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  •       Although the Third Armored did not liberate Paris, we were on the outskirts, and on August 26, I flew close to the Eiffel Tower. Our division did liberate Melun, a city just south of Paris.There I treated two French nurses to a ride in the Cub. On the day we moved across the Seine from Melun, I encountered heavy fog and was lost for about thirty minutes—real fear and uncertainty.
          The next day at Coulommiers I was attacked by a Messerschmitt and chased down. I could see his tracer bullets shooting by me as I dived down for the ground. I landed unhurt, but there were bullet holes in the wings of the Cub.
          We moved rather rapidly from Melun northward to La Cappell and the Belgian border, all in about ten days, running into heavy flak around Brunehamel. We were constantly busy moving our landing strips and trying to keep up with the rest of our battalion, which stayed on the highways and encountered only moderate resistance in a few of the villages. We saw several so-called collaborators, women who had collaborated with the Germans and were now left behind at the mercy of the FFI. As soon as the Germans retreated, the French underground seized the collaborators, shaved their heads, stripped them naked, and left them alongside the road. The FFI was vicious in its dealings with collaborators, as well as German prisoners who fell into its hands.
         Near Mons, in Belgium, the Third Armored Division surprised and captured 10,000 German troops, one of the largest mass surrenders of the war. The trek through Belgium didn't take very long; in fact, in just eighteen days we had traveled from the Seine River to the Siegfried Line. As we passed through Mons, Charleroi, Namur, Huy, Liege, and Verviers, we were received like heroes in every village. The Belgians, who are very demonstrative, kissed us, hugged us, gave us wine, and invited us into their homes. Near Namur, Mike Cronin and I were invited to dinner at the mansion of a local aristocratic landowner. We were treated like royalty with a lavish meal and rare champagne. The entire family, mother, father, and four children spoke perfect English. The host told us that the family set aside one day each week when everyone spoke only English. Belgians seemed to have no one national language, for some spoke French, some German, and some Dutch. Many of the people were bilingual. Since none of the Belgians seemed to have suffered much at the hands of the Germans, we wondered if they were as friendly when the Germans came through as they were to us.
         By the middle of September, we reached Eupen and Rotgen, both of which are just beyond the old Seigfried Line. My log shows that on September 13, I landed my Cub in Germany, just on the other side of the pill boxes. I believe this may be the first time an American plane voluntarily landed and took off on German soil during the war. At Breinig the battalion ran into strong resistance and was held up for some time, during which we directed several fire missions from the air. On one of the missions, I again ran into flak that tore several holes in the fabric of my Cub.
         After the resistance was overcome, the battalion stayed near Breinig for a rest and recuperation period. During this time my section moved into a stone house that the Germans had vacated. Our two planes were parked in an orchard to the rear of the house. One afternoon my crew and I were playing volleyball in the orchard when we heard the noise of incoming shells. The sound is unmistakable, like freight cars flying end to end. We dashed for the cellar of the house and made it. When the shelling stopped, our two airplanes were complete wrecks, and the post holding our volleyball net was cut in two. I managed to salvage the name Phyllis and the grasshopper insignia from the nose of my plane. These memorabilia I still have. I decided that we were a little too far forward because the Germans were able to see us landing and taking off. After that experience, I tried to stay a little farther back from the front lines.
          The battalion moved on toward Aachen and Stolberg and then settled down for another period of recovery and much-needed maintenance. I moved my section to a pasture field beside a large dairy farm near the village of Walhorn. It was known as the Belven Farm and was owned by a family of Germans named Egyptien. Our stay at this location lasted from the second week of November through the middle of December. The large stone house and barn were attached, as was customary in this part of Germany. There was a courtyard in the center almost completely surrounded by buildings.

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