Walter N. Pruiksma

taken in front of his Clifton, N.J. home November 1943	taken in Chatelet, Belgium September 1944

In the last half of December 1944, during World War II, I was one of three American military policemen who manned a traffic control post in Gembloux.

Our traffic control point was at the railing crossing, on the road from Brussels to Namur and Charleroi to Liege. I remember the winter of 1944, because I never was so cold in my life. Whenever anyone talks to me about cold weather, I think of Gembloux.

It was a very busy time because it was during the Battle of the Bulge. I remember British tanks took defensive position, at the crossing. Later, they moved towards Namur.

We were alerted to be on the lookout for Germans impersonating American soldiers. One day, a vehicle approached from the direction of Brussels. It was a German vehicle painted olive green and on each door was a big white star, indication it was a commandeered vehicle. In the vehicle were two men wearing old-style aviator leather headgear. They looked suspicious and I ordered the driver to stop. Instead, he made a right turn, crossed over the tracks, and then a quick left turn on to the road to Namur. I raised my rifle to fire, but, because there were civilians in the line of fire, I did not shoot. Nearby was a military radio. I alerted the troops ahead and gave them a description of the car. Within an hour, an infantry unit brought the vehicle and the two men to Gembloux.

While this was happening, our commanding officer arrived on the scene. I was asked to report to headquarters. The captain questioned me. He said, "Are these the two men who failed to stop at your command?" I replied, "Yes sir." He said that it was a good thing that I did not fire, because it would have created an international incident. The captain informed me the men were the Belgium Ambassador to Mexico, and his brother-in-law and that they just arrived in Belgium and were on there way to visit family. I asked the captain if I could speak. He granted my request. I directed my remarks to the two men and said, "In the future, if an American military policeman orders you to stop, I advise you to do so, because the next time there might not be civilians in the line of fire." I was dismissed and returned to my post.

During this period, the railroad was strafed every night. One night, the German pilot dropped an anti-personnel bomb, which landed in front of the Brussels road. Another night, after one of the strafing runs, I noticed a light in the attic of a nearby home. I assumed it was a fire. We ran to the home, knocked on the door and told the people there was a fire in the attic. I grabbed a kettle of water from the stove and ran up to the attic and put the fire out. Fortunately, there was little damage.

One afternoon, we saw a parachute descending in our direction. We recognized him to be German. He landed and was captured. The pilot was not a young man, but appeared to be an older, seasoned pilot. Unfortunately, I did not get his name. He had a shoulder injury, but showed no sign of pain. I took him to a nearby medical car, which was on the railroad tracks. At this point, I realized my traffic control point was unattended. Being he was the doctor's patient, I made the decision to request two of the medical units soldiers, to come aboard the medical car to guard the prisoner. I instructed the major that the prisoner was solely his responsibility and to make arrangements to have him transported to a prisoner of war camp. I assure you that the major was not happy with my decision. I returned to my post.

I remember having my picture taken at a studio in Gembloux, which I sent home to my mother and father. I also remember spending Christmas in Gembloux, but not New Years Eve. We were replaced by another unit of military policemen and taken to a rest camp near by. The next day, I learned that a couple of American soldiers were killed in Gembloux, but I never heard how they were killed.

Other things I remember about Gembloux was that the people treated us very well. I remember hearing about a person named Madeline Melotte and that her father owned the steel mill. The railroad workers always had a coal fire burning, which kept us warm. We would be alerted when trains left Namur. In the darkest of night, the railroad workers would put their ear to the tracks and as the train approached, he would signal us to stop the traffic. At the crossing, there was a mill, I believe it was a sugar cane mill, which the U.S. Army used as a supply depot. We lived in a small hotel a few buildings from the crossing. I remember terrified civilians fleeing from the advancing Germans and the trainloads of American soldiers passing through from Antwerp. Of course, I'll always remember the cold and the snow.

My unit, Company D 783rd Military Police Bn., landed on Utah Beach, Normandy, on June 10, 1944. We directed traffic on the beachhead, across Normandy, France, Belgium and Holland. It was a great experience to live through. There are other stories to tell, but what is contained in this letter is my Gembloux experiences.

You might wonder why I am writing a half-century later. It's just an old man reflecting on experiences he had as a young twenty year old soldier.

In closing, I salute those residents of Gembloux, who lived through those difficult times. I will always be proud of the small part I had to help in their liberation. One old timer told me that when the Germans passed through he was impressed, but, when he witnessed the volume of American equipment, which passed through Gembloux, he felt overwhelmed.

Walter & his mother, Jessie Oosterhout Pruiksma, November 1945 he had just returned from overseas	side panel of the 1st Engineer Special Brigade, Utah Beach, Normandy, France see Co. D 783rd M.P. Bn. inscribed on monument

Infantrymen often have described the Corps of Military Police as the soldiers who posted "off limits" signs even before towns were liberated. But there's one place where the Infantrymen found no signs; there were no complaints about the early presence of MPs. That was the Normandy beaches.

MPs crossed the narrow belts of sand at H-Hour, D-Day, and began clearing vehicles from the beaches, evacuating wounded, guarding prisoners in an improvised cage and unloading shells. In the pre-dawn air invasion, MPs had come in fighting with the 82nd and 101st Divisions.

They were not immune. The same murderous fire caught them as well as their infantry buddies. In some ways it was even tougher for the MPs. Once posted, the MP had to stand up and take it. His duty didn't allow him to duck into a foxhole. If he became a casualty, another MP replaced him.

Helping division, Corps and Army MPs were especially trained amphibious MP companies, the 210th, the 214th and 449th normally assigned to Corps but now attached to the famed Engineer Special Brigades. These outfits, experts on beach traffic, were in at the beginning.

D-Day traffic wasn't the only problem. Increasing numbers of PWs jampacked cages. Immediate help was imperative. Late in the afternoon, June 6, 1944, the 302nd MP Escort Co., composed of 57 percent limited service men, came ashore. The unit suffered casualties in men and equipment before relieving 1st Inf. Div. MPs of their stockade responsibility. Several days later, the 595th took charge of three beach evacuation pens while the 301st was busily occupied with PWs in another section.

Cos. C and D, 783rd MP Bn. directed beach traffic on D plus 4, and the entire battalion, along with the 713th, followed armies thereafter.

MPs looked the enemy in the teeth and hit back the best way they knew how on that memorable D-Day. They guided the Infantrymen from the beach death traps to rendezvous points. Airborne MPs engaged in close-in fighting with the 101st Airborne Division.

With traditional thoroughness, MPs turned in a job well done, a performance which was to be repeated many times during von Rundstedt's famous break through drive in December 1944.

During the crucial hours of the German drive, the Corps of Military Police, with units assigned to every echelon of command, became a prime controlling influence, the pivot on which the holding and regrouping of American troops depended.

MPs had a firm grip on traffic. In one sector, the Third Army began to move northward with a stream of veteran infantry and armored units. Half-tracks, two and a half-ton trucks, tanks, jeeps clogged the roads. Traffic jams seemed inevitable. But the inevitable didn't happen. Brig. Gen. Hobart R. Gay, Gen Patton's chief of staff, commending the 503rd and the 512th MP Bns. praised them for their "extremely efficient and untiring efforts in expediting the recent heavy movement of troops in the Third Army area."

MP units perfected a tight security network. In the rear areas, the MPs were posted to guard all key bridges; patrols scoured the countryside for parachutists and enemy agents: road blocks were thrown up from Army zones through Paris to the coast.

When the infantrymen stormed ashore D-Day in Southern France, August 15, 1944, MPs again gave efficient support, following the 6th Army Group's lighting sweep inland.

The above information is just the tip of the iceberg regarding the Military Police efforts contributing to the destruction of the Nazis war machine. There are many individual and unit stories that could be told.

The Corps of Military Police was organized in 1941 as a separate branch of the service. Since its founding, the Corps has spread over the face of the earth.

both pictures taken in Chatelet, Belgium

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