On terra firma once more, we immediately were confronted by children of all forms and shapes yelling that famous welcome call heard round the world: "Heh, Johnnie, cigarettes, shokolot, bon bon". We walked the length of the pier, on which was erected a long wall built in 1940 to honor those Frenchmen who had lost their lives when the British Air Force attacked the French Navy in the harbor of Oran. It was difficult for the French people to forget that action. In fact, their good memory made it tougher for the first wave to invade Oran. In error, an Allied battleship, which was flying the British flag instead of an American one, was fired upon, and 800 American boys on board lost their lives. The American cemetery in Oran tells a more picturesque story.
We walked the length of Mers-el-Kebir to Oran, five miles away, and then another ten miles to our bivouac area. The fatigue of the hike was forgotten when we had an opportunity to observe the ways and actions of these so-called "uncivilized" people from Africa. To our surprise and amazement, many of them had civilized habits and word civilized and conventional modes of dress. The women wore attractive print dresses and small hats which were the vogue in New York the previous spring. The men's suits caught many a G.I. eye as they passed by. It was here that we first saw that famous Arab with a spotlessly clean towel wrapped around his head in turban fashion and a snow-white sheet around his body. His undergarments and body, however, seemed as if they hadn't been washed since the last war.
Between Mers-el-Kebir and Oran stands an engineering accomplishment of which Americans could well be proud, a tunnel through the mountains which reminds the New Yorker of the Holland Tunnel. Our bivouac area was a former Arab farm, full of broken glass and chinaware. Needless to says, we policed the area, a habit which the native population could not understand. Perhaps they thought that we were trying to look for something. But, they know that we could never find anything of value in Africa.
After two good days of fair weather, we were introduced to the African rainy season which was not mentioned in the booklet we had received on the boat. It rained continuously for one whole week, during which we improved on the Army system of tent-pitching and drainage. When we dried off, we visited the town of Oran, then just changing over from the German to the American way of doing business, namely, taking articles rather than paying for them. The Arabs, however, also had "taking" ways. From early childhood, they had been taught to steal. In fact, we had quite a time with them at the American cemetery in Oran. A guard had to be stationed there day and night to prevent the Arabs from stealing the blankets which were wrapped around the dead. One evening, the commanding officer of the guard gave orders to shoot anyone who was seen prowling around the cemetery at night. The next morning, 18 Arabs were found dead in the cemetery. The Arabs understood that language. The guards were never bothered again.
Hotel Continental was the main exclusive eating place in Oran where an excellent meal could be purchased for one dollar. Hot showers were available for 20 cents only after waiting in line for three hours. It was difficult to purchase any goods in town as we soon realized that the Germans had been there and had taken everything with them. This was Oran during the early days of the North African campaign.
Later in the year, we moved to an Arab town five miles southeast of Oran, Tafaruie, which was situated near La Senia airport, the first large airfield taken by the Americans after they captured Oran. It was at this airport where Germans had armed their French prisoners before they fled and instructed them to resist the Americans. Instead, the French soldiers shot their former captors as they attempted to leave the field. Rain and more rain made it necessary for us to perfect a better drainage and rainproof tent system than the army had taught us. The various experiments which we attempted during these early days served us in good stead when the rainy season arrived the following month. It was here where American airpower began to have itself felt on the enemy. Day and night, formations of bombers and fighters continually filled the skies, a fact which bolstered our morale to a very great extent.
The greatest morale-builder of them all, mail from home, began to arrive late in December and once more we had contact with "the outside world". Christmas was slowly approaching and as a Yuletide gift, we were permitted to send a letter home which was guaranteed to arrive in New York before Christmas Day. It actually arrived on January 19th, one week after our cable which we sent in November. Those were the days when communication facilities were at a premium.
One of the more pleasant memories of Africa was the picturesque scene of the setting sun descending over a nearby hill, with an occasional Arab silhouetted against the sky sitting on and kicking his donkey, and with the moon and stars brilliantly shining in the other part of the sky. It reminded me of the Christmas cars with the Star of Bethlehem in the distance.
Christmas Day found us perched between an ancient Arab and a modern French town near the Moroccan border, the latter famous as a resort during peacetime. Its official name was Tlemcen. The Arab village was called Saf Saf. We were treated most cordially by its citizens who supplied us with the French version of "short snorts". This area was characterized by its mud, rain and snow. It rained without a break for seventeen days, and then it snowed before the sun came out some time in January. It was a strange sensation for many a G.I., who had been training under a hot Florida sun for over a year, to dig himself out of a pup-tent which was completely covered with snow. During this time, however, these were no cases of illness among the men, a most amazing condition. We were convinced that the injections which we had received had a great deal to do with the health of the troops during these miserable days. Most of the day (and night) was spent bailing out the trenches around our tents as the heavy rains were more than enough for the drainage systems which we thought originally to be sufficient. Between the bailing out periods, we built stone walks, dug latrines through solid rock, built roads, pitched ward tents and tried to peg them into solid stone, a project which was not very successful.
New Year's Eve was spent in our pup-tents huddled under six blankets, several sets of underwear, uniforms and overcoats, thinking of the days when a New Year's Eve party was an event rather than a memory. Originally set up (we thought) to handle casualties in the event of a German surprise attach through Spain and into Africa, we had very little work to do and, for the time being, we were "sweating out" a call to the front. This "sweating out" period ended when, in early January 1943, we were ordered to tear down and crate for our trip into the theater of operations. This was accomplished during another rainy spell, after which time, for two weeks of very beautiful weather, we waited for our transportation to arrive.
The American Army had met resistance for the first time and we realized that we would have a difficult job to wrest the remainder of Africa from the enemy. Although we knew that the future was going to be difficult and dangerous, there was no one who did not look forward to that memorable trip to the front. Our spirits were high and our morale excellent. The Ninth Evac was ready.
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