[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 146 (2000), Part 2]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Pages 2686-2687]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]



           ``A SOLDIERS STORY'' TRIBUTE TO MR. WILLIAM ELLIS

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                             HON. DAVE CAMP

                              of michigan

                    in the house of representatives

                        Thursday, March 9, 2000

  Mr. CAMP. Mr. Speaker, I rise today to pay tribute to Mr. William 
Ellis, a decorated soldier

[[Page 2687]]

from World War II. I would like to acknowledge his selfless acts as a 
young Sergeant leading his infantrymen through Germany. His Bronze 
Star, Good Conduct Medal and many other awards demonstrate his bravery 
and patriotism. I am proud to stand and honor this glorious citizen of 
the United States and would like to call his admirable actions to the 
attention of my colleagues in the House of Representatives.
  I have attached for the Record one of Mr. Ellis' first-hand 
experiences, which he shared with me. He has titled it, ``A Soldiers 
Story.''

       The winter of 1944-1945 in Germany was bitter cold. I was a 
     young infantry sergeant, a 19 year old squad leader in an 
     infantry division that had been advancing and fighting in the 
     mountains for sometime. During a lull in the fighting we came 
     across a valley with a cluster of old stone cottages 
     inhabited by farmers. All the young men had gone to war 
     leaving the old folks to fend as best they could. This was a 
     chance to catch a few hours of much needed sleep indoors. 
     After posting perimeter guards nightfall was first 
     approaching and we sat about to find places to stay for 
     awhile. The house I picked out was much like the others, its 
     stone steps worn down in the middle from many generations 
     that had come and gone. An old German couple lived there and 
     seemed pleasant enough. After sharing what few rations I had 
     with them I went over and sat down in front of the fireplace 
     soaking up some welcomed heat. There was not much light, just 
     an oil lamp and the fireplace. The old man came and sat 
     beside me. I took out my pipe which I always carried along 
     with a package of tobacco that my folks had sent from back 
     home. As I filled my pipe I noticed this old man looking at 
     me intensely with a hungering expression in his eyes. In my 
     faltering German I asked him, ``du haben sie pipe ja?'' 
     Whereupon he got up with an alacrity which belied his age and 
     brought down a pipe from atop the mantel and I passed the 
     package of tobacco to him. He put only a small amount in his 
     pipe, ``Nix nix,'' I said and filled his pipe to the brim. 
     There we sat, a young American soldier and an old German 
     farmer, smoking our pipes in silence each with our own 
     thoughts. The silence was broken only once when the old man 
     looked over at me and said, ``pipe goot, ja?'' I replied, 
     ``ja, pipe goot.'' As I got up to go ``sack out'' for a few 
     hours I gave the old man the package of tobacco. Tears rolled 
     down his cheeks as he said ``danko, danko.'' I am now about 
     the same age as was the old man and have thought about the 
     incident a number of times in the intervening years. Each 
     time I have come to the same conclusion, it was a most 
     satisfying conversation.

     

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