From his Dream Lake office, surrounded by awards and honors bestowed on him after World War II, N. Bruce Howe, 83, talked about his years with the U.S. Army's 839th Ordinance Depot (Combat). He was homesick for Winona Lake, where he grew up, each and every day.

"It's a dreadful thing to leave home knowing you're going overseas. It was torture for me to leave home," said he of his forced trip to Europe. Homer Rodeheaver was among those who saw Howe to the station.

"I left home June 3, 1943, and served until Nov. 10, 1945. Our basic training was in Tennessee, and I got in trouble right away.'My serial number is three, triple five, sixty-five hundred. In basic training the drill sergeant said, 'Do you know your serial number, private?' I said, 'Yeah, three, triple five, sixty-five hundred.'"

The drill sergeant wasn't happy until he said, "Three, five, five, five, six, five, zero, zero."

"He finally said, 'That's better."

From New York, Howe crossed the sea in a convoy that included his "Liberty" troop ship. Hitting rough weather, the trip that should have taken nine days turned into a 16 day crossing.

"And I was sick 17 days. We went back and forth to avoid submarines. Cables were all over the decks and we sat on the floor to eat."

Disembarking at Cardiff, Wales, troops went through Ireland and Scotland and finally arrived in London, May 14, 1944, where they lived in pup tents. The camp stretched as far as the eye could see. Thousands of soldiers waited for the invasion of Normandy.

Howe and his company hit France at Omaha Beach a few days after the first wave of Allies arrived. He belonged to the Gypsy Outfit, having been assigned to the Second Army, then the Third Army, then the First Army and back to the Third.

"After we crossed through Paris, we were in the Ninth. Then we were attached to the First Army again and switched to the Ninth Army again, until the war's end.

"Omaha Beach was tough. I can remember very well the low-flying bombers dropping bombs.

"Then we went on to St.-Lo. We got in a minefield. We lost two lieutenants and eight enlisted men; 14 were injured. I was a first sergeant by then.

"I took one platoon in to save the ones who were injured. And to bring out the dead. For that we received the Soldier's Medal."

In 1971 a member of Howe's company visited Brittany Cemetery in Manchi, France. He sent Howe a photograph of Lt. Jerome Berman's cross. Beyond this burial place are acres of other grave markers.

"To me, the real heroes of the war are the ones lying under those white crosses," Howe said. "Over 400,000 were killed and 600,000 were wounded in World War II. As we sit here and talk, there's a World War II veteran dying, at the rate of 1,100 each day. Too many are still over there."

His European theatre ribbon has five bronze stars, which meant he participated in all five battles. Howe also has a copy of the company's complete history and a desk scattered with patches and insignia from the Gypsy Company's travels.

"I could retrace every step," he said, paging through the detailed document. "For years, most veterans of World War II didn't talk about it. It still hurts."

The company went through a liberated Paris and was met with flowers, cheering and waving flags.

The ordnance supply depot rarely reached the front lines, but soldiers came back to them to take things to the front. They ran out of gas while Gen. George Patton's Third Army was chasing the Germans through Belgium, and "Patton was mad about the delay. He wanted to stay on the backs of the Germans.

"We were supposed to be light combat; we heard a lot of firing, I know I lost some hearing in one ear. You were always anxious to go forward; always afraid if you had to.

"The Bulge was tough. During aerial attacks, the bombers let loose buzz bombs (V-1s). When they shut off, you knew they were coming down, coming down to explode.

"It was cold at the Battle of the Bulge. We didn't eat except for K-rations, when we could get them. There was no shaving, no showering or changing clothes for two weeks. I finally shaved out of my steel helmet. Around Dec. 17, the Germans began a push at the Bulge. Coming on with Sherman tanks in the lead, they scared U.S. troops so much they fled back west, broken by fear.

On Dec. 20, the 839th was ordered to retreat, too, 16 miles to Lige, Belgium, where they stayed until the end of the battle.

"Blood and guts" Patton was having none of it, though, and in two days broke through the Germans' southern supply lines, turning the tide in the Ardennes region.

Howe and company crossed the Rhine on a temporary pontoon bridge and headed south to Munich, "terrible with the concentration camps and bodies."

At the Bremmer Pass in the Alps, the company heard the war was over.

"I saw killing. I saw a lot of things I wouldn't even talk about today. Some of the things I saw there, it still hurts to talk about."

Howe was part of the Occupation Army in Germany, finally reaching New York, Oct. 28, 1945.

"The thing that sticks in my mind, that meant so much to me, was the barge that met the liner, the ship we were on. It came out into the harbor and a band played 'The Star Spangled Banner.'

"I don't know what else to say except, war is terrible. I'm glad that I served. I was discharged at Camp Atterbury Nov. 10. I was finally coming home to my family and a town I love to this day, Winona Lake."

Howe married a widow, Ann, with four children in 1954.

Two years later, he pulled two brothers, Dale and Jay Benser, out of a burning house while serving as the Winona Lake fire chief. He received a Meritorious Service medal from then-Gov. Robert Orr for that action in 1988. [[In-content Ad]]