Part Two: A Vet's Voice
Lieutenant Parks, who was our supply officer, ordered Corporal P. Gerald Barbato to pick up supplies for the 24th Signal Company, which were waiting for us at the beach. Knowing how precise the military was in the requisitioning and allocation of provisions, the lieutenant had simply referred to the necessary supplies as “our stuff.” Commandeering a three-quarter ton truck from the motor pool, Barbato drove, as he was told, to the appointed spot on the beach. Inquiring of his fellow soldiers as to where he could pick up the “stuff” for the 24th Signal Company, he was directed to a very large landing craft loaded with supplies. With swagger in his step, he marched up the gangway and announced that he had come to pick up “the stuff.” The officer in charge replied, “Here it is; take it away.”
The Corporal gulped audibly as he beheld a mountain of goods and then cast his eyes back over his shoulder at his truck. The laws of physics told him that there was no way that all of that stuff was going to fit into his truck. From the beach master’s hut, he phoned in a request for every available truck in our motor pool to get down to the beach to haul the stuff back to camp.
Understand, please that this was wartime, where luxuries were few and far between. When we did enjoy little extravagances, they were carefully rationed. On that quiet morning, as the first truck rolled in loaded to the gills with 10-pound bags of sugar, we thought we were seeing a mirage. I was in the mess hall helping the Sergeant, Werner (”Dutch”) Poppe, prepare lunch for the troops. In a thick German accent, Dutch ordered, “Quick, Tommy, help me! Someone’s made a mistake!” Snatching bags of sugar, he tossed them to me, panting, “Hide them; it’s a mistake!”
As we were engaging in this Chinese fire drill, another truck rolled in full of canned hams. This was followed by another vehicle carrying clothing and a fourth truck conveying more foodstuffs. At this point, the entire company was converging upon the trucks like army ants, sampling the goods. The phone rang in our headquarters and the person on the other end was not happy. He informed Lieutenant Parks that he had better get the stuff back to the Quartermaster on the double, or Parks would be demoted!
A smiling Corporal Barbato arrived on the scene only to be greeted by a befuddled Parks who said, “You were only supposed to pick up a bundle of olive-drab pants and shirts!” Sputtering, Barbato replied, “You told me to pick up the stuff for 24th Signal Company and they said, “Here it is; take it away!” 99% of the goods were returned to an incensed Quartermaster, who vowed never to provide us with fresh food and vegetables as long as we were on the island. Lieutenant Parks retained his rank, but Barbato never rose above the rank of Corporal.
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