James Gardner Erickson
Company E, 141st Infantry

Because of his dangerous occupation, the frontline G.I. sometimes discussed the philosophical issues of survival and extinction. I personally had become a lifetime atheist when I was about twelve years old. The death, destruction and chaos of war only reinforced my disbelief. However, there was one fellow in our squad who I remember only as "The Fatalist". He often said that "as long as your number wasn’t up you would survive. There was nothing to worry about." I asked him one day that if that was true, how come he dug his holes so deep? I had bettered him in this argument so he became very hostile toward me.

It was June, 1944, and we were dug in on a hill north of Rome. One could see the wheat fields on the gently rolling land for miles, and toward the east stretched the shallow Ombrone River. That morning four wiremen came near where I was dug in. They were laughing and joking like they were taking a walk in the sun. I warned them that the hill was under fire and that they should move fast and get down. At that instant, three eighty-eight shells exploded within a few seconds of each other. My hole was filled with smoke and shrapnel whined all over the place but I was not hurt. Three of the wiremen were killed instantly. In a few minutes some medics came, threw a blanket over the faces of the dead, and rushed the fourth victim away in a stretcher.

I stuck my head up and there was "The Fatalist" looking at me from behind a low stone wall. He remarked, "Erickson, I thought they got you!" The point of this anecdote is that after all of these many long years, I still remember the feeling of profound disappointment in his voice.