Fossil Park Neighborhood

Getting To Know Your Neighbor

Feb 01, 2005

Virginia Kuch came to the FPNA?’s attention after receiving a letter from her telling how she was finally able to get rid of the bees in a tree that stood in her front yard and wanted to offer the information to the rest of us. In her letter she told a little about herself, which piqued our interest. I volunteered to interview her for a story.
Virginia is 86-years young! She has a wonderful upbeat attitude in spite of the fact she no longer can drive because of macular degeneration in one eye and uses a cane or walker for security because of her weak knees. She gave her car to her brother and he passed away one week after driving it up to New Jersey. She is now the only member left in her immediate family. Second and third cousins do call and write to keep pace with how she is doing. When I asked for an interview she was most happy to talk with me and share the ?‘rest of the story?’ that was mentioned in her letter. She told of being a retired WWII O.S.S. Army Tech Sgt. W.A.C.
The following is her war story and in her own words:
Things were not too well organized in October 1942 when I arrived with other W.A.C enlistees for 6-weeks basic training at Fort Des Moines, Iowa. We were issued thin green/white seersucker dresses, high top shoes and a man?’s army overcoat. Even though I?’m 5 foot, 7 inches tall this overcoat hung on me. Then, we had shots in both arms. As though this wasn?’t bad enough, I was selected for my first KP duty.
To say I was miserable is putting it mildly. Feeling sorry for myself, I called home to Cranford, NJ, COLLECT! Mom answered. As I complained, she cut me short with, ?“Who told you to go in? Now, remember this, you wanted to go?…now make the best of it and don?’t call collect again to complain.?”
I was heartbroken, and went to my cot to cry my eyes out. I learned later from my father that mom did the same when she had hung up. As a result, when the W.A.A. C. (Women?’s Army Auxiliary Corp) which later was to become W.A.C. (Women?’s Army Corp), we were given the privilege of staying in or leaving, I stubbornly stayed?…didn?’t want mom or anyone to say I couldn?’t take it!
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After basic, I was transferred to the City of Des Moines for a course in Army procedures, then after ?“graduation?” to Fort Meade, MD. to work for Headquarters Commander Lt. Col. Shawn for approximately 6-months. The company of W.A.C. at the post lived in two barracks. Another W.A.C., Marge Phillips, and I were selected for assignment to O.S.S. under the command of General ?“Wild Bill?” Donovan, for overseas training in Fort Ogelthorpe, GA. We learned that two W.A.C.s were selected from each post through out the U.S. for a total of 62. After this training we were shipped to New York City to board the Queen Mary (QM). As we embarked there was a group of M.P.s (Military Police) on hand. Later in 1972, when I was working at U.C.C. New York Headquarters for President John Bertelsen of Domestic Finance we discovered he had been overseeing those MPs. Talk about a small world. It was a surprise for both of us. The QM transported thousands of GIs and the 62 W.A.C.s to the coast of Scotland. Then we traveled by a dark-curtained train to London, England. We were billeted in two former 5-story town houses on Upper Brook Street, a few blocks from Hyde Park. At night buzz bombs from Germany flew over, and our residences shook. I was in a room on the third floor with two other W.A.Cs. When the bombs came at night we were ordered to the basement, each of us taking a helmet and blanket, until the all clear was announced. This occurred at least three times each night. We were suffering for sleep, but we had to report for our assignments at Grosvener Square early the next day. We asked and were given permission to stay in our rooms. We three decided to stay in our beds; tape and black drapes covered all the windows; we agreed to open it all up so we could watch the activity in the sky. As the bombs flew over a white smoke showed, and you heard putt putting. It was fascinating and scary because when the putting stopped the nose of the bomb dived and created considerable damage. When we had a chance my friend Mildred and I hopped on our bikes the next day to where we thought the bomb had hit. Rubble/glass was everywhere. I shiver now when I think how foolish we were to lift the drapes in our room, possibly exposing us to danger as well.
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A month after D-Day 3 other non-commissioned W.A.C.s and I were assigned to accompany Capt. Barbara White on the 1st channel by ship with GI?’s and transferred by rope ladder to a landing craft. We were dressed in unflattering fatigues. On land we saw all the devastation left over from D-Day. The five of us huddled on our shelter halves; we awoke to find ourselves in the middle of a chicken yard. Nearby was a company of GIs and we were invited to share our first French meal with them. We scooped our food into our mess kits from large stainless steel pots.
We were provided transportation to Cherbourg where we received a weapons carrier with driver to continue our journey down the coast to O.S.S. (Office of Strategic Service) Headquarters at St. Pere Sur Mer. En route we passed marching GI?’s who at first thought we were nurses. Hearty greetings were exchanged.
The craters were evidence of the fierce bombings. In what was once an orchard, we saw a cow suspended in the top branches of a leafless tree - the force of the bombings had flung her there - a sight I?’ll never forget.
We were welcomed by Col. Reutershan, in charge of O.S.S. Headquarters at St. Pere and were assigned duties. I became his assistant and handled the cryptography.
We were there until we moved on to Paris a week after it was liberated. Curfew was in effect and we wore our helmets. Our offices were at Quarter Champs Elysees. We were billeted at the St. Petersburg, a small hotel near the opera house. Our transport to the office was by GI trucks.
While on an advance to Germany, the Colonel sent me a box of ?‘real?’ eggs with a note saying he hoped I would appreciate them in lieu of red roses! The hot plates in our rooms were busy that day ?– a relief from powdered eggs!
In early April the Colonel sent a cable asking that I be sent to cope with Polish P.O.W.s (Prisoner of War), which he could not handle. He knew I was of Polish background and spoke Polish fluently. I was flown to Bierbrich, Germany and received red carpet treatment on arrival. Gen. Donovan, Col. Reuterahan and Col. O?’Mallery were there to greet me.
The German O.S.S. Headquarters was a bombed-out former champagne factory. The Germans had painted a red cross on the large roof to disguise it as a hospital, but U.S. Air Force knew from records it couldn?’t be the one, but not taking any chances they only concentrated their bombing on the L-shaped areas so that later most of the middle of the buildings could be occupied for offices.
All in all my E.T.O. experiences with O.S.S. are very memorable. I cherish the many friendships. Of the original 62 W.A.C.s only a handful are left. At each reunion the group gets smaller.
(Note: E.T.O. was the European Theatre Operations and was led by Dwight D. Eisenhower and now known as the C.I.A.)





Virginia is just one of many people we hope you think about this Veteran?’s day. We are sure there are a number of people in our neighborhood that have served this country in the past or are currently serving. We would like to recognize the ones whose names were given to us: Jerry Cowles, Jerry Wooldridge, Ken Santure, and Ed Gustafson. If there are any additions for this list please contact any board member so that we can attempt to have a more thorough list to do a tribute to these brave men and women in our May issue.