Husband Cecil Nathaniel PATTERSON
Born: May 25, 1925 - Iva, SC
Baptized:
Died:
Buried:
Father: Daniel Nathaniel "Dan" PATTERSON (1880-1954)
Mother: Annie Belle SUTHERLAND (1889-1963)
Marriage: Mar 26, 1948
Noted events in his life:
• Reunion, Jul 2000 - Calhoun Falls, SC
Cecil helped to keep the family coming to reunions and spent many hours contacting members of the family each year. He and his son Ricky helped Barbara Patterson, sister, (until she died and they continued) to fill in the Genealogy Book of Patterson, Hamilton Osteen, and Picklesimer. Also Sutherland Genealogy Book. Take it from me - its' loads of fun, but lots and lots of hard hours also. (Furman Patterson, Sr, another (Dan Patterson's son)
Cecil was born in Iva, SC (only city known where the police went fishing on Friday and stayed until Monday -- every week). Dan Patterson, highly respected, lived down the street from the church, where he took his family each Sunday. Only problem, the city was between home and church. That didn't stop
Dan, he took his family around the 'mill' and through the pasture, to avoid the city.
Then they built the church on the other side of town.
Cecil was born, without incident, on May 25, 1925, across the pasture, where we had moved a couple years earlier. Dan took me and a couple more to aunt
Carrie & George Gibson's home for the event. He rode me home on his back.
Cecil's g-mother, Jane Patterson Sutherland, died the year he was born, and his g-dad Robert Sutherland was living with the family until 1930. Cecil and others
of us were too young to appreciate knowing him. After he died, 1930, the family
moved to Poe Mill Village, Greenville, SC The family lived there 5 years and when
Dan was 'Retired' he bought a home on Judson Rd. (area called as 'Gobler's Knob') where Cecil lived until he entered 'Service' World War II. Gobler's Knob got it's name from a man who walked up and down the street 'gobbling like a turkey'
Everyone was eager to kill Germans and Japs, Cecil no exception. He wanted to join so mama would have 6 stars in the window. When he went into service, he didn't 'drink, smoke, gamble, nor date women, and didn't know how to drive a car Might as well go get shot, so they could bury him. .
He must have impressed some people during his tour of duty. Barbara, sister, and myself accompained him to Dallas, Texas. We found one of his buddies ok, but had problems with finding his Sgt. He was staying with his sister and she
wasn't wanting a lot of people coming to say good-bye, as he was dying. He didn't recognize anyone and about given up hope.
We findly convinced her to let Cecil and his buddy in to see him while the two
car loads of people waited. Needing to use bathroom, which was across from his room, i heard him say, "Hello, Pat, where the h--- did you come from".
He hadn't seen Pat in 50 years, and invited everyone into the room to visit. Then started making plans for another visit next year. So, i like to think that Pat gave him a few more months or years to live.
• Military Service:, 1943 - Italy
Completed Army Training at Fort Meade, Maryland, April 1, 1943 and sent to Camp Patrick Henry in Virginia for overseas assignment. With other soldiers, was placed on the James W. Fanning, equipped with 4 guns, and put in a convoy of one hundred and twelve ships. It took twenty-eight days to cross this vast span of water in our pursuit of "Freedom". I had six meals a day (three down and three up).
We reached Naples, Italy on May 27, 1943 and they assigned me to:
US Army 88th Division 'Service Company' 349th Infantry - "Blue Devils".
The patch a shape of "Four Leaf Clover".
On June 4, 1944, we secured Rome, Italy. People celebrating their 'freedom'.
Many soldiers getting drunk. On June 6, we invaded France and my infantry was
sent back to the front lines to hold the Germans. The fighting continued another
year as we made our way to 'Po Valley' in June 1945. Dead Germans & horses were lying head to toe along the road. All the gasoline was gone and the United
States Air Force had gained control.
Had began having regular headaches and after numerous trips to sick-bay, told them just to give me a bottle of aspirin and i'd stop bothering them.
The war ended and I was sent to a palace in Caserta, Italy, where I worked with
two other men and twenty-seven WACS and ATS Girls (English WACS) until
transportation home was found. It took nine days to get home on the Aircraft Carrier 'Monterey'. Five miles from home was the scent from the fertilizer plant,
and for once it was a nice smell.
My medals included "Sharp Shooter", "Good Conduct", "Rifleman's Badge", an
Italian Medal.
• Military, As a Goodwill Ambasador
Wife Rose Marie GORMAN
Born: Mar 12, 1932 - Greenville, South Carolina
Baptized:
Died:
Buried:
Children
1 M Richard Joe "Ricky" PATTERSON
Born: Mar 3, 1952 - Greenville, South Carolina
Baptized:
Died:
Buried:
Spouse: Kristy SMITH (1952- )
Marr: May 19, 1972
2 F Jannette Rose PATTERSON
Born: Mar 9, 1956
Baptized:
Died:
Buried:
Spouse: Ricky James ELLIOTT (1954- )
Marr: Jun 11, 1978
3 F Nannette Marie PATTERSON
Born: Mar 9, 1956 - Greenville, South Carolina
Baptized:
Died:
Buried:
Spouse: Mark HARVELL (1955- )
General Notes (Husband)
My Service Record of World War II
Cecil N. Patterson 34779362
Service Company, 349th infantry, 88th division
I was born on May 25,1925 in Iva, Anderson Co, S.C. and moved to Poe Mill, Greenville, SC, at age 5. At age 10, dad retired and bought a home in Gobler's Knob, where I entered service World War II. Gobbler's Knob, (a smal community) name came from a man who would walk up and down the street gobbling like a turkey. Only one family had a phone and a car in my neighborhood and life was simple. When Pearl Harbor was bombed on December 7, 1941 I could not drive a car and had never dated a girl. Everyone was eager to enlist and go to war to fight Japan. I was too young and my mother would not sign my papers.
In the early spring of 1943 I turned 18 and was drafted into the United States Army. I was ready to join my four brothers and two sisters who were serving or in training. For the swearing in ceremony I was sent to Camp Croft, South Carolina. Before the ceremony I was assigned with other new recruits to clean up cigarette butts off the ground. I was very upset about this task asked of me and smoked a cigarette the entire time I cleaned the grounds. I had always hoped I would not take up this habit and said many times if I decided to smoke that it would make me ill. At the ceremony I became very ill as I raised my hand promising to serve my country in our battle for freedom. With other new recruits we were sent home for ten days to take care of unfinished business and say good-bye. At home I was still sick and hospitalized. Was it from the cigarettes nobody knew the answer. My hair fell out and the skin on my feet peeled off. I was still in the hospital when I was scheduled to be at Camp Wheeler, Georgia for training camp and marked AWOL until I reported.
Two weeks into training camp we were sent out on a twenty- mile walk fully geared. After a break at the fifteen- mile mark I broke my big toe when I stood up to put on my pack. I continued on the march in terrible pain because if I failed to complete the trek I would be required to start basic training over. After completing this grueling chore I was sent to the hospital to recover from my broken toe. After week I was sent home on sick leave until I could continue my training. I arrived back to training camp too early and spent another two weeks in the hospital at Fort Meade, Maryland. After recovering and completing my training I wanted to celebrate with my new friends before being shipped out. We agreed to meet at a place called the Cicero Club. When I caught a cab with a couple of my friends, two girls were already in the cab. They wanted us to go with them to another club called The Trocodero Club but we told them we were joining others. At the club eight of us sat at the same table and ordered some beers. The waiter said I us too young and couldn't serve me. A big Sergeant stood up and said, “He's old enough to fight the war. If he don't drink, we don't drink.” There must have been at least 60 soldiers in the club and they all stood up and agreed. I had never drank before and when the evening was over and I got up to leave I passed out. There were about twelve cabs outside and a group of us shared one. We went to the Hotel Baltimore where we met up with some of my other buddies, York and Loveday sitting on the top step. I had never consumed alcohol before and I passed out again. The next day I woke up with about eight more of my other friends.
After finally completing my training in April I was sent to Camp Patrick Henry in Virginia for my overseas assignment. Along with other soldiers I was placed on the James W. Fanning in a convoy of one hundred and twelve ships. As we set out across the Atlantic Ocean only the commodore knew our destination. It took us twenty- eight days to cross this vast span in our pursuit of freedom. I had six meals a day, three down and three up. As we neared the Rock of Gibraltar we had an air raid. I was on guard duty for Opie Mcnutt because he was ill. I was locked on deck and forced to kneel behind a small plate around the ship. A smoke screen was put up to help shield us from our enemy. The commodore fell back between the convoy for more protection. The James W. Fanning was equipped with four guns. The front guns name was Blackie and as planes emerged through the smoke screen I saw it take down the first two. The next morning we left the convoy and were docked off shore of Oran, Africa. Little did I know but during the raid a twenty-six foot twenty-three hundred pound torpedo had been caught in the torpedo net directly under were I watched Blackie defend us. The torpedo was cut away and detonated out in the ocean.
After returning to the convoy we landed in Naples, Italy on May 27, 1943 and received our orders. I was put in Service Company 349th infantry 88th division. Added to the shoulder of my uniform was a patch in the shape of a four- leaf clover. I became friends with many including Calvin Bingham, Chuck Connors, James Carter, William West and Marcus West.
On the way to our first task we passed a mountain we were in the process of over taking. Two train tracks traveled the side of the mountain carrying soldiers up to reinforce the front line and bringing down the wounded and dead. Many Cathedrals were on the mountain and efforts were being made not to use bombs. My infantry was sent up to help fight the battle. A woman German radio announcer called us the boy scouts of the 88th division. The casualties had been horrendous and as we neared the top the front line broke as the decision was made for bomb reinforcement. After we took the mountain the radio announcer called us the Blue Devils of the 88th, a name that stayed with us throughout the war. Chuck Connor, Calvin Bingham and I were ordered to run telephone lines to the front. James Carter, William West, Marcus West and Clarence “Pops” Redicker were assigned to the cook's kitchen tent. We would work for eight hours each on the switchboard and then the other sixteen hours we were put on odd jobs. One of these jobs was finding dead bodies and marking the spot by sticking their rifles in the ground beside them and hanging their helmet on the butt of the rifle. On one of these details I found seventy-five gallons of wine in a cave. After I marked all the bodies I could find I went back to the cave and carried back a fifteen gallon jug of wine to base camp. The wine was shared as some found this a way to ease some of the pain of the day. The battle had been more than some could manage. I remember on Italian solider reaching his breaking point. He was taken away and sent home for hospitalization. All had seen many friends die in this battle. One of my worst memories was seeing a truck return to camp stacked with the young soldiers who had lost their life that day. Among the mangled bodies I saw the huge feet of my friend, Marshall Hyde. So many times we had commented on his enormous feet and now he was dead.
Many times memories from home comforted me. My sister, Ellen wrote me and asked what was happening. She is a big Christian and the Lord told her to get on her knees and pray that I was in trouble. I told her I was but wasn't allowed to talk about in my letters to home. On one day I was helping out in the kitchen serving the front line. I had just finished and was taking a break by reading my mail from home when a soldier came through and saw the South Carolina postmark. He ask me who I knew in South Carolina and I told him I was from Greenville and lived in a small community called Gobblers Knob on Judson road. He said, “Hell, I lived on the street behind there, Jamison Street”. Another time one of my friends “Pop” Redicker was sent home to the hospital. During his stay in the hospital my sister, Magdalene, who was his nurse saw his four-leaf clover patch from the 88th infantry and asked if he knew Cecil Patterson. Pops only knew me as Pat Patterson and said no. The next morning my sister brought a picture to show him and he said, “Hell, that's Pat”. Any news from home or about home helped us remember why we were here. One of my buddies Bill West could not read or write and I read his mail to him and wrote messages for him to send home.
One day a fascist (German civilian soldier) was brought into camp. They wanted to know what to do with him. They were ordered to take him a mile down the road to a cemetery and shot him. We took his belongings a bicycle he was riding, a tool kit and a fascist pin. I gave the bicycle to a little boy and the pin to our Red Cross girl. The pin had an emblem on it almost like the back of our dimes.
On June 4th 1944 we went into Rome, Italy. The people there were celebrating their freedom and offered food and drink. Everyone was elated and many of the soldiers got drunk. On June 6th 1944 we invaded France and my infantry was sent back to the front lines to hold the Germans. The fighting continued for another year as we made our way to Po Valley in June of 1945. Dead German soldiers and horses were laying head to toe along the road. All of their gasoline was gone and the United States Air Force had gained control.
Po Valley was beautiful. The clouds above the Apennines Mountain looked as if I could jump down and bounce on them like I did as a child on my bed. I started getting regular headaches and would go on sick call. The only medication I was given was an aspirin. After many trips to sick call I finally told them just to give me a bottle of aspirins and I would quit bothering them. The war ended and I was sent to a palace in Caserta, Italy where I worked the switchboard with two other men and twenty-seven WACS and ATS Girls (English WACS) until transportation home was found for me.
I went sailing in the Isle of Capri and spent many enjoyable days in Naples. I was still having bad headaches so in December 1945 I was discharged and sent back to Camp Patrick Henry. It took nine days to get back home on the Monterey aircraft carrier. Five miles from home I could smell the fertilizer plant. The odor was awful but I was glad to be home.
For time in service I received a sharp shooter metal, good conduct metal, rifleman's badge and Italian medal. The most important thing I gained from this experience was serving my country with so many brave and courageous men. Seeing the Rock of Gibraltar, Naples, The Isle of Capri and Rome. The architecture of the buildings and the magnificent statues will always be remembered, especially the Leaning Tower of Pisa.
After 292,000 Americans killed, 1.7 million wounded not counting the English, French and other allies my best reward was being only five miles away from where the Italians hung Mussolini and left him for others to take witness his demise. The Italians were allowed to stab him, shot him, kick him and spit in his face.
Mussolini was one son of a witch.