Miller Fliner | December 1944 | 885th Bomb Squadron

LIVING QUARTERS

by Sgt. Miller F. Filener

The month of December saw the members of the Squadron engaged in a fervent struggle to combat the rigors of an Italian winter. Forgotten were the long months on the balmy beaches and sultry shores of North Africa, close to the scented Arabian gardens of Algiers. Here everyone from Air Colonel to wet-eared Air Gunners was confronted with what had been on the mind of the remnants of the ground echelon that had arrived at Brindisi a month before, they had found an area that was bleak at best, and that had few facilities for housing personnel, aside from some barracks which had been seized by early-comers.

After a couple of weeks, however, by dint of concentrated labor and wholesale trash-removal projects, the area had taken on a far more presentable aspect. Complex irrigation systems were dug in the ground, and thus some of the small rivers which flowed through the premises at first were diverted to pits here and there. Pyramidal tents had sprung up in rapid and orderly fashion to solve the housing problem. At first they were merely tents with no peg lines, no wooden floors, no windows. Eventually, however, after the men had made some sort of traffic with local merchants and browse in native grape places, the tents became houses -- well built-up structures with wooden sides and floors, and of course some with modifications like cement floors, radios, etc. Homemade Flammenofen, to serve as gasoline stoves, were built, and though most of them looked like mad Goldberg inventions, they at least radiated enough heat to keep the men warm.

Some ambitious souls, perhaps infatuated with the idea that this was a true return to the Stone Age, hauled in tufa block and constructed entire stone houses, with windows and other conveniences, in the best traditions of the Waldorf. This was looked on as a pioneering practice, however, and was not widely adopted. All in all, these efforts were successful in creating a livable area among the mud and brambles, a task which had defied amateur scientists in the area. This mud had a peculiarly slimy quality which threatened to swallow up dogs, children, and even jeeps without much advance notice, and therefore it was not advisable to walk too far at night without maintaining contact with air-men rescue. Nevertheless, all personnel came through the month safely. No one disappeared totally, and none sank in so deep that he could not be extracted with a crowding hand.

With everyone fairly well armed for the battle against winter, the Squadron was able to function efficiently, and living conditions and general facilities improved with every day. A shower was set up, and though it was both irregular and unaccustomed to maintain 70° water, it helped the purpose, and after a while reached a stage of perfection where it could deliver hot water at least 70% of the time. The barber shop did such a thriving business that an annex was built to handle the overflow crowds. Under the masterful eye of Lt. Popper, an attractive dayroom for enlisted men was built, and from the beginning it was a popular retreat for the men in their off hours. By order of Colonel MacCloskey, carpenters performed a major feat of engineering by raising the roof of an old barn by ten feet, thereby creating a theatre which makes Broadway's best seem shabby by comparison. During the construction of this masterpiece, several men who had endeared themselves particularly to all, by blasts of the cold, were suddenly accorded a hero during every night in a side of the coin. The movies themselves had been culled, for the most part, from the era in which Douglas Fairbanks and Mary Pickford had their popularity, but their antiquity did not daunt the public. The Post Exchange, under the aegis of Lt. Halfer, continued to give thorough and generous service, and towards the end of the month, in order to keep pace with the amount of hardware in the large, spacious hangar quarters, where it now resembles a general store of the Sears & Roebuck variety.

The enlisted men's mess, though it drew enough C-ration and spam to elicit the usual amount of moaning, reached a peak of Christmas day with a dinner that was of the book banquet variety. The men were given cause for joy when, nearing the end-all-season banquet. The chef must have remembered the fact that they were hailed with cheers instead of curses for a change, and looked on for quite a while thereafter as artists and chefs of the Gordon Bleu rather than as mere retailers of Vienna sausage and other G. I. delights. The spirit of the day was brightened by the decorations in the mess-hall, consisting of the customary Christmas trimmings. The mill was soaked with the usual fragrant aroma of turkey and dressing and apple pie, and further enhanced by the efforts of a small ensemble of Italian "musicians" who maintained throughout the meal with a reasonable facsimile of American Jazz of the roaring twenties. The meal itself was an epicure's dream, and men going through the chow-line were hungered down by the weight of their mess-kits long before they reached the end of the line. Formation of the meal required a good hour's preparation followed by an hour's digestion after it was over. With this forceful reminder of our good fortune and of the bountiful nature of the American way of life, the spirit of Christmas was duly preserved and appreciated.

Another facet of this true picture of real enjoyment was in the life of the Squadron during the month -- the deluge of Christmas packages from the home front. These packages arrived in such incredible quantity that stockpiles of food began to appear in tents and barracks, and accordingly morale (which evidently increases in direct ratio to the fullness of the stomach) soared to new heights. As a result of all this, many edibles originally intended to be eaten on or around Christmas were devoured many weeks in advance. Otherwise, it is really hard to see how so many packages could be consumed in so few hours, though a nightly bus to dance helped somewhat in bringing them closer to civilization. Still, there were strong doubts in the minds of most that they were anywhere in civilization at all, for living conditions among the Italians, coupled with their shadowy ideas on sanitation, gave the impression that times had not changed a bit since Roman days. Nevertheless, the Squadron adapted itself cheerfully to the surroundings, and December was looked upon as a month of accomplishment and progress.

Miller Filner December 1944

Veteran Roster

DONATE

VOLUNTEERING