Brothers in Battle, Best of Friends
* In uniform, Hughes attracted many looks of admiration, especially from women.
BROTHERS IN BATTLE, BEST OF FRIENDS
BROTHERS IN BATTLE, BEST OF FRIENDS
Two WWII Paratroopers from the
Original Band of Brothers Tell Their Story
WILLIAM “WILD BILL” GUARNERE AND EDWARD “BABE” HEFFRON
with Robyn Post
Foreword by Tom Hanks
BERKLEY CALIBER, NEW YORK
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.) Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.) Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore, 0745 Auckland, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.) Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa
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This book is an original publication of the Berkley Publishing Group.
Copyright © 2007 by William Guarnere and Edward Heffron
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Guarnere, William.
Brothers in battle, best of friends : two WWII paratroopers from the original Band of brothers tell their story / by William “Wild Bill” Guarnere and Edward “Babe” Heffron with Robyn Post.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN: 978-1-1012-0757-4
1. Guarnere, William. 2. Heffron, Edward. 3. United States. Army. Airborne Division, 101st. Easy Company—History. 4. United States. Army. Airborne Division, 101st—Biography. 5. United States. Army—Parachute troops—Biography. 6. World War, 1939–1945—Personal narratives, American. 7. World War, 1939–1945—Regimental histories—United States. 8. World War, 1939–1945—Campaigns—Western Front. 9. Soldiers—United States—Biography. I. Heffron, Edward. II. Post, Robyn. III. Band of brothers (Television program : 2001) IV. Title.
D769.346101st.G83 2007
940.54'12730922—dc22
[B]
2007021056
For
Henry Guarnere
and the kids who never came home
CONTENTS
Foreword by Tom Hanks
Preface
Introduction
1 GROOMED FOR WAR ON THE STREETS OF SOUTH PHILLY
2 EARNING THOSE COVETED JUMP WINGS
3 D-DAY: WILD BILL’S REVENGE
4 ENGLAND: GARRISON DUTY AND PICCADILLY LILIES
5 HOLLAND: PARADES, GRENADES, AND HELL’S HIGHWAY
6 MOURMELON-LE-GRAND: R & R INTERRUPTED
7 BASTOGNE: CODE WORD FOR HELL
8 GERMANY: NOW I KNOW WHY WE’RE HERE
9 BACK HOME IN SOUTH PHILLY
10 BACK TO THE PLACES WE FOUGHT
11 “BABE, MEET BABE”: BAND OF BROTHERS GOES TO HOLLYWOOD
Epilogue by Band of Brothers Actors Frank John Hughes and Robin Laing
Acknowledgments
Index
FOREWORD
Too often, war on film becomes a glamorous action movie. The horrors of battle look thrilling as heroes defy odds and cheat death. The bullets are blanks, the explosions are special effects, and the costumed actors wear made-up wounds in an art-directed fiction that is improbably “cool.”
Before the characters see combat, war can look like a long camping trip. Young men get into the best physical shape of their lives, make friends and laugh at every opportunity, then perform daring acts like jumping out of airplanes. Their camaraderie is the stuff of being young, being proud, and being a part of a great adventure. In the movies, the battle is when things get exciting. In real war, it’s when young men kill other young men.
The European Theater of World War II is particularly attractive, as London, Paris, and the Austrian Alps are some of the locales. The D-day invasion of Normandy had an understandable geography. The Battle of the Bulge was a pure drama with a surrounding, desperate enemy. Victory in Europe was definitive, marked by the time and the place and the party that followed. And everyone knows the alliance of Good Guys won the Good War.
In the HBO miniseries Band of Brothers, we producers held an ace up our filmmaking sleeve that helped span the divide between what actually happened and how it appeared on the screen—that was the book, a marvelous piece of history told by Stephen Ambrose, a great scholar and a dazzling storyteller. The details came straight from the mouths of the characters—and what characters they are.
Easy Company of the 506th Regiment of the 101st Airborne was a collection of fascinating men. Some of them were taciturn, others hilarious. Some were country boys, others came from the biggest of cities. Most of America’s faiths were represented, including atheism. Some were accomplished ladies’ men, others so shy they passed the war with their virginity intact. Each of them faced the coming struggles with a priceless advantage—each other.
To single out one or two of these Screaming Eagles as the Most Super-Duper Paratrooper or the Best Source for a free beer on VE day would be a fool’s errand. But to fail to single out Bill Guarnere and Babe Heffron would overlook a grand entertainment and a stirring inspiration.
“Wild Bill” and Babe. Even their names beg the telling of their tale, like great ball players from the 1920s, or legendary lawmen—or outlaws—of the Old West. They are the guys who grew up just blocks from each other in Philadelphia, yet never met until they were in England. Babe, you see, walked a certain way, with a combination of a confident stride and a cocky bounce so Bill knew, just knew, this replacement trooper had to be from Philly. Guarnere was a veteran of the jump into Normandy and had already survived the killing, the misery, and the miles of bloody territory that would have to be taken before the war would end and he could go home. Heffron, newly assigned to Easy Company, was soon to fight in Operation Market Garden and barely survive the Battle of the Bulge. They were young, strong, oversexed, and over there—just the kind of heroes that history makes out of two guys from Philadelphia.
The true measure of what Bill and Babe experienced in the war—what they lost and suffered, what challenges they faced and conquered—could never be fully re-created in a miniseries for television, even in a thousand hours. The best we filmmakers could aim for was capturing a true portrait of who they were.
While shooting the fifth episode of Band of Brothers, the production was on the massive back lot, once an abandoned aerospace plant north of London, which we turned into Normandy, Holland, Belgium, Germany, and even Camp Toccoa, Georgia. Two units were filming simultaneously, with actors moving between episodes—from one false battlefield to another—often on the same day.
Frank John Hughes, who played Wild Bill Guarnere, had a special duty that required his wearing his uniform/costume off the set. Looking exactly like an Ame
rican paratrooper of 1944, complete with his set of jump wings, his pant legs bloused into his Corcoran boots, and a Screaming Eagle patch on his shoulder, Hughes reported to Heathrow Airport.* VIP guests were due in from the United States, and he was to escort them to the movie set.
With a crisp salute at ramrod attention, the actor greeted Wild Bill Guarnere and Babe Heffron upon their return to England.
When the two veterans arrived at our version of Holland, word of their presence spread like wildfire, as if Elvis Presley and the Beatles were on the lot. Shooting stopped, the production offices emptied, and the cast and crew began flocking to the back lot on foot, in vintage army jeeps, on scooters and bikes. Everyone wanted to see the men themselves, the troopers whose stories we were telling, two of the band of brothers who jumped into hell on earth in order to save the world.
Bill Guarnere and Babe Heffron were old men by then. Fifty-six years earlier, Bill had lost one of his legs somewhere in the woods outside of the village of Foy in Belgium. Babe was still reeling from the long flight and the jet lag. Both of them were gracious, gregarious, and needed a beer. And there, on only three legs, stood the paradox of our series Band of Brothers—the war was not glamorous but the men of Easy Company were, and still are.
Tom Hanks
PREFACE
On assignment for Philadelphia magazine in the spring of 2001, I went to meet Bill Guarnere and Babe Heffron, World War II veterans who would later be portrayed in the HBO miniseries Band of Brothers, produced by Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks. Babe is the father of one of my dearest friends. Bill is her godfather.
We met at Bill’s house, a humble war shrine with American flags and eagles everywhere. “Yowwwwza!” Bill yelled when he saw his buddy, Babe. “Yooooooooo!” echoed Babe. They were as fired up as young enlistees, their youth preserved in their friendship. Bill imitated Bogart; Babe looked and sounded like Ralph Kramden. They bantered like an old-time comedy duo (Bill: “Babe never liked my jokes.” Babe: “Bill ain’t as funny as he thinks. When he thinks he’s funny, he isn’t. When he is funny, he don’t know it!”). Babe poured himself a Baileys Irish Cream, and settled into the brown recliner that’s become his chair. Bill plopped on the couch and patted the seat next to him. “Sit down, honey,” he said sweetly. “What do you want to know?” We dug out piles of photos and letters from the war, while Bill puffed away on Pall Malls, and the two of them reminisced about war buddies. “Sing that song you used to sing with Joe Toye,” Bill urged, and Babe belted out a rendition of “I’ll Be Seeing You” worthy of Broadway. (He sang “Bridget O’Flynn” in the miniseries’ companion documentary We Stand Alone Together: The Men of Easy Company.)
The men had first met during the war, when both were part of an Army experiment to collect teenage boys across America, turn them into hardened warriors, and pit them against the vicious Nazi machine that was swiftly overtaking Europe. They’d be the Army’s first paratroopers, trained to incapacitate foes while surrounded behind enemy lines. The boys of the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment would be the first to stay together from basic training to combat, making them so cohesive and efficient, they would be unmatched on the battlefield. One group of men, known as Easy Company, stood out above the rest. Led by a masochistic commander they bonded to hate, Easy became one of the toughest, most physically fit, closest-knit group of soldiers the Army ever produced. In June 1943, their regiment was attached to the 101st Airborne, the Screaming Eagles, for what the 101st’s commander called a “rendezvous with destiny.” They stormed through Normandy on D-day, liberated Holland in Operation Market Garden, defended Bastogne at the Battle of the Bulge, captured Hitler’s Eagle’s Nest in Berchtesgaden, and liberated a concentration camp in Landsberg, Germany. Easy Company incapacitated German troops who outnumbered them in the biggest, bloodiest war ever fought.
Bill was a platoon sergeant in Easy Company over forty-eight men. His commander, Dick Winters, called him a natural killer; his men called him “Wild Bill.” Babe joined Easy Company after the Normandy invasion, and became a machine gunner and private first class under Bill’s command. The two grew up blocks apart in South Philadelphia, yet never met until they were united by an enemy three thousand miles from home. The men were an unlikely pair—Babe was guided by his Irish Catholic upbringing and played by the rules; Bill was fearless and spontaneous, and lived by his own rules—but they became fast friends and fought side by side all over northern Europe. When they reconnected in their hometown after the war, they were bonded in a way no civilian could ever fathom.
Today, their friendship is extraordinary. In sixty-three years, the men haven’t gone a day without a phone call between them. They finish each other’s sentences, laugh alike, and have adopted each other’s sayings, like “Don’t irrigate me.” They talk in an old dialect reminiscent of the Bowery Boys and everyone the war generation grew up with. They say “foist” for first, and “thoid” for third, and call people scallywags. To a question they often exclaim, “Why, soitainly!” They’re tough and unstoppable, and ready to go “fist city” with the unpatriotic.
I made one mistake that first day: I called the men heroes. “We are not heroes!” Bill said adamantly. “The kids who never came home are the heroes!” They believe they only did what their country asked of them, like millions of other men and women all over the world. They came from humble beginnings in South Philadelphia, raised in an era when you simply did what needed to be done for family, for community, for your country.
Despite what they say, these men are heroes. They risked their young lives, fighting fearlessly for the world’s freedom. We must never forget the heavy price all of our combat veterans have paid. Some paid the ultimate price, while others bear the daily burden of having lived through the horror, with their haunting memories or permanent wounds.
When my piece “Veteran’s Day” was published in Philadelphia magazine, it caught the attention of Scott Miller, a very clever literary agent and former Philadelphian, who thought Bill and Babe’s war stories and profound friendship were worthy of a book. He brought the idea to the Berkley Publishing Group, and this incredible project was born.
Bill and Babe agreed to share their most personal stories “for the kids who never came home.” This wasn’t easy for them. I interviewed them about a hundred times between 2001 and 2006. Sometimes the stories flowed like water, but more often, I had to poke and prod and wring out details. In either case, I was completely humbled by their honesty and openness in talking about some very tough subjects. Time has clouded their memories a bit, but the men recall events from sixty-three years ago like they happened yesterday, and help each other fill in missing details.
In each chapter, Bill and Babe take turns telling their story, one often beginning where the other left off. The frequency of the back-and-forth mirrors their proximity during different parts of their wartime and postwar lives. For example, Babe was not in Normandy, so that chapter is Bill’s alone. The same goes for Babe in Germany. In “Bastogne,” and “Back to the Places We Fought,” for example, they’re nearly side by side, so the exchange is constant down the page, with Bill’s stories always in italics. The stories, voices, grammar, and lexicon are all theirs. The sequence is mine in that stories and observations were rearranged to follow the sequence of events as they occurred, based on the men’s recollections and historical accounts of Easy Company’s campaign. Two invaluable resources were Band of Brothers by Stephen Ambrose, and Beyond Band of Brothers by Maj. Dick Winters. Using the latter, with the men’s permission, I incorporated any time and place references they could not recollect, to make it easier for readers to follow.
Bill’s war experiences begin with the “Army experiment” at Camp Toccoa, Georgia. Babe’s begin with an artillery outfit at Fort Eustis, Virginia. Where Bill’s training was part of the adventure, Babe’s is just a necessary prelude. He joined Bill and Easy Company as a replacement after the men returned from Normandy and remained with the company until war’s end.
&
nbsp; Bill and Babe hope this book teaches the true meaning and importance of freedom, and what it means to fight for it. I’m extremely honored and grateful to have been part of this worthy task, and I thank Bill and Babe with all my heart for their courage, bravery, honesty, and generosity. I will forever be inspired by them, and by their story.
Robyn Post
INTRODUCTION
BILL
When you’re a paratrooper, you’re the elite of the Army, you’re always on the front lines. You know you’re going to pay the price. Then you had the German army. They were fighting the war for years. By World War II, they had it perfected, they had the best weapons in the world. We were no match for German artillery. Those Germans were technologically advanced for being a small country. They had the best fighters in the world, the Fallschirmjäger, German paratroopers, and the SS—Nazis, even the Germans were scared of them. They were fearless, raised as boys to live and die for Hitler. Germany was prepared, and America was sound asleep. We didn’t make the plans for it, kid.
Our company, our entire division, the 101st Airborne, was on the front lines of every major battle in the European Theater, without enough men, weapons, artillery, ammunition, supplies, and proper clothing. Easy Company had a reputation—because of our captains, Herbert Sobel and Dick Winters—as the toughest and best. Since the Army lacked manpower, we were always sent in to take up the slack. As trained as we were, as good as we were, it was chaos, death was all around, you knew any minute could be your last. We froze, we starved, we were covered in filth, we were exhausted, we lost good kids every day, we saw things people don’t see in ten lifetimes. When we thought we were beaten down as far as we could go, we were kept on the front lines. I never expected to survive a day, let alone the whole war.