Lost History and a Bizarre Mystery
May, 1944–August, 1946
by
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The history in this book occurred immediately after World War II. It was a time of great turmoil between Russia and the United States, France, and England. After the war, the Allied Forces could not agree on what to do with Berlin. The tension between the US President, Harry Truman, and the Russian leader, Joseph Stalin, was so great that all communications between the two governments were top secret. Consequently, none of these happenings were ever in the news. My hope is that this book will help fill in some of these gaps in history. The mystery will become apparent as the story unfolds. I became aware that I was someone totally out of the ordinary at the time I was drafted into the Army in May 1944. The war was going very badly for the United States and we were losing more men than could be replaced by the draft. All draftees were assigned to the Infantry with no exceptions. Out of the 2,000 men I was drafted with, I was the only one given a different assignment. I was sent to the Signal Corps at Camp Crowder, Missouri, for Basic Training. It was not unnoticed by all the other draftees, for when my assignment was announced, a huge “boo” went up in the crowd and there were shouts of “Congressman’s son.” I wondered why I wasn’t sent to the infantry like everyone else. Immediately I was given Corporal stripes as a non-commissioned officer. All of the other men in Basic Training with me were Buck Privates. Why I was made a Corporal as soon as I arrived at Basic Training was a mystery to me. Upon graduation from Basic Training, all of the privates were assigned to units, but I was assigned to Officer Candidate School (OCS) in Fort Monmouth, New Jersey. At OCS, we were given an orange arm band to put on our left sleeve. This band meant we were all to be called “Mister” and all treated the same. Up to this point I was still within the military system of law, and I did just as I was told. OCS was tough. We would get up at four o’clock in the morning and go for a two hour run. It was winter, so it was cold out at 4 am. Then we would have breakfast, followed by our classes, with a half hour for lunch and a half hour for dinner. We continued classes until 10:30 pm. Lights were out at 12:00 pm. So, we were getting about four hours of sleep each night. Our training went on for three months. At OCS, if you received ten demerits, you were kicked out of the school. Many of my bunkmates got ten demerits. The next day they rolled up their blankets and were out of there. I got my 10th demerit, but no orders to leave. I got my 11th, 12th, 13th, but still no orders to go. Why was I treated differently? Keeping up with this schedule at OCS was tough, so tough that I wanted out. I did not like getting up at four in the morning, going for a run, and then spending the rest of the day in classes learning about all these topics that you needed to know to be an officer. I decided that since I had already gotten too many demerits, would likely not graduate, why should I continue to work so hard? So I reported to the Major’s office, saluted him, pointed my finger at his nose, and said, “Sir, I want out of this chicken shit outfit.” I figured that should get me out. He pointed his finger at me and said loudly and with a stern tone, “You do not tell the Army what you want to do! The Army tells you what you are going to do. And the Army is telling you! You are going back there, and you are going to work harder than ever. That’s an order!” As he spoke, he jerked his finger sharply back and forth, pointing it at me with each word. I saluted him and said, “Yes, Sir.” That was the last order I ever received from any Army officer, even up to a General. When I graduated as a Second Lieutenant in February 1945, I had received 19 demerits. I wondered why I was allowed to continue in OCS with more than 10 demerits, when everyone else was kicked out. At graduation, each officer was given his assignment. They went to a Division, a Battalion, a Company, or a smaller group. But there was no assignment for me. And so I was sent to a radio school at Fort Monmouth. I had graduated from Washington State University with a degree in Electrical Engineering and was a licensed Professional Electrical Engineer. Radio school seemed like a logical place for me to be sent, although I already knew what I was being taught. Upon graduating the radio school, everyone was given his assignment. But there was still no assignment for me. So I attended another radio school. This was repeated three or four times. Finally I had exhausted all the radio schools, but I still had no assignment. Why was that? … The General at Fort Monmouth then said, “We do not know what to do with you. We have no place to assign you.” This is a statement that I heard many times before the end of my military service. How could the army with its vast array of activities not have a single place that they could assign me?
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About the Book
Author George Frese was captivated as a young child by the new technology of his day—radio. When he was sixteen, he and a friend developed a crude form of radar that could detect airplanes. In fact, he got in trouble with the United States government when he tried to send his discovery to the British to protect them from being bombed by the Germans early in World War II. He thinks that that exchange was not forgotten by the government and provides some insight into a strange situation that he encountered while serving in the army.
When George Frese joined the US Army following his graduation from college at the height of World War II, he kept encountering anomalies in the way he was treated. Once he finished advanced training, he was never assigned to any unit, and he never received any orders. He was always “unattached and unassigned.” Commanding officers consistently told him, “Here is a job if you’d like to volunteer for it, but I can’t order you to do it.”
Finally, he was sent to Europe, eventually making his way to Berlin after the war was over in Europe; there, he ran the long lines of communications that connected all of the allies across Europe. This marked the beginning of his adventures in post-war Germany.
Providing a description of many intriguing events—described here for the first time—Lost History and a Bizarre Mystery shares one man’s memorable army experiences.
About the Author
George Melvin Frese is a retired professional consulting engineer for broadcast radio and television from Wenatchee, Washington. After graduating from Washington State University with a BS in electrical engineering, he served in the United States Army during World War II. Upon being discharged from his military service, he began his career in broadcast engineering.