Memories of a WWII Vet as he Turns 97
Pasquale Giambrone was born in Norristown on April 3, 1924. He was the son of two Italian immigrants, James Giambrone and Florence DiCicco. He is known to family and friends as “Pat” as he was never really fond of his first name. Pat was 18 years old and working at Kurtz’s Fish store on DeKalb and Airy Street when he realized most of his friends had already enlisted into the service. He found out that a woman he knew kept putting his name lower on the list (so that he would not have to go to war). He immediately told her to put his name in the right place on the list and he entered into active service on April 7, 1943.
When Dad enlisted, he went to Harrisburg to take a test. Since Dad knew everything about tools and buildings (which he learned from his Uncle Victor growing up), it seemed he was going to be assigned to be involved in building hospitals over in Europe. He was sent to Illinois for basic training where he was then picked to be on a special drill squad. When he returned to Cumberland Gap, dad went to school every morning to learn about diseases, how to keep a hospital sanitized, build temporary latrines, etc.
Then the outfit went to Atlanta, Georgia to work in an Army hospital to get ready for overseas. The Sargent there was pushing for Dad to go to school to become a noncommissioned officer. However, they got orders to be shipped out, so schooling was cancelled and Dad was sent back to Illinois for training to become an ambulance orderly. He was a Private First Class in the Company B 120th Medical Battalion and qualified as an Expert Rifleman, but did not go into combat.
In March of 1944, the soldiers boarded the RMS Aquitania, the fifth largest passenger boat in the world, out of a port in New Jersey. It held around 4000-5000 soldiers. They put a few cots in a room on top of the propeller, which Dad shared with a few others. It was loud and noisy. The boat landed in Scotland and they took a train to Wales where they stayed in the homes of private citizens who had extra rooms for about 3 weeks.
From Wales, they took a train to Cheltenham, England where they took over a British Army hospital in a Quonset hut. Dad was a medic who assisted the nurses and did anything the patients needed, including changing bandages, getting their medicine, cleaning colostomy bags, sometimes giving needles if the nurses were too busy. On D-day they got notice that in about 4 hours they would start getting wounded soldiers coming into their hospital. They stayed in Cheltenham for 1-2 months taking care of the wounded.
After Cheltenham, they took an LST-troop ship to France. They went into a regular hospital that they took over from the British in the town of Moulignon, France (about 8 miles outside of Paris). It was a 3-story building with two wings. It was supposed to be an obstetrics hospital that was never used, finished on the inside but the outside (driveway, lawn) were still all dirt.
Dad was sent to an Army hospital in Bristol to learn how to run a large automatic dishwasher because they were having one installed in their hospital. When he returned to his outfit in France, he got sick. Every night when he went to sleep he would get a fever and have sweats but during the day he was fine. They couldn’t figure out why he was sick. His officer at the time, by association with another soldier was not fond of Dad. He sent Dad to a hospital in Paris, but instead of allowing him to come back to his outfit, he was sent to a replacement depot. From there he would likely have gone to the front line. He was assigned to a pup tent on the ground, which he shared with one other soldier, and it was freezing outside. He was still sick – burning up at night but ok during the day. The doctor said “soldier, are you gold-bricking?” which meant was he faking it. That made Dad very mad because he would never do that. Dad had written a letter requesting that he be returned to his outfit, but he never received a response. Since all of his belongings were still with his outfit, Dad decided to leave the replacement depot to find them. That would have been considered desertion. Dad spoke enough French to communicate; he hitched a ride to Paris with a man in a truck that was fueled by coal. He got dropped off near the information building near the train station. He saw a truck there that said “62nd General Hospital” which was where he had been stationed, so he asked the driver to take him back to his outfit. When he got back he reported to the main office.
His commanding officer, who was now a 1st Lieutenant was there with a Sargent sitting right next to him. Dad walked in and his commanding officer said “Soldier, what are you doing here?” Dad said “Sir. I was told to write you a letter requesting my return, which I did, but we never received a reply from you.” At that point, the Sargent realized what was going on (that the 1st Lieutenant had never responded, which was not acceptable) and so the 1st Lieutenant was in somewhat of a bind. So he told the information officer to write to the Paris hospital and asked them to send his papers back so that he could return and stay with his outfit. Dad went right back to his bunk and all of his belongings were still there, including a picture of his girlfriend and high school sweetheart, Mildred Vuotto, also of Norristown, Pa.
After getting sick again, the doctor sent his bloodwork to be tested and confirmed that Dad had malaria. This is what was causing the night sweats and fever. He went into the hospital and was treated for malaria and then was sent back to duty in the hospital taking care of the wounded. He and another medic, along with a nurse, took care of the top floor. The protocol was to get soldiers in and out of the hospital in one or two days. If they were too wounded to be sent back to combat they were sent to England for further treatment, or back to America .
In the Battle of the Bulge, the Germans began to push the Americans back. At one point Pat and another medic were responsible for over 125 wounded GIs, witnessing the worst the war brings with it. The U.S. called on General Patton, who led the Americans to stop the Germans from advancing. Dad was sent to another Army hospital in southern France and joined the 43rd Division. From there, they were sent to northern France to be stationed. But before they arrived, Hitler committed suicide, the Germans surrendered, and the war ended. They arrived in northern France almost simultaneously with the war ending. From there, they were going to Le Havre, France and then they were going to fight the Japanese in the South Seas. But while they were heading there, an atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima and then subsequently Nagasaki and the Japanese surrendered. Dad took a ship from La Havre, France to New York City.
Then he took a train to Philadelphia, which passed through Bridgeport where he could see the street he grew up on. From Philadelphia, they were sent to San Antonio Texas and were told in 10 days they would be discharged. His official separation date was November 5, 1945. Dad got to a phone and called up his girlfriend. He said “Millie, this is Pat. I’m in Texas. We will be discharged in ten days. Get everything ready. We’re getting married as soon as I get home!”
Dad took a train from Texas to Philadelphia, sleeping on metal floors for three days. When he arrived, he took a cab from Philadelphia to his front door in Norristown. He walked in the door, heard voices in the kitchen downstairs. He threw his duffle bag down to let everyone know he was home. He went down and peeked his head around the corner to see his father, mother, and future wife, Mildred Vuotto, in the kitchen.
Pat married Mildred and raised 5 children, 4 boys and one girl. Pat became interested in deer hunting and archery. He joined the Keystone Federation of Bowman (an organization comprised of local clubs) and was a member of the Lower Providence Rod & Gun club. He gained such a proficiency in archery that he was one of the top archers in the club, if not in the entire federation. He regularly won first or second place in each competition. He is also a charter member of Post 1182 Catholic War Veterans, of Norristown, PA.
In 1986, Pat and Mildred left Norristown and moved to Perkiomenville where he now resides. Mildred passed away in October, 2014. Pat also lost his third son, Mark, to cancer in February, 2018. Pat has 9 grandchildren and 12 great grandchildren, who all see him regularly at family gatherings. For his 96th birthday, due to COVID-19 stay-at-home orders, his family put together a video of smaller videos from each of his children’s families all wishing him a happy birthday in their own unique way. Pat will be celebrating his 97th birthday on April 3. The entire family is proud of Pat’s service and the tightknit family that he and Mildred raised.