Editor’s Note: This article was submitted by Edward Dewey McRae, a Retired Master Sergeant US Air Force. Mr. McRae said his father rarely talked about his military service when he was growing up. He said they only had their first real conversation about it. Below is the story that he wrote.
By Edward D. McRae
My Father, Robert McRae, was born on July 4, 1925, in Dillon County, SC. He grew up like most Black families of this era. The son of a sharecropper, remembering only leaving Dillon County one time for a trip to Fayetteville, N.C. with his father in Nov. of 1943. At the age of 18, he was drafted into the U.S. Army. Receiving his basic training at Ft. Jackson, S.C., then on to Camp Butner, N.C., for training in combat-related and field skills. This included marksmanship and weapons use with rifles, small arms, and grenades; specialized training such as chemical warfare defense in a gas chamber. (All training in segregated units). After his training at Camp Butner, N.C., he was assigned to Camp Gordon, GA, for truck driver specifics. The technical training for a quartermaster truck driver focused on driving and maintenance of military vehicles, with significant time spent on rough terrain and convoy procedures and map reading. This was the path to overseas deployment.
I recall my father telling me he left GA by troop train to Brooklyn, NY. Even though the conditions were crowded and uncomfortable, he said he enjoyed moving through the country, seeing places he had only heard about. They traveled by ship from NY to France. Arriving in France in Oct. 1944, he was immediately pressed into service as a Redball driver, helping to move ammunition, gasoline, medical supplies, and rations to the front lines. He recalled after the Redball routes were stopped, they started to rotate some of the drivers back to their original support jobs. He was part of the quartermaster drivers corps. He continued his service in other critical supply routes through France and Belgium, sometimes under fire. He remembered driving in the Ardennes Forest Dec. 1944 thru Jan. 1945 (The Battle of the Bulge). The roads were winding, narrow, and dark. They had to use what was called cat eyes (blacked-out lights). The weather was extremely cold—snow, ice, and fog. The conditions were hard on the soldiers and the equipment. Daddy remembered spending a week in the hospital for frostbitten feet. He remembered driving to the front line on a resupply mission (although the front kept changing).
Daddy recalled one mission: he was driving very slow using cat eyes when suddenly troops appeared out of nowhere—they were American. The captain said, “Son, what in the world are you doing down here?” He showed orders and told him where he was trying to go. The captain said, “Son, we just pulled back just a few miles up the road. That place is crawling with Germans.” They took some needed supplies and turned him back. After the campaign in the Ardennes ended, he continued hauling anything and everything through France, Belgium, and Germany, driving across all kinds of temporary bridges and challenging crossings using ropes and other materials—Bailey bridges, as some called them. He said the last part of his service was in Germany. The Allied army still needed to move vast amounts of supplies and troops, ending his service in Europe in August 1945, returning to Camp Gordon, Georgia. He achieved the rank of Corporal T5. His awards include the American Theater Ribbon, World War II Victory Medal, EAMET Service Medal, and the Good Conduct Medal. Lapel button issued. His battles and campaigns included the Ardennes, the Rhineland, and Central Europe.
Under demobilization, he had enough points to discharge honorably in Feb. 1946, returning to Dillon County, SC. Seven months later, he married Teressa Dudley, and they had six children: three boys and three girls. After the military, he worked in textiles most of his life and also ran his own taxi business in and around Dillon County for 55 years.
My father was very proud of his service to this country. Daddy, on this Veterans Day, we salute you.
