Preservation of American Hellenic History
Major Clainos was elevated to lieutenant colonel. He met with our group a couple of days before we left Area "F", and announced that he was being replaced and reassigned to the regular army because his rank of colonel was too high for a group of 160 or more. He told us how disappointed he was that he was not able to go overseas and lead us into combat. The enlisted men were devastated to lose our outstanding leader. That was one of the darkest days of my army career. His brother, Lieutenant Nick Clainos, who was in our unit, was also transferred and reassigned to the 10th Mountain division (he was killed in action in Italy). There have been many questions and no answers as to why Colonel Clainos was relieved of duty.
When Mary and I videotaped him at his home in San Francisco in 1990, the retired Colonel Clainos, a loyal West Pointer and army officer, repeatedly told us (as often as we asked) that he had been relieved of duty because of his new rank. Our men at area "F" accepted his explanation. Later new officers were assigned to our group, including Major Lovell (eventually elevated to Lieutenant Colonel), and another major and a captain whose names escape me. Major Lovell and the captain were executives (possibly owners) of the Cannon Towel Company. They had limited military training and were assigned to command our elite group. In a later chapter, I will relate an incident at the battle of Miljet when I was a runner for Major Lovell.
Why was another major assigned as commanding officer of the Greek and Yugoslavian groups in Yugoslavia and why did the newly promoted Clainos reassign? This question has haunted both me and our unit and has never been answered.
Colonel Clainos bid us farewell at Area "F". He was assigned to the 81st division as a regimental commander in the Pacific. He was one of the heroes of the battle of Pelilui Island and received the Distinguished Service Cross. He was also a regimental commander in the Korean War and was wounded numerous times in both wars. Colonel Clainos has been acknowledged for his heroism and leadership in a book about the Korean War, The Forgotten War.
He was a respected and much admired leader of our group, and to a man we gave him credit for our excellent combat record in Yugoslavia and Greece. During the taping in San Francisco I reminded him that though the Greek/USOG expected a high casualty rate, our causalities were light. He told me he wasn't surprised and said again the Greek OGs were his most outstanding unit.
As our major, Clainos was a tough disciplinarian, demanded loyalty, and expected his troops to follow orders. In turn, he abided by the edict that he had been given by his superiors. Although he was disappointed to lose command of his beloved Greek/USOG, he never complained; he gave us a tearful sendoff, and wished us success in battle. I personally believe his transfer was a political move.
In 1991, Colonel Clainos was unable to attend the first reunion of the Greek/USOG at Denver, Colorado, because of his failing health in his old age.
A videotape of Colonel Clainos was shown specially during the reunion banquet.
He was obviously emotional during his presentation as he told his men one of the saddest days of his life was when he was transferred from his beloved unit.
He concluded his address by saying, with forefinger forcefully gesturing, I'm extremely proud of you, and I know you're extremely proud of yourselves.
If my Battalion, the 122nd Infantry Separate, was a crack outfit, then you people were the greatest!
When the video ended, there wasn't a dry eye in the room.
We completed our training at area "F" the latter part of October 1943 and we heard rumors (always rumors) we would be transferred to another area that was called Area "H", near Hagerstown, Maryland, a CCC camp during the great depression.
Two days after Colonel Clainos bid us goodbye, we were bussed to Area "H". We were still reeling with the shock of losing our commanding officer. This was not unlike losing a respected parent. We could not look back; we were a finely tuned fighting machine; and we had good officers and non commission officers, especially the aforementioned First Sergeant Theophanes Strimenos, who became the catalyst of our unit. At our reunions both officers and enlisted men unanimously agreed that without our imposing first sergeant, the transition, after losing Colonel Clainos, would not have been as successful. This is not being critical of Lieutenant Houlihan, who succeeded a legend. When describing the passing of the baton in our group, the analogy would be the same as replacing Babe Ruth. Captain Houlihan replaced a Greek-American West Pointer with a dynamic personality. Captain Houlihan, a quiet leader, and non-Greek, was assigned to lead our group which was almost 100% Greek and Greek Americans. He proved to be an excellent soldier and commanding officer.
Area "H" was in a beautiful part of Maryland, densely wooded and a great place to simulate missions and raids. The camp is in close proximity to where Camp David is now located. Camp David was originally called Shangrila
by President Franklin D. Roosevelt.
We were taught to fire every small weapon in the army's arsenal from the .45 pistol to the 50-caliber machine gun, including the light mortar and bazooka. We were given a sound course in the use of explosives, demolitions, and defusing mines.
We had to be proficient with these weapons for our survival. I am certain it would have been paradise for members of the NRA who would have orgasms firing all of those weapons.
During simulated raids we would be dropped off in an unknown area and ordered to reach the target with a compass. We would usually have two to four different compass readings and hopefully we would find the target. During these maneuvers we normally operated with a five- man squad. On one occasion we discovered another part of America that we thought only existed in the Li'l Abner comic strips. In the middle of a very wooded area, we were surprised to find a log cabin, and standing in front of the cabin was a gray-haired old white woman (she was probably in her forties) and a teen or sub teen girl wearing a flour or potato sack. I noticed they were frightened and the lady kept a firm hold on the little girl. We told them not to be afraid, that we are on army maneuvers and would leave the area shortly. I asked the lady if she would allow us to look in the cabin and she reluctantly said Okay. We took a quick peek and were shocked to see how those people lived. The tent had a wood stove, a few pots, utensils, and a couple of cots. We thanked them and left. Unfortunately we did not have the wherewithal to leave a little cash. What a contrast from the Chevy Chase homes that skirted Area "F". It was hard to believe that people lived in these deplorable conditions just a short distance from the nation's capital.
In addition to the weapons that we fired, we also spent many hours learning hand-to-hand combat and how to use a garrote, and the Frenchman spent hours teaching us the correct way to handle a stiletto. The stiletto was a slick thin knife about 6 inches long, very easy to handle and very devastating. When we arrived overseas the stiletto was replaced by a 6-inch hunting knife. We were told the stiletto was not acceptable under the Geneva Convention and prisoners would be executed if a stiletto was found on a soldier's person. Later we found out that it did not matter with the Operational Groups because of Hitler's devastating edict.
Our Greek-American and Greek-national cooks were terrific. Our food in the States and overseas was excellent. Of course in Yugoslavia and Greece it was a different story. The head chef was Angelo, a Greek American from New York. He was an arrogant little bastard, probably in his middle 30s, a short fat man who appeared to have a lot of mileage.
He catered to the older guys and initially intimidated us younger men, but we got even with him in Italy. The "jitterbugs" called him Mr. Five by Five
from a popular contemporary song. Later we realized his bark was much worse than his bite.
In Italy the "jitterbugs" taught him and his kitchen crew a lesson they would never forgot.
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