Veterans

two months after D-Day, June 6, 1944.

A clean-up operation, the unit’s mission was to secure French towns vacated by German units.

“I remember entering Orleans,” Reifsnyder recalled. “There was a statue of Joan of Arc, the Maid of Orleans, in the town square.”

Not all of his experiences were as pleasant, recalled Reifsnyder, a radio operator trained in Morse code. Dodging mortar fire, snip

ers and German artillery shells had its tense moments.

One artillery shell landed so close during the Battle of the Bulge, it blew the tires off Reifsnyder’s jeep. Another time, a room he was supposed to occupy collapsed and another soldier was severely injured.

On Christmas Eve 1944, U.S. artillery called in by Reifsnyder took out a German tank unit. He still remembers the badly burned German soldiers.

“War,” Reifsnyder said, “is hell.”

While Reifsnyder es

caped injury, Mull wasn’t as fortunate.

Crossing a minefield during the Battle of the Bulge, several landmines exploded. Three men in his unit were killed and Mull was among 22 injured.

He lay unattended for 17 hours in a field hospital with a wound to his lower leg. He recovered, but still carries shards of shrapnel in his ankle.

One of Mull’s most vivid memories is of a young soldier’s premonition of death.

The night before combat, the soldier washed and shaved and wrote let

ters home. When his buddies queried, he said “I’m going to die tomorrow.”

At 10 a.m. the next morning, Mull recalled, the premonition came true.

Old soldiers bond

It was as if Mull and Reifsnyder had known each other all their lives.

Within minutes, the old soldiers were chewing the fat like old buddies. After all, they both rose through the ranks to become staff

sergeants.

Indeed, their life paths were similar.

After the war, they came home, got married and raised families.

Mull went to work for the Reading Railroad. Reifsnyder ran a dairy farm until Blue Marsh Lake put him out of business. After that, he formed a landscaping business.

They agreed, as most wartime survivors do, that somebody up there was

watching over them.

After two hours of telling war stories and paging through photo albums, they reflected on their wartime experience over generous portions of Barbara Miller’s shoofly cake.

Reisfnyder, who wore his World War II Eisenhower jacket, put his arm around Mull’s shoulders and looked him in the eye.

“What an experience we had,” said Reifsnyder. “And we didn’t know it.”

RON DEVLIN — MEDIANEWS GROUP World War II veterans, both 99years old, meet for the first time in Bern Township. Edward W. Mull, left, served in the 318th Infantry Regiment. Norman Reifsnyder served in the 319th. They live only miles apart, but it took 99years for them to meet in person. Also pictured are their daughters, Barbara Mull Miller, left, and Rebecca Reifsnyder Schmidt.

World War II veterans, both 99years old, meet for the first time in Bern Township. Edward W. Mull, left, served in the 318th Infantry Regiment. Norman Reifsnyder served in the 319th. They live only miles apart, but it took 99years for them to meet in person.