HomeMy WebLinkAboutMarvin Posey, Brazos Valley HeroNil It� in
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(PART 1 OF 2)
Uoyd Marvin Posey, now of Hearne, is a veteran of
World War II and his story is very similar to many from his
generation except for one thing. He was captured by the
Germans and ended the war as a prisoner of war.
Posey was born and raised in Cleburne, graduating
from high school in 1943. He entered the Anny that year
and was sent to various schools, ending up as a com-
bat engineer. In 1944 he was married before leaving for
Europe and the war. He landed in Marseilles, France, as
part of the 36th Division and was sent to Strasbourg as
part of a mine platoon In an anti -tank company. They were
eventually moved to Alsace Lorraine, France, and to the
town of Hatten, France.
It's here that his story of capture starts. The following
is his account of what happened to him and his fellow
soldiers, in his own words, taken as excerpts from a letter
he wrote to a fellow veteran in 1997.
The Capture
"This letter has been very difficult to write. The situa-
tion at Hatten was very stressful, to say the least, and my
way of dealing with it was to try to forget k. However, we
never really forget; we suppress memories and for fifty -
two years this has been a constant problem. It is Ilke.trying
to hold a beach ball under water - - it keeps popping back
up when you think it is under control.
"I do not remember all the dates and details that led up
to our capture by the Germans. We left Nieder Bechorf for
Hatton early in the morning riding in a truck with Lt. Yeates
(Jasper, Tx.). On the way, we ran into heavy artillery fire.
Fortunately, it was all going over our heads and none of
it was close.
"After arriving in Hatten, my squad was assigned the
job of laying a mine field, blocking the main street. The
ground was frozen and we could not bury the mines, so
we put them on top of the ground and tried to cover them
with snow. While we were laying the mine field, there was
a dead soldier lying on top of the ground as he had fallen.
I went over and looked at him. He was young and I did not
recognize him. Seeing him stiffed up such rage - - like I
have never felt since. It just did not seem fair for him to die
in a cold, God- forsaken place like Hatten.
"When we started receiving some small arms fire and
mortar, Mac and I decided that we could guard the mine
field just as well from the building across the street. Bob
MacNally had taken the rest of the squad there. The build-
ing turned out to be a bar, no wines or liquor. The build-
ing was occupied by our squad and five or six guys from
some other company.
"Behind the bar was a courtyard, outhouse, and a barn.
This area was surrounded by a fence of brick or stucco
or rock. I would stand on tip -toe and see over the wall
to a cultivated field on the other side. For some reason,
we were all in this courtyard, looking at everything. Mortar
shells started dropping around the area and we panicked
and scattered like a covey of quail. I ran behind the out-
house and discovered it was a dead -end with farm imple-
ments stored there. As I turned around to run out, my gas -
meek strap at my back hung on the handle of a plowshare.
I couldn't get loose, and all I could think of was how ter-
rible A would be to be killed in Hatten, France, hung up on
a plowshare behind an outhouse. I finally calmed down
enough to get the gas mask off of me. I left h hanging In
place and double -timed back to the bar.
"In the bar everyone picked out a window to watch and
fire from. I was in the corner of the bedroom, overlook-
ing the alley and across from the mine field. As I looked
out the window, I could not believe my eyes. A German
peeked around the comer of the building where Mac and
I had been standing guard. I shot and he fell partly in the
open, but others pulled him back out of sight. After I fired
the shot, a German fired a burp gun through my window.
He started at the top of the window and moved down. I
immediately dropped to the floor. Chambers hollered at
me, "Are you hit ?" I replied, "No - - he missed ", but then
I touched the top of my helmet and one shot had grazed
the top.
"After dark, the town of Hatten came under an extreme-
ly heavy barrage of artillery and mortar fire. Our building
seemed to receive a concentration of fire. We moved
down Into the basement to escape this barrage. I do not
know how long this continued, but ft seemed like forever.
Our building received several direct hits; whether k was
mortar or artillery, I don't know. Only thing I do know is we
were preying for it to stop. Our prayers were answered,
and then it got worse.
"A breech was made in the mine field. The basement
had small grated openings at ground level, about six feet
Above the floor level. We could look out and see what was
happening. After the mine field was cleared, a tiger tank
rolled down the middle of the street with a guy sitting in
the turret, directing fire. The tank was followed by what
seemed like a thousand German soldiers. When he was
opposite our building, the eighty -eight swivelled to point
at our building and we all hit the flocr. It brought down the
rest of the building.
"I will interrupt at this point to pay homage to a brave
American solider We could not we him or them, but they
were in a building across the street - - and one building to
the left. For some reason, I feel like ft was just one man.
He was on the second story with what sounded like a light
machine gun. The tank fired an incendiary round into the
bottom story and the building was burning fiercely. After
this round by the tank, he opened up with the machine
gun. He played a tune on that tank and made Gennan
soldiers scatter like chickens. He fired this machine gun
until the second floor collapsed. He was a brave man and
should have received the Congressional Medal of Honor.
Instead, his family only knows that he was killed in action
In Hatten. France.
"The next morning about sunrise, we heard someone
talking in very low voices in the alley by the jeep. They
were talking so low that it was Impossible to tell whether
they were speaking in German or English. Beasley told
everyone to keep quiet until we were certain. This went
on for a while, than one of the guys in the squad said,
'They are Americans - -'and Immediately ran up the stairs.
He was met by machine gun fire and fell back down the
stairs. Obviously, they were Germans. Some of the guys
cracked open the cellar floor mat led into the courtyard.
The Germans had a heavy machine gun set up in the floor
of the barn, plus a force of about fifteen or twenty German
soldiers. They called for us to come out.
MarWn Posey's story about his tone
as a prisoner of war wlli be continued
In The Eagle next Sunday.
Marvin's name can be found on the Brazos Valley Veter-
an's Memorial. For more information, to make a contribu-
tion, or if you know a World War II Veteran whose story
needs to be told, contact the BWM at www.veterwsme-
morial.org or Bill Youngkin at (979) 260 -7030.
The Ea
Here when you need us.
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(PART 2 OF 2)
This is a continuation of the story of the capture of
Marvin Posey and his time as a German POW. The story
returns to his letter, written in 1997 to a friend. This story
takes up immediately after he and his squad are told by
the Germans to come out and surrender.
The Imprisonment
"We took our rifles apart, and scattered the parts and
came out with out hands up. The German non -com lined
us up in the courtyard and held a machine gun on us. At
about that time the Gentian officer stepped out of the alley
onto the street and someone shot him with what sound-
ed like a B.A.R. He stumbled back into the alley and fell
down. All of us expected to be shot right than. Instead,
the Gentian non -com kept his cool and ordered Beasley
and me to place the officer on a short ladder so he could
be carried to the rear. We carried the wounded German
officer about one -haN mile to a first -aid station."
Posey and his fellow soldiers were interrogated and
marched to the rear of the German lines. Without any
opportunities to escape, they finally reached Mannheim,
Germany.
"We arrived at Mannheim late at night. It was plenty cold
and we were all starving. I do not remember being fed for
the first three or four days after we were captured. During
the night another group of prisoners arrived. Early the next
morning we were lined up to be counted and across from
us was another line of prisoners. I looked over and saw
Chuck Atkinson. I went over to talk to him and while we
were talking, a count was completed. Of course, they were
one man short in one line and one man long in the other.
They grabbed another guy and moved him back to my line.
Chuck and I stayed together the rest of the days of our
capture. Chuck's and my friendship went back to Camp
Gruber. Mary and I were witnesses for Chuck's and Bev's
wedding in Muskogee, Oklahoma. During our days as pris-
oners, we were like brothers and shared everything.
"Our destination turned out to be Stalag IV B - which I
think was abut 70 or 80 miles south of Berlin. I'm not sure.
Upon aMval at Stalag IV B (late in the day), we were as-
signed to barracks. Everything was crowded beyond belief.
It was cold, dirty and very little food was available. Chuck
and I made the decision that we had to get out of them or
we would die. So we volunteered for a work detail.
"Since we had volunteered for a work detail, very early
one morning, Chuck and I were sent with others by train to
Leipzig. It tcok all day to get there. From there, Chuck and
I were assigned to a work detail at Bmerfeld. We walked
to this small town, Bitterfeld, which was about twenty-five
miles outside of Leipzig. The work detail was assigned
to a fertilizer factory, Kali -Chem. There were twenty-two
Americans at this camp at the factory. The Americans and
Russians were kept under lock and key behind barbed
wire. All the other prisoners (French, Italians, Poles, Ser-
bians, etc.) had signed an agreement that stated that
they would not attempt to escape. Therefore, they were
unguarded and were allowed to go into town. They had al-
most the same freedom as German citizens. I am proud to
say no Americans signed the agreement. I do not believe
the Russians were offered this deal.
"About the first week or two in April we were told about
the death of President Roosevelt. It was a sad thing to
A person could not see the beginning or end of the line.
We marched five or six abreast and filled the road from
ditch to ditch. The Gentians marched us east until we
could hear the guns firing, and then we marched west until
we could hear the guns firing. No food was given us dur-
ing this march. Chuck and I scavenged in the potato fields
at night and begged from Gentian housewives during the
day. We became real experts. I do not remember how long
we walked, but I am certain it was at least a week.
"The Russians were treated awful by the Gentians.
They were abused and starved. However, they were tough
and in better physical condition than we were. I saw an
Incident which involved the Russians that was hard to
believe. German farmers stored potatoes in haystacks in
the fields. When the Russians came close to one of these
fields, they all broke and ran to the haystack to get Pota-
toes. The guards hollered at them and then commenced
firing. There must have been several hundred Russlans in
the group. They tore up the haystack, loaded up with the
Potatoes, and then ran back to the column. Some of the
Russians were killed and wounded, but the rest of them
had food.
"One morning we woke up and everyone was moving
out. I believe this was on April 24th. The word spread that
we were going into Wurzen. Our guards had all disap-
peared. Everyone was in a happy mood because we knew
that we were no longer prisoners. We came to a small
village and the match was hafted, wading for the Ameri-
can troops. While we were waiting, Chuck and I started
scavenging for food. We knocked on the back door of this
house, and old woman answered the door and Invited
us in. Imagine our surprise when we entered the kitchen,
there sat five or six German soldiers, armed and ready for
combat. It was a nervous time. The woman sat us down at
the table and fed us bread and marmalade. Nothing ever
tasted better. The Getman soldiers were all tense but not
threatening. It soon developed that they wanted to trade
for our uniforms. They really did not have to offer to trade
or ask; they could have just taken them. They didn't try
to force us and we left posthaste. We went back to the
column and it had started moving toward Wurzen. Then
we saw a jeep with four American officers, with a white
flag flying, running along the side of the column. We were
escorted into Wurzen under a cease -fire agreement.
"We were fed and given cigarettes. I ate so many K ra-
tions and C rations that It made me sick. I went to an aid
station and they told me to stop eating so much. That was
like telling the wind not to blow. When they checked my
weight, I weighed 127 pounds. I had lost approximately
48 pounds during my visit with the Germans. I am sure
Chuck weighed about the same. We looked like walking
skeletons."
Posey and his friend Chuck were sent home, parting
company at Camp Kilmer, New Jersey. Chuck went to
Ohio. whom he went back to school, eventually becoming
a lawyer. Posey attended Texas Tech, graduating In 1952
and working In the agriculture industry until he retired and
moved to Heame.
"Chuck and I said our farewells at Camp Kilmer and
for forty-plus years our only contact was an occasional
phone call and always cards at Christmas. In the mid -to-
late eighties, we and our wives finally got together at Lake
Conroe. Our relationship had not changed. I never had a
brother but a brother couldn't have been any closer to me
than Chuck. My friend Chuck died four years ago."
hear. Even the other prisoners were sad. Soon after the
death of our President, we were told to pack up everything
because we were leaving. The guards would not tell us
where we were going. We thought they were taking us to
another camp. Actually we were consolidated with possi-
bly a hundred thousand other prisoners of all nationalities
Marvin Posey's name can be found on the Brazos Val-
ley Veteran's Memorial. For more information, to make a
contribution, or If you know a World War II Veteran whose
story needs to be told, contact the BVVM at www.veter-
ansmemorial.org or Bill Youngkin at (979) 260 -7030.
The= e
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Here when you need us