
Harry "Buddy" Raley in 1942 just after being drafted into the United
States Army.
ST. MARY’S TODAY
CALLAWAY—Sixty years ago, Harry “Buddy”
Raley realized first hand the brutal, murderous actions taken by Adolf
Hitler’s Nazi regime, when he walked through the Nordhausen
concentration camp.
“It was the most horrible thing I’ve ever
seen, the smell was so bad you had to wear your gas masks and guys were
vomiting,” Raley said. “The smell of human bodies is like awful, like
nothing else.”
While some people may not realize the
magnitude of actions taken by men like Raley to literally save the world
from evil, the images of World War II are imbedded in his mind with
crystal clarity.
“Some of it is as clear as the day it
happened,” said Raley, 81, during an interview in his Callaway home with
the ST. MARY’S TODAY. “I remember landing on that beach like it was
yesterday, and I was 20.”
On D-Day, June 6, 1944, Raley landed on the
beach in Normandy, France, along with more than a million American and
allied troops, to begin a sweep across Europe that marked the beginning
of the end of Hitler’s reign.
He was a member of the 1st
Army, VII Corps Antiaircraft Artillery 474th division.
Raley’s division drove “half tracks” directly on Utah Beach from
“landing craft tanks.” They landed two hours after thousands of
infantrymen stormed the beach on foot, as portrayed in the movie “Saving
Private Ryan.”
“It’s one of the worst jobs in the world
to have to pick up your buddies, in pieces,” Raley said Thursday, unable
to hold back the tears in his eyes. “… and they were just up walking
around a little while ago.”
He saw much death, and his unit is
credited with taking out more than a hundred of German fighter planes.
He is proud of the Allies victory over Germany, but many memories are
hard to recall without tears, even the good times.
Raley’s division was dubbed the Maverick
Outfit. The half-tracks were a cross between a truck and a tank, with
tank tracks in the rear. The antiaircraft guns on the half tracks were
designed to shoot down enemy jets, but they also did the job on enemy
tanks.
“Where ever they needed us, we would go,
that’s way they called us the Mavericks,” he said.
Raley grew up in Callaway, two houses
down from where Raley’s Alignment is today.
At 18, he was drafted into the Army on
Dec. 12, 1942. After tactical training at bases in Maryland,
Massachusetts, Kentucky, Tennessee and North Carolina, “crawling under
barbed wire,” he boarded a ship in New York headed for England on about
Jan. 1, 1944.
“I’ve been a very lucky man, and a lot of
guys weren’t so,” he said. “A lot of guys didn’t make it on that beach.”
After he drove on the beach, the
antiaircraft units had to wait several hours while combat engineers
destroyed a concrete wall in the way of the tanks and half tracks.
The Allies secured the seaport town of
Cherbourg, and Raley’s men easily captured 16 surrendering German
soldiers.
To Mortain, across France toward Belgium,
the “triple A” antiaircraft artillery unit traveled, supporting
advancing infantry. Sometimes, the triple A units moved ahead of the
advancing front lines.
He recalled one occasion British war
planes dove down toward his unit’s position and opened fire, mistaking
the VII Corps for the enemy. No one was hurt and the planes pulled back
after the men laid out the bright orange markers that signified they
were allies.
During his year over there, Raley was not
injured, but he had many close calls. He remembered a time driving a
truck back to where the men were camped, and German’s were dropping
artillery shells on the road behind him.
“Boy, did I hit the gas then,” he said.
“They got pretty close to me a couple times, a little too close for
comfort.”
Another time, his unit came upon a German
troop train heading to the Battle of the Bulge. They turned their
antiaircraft guns on the train and blasted the engine car, sending
German troops running in all directions.
“It was quite an ordeal, I tell ya.”
“Once we captured a town, and the older
Germans there were very pleasant, they were glad we were there,” Raley
said. “But before that, they couldn’t tell us, because Hitler would have
them executed.”
“I still get shook up about it all,” he
said.
With all the horrible scenes of war,
Raley wishes no one would have to see combat. “No one likes killing
people, but it’s shoot or be shot, you know.”
In one confused emotion, the war was the
greatest and worst time of his life.
“But I wouldn’t trade it for any
experience in the world,” he said. “It made a better person out of me.”
Thursday marked Buddy’s, and his wife
Thelma’s, 60 wedding anniversary. Occasionally, when he is out wearing
his “World War II veteran” hat, people stop him in the street and thank
him for winning the war.
And he appreciates that.
Raley lost close friends in the war. And
he watches as other WWII veterans die everyday.
“It’s later than you think sometimes.”