Jump into the Valley of the Shadow

Dwayne T. Burns, Leland Burns

• Publisher: Casemate
• Year: 2020
• Print ISBN: 9781935149835
• eBook ISBN: 9781935149941
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: Military Biographies
• Index: History

A paratrooper's memoir of survival and close-quarters combat in WWII: "Well worth reading" ( Flight Journal).
 
When Dwayne Burns turned eighteen, he decided he wanted to fight alongside America's best. He joined the paratroopers and was assigned to the 508th Regiment of the 82nd Airborne Division. Little did he suspect that a year later he'd be soaring in a flak-riddled C-47 over Normandy, part of the very spearhead of the Allied drive to seize back Europe.
 
Burns landed behind German lines during the dark early hours of D-Day and gradually found other survivors of his division. The paratroopers fought on every side in a confused running battle through the hedgerows, finally making a stand in a surrounded farmhouse. With one room reserved for their growing piles of corpses, the paratroopers held their ground until finally relieved by infantry advancing from the beaches.
 
After being pulled out of Normandy, the airborne troops were launched into Holland as part of Montgomery's plan to gain a bridgehead across the Rhine. This daytime jump was less confused than the nocturnal one, but there were more Germans than expected and fewer Allied forces in support. It was another maelstrom of point-blank combat in all directions, and though the 82nd achieved its objectives, the campaign as a whole achieved little but casualties.
 
The 82nd had hardly refilled with replacements when the Germans broke through the US front in the Ardennes. The 82nd's paratroopers were put aboard trucks and hastened to stand in the way of the panzer onslaught. Passing through Bastogne, they went farther north to St. Vith, where the US 7th Armored and other divisions were reeling. The 82nd held its own with quickly assembled defense perimeters, allowing other units to escape. After beating off massive attacks by the German SS, the paratroopers were disgusted to hear that they, too, had been ordered to retreat. They didn't feel they needed to, but Monty was determined to "tidy up the battlefield." On January 3, they counterattacked through the freezing hills, sealing off the Bulge and pursuing the Germans back into the Reich.
 
In this work, Dwayne Burns, assisted by his son Leland (US Army, 1975–79), not only relates the chaos of combat but the intimate thinking of a young soldier thrust into the center of several of history's greatest battles. His memories provide a fascinating insight into the reality of close-quarters combat.

JUMP

One

“No one is to be off base for any reason.”

“Woody, this is serious business,” I said.

It was the 28th of May and the Red Devils of the 508th Parachute Infantry Regiment had just packed and left their camp at Nottingham, England. We were making a run by truck to Saltby Airfield. Woody Phelps rode beside me. Our truck drivers drove us right across the grass field taxi-ways and we couldn’t help but notice there were curls of barbed wire all along the perimeter, with several guards stationed at the gate. Our C-47 troop carriers and the Waco gliders used by other airborne troops were having broad black and white stripes added to their otherwise drab olive coating.

“Yeah,” Woody answered. “Look at the new paint jobs on all the planes and gliders!”

“War paint,” came the voice of Ramon Prieto from somewhere behind me.

For months and months we had trained to be a fighting force. A year ago I had started training with the heavy machine gun and mortar. Then I joined the paratroopers. After earning my wings I was sent to communications school and my new specialty became radio operator and field telephone installer. There were hundreds of different training stories among the men but we all started a new job at Saltby Airfield. There our assignment was to wait. The junior officers and sergeants got the last minute checks underway and these we performed over and over. Early upon arriving, each company was introduced to a room where the top brass had set up sand tables with a mockup of the French countryside, all laid out with the division drop zones marked and displayed. German gun emplacements were pointed out and anti-glider poles were plotted in from reconnaissance photos.

The more intelligence looked at the photos the more enemy positions they found, and each time we looked at the sand table there were more emplacements and plots. We would be facing the Germans’ 243rd Division, their 709th and 352nd Divisions, and, as a latecomer, the 91st Air Landing Division. God alone knew what else they had waiting that our recon had failed to discover.

At first I was impressed with what army intelligence knew and the efforts they made to inform us. But as the next several days passed more items were added to the tables until, after a while, everyone started wishing army intelligence would just stop looking, or else keep it to themselves.

The waiting was a hard duty to pull. We knew what was coming; it was just a matter of when. Some called it Operation Overlord, most referred to it as D-Day. The one thing I was certain of was that “someday” had come. Before now it had always been, “but not today.” I knew “someday” was out there. But when I was enjoying my last leave in Fort Worth, Texas and asking my girl Minerva to become my fiancée, it seemed a long way off. After reaching the Irish coast “someday” was still a distant date, and even after we settled into Nottingham and the regiment became attached to the 82nd Airborne Division, the troopers trained during the day, swung freely at night, and we didn’t worry about “someday.” Today, however, there were no more tomorrows to live, unless I counted war as living. I tried to stay busy and keep my mind on something else, to think of another time. Fort Worth, Texas was home but it seemed like another world now. It was a past life.

I remember on Induction Day sitting towards the back of the bus when John McGee got on. He looked around, saw me and sauntered my way. I soon learned that John never walked, but always had a Texas saunter, a stride like a slow, southern drawl in motion. He was a nice-looking kid with sandy brown hair and a prominent nose. He was slim as a rail and sported a mischievous grin.

Sticking out a strong, bony hand he introduced himself to me for the first time, “Hi, I’m John McGee. You headed for the draft board?”

I told him who I was and he was right, the draft board in Dallas was exactly where I was headed.

He then flopped down on my bench seat saying, “Well we may as well go together.”

That started a tremendous friendship. It was May 11, 1943,ⁱ the day I began one of the biggest changes of my life.

John and I were on the bus early that morning. We waited while it filled up with a bunch of other inductees. Then we were taken to Dallas for our physicals.

When the physicals started we were both full of quips and smart aleck remarks, enjoying the camaraderie of our induction day. Late in the afternoon, after we were allowed to dress, our processing ended in a large lecture hall with many other guys.

An army sergeant came in and barked, “Congratulations! You men have just passed your physical. Now will you please raise your right hand and repeat after me.”

Upon lowering our right hands, we were suddenly all in the U.S. Army. The sergeant then gave us seven days to settle our affairs before reporting back for active duty. If you preferred, you could have gone to camp that day. John and I took the seven days. There were a lot of guys there that afternoon, but fate had brought John and myself together, and for over a year now had kept us together. John too was a part of the 508th Airborne Regiment and we had really beaten the odds when we ended up together in F Company. He was in the 3rd Platoon. I was with company headquarters.

That was a good day but before long it led my thoughts right back to the coming invasion. Once there an image of a briefing officer kept haunting me.

“Sir,” a trooper asked in humble respect, “what are our chances?”

The officer answered, “Some within General Eisenhower’s staff are convinced the airborne troops will receive seventy to eighty percent casualties. That’s a combined figure for the 82nd, the 101st and the British divisions.”ⁱⁱ

This officer laid it on the line as if he were giving out the weather; just the facts and figures. Then he asked if there was another question. After that last one we didn’t want to ask any more.

I tried thinking of my fiancée, Minerva. She and I had met the same day I met John McGee.

It was after our induction. John and I had parted company at the bus stop and I returned home to break the news to my folks. I briefly shared some of my experiences in Dallas and discussed some final business with Dad. He knew what lay ahead. He had served in the first big war. Back then the army had set up Camp Bowie on the west side of Fort Worth. It was gone before I was born but Dad, a native of Missouri, was stationed there in the Engineering Corps. After his discharge, he returned to Fort Worth and made the community his permanent home.

After talking to my family, I told Mom I was going to drive over to see Ed Mize, my long-time school friend.

“I’ll be home late,” I explained, “because I’ve only got seven days of playing time.”

The door slammed behind me as I stopped and took a moment to look at my car in the driveway. I’d had her for about six months. She was a thing of beauty: a Model A Ford two-door sedan with a new paint job, new upholstery and a rebuilt engine. Inside the house I had just told Dad to sell her, because I couldn’t see my car sitting and rusting while I was away for years. After climbing into my car I just sat for a moment, running my hands over the steering wheel. Adjusting the rearview mirror and reaching down to shake the gearshift a time or two, I thought, “Lord I would miss her.”

We drove together slowly, the car and I, over to Ed’s house. It was going to be hard saying goodbye to Ed because he was the closest thing I’d ever had to a brother. We had been best friends since the fifth grade. We had fought with each other and for each other. Throughout most of high school we dated a lot of the same girls and even once dated sisters. He was a handsome sort, with an ever-ready line of bull and a head of wavy hair all the girls went ape over. It seemed funny going somewhere without him, but he sure wouldn’t be joining the military right away. At seventeen, Ed was nearly a full year younger than I.

Inside Ed’s house we sat and talked for a long time. He said he would go into the Navy, but with Ed you never could tell. He was always changing his mind. One day he planned to be a lawyer, the next he was joining the FBI. I had learned to wait and in another day or two he would pursue another dream. I told him about the examination, its poking and pushing, and about the swearing-in ceremony.

“Hey,” I told him, “I met a guy who lives down in Brookside by the name of John McGee. He is going in the same time I am. Do you know him?”

Ed said. “Well yes, I know him when I see him, but we have never really met. He seems like an OK guy.”

Then Ed said, “But listen, you’re going into the army. This calls for some kind of celebration! Let’s drive downtown and pick up my girl, Frances, when she gets off work. She can introduce you to one of the girls there and we’ll go out for a night on the town.”

Now, a night on the town for two men of the world like us was going to be a movie or a few games at the bowling alley. Later we might have a midnight snack at Tuck’s Waffle Shop or a lime cooler at the Triple X. Those were two of the hot spots where all the high school kids could be found late at night.

Ed’s girlfriend Frances worked at Martha Washington’s Ice Cream Shop. We went there and sat down at a couple of counter stools. Frances saw us and came over, and we said hello. While she was getting our Cokes, I looked over the other girls who were on duty. There was a young woman at the far end of the counter with soft brown hair and big brown eyes and I thought, “So pretty! She’s the one for me. I wonder if she’d like to go out.”

When Frances came back with the Cokes Ed said, “Dwayne is joining the army and we thought we might all go out and celebrate, but his steady moved away so he needs a date. Can you fix him up with someone?”

Well, she turned to the other girls and thought for ...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Front Page
• Contents
• Prologue
• 1 “No one is to be off base for any reason.”
• 2 The ship was bouncing like some wild bronco.
• 3 “There are no options. We’ll hold our ground right here.”
• 4 “He didn’t make it. He’s dead.”
• 5 “Strap on the radio and stay close.”
• 6 “Make me a sergeant.”
• 7 “You’re not killing anyone; you’re shooting
• 8 “My gosh, what are we going to do?”
• 9 We ran for the lights and shot from the hip.
• 10 “We’ve been ordered to move up and stop them.”
• 11 Christmas just couldn’t get any worse than this.
• 12 “Fox Three, do you copy?”
• 13 “Are you trying to take me out with an 88?”
• 14 Nothing was too good for Eisenhower’s Red Devils.
• 15 “I’m not a damn Yank, I’m from Texas!”
• Epilogue
• Footnotes