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Posted on 09/26/2003 3:57:09 AM PDT by snippy_about_it
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 are acknowledged, affirmed and commemorated.
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U.S. Army Camps in the Le Havre Area  After the Allies secured the French harbor of Le Havre (on the eastern side of the Bay of the Seine, opposite Cherbourg, as in the modern map view of Northern France below), the Americans began ringing the city with camps that served as staging areas for new troops arriving in the ETO. Most of the camps were located between Le Havre and Rouen. [They also constructed the so-called "City Camps" around the city of Reims; these camps served as assembly areas for units about to enter combat. And there were additional embarkation camps in Southern France, north of Marseilles, and, of course, Camp Tophat near Antwerp, Belgium.]  The wartime plan was for incoming units to first pass through staging camps on their way to the assembly areas, and then to the front. The staging-area camps were named after various brands of American cigarettes; the assembly area camps were named after American cities. The names of cigarettes and cities were chosen for two reasons: First, and primarily, for security. Referring to the camps without an indication of their geographical location went a long way to ensuring that the enemy would not know precisely where they were. Anybody eavesdropping or listening to radio traffic would think that cigarettes were being discussed or the camp was stateside, especially regarding the city camps. Secondly, there was a subtle psychological reason, the premise being that troops heading into battle wouldn't mind staying at a place where cigarettes must be plentiful and troops about to depart for combat would be somehow comforted in places with familiar names of cities back home (Camp Atlanta, Camp Baltimore, Camp New York, and Camp Pittsburgh, among others). (I doubt if the GIs heading into Europe were taken in by any of that cigarette and city mumbo-jumbo!) By war's end, however, all of the cigarette and city camps were devoted to departees. Many processed liberated American POWs (Prisoners of War) and some even held German POWs for a while.  The city of Le Havre had fallen on September 12, 1944, but because of the persistence of the German defense and the ferocity of the Allied air assault, much of it was destroyed, including the world-class harbor facilities so coveted by the British and Americans. After sustaining heavy bombing throughout the war — between 130 and 150 air raids had been launched against the city — the town center was completely destroyed in the span of just four hours on 5/6 September 1944, in routine "carpet bombing" operations carried out by the Royal Air Force (RAF).  The necessity of liberating this great port on the north bank of the River Seine, in order to provide the necessary supplies for the Allied troops which were progressing north (Paris was liberated on 25 August), prompted General Montgomery to give the order for this large-scale attack, which made Le Havre the most severely damaged city in France. In the meantime, the Germans, in order to prevent the Allies from using the port, chose to destroy all of the port facilities before evacuating the city: 17 kilometers of quaysides were thus destroyed, leaving only one crane in working condition.  All in all, the war took the following toll: 5,000 people were killed, 12,500 buildings were destroyed, 80,000 people were left homeless; the population lost all tangible traces of its history. A few terrible words proved enough to express the feeling of the city's population in the face of this wasteland, which spread out over almost two kilometres, all the way to the sea front: "You could see as far as the sea!"  Considering that Cherbourg's harbor facilities were slowly being restored after being demolished by the Germans prior to surrendering the port, most of the Allies' men and materiel were being landed directly on the Normandy beaches and ferried inland, initially to be injected directly into combat and later to be sent to staging areas for placement.  The British had liberated the city, rested there for just a few days, and then continued their pursuit of the retreating Germans. The Americans arrived next, who desired to convert the harbor into a powerful logistical base from which to supply their armies with men and materiél. As they moved further and further from the Normandy beaches, Le Havre seemed ideally situated to feed the assault across Northern France.  The Americans, as they had done in Cherbourg, began to restore the harbor facilities, of which nearly 90% had been destroyed by the Germans, first by increasing the depth of the channel through which ships entered and then the general water level by prodigious dredging in the dock areas.  The XVIth Port Command also constructed dozens of ramps to facilitate the easy shuttling of personnel and supplies from ship to shore, since the city's beautiful quays were unusable by U.S. Quartermaster Corps standards since they were too high above the water. The Americans were practical and many physical changes were necessary to ease the transfer of supplies from ship to amphibious vehicles (such as LCAs and DUKWs) to the warehouses and storage areas where trucks (mostly operated under the auspices of the famous "Red Ball Express") would load up.  Just as the concept of "hards" (which resembled sloping car parks that led directly into the water) had transformed dozens of British harbors prior to D-Day (and expedited the ferrying of troops from shore to large landing ships via assault craft), Le Havre's waterfront suddenly saw the construction of similar ramps to speed the delivery of spare parts and spare GIs to the mainland.  The men who disembarked in the harbor were ferried immediately to the Cigarette Camps, the hastily erected conglomerations of tents and wooden huts that rose up in the forests and fields to the east and southeast of the city.  There was Camp Herbert Tareyton, located in the Forest of Montgeon within the city limits, with a capacity of 16,400 men.  Camp Wings, with a capacity of 2,250 men, was situated — somewhat appropriately — on the grounds of the Blaville Aerodrome.  At Sanvic, 2,000 men called Camp Home Run home;  at Gainneville, Camp Philip Morris held 35,000 men;  and at Etretat, Camp Pall Mall provided rather soggy billets for 7,700 men.  But these were not the largest, or even the busiest, camps. That distinction goes to the "Big Three" — Camp Lucky Strike, located between Cany and Saint-Valery (capacity 58,000); Camp Old Gold, at Ourville (capacity 35,000); and Camp Twenty Grand, at Duclair (capacity 20,000).  It is estimated that nearly three million American troops either entered or left Europe through Le Havre, which led to it becoming known as the "Gateway to America" in 1945-46.  In late 1944 these camps were rather primitive places, usually sprawling tent cities characterized by a sense of transience, with little if any conveniences. These "canvas" camps were at the mercy of the weather that was particular to Northern Europe in the Fall and Winter of 1944-45, and many U. S. veterans who spent time at any of them before the onset of the Battle of the Bulge and prior to being shuttled forward recall nothing but cold rain and colder mud, and, of course, snow. Trenchfoot ran rampant. So did the flu.  The camps, located in what the Army designated the "Red Horse" staging area, were, as noted, named for American cigarettes, which were fast becoming a universal currency in the ETO. Soon, GIs were cursing places called Camp Chesterfield and Camp Lucky Strike. And there was Camp Old Gold too, and Philip Morris, Pall Mall, Herbert Tareyton, Wings, Home Run, and Twenty Grand.  They'd cross the channel in some LST or an even tinier tub, perhaps an LCI, spend a few days in what must have seemed like a hell hole, and then entrain to the front in boxcars known as "40 and 8s" (so called for the French designation "40 hommes et 8 cheveaux," which means the boxcars had a capacity of 40 men or eight horses;)or in trucks. The camps were also known as "pneumonia holes," "repple-depples," or "Repo Depots" (denoting Replacement Depots, also spelled as Repo Depos). (WW II movie buffs will recall that the opening scenes of WIlliam Wellmann's Battleground evoke the atmosphere at these camps pretty accurately.)  The camp sites first had military designations like B-19 and in the fall and winter of 1944 were not more than snow-covered patches of France on top of which squad tents had been erected. The following account (culled and condensed from the experiences of many units that were there) of the changes they saw at Camp Lucky Strike between their arrival in open trucks in late 1944 and their departure the following spring shows how these camps evolved:  "New arrivals were cold, tired, and hungry, but there was work to be done before they could get some shut-eye. They had to assemble their own cots and set up stoves and pick up fuel and haul it back. (There was no room service!) The heat from the stoves barely heated the tents and seemed only effective at thawing the frozen dirt floors so by morning the cots had settled into a good four inches of mud. Soon gravel was available to put down and the men hauled it back in pails, steel helmets, and any other container that could be found. The paths leading through the rows of tents were also graveled and the situation was beginning to improve. After a few months, most of the tents had wooden floors, doors, shelves, and cabinets. A softball diamond, as well as volleyball and basketball courts, had been constructed. Day room and theater tents had been set up. Soon resident units were printing their own newspapers. And the whole place was wired for electricity. Twenty-four hour passes were available to Le Havre, Rouen, Fecamp, and Yvetot. Since bathing facilities at camp were nonexistent, one of the first places visited by men on pass was the Red Cross shower room. Perhaps the next most popular spot was the Hotel Metropole in Rouen, where for a price just about anything could be obtained. It was also while on pass that most of the men had their first experiences with French wines, cognac, calvados, and benedictine."  "There was a sign at Lucky Strike, prominently displayed, that in no uncertain terms stated that 'personnel being processed through this camp were entitled to have one souvenir pistol in their possession, but only one. Anyone found to have more than one will be court marshaled and given a sentence of six months hard labor in the European Theater of Operations!' There were pyramidal tents pitched on platforms and outside each tent was a large hogshead full of water to be used in case of fire. Before we had been in the camp more than an hour or so, these barrels were overflowing and by evening you could clearly see that they were half full of all sorts of side arms. If you'd ever been there, many GIs agree that you would have no desire to revisit the camp. Under the floor of the tents the rats grew to cat size and sounded as though they were wearing boots when they tramped around while the men were trying to sleep at night. Really nothing to do all day, don't remember being allowed to go into the city and time passed slowly waiting for a ship."  Happy U.S. veterans head for harbor of Le Havre, France, the first to be sent home and discharged under the Army's new point system. [Signal Corps photo dated May 25, 1945 (111-SC-207868].  The SS Maritime Victory at Le Havre prior to boarding after leaving Philip Morris, January 1946      |
Someone once said that a true test of whether you're a "nerd" is if you can recite the entire BH's theme song from memory. I pass!
Good Morning w_over_w.
LS/MFT = Lovely Snippy/Means Fine Thread
<=== Mash This I've often wondered if anything good (besides Mrs. HJ) ever came out of Glendale...
Thank you Valin.
SAMWOLF!!!!
Can you imagine today having military installations named for cigarettes? The camps for service men going home from Europe were named after cigarette brands and I went to Camp Lucky Strike. The first thing I remember there was a sign, prominently displayed, that in no uncertain terms stated that "personnel being processed through this camp were entitled to have one souvenir pistol in their possession, but only one. Anyone found to have more than one will be court marshaled and given a sentence of six months hard labor in the European Theater of Operations."
There were pyramidal tents pitched on platforms at Camp Lucky Strike and outside each tent was a large hogshead full of water to be used in case of fire. Before we had been in the camp more than an hour or so, these barrels were overflowing and by evening you could clearly see that they were half full of all sorts of side arms.
I contributed a nice Austrian 9 mm pistol, which was shaped much like a 45 and came from Steyre, era WWI and mine were dated 1918 and 1919 if I remember correctly. They were a nice matched pair, but certainly not worth the risk of staying in Europe another six months. The one I kept was on the shelf in a closet for the next 20-30 years until I sold it to a collector. Never did fire it here at home, but got in lots of target shooting while in Austria.
It was December when we left Austria to go to Camp Lucky Strike. The Hungarians who had come through our guard post in the mountains had started returning to Hungary We moved the guard post down from the top of the pass into town because the impending snow that would make travel up the mountain difficult during the winter. I have often thought that I might like to visit that part of Austria again, but have never been enthused enough to go.
I would have no desire to revisit Camp Lucky Strike. Under the floor of the tents the rats grew to cat size and sounded as though they were wearing boots when they tramped around while we were trying to sleep at night. Really nothing to do all day, don't remember being allowed to go into the city and time passed slowly waiting for a ship.
We finally embarked on the Chapel Hill, a cargo ship converted to troop carrier. The hold had been converted into several decks and there were many bunks, 4-5 high, built close together. Not an ocean cruise by any means. I had been on 5 ships before this one, going over to Europe and back and forth across the channel and I had never had any trace of seasickness. Before we got out of the harbor in Marseilles I was on deck hanging over the rail along with, I would guess 80 per cent of the other passengers, sick as a dog. The decks, stairways, halls, heads etc. were covered with slime that first day and it was very hard to get around at all. Heaven help the guys who fell down.
http://www.jumpola.com/charliegreen/15.htm
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