Winter 1944

Posted on by Thor

While I was in Belgium, I took a slight detour off or the 75th Infantry WWII route to go to a museum dedicated to relics from the Battle of the Bulge. The 75th Infantry had served in the Battle of the Bulge but that was in the Winter of 1944, almost a year before my father 1st lieutenant Arthur Thorspecken got to Europe.

The  Museum Winter 1944 is in Gingelom Belgium. When I drove into the little rural town I was a bit annoyed because the road leading to the museum was closed. I drove around the block and found a church to park next to. Then I hiked the rest of the way to the museum. As I got closer, it started to feel like a Twilight Zone episode. A nurse walked by but her outfit didn’t feel modern.

The I rounded the corner and found a phalanx of American soldiers standing around and chatting near a Sherman tank. I wasn’t expecting this. The sketchbook immediately came out of my art bag. There were dozens of vintage American WWII vehicles parked in the street. Before I started sketching I walked up to the solders and asked what was going on. Thankfully one spoke in broken English. He explained that there was going to be a battle in a couple of hours. The Germans had a camp set up an camp outside of town in a field and the Americans were planning an attack.

Though I wanted to go in the museum, it would have to wait, since history was coming alive right in front of me. I did go into the museum after the battle was over. I loved that there was an artists watercolor kit which is almost identical to what I use.

One vehicle had a loud speaker that was playing tunes from the 1940s. Once in a while a solder would look over my shoulder as I was documenting the scene and say “zeer” or “leuk.” I repeated the one phrase I had learned best in Belgium which is “bedankt.” Which means thank you, in Dutch. Some solders also spoke in French, but I didn’t pick up any loud boisterous American slang being thrown around.

As I was finishing up this sketch, all the American Army trucks fired up their engines and they drove off. I was told they were parading the vehicles around the town. When they were gone, I walked up to the one vehicle that did not drive off, which was the Sherman Tank. An American flag fluttered above the tank harkening back to a time when the Stars and Stripes truly represented well ingrained patriotic ideals.

Namur Belgium: The Citadel Fortress

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It was a rainy day when I went to sketch the Citadel in Namur Belgium. I had to take several breaks from sketching to let the rain die down. There was a quaint little restaurant at the Citadel called Le Fief de Namur and I went there for lunch. It felt very old world and the food was healthy and delicious.  A man at the next table wished me Bon apatite.

The chances that 1st Lieutenant Arthur Thorspecken was at this giant fortress are slim, but the 75th Infantry did have a Command Post here. The command post would have been in the labyrinth of tunnels under the fortress. I asked about a tour that is offered of the tunnels stressing that at some point I might want to stop for some time to complete a sketch. I was told that was impossible. I would have to keep up with the tour.

Instead, I decided to walk through the museum in the fortress. The exhibits were impressive coving ancient history from the geological formations to medieval times. The most impressive exhibit was a scale move; of the fortress. Such models were built to study the possible weaknesses of the fortress. The level of detail in the model was impressive. The model has been exhibited in several fine art museums as well. I considered doing a sketch but it would have taken at least 3 hours to complete. I already had several sketches of the fortress and planned to do another of the view overlooking Namur.

The museum exhibit incorporated a series of panels. Some of the panels were blank to represent the many unknown holes to be found in any history. The panels floated through the exhibit as if on a monorail, at times the panels would spiral overhead. When the Citadel became less functional as a protective fort, sections of the vast property were turned into theater and sports complexes. Unfortunately there was little in the museum about WWII. The Germans captured the fort in May of 1940 and then the Allies took it back and used an air field close to the fortress before my father got to Europe in February of 1945.

Charleroi Belgium: Ibis Styles Aero 44

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I find the small pocket sized sketchbook is great for quick informal sketches at moments like waiting for the food to come at dinner. To my right there was a large table full of guys that seemed to be together on a business trip. It was a jovial scene with everyone sharing photos on their cell phones.

Of course in WWII no Infantry soldier was allowed to shoot photos or write anything about where they had been or where they were going. ‘Loose lops sink ships” was the propaganda slogan to encourage troops to keep their lips sealed. My father 1st Lieutenant Arthur Thorspecken never wrote or said anything about the war. He kept his lips leaked up until his dying day. As a child I thought I heard him say one that a bullet had hit a tank right next to his leg once. His C-Company platoon was  assigned to work with the 8th Armored Division when the 75th Infantry Division pushed into Germany. So the tank aspect of my vague memory holds up.

Two other 1st Lieuenants from the 75th Infantry did write about their experiences in the war, and I am using their writings as a way to get a sense of what a 1st Lieutenant would have gone through in WWII.

The scene I sketched in the hotel restaurant probably isn’t much different that a scene in an infantry mess hall except for the fact that there was a woman in the room at the far table. Belgium was liberated by February of 1945 when Arthur Thorspecken might have been in the city ready to join the 75th Infantry as they moved up to the Netherlands.

After this dinner, I went up to my room and discovered that my travel credit card was missing. I tore apart my luggage and could not find it anywhere. Then I remembered getting gas on the drive to Charleroi Belgium. The gas pump just wouldn’t work with my card. I got frustrated and finally went inside to pay in Euros. I must have left the card in the machine in my frustration. In the morning I decided to make the drive back to the gas station. It was a long shot, but I had to try. I pulled into the gas station and pulled up to the same gas pump. Of course the card was not in the machine. I went inside the store with a vague hope that some good Samaritan had turned the card in to the attendant. I don’t know how to speak Flemish, but with some German, English and some hand gestures I explained that I had lost my grey card. The color gray caused the attendants eyes to light up. He went in the back room and came out with the card. For once Lucy was on my side. I had a brief retreat but pressed forward to the next city. Now if I use the card in a machine, I keep a finger on it at all times.

Winston Churchill Square War Memorial: Charlesville France

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The 75th Infantry Division used Charlesville France as a Command Post as troop headed north to the Netherlands after intense fighting in the Colmar Pocket in France. The Germans had been pushed out of France.

This War Memorial in Charlesville-Menzieres is located in Winston Churchill Square. The memorial commemorated the residents of Charlesville who were killed in the First World War, the Second World War, the wars in Indochina, and Algeria.

The bronze figure is a victorious angel, holding a laurel in one hand and a flag in the other. Translated, the text on the column says, “The City of Charlesville to his children dead for France.”

At the base a seven soldiers rushing forward and looking up towards victory. An injured soldier on his knees, encourages the others to push forward. The large stone base is engraved with the names of the 551 soldiers from Charlesville who died for France.

Gorgeous well tended flowers adorned the base of the memorial. As I sketched school children sat on the benches and ate lunch. A young boy and girl had a long conversation. The girl seemed most interested in devouring her baguette.

WWII Americans Break Down Camp

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It was getting late in the day of day what the Clamerey France WWII American Camp Reconstruction. The sun was setting and the light turned golden. I was tired but could not stop sketching. I didn’t want to do any more large sketches, so I turned to my small pocket sketchbook. I love this sketchbook, I picked up when I met an author up in Gainesville Florida. On the front of the sketchbook, it says “ The Creative Ramblings of a Restless Mind.” I love that.

All the troops were planning to go out for drinks and dinner after they were done packing up. In this sketch the father was breaking down a large piece of equipment while his son broke down the 50 mm machine gun.  Actually this family was going to stay in camp one more night so they never took down the tent.

A tent did come down behind me and it took three people to fold and flatten the heavy thick canvas. Once folded and rolled up it was placed in a troop carrier truck. The American flag kept waving on the flag pole as the sun set.

Before it got too dark, I was asked to pose with all the troops in front of one of the military vehicles. Every one shouted out the local military drinking song which involved clapping your hands and shouting the lyrics as you rotated your wrists while waving your hands above your head. I sang along, although I didn’t know what the lyrics mean. We all shouted and laughed and then the photo was taken. Look at the light in the photo, it was warm and golden. Such amazing people. I’m in love either way each and every one of them.

WWII Memorial Ceremony

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On the second day of the Clamerey, France American Camp Reconstruction,there was a ceremony at the memorial in front of the town church. I sat in the blocked off street before anyone arrived and started to sketch the scene. One American officer was making sure tat no traffic entered the staging area. I was set up and sketching next to one of the steel street barricades.

Then with a thunderous roar of engines, all the military vehicles from the encampment rolled through the town and parked in a row alongside the memorial. All the World War II soldiers piled out of the vehicles and stood at attention beside the memorial. A gentleman in a blue suit must have been the town mayor and he shook hands with everyone.

A procession of French flag bearers lined up across the street and when the moment was right they marched across the street towards the memorial. Men in suits followed closely behind. The mayor stepped up to the microphone and said a few words.

The crowd from behind the barrier moved in front of me, so I was faced with sketching a row of butts. Several people let me scooch forward sitting in front of them. I forgot my pencil case in the rush and a man kindly placed it beside me.

A young girl in her early teens stepped up to the microphone and she read the names of the people from this small French town who had died in World War II. He mom was leaning against one of the street barricades and filming her daughter with her cell phone.

With this ceremony complete, the flag bearers moved off towards the Church of Saint-Cyr and Saint Julitte Cemetery and the crowds dispersed. I followed into the cemetery curious to see what might happen next. The world war II era trucks rumbled off back to camp.

Camp de Reconstruction Militere

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Over lunch in the mess tent, I communicated with one of the woman, who had invited me to sit with the troops for lunch, using Google Translate. The app doesn’t make it easy to switch back and forth between languages but after a while we managed to get a conversation going.

As I started doing the sketch of people eating lunch, she walked over to the woman in my sketch and told her to sit still since I was sketching. The pressure was on to be sure to include that woman in the sketch. Ink is an unforgiving medium but I did manage to get her situated in the sketch.

The woman I had been communicating with let me know that the green car parked across from us belonged to her family. She hoped that I would sketch it and I was glad to oblige. Her car looked like a 1942 Plymouth Staff car. All 1942 Plymouth’s are rare. Car production stopped in mid-February of that year, as factories were converted for the World War II effort. Plymouth built 5,821 such Town Sedans. Five are known to exist; two are operational. Now I am no expert on vintage autos, so I might have the year or model off by a notch but this looks like a rare beauty.

The other vehicle looks like a troop carrier truck with a circular mount above the cab for a machine gun mount. The 75th infantry soldiers would have been moved in such a vehicle. When the engine turns over in these trucks they sound like a true hollow monster.

The cabin in the sketch was a store that showcased products used by the American troops. A person can be seen trying to peer inside, from behind the American flag The radio was broadcasting the song, Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy of Company B.

While doing this sketch, a man sat next to me and told me about how overwhelmed he had been on the day the Twin Towers fell in NYC on September 11, 2001. He did business in America and had been to the towers several time. He wasn’t sure which tower he had been in. I told him that I used to drop art portfolios off at the twin towers, and like him I wasn’t exactly sure which tower I had been in. He was sad to see the direction America has been turning in the last few years. There is no open dialogue anymore once an opinion is differed that one’s own the only options seems to be to lash out with violence. We seem to be falling back to the time of 1939 when power hungry men sought opportunities to grab more power, at the expense of others. We seemed to agree that America was united after the fall of the towers but today America is divided as it burns.

Forest to Mausoleum

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A day or two before I left for Europe to follow in my father’s footsteps in WWII, a roof was thrown up on the home being built next to the Lake County studio I was renting. The lot had been a lush forested area just a few weeks before. The sand mountain the home sat on had been leveled and built up in a day. The cinder block mausoleum had gone p in a day, and now the roof structure went up in a day. This was now the largest home in the area on its own mountaintop/

The roof beams had an interesting inverted series of beams which I suppose are to keep the roof from collapsing inward in the high winds of a hurricane. All the triangular sections were delivered to the job site pre-assembled. They were each lifted int place where workmen quickly hammered them into place.

All the workmen spoke Spanish which made me concerned for their safety in the new hate fueled policies of ICE, seizures and deportations. I have seen photos of rooms filled with workmen still in their uniforms in detention centers, having been rounded up from their work sites.

I am in Europe right now in Northern France about to cross the border into Belgium. Russia has just sent military drones over Poland  and it feels like WWIII is about to break out with Trump, a wanna be dictator, in the White House who is owned by Putin.

80 years ago America helped defeat dictators and bring about world peace. Nuclear bombs were used to stop the war in the  Pacific. That was a questionable decision which I hope is never repeated. It only takes a few petty, power hungry men to break down democracy and embrace autocracy in a lust for land, power and a desire to stay in power indefinately.

Market Day

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Stella Arbeláez Tascón and I went to the Webster Westside Flea Market (516 NW 3rd Street, Webster, FL). This is a painting of the combined haul before we divvied up the spoils of the marketing war.

Stella is great at comparing prices and finding the best deal while I just grab on impulse and sometimes forget to pay. I’m just excited to get the produce in my ancient granny cart which was rickety by the end of the shopping spree due to the produce weight.

The jar contains, Tamarind, a hard shelled pea shaped Fruit legume, which is sweet and bitter at the same time. I bit off individual seed pods and nurse the fruit off the seed with my front teeth while rolling it in my mouth.

I have become addicted to having several oranges every day. I am also a fan of cooking corn on the cob every night. It only takes 5 minutes to boil an ear so it is a quick snack.

In the background of the sketch are some ink bottles. Stella was testing each bottle of ink for it’s permanence when used with watercolor washes. It turns out one bottle is not permanent and that is the one she had been using.

My backpack for my Europe trip arrived yesterday. Each morning I put it on to walk around the block to see how it feels. I shopped at REI and maybe packed it 1/3 full. I hope on my travels I can find keep finding lush bounties of fruit as I hike, train and drive from town to town. I am getting close to finishing my itinerary. Which will give me a list of the towns and hamlets I must visit to follow in 1st Lieutenant Arthur Thorspecken‘s footsteps as his C-Company infantry unit moved from France to Belgium, Norway and ultimately the heart of Germany at the end of WWII. I think I solved the mystery of which work concentration camp his unit might have liberated and moved the victims toward Eastern Europe via train box cars. The displaced person’s didn’t want to get on the train and his unit had to hammer the box car doors shut with nails. The trip East might have been a death sentence. Skeletal faces started out from between box car boards in sorrow.

D-Day

Posted on by Thor

On December 10, 2020 more Americans died in s single day than died on the invasion of Normandy in WWII. Now, more than half a million Americans have died from COVID-19. That is more than the number of Americans who died in WWI, WWII and the Vietnam wars combined.

Daignault said, “This is our generation’s D-Day.” The entire country is a war zone. Today the troops are the doctors, nurses and medical personnel risking their own health to treat the sick.

Everyone is fatigued as we near the one year anniversary of the start of the world wide pandemic. People are tired of wearing masks and want life to return to “normal.” But with new variants of the virus spreading through Florida    and the US, this is not the time to let our guards down. The war is far from over.

Case numbers have been falling as have the number of deaths from the virus but we are just now down to the numbers that equal the summer surge. Back then we hoped that was as bad as it could get and people gathered together to celebrate July 4th and other holidays creating super spreader events. We are just now coming down from the Christmas, New Years and Superbowl superspreaders. The insurrection on the capitol had t be the worst imaginable superspreader event and those numbers have yet to be seen. Hopefully everyone who can get a shot of vaccine will get a shot. Right now we are inn a race to keep up with the potential spread of the highly more contagious UK variant the spreads 70% more efficiently. Wear a mask, social distance and wash your hands the end is in sight.