Clipping of newspaper article titled “The Joe in the Snow,” describing the conditions in Belgium for soldiers during the harsh winter of 1944-1945. Stars and Stripes, Vol. 1, No. 181, n.d.[January 1945]
“This Is about snow. The northern boys remember it well. As kids we loved it. Took out our flexible flyers and went belly-whopping down the hills. Made snow men with it. Packed it into hard, round balls that caught other kids in the head and melted down the backs of their necks. When our hands got red and our feet got cold we’d call it a day. We’d go indoors. To a hot fire and a good scolding for getting our feet wet. We’d put on dry socks and shoes and eat hot chow to take off the chill. When we were kids snow sure was fun.
There’s lots of snow on the Western Front these days. The Ardennes for instance. What’s left of Bastogne is like a Christmas card. The trees are like old queens stooping under the weight of their ermine robes. The wires loop from pole to pole like tinsel on a Christmas tree—except where the weight of ice and snow has pulled them down and the Signal repair men are patching them. Snow lies smooth on the hillsides, with only here and there a lump that, come Spring, will stink to high heaven. It’s beautiful. Boy, it’s beautiful.
But the flexible flyers have turned into tanks. The snow men are Schutzstaffel. The snowballs are grenades. The wet stuff trickling down the back of necks is often blood. And when you’re wet and numb with cold there’s no place to go to. Nothing to look forward to. Nothing but snow. Cold. Wet. Beautiful snow.
NOTE: Shoe packs. Blankets. Woollen socks. Winter combat clothes. Cigarettes. The things that make winter a little warmer and life more livable—belong up there with the Joe in the snow.”