My Father, Hollis Woodard, was born April 9, 1917 in Winnsboro, Texas to Virgil Hood Woodard and Lona Tinney Woodard. He was the oldest of 13 kids (7 girls and 6 boys). Five Woodard boys left home to fight for their country during Second World War. Only the 6th boy was too young to serve. These are my Father’s memories of World War 2.

Hollis H. Woodard – U.S. Army
(11 Feb 1942 – 17 Oct 1945)

Citations (per discharge): EAME Campaign medal (European–African–Middle Eastern Campaign Medal) with 5 Bronze stars, Good Conduct Medal, Bronze Star Medal, 1 service stripe, 4 Overseas Service Bars

Five Woodard boys would serve. These are memories of World War 2, written by the oldest, Hollis Woodard.

His farming family faithfully attended a Missionary Baptist Church, where prayer and Bible study was encouraged. My Father wore out his little military Bible during his service, and told me numerous times that it was the faith and many prayers of family and friends that got all five home. As the oldest, my father took on the responsibility for checking in on his younger brothers, something that is quite difficult in war time. I can see in his letters how much he cared for them, and how much that helped my grandparents deal with the uncertainty.

He loved sharing his faith with others as a Sunday School teacher and lay minister. His lessons often included memories of the war, and how the family stood on God’s Word to get everyone home. As the years passed, and the family grew, he wanted to write down his memories for future generations. The fruit of his effort can be seen here.

Hollis Woodard left this life on 08 Feb 2009 in Longview, Texas, surrounded by his family. — Harrison Woodard

The Woodard Boys Go to World War II

In The Army Now – Part 1

By Hollis Hood Woodard

(1917 – 2009)

I shall never forget February 11, 1942. That was the date my brother, Frank and I were inducted into the army.

It was twelve degrees outside the morning we got up to go to Quitman, Texas to catch the bus for Oklahoma. Dad kept his 1938 Dodge pickup in a shed at the barn. This was important because everything outside had ice on it. We reached the truck and were chilled to the bone, just reaching it. All three of us sat in the front seat. It was 4:00 AM when we left, and by the time we made the fifteen mile trip to Quitman, the heater on the truck had us so comfortable, that when we arrived at the Court House, we did not want to board any bus.

There were three large buses ready to carry 91 Wood County boys to Fort Sill, Oklahoma. As we were gathering around, I noticed that the sheriff and two of his deputies were standing by watching. The sheriff was standing by my bus. Being well acquainted with the sheriff, I asked him if there was a problem. He told me there wasn’t one. Later, I found out that he had a report that some of the boys were going to slip some moonshine on the bus, and he was watching for that. I had my answer, so I went ahead visiting with my Dad and Frank while we were waiting for them to start calling our names.

I glanced at my Dad several times and could see he was troubled by it all. But being a strong man of prayer, I felt he had turned the care of his two sons over to the Lord. I shall never forget one little stepfather pulling me aside and telling me his wife wanted me to watch over her son. I told him I would be happy to check on him from time to time. The boy’s Mother went to school with my Mother and knew that I would do the right thing. As it was, I did watch over him until we got to Ft. Still. There, he was transferred to another post. I didn’t see him again until we all go back from overseas. My prayers were that he would be alright, because I knew his little Mother was trusting me to keep him in line.

As we started boarding the buses that morning, I made it my business to find out who was going to try to bring the liquor on board. The sheriff was watching real close and noticed some guys with pickles in fruit jars in card board boxes. He took one glance and asked the guy if he liked pickles and he told the sheriff he was eating them all the time and his Mother suggested he bring some with him to camp. This seemed to please the sheriff and seemed possible to me, but after our bus moved out onto highway eighty, I noticed they were taking the fruit jars out of the boxes and passing them around. Then I knew how the liquor was going to get on the bus. My first trip home I told the Sheriff that those pickles were soaked in moonshine.

We were going to stop in Decatur, Texas for dinner and I was going to call Uncle John Woodard who was School Superintendent of Wise County to come down to meet Frank and I while we had lunch, but when we got there, there were only three sober people on the bus, the Driver, Frank, and myself. They had drunk up all the pickle juice and were sucking on the pickles.

I was embarrassed by the group of boys that got off our buses when we arrived at Fort Sill. They took us right in for physicals and I can remember one old boy from East Point was so drunk that another guy and I had to help the doctors undress him. We stood him up against the wall and one held him and the other undressed him. After we got him examined we left him sitting in the corner in his birthday clothes.

My father and Uncle Frank served in the 2nd Field Artillery Observation Battalion (FAOB). They were tasked with locating and destroying enemy artillery using various methods, as well as adjusting fire to maximize impact.

Later, I noticed some of the other guys had put his clothes back on him. We went from our physicals and received our uniforms. We put our civilian clothes in boxes to be shipped home. I remember thinking I was glad I wouldn’t be home when our clothes arrived. Mother was having a hard time seeing her boys go off to the army and would have a problem in putting their clothes away.

Later that evening we were taken to a large class room and given a series of tests. I figured that this might have something to do with our army assignments and told Frank we wanted to try hard on these tests. I had a problem with a fellow from the far Southeast part of the county. He was having trouble and wanted me to pass my papers to him so he could copy the results. I told him this would not be right, but he never gave up, and I am sure he brought my score down. The poor guy had about a fourth grade education. Right after the tests they started assigning us to training units. I heard them mention that they needed some farm boys that understood mules and horses for assignment to a horse drawn artillery unit. Here again I told Frank to tell them we knew nothing about handling mules and horses. We were thankful that when they got to us they had their quota for this outfit.

All the time I was doing my utmost to keep Frank with me. For some reason I was called over to personnel for something pertaining to my record and happened to notice a note on both our records stating these boys are twins, do not separate. Frank and I were finally assigned to a training company and found that we were two of three Texans in a company of boys from Brooklyn, New York, and New Jersey. We moved our beds together and invited the boy from Naples, Texas to move his bed next to ours. The first night, as we were getting ready to go to bed, I was sharpening my knife on the sole of my shoe and happened to notice one of the boys from Brooklyn watching me. I had bought one of the Texas Special knives that were pretty popular with the boys at the time. It had a blade about three inches long and I could tell I had made an impression on the boy from Brooklyn. In fact, I heard him tell one of his buddies,

“Look at the knife that Texas has. I bet he would use it if he had to.”

After that I decided to try to get along with these Yankees, and before we left the company, some of them were our best friends.

We went through thirteen weeks of very hard training before we were assigned to a combat unit. We were training as Field Artillery Communication men. During training we thought there would be a lot of climbing in wiring up Field Artillery outfits and Frank and I both did a lot of training in climbing poles. This was useless training as we never had to climb many times in combat. Quite a bit of our basic training seemed to me to be useless. For example the first time we went our for close order drill training. This read headed sergeant that weighed about two hundred and fifty pounds lined us up in single file and got out front and stated,

“I can whip any of you SOBs, and if there is any one that thinks he can whip me, take one step forward.”

Well this was February and very cold in Oklahoma. In fact there was a very stiff North wind blowing and I was afraid it would blow me out of formation and I would have to fight the big sergeant. I didn’t feel that this was necessary, but I guess they were trying to get us mad before sending us overseas. When we had completed our thirteen weeks, we were told that we were shipping out and would probably end up in combat in a few days. This captain told us we had not trained as hard as we should and would probably be sorry that we hadn’t worked harder when we had to face the enemy. I was watching Frank and wondering what he was thinking, but he just kept smiling.

While waiting to board the train, we were both expecting to end up in the Pacific. In fact, we learned that the group that left ahead of us was in the Pacific. Most of the guys on the car we were on sat quietly as our train headed South out of Fort Sill. Most felt as we did that the Pacific was in our future. When we arrived in Fort Worth, we were put on a siding. We watched as they were pulling some of the cars out and attaching others to us. Later, these cars that had been on our train were back on the main track and heading west. Those old boys were on their way to the Pacific. We were left still wondering where they were sending us. While we were discussing this possibility, some officer came to our car and told us we were going to be in Fort Worth for about two hours and that we were free to get out and look around.

It was getting pretty late at night and Frank and I had a double lower bunk so we decided to go to bed. Later as we both suspected several of the guys were drunk when they came back and we both knew our sleeping was going to be hindered for a while. One old boy pulled our curtain back and wanted to know if we were hot in there. I made the mistake of telling him it was a little warm, so he set a twenty five pound block of ice under us. I moved it where it wouldn’t get our bed wet and waited until everyone settled down and the train started moving. After we had been moving for a while I set it out in the aisle. One of the drunks decided he would get up and keep the others awake. Well, he ran into more problems than he expected. The block of ice was sliding up and down the aisle of the car as it stopped and started. And each time it went down the aisle, it would knock the drunk down. He couldn’t figure out what was going on. In fact, he kept mentioning that if he got his hands on it he was going to tear it apart. Frank and I spent the remainder of the night watching this drunk and his nemesis. With the mud in the aisle, the melting ice, and the determined drunk, there was quite a mess when we arrived at Camp Bowie the next morning.

Since we were on a local track and making slow progress, almost stopping at times, it was apparent that we were on our way to Camp Bowie, Texas.  Camp Bowie at this time consisted of four men tents with plank walkways. It was Sunday morning and raining, making the black land quite sticky. Compared to the nice barracks and paved streets at Fort Sill, this was quite a letdown. Frank and I were sent to the Orderly Room and ordered to wait. Someone would eventually come by and tell us where to go. We picked up our barracks bags and started down the Company Street. When we approached the first tent, the door flew open and three soldiers came out fighting. Two were really working the third soldier over. We saw that he needed help. Frank pulled one soldier off and he took one glance at Frank and headed back into the tent. I had the misfortune of trying to pull a half Indian off the guy and ended up with him telling me he was going to beat the hell out of me, I had been on that train all night and had no intentions of taking a beating without giving something back. We ended up standing toe to toe and he finally turned away and mentioned something about he would get me later. To make a long story short every time he got drunk he would have one of his buddies tell me that he was going to get me. He never did, and I was glad, because I knew I would have to hurt him in order to keep him from hurting me.

After the fight at the tent, Frank and I went on to the Orderly Room, which was another tent. We waited there for about thirty minutes and didn’t see a soul. Finally, a First Sergeant came along and told us he was getting all the new boys together and we were all going to go to church together. I asked him what church he was going to send us all to, and he said the Protestant Church. I reminded him that he might be making a mistake since most of the guys were Catholic. He stated that they would go where he sent them. Those Catholic boys got the word to someone and the first formation we had was to tell us that Catholic boys would not be required to go to Protestant services.

The next day we were assigned to the batteries we would be working with getting ready for combat duty. Frank was sent to A Battery and assigned to the Communication Section. I was assigned to B Battery and told to report to the Commanding Officer. Upon reporting, I was told that he wanted me to work in the office. I told him I had done work in the office in civilian life and preferred another assignment. He agreed he would work something out for me if I would come to headquarters and work one day each week. I never did find out where he wanted me to train and found myself in what we called the Flash Platoon, later in the Sound Platoon, and finally when we went on a training trip to Louisiana they assigned me to the Communication Section, B Battery for this training period. We all agreed that this training period was almost as rough as combat. First, when we got there they warned us that the woods were full of coral snakes. This made it hard for me to sleep in a pup tent out in the woods and most of the time we would all try to sleep in the truck if possible. I found out it I was quick enough I could get the tail gate. If I couldn’t get on the truck, I would clear me a wide space and pitch my tent on the cleared area. I felt that a snake would not bother hanging around where some humans had cleared out a space for a tent. Another thing we had to deal with was wild hogs and stray cattle. One night a cow ran into a boy’s tent and he ran out and threw a stick at her. She came toward my tent and didn’t see it until she was on it and had to jump my tent. Scared me to death because I was in the tent trying to sleep. Another time a wild pig wandered into my tent while I was sleeping and stepped on my hand. I caught him by the leg and he squealed, tore lose and went out the open part of my tent. He scared me so that I went out the back without unfastening the flaps.

One night about midnight we had finished laying about ten miles of wire and called in for further orders. They told us to find tree cover and bed for the night. I managed to beat the other guys to the tail gate and let it down and put one blanket down to sleep on and, since the nights were damp and cool, used the other one to cover up so I could keep warm. This was the summer of 1942 and the mosquitoes were bad, so we covered our heads to keep them off. It was Saturday night and I didn’t remember seeing a little country church when we pulled in under this big tree, but we were so tired we dropped off to sleep. I was awakened by a blinding flash of light and when I jumped up, here stood this little old lady with her bible asking me if we wanted to go to church. She had noticed me sleeping on the tail gate and walked up and pulled the blanket back from my head. I thanked her and told her we were expected back at headquarters that morning. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I got a good look around and found that we were in a church yard full of cars.

When we got back to our headquarters, we were told that we had been alerted to go overseas and they pulled me off the Communication truck and sent me and three other soldiers to Fort Polk, Louisiana, to draw new weapons that we would be using overseas.

They moved us out into and open field and set up a tent city for us to start receiving new equipment and getting our paperwork in order to go overseas. We were all bothered thinking that we might not get to go home again before we shipped out, plus the fact that we were still wearing leggings and the chiggers had ferociously attacked my legs infecting both. Our Medical Staff tried to help me get rid of them. Finally, after about a week of hurrying around getting ready to go, our orders were cancelled and we were told we were going back to Camp Bowie. When we arrived back they had built permanent barracks with paved streets. Most of us got furloughs and Frank and I headed back to Wood County. My Mother took one look at my legs and told me she would fix me up something that would heal the Chigger bites. She got some buttermilk, sulfur, and several other things and had me roll up my britches and put that concoction on my legs. When I returned from furlough, my legs were healed. The first day back the Medical Officer asked me how my legs were and when I told him they were well he wanted to know what healed them. When I told him what my Mother had used on my legs he couldn’t believe it.

My brother H. L. was drafted about the time we returned to Camp Bowie and was sent to an Infantry training camp at Breckenridge, Texas. He completed his training and was sent to North Africa. He beat Frank and I overseas by two or three months. At Camp Bowie I found myself again without a permanent assignment in B Battery and was spending most of my time at the Battery Office with limited work in the Communication Section. Finally, my commanding officer called me in and told me he wanted me to go to an Administration and Leadership training school over at Corps Headquarters. I decided that they were going to use me in administration and I might just as well find out all I could about it. After I completed the course I was assigned to Headquarters Battery with the title of Classification Sergeant. We were alerted to go overseas again and I was to go through all the enlisted men’s records to check what they did in civilian life. Many of the men of the outfit showed as their civilian occupation as “soldier.” We knew this wasn’t right and I set out to try to interview as many as possible to see if some had civilian jobs that we could use in the army. I found several general mechanics, auto mechanics, and one watch repairman. The army needed all the watch repairmen that it could get and this fellow transferred out of the outfit with the rank of sergeant. He was doing a menial job and had never got past Private First Class.

After we were alerted to go overseas I was transferred to the Personnel Platoon and went overseas in that classification and later became Personnel Sergeant. I shall never forget when I realized that we were actually heading for combat. I was hoping we would be close to H. L. and as it turned out we ended up in the same area in North Africa. The army was always in a hurry to wait. We had to get our heavy equipment ready and ship it to the place where we would be boarding boats to go overseas. Next, we had to check everyone to see if all their paperwork was in order. We asked all to check their insurance policies to see if they had named the person they wanted to get their insurance as beneficiary. Next, we had to be sure everyone had their shots. After we had gone through all this most of us were sure we were going to the European Theater. The day we were to leave Camp Bowie they got us up early and moved us out of our barracks in the hot sun. We had to clean our barracks so they would pass inspection. This was July and the sun was really hot outside the barracks. We remained outside until almost sundown when they started loading us on the trucks to go to the train.

Getting on the train was another heart breaker, because some of the guys had married and some had small children and they were standing around the train crying and holding onto their husbands and fathers as long as they could. We left Camp Bowie at about 9:00 PM and were on that train for three and one half days. Being in those close quarters for that time brought about a few fist fights. I can remember having to stop a couple myself. Eating was a problem since the mess car was in the middle of the train and we had to pass through several cars in order to get our meals. When we arrived in Chicago one cool, wet morning, they decided we needed some exercise and got us out in the railroad yard to get that exercise. I shall never forget that I ended up near a steel post and almost beat the hide off my left fist against the pole.

The trip was tiresome and I was glad when we arrived at our staging area. Our staging area was Camp Myles Standish, Massachusetts. The camp was located out in the woods and troops that were there ahead of us left it in poor shape. The first thing I wanted was a warm bath but when I went to the bath area I almost changed my mind because it was a mess. But I managed to push most of the trash out of the way and got my bath. I went back to my barracks thinking I would bed down and try to get a good night’s sleep but as I was getting my bed ready they came for me and told me I was needed in headquarters to help process our people for overseas. Well, it was four in the morning before we finished that assignment and I couldn’t believe how cold it was outside. As I mentioned earlier this was July and the nights in Texas were real hot but up here the mornings were cold enough for frost. I managed to get in bed and got some sleep before they had us up again getting our equipment in our backpacks and getting them on our backs to go to the train and to go to the port and get on the boat that would carry us overseas. I had to laugh when we started. Our captain was going to march us to the train, but we were unable to keep in step with the heavy backs on our back. He finally decided to just let us walk normally down to the train.

I had to laugh at one rule they had on the train regarding the curtains on the windows. We could leave the curtains up until we were approaching a city then they would pull all the curtains on all cars. Since some of they guys lived in the New York City area, they would peep under the curtains to see if we were close to where they lived. Finally one Master Sergeant started making those doing this to get out in the aisles and get down on their knees. He came along and for some reason made me get out in the aisle and get on my knees. I wasn’t trying to see out and was reading my bible. He and I got in quite an argument and the Captain intervened. I told him the whole thing didn’t seem right because if a German Spy saw a passenger train going through towns with the curtains pulled, he would suspect that it was carrying American soldiers. He let us all get back into our seats and told us that they wouldn’t tolerate anyone trying to look out the windows.

The Second Field Artillery Observation Battalion was formed in 1940. Four more battalions were formed in 1941. After Pearl Harbor, expansion continued until, by the end of hostilities, there were about twenty-five complete battalions. Observation units landed early with every major amphibious operation of the war. And during the Battle of the Bulge, it was the 285th Field Artillery Observation Battalion that was massacred by the advancing Germans at Malmedy. For more on the science behind field artillery observation – The Field Artillery Observation Battalion.

Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3 – Part 4 – Part 5 – Part 6 – Part 7 – Part 8

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