Pictured are Eva and J.B. Crain, parents of Steve Crain. This photo was made while J.B. served in the U.S. Army during World War II. He is wearing the "Railsplitters" patch on his shoulder.
(The below column by Larry Steve Crain was printed in “The Pilot,” a newspaper in Southern Pines, N.C., on August 24, 1998)
The Steven Spielberg film “Saving Private Ryan” gives a glimpse of what some World War II combatants experienced. I received something from the film, though I agree with writer Dennis Rogers that Spielberg brings a shipload of ’60s values to a time and a struggle that took place before he was born.
Having spent a year as a non-combat soldier in a drug-infested “safe” area of Vietnam, I believe I know what Rogers means when he also writes: “It seems beyond the comprehension of Spielberg and so many who came of age during the Vietnam era that sometimes ordinary men do extraordinary things in war for the purest and noblest of reasons.”
I was drawn to “Saving Private Ryan,” not because of any Vietnam experience, but because my father, who died in 1989, was an American infantryman in Germany from November 1944 through May 1945.
As my wife and I viewed the movie, I was overwhelmed by Spielberg’s portrayal of D-Day at Omaha Beach. Watching the drama unfold on the screen, I thought of the day my grandmother, in rural South Carolina, opened the door of the small barn we called “the grainery.” I was seven years old.
“What’s that?” I asked, pointing to the olive-drab backpack hanging on one of the barn’s interior walls.
“That’s your Daddy’s…from the war,” she replied soberly. She handed me the rucksack, and it added reality when my friends and I played soldiers. I still have it today.
The movie continued as I recalled another day from childhood when I opened a drawer and saw my father’s combat infantryman badge thrown in with some nuts and bolts. The silver rifle on the pretty blue background seemed to deserve better company. Also in the drawer was a round shoulder patch showing a white ax splitting a white rail silhouetted on a red background. It was the insignia of the U.S. Army’s 84th Infantry Division, the “Railsplitters.” Known as the Lincoln Division in World War I., it was activated on Oct. 15, 1942, at Camp Howze, Texas, about 60 miles north of Dallas.
My father was a quiet man who said little about the war. He did relate that once he lay all night in the snow, pinned down by machinegun fire. Another time, he told of going for medical attention and then returning to find that some of his friends had been killed. Of the photos he gave me, one is my favorite: My father is smiling as he exits a war zone poultry shed with an egg in his hand.
As the film saga of Private Ryan progressed, I thought about what war does to some of its participants. My father was nervous and negative about life, and I’ve wondered if he would have been that way despite the war. My uncle, his younger brother, says he “Wasn’t like that before he went overseas.”
My mother, now deceased, said the same. Growing up, I felt that he was distant, and I was often unsure of our relationship.
Shattered city buildings appeared in Spielberg’s film, and I thought of a book I had at home. The book’s cover shows a watercolor soldier in front of a decimated town. On the soldier’s uniform is a round shoulder patch showing a white ax splitting a white rail silhouetted on a red background. The book is “The Battle of Germany” by Lt. Theodore Draper, and it chronicles exploits of the 84th Infantry in World War II. The book has come with my family through two corporate moves, and for over 20 years I’ve intended to read it.
A few nights after seeing the film, I found my father’s book in a cupboard in my workroom. Besides the hardcover history, there was an insert summarizing the division’s actions, and there was a lengthy roster of soldiers. I scanned the roster’s pages until I found “Crain, Jesse B., Sgt….Taylors, S.C.” listed under Company E, 335th Infantry.
As I thumbed through the tattered and yellow pages of the booklet, I found a paragraph: “After cleaning up Krefeld, the 335th took Moers and swept on to the Rhine. Co. E was the first division unit to reach the river bank.”
Most of the paragraph was underlined in blue ink, and I felt sure that my father had done it. That was the only inscription I found in any of the three documents. I felt glad that my father’s few blue ink lines indicated a pride I seldom saw.
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7 comments:
Wonderful insight of the love and understanding only a son would know.
This is a poignant account, filled with subtle emotion--and a patriotism I wish were more widespread. I think many have forgotten the cost of our fathers' generation.
cookeclan wrote:
My father came back from Korea the same way, never talking about his combat experiences and never shaking that nervous anxiety.
He was a deeply committed Christian who loved his country, his family and his church, and in spite of the angst, his life was a testimony of our Lord’s healing grace.
July 4, 10:38 am | [comment link]
2. Baruch wrote:
I’m one of the Korean vets, we’re are starting to get thin on the ground too. War never changes, the weapons do, but not those who carry them. For the infantryman heat or cold, mud or dust, and the living and the dead. That egg was a treasure and in every war that ever was it was the same.
July 4, 12:05 pm | [comment link]
3. RevK wrote:
My father and I both saw SPR within a week of each other, ironically on opposite coasts. We discussed the movie on the phone and how it related to our own war experiences - this was the first time in fifty years of my life that we had talked in depth about combat. We decided that Spielberg did a pretty good job except for two things. First, a firefight generates a lot of smoke. While this would thwart the cameraman, it is a fact of combat. The second is the smell. Other than that, SPR mirrored some of our experiences. It also bridged a great gap between us and gave me an even greater appreciation for his service in Europe, Korea and Vietnam - Distinguished Service Cross, two Purple Hearts, two Silver Stars, three Bronze Stars, five Legions of Merit, seventeen Air Medals, Distinguished Flying Cross - all earned in combat. Like the author’s father, my father kept all that ‘stuff’ in a drawer and was very reluctant to discuss it with me - until we had a common touch point (combat) and a vehicle which with to discuss it (SPR). As I hope you can tell, I honor his (quiet) service and have a greater appreciation and love than words can express.
Baruch - thank you for your service to our country.
I Enjoyed your story. I am also a "Rail Splinter", and we have a lot in common. My father was Clarecne Smith, 84th div., 335th Reg., 2nd Battalion HQ Compnay, Anti-Tank Crew.
If you read, Drapers book and Don Edwards book who also served in Co. E you will see that my dad was most often in support of Co. E with his gun. My Dad joined the 84th in January, 1942, did basic at Camp Howze, trained at Camp claiborne and weent overseas on the Sterling Castle.
He spent three weeks driving for the Red Ball Express and rejoined the 84th on the Siegfried Line. Yes he was at Moers, Germany and went all of the way to the Elbe and served in occupation until 12-1945.
One story that he told even though he didn't talk much about the war was having his gin set up at a road junction just outside of Marche. His gun was destroyed and several of his crew were casualties, when a tiger tank attacked his location. He and Whit Garcia, proceeded to put the tank out of commision with a bazooka round. This incident is mentioned briefly in Drapers book.
On one of my business trips to Belgium, I visited this location near Waha, just south of Marche. The Belgiums have placed a plaque thanking the men of the 84th, Co. E for stoppoing the Germans at that junction.
My wife and I are planning a trip back to Germany next October to do family genealogy and to see the places where the 84th fought and died.
It's always a pleasure for me to be in contact with those Americans who want to keep the memory of "The Greatest Generation" from being forgotten.
My wife and I are currnetly retired and are living on near Charleston, S.C.
Jerry Smith
Steve/Others:
I am doing research leading to a Ph.D. at Arkansas State University. My subject is Camp Claiborne, Louisiana. My father, John H. Cazort (Cn-335) and his good friend, John T. Hartness (HQ-335)were Railsplitters. I never knew either one, but want to highlight the 84th in the final dissertation. Any information you or any veterans will share would be appreciated.
Thank you, Richard Hartness
My father was in the 335th co E of the 84th division. He did not make it to the Elbe. He was wounded in January near a town called Samree, Belgium. He got a head wound while on patrol. He spent time at camp Clayborn in Louisiana and sailed to England on the Sterling Castle.
My father was in the 335th company E. I believe he was a scout. He did not make it to the Elbe. He was wounded on Feb 11 1945 near a town called Samree. He met my mother in Heerlen, Limburg, NL in November 1944, just after her town was liberated. When he was wounded he was leading a platoon and was hit by artillery pieces and sustained a head wound. He survived and was ultimately transfered to Wales for surgery and then to the US. He wrote to my mother for 7 years before they were married in Heerlen on July 4 1951. My mother died a few years ago, but my father is living in an assisted living facility. He was quiet about the war until I began doing genealogy and started taping them.. He is remarkably healthy given what he went through
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