Learning about myself
through my family’s past | PART II
Last week I wrote about my grandmother and what a badass she was. This week, it’s my grandfather’s turn.
A quick recap.
In the envelope my dad sent me, he included a few things about my grandparents. In addition to the letter he wrote to me, the envelope contained my grandmother’s autobiography, a newspaper article written about my grandfather in 1981, and his records from the National Personnel Records Center.
The article.
They don’t let the stories fade
By Ed Todd | Staff Writer
I couldn’t figure out exactly which newspaper this article lived in, but I know it was written June 28, 1981.
R.L. “Bob” Corley is a grateful old soldier who served in the war under a genteel “old man” he respected.
Corley was 18 or 19. The “old man” was 28.
“I’ve known men who actually did their damn duty,” Corley said with an air of seasoned adulation.
One of those men, Corley is dead sure, is his old battalion commander on the French and German battlefront in 1944 and 1945 in World War II.
For the first time in 36 years, Corley, now 55, and his old commander, retired U.S. Army Col. George Spiegel, now 64, were united late last week in Corley’s Midland home. They had “re-fought” the war by telephone in recent years but not in person.
“I know men today who are fathers and grandfathers because of the way the colonel conducted himself” in battle, Corley said. They survived.
For that and his bravery and for Corley’s heightening admiration for the commander, Corley, now a Midland oil operator who was the colonel’s radio operator more than 36 years ago, recommended the colonel for the Distinguished Service Cross and the Legion of Merit.
An affidavit, dated July 4, 1973, to that effect is recorded in the Midland County Clerk’s Office.
“THE PENTAGON will lose it if I know the federal bureaucracy,” Corley said of his reasoning for filing the document in the Midland County Courthouse. “Or I’d lose it, so it’s in the courthouse on file.”
Though he didn’t bother to mention it, the then Pvt. Corley was awarded a medal for his “courage under fire” and for being an “inspiration to the officers and men of his unit.” As a radio operator for the battalion commander and burdened by the weight of his radio equipment, Corley was “frequently singled out by snipers.”
But his own actions mattered not.
“I was the radio operator,” reflected the brazen Corley, who is in marked contrast with the more reticent and reserved Spiegel. “I was the guy carrying the thing (radio)…that was sniper bait.”
The radio man was always close at hand to the commander, who was a prime target for both snipper and machine gun fire. The radio at times was fickle. “The damn thing didn’t work half the time.”
“WE GOT MORE forward than was commensurate with good health,” Corley said with the hearty laugh of a grateful survivor.
The private was and still is proud of his colonel. He related involved tales, flashing incidents and detailed scenarios.
The colonel, now a retired schoolteacher from Champaign, Ill., couldn’t recall all of what Corley’s vivid memory reflected.
“He’s telling me things I don’t remember,” said the modest graying colonel.
“We were pretty lucky,” said the ex-radio operator. “We had a lot of close calls. The colonel had a bunch.”
“I don’t remember,” said the commander. “I must have blacked them out.
Corley tried to refresh his memory, and often did. And both well knew that the war-time perspectives by the commander and his radio man are not always the same.
Corley, the drafted enlisted man, is keen on the colonel.
The colonel, not quite so intensely, somewhat remembers the tagging-along radio man.
“He remembers me as a skinny, little scared kid with a radio on his back,”surmised Corley, who figured that the colonel probably has “very little” memory of him.
The colonel nodded.
“He had 1,000 men to fool with,” explained Corley.
The colonel was commander of the 2nd Battalion of the 399th Infantry Regiment of the 100th Infantry Regiment of the 100th Infantry Division of the Seventh Army in France and Germany.
“World War II was fought with battalion,” said Corley, who’s convinced now more than before that the colonel was one “helluva” commander, though he was “not an exciting, gung-ho character.”
“The battalion commander was the ultimate field officer who went out and risked his butt…continuously day after day,” Corley said.
In his affidavit, Corley swore that his commander “carefully planned every assignment, especially with proper artillery support, so that said assignment, either offensive or defensive, was performed with a minimum…loss of life…”
Corley recalled one incident in which the colonel refused to advance his riflemen until they had artillery support.
“He told the general that the war was going to wait, because this battalion is not moving until we get corps artillery, sir!”
“I know it cost him something, but he didn’t give a damn.” Corley said the colonel was thinking of accomplishing the mission while formulating the best advantage for his troops. “He had his reasons, and it worked.”
WHEN HE WROTE the affidavit eight years ago, Corley didn’t know if the colonel was “alive or dead.” But even then, he characterized Col. Spiegel as “self-effacing, modest, dedicated, but tough as a West Texas cowboy’s moleskin boot.”
“He was taciturn, not given to flamboyance; consequently, he sometimes did not get the credit he deserved from publicity-hunting (but not enemy-hunting) rear echelon officers.”
The colonel could hardly deny his modest and even-temperedness. But on the battlefield and frontline, his commands might not be black-tie etiquette.
“We couldn’t say ‘Please,’” in issuing commands, the colonel said. “We couldn’t do it in my committee.” Now, the private remembers the colonel’s orders in this spirit: “Maybe we better do” such and such in attacking, counter-attacking, digging in or moving out.
AFTER WORLD WAR II, the colonel returned to the States, then served under Gen. Douglas MacArthur in American-occupied Japan in the late 1940s and early 1950s and was an adviser in Korea during the Korean Conflict. He then received a stateside assignment as head of the Infantry ROTC (Reserved Officers’ Training Corps) at the University of Illinois in the mid-1950s, retired from the military in 1961, and starting teaching grammar school at Champaign, Ill., in 1962.
He was prepared for teaching.
“That’s exactly what we do (in the military),” the colonel said. “Officers teach men to go out and kill or be killed.”
There seemed to be a certain endearment between the private and colonel. They agreed on many — but not all — things, especially from the military viewpoint.
They don’t dwell on nostalgia, but give the past its due.
“The army (today) is not like we remember it,” said the colonel. But the private figures the colonel is the same as ever, though somewhat older.
“He was a pretty calm type,” Corley said. “I think he was a good guy. I admired him at the time…thought he did an outstanding job.”
Corley remembers the war as “dangerous, uncomfortable…(sometimes) kind of boring…and disgusting,” and the genteel colonel.
“It’s kind of strange,” he reflected. “You’ve got a few heroes and a few cowards and the rest of them hang in there and best they can.”
I’m blown away. My grandfather was caring but brave, humble but a badass, and inspired others to no end.
The next paper in the envelope: OFFICIAL LIST OF AWARDS
Silver Star
Bronze Star Medal with first oak leaf cluster
Army Commendation Medal with first oak leaf cluster
American Defense Service Medal
American Campaign Medal
European African Middle Eastern Campaign Medal with three bronze service stars
World War II Victory Medal
Ary of Occupation Medal with Germany and Japan clasps
National Defense Service Medal
Korean Service Medal with one bronze service star
Armed Forces Reserve Medal
Combat Infantryman Badge
Untied Nations Service Medal
Honorable Service Lapel Button World War II
Expert Badge with pistol bar
Talk about an over achiever! There were also two write-ups explaining why he received his Silver Star and Bronze Star.
Reasoning for receiving his Silver Star
For gallantry in action on 15 March 1945, in the vicinity of Reyersviller, France. Bring our attack toward Reyersviller, Lieutenant Colonel Spiegel, a battalion commander, assumed a foremost position on Spitzberg Ridge. Our tanks were operating close to enemy positions, and, as one returned to the command post, Lieutenant Colonel Spiegel observed that equipment strapped to the rear of the vehicle was burning and leaving a trail of dense smoke. Realizing the smoke might serve as a base target for hostile artillery and that the fire would in time explode the tank’s gasoline supply, he quickly crossed over to the vehicle, and, although he was completely exposed to hostile observation and intense mortar and small arms fire, he removed the cumbersome, flaming material, and operation which required twenty minutes. As a result of his gallant action, Lieutenant Colonel Spiegel single-handedly eliminated a target for enemy artillery observers, saved the destruction of a valuable vehicle, and undoubtedly saved the tank crew from being trapped inside and burned to death.
Reasoning for receiving his Bronze Star:
For heroic achievement in action during the period 1 November 1944 to 15 January 1945, in ****. As battalion commander, Colonel Spiegel has, by his outstanding leadership and resourcefulness, contributed immeasurably to the success of the troops under his command. Constantly devoting himself to duty and personally supervising all missions, he had led his units to numerous objectives with rapid success despite hazardous terrain and continuous adverse weather conditions. Throughout, his untiring efforts have inspired his officers and men to greater achievement.
Like my grandmother, my grandfather always seemed to put other before himself frequently. I strive to have his “even-temperedness” and calmness. I strive to better myself everyday. I strive to accomplish more.
I feel so incredibly lucky to call these beautiful humans my forebears. I’m so inspired. I can’t wait to see what the future holds for me.
