FLOYD DUMAS-ESCAPED POW
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Floyd
Dumas, and two compatriots |
This is my story of when
and how I was taken "Prisoner of War".
My first writing was about when I went
in the service. I was in different camps and last was on July 10, 1943. Our division
invades the Island of Sicily, at 4:25 a.m. on July 11. We captured the Comiso
Airport on July 31. We were then pulled out of the line in northern Sicily, called
Trabia, after twenty-two days of battle. We had a good rest!
September
10, we made a landing at Salerno, Italy. October 21, our division comes off the
line after forty continuous days of combat.
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Aprilla,
Italy "The Factory" |
Now
comes the invasion of Anzio on January 22, 1944. The entire 45th Division was
committed by January 29. We held our ground and on, February 16 through 19, the
Germans launched a furious four-day assault to split beachhead forces along Anzio-Albano
Road with 'Factory Area" as focal point. (We were at the "Factory Area".)
When they attacked, the Germans hit with seven crack divisions, along with Luftwuffe
support, plus dozens of heavy tanks. Their attack was to liquidate the beachhead
by February 18.
On this date, my regiment (of about three hundred Americans)
became prisoners of the Germans. The actual figures after seven days of the German
attack are as follows: our regiment the 179th lost 55% of its men and officers
--- 367 wounded; 728 missing or captured; 670 men evacuated as exhaustion or psychiatric
cases.
The German tanks infantry pushed up to the Mussolini Canal, in
which our company was dug in and captured us. Before they got to us, we smashed
our rifles and threw our ammunition in the canal.
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179th
Infantry Regiment's position near the Mussolini Canal |
The bad part of being taken prisoner is that the Germans moved us from our lines
over to their lines which means after we are deep into their lines, we are constantly
being shelled by our own artillery. (They do not know it though.) The Germans
walked us about eight miles into a small Italian town and put us in a home and
into a cellar like deep underground. I was wondering why way underground! I soon
knew why - that night our bomber dropped shells on the whole town. When they took
us out, the entire town, buildings, etc. were leveled. This day, they walked us
in the direction of Rome. We were four days walking. At this time, whenever there
were dead Germans by the side of the roadway, our people killed during the night
raids, they made us dig graves to bury the dead. It was terrible, the work and
the odors. We worked and walked with only a bit of bread (German) and water, once
in awhile.
After the fourth day we arrived at what they called a transit Prison Camp. The
camp was called "Chinni Chefta", an old Italian place where the Italians
made movies. There was barbed wire all around and a huge gate, and guards. We
were supposed to stay here for only two weeks, and they would transport us to
the "Black Forest" in Germany. At about 7:00 - 8:00 in the evening,
they would have a prisoner count. We lined up in a column of 5's. The guard would
say "5", and we would walk into the prison camp building. At the door,
a guard would hand one of the five of us a small loaf of German black bread. When
we got into the building, one person would cut the loaf in five slices. This was
our supper. In the morning, we were let out in the fenced-in area. They would
then give us a cup full of German green tea. (They had no tin cups.) We would
take the liner out of our steel helmets, and they would pour the tea in the helmet
(some breakfast!). At high noon, they had a huge pot they would cook greens, or
whatever they had. One day, we had a horse cooking in it. At first, there were
about 500 in the camp. As the days went by, they brought in more prisoners ---
Englishmen, Scotsmen, Indians, Americans, etc. They always cooked just in the
one pot; so if you were at the end of the line, you generally ended up with water.
I have just given you the menu for the day (everyday).
No toilet facilities
in the camp. We had what they called a slip trench dug and everyone used it. Only
two cold water faucets on the campgrounds. So, you could only wet your face and
hands and wash out your steel helmet. This went on the same day after day - until
the tenth day - something happened... This was the 28th of February 1944.
About five of us were playing cards in the prison camp when an air raid sounded.
All the guards were looking up at the sky and watching our Air Force bombing near
the prison camp. One of the men who was in the yard came in while we were playing
cards and said two men ripped the fence and escaped. He asked if anyone else wanted
to try and get out. I said, "I'll go." and an Englishmen said, "I'll
go." but no one else would try. So, we went out in the yard. The fence was
ripped open, a large group stood around to block the guards view and the Englishmen
and I went through. Little did we know, we were still inside the prison camp.
There was a high stonewall with barbwire and broken glass on top of the wall.
We scouted around and found a small room with fake scenery in it. I suppose as
a part of the movie industry. We hid in this room until dark; with luck it started
to rain and thunder and lightning. There were guards in little buildings on the
grounds but with the noise and rain, we ran across the yard and got to the top
of the wall and over we went ..... running through fields of hay and Italian gardens,
where we yanked up a few carrots (dirt and all) and ate them on the run. After
about two hours, we came upon a farmhouse. We took a chance and rapped on the
door. An Italian lady let us in. We said to her, "Americana soldati"
(American soldier) and "Engleese soldati" (English soldier). The woman
and her husband were the only ones in the house. They had us sit by the fireplace
and dry off and gave us some bread and rigotta, which she warmed up. The old man
knew a few words in English. He said, "You can stay until daylight, but then
you have to leave. If you are caught by the Germans, we are guilty of hiding you."
At daybreak, the Englishman and I left and found a bombed-out house where we stayed
for three-four days. In the meantime, I traded by combat jacket to a sheepherder
for his long black coat. We were still in uniform, so the long coat really covered
me up. The Englishmen wanted to try and get back to our lines. I did not believe
we should try because there were too many German soldiers around. So, the stubborn
Englishman left alone one night. He got challenged by a German outpost, did not
know the pass work, and got caught. It was the last I saw of him. I did hear he
was shot as a spy. In the following days, I heard another soldier - an Indian
was in the small town of Rustica, living there for quite some time and blended
into the community as one of their own. I headed for the town of Rustica and found
him. He was staying with an Italian family and learned a lot of the language.
The family gave me a silk shirt and a pair of shoes, so I got rid of the rest
of my uniform. I held on to my "Dog Tags" and put them in my shoe -
to show I was an American GI.
The Indian and I would go to a neighbor
each morning with a bucket to get some Rigotta. The Italian would also cook fresh
eggs. There were a lot of Germans manning anti-aircraft guns in the area. One
morning, one of the soldiers asked the Indian, "Why doesn't your friend with
you ever talk?" The Indian responded, "He was in the Italian Army and
a bomb fell near him, and he became deaf and dumb." The German said, "That's
too bad." So this is what I did. When you don't know the language, act deaf
and dumb. This is the way I got by…
After living in this little village
for about a month, more and more German soldiers arrived in and around the village.
I started to get a bit scared that I would get caught. Maybe one of the people
would squeal on me. I asked the Indian if he could get me to Rome. He said yes.
We had gotten word that the guards at the Vatican and the Italian underground
were finding safe places in Rome for escaped soldier. So, in two days we left
for Rome. (At this time, the Italian Army had surrendered to the allies. The Italians
were not in the war anymore. All the Italian youth who were in the Army were home.)
Getting to Rome was not a picnic! We had to go through a number of German
roadblocks. They did not bother us as hundreds of people went into Rome each day
to bring their produce to the open market. Some walked the eighteen miles; some
took buses, drove horse and cart in, or a train. We walked to the train station
and got on the train. The train was always packed with people bringing in pigs,
hens, vegetables, etc, for the market. When the train stopped in Rome we took
a bus to Vatican City. We went up and the Indian talked to one of the guards.
The guard told us there were no openings today where families could hide escaped
POW, and for me to come back in three days. At the left of the gates, there is
a small street stand on the right side of the street. On the other side of the
street, there is a person standing reading a newspaper. When the clock strikes
12 o'clock, he will take the newspaper down from his face, fold it up, and put
it in his right side pocket of his topcoat. He will then start walking across
the piazza - you walk beside him and say, "I'm an American soldier, escaped."
Do not say anymore and follow him. Now, you both go back to the country and remember,
in three days, be here and do just as I said."
Three days later,
I went back to Rome -and it happened just as I wrote. (By the way, the man I met
with the newspaper was a priest. He worked with the underground.) The priest went
ahead and I followed. We got on one bus (he paid the tokens), rode for a while,
then transferred to another bus which was loaded as the population, of Rome was
huge. Finally, after about one hour of busing, we got off and walked two blocks
and came to a big building, surrounded by a high wall, with a huge iron gate with
a bell on the side. The priest rang the doorbell and soon a nun came to the gate
and let us in. We walked in a side entrance and opened a door that led to a small
room. The small table for two was set with a loaf of bread and a bottle of Red
Wine. The priest closed the door and put out his hand and said, "You did
fine, and we got here OK."
The priest (I did not get his name)
said tomorrow you will be introduced to a Scotsman who is here, and you will be
together until Rome falls to the Allies. The Scotsman's name was Bill Robb, from
Aberdeen, Scotland. He was taken prisoner in TOBRUCK, in the desert by the Germans.
They piled him in a large group of prisoners on a train to send them to Germany.
He tore the bars off the boxcars and jumped off the train in Italy. He broke his
left leg in the jump and the Italians nursed him back to health. He was behind
the lines a. long time and learned the Italian language fluently. So, we met in
a convent and would stay together until the war in Italy was over.
Bill
and I were to stay in the nuns convent until the priests and underground found
a safe place for us in Rome. Two weeks later, they found a place in Rome on Via
Vetelonia, where a woman was to hide us in her apartment on the fifth floor. Her
name was Signora Capisoni. She was about forty years old and alone. Her husband
was M.I.A. from the war; he was an Officer of the Italian Army. Mrs. Capisoni
taught me Italian, how to play cards, and fed us. The only time we could go out
in the streets was to get water from a well three blocks away - or to buy eggs
on the street. (At this time, eggs were $12.00 a dozen.) Cigarettes were very
hard to come by (generally through Black Market). This woman had to be paid somehow,
especially, since she had to buy food and food costs money.
The priest had
told US to get money or Civilian clothes we would have to go to the "Swiss
Legation", which was in Rome. Being Swiss and a neutral country, they would
help anyone - not only P.O.W.,s. We found the Swiss Legation and the gentlemen
there asked what we wanted. Bill said we needed Italian Liras (money) some toilet
articles, socks, shirt, and underwear. All we had to do was sign our name, rank
and Army serial number. When we got the money, we gave the lady where we were
staying some and she bought the food. I believe about four times we received money
from Switzerland.
After a couple of weeks, two more escaped P.O.W.'s
were brought in our house. One soldier from South Africa - his first name was
Louie; I do not remember his last name. Another young American from Pennsylvania
- his name was Bob Schultz. Now, there are four of us plus the woman. Bill and
I got bored staying in the house all the time, so finally we told Mrs. Capisoni
we were going out and look about the city of Rome. She said you will be caught
in a "Round Up". As I said before, the Italians were out of the war,
and there were a lot of young ex-soldiers roaming around Rome.
Now,
I will explain the "Round Ups". The Germans would block off a square
of streets with machine guns and some time tanks and gather up all the youths
in this area and put them into trucks and drive them to the German front lines
and make them dig trenches and bury their dead for three days. They would then
drive them back to Rome and let them go. Bob Schultz was one who was caught in
one of these round ups.
Bob Robb knew some elderly families in a small
town outside Rome. These people were hard working farmers. They grew all kinds
of fruits and vegetables. So, Bill and I would leave Rome in the morning, walk
and take a bus to this town of Torsobianzia. They would give us vegetables, chicken,
kerchofie, etc. to bring back to our apartment in Rome. This helped the woman
a lot, because we would not have to pay for it. We did this on an average of once
a week.
We also got to know Rome pretty well. We knew what trolleys or bus
to take. We went into the wine shops and ordered bottles of Vino and sat and listened
to the old Italian men talking about the American and British bombing their homes
and land. One day, we went to the library and got a book in English and then returned
them in ten days. We went to a carnival in Rome one weekend and watched these
six-foot German soldiers riding the "Merry Go Round" and eating ice
cream cones.
We were stopped by two Germans one day. Their truck broke
down and one asked in Italian if we would know how to start it. Bill took a look
at it and told them they were out of gas. They laughed and laughed and thanked
us. These are some of the things that happened to us in Rome.
Another
time, we were on a trolley going to the country and the trolley all of a sudden
stopped. German S.S. troops and Italian "Black Shirts" (in Italian comechi
nero) climbed aboard. In Italian, One of the comechi nero said, "Everyone
show their identification cards as we approach you." (Everyone had to have
an identification card in Rome -- where you lived, job you had or student, age,
and a photo of you.) Bill had a false one made up by a priest who did this. (I
had my photo taken but did not have my card yet, because the priest was caught
and shot - so I never got one.) I said to Bill, "You have a card. There is
no sense both of us getting arrested. Get away from me." There were steel
bars on the windows of the trolley and I could not escape that way. Both exist
were covered. I just could not get off. I thought I was doomed!
Bill
stuck right by me though. The trolley was packed with people - sitting, standing
like pickles in a jar. They started checking, got discouraged, and said, "Everyone
hold up your card and photo over your heads." I took my wallet out and just
stuck it up eye level. They looked and looked and said, "It is well, go on."
Thank the Lord, I was saved! (You realize, I am an American soldier in civilian
clothes, behind enemy lines - which means only one thing --- shot as a spy and
no one can do anything about it. )
We lived on the fifth floor and on
the bottom floor was a wine shop. Italians drink a lot of wine, like we drink
water. One night things went bad in the street and someone shot a German Soldier
as he went by on a motorcycle and killed him. The German High Command said if
this ever happens again, they would line up twenty-five civilians and shoot them.
This incident got us scared. Bill and I decided to leave Via Veteloni and move
out to the countryside to a small town called Torso-Sianza. We stayed in Bill's
friend's farmhouse - "Old Piedro", his wife, one 14-year-old boy, and
one little girl about 5 years old. All beautiful Italian people, so happy to hide
us on their property. We ate in the farmhouse, but slept in a smaller building
away from the house. We slept on hay on the floor with a few blankets.
When "Old Piedro" went to Rome for provisions, he would load a small
two-wheel cart with hay, and Bill and I would get under the hay to hide, as we
had to go through a German roadblock. A little old donkey pulled the cart. When
we went through the roadblock, the only passenger was "Old Piedro".
They would just ask him where he was going, and he had to be back through the
roadblock before dark, as no civilian was allowed out after it got dark.
One day we went in to Rome, as I had to get a shave and haircut. Bill is still
doing all the talking in Italian, as he was excellent at it. But this day, he
said, "You go in the barber shop and say to the barber... 'Son Jardno' (good
day) 'Capelli regulary' (regular hair cut). That's all you have got to say."
So, I tried it. I went in and said what Bill told me, but the barber kept on talking.
I could not answer him. So, finally I stared at him in the mirror and gave him
a big wink. He shut up immediately. The haircut and shave, as I remember came
to forty cents. I gave him $1.00 in Italian Liras, and he thanked me three times.
I guess he thought it was a great tip.
After Rome fell to the Allies,
Bill and I returned to this barbershop. I said to the barber, "Do you remember
me?" He said, "Oh, yes. But, I thought you were a German. I see now
you are American." The five barbers got out the wine and cognac and had a
party.
As I said earlier, the Italians were out of the War, and a lot
of the Italian youth were like us - hiding from the Germans. Bill and I got together
with six of the young Italians and harassed them every chance we could. Years
ago, the Italians had prepared for the invasion of their country. These young
men whom we were with, dug a huge cave in the side of a hill about the size of
a dining room. They even planted berry bushes over the mouth of the cave, so no
one else could find it. We lived in this cave for weeks. There was water, wine,
bread, etc. to eat and drink.
One night we came out, and there was a
group of German soldiers in an open field with a bonfire, playing music and singing
"Lee, Lee, Martain" - a favorite march tune. The six of us crept up
and opened fire on them and killed most of them. We also blew up some of their
trucks. All of this was done in the darkness of night. We never got caught. It
was dangerous and we probably should not have done this; but they were our enemies!
The Germans did a lot of bad things to the Italian people. For example:
they would just come upon a farmer who had cows and help themselves to the cattle.
They would bring the cattle to Rome to a slaughterhouse. They would then sell
the beef to the Italian people. They also killed a few Catholic priests. Louie,
the escaped soldier from South Africa and Bob Schultz from Pennsylvania also came
out in the country and joined us for a month. It is now about the middle week
in May 1944. Now, we moved back to "Old Piedro" farm. Still plenty of
German soldiers all around. They were always coming to the farm and asking for
eggs or wine. Piedro would give them eggs but would always say he did not have
any wine. The Italians would dig holes in their farm and put the wine in the ground.
It was hidden from the soldiers, and it also stayed cool in the ground.
When the Italian farmers cut their hay, they would stack huge piles of it throughout
the fields. We were always looking for a place to hide - so at night, we would
hollow out the haystacks, pulling out the hay from the front and middle and throwing
it on the top of the stack. We would leave a small entrance, so we could crawl
in. It made a nice cool place to hide when there were Germans around, and also
a place to escape the hot sun in May and June.
We used these haystacks for
some time until one day some "spit fire" airplanes started strafing
the haystacks. You see, we did not know the Germans used to stack hay on top of
the ammunition to hide it. One day, a plane was strafing it and the haystack blew
up. So, the planes knew they saw haystacks and would strafe them, because they
knew they had hid the ammo in them.
Another incident while we were in
the country was …this Italian woman was spying on us. (She was a Fascist.)
She was working for the Germans and a neighbor told us this. Bill, three young
Italians, and I went to her house, which was poorly built and burned it down.
She had a bicycle built for two, so Bill and I took that. We would ride all over
Rome on it. In fact we rode one day to see the Coliseum. (Years ago, they would
put people in this area and turn the lions loose to kill the people.)
Bill and I are again going back to Rome and find another house to hide in. The
underground found one north of Rome. A young single girl lived with her father.
The father was a conductor on one of Rome's trolleys. The girl was going with
a German SS trooper just to get money out of him to buy food for us. They would
be in one room and four of us escaped prisoners in the next. So, we had to be
real quiet. We did not stay there very long, as it became to dangerous.
We
went to another house in Rome, where the man and woman with two young daughters
lived. (I cannot remember their last names.) The daughters' names were Guiseppina
and Teresa, both very nice Italian girls. (In fact, I have pictures of them that
I will enter in an album that I am putting together.) I
The father said to
us one night, "You can stay here, but please do not get too friendly with
my daughters. If you want to meet girls, I work at a Rome theatre where there
are plenty of showgirls. If you want to come to the theatre tomorrow, I will have
a table on the sidewalk cafe for you. I will have two girls come out and sit,
talk, and have a bottle of wine on me." So, that is just what we did. Don't
get me wrong; these were just friendly girls who were wild about meeting an American
and Scotsman. It was lots of fun.
Bill knew a very rich Italian man
and wife. He ran a huge biscuit factory in Rome. On two different Sundays, they
invited us to dinner at their lovely home. He opened up a closet door one day
and said to help yourself to any suit of clothes we would like. He said it was
free. I picket out a gray pinstriped, single-breasted suit. He also gave me a
beautiful white silk shirt. Bill also picked out a navy blue suit and a shirt
of some kind. They had pictures of Primo Canera all over their house. Primo was
the World Champion Boxer at that time from Rome, Italy.
He also wanted
to give us money, but we refused. (I have a picture of the Biscuit Factory owner's
wife and child, which I will be putting my album. You can see how rich they were
by the clothes they are wearing in the photo.)
All of Rome's newspapers
were telling about the Americans bombing Mt. Cassino. There was an Abbey at the
top of Mt. Cassino - I do not know how many priests or monks were there at the
time of the bombing. There was also a large number of German soldiers there with
huge guns. Every time our soldiers tried to run the Germans off the mountain,
they would mow them down. It was impossible to take the mountain by our infantry.
So, we, the Americans and British, had to go over and bomb the hell out of them
with planes. Finally, the fight for Mt. Cassino was won. The planes bombed and
the infantry charged up and took over. They leveled the Abbey to the bare ground
- killing most of the Germans. Now, our army had a good start to conquer Rome.
Bill and I are now back to the country at "Old Piedros Farm".
There are about eight young Italians with us. We are living in underground tunnels
and a cave in the side of a hill. Near us is the small town of Torsobianza. We
would loaf around during the day and have guards out to watch for any Germans
who might come around our territory. At night, we slept in the cave. This went
on for a couple of weeks. Finally, one morning at 5:30, two of the young guards
came in the cave and hollered, 'The Americans are here - here in the town next
to us. There are dead German soldiers all over the place. Bill and I said, "Oh
- go away, there are no American troops here yet. Yes, they all said as one of
the guards showed a pack of Camel cigarettes. We all yelled, let's go and meet
them. We cam out of the cave and sure enough, the 88th Infantry was coming through.
We talked to an American officer and told him who we were. I showed
him my "dog tags" and we followed them into the City of Rome. There
were German tanks burning in the streets and snipers shooting all over the place
in the city. In six hours, Rome was completely taken. It is now June 4, 1944,
we are free and so are the people of Rome.
We were interrogated by American
officers and told them our story. They turned us over to a British outfit. I guess
they were going to stay in Rome to keep things under control. The British said
we had to get out of the civilian clothes. So, they gave us British uniform, shorts,
knee socks, heavy shoes, shirt, and a beret.
They gave me the name of
a captain who was in Naples and said I was to report to him as soon as possible.
I answered, "How do I get to Naples?" They gave me a map and said, "Hitch
hike"! We do not have any transportation for you." So, with my nice
new British uniform on, I did just that. I hitch hiked to Naples, Italy. (Naples
was already in American control.)
I found the address he gave me but
took some time, as Naples is a large seaport city. The captain I was to see ran
a. P.O.W. camp with hundreds of German prisoners. He asked me a lot of questions
about what we did behind the lines and what we saw. He told me to get out of the
British uniform and he would supply me with one of ours. He issued everything
socks, shoes, complete uniform, underwear, etc. He also let me shower and sleep.
He told me I would be there about a week before he could get me a plane to Algiers,
Algeria, on July 21, 1944. Then from Algiers I would be put on a ship for Hamption
Roads, Virginia. We were ten days getting to Virginia. I stayed in Camp Pickett,
Virginia for one week, they flew three soldiers and me from the 101st Airborne
to Washington, D.C. They put us up in a beautiful hotel and gave us all money
from the American Red Cross. Each morning for two hours we had to talk and answer
questions from high officials at a building in Washington. After that, we were
on our own to do whatever we wanted - but each morning we had to go back to interrogation.
We had a great time, drank a lot of beer, and ate in nice restaurants.
I was given a ten- day furlough from Washington D.C. to Malone, New York, where
my family lived and also my girlfriend, Vivian LaPage, who has been my wife now
for 52 years. I spent ten wonderful days with friends and family. It is now about
August 1944. After my ten-day furlough, I have to report to Camp Pickett, Virginia,
for four months to train new men for overseas duty.
After I was shipped to Camp Craft, South Carolina, for two months - training men
in the infantry for overseas. Next I was shipped to Camp-Gordon, Georgia, in March
1945. On April 1, I got a furlough to go home to marry my sweetheart on April
3. We were married in my wife's hometown of Fort Covington, New York.
We left for Camp Gordon, Georgia, after a honeymoon to go back in the Army. We
went by train to Augusta, Georgia, from Malone, New York. We found an apartment
on Green Street in Augusta. I was allowed to leave Camp Gordon each night to stay
with my wife in Augusta. We lived there until June 1945. My wife had to take a
train home, as she was about to have our first child - Bonnie. July through October,
I still trained men,-and one October 10, 1945, 1 was discharged as a Staff Sergeant.
Now, I am a civilian again, and we have a baby girl on February 15,1946.
(She is now 51 years old at this writing.) I got a job in Malone in a clothing
store called "Stem Clothes", that opened in April 1947. Prior to this
job, I worked in a milk plant. We also have a son, Stephen, who is 39 years old,
and a son, David, who is 46 years old.
On May 1, 1947, 1 received a
letter from the Finance Off ice U.S. Army, St. Louis, Mississippi. The letter
states:
Dear Mr. Dumas: This office has been advised by the Office of
the Chief of Finance, Washington, D.C., that on 8th March 1944, while a member
of the U.S Armed Forces in Italy, you received a payment of Emergency Relief,
subject to payment at a later date of 2, 000 Italian Lire ($108.12 American dollars
- converted at the rate of .05405) from the Swiss Legation in Rome, Italy, through
Captain Leonardo Trippi, Inspector of War Prisoner Camps, which -obligation has
now been transferred to the War Department for collection. While it is not the
intention of this office to disturb you with collection letters, this indebtedness
not withstanding your faithful service to your country during the time of War,
nevertheless represents a legitimate obligation due the United States and should
be repaid with the least practicable delay.
Remittance should be drawn in
favor of the Treasurer of the United States and forwarded to this office.
Very truly yours,
C.F. Hathaway, Jr.
Captain, F.D.
Assistant
Finance Officer
I contacted the Honorable Clarence E.
Kilburn, House of Representatives, Washington DC). Mr. Kilburn was born and lived
in Malone. He took care of the whole matter headlines in the Washington Evening
Star on Tuesday, May 20, reads--
Army apologizes for 'DUNNING" local
GI on Escape Cash. The War Department, a hasty review, revealed the demand for
repayment was a- "mistake" and it was unfortunate and regretted.
I have the telegram from Washington, D.C. which was sent to a lawyer Harold W,
on May 19, 1947, it states ---
Was department admits mistake in Dumas Case
and apologizes.
Signed
Clarence E Kilburn
This
is a true experience from Floyd J. Dumas - dated Easter Sunday, March 30, 1999
