134th Infantry Regiment Website
"All Hell Can't Stop Us"
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134th Infantry Regiment Website"All Hell Can't Stop Us" |
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Kenneth James VanEtten, son of Granville and
Gertrude Belle "Gertie" (Jones) VanEtten, was born September 8, 1918 in Corning,
New York. He registered for the draft October 16, 1940 and was inducted into the
Army March 28, 1944 at Fort Dix, New Jersey. He joined Headquarters Company 2nd
Battalion, 320th Infantry Regiment from the 38th Replacement Battalion on
October 1, 1944 when the unit was in the vicinity of Gremecey, France. He was
promoted to Private First Class on January 1, 1945 while fighting in the
Ardennes during the Battle of the Bulge near Baschleiden, Luxembourg. Pfc
Kenneth J VanEtten was wounded June 25, 1945 in the vicinity of Altenkirchen,
Germany, about 35 miles north of Koblenz. His squad was loading German artillery
shells onto the back of a dump truck to be disposed of when one fell and there
was an explosion. He was thrown 30 feet away by the blast, knocked unconscious,
and both his ear drums were blown out. He was awarded a Purple Heart Medal for
his wounds. Three other soldiers from his squad were also wounded: Pfc William
W. Best, Pfc James E. King, and Pfc Joseph M. Osborn. Another soldier,
Pfc
Arthur R Hiatt, was killed by the explosion. Pfc VanEtten departed the ETO
September 5, 1945 aboard the Queen Mary and arrived in New York Harbor five days
later on Monday, September 10, 1945. In addition to his service in the U.S. Army
during WWII, he also served in the New York National Guard. Kenneth J VanEtten
passed away January 23, 2008 at age 89. He is buried at Hope Cemetery Annex,
Corning, New York.
| Pfc Kenneth J VanEtten was my father. He
indeed was a purple heart recipient in WWII. The story, as I remember my
father telling it... His squad was told to clean up some unexploded
German artillery shells. They were loading the shells on the back of a
dump truck and the truck was going to be driven to a nearby cliff and
the shells dumped over the cliff. They were in a line of men, passing
the shells to one another when the man in the truck dropped one of the
shells and there was an explosion. My father said he was thrown thirty
feet away by the blast and landed on a hillside. He was knocked
unconscious and his ear drums were blown out. He had terrible back
problems afterward that required surgery after the war. However, he
continued to serve. He said the Army doctor checked him out and he was
awarded a purple heart on the battlefield. I remember later his military
records were burned up in a warehouse fire and he had to convince the
Army that he actually earned the medal. Luckily he still had his
"battlefield medal" and received a certificate to go with it. Both are
proudly displayed on the wall of my home.
My father had to leave his wife and two young boys (my eldest brothers) when he was drafted to fight the Nazis. He was the oldest member of his squad and the other soldiers called him "Daddy". He had four boys altogether and three of us served in the U.S. Army. Two were drafted, I enlisted. My parents had two girls after my Mom turned 40 years old. My father returned to Corning after the war and entered the apprenticeship program for copper wheel glass engraving at Steuben Glass. He became a master engraver and worked for Steuben Glass until his retirement. His deepest memory of the war was being cold and freezing in Fox holes. When he came home he always had the heat in the house cranked up. He had made a vow to never be that cold again. My father, besides being the oldest member of his platoon, was the only musician in the bunch. He played the violin, mandolin and tenor banjo. He said any time anyone found an instrument they would bring it to him. He said he and other soldiers who could play music would play for church services with the Chaplain. The word came down that one person from each squad would get a three-day pass to Paris. The winner would be chosen by lot. Somehow, the guys in his squad rigged it so my father won the trip, and then took a collection so he would have some spending money! While in Paris he wanted one thing - to have a photo taken to send home to his wife. Thus the photo with the helmet at a slight angle on his head. He sent my Mom a bunch of postcards from Paris, some I still have. The soldiers could only send home what could fit in an envelope. He sent my Mom some hand-painted handkerchiefs. My father didn't dwell on the war too much after he returned to civilian life, but he had certain stories he told over and over, some were gruesome, like the story of the explosion. He said he and a buddy were ordered to bury some German soldiers and they grabbed a corpse and its arms came off in their hands. He said he took a belt buckle from a dead German soldier because it had the emblem of the SS on it. His friends started complaining that something putrid was among them and it turned out to be the belt buckle. He had to throw the belt buckle away because the smell from the decaying soldier was embedded in the metal. He spoke of the ship voyage across the Atlantic and how he tried to stay up on deck as long as he could. The smell of that many men all together in a ship, with the cigarette smoke and body odor would turn his stomach. The men were given one meal a day on the crossing so everyone would grab as much bread as they could and stuff it into their shirts and pockets on the way through the chow line. He said It was so cold that winter they had a battle one night and when the sun came up and he poked his head out of his fox hole he saw dead German soldiers frozen in a standing position in a field. He said it was the eeriest thing he saw in the war, dead soldiers still standing, frozen standing up. He swore it was true and he never forgot it. The only regret he ever voiced was not being allowed to return with a fine violin someone found for him. He said guys were returning with dogs and all kinds of things but he had to leave the violin behind. When he returned from the war he served as a volunteer fireman in our town, as well as being the Scoutmaster. He continued serving in the NY National Guard as a sergeant but quit when a "by the book" officer took over. He dedicated himself to learning the art of glass engraving and many of the pieces he engraved for Steuben Glass were given as gifts of state to other countries. Most of all, he was a great Dad. His was a life well spent. He did reunite with his close friend from the war, Louis Radioli of Brooklyn, New York. They shared many a fox hole together and they kept in touch. Louis and his wife drove up to Corning for my Dad's 80th birthday and there were many tears of happiness shed that day. When my daughter was in high school she asked my Dad (her grandfather) to speak to her history class about World War Two. From what I heard, he held the class spellbound. I wish I could have been there. Kenneth J. VanEtten II, Corning NY |
 Pfc George Vekas, T/5 Melvin W Bright, Pfc James E King, Pfc Kenneth J VanEtten, Pfc Gerald F Smarter, Jimmie?, Pfc Alfonso Donnarumo |
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Thanks to Pfc VanEtten's son, Kenneth J VanEtten II, for the biographical information about his father and the photographs. |
