Cpl. Stanley M Schonberg was assigned to the 301st BG 32nd Squadron.
Military Occupational Specialty (MOS): Clerk.
Transfered as a corporal from a Quartermaster position in the 5th Army to the HQ of the 32nd Bomb Squadron in Dec. 1944.
Stanley is second on the right with some buddies at Anzio before joining the 32nd Squadron in Lucera
June 25, 1944
Dear Alice and Ralph:
Seems that I am swinging away from V-mail and concentrating more on regular letters.
At times I have the urge to write – this is one of them, and while I have nothing specific in mind, will probably end up with the vital statistics of some model, or something – remember!
Whenever Jerry comes over for a bit of serious bombing at night, he naturally drops flares, which illuminate the target so well you can just about read a paper. But when he drops a red one, look out, for that’s over target. Once, we were stationed in the building and there were some nuisance raids – nothing to speak of – more or less a hit and run affair. One particular night, while we were asleep they came over, and I didn’t even bother to get up. It seems there was a new replacement in my room, who never had been through a raid. He was standing near a window, watching all the flak go up, when suddenly he said “ What’s that red light coming down from above?” Damn, that made me move quickly, for we were evidently the target. In about two seconds flat I had my pants and shoes on, and went flying out of the area. I always smile when I try to picture myself then – shoes unlaced, my shirt unbuttoned and flapping wildly behind me, and yours truly in a mad dash to get the hell out. Fortunately (for me) the bombs landed on both sides, a bit away, and did little damage. Looking back, it even war has its moments of humor. Like the time at Salerno, I dived into a chicken roost, which actually offered as much protection---can’t think of an absurd enough simile, but it was of NO advantage – and came out full of feathers feeling very ridiculous. It was only a few planes strafing, and it was over and about two minutes. Pretty amusing now, but not so funny when it took place.
Did I ever tell you that while in North Africa I was many times on the road to Morocco. We were stationed about 30 miles from Morocco, in Algeria, and occasionally we take trips to Oujda, the nearby city. To get there we take the main road, which led to Morocco. To be expected the song of the same name was frequently sung, while the jeep or truck rolls merrily along.
Quite warm over here – the sun beats down, and I’m beginning to have the color of an Arab.
Things are in good shape – hope to hear the same from you,
Stanley is first on the left with some buddies