A Vet’s Story – Morris Metz

War is Hell

“Kill and destroy, that’s what they teach you in war, that’s all you learn. Stab, stick a knife in your back, use a bayonet, anything to get the job done.”

These are not the words one would expect to hear from 79-year-old Morris Metz with his bright blue eyes, small stature, and tiny wire glasses. In fact, it is difficult to picture this man, who loves to tell jokes and who insists on having his wife accompany him everywhere because they are newlyweds “of 56 years,” holding a weapon. But, the truth is, Morris Metz is a World War II veteran who has come with his wife, Dot, to the Alpha Phi sorority lounge at Lehigh University to tell his story.

Metz was born in 1925 in Wind Gap, Pa., the leading Slate Belt area of Pennsylvania. Metz had four siblings, three brothers and a sister. His father followed in his grandfather’s footsteps and became a cabinet maker. However, during the Depression, Metz’s father lost his job and was forced to peddle bread and cakes. Metz’s father then became part of the Work Progress Administration, a program created to help people facing financial difficulties during the Great Depression, for $20 a week, and eventually ended up working at a furniture moving facility.

Metz attended a junior high school that was a three quarters of a mile walk. However, it was during Metz’s years at Pen Argyl High School that two significant events took place. The first event occurred on Sept. 1, 1939 when Germany invaded Poland without a declaration of war. The next event was the bombing of Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941, when Metz was a junior in school.

“That was our awakening time,” said Metz, “that was our Sept. 11.”

In fact, when his class discussed President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s speech referring to the bombing as a “day that will live in infamy,” one student said, “We never have lost a war.”

“Neither have the Japanese,” responded his teacher. This is when Metz decided that he wanted to be part of the war effort. Metz and a friend tried to get into the Navy, but because of his poor eyesight, Metz was not accepted.

However, Metz did not have to wait long for his wish to come true. In June of 1943, the same time he graduated from high school, Metz received his Selective Service notice. However, whether or not to go to war was not a decision for Metz or his fellow classmates, it was simply something everyone did during this time. In fact, only one male out of Metz’s graduating class did not enlist. Metz wanted to be part of the war effort so badly that when he went to take his test that September, he memorized the eye chart.

After passing the test, Metz went to New Cumberland, Pa., where he was inducted into the army. He then took an Army General Classification Test, the results of which were used to give people assignments. Because he scored rather high, Metz was assigned to ASTP, the Army Specialized Training Program, which was designed to give the soldiers training and send them to school to learn how to be engineers.

For his basic training program Metz went to Fort Benning, Ga. in October. He graduated from the program in February and was then assigned to go to Washington University in St. Louis.

However, this is when plans went awry. The ASTP was disbanded and the soldiers were told they were going to war.

Many of the members were sent to infantry programs to train to go over seas. Metz was assigned to the 94^th Infantry Division Headquarters Company, 3^rd Battalion, 301 Regiment, an anti-tank platoon, stationed in Camp McCain, Miss.

On Aug. 6, 1944, Metz and 17,000 other soldiers left from New York and sailed across the Atlantic on the Queen Elizabeth, the largest ship afloat.

“There I was, sailing on the largest sail afloat not knowing what I was getting myself into,” said Metz.

The ship docked in Genoch, Scotland where Metz trained for three weeks.

Metz described his first night out of the United States as scary because no one had any idea of what to expect.

However, Metz also realized that he was on an adventure and he had to accept the possibility of being killed or wounded, he had to accept that this could be his fate.

On Labor Day, Metz crossed the English Channel to France, where he and his troop was given the assignment to watch two holding paddocks. The paddocks contained 60,000 Germans who were trapped after the French invasion into the two cities of St. Laurient and St. Lazer.

On Dec. 4, Metz was on duty when the enemy aimed at the American pillbox and a skirmish ensued. One of Metz’s friends was wounded, while another was killed.

Metz was upset over the loss of his friend, however, he also realized and accepted the incident as a part of the territory that went along with war.

“It was a shock, but it was a feeling of, ‘that’s war,’” said Metz.

Some might be led to believe that anyone capable of making a statement such as this one must be a rather cold-hearted person. However, Metz could not be more different from this description. Even as he speaks of war Metz’s friendly demeanor shines through as he constantly manages to interject a joke or throw his wife a look of admiration.

Metz and his troop remained where they were until mid-December, when they were moved up to the front. This is when the Battle of the Bulge, the largest land battle fought by the U.S. Army, began. There were 19,000 people were killed and 87,000 casualties within 41 days.

Metz describes the conditions during this battle as being extremely poor.

“You used your helmet for a bathtub, and if you had to go to the bathroom you used it also,” he joked. He was able to take only two or three showers within six months, and to keep his feet dry he would rotate the same two pairs of socks, wearing one pair on his feet and while warming the other pair under his clothes.

Metz set sail for home on Jan. 16, 1946. However, he had some severely damaged teeth that had to be repaired, so he was not discharged until Feb. 6. Upon arriving home Metz collected his $20 for 26 weeks of service and packaged his possessions from the war. He then went straight to Lafayette College, where he met his future wife Dot. After graduation Metz became part of the staff of Mack Publishing in Washington, D.C, which he retired from in 1985.

Speaking of war is not as easy. For years, Metz did not and could not discuss his experiences.

“When we came home we went about our business and forgot about it because we were all doing the same thing” said Metz. In fact, it was not until his son, Doug, saw the movie “Saving Private Ryan” that he spoke about the war with his children.

Although Metz is now willing to share his experience, the subject does not seem any easier to approach. Metz speaks in a casual tone, but the way in which he twirls and pulls a rubber band with his hands shows that he is not as ease as he would like to appear. Even the way in which he switches topics to other peoples’ lives seems to be an attempt to stray from his own experiences.

As for the state of affairs today, Metz is not completely satisfied. He would like his family to live in a world not plagued by violence.

“I have sons and grandchildren. Looking ahead, you’re just so fearful for their future, the terrorism, the killing or anything detrimental to happiness,” he said

While he feels that what the United States did after Sept. 11 was done well, he still believes that if Osama bin Laden had been pursued to a greater extent, and if everything possible had been done to negotiate a settlement and bring some form of state for the Palestinians, then perhaps there would be peace right now.

Metz’s experiences with war have led him to the belief that war should be stopped. And, he has devoted much of his life to this belief by becoming part of “Great Decisions” a program that allows war veterans to come talk to school children about their experiences.

The program began in 1999 with the help of another anti-tank man, Bud Fluck, and a woman named Judy Greenhall. The three got their start when they went to Palisades Middle School to speak to 200 children about the war.

“The first time I went in front of the kids, I thought to myself, what the devil am I getting myself into?” said Metz. However, despite Metz’s wariness, the program was a success and continues to thrive. Now war veterans travel all over to speak to middle school students to speak about their encounters with war.

“War is hell, anything you can do to show the horrors of war you have to do in hopes that one day the war will be obsolete,” said Metz, “that isn’t going to happen, but you can hope and pray that it does.”

With that statement Metz finishes speaking. The interview then ends in the most appropriate way an interview about war should end, with a hug from both Metz and his wife. Despite the gruesome topic Metz and his wife came to talk about, it is not anger, violence, or sadness that Metz impresses upon the listener, but rather the feelings of love, warmth, and hope for the future.

Lindsey R. Lachman is a senior at Lehigh University. Her hometown is Livingston, N.J.