War Stories from my Uncle Louie

On December 7, 1941, Japanese fighter planes attacked Pearl Harbor, sinking five battleships, destroying 188 aircraft, and killing 2355 U.S. servicemen. Four days later, the United States declared war against Japan, Germany, and Italy. My Uncle Louie was 20 years old at the time, living in Springfield, MA, and working at the Bosch plant there. He was engaged to his sweetheart, Betty, and they were planning a summer wedding.

Louie Gentile married Betty in July 1942, and soon received his draft notice. No one in the family was particularly concerned about Louie being drafted. He was blind in his right eye, and therefore not expected to pass his physical, which was scheduled for November 15, 1942. After his examination, he was sent to a waiting room with the other draftees. When the men selected were called by name, Louie wasn’t among them. But as the rejected men prepared to leave, suddenly two more names were called – and Gentile was one of them. There was a quota to meet, so Louie was added to the list for limited service duty. When the boss at Bosch heard, he was furious! He had asked Louie’s supervisor to file for a deferment because Louie’s expertise in mechanical and electrical work was needed for a special project. The supervisor hadn’t bothered because he also assumed Louie’s blindness would exclude him from the military.

Louie began his military service with seven months in the U.S., starting with basic training in Connecticut, where the winter was frigid. He describes the housing as “little shanties with no heat.” The result was pneumonia and quarantine for Louie, who was assigned to Military Battalion 767, Company C. Once he recovered, his sergeant selected him to be a cook. Why? Because he had worked at the Handy Lunch, a little restaurant back home. Although he had no experience as a cook, he excelled in the job and moved up the ranks from Private to Corporal and became First Cook.

In 1943, Louie received a new designation in the Army: Military Police. He was assigned to a unit of prisoner guards, but also continued cooking. His unit would go to New York City to pick up prisoners of war coming to the U.S. on ships. Prisoners were transferred all over the country by train, so Louie’s assignment took him to 38 states. While on the train, he cooked for over 200 prisoners and service members at a time.

Later that year, Louie made Sergeant and was chosen to go overseas to pick up prisoners. He went to North Africa, which he describes as “115 degrees in the shade.” His unit’s supplies were sparse at best. Louie slept on the dirt or in a pup tent. He received one canteen of water a day, and consistently ate muskmelon for lunch. He recalls how everything was sandy, and there was no getting away from it. For three months, Louie’s unit followed General Patton’s tank corps, picking up prisoners of war. When Italy surrendered on September 8, 1943, Louie was on a ship, taking Italian prisoners to the States. Four days into the trip, the ship turned around and went back to Africa, delivering the Italian sailors to a prison camp in Tunisia.

Upon arriving in Tunisia, Louie’s unit needed to eat, but the cooks had no food. Louie and the other cooks got in line to board a supply ship and secure food for their unit. They fortuitously received food from the officers’ K rations – bacon and eggs! That memorable meal was the last one Louie would cook, as the Italian prisoners then began cooking under his supervision. Louie became friendly with an Italian sailor named Tony, who was a professional boxer. He asked Louie if he knew how to box. When Louie said yes, Tony suggested they put on an exhibition match to entertain the GIs and prisoners. Louie was a bit reluctant, but Tony promised to take it easy on him, so he agreed. They went three rounds before Tony won the match. Louie now remembers it with a chuckle. I’d say he was a pretty good sport!

Louie also remembers a prisoner named Scottie, an Italian sailor about 15 years his elder, who maintained the kitchen stoves. Louie says he and Scottie took good care of each other. Scottie always wore a ring, which surprised Louie because jewelry was normally taken from prisoners. When it came time for Louie and Scottie to part ways, Scottie relayed the story of how he came to own the ring. He had been in Northern Italy, walking down the street one day, snacking on a piece of bread from the bakery. A hungry old man asked for some of the bread. When Scottie gave it to him, the man gave Scottie the ring and told him it would keep him safe. Scottie passed the ring on to Louie to help him get home safely. “I still have that ring somewhere,” Louie says today.

Louie had grown restless and wanted to get out of the kitchen. He now explains that he “didn’t want to miss out on all the fun,” a sign of the brazen invincibility of a young GI. He told his superiors he could read, write, and speak Italian, French, and some Spanish. In December 1943, Louie was transferred to Italy with a combat military police unit: the 54th MP group. His job was to interrogate Italians. He was stationed in the Naples area, living in a stadium near the docks. During the day, ships would come in with supplies. At night, they could expect 50-150 German planes flying over, dropping bombs on Allied ships and other targets. Louie and his unit would help recover bodies from decimated buildings. It was during this time that Louie had one of his “close calls.” One night, while he was down near the docks, he entered a building. A bomb was dropped on the building, leaving several people dead or wounded, but the bomb didn’t detonate, so Louie and others were able to walk out alive.

Louie worked with the Office of Strategic Services (OSS), a military intelligence agency that operated during World War II – before the CIA was created in 1947. Known to his comrades as “The Eye,” Louie would dress in civilian clothes and spend time among Italians, looking for enemy spies and anyone who could bring harm to Americans. His work took him into a lot of bars and secretive places. He remembers a woman who kept a brothel asking him to escort her girls to the public toilets down the street. British soldiers were trying to take advantage of these vulnerable women, so Louie stepped in to help. Even living in a completely different world, he remembered that his mama raised a gentleman.

As Louie now tells me his war stories, he seems to leave out a lot of details about his time working with OSS. You might think it’s because he’s 96 years old and his memory is failing, but that’s not the case. A soldier never forgets his training. As he recounts his experience, he automatically redacts the top secret details of his work.

Louie spent about 18 months in Italy. He had another close call with “Bed Check Charlie,” German bombers nicknamed for their ability to strike at night when many soldiers were trying to sleep. Louie and some buddies were out one night, not sure exactly where they were due to the heavy darkness of a city hiding from air attacks. One of Louie’s companions turned on a light, which drew fire from a passing plane that narrowly missed them. Lesson learned!

As Louie’s MP unit followed the troops north toward Rome, they spent some time in Gaeta, where they turned a hotel into living quarters. Louie tells a hilarious story about a soldier who was tired of taking cold baths. This inventive GI tried to use a flame thrower to heat the water before his bath. He lost control of the flame thrower, and came running into the courtyard completely naked!

On January 22, 1944, the Allies invaded Anzio, a coastal town just south of Rome. During his time in that area, Louie went through the minefields three times. He recalls sleeping in foxholes and boarding damaged American ships to help recover supplies. It’s a challenge for me to retrace all of Uncle Louie’s steps because historical records are full of dates and places. When Louie was there, he wasn’t thinking about what day it was or what town he might go to next. Each day was part of the same mission: to stay alive and win the war.

It’s worth noting how Italian-Americans helped the Allies in Italy. Once war was declared between Italy and the U.S., Mussolini wouldn’t allow Italian-Americans in Italy to return to the States. Some of them had American children who began spying for the Allies in Italy. Louie remembers working with an American kid who put himself at great risk to gather intelligence for the American military.

Louie’s combat MP unit received word that a convent was being threatened by advancing Germans. The nuns were asking for protection, so Louie and another GI were sent to assess the situation. As they approached the cloister, they drove their Jeep slowly in the dark without headlights, attempting to travel undetected by nearby German troops. When they arrived, they identified themselves at the door and were allowed into the front hall where Louie spoke (in Italian) to a nun who sat behind a screen. After obtaining the information they needed from her, she told them she was about to do something she shouldn’t do. She opened the screen so she could see the American soldiers. “Oh, you’re so handsome!” she said before quickly closing the screen again. When they went outside, a German soldier was patrolling with his dog. The dog barked and barked at Louie and his buddy, so they hid in a pile of leaves and prayed they wouldn’t be discovered. Soon they heard the German say, “Schnell! Schnell!” Louie doesn’t speak German, but he’ll never forget that word, which means “quick” or “follow me.” The German and his dog walked away, so Louie and his friend were able to sneak back to their Jeep, which they pushed quietly down the road until they were out of danger.

Louie also recalls searching a monastery on the Tiber River. German soldiers had occupied the monastery previously, so the Americans were looking to see what had been left behind. Louie punched through a wall and discovered secret documents the Germans had hidden there.

In June 1944, the Allies recaptured Rome from the Germans. As Louie advanced toward Rome, his brother, Al, also in the Army, was on the other side of the globe in New Zealand. In France, the Allies were landing at Normandy, with Louie’s brother, Carmen, storming the beach in the second wave on D-Day. Back home in the U.S., their brother, Jimmy, turned 18 and was drafted into the Army. He went to Washington to train with the Army Air Corps, while my dad (the youngest brother) stayed at home for his senior year of high school. The war had scattered the Gentile brothers all over the world.

While near Rome, Louie became very sick and had to be hospitalized. He suffered from excessive vomiting, but the doctors couldn’t figure out what was causing it. They wanted to send him home on a U.S. hospital ship, but Louie said, “No, the war isn’t over. I’m not leaving.” The major in charge at the hospital said he must return home, but one of Louie’s buddies drove the transport truck that carried patients to and from the hospital. He snuck Louie out of the hospital and back to work. Fortunately, he added Louie’s name to the hospital’s sign-out sheet. Louie was in a little bit of hot water, but at least he wasn’t AWOL (absent without leave). He recovered from his inexplicable illness and remained in Italy, following the troops north to Pisa.

Following the Allies’ victory in Europe in May 1945, Louie left Italy to join the war effort in the Pacific theater. About 16.1 million Americans served during World War II. Louie was one of only 17,000 service members who served in both the European and Pacific theaters. Louie traveled from Italy to New York, then down to Panama. His journey took him through the Panama Canal, then on to Australia and New Zealand. He looked for his brother upon arriving in New Zealand, but Al had left two days earlier for Japan. Louie then sailed to Pearl Harbor and joined a fleet headed for Okinawa, where the Allies were fighting the Battle of Okinawa. While anchored off the shore of Okinawa for the night, their fleet was bombed, but Louie’s ship wasn’t hit. The next day, his unit used landing craft to go ashore and join a group of U.S. Marines. One morning, the Marines didn’t get up for breakfast. Soldiers from Louie’s platoon found them all dead. They were in their pup tents with their throats cut. The Japanese had come silently in the night and killed them all as they slept. Soon after that, the atomic bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

Louie had another brush with death after the Japanese surrendered in August 1945. He was still on patrol in Okinawa, and had to ascend a coral mountain in rainy weather. His Jeep ended up in a precarious position – teetering on the edge of a steep slope. All the men inside had to jump down from the Jeep. Fortunately, it didn’t fall on them. A wedge of coral held the vehicle in place and preserved their lives.

After his time in Okinawa, Louie moved on to South Korea. He continued to work in military intelligence as the Allies took over the Japanese occupation of South Korea. The Japanese were taken as prisoners and put to work. One day, Louie was the Sergeant of the Guard on duty, overseeing about 60 Japanese prisoners who were loading spent ammunition on to a barge. A building next to the pier caught on fire, shooting sparks onto the barge, which was in danger of exploding. Louie evacuated the Japanese prisoners from the barge, ensuring their safety. He and the major in charge that day approached the barge as it started to burn. They cut the ropes that tethered it to the dock and pushed it away as best they could. As they ran away, the barge exploded. Louie was knocked out, but was otherwise uninjured. He spent two weeks in the barracks, recovering from a concussion. The major also recovered from his injuries. The Japanese presented Louie with an honor flag in recognition of his heroic efforts. He says he kept it tucked away in a duffle bag in his workshop until his son discovered it about 10 years ago.

In December 1945, Louie’s number came up and it was his turn to go home. He had been overseas for about two and a half years. The Army offered him three months of leave at home and a commission to Second Lieutenant if he would be willing to go to college to learn Russian and serve in Korea. Louie declined. He went home to Betty and they had five children together. Reflecting on his life, he now says his happiest days were spent on his farm, tending to his animals and vegetable gardens. My Uncle Louie turns 97 this Friday, May 25, 2018. I’m blessed to have him as my uncle and honored that he took the time to tell me his war stories. May the courage of Louie Gentile and the rest of the Greatest Generation inspire us for many years to come!

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