Robert D, Brock 1921-1997
		This was my dad. Taken in Italy sometime between the Force's breaking of the German "Winter Line" and their time at the Anzio Beachhead where, with a brigade strength force, they held a length of line normally held by a division. For ninety-nine days. Anzio was where the FSSF gained the nickname "Black Devils" from their relentless and ruthless nighttime patrolling. As a kid I never knew about any of this and he never told any war stories. Everyone at school but me had tales to tell of their dads in "WW2, The Big One" The father on "Dobie Gillis" used to say that. Anyway, one probable reason he never told me stories is that I never asked. It seemed like the wrong thing to do. I do know he always hated fireworks and was the easiest person in the world to wake up. But in his later years he wrote some things down so here is one that I guess would qualify: "One night while in German territory, we set up an outpost near a large chicken coop. Having a natural-born chicken thief on our patrol, a good patrol into enemy territory often needed training other than what Army brass thought necessary. We learned a chicken would climb onto your hand when touched under the breast. Said chicken was then lowered, where the head was tucked under a wing. After the chicken was rocked to sleep the legs were tied together and hung up. When our leader decided enough time had been spent in a hostile area we started for a safe place. There were four chickens hung along the barrel of my machine gun. Others also had chickens. We were traveling in a three foot ditch when our host discovered us. Not wanting to lose our chickens, we were there to look - not conquer, and believing in the theory a fast moving target was harder to hit, we took off. The lieutenant was not too angry, after all his chicken was saved."
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