The following account by Bob Tayek A/274, appears in the
Fall 2000 Issue of the Trailblazer, pp 20 - 23.Sometime in 1943-44 the Army discontinued (deactivated)
regimental bands, leaving only division bands to supply necessary
music for an entire division. That leads to the tale of the 274th
Infantry Regimental Band known as the 'Blues Chasers."
In 1944 (prior to the Normandy invasion) a wholesale deactivation
of Air Force Cadet training and ASTP units brought former Infantry
and Artillery men back to the ground forces where they previously
served. Only the cadets who came directly into Army Air Force Cadet
Programs stayed in the program. The rest of us had passed cadet
exams and started into cadet training. I was slated for bombardier
school. That was not to be, though, and I was transferred from the
University of Montana in Missoula to Camp Adair. I had spent six
months in 1943 in the 75th Division at Ft. Leonard Wood, Missouri
and then passed the AAF Cadet exams. It was March 1944 when we
became Infantry replacements at Camp Adair. We weren't too happy to
be back in the Infantry!
The germination of the 'Blues Chasers" began at Camp Adair when a
need arose for company buglers who also performed as company
messengers in combat. Buglers did not pull KP or walk guard, but ran
messages from regimental headquarters to the companies or wherever
(on a bicycle) and blew their calls on 24 hour duty. That role was
"bugle-of-the-guard." The whole was great and I earned my
Pfc.
stripe in such fashion at Camp Adair.
It was inevitable that we put all of our musical talent to work
and the dance band started Camp Adair. My instrument is piano, but I
eventually became the librarian, cymbal player, and occasional bass
drummer in the marching unit. Then, it was back to Ft.
Leonard Wood.
When we moved to Leonard Wood and Col. Sam Conley (West Point,
1924) arrived, he bemoaned the absence of a Table of Organization
for a band at the regimental level. He ordered us to keep working
and he stated that he would move us into Regimental Headquarters
Company. We performed as a marching unit with the original 12, but
expanded to 16 in Europe. When we paraded as a marching band, we
called ourselves "The 16 Flying Jockstraps."
We accumulated a library for the dance band, and somehow I
carried it aboard the SS Mariposa for the 10-day passage from Boston
to Marseille. On the way over we performed nightly from a small
studio. At the staging area in Marseille, we were pulled from our
companies as Col. Conley had promised. We were officially designated
a guard platoon on detached service.
Our instruments were put into storage in Strasbourg after our
last performance on New Year's Eve. At this time the line units of
all three regiments were engaged in serious tactical moves along the
Rhine. In the month of January (1945), as the regiment entered
combat with four different divisions, we moved the supply room 15
times and did other duties as the guard platoon; but we didn't see
our instruments. An additional duty assigned at this time was
handling the body bags of our KIAs.
Lt. Col. Cheves became Regimental Executive Officer on February I
while we were in reserve. His first question was, "Where's that
band?" We immediately went 60 kilometers to Strasbourg, got our
instruments and were playing for our guys that afternoon from the
beds of our two trucks. We had commandeered a piano fairly early on,
lashed it on to one of our two trucks enabling us to pull into a
location, back the trucks side by side and begin to play.
Pfc. Bill Schneeweis (Trumpet) was our leader. He and four others
were from Los Angles, Alabama, Arkansas, New Jersey, Pennsylvania,
Florida, Massachusetts, Kansas, Iowa, Ohio, Michigan, Illinois, West
Virginia, and Washington, D.C. were also represented. We were
quality musicians thankful for the role we had.
After that we did a combination of duties in and out of combat
situations. Guard duty, manning check points (especially in the
offensive at Saarbrucken), picking up and marshaling POWs at forward
positions, and playing when possible for troops in reserve.
Somewhere along the way, I sent back to the States for
arrangements called "Big Band Manuscripts" which were published
copies of the great hits of the top bands. Now we had a quality
library with plenty of great music to play and listen to.
On one occasion, six of us in top hats and whatever were playing
jazz in front of a bombed-out church; an AP photographer took a
picture which circulated through the States as an AP wirephoto. We
received copies for three months after. It was printed backwards!
With Col. Conley's continued support, we were given permission to
screen incoming replacements for musicians. We immediately recruited
and expanded to a 20-man roster by the end of combat. One of our
recruits was Morris (Moe) Hoffman from Philadelphia, who became our
lead sax player. We were part of a 24 member Special Service Platoon
in Regimental Headquarters Company.
In April, after our experiences during combat, we settled in
Blebrich (Wiesbaden) on the Rhine. We crossed the river on Easter
Sunday and then settled into a very busy summer.
We had a false alarm about V-E Day on April 28th and paraded up
and down the street in Biebrich. Shortly after the real V- E Day, we
had a three-day pass to Paris and played at the Red Cross "Rainbow
Corner".
I sometimes have had qualms about being where I was in
Headquarters, but I also realize that we did make a great
contribution. Except for our duty handling POWs, we were not on the
front line but our guard function was extremely important and at
times dangerous. No post or check point was left to only one man
(there were constant warnings about infiltrating Germans in American
uniforms, driving American vehicles), and we did experience the
confusion of combat, especially at Saarbrucken.
We were always within artillery range of incoming and did a lot
of ducking and diving into ditches, sometimes prisoners and all. We
had our convoys buzzed by lone German planes which sounded like
coffee grinders. Manning check points on town perimeters (CP
locations) was vital. Sometimes even the reserve locations where we
played had experienced random barrages earlier in the same day.
My stateside bunkmate in A/274, George Matosh, did not survive
the first two weeks of combat. He was a tough, bright kid who had
also come from the ASTP.
In May Cpl. McChesney went home on points
so we were now a group
of Pfc's. At Col. Conley's request, Bill Schneeweis and Freddie
Powell wrote a regimental song. We also produced a show which we
presented regularly.
Every Wednesday we played the waterfront boathouse/cafe enlisted
men's club. Every Saturday we played an officer's dance/social at
the Colonel's residence. Just about every other night we split into
small combos and played for some company in the area, sometimes
traveling 50-60 kilometers for the performance. On Bastille Day we
went to the French Zone to honor their independence day.
Basically we entertained on demand, but the Colonel's requests
came first, such as entertaining for his breakfast guests. For our
theme I did an arrangement of the Division's official march, "Oh
Susannah!". Unfortunately, no recording of that interpretation
exists.
About once a week we presented our show and concerts at the
Kurhaus and park in Wiesbaden to any and all troops in the area. The
park had a marvelous bandsheu and contained Roman ruins.
A river steamer was trapped between bombed-out bridges in
Mainz and Bingen. It was used for Sunday afternoon excursions and,
of course, we played on deck. July 4, 1945 was "275th Field Day" so
the band was "padded" to 24 members. The entire regiment paraded in
Wiesbaden with boating events on the Rhine following. We made it
into "Life" magazine.
Our most important assignments were military formations. We
played for one or two decoration ceremonies every week. When the
command "pass in review" was given, the "Flying Jockstraps" stepped
off to the strains of Sousa's "Washington Post March."
The "Washington Post March" is one of the more difficult marches
to play on the move because of all the notes it contains. Having
memorized all the standard marches, though, we never had to use
sheet music on the march. We were proud and thankful to contribute.
Col. Conley always said he would "get us home early." When we got
word of his transfer to an occupation assignment, we formed up on
the lawn of his residence in Bad Schwalbach and struck up the
Regimental Song. He bade us farewell, individually shaking hands
with each of us. I don't think there was a dry eye there. He then
went on his way.
True to his word, though, we were shipped home as "low-pointers,"
classified as clerks (over-strength) scheduled for reassignment in
the states. The clerk designation was legitimate since many
"low-point" clerks were utilized to do the processing of the
"high-point" 3rd Division personnel who came into the 70th for
shipment home and discharge.
We also still functioned as a band on the trip home. We even
played the London "Rainbow Corner." Our last appearance though was
the last day on the Queen Elizabeth I. With the ship's main lounge
as the theater, we played eight consecutive shows of 50 minutes
each. We were told that the entire regiment was on board. Quite an
audience.
We arrived in New York City on October 9, 1945 and moved right on
to Camp Kilmer, New Jersey. We intended to try to stay together upon
reassignment. The California group, though, had the opportunity to
fly to the west coast. The rest of us went to our destinations by
train. That was goodbye for the "Blues Chasers."
My wife, Bernadette and I were married during the 45-day
furlough, and then I traveled to Camp Polk, Louisiana for
reassignment. Points went down though and I was discharged on
December 6, 1945.
The library was shipped to my home in Cleveland. In 1947 I sent
it to Bill Schneeweis in Los Angles for use with a band he was
forming. Unfortunately we lost contact after that.
It's 55 years since this story ensued and there are many more
anecdotes and events that can be recounted, but there is no room
here. We had devotion and loyalty to Colonel Sam Conley and fondly
recall how he frequently introduced us proudly to visiting
dignitaries and buddies with the words, "These are my boys!" It was
true cross-loyalty.
1945 and have experienced a wonderful musical career. I also took
advantage of the GI Bill for a BA and MA in Education, spending a
rewarding career teaching political science, history, English, and
co-writing and teaching a human relations program. I retired in
1980. Since 1990 I have served as an officer in Local 4, currently
serving as Vice-President.
On a "deja vu" trip in 1978, the 10-foot grand piano was still at
the Kurhaus. We (my wife, friends and I), had a snack at the outdoor
portion of the Kurhaus Restaurant (which wasn't operating in 1945).
The proprietor of the restaurant survived the Russian front as a
German Infantryman and owned the house the band occupied in 1945. We
had quite a talk. It was fascinating; and cordial.
About four or five years ago, I reconnected with George Ambler,
our euphonium player and regimental photographer, now in South Bend,
Indiana; and my buddy and musical mentor, Moe Hoffman in
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. We have visited, corresponded, and talk
frequently by phone. We mutually thank the Lord for our good fortune
over the years. I was also able to see our bass player and drummer,
Freddie Powell (now deceased) in Washington, D. C. frequently over
the years. Tempus fugit!
