While at Law School during our first year, we had to register for the draft as the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor and the US became a participant in WWII. I registered in Boston and requested that my records be sent to East Providence. I was fortunate enough to escape being drafted for two years. Anthony Coelho who owned a drug store almost exactly across the street from my father’s liquor store, was a member of the draft board in town and in the summer of 1942 while I was in the drug store he mentioned that my name had come up at a meeting. Someone mentioned that I had been seen playing ball- my records indicated I had a broken leg. Very shortly thereafter, just before I was to start my last year on August 22, 1942, I reported for duty at Fort Devens, MA.
Normally troops were furnished clothing and shipped out to basic training camps within a week. Because of a shortage of clothing in my size, I stayed there for almost a month. On the 2nd or 3rd day, I was sent to the kitchen for KP (Kitchen Police) Duty, which was a job I certainly took no liking to. That night in our barracks I got to talk to a fellow who said he worked in the company “post office” and that his helper was shipping out the next day. He “invited” me to join him; no one questioned my right to be there, as he needed the help. The biggest part of the work consisted of forwarding mail to the men who had been shipped out. I stayed in the “post office” until the clothing in my size arrived in the middle of September and I was shipped to Camp Pickett, VA for Medical Basic Training, which I assume was “logical” for a law student, at least by military standards!
Basic training at a medical training center consisted mainly in getting every soldier in good physical condition, together with classes in first aid. The 1st Sergeant of the company to which I was assigned was a former gym teacher, and when he found out that I was one of the most educated men in the company, we became friends and from whom I learned the “ropes.” On more than one occasion I asked him why he hadn’t gone to Officer Commissioned School, but he never gave me an answer.
In December of 1942 after completing basic medical training I was granted a furlough, went home and while in RI I became engaged to the woman who was to become my bride in 1944. While at home I did visit the summer home that my parents had recently purchased on Platt St. in Bristol Narrows.
Sgt. Mitriga helped me in many ways and steered me to an Officer Prep School at Camp Pickett after which I returned to his company as an acting corporal until I left for Camp Berkeley, TX for OCS in June 1943, and from which I graduated as a 2nd Lieutenant, Medical Administrative Corps on August 18, 1943.
I attributed my success at OCS to Sgt. Mitriga. He loved to drill his men which he would do as often as possible and from him I learned and became a drill master, which I believe helped me at the OCS. Our company commander at OCS had made a remark I never forgot. While in formation the first day he remarked, “Look at the man on your left, now look at the man on your right. Now remember this, one of you won’t graduate!” Sometime later he started calling out some of the men to drill the company, or instruct the company in some movement. When it was my turn, I was told to form the company to pitch tents. Previously most of the men had been called to instruct a comparatively simple procedure. To pitch tents, I had to spread the men out in a special formation requiring 3 or 4 basic moves. The commander was standing behind me as I addressed the company, after the first commands, I turned to him, saluted, and said I could go no further because the men did not have their backpacks with the tents. He told me to bring the men back to their regular formation and then said I was to return the company to our barracks, and he left. As soon as he got out of earshot, a few of the men started to congratulate me for my work- not one of them said he could have done the job that I had done in remembering all the movements of the formation. From that day I became the person to whom all questions concerning drill formations were directed- and almost every night I was asked to go out and help teach someone in drill. I wrote to Sgt. Mitriga and thanked him for what he had done in helping me to do well in drill. I never heard from him until one day in Germany just a few weeks before the war ended, a 2nd Lieutenant Mitriga reported to me, the adjutant of the 327th Medical Battalion as a new officer for the battalion! Quite a reunion!
After graduation from OCS, I received a 7 day leave after which I was to return to Texas to report on August 30, 1943 to the 327th Medical Battalion of the 102nd Infantry Division which was at Camp Maxey near Paris, TX, near the OK border, so I was home for only 4 or 5 days, spending a few days of my leave on travel. The last leg of the trip was by bus to division headquarters, from where I was driven to the Medical Battalion Headquarters, and then to Company B where I found a captain sitting at a table on which there were a pile of papers. After saluting, giving my name, I asked what were my duties. He replied, “I am Captain Forejt, (I learned how to spell his name later), the company commander. You and I are at present the only officers, so you are the supply officer, motor officer…”, and he ran off a list of at least a half a dozen other duties! We became the best of friends- need I say more?
Normally troops were furnished clothing and shipped out to basic training camps within a week. Because of a shortage of clothing in my size, I stayed there for almost a month. On the 2nd or 3rd day, I was sent to the kitchen for KP (Kitchen Police) Duty, which was a job I certainly took no liking to. That night in our barracks I got to talk to a fellow who said he worked in the company “post office” and that his helper was shipping out the next day. He “invited” me to join him; no one questioned my right to be there, as he needed the help. The biggest part of the work consisted of forwarding mail to the men who had been shipped out. I stayed in the “post office” until the clothing in my size arrived in the middle of September and I was shipped to Camp Pickett, VA for Medical Basic Training, which I assume was “logical” for a law student, at least by military standards!
Basic training at a medical training center consisted mainly in getting every soldier in good physical condition, together with classes in first aid. The 1st Sergeant of the company to which I was assigned was a former gym teacher, and when he found out that I was one of the most educated men in the company, we became friends and from whom I learned the “ropes.” On more than one occasion I asked him why he hadn’t gone to Officer Commissioned School, but he never gave me an answer.
In December of 1942 after completing basic medical training I was granted a furlough, went home and while in RI I became engaged to the woman who was to become my bride in 1944. While at home I did visit the summer home that my parents had recently purchased on Platt St. in Bristol Narrows.
Sgt. Mitriga helped me in many ways and steered me to an Officer Prep School at Camp Pickett after which I returned to his company as an acting corporal until I left for Camp Berkeley, TX for OCS in June 1943, and from which I graduated as a 2nd Lieutenant, Medical Administrative Corps on August 18, 1943.
I attributed my success at OCS to Sgt. Mitriga. He loved to drill his men which he would do as often as possible and from him I learned and became a drill master, which I believe helped me at the OCS. Our company commander at OCS had made a remark I never forgot. While in formation the first day he remarked, “Look at the man on your left, now look at the man on your right. Now remember this, one of you won’t graduate!” Sometime later he started calling out some of the men to drill the company, or instruct the company in some movement. When it was my turn, I was told to form the company to pitch tents. Previously most of the men had been called to instruct a comparatively simple procedure. To pitch tents, I had to spread the men out in a special formation requiring 3 or 4 basic moves. The commander was standing behind me as I addressed the company, after the first commands, I turned to him, saluted, and said I could go no further because the men did not have their backpacks with the tents. He told me to bring the men back to their regular formation and then said I was to return the company to our barracks, and he left. As soon as he got out of earshot, a few of the men started to congratulate me for my work- not one of them said he could have done the job that I had done in remembering all the movements of the formation. From that day I became the person to whom all questions concerning drill formations were directed- and almost every night I was asked to go out and help teach someone in drill. I wrote to Sgt. Mitriga and thanked him for what he had done in helping me to do well in drill. I never heard from him until one day in Germany just a few weeks before the war ended, a 2nd Lieutenant Mitriga reported to me, the adjutant of the 327th Medical Battalion as a new officer for the battalion! Quite a reunion!
After graduation from OCS, I received a 7 day leave after which I was to return to Texas to report on August 30, 1943 to the 327th Medical Battalion of the 102nd Infantry Division which was at Camp Maxey near Paris, TX, near the OK border, so I was home for only 4 or 5 days, spending a few days of my leave on travel. The last leg of the trip was by bus to division headquarters, from where I was driven to the Medical Battalion Headquarters, and then to Company B where I found a captain sitting at a table on which there were a pile of papers. After saluting, giving my name, I asked what were my duties. He replied, “I am Captain Forejt, (I learned how to spell his name later), the company commander. You and I are at present the only officers, so you are the supply officer, motor officer…”, and he ran off a list of at least a half a dozen other duties! We became the best of friends- need I say more?
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