Dog Battery, 455th AAA, 1 Sept. 1945

By nature a quiet group of men, 'D' Battery takes this opportunity to blow its rusty, beaten-up horn. From its beginning back in October 1942 when "Iron Duke" Barth and "Simon Lagree" Cloy tried to tame the backwoods men from Tennessee and parts south, 'D' Battery has played and important part in the history of the 455h.
To this Battery goes the questionable honor of originating the name which today tags ewvery man who is a faithful, duty-bound member of the 'Team'. It all happened on the first athletic afternoon held behind the barracks at Camp Stewart. After many futile attempts to hold their footing during the hotly contested foot races a voice first asked, then a clamor demanded, "Why can't we take off our shoes like we used to when hunting rabbits?" "Shelter Half" Batchelder forgot his usual GI self and said "Why not?" Off came the shoes and the result will be believed only by those who witnessed the sight of dozens of men scampering over the green turf, their 'lil white feet scarcely touching the ground. From that time 'till now, despite a few different interpretations, members of the 'Team' have been known as 'RABS'.

'D' Btry first made itself known as a power among its sister batteries as "Home Run" Baker, by reason of some neat work with ivories, skyrocketed the war bond sales to astronomical figures. A streak of bad luck and "Little Chaplain" Miller finally caught up with "Home Run". Key men lost during this period to OCS were ably replaced by such stalwarts as "Daddy" Bensky, "Brow" Argorgast, and the "Bull Dog" Mascis.Before leaving Stewart and walking off with the firing honors and a close victory in the final battle of the PX, the battery lost an assortment of true "RABS" - "Pappy" Noe, "Boob" Redden, Frank Grannel, "Old Jim" Woods, "Johnny" Medley and "Freight Train" Red, to mention but a few.

The D Battery "RABS" had a little difficulty in getting their sights adjusted on the Fernandino Range prior to the Benning trip, but made up for the mediocre firing with boundless enthusiasm. Reep caused more than a slight commotion the night he mistook the "Duke's" pup then for his own, and also on the lastday a final check for a missing "RAB" disclosed his hiding place beneath 15 barack bags.

The trip to Benning was uneventful except for "Robey" McClure's 26 foot jump from a speeding mess truck which threatened to blow up any minute, and Lang's "RAB" march from the center of Cordell, Georgia, back to the ball diamond where the "Iron Duke" was waiting for his charges.

The Army didn't furnish the "RABS" with sufficient athletic equipment, but did that stop them? "HELL NO!" They just went out on Gordon field at goold old Fort Benning and hammered each other at tackle football. The return to Stewart with the Armored Patch on our shoulders was like going back to the minor league and giving a few lessons. Even the veterans from Panama were taken in, and beat a path to the "Team's" office asking for admittance to such a rugged outfir. Despite having to sleep in pup tents out in the brush, the "RABS" were close enough to camp to even a few scores with a certain outfit. Broadfoot soon forgot his wade in the slit trench as he anticipated our entrance on to the range. The big day finally came and D Battery, after barely missing on the first few courses, ripped the targets to shreds just as Major General Newgarden, CG of the 10th Armored Division, fresh from a plane trip from Benning, stepped up to his ack-ack in action. he was more than satisfied. The team had passed its first test and was now a heartily accepted member of the 10th.

Back to Benning and days of running with nothing more on than shorts, shoes, and the "Duke's" little joke steel helmets, D Battery was ready. "Grits and Gravy" Jeffords had built his bridge and incinerator, "Jess" Searle had his "Team" of "Snag", "Hook" and "Cotton" hitting on all fours. "pinky" Pickney had just about run the life out of the communications vehicle going into Columbus on test runs - and incidentally to see his wife. "Benny" Goodman had put his violin away and was saying goodbye to the better half. "Tex" Richardson was trying to keep his love life straight. "Honest Fred" Sievers, who never stole a box ear, was still putting on weight via the mess hall with its cold milk and tomato sandwiches. The "Iron Duke" was in excellent spirits at the prospects of being shot at. And "yogle Ogle" King had finally hit high "C", and could be heard two miles against the wind when "Sounding Off".

One final field trip: this time to Albany, Georgia, where we displayed our varied assortment of equipment to the Air Corps. A few of the "RABS" were unfortunate in rceiving one of "Duke's" special haircuts, but the abundance in watermelon and ice cream soon made them forget their plight . Ernest Box, the paint expert, gained himself a handful of new girl friends by throwing his address out of the rear of a two and one half ton truck on the way back to Benning.

As had happened before, the return to Benning and the old stamping ground near a PX brought out the best in the "RABS". Flushed by recent successes on field problems and firing ranges, the "RABS" entered the paratroop area confident and ready to battle for a rightful place in the beer line. Though outnumbered, two fisted Rabs held their own against the strudy paratroopers and finally came to peace terms - after the PX was closed.

One more move at Benning put the Rabs back in the same roach infested quarters at Gordon Field. Then one day a battalion formation beneath a beautiful Georgia sun at high noon - The Chief Rab rose - A hush fell over all the "RABS" and out came those memorable words, "Men, we're hot". A few days later we were on the train, carrying our sick and wounded along with us. Even Wallace Monette went down for the count. Some thought it was the effects of the heat - other wiser Rabs shook their heads and said, "If you were carrying the of lettuce he's relieved the boys of you also would be in similar shape".

What a disappointment Camp Shanks was for the "Rabs". They had pictured flat country with cities everywhere, but what did they find - nothing but hills.

D Btry "RABS" would rather forget the trip over the Atlantic. "Bean Belly" Vogt, by actual count, laid in his sack for one continuous 48 hour periodwithout uttering a word. The only bright spot was clipping a few rations from the hold. Fate had played the "Battery Rabs" a dirty deal, for at the height of the storm, up came our turn for KP.

Once they got to Kettering, the Rabs again hit their stride. The "Iron Duke" was happy, the "RABS" were happy as they jumped the wall to freedom, and life was not so bad after all. The mud hole at Watton soon changed our minds, but a few forced marches into town with Land at our head quenched the thrist, and provided a few introductions. Incidentally, the "RABS" had not forgotten their weapons on the trip over and soon were working like mad to complete gun positions.

No. 5's gun position, upon request of the "Iron Duke", had to remove a three year accumulation of manure in order to provide room for the gun crew's quarters. Fortunately this section was blessed by numbering among its members some good dirt farmers - Turner, Eubanks, Vinson and Devers doing the heavy work and actually enjoying it. Occasional trips by the "RABS" soon put them in solid at Pop's place and the "NOT WANTED" sign was hung out to the Engineers and Air Corps. "Owl" Murphy and Vinson were among the favored few who could use the back entrance.

And so life went on at the Griston airport with few incidents to upset our training. "Bottle" moore tried to use his head as an entrenching tool in one of the culverts following a fall from his bike; "Slew Foot" Eubanks fell in love with "Half Crown"; the "Iron Duke" beat the concrete to a pulp with his daily runs; "Home" Hill led the parade at No. 6 in the cradle-snatching league; the "Duke" finally nailed "Node" Patruska resting his eyes at No. 2; and the 'lil "RABS" were doinmg an excellent job of clipping the Air Corps' coal.

Time is running short now as it was then in England. From Watton we went down to Blandford for a few weeks of mobile training and then up to Stiffkey for firing. The assignment to the B-26 base at Silver Inn came next as did cooking at the gun positions which was at first a novelty, but soon became hard work. Fianlly our alert orders came through and waterproofing became a reality at Orchard Leigh. The move to Dorchester convinced us that what the Chief Rab had said one year previous was now becoming a fact. Despite losing a few nick nacks like 40 mm's, two and one half ton trucks and 51s while landing at Utah Beach we assembled as the first complete Team Battery in France after bagging a couple of weapons from B Battery.

We went into position near La Haye Du Puits, then down through Avranches, Rennes and finally behind the 7th Armored where we really moved across France. We were gaining confidence depsite the shaky start and were ready for the race to the German border. The First Platoon went with the 558th FA Bn. and the Second Platoon along with Btry Hdqs went with the 695th FA Bn. At Verdun we again became a Battery, this time under a new B.C., Henry Burroughs. From then on we had assignments with heavy artillery, the 739, 736, 270, 733, 734 FA Bns., only to mention a few. Our big days were Christmas and New Years when D Btry "RABS", now veterans, gave the Luftwaffe a shellacking. We bagged a total of 21 Cat. 1s and 2s and got one third of all the Buzz Bombs credited to the thrid Army.

After a second try at crossing the Saar we gained sufficient momentum to carry us all the was to Pöcking. We even found time to hammer out a couple of softball wins for beaucoup marks. From Pöcking we came north, stopping off for three short stays till we hid Dingolfing. Who would have even thought the we "RABS" would be wearing MP helmets? But like all other challenges, we have just shrugged our shoulders and said, "What the Hell, the Team has done everything else in the Army so why not be a cop for awhile?" So now we rest blissfully here in Dingolfing waiting for that trip with only a few questions on our minds: "When is 'Sara B.' Alsbrook going to get his teeth?" And, "who in Hell broke that toilet seat down at the Fernandia beer joint?"