Veterans Day

ON THE COVER

Staff photos by Angie Baan

Keeping Memories

Alive

World War II vet shares stories of bravery
and pain with a new generation.

Donald Golde and Gabriella Ring formed a cross-generational bond.

Gabriella Ring
Teen2Teen Staff Writer

W

hen Donald Golde rescued a
fallen soldier from an enemy
minefield in Anzio, Italy, 65
years ago, he never thought about awards
or medals.
"If a man is wounded, or even dead, you
go on and get them:' he said simply.
This was a code of the U.S. Army
Rangers, an elite fighting group Golde
served with during World War II. He made
it out of the minefield that night with the
wounded soldier, but later was injured
himself.
Almost 84, Golde may be a member
of the "greatest generation',' but he's also
part of a fading generation, much like
Holocaust survivors. It's important to get
their stories before they are gone, and to
remember their bravery and patriotism
so their deeds may be passed on to future
generations.
While sitting in his comfortable
kitchen overlooking a golf course in West
Bloomfield, his stories of his life and ser-

vice flowed easily. He seemed happy to be
sharing his memories with a younger gen-
eration and proud to show his war memo-
rabilia housed in a back bedroom.
Born on Christmas Day, 1924, to a
Russian mother and Polish father in
Washington, Mich., he grew up in a rural
Jewish family on an 80-acre farm. His
father bought him his first gun, a .22-cali-
ber rifle, when he was 71/2 years old. At 11,
he upgraded to a 12-gauge double-barrel
shotgun. Golde loved to show his adventur-
ous side; his favorite activities included
hunting, fishing and horseback riding.
At 18, he was drafted into the U.S. Army
at Fort Custer in Augusta, Mich. Four days
later he was shipped to Fort McClellan,
Ala., where a major asked, "What did you
do?"
"I was a dumb farm boy, sir',' he replied.
"There are no dumb farm boys, sergeant,
because I'm a farm boy',' the major told
him.
The major gave him his sergeant's
stripes but, after two months, the fresh
recruit told him, "I'm not staying. I'm going
overseas." He wanted the adventure and

Donald Golde's medals

travel.
"Well," the major said, "you are a dumb
farm boy" He busted him back to private.
He was first sent to fight in North Africa.
Upon arriving, he spotted a sign that read,
"Rangers are tough. Can you handle it?"
"I thought I was (tough);' Golde recalled.
So, while in North Africa, he volunteered
for Darby's Rangers 3rd Battalion, which
consisted of 500 men. Golde explained they
were "the American version of the British
commandos',' trained in night fighting and
stealth operations.
At 19, he went with the Rangers to fight
in Italy, taking part in the famous inva-
sion at the beach near Anzio, then mov-
ing to stage a surprise attack against the
Germans to capture the town of Cisternia.
In the mountains near Venafro, Golde
came down with trench foot (an infec-
tion caused by overexposure to cold and
dampness that results in gangrene on the
bottom of the feet). Then, while helping
medics with a stretcher bearing a wounded
soldier, he held his end high and went first,
jumped backwards off a terrace, knocking
his elbow on a rock, which also hurt his

neck and lower back. Both the elbow and
lower back later needed surgery. The scars
are still visible today.
At Anzio, during a break in the fight-
ing, he was traveling single-file through
a minefield with his sergeant and others.
They painstakingly followed a narrow path
outlined in white, not daring to put even
a toe over the lines for fear of the sensi-
tive explosives the Germans had planted
just under the surface. When they heard a
nearby explosion, the sergeant asked Golde
to see what was going on. A soldier had
been sent flying in the minefield.
Two men carrying a stretcher refused
to go after the wounded man, so Golde
laid down his rifle and cartridge belt and
walked into the minefield to rescue the
fallen soldier. The weight of the man was
too much, so he dragged him to the out-
skirts of the minefield toward the two men.
Together they lifted him onto the stretcher,
and Golde was told they could handle it
from there. The soldier, Jasper Pennington,
lost his left leg in the blast, and had his

Memories on page A16

November 8 • 2007

A15

