Curt Walthall
Company B
144th Infantry Regiment

It was cold that Armistice Day in 1940 and Company B, 144th Infantry was parading for the last time in Fort Worth, Texas.

Company B and other components of the 36th Infantry Division, and the 56th Calvary Brigade, all Texas National Guard units, marched up Main Street to the Tarrant County Court House and with two left turns, then down Houston Street to the Texas and Pacific depot. Along the route at 1100 hours we paused to honor the dead of World War I. Veterans of that war, watching the parade, shed tears as we seemed to be marching straight out of 1918 wearing khaki NP breeches, wool shirts, campaign hats, wrap leggins, and the re-soled hand-me-down high top shoes from the regular army.

Our fingers, clasped around the butt plates of 1903 Springfield rifles, turned as blue as the T-Patches on our left sleeves as we marched to the music of the 111th Medical Regiment Band. In two short weeks we would cease to be citizen-soldiers as we were scheduled to be mobilized for federal service on November 25th.

As usual we marched behind Troop A and B, 124th Cavalry Regiment, with an occasional loose wrap leggin dragging through the horse manure.

We thought our position in the line of march was decreed by the fact that this city was still referred to as "Cowtown," but actually it was because of army tradition.

Other units marching that day were: Headquarters Detachment, 1st Battalion, Headquarters, and Service Company, 144th Infantry Regiment; Company D, the band, and Headquarters, and Service Company, 111th Medical Regiment; Battery B, and Headquarters Battery, 1st Battalion, 133rd Field Artillery Regiment.

We were not aware at the time that this was the 144th Infantry’s last parade in Fort Worth. Had we known, we might have marched a little more proudly, and kept our lines straighter, so the old home town would remember us as a great marching unit. We did march pretty good for a group of weekend-warriors in loose-fitting World War I uniforms as we were already in this year of 1940 veterans of nearly 60 drills and three weeks of tough training in the Louisiana Maneuvers.

A small army of carpenters were hastily building Camp Bowe at Brownwood, but we remained at home stations until January 1941. Several hundred men of the 144th could not all live in the two-story armory, and there was a shortage of pyramidal tents. (Factories were working overtime on this and other supply problems which erased the last vestiges of the long depression years). The Army chose to billet some of the freshly mobilized troops in the small hotels on lower main street. This presented a problem as these hotels also housed girls of ill repute and being many years before the sexual revolution, coed barracks were frowned upon. Army Regulations did cover this situation and the girls were moved to the top floor, which was immediately put off-limits to the troops. Experience dictated that a few would violate the regulations, and possibly the girls, so a pro station was thoughtfully installed in the ground floor latrine and the 111th medics were able to start their basic training at these locations.

Some of the purer troops complained of having to sleep in rooms formerly occupied by these girls as the odors of their dime-store perfume remained. Later, at Brownwood, girls living in small hotels would present a problem, especially on payday, and the Provost Marshal solved the problem by stationing MPs outside Me hotels. Not to keep the troops away, but to keep the waiting lines straight. Some of these girls from Fort Worth, already experts- on army regulations, transferred their business site to Brownwood.

Company B erected a mess tent across from the Armory on the Texas and Pacific RR reservation and the chow line soon became a quagmire. A local contractor donated bricks and First Sergeant Bryan G. Chick found some "volunteers" to make a sidewalk. One artistic GI even fashioned a B Company emblem from the bricks.

We maneuvered and did close order drill within hearing distance of the local business organizations on Lancaster Street and the hundreds of passing motorists. The train crew always waved to us as they passed by and one of those frequent wavers, J.T. Hitt, joined us at Camp Bowie in the first load of "draftees". We were cautioned to call them "selectees."

One rainy day in January, the GI’s checked out of their hotels, struck a few tents, loaded first the kitchen and supply equipment, then themselves on 1˝ ton trucks and traveled out Camp Bowie Blvd. (appropriately enough as this was the site of the 36th Division’s training camp in WWI) towards Brownwood. There were no bands, nor public clamor—just a few tearful wives, girl friends, and mothers waving damp handkerchiefs after departing troops. The kerchiefs dampened as much by the steady rain as the trickling tears.

Officially the 144th Infantrymen were to be gone for a year, but for many it was five. For others it was forever.