Our unit, moved from Naples to work with MAAF Headquarters. This move occured on March 15th, 1944. Our troops were pushing forward on all fronts…………. We became very active in setting up pyramidal tents/ air strips, the USO outdoor theater, etc. On one project I recall, we were a small crew of six. We were trucked over to the quarters of Gen. Eaker and we came supplied with picks and shovels. We began digging the dirt, alongside of his office and living quarters. I asked our officer in charge ,”Is this for an air raid shelter?” ” No, he replied, “It’s to store his Italian wine, a Wine Cellar”. I really got upset, but now I realize how naive I was at that period of my life. Commanding officers have a lifestyle of their own ………. 
The photo below is the Summer Palace of the King of Italy. The grounds and park surrounding the area are lovely. So, we had the privelege of touring the area and also visiting the outskirts of Caserta- Vecchia (old). (more to follow)
Archive for December, 2008
Caserta, 1944
Adios to Napoli, 1944.
Our unit was moved to another Engineer group due to changes made by the commanders. As I think about my experience now, 65 years later, I can understand why the present warfare does not have the same structure of warriors and support of backup enngineers and personnel. Currently, we are employing hired citizens as workers within corporations created for the purpose of supporting the soldiers. We were moved into the 815th Engineers, sent to Caserta, Northwest of Naples in farm country and put to work as carpenters to construct housing and facilities for the MAAF HQtrs.
I admit that our time in Naples was really a vacation period. I had lots of free time to walk in the city; visit the Galeria and shops and do some purchasing. We used U.S. Lira printer on paper which was accepted by the merchants. In an art shop, I found an oil painting of an Italian peasant, which I loved. I bought it for a small sum and sent it to Blanche, rolled up, for her to mount in a frame. Somehow, it traveled into Reggie’s hands and now is displayed by Barbara. She treasures it and I’m happy that it still exists in the family. I also purchased a clay sculpture of an elephant, about 4 ft high,red colored, which I sent to Shirley, as a token of never forgetting, (An elephant never forgets). Incidently. We still collect small elephants of glass, clay, etc. and this has been adopted by Barbara and Ellen. Their collection is larger than ours.
Sightseeing from my Vomero apartment was simple and interesting. A ferry was available to ferry us to Sorrento, which had cabins available for day rentals and a lovely beach for swimming. Capri also was nearby but off limits to GIs. Only Officers permitted.
Pompeii was close by and I was fortunate to visit the ancient city, with its dug up display of old homes and also the porno art displayed on the walls of rooms belonging to the rulers of the Roman Empire. This was the summer home for Roman dignitaries and was their playground. Wine and sex was their main activity. An example of the end of a vibrant civilization due to excessive wealth, greed and porn.
The one surprise remembrance for me was to meet with Danny Altshuler. Danny lived in the apartment above us, in our 2 family house. We grew up together, went to the same schools, played ball in the streets and also were socially involved. He had visited with Shirley while I was in the Army. And to meet him in Italy was a thrill, although he was hospitalized,. We were happy to see each other. His problem was Yellow Jaundice. I thought he had been wounded on Anzio Beach. Danny was happy to get out of there. He described the horrible conditions of the GIs who were in foxholes on the beach and could not move up to conquer the surrounding hills that overlooked the beachhead. The Anzio campaign was a total failure. The next time we met was at my wedding.
On March 15, 1944, orders came from AAF Eng Command to move us to 815 Eng. I am listing the 12 other GIs who transferred with me. Possibly some of them may find by blog. Bruno V. Zapor, John Dowling, Anthony Schaeffer,Wilford Boehm, Sam O. Maxcey, Andrew C. Jenkins, Robert Moyer, Sam Rider, William Barlow, Gustave Johnson, Thomas Duffy, Francis Staniszewski and me. I’m seeking contacts. I’ve found two, George Fore and Warren Teets from the 904th Engineers, with whom I am now corresponding.
Naples, Vomero Apt.
This stopover for our unit was temporary. Gen, Eaker was shuffling his staff and Air force. We were awaiting further orders and expected to be transferred to other Eng. Battalions. To keep us busy, we were assigned to act as MP’s in the surrounding area. We did this for several days. On March 15,’44,we received orders to join the 815th Eng. Our unit, about 20, moved out and were stationed close to the MAAF HQtrs.
- Johnson &Irv in Vomero ap’t, facing Mt Vesuvius
Mother earth was upset with the destruction that humans were causing and decided to put on it’s own display. While our troops were advancing into Italy and were stalled in its progress towards Northern Italy, Mt. Vesuvius erupted and put on a display of fireworks that lit up sky. For many days we watched the flow of lava move down the slopes into the townsites below and burying homes, trees, etc in its path. Our engineers were busy clearing up the mess when the lava stopped and the smoke and heat dissipated.
Naples (continued)
After breakfast, Irv decided to scout out the city. He dressed in his suntans, put on his cap and went one floor below to speak to the Brits, stationed below us, for advice and instructions. It was difficult understanding them. The Cockney tongue is really not English. The accent is strange. Maybe Irv’s Brooklynese was strange to them. Anyhow, he learned that there is a cobblestone walk, behind the house that leads downhill into the center of the city. That’s where all the activity is. The Galleria is on Via Roma and the railroad station is there, plus the Funicular is available, to descend into the center or bring you up to the Vomero area.
He was ready for his sight-seeing adventure. Armed with his camera and a small Italian dictionary, he proceeded down the walk , which was steep and lengthy. He descended into a busy area, with people rushing to work. A railway station was nearby and it reminded him of Grand Central Station. Upon entering the station, he saw a barber shop and decided to get a haircut and rest awhile. He was welcomed at once and the barber said “Bon Giorno” and waved him to the chair. Irv was seated and while the barber prepared him for the haircut he started talking in Italian and broken English. “Where you from?”, Irv replied. “America.” ” Si,Si” he said, “But, Donde en U.S”. Irv replied, “Brooklyn, Nueva York”. Hearing this, the barber got so excited, he almost dropped the scissors. ‘Brookleen, Brookleen, I have coozeen in Brookleen”. With this bonding connection between them, he became garrulous and friendly and treated Irv like a family member. He gave him a nice trim, brushed off his clothes, and smiled broadly, while placing a mirror behind his head to show off his work. Irv thanked him and said “Cuanto costa”. And he replied “Niente”. Irv objected, but he insisted, “Brookleen boy, no pay” And with that he escorted Irv to the door and said. “arriva derche, ciao”.
Exiting the door, Irv saw a shoe-shine setup of 3 chairs, black leather covered, with metal foot-rests and an available boy looking for business. “Great idea”, Irv thought, “I haven’t had a good shine for months”. There were three empty chairs and Irv chose to sit in the center. While the young boy was working, Irv was reading his Italian language pocket dictionary. Irv heard him say “Buon Giorno, Signorina” he looked up and saw a young lady, maybe close to 30+, he assumed, positioning herself in a chair on his right. She chatted with the boy for a short interval, probably a regular customer, Irv thought. Also very pretty and shapely..The boy returned to Irv’s shoes and the woman turned her head towards Irv and noticing the open language book asked him “Parlate Italiano?, Irv replied,:”Un Poco”, He had no idea if he spoke Italian or Spanish. But she understood and started to talk to Irv in partial English, some Spanish and of course Italian. They got along pretty well and actually taught each other , Irv saying English words and she translating in Italian and vice-versa, Irv instructing her in English. However, she was more advanced in languages than Irv and she did most of the talking. They had a pleasant meeting and when Irv’s shoes were done and he was ready to leave, she held his arm on the chair and asked that he wait until her shoes were done and that they continue talking.
Irv was a good listener and nodded understandingly while she spoke a mixture of Italian, French and English. She was on her way to work nearby, in a hotel as a hostess. She gave birth to a child a few weeks ago and left her child with her mother. Her shoes were finished and we stepped down. I asked for the charge, but she turned to the shoeshine boy and insisted that she pay. Irv said “No, please, I pay”. Bur the boy listened to her, when she spoke to him in Italian “Americano, soldat, yo pagare”, or words to that effect. After this transaction, she (Angie) offered to point out the sites if I would walk with her to the hotel.
As they exited the station, she held him gently under his arm and pointed out the sites. They walked to the end of the plaza toward her hotel on the left and indicated the entrance to the elegant Galeria stores and shops directly ahead and pointed to the Funicular entrance way over towards the right. Irv was happy to get these directions and thanked her profusely for the information. Angie smiled pleasantly and said “I happy for you”, while squeezing his arm. We arrived at the hotel, which was off the main road in a small alleyway. It was a small building and on the wall alongside of the entrance door a sign bearing the words, “British Establishment, for English Soldiers only”. When Irv saw this and saw a few Britons standing nearby observing him with Angie, he stopped and was ready to say good-bye. She said “no, no” and opened the door and pulled him in, saying “Venez avec mio” in her mixed language. “You are con mio”.
At this moment an elderly Italian woman saw us and she dashed over to confront Angie. She spoke in Italian or Napolitan the Naples dialect which northern Itaians could not understand, so surely I had no idea what the heated discussion was all about. Irv thought Angie was trying to convince her to allow me to go into her room, but the lady objected. I was not English therefore not permitted to enter. Irv understood the problem and to solve the problem, he told Angie that he was late for an appointment with his officer and needed to rush back to his quarters. Irv kissed her on the cheek, thanked her for her companionship and left. He stopped to talk to three British soldiers standing alongside the entrance and asked them “What kind of establishment is this, solely for British soldiers.” ” It’s a whorehouse, buddy, supervised by the Medics and sponsored by our Army Officers.” This was a total surprise to him and Irv wondered, while he walked to the Funicula what part Angie played in this establishment. And what would have happened if he stayed.
The walk to the Funicula was short, about ten minutes and the railcar was waiting for him. When he entered. he was reaching into his pocket to come up with a Lira to drop into the entry cache, when the conductor covered the opening with his hand and said ” American Soldat, No Pagare”. So, once again Irv got a free service. He smiled to himself, while riding uphill, A free haircut from a benevolant barber, a free shoeshine from a happy hostess and a free trip home from a courteous conductor. Not a bad start in Sunny Italy. Naples is really Bellisimo.
