Local WWII veteran shares wartime memories
PLYMOUTH — For those who haven’t had many birthdays yet, that special day ends up being a day of looking forward, whether that’s to a party with friends, good cake, plenty of gifts, and fun games later or perhaps to other things, like taking a driver’s test or even getting that first car. But arthur Woolington will be celebrating his 102th birthday on Wednesday,
Feb. 22. as the day fast approaches, he has spent some time thinking back, specifically of his time fighting in some of the most famous battles of World War II.
Woolington was drafted on aug. 28, 1942. after basic training at Ft. Bragg in North Carolina, he was trained as a cook but after landing in North africa, he was reassigned to be a tank mechanic. This played to his strengths much better than being a cook thanks to some mechanical skills he had learned before entering the war. “I had a little experience all the way through my younger days,” he said.
On Jan. 1, 1943, he shipped out with the army, headed to Casablanca in Morocco, in North africa as replacements for the 2nd armored division— nicknamed ‘Hell on Wheels’—67th armored regiment, third battalion,
Company G. Little could he have known then how much action he would see before he would see his native country on his return on Nov. 28 1945.
He and the other replacements missed the Invasion of North africa by a matter of months. at first, he was put on guard duty. Due to a weapons shortage, he and the other guards had to use one of the most unorthodox of tools available
to defend themselves in case of an attack: tent pegs. “That’s all we had,” he explained. Soon after, he was transferred to tank mechanics and began training with the others for the Invasion of Sicily. “I was on a tank retriever, which went out and retrieved disabled tanks… and we pulled them back in.” Once the tank was about a half mile behind the front line, Woolington and the other mechanics would work on it. By night, he took turns with the others standing guard.
The campaign against Sicily began on July 9, 1943. “We went in on the first wave. Our company got shot up pretty bad. We got a replacement of tanks that we had no men for.” The officers’ solution was to take Woolington from maintenance and an army cook, and put them in a tank. With very little training, he entered the fray as a gunner. “I didn’t know anything about shooting that gun, aiming it, or anything about it.” His partner was the radio operator, and knew as much about his position as Woolington did. They managed to avoid the fighting, much to General Patton’s consternation one day. “General Patton came up behind us. ‘Hey boys,’ he says, ‘you’re missing all the fun. Get your god-[expletive] [expletive]s up there with the rest of the guys!’” Woolington recalled. “We didn’t pay any attention to him.”
The two of them stayed in that tank for a couple of days until trained crews could take their places.
The Allied Forces won on Aug. 17, which gave the 2nd armored division a much needed break for a few weeks. But in November, the troops were mobilized and sent to England to train for the Invasion of Normandy. “Our company had been in two first waves of invasions. We were kind of reserves going into Normandy. So about three, four days later after the initial D-day, we started across on an LST (Landing Ship, Tank). We had 17 tanks and half tracks and so forth. We got about five miles from the coast of France and hit two mines.” Woolington remembers the ship shaking when the explosions went off. “I didn’t hear no explosion.”
The order to abandon ship was immediate. After a harrowing escape, Woolington was rescued by a Navy patrol torpedo (PT) boat. “When I got on the PT boat, I don’t remember anything. They took me over to the hospital ship. It was fully loaded. I was laying on the floor. I came to, and remember a German soldier right along side of me… That’s all I remember!” he said. He woke up in a British camp, and for lack of anything else, wore a British uniform for about two weeks while recuperating. Finally, the Allied Forces were able to reorganize enough that Woolington was sent back to the U.S. Army camp, where he received new uniforms to replace what sunk to the bottom of the English Channel. “Part of our company was on a different ship and was over in France… In about two, three weeks, I went over.”
Once in France, he rejoined his company of tank mechanics. Fresh food wasn’t nearly as plentiful as the soldiers would have liked, so they would often try to scavenge or barter food from the locals. “One time, it was my turn to go get eggs. They told me what eggs were… they were ‘oeufs.’ Well, I walked down the road and I kept saying, ‘oeufs, oeufs, oeufs,’ so I wouldn’t forget it. I knocked on a door and a girl come to the door and I forgot the name of that oeuf!” He reminisced with a chuckle. “I had a pencil and paper in my pocket, so I drew a picture of a chicken and put an egg underneath it. I got eggs!”
After a lengthy stay in France, the 2nd armored division was transferred to Belgium in time for Battle of the Bulge, which took place Dec. 16, 1944 to Jan. 25, 1945. It was this battle that Woolington remembers with the most emotion. On top of the brutal battle, the temperatures were frigid and there were limited supplies—it was -15 to -20 degrees Fahrenheit and they only had two blankets each and a canvas for a sleeping bag. To make matters more heinous, he saw the effects of Nazi war crimes against civilians, including one day when a Belgium begged a box off of Woolington’s company in order to bury a baby that had been bayonetted.
After the Battle of Berlin, the 2nd armored division remained stationed in Berlin along with many other units from around the world. Despite being war-torn and weary, the soldiers found time for recreation with the civilian girls, often going on dates during their down-time. “The girls, they would come over and visit with us. We’d take them on rides down in the boats [down the canal],” Woolington said. Eventually, the Russians put an end to it by shooting holes in the boats.
Not to be one-upped, the American troops changed the game to sneaking into the neighboring Russian territory. “We got by with it. The next day or two, we thought we’d go back over there again, and we’d get away with it that time. The Russian soldiers had a different idea. They chased us back to our own territory. They kept shooting right down alongside us!” Woolington recalled with a chuckle.
After the end of the war on the European theatre on May 8, the U.S. started shipping boys back home. When it was finally Woolington’s turn, he and several others took a train down to southern France and from there, crossed the Atlantic on rough winter waters. As soon as he landed, he and the rest of the returning soldiers were treated to a parade and a banquet to celebrate them in New York. “Biggest steak I ever seen,” he commented, smiling at the memory of it. He was also eligible to receive a purple heart, but refused on a technicality. Years later when the mistake was realized, the records outlining his valor had been lost.
After returning home, Woolington resumed civilian life. He became a plumber and joined a union when the opportunity arose. He also got married and had three sons. In 2014, he participated in Honor Flight, a program that treats veterans to a plane ride out to Washington D.C. for a day to view their war monuments.
On Wednesday, Woolington doesn’t have anything big planned, just sharing birthday cake with his little sister, Jean Bishop, now 98, and his sons, Jim and Allan.