Lynn J. Curry, Jason Theriot, Mrs. Curry, another woman:

-Stories of living on Bayou Chene
-Curry comes from a family of 9, his wife a family of 12 (maiden name of Larson)
-Curry’s house was where they held parties and played music
-They used coal oil lamps or a Delco plant later
-Only 3 teachers for 7 grades; 3 churches: Catholic, Baptist and a Methodist—all for 100 families
-Lots of trapping for fish or wild game; Curry had chickens, hogs and cows
-Had to use the bayou channels to get to the towns to trade; went to Catahoula, St. Martinville, New Iberia and Plaquemine

(21:11) the Draft/Training
-All the men in Bayou Chene were drafted under St. Martinville parish; only 2 men did not go because of failed tests
-Turned 18 when they drafted him (1944)
-They had radios and newspapers so they knew there was a war going on
-Sent down to New Orleans then to Fort Hood, Texas for basic training

-Trained as regular infantry men
-Was put in the 82nd Airborne glider-born as an infantry replacement once overseas
-They had a pilot, copilot and 10 other men in the gliders
-Had to hold it right when landing or it could be bad

-Overseas was sent straight to France (towards the end of 1944?)
-Curry was sent to a paratrooper outfit and right into the fighting; first time he had ever seen one

(31:41)
-Story of meeting those from Bayou Chene that were his next door neighbors; Ranger Smith and Cecil Verret
-Was in the Battle of the Bulge; wouldn’t trade for anything the experience he had but he wouldn’t do it again

(36:20)
-Never trained in a glider before his first mission
-Being a glider had more pay though
-Something Curry will never get to do again

(37:11) story of how one of his buddies was sniped in Germany

(39:26)
-Curry’s first trip on a glider was into a combat mission
-Loaded up in France and landed in Germany (might have been the Battle of the Bulge?)
-Story of a man, General Gavin, was a fine man according to Curry
-Story of having to salute to the brass for a meeting and saw General Montgomery

-It was slightly uneasy flying the gliders
-Sometimes the canvas would tear while flying
-Most of Curry’s combat happened during the winter

-Reading from his discharge papers

-Entered the service at the end of 1944
-Did 6 weeks of training and then immediately sent overseas
-Might have landed sometime between August-October
-Took part of 3 campaigns so his letters were never sent and only 1 picture

Transcription Begins:

Lynn J. Curry
Born: 1926
Bayou Chene, Louisiana
Co. L/325th Glider Infantry/82nd Airborne Division

[wife] I lived about a half a mile down the bayou from Lynn. I come from a family of 12, he comes from a family of 9. There was no medicine. We didn’t take all of these nerve pills. Very low-key life. For our entertainment, we had parties with live music or it was recorded on an old graphophone. His house was the house where everybody ganged up. We got married in 1949 and we were the last ones to be married in the little Methodists Church.

My father was a carpenter. He also had nets, hook nets, and he fished.

[wife] We had a Delco Plant later on, but before that we used coal-oil lamps. The way that we kept cool at night was we used a window fan and when the motor would run out of gas that was end of the fan, because nobody got up to fill it during the middle of the night. It was hot, there were a lot of mosquitos, and it was cold. We didn’t fool with anything to protect yourself. [[no mosquito repellent]]

[wife] We had three teachers for the seven grades. Most of the teachers came from the surrounding towns. And most of them married boys from out there. I was a Larson.

[wife] My momma’s grandmother came from Germany and my daddy’s people came from Utah. We had some family from New York. His family came from Maryland.

[wife] They had a Catholic Church, a Methodist Church, and a Baptist Church. There were about 100 families. All of the priest would have to come in by boat, only on Sunday. We had a police constable out there, but there were no doctors or lawyers.

[wife] There was a lot of trapping back there. But we were particular with the fish and wild game. We only ate catfish or gaspargoo, and squirrels and rabbits. We ate crawfish and crabs a few times. It wasn’t something that we lived on everyday. He had chickens and hogs and cows. You had a lot of choice of game out there, but we only ate the mallards and the wood ducks.

[wife] We lived on a house in Lake Deautrive. We didn’t know about hurricanes back then. We just called them bad storms. We a bad storm would come; we’d have to get off of the houseboat.

[wife] My daddy had a grocery store and he would come into town twice a week and bring us fresh vegetables. Everything had to be brought over on a boat: sacks of corn, gas, whatever you needed to live on for the week. But we didn’t have any ice, so he had to go into town to ice down whatever fish that he caught. He’d pitchfork them into an ice-downed truck and bring to the market in New Iberia. He did his drinking when he went to town. My mother was very stick. She never allowed alcohol in the house.

[wife] We had radios that operated by battery, and that’s how we communicated with each other in the community.

My daddy built a lot of boats, batto’s, pirogues, houses, and clocks. He had no education, but he had a good head. He didn’t have any power tools. They cut down trees in the basin and bring those into town to be stripped.

You didn’t have to lock up your shed at night. If your neighbor needed your shovel, and you weren’t home, he’d come over and pick up the shovel and do what he had to do. And if you met him at the grocery store he’d say to you, “Hey, I picked up your shovel and I’ll be bringing it back in a day or so.” That’s the way we operated. We didn’t have anything stolen. Every body depended on each other.

I’m part Irish and part Spanish. My grandfather did a lot of timber work. He built the house that I grew up in.

We had newspapers so we knew there was a war going on. The mail carrier would come twice a week and he’d bring newspapers. There was a draft board in St. Martinville and we lived in St. Martinville Parish. They knew where we were. When I turned 18, they drafted me. That was in 1944. I went to New Orleans then I took my basic training at Fort Hood, Texas. I trained for six weeks and then they sent me overseas as a replacement.

I was assigned to the 82nd Airborne in the gliders (glider-born infantry). They tow us up there and then cut us loose and we’d glide into battle. After the war, they had a big ole fella named Johnson who came to our church. He said, “I was a paratrooper and jumped out of airplanes. Lynn Curry was in the gliders…he was a lot crazier that I was.”

It was real dangerous. They had a pilot and a copilot and about maybe 10 of us in there. Once they cut you loose up, there was nothing you could do but just glide on in there.

As soon as we got in France, they put me with gliders. I didn’t object to it because it was a little more pay. That was the first time that I had ever seen a glider. I’ll put it this way, I wasn’t sissy-fied. I felt slightly uneasy about it.

I wasn’t trained in the glider. They had the gliders there waiting and they loaded up about 8 or 10 people in there. We glided into Germany. We landed in the south end of a field where we would be fighting.

General Gavin was with us then. He was some fine man. I was in a foxhole and man it was cold. I was freezing to death. I saw this man coming toward me and I could see that he had an American uniform on. And I didn’t know who he was until he got closer and then I recognized him and I hadn’t saluted him. I just thought it was a regular GI, so I figured, well I’m gonna get reamed out for this. He walked up to me and said, “How you doing son? Are you getting enough to eat?” I said yes. “Well mighty fine, ya’ll doing a good job. Keep it up.”

The Germans were in a house not far from where our holes were dug. This was in Germany. We had a foxhole, this buddy and I. We got up and walked out of it. He was looking for souvenirs. He started back toward the foxhole, and a German sniper shot him in the back. He was bleeding, so I ran to get a medic, who was a couple of hundred feet or so in the back. So they taught us to run zigzag—less chance of getting hit. So I ran zigzag and bullets were hitting all around me, but none of them ever hit me. So I got a medic and we started back over there, but the guy was dead.

On the way back to camp in France, they had a canteen set up where they magazines, radios, and all kinds of eates. When I signed in, I had to write my name and where I was from and all that. There was a guy standing behind he and he said, “I’m in the service with a boy from the same place that you are from.” I said, “That would have to be Ranger Smith.” He said, “Yeah, that’s who it is. If you want to follow me, I’ll show you where he’s at.” So I said, “Okay, let’s go.” Now mind you, I haven’t seen this guy in I don’t know how long. He was laying up in his bunk and I walked in and he said, “Well, well; ole Curry.” That’s the way he said. He got out of his bunk and he said, “I know where Cecil (Verret) is, would you like to go and see him?” I said yeah. So we walked across France, that was a long ways. We found ole Cecil, he was camped out there a good ways. So we talked for awhile out there and I finally caught the bus back to camp. (All three men were neighbors from Bayou Chene) Back home, Cecil lived on side of the bayou and Ranger Smith lived right here, and I lived right here. And we all met up over there. What are the chances? That was one in a million.

I wouldn’t take a million dollars for the experience that I had, but I wouldn’t want to do it again.