Germany. After the fall of Bologna the Fifth Army really made beautiful
progress. I think I can tell you now that in a nine day stretch I flew 7 times
there when the 15th was acting as a tactical air force in support of
our ground troops. They were some of my most interesting flights. On a recent
flight our pilot got a nasty facial injury which could so easily have been
fatal with an inch or so difference. As it is it wasn’t overly serious but very
painful. We landed at an emergency field in Yugoslavia [4]
and our one night there was quite an experience. American soldiers are still a
novelty of course American M.P.’s were non-existent. A few of us went into the
town &it was quite an experience. I had always thought the Yugoslavians
were like the Italian only more so, darker & even more foreign. The people were
largely fair & blue eyed, the houses more like America because they were
newer & set in yards, and although the city was bombed a lot the people seemed
less dirty & sullen than the Italians. As we were wandering around rather
abstractly, a real old codger called out to us in something resembling American
& it had turned out that some 20 years ago he had been in the States. Being
Amerikanskis we were something of a novelty & a crowd was soon gathered
around us, mostly partisan soldiers. At first glance they looked like limeys
because their uniforms were the same as the British, the British I guess
evidently supplying them that but they all had a red star on their caps. They
were quite impressed by our Colt 45 pistols, which really is quite a weapon,
and we were quite impressed by the heterogeneous collection of pistols they had
but were more impressed by the hand grenades tucked in their belts. None spoke
English & none of us spoke Yugo but I soon found out that several spoke
German, & I was soon surprised how adept I was at making myself understood
in German. I could talk (sic) care of all the important gestures we had and could
indulge in little pleasantries & intricacies of conversation. Two of them
offered to guide us around a bit & were going to take us to a dance but
when we got to the building although the crowd had gathered & musicians
were there it was called off because there was no electricity. Instead they
took us to a little inn or wine cellar that seemed to be a gathering place for
their men in off hours. The wine was very black & weak but they all seemed
quite gay and singing all their own songs. Then they wanted us to sing our
national song, I guess they meant our typically American song, and you’ll be
surprised to know it was the beer barrel polka they had in mind so we sang and
they joined in on the tahrahdeedah dee ayes’s. Altho our G.I.’s are much better
paid, fed & clothed than them they had wonderful spirit & you couldn’t
help feeling they knew what they were fighting for and for them it is something
real & close. They made a good impression on me but I’d be like those
correspondents who know Russia
after one night in Moscow
if I should make conclusions on one night. We hated to leave as early as we did
but we had to get back to the airstrip on a road in a very foreign country
where transportation was uncertain.
There I’ve
written so much I’ve hardly any space left to thank you for the latest box that
arrived – the Tshirts & stationery.
Love,
Bob[5]
[1]
Postmarked 28 April 1945
[2]
Addressed to: Mrs. Walter Smith, 1856 Vista del
Mar, Hollywood 28 Calif. R.B. Richert in lower left hand
corner probably as a censor clearance.
[3] A clipping
with a Northern Italy map inset is included with
the letter and a scan will be added later.
[4] As
Navigator, Robert would have been extremely busy at this point in the emergency.
Under normal circumstances, the pilots have some idea of course and heading,
especially if flying a mission to a familiar target. With the injury to the
pilot, one can imagine the stress in the cockpit as they treated the pilot,
co-pilot struggled to control the plane by himself, and called for directions
to an emergency airport.
[5] Return
address: Lt. R. B. Richert 02071698, 99th B.G. 346 B.S., APO
520 c/c P.M. N.Y.C. Letter is written with jus the two paragraphs but is five
pages, thus doesn’t read as a block of text in the original.
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