WINTER, 1943, was playing practical jokes on the 76th Division. Everything was set for a bout with cold weather. From ski cap to snowshoes, every man was primed for snow and blizzards and arctic temperatures. But the snows didn't come and the weather remained obstinately warm. Weeks of mild weather dragged on. It looked like snow maneuvers--without benefit of snow. Then, suddenly, real winter came. On February 15th, 1944, the 304th departed for Watersmeet in two groups-first, the motor elements and attached artillery, led by the regimental commander; finally, the bulk of the regiment, by train.
A trackless woods, knee-deep in powdered snow, greeted the first elements to arrive. Assisted by Division engineers, it was their job to hack out trails through the selected base-camp area and build the camp.

Bulldozers labored through the drifts. Soldiers, turned lumberjacks, felled trees. Huge winter squad-tents were staked into the frozen ground. Overnight, the white woods was transformed into a busy community. Smoke curled from every tent as field kitchens went into operation. Shelters constructed of timber and pine boughs formed primitive but comfortable housing for the men, mushrooming everywhere in the woods, each with its own camp fire. The road the bulldozers had carved might have been there always. This was the base-camp, situated near Bonifas, Michigan. It was invaluable training and an accomplishment to establish an outdoor arctic camp, but that was only part of the job. There was the maneuvers program. Operating from base-camp, the regiment carried out four major exercises, designated as W1, 2, 3 and 4. Utilizing their elaborate winter gear, and moving with the aid of skis, of snowshoes, cargo sleds, and weasels the 304th maneuvered for twenty-eight days in conjunction with CT 417 against CT 385, the other elements of the 76th.
Aside from the strictly, military aspect, the maneuver experience was priceless in many ways. At Watersmeet, the 304th discovered, explored and licked the battle of trench foot. Life for the soldier in the North Woods seemed a continual grind of babying his two feet. Dry socks, dry insoles, dry shoe-pacs became his biggest headache. But it paid off a year later in Luxembourg.

Soldiers of the 304th learned that a meal cooked on a mountain stove and eaten out of doors in freezing weather can be enjoyed as thoroughly as a seven-course gourmet's banquet at the Waldorf. They found that while lying in a snow bank inside their mountain sleeping bags, they could be as snug as in their own beds at home. A soldier, they proved to themselves, could do anything here that he could do in the springtime of Maryland--if he had the equipment and if he inclined to profit by the experience of others. There was even a winter-style regimental review. For the late Lt. Gen. Lesley J. McNair (then chief of Army Ground Forces) the regiment carried out the review on ice-covered Bass Lake. Company after company passed in review, gliding across the pond on snowshoes, skis and mounted on weasels.

A pleasant memory for Watersmeet veterans is the friendly spirit of the Upper Penninsula folk towards troops on pass. Every man in the regiment, coming to town in his parka-topped winter uniform, was an honored guest of these people, who opened their homes, churches and every facility of their villages to the soldier-visitors. Despite all this, after twenty-eight days in the woods, the men were looking forward to warm, heated barracks, not unregretful that their Watersmeet stay was drawing to a close. At Camp McCoy more strenuous activities awaited them!

THE greatest undertaking of the war--the opening of a second front in Western Europe--was imminent. Now, as never before, millions of American infantrymen would be needed for the big push. In April of 1944, the 304th again responded to the call to give of its best manpower for overseas needs. During the spring and summer, hundreds of men, sharply trained after months of highly varied instruction, tough after the winter maneuvers, left their regiment to strengthen other regiments headed for the Normandy invasion coast. To fill their places came men released from the Army Specialized Training Program,

from the Air Corps, from Coast Artillery and AAA outfits. With short, concentrated, incisive training, the regiment went about the task of weaving these men from other branches of the Army into an Infantry organization.
Meanwhile, the regiment was delving into various specialized training of its own. There were air-ground demonstrations, in which the Air Corps participated with many of the latest types of combat fighters and bombers; later came the Corps Air-Ground Tests; every man in the regiment was given an opportunity to qualify for the Expert Infantryman's Badge. And an unusually high percentage passed the tests and received the award.
It was during this summer at Camp McCoy, also, that the regiment's recreational program reached its high point. Never before had baseball and other sports claimed such wide interest among the men. A recreation hall, transformed into a clubhouse, was the setting for a succession of dances and entertainment's. A beer garden with regular entertainment of varied types played to a full house every evening when training did not interfere. The regimental band was spectacular. Mickey Carr's 304th dance band topped all camp orchestras. Here was a clear indication that the regiment had become a highly organized, coordinated body of men.
Summer days sped by. The Western Front became an accomplished fact, and American armies were rolling through France at breakneck speed. The 304th, with as complete preparation as it was humanly possible to achieve, was ripe for combat duty. Soon, marching orders must come. The first hint was dropped in September, when the 304th, as part of the 76th Division, was given the mission of preparing itself technically and physically for overseas movement.
With a fighting assignment around the corner, the regiment set about the task of final readying. Equipment was inventoried and inspected. Personnel underwent complete physical "shakedowns" and hurried to put the loose ends of personal and business affairs in order.
Amongst all the "excursions and alarms" which attended these proceedings, there were other very quiet, unobtrusive and yet all important preparations taking place which never reached "the record" in their fullness--beyond, perhaps, being noted as changes of allotments, of beneficiaries, of powers of attorney, etc. This was the work of Personnel. And at that time there was a small, unofficial group of men who, properly, did not belong in Personnel but who supplemented the work being done. Their task was one of advice--and their function (frequently) almost that of a Father Confessor. (They did, in fact, dovetail with and refer to the Chaplains more frequently perhaps than with any other single unit of the regiment or of division.) All of them were lawyers--and it was this professional knowledge primarily which they placed at the disposal of every man in the regiment in those hectic days through POM and POE--their intimate acquaintance with all those "ounces of prevention which are worth a pound of cure" and which could serve to make a man comfortably at ease in his own mind as to the picture he was leaving behind him when finally he set foot on the deck of the boat. Chief among these were Major Alexander M. Clark (Indiana Bar), Major John F. Pugh (Louisiana Bar), Captain Charles S. Dale (Ohio Bar), T/Sgt. Charles S. Dean (New York Bar) and Sgt. Pincus P. Ettinger (New York Bar). Their work did not even stop when American soil was left behind. It continued into England and France--and Germany. The record does not show the story of the work. But the lives and the futures of many men will always reflect it.

THEN came maneuvers, beginning September 18th and scheduled to continue for thirty days. Since the influx of recruits to the regiment from the ASTP, from the Air Corps, from the Ack-Ack outfits and the myriad of other spots whence all this new blood had been flowing into the veins of the 304th, there had been a number of exercises and short field problems and tests of every description and nature. Then just at the beginning of September a new transfusion had taken place with the arrival of a number of young soldiers out of IRTC. Most of them came to McCoy fresh from their basic at the training centers and the furloughs which had followed. They were in the pink of physical condition. The bloom of their freshly acquired military knowledge and "culture" had had no possible opportunity to brush off. Theoretically, there could be no doubt that they were what was needed to "round out" the regiment.
Maneuvers were supposed to be the "proof of the pudding," not specifically for these men, but for the regiment as a whole. Theoretical conclusions were good but some few weeks in the field would soon enough prove whether or not the premises upon which they were based were true -- or shallow. Far more than that, apart from being a testing ground, maneuvers were also the finest conceivable means of the elimination of faults, should they develop. And the conditions were to be as close to real as they could possibly be.
Medical aid-men were detached from their respective battalion sections and definitely, finally assigned to the companies with which they remained throughout -- even as they were destined to do in battle. All units were to function in precise conformity with this plan--as close to battle as could be without running the risk of loss of life. Live ammunition was packed--and used--for bazookas, MG, M-1, artillery and mortar. Command posts were set to work just as they would in a few short months from now. Personnel was set up in a rear echelon establishment under the same conditions that they too could expect within that space of time. All this was being done within a scant few miles from Camp McCoy and the Camp itself appeared desolate and bare without its usual hum and milling of human activity.

P. O. M.

SUDDENLY all this was cut short. The "pudding had been proven." And it had been proven far beyond the fondest expectations or predictions of the warmest defender of the 304th. What had been true on paper was now more than true in fact. The last "dry run" was actually a thing of the past-although many still refused to place complete belief in that fact. After only two weeks of this maneuvering the regiment was ordered to its home station to complete as soon as possible its final preparations for departure from the United States.
Overnight, the camp became a city of packing boxes. Officers and men kept busy twenty-four hours a day. Train-loads of equipment must be packed. From 105 howitzers to the last pot and pan, everything must be ready. It was a titan's task, but it was done. On November 11th, 1944--Armistice Day--the regiment entrained for the Port of Embarkation, Camp Myles Standish, Massachusetts, and a staging period of ten days.
The Odyssey was under way!