Acting troops finally honoured
With inflatable tanks, radio trickery, costume uni- forms and acting, the American military units that became known as the Ghost Army outwitted the ene- my during the Second World War. Their mission was kept secret for decades, but on Thursday the group stepped out of the shadows as they were awarded the Congressional Gold Medal in Washington.
“The actions of the Ghost Army helped change the course of the war for thousands of American and Allied troops and contributed to the liberation of a continent from a terrible evil,” Secretary of the Army Christine Wormuth said during the ceremony at the U.S. Capitol.
“Even though technology has changed quite a bit since 1944, our modern techniques build on a lot of what the Ghost Army did and we are still learning from your legacy,” she said.
Three of the seven known surviving members at- tended the ceremony: Bernard Bluestein, 100, of Hoff- man Estates, Ill.; John Christman, 99, of Leesburg, N.J.; and Seymour Nussenbaum, 100, of Monroe Township, N.J. Nussenbaum was studying art before he joined the Army. Eventually, he joined a unit specializing in cam- ouflage that was part of the 23rd Headquarters Special Troops. “Our mission was to fool the enemy, to put on a big act,” said Nussenbaum, a painter who went on to a career in commercial art.
House Speaker Mike Johnson said during the cere- mony that it’s estimated that between 15,000 to 30,000 lives were saved because of the Ghost Army’s work.
Rick Beyer, a filmmaker and author, helped bring their story to light after their mission was declassified in 1996. Beyer, president of the Ghost Army Legacy Project, produced and directed the 2013 documentary “The Ghost Army.”
The Ghost Army carried out about 20 battlefield deceptions in France, Luxembourg, Belgium, Germa- ny, and Italy. One of the biggest missions came in March 1945, drawing German units away from the point on the Rhine River where the 9th Army was actually crossing.
“They had hundreds of inflatables set up,” Beyer said. “They had their sound trucks operating for multiple nights (and) multiple phoney headquarters and staffed them with officers who were pretending to be colonels.
Kim Seale of Dallas said that his father’s work in the Ghost Army came as a surprise to him. Only about six months after his father’s death at the age of 84 in 2001, he was told of the connection by a past member of the Ghost Army who was putting together a reunion.
“I said, ‘What do you mean, Ghost Army?’ ” he said. “My Dad never talked about it. He kept the oath.”