D. Clarke Evans Photographer

Al Dietrich

First Sergeant, U.S. Army
1940-1945

Sgt. Al Dietrich,
Altavilla, Italy, 1943

Besides the fighting, the infantry was mean. There was no difference where you were—in a hole in the ground, freezing, mosquitoes eating you up… and then there is the enemy. It’s a hard, hard life.

I was born December 15, 1921 in San Antonio, Texas. I was in ROTC at Fox Tech High School. I joined the Texas National Guard in July, 1939 one year after graduation. I was stationed at Camp Bowie in Brownwood.

On December 7, 1941 we didn’t know what Pearl Harbor was, or where it was; of course we found out. From the National Guard, I was put in with the Army’s 36th Division, also known as the Texas Division. Our first invasion was Africa in November, 1942 followed by Sicily, then Italy. The war in Africa was over by the time the 36th Division got there. The landing at Salerno was our first combat. No one knew what to expect. What would it be like to meet the enemy? You don’t want to think too much about going into combat. You are lucky to survive. You could be behind the lines and get hit by a bullet from an airplane; you were just unlucky. The bullets fired from planes had to come down. 

At Salerno, my main weapon was a bazooka. One time I grabbed my launcher and ran over to where two officers were firing at a tank. I was waiting for my ammunition carrier. He carried four rounds. I yelled, ‘Load!’ I felt the tug of him loading a round, he tapped me and got out of the way. I fired, hit the engine, and disabled it. The German couldn’t get it restarted. I hollered, ‘Reload!’—yelled it three times. I turned around and he was gone… hit by a German rifleman. I was a few feet from him, and rather than sighting on me, he sighted on my reloader and killed him. 

In Southern France, I tore the ligaments in my knee and had to leave the infantry. I became a first sergeant in a tank transporter company. We had huge diesel engine trucks that were primary movers. Someone would request armor and we would load the armor on large trailers with 48-inch wheels and deliver it. I received the Bronze Star and Combat Infantry Badge—that was the important one. Besides the fighting, the infantry was mean. There was no difference where you were—in a hole in the ground, freezing, mosquitoes eating you up… and then there is the enemy. It’s a hard, hard life. I knew a guy who was flying. They had good food, nice utensils, a comfortable bed… things like that. I had rather be on the ground, though. Worst one was the tank. We talked to a tank guy. He said an armor piercing bullet would enter the tank and just bounce around in there; it was bad news.

We knew there was an end to all this. We had gone into Africa and pushed the Germans out, then Italy, then France into their homeland. We knew it was just a matter of time. I wondered what the Germans thought when all of a sudden they were pushed behind the Rhine River. Toward the end of the war the Germans didn’t want to be captured by the Russians. Some of the German bigwigs sent in a request to be taken prisoners of war.

The war ended May 8, 1945. Over 17,000 troops came back on the Queen Elizabeth. I was sent to Camp Fannin in Tyler, Texas to get discharged. I got out because I was tired of all the traveling; seems like every 30 days we moved. 

I think something about the war every day. Something… it doesn’t bother me though. In my regiment there were about 2,000 men from this area. Most are gone. Those alive are in a nursing home or bedridden. I can’t pick up the phone and call anyone.

After the service, I found civil service work as a draftsman at Kelly. I became a part of the architectural and engineering staff. I was an aide, then I retired. They count military service in your retirement, so I had 37 years in. I worked at UT Health Science Center for 10 more years. My wife Berdie and I were married for 67 years.

{02-27-2015 • San Antonio, TX}