We were sort of outcasts, living on 10-in-1 rations and a meal from the company once in awhile. We did our cooking on a big stove in the house with some pots and pans we gathered up around town.

     We had a pretty good life. Each day three or four fellows would have to check booby traps and mines we had between the lines. Since things were pretty quiet there wasn't much to do. We took turns going back to company headquarters each day to pick up mail and anything else that was needed.

     Then came Thanksgiving. Company sent us up rations for dinner including three or four frozen turkeys, with no instruction as to how we would get them cooked. We and Lt. Henderson got our heads together as to what to do. We started a search of houses to see what could be found.

     The best we came up with was a couple big wash tubs. We started scrubbing with GI soap until they looked pretty clean. We then found some boards which were cut to fit the bottom of the tubs. This was to keep the turkeys off the bottom.

     The turkeys were put in and partly covered with water, set on the stove, and left to cook - steam cooked that is.

     I don't remember what we covered the tubs with. Everything worked real good. When finished we had quite a dinner put together. We set up tables in one large room of the house and everything looked good.

     Everyone gathered around for Thanksgiving dinner. As you know, some of the chow hounds jumped right in. We had a big old platoon sergeant who was a loudmouth. He yelled, "Don't you damn guys have any manners at all? The preacher here wants to say a few words before we eat."

     The preacher was an ordained minister, older than the rest of us. (Sorry to say he was killed on our attempt to cross the Danube.) He gave a prayer and everyone had a great meal.

     There are not many of us left to remember that Thanksgiving. It has stayed in my mind as one of the better memories of things that happened out there.