After graduating from Castle Heights Military Academy midway through his 17th year, my father was not old enough to become a commissioned officer, but he was old enough to be accepted into an Army infantry training program which he completed within a few months. Shortly thereafter, he was commissioned and admitted into paratrooper training at Ft. Benning, GA. He may well have been the youngest 2nd LT in the US Army. I have Dad’s diary from that phase of his life. There was nothing he wanted more than becoming a paratrooper (other than making Jean Roberts his bride) and yet he was ever pushing the limit carousing at night to the point that he got in trouble several times for oversleeping.
Dad’s primary mode of transportation then was an Indian 74 motorcycle. It was a rather lightweight bike with a 74-horsepower engine strapped on it. One of my uncles told me of a time when he took a spin with Dad on the back of the Indian. It was nighttime and they were on a deserted gravel road. Dad turned and said, “Let’s see what this baby can do.” He cranked it wide open on a straight stretch as my uncle clung on for dear life. The Indian’s speedometer had an indicator for top speed reached. When they returned to base, they learned they had topped out at 110 mph. My father was fearless with himself and those who were dear to him.
Second Lieutenant Treppendahl was assigned to the 17th Airborne Division. It was created in April 1943 from segments of the first two Airborne divisions: the 82nd & the 101st. The commanding general, Major General Bud Miley was a man my father considered to be among the best humans who has ever lived. When he was 19, Dad was selected to become the company commander of a communications company. (I don’t know if this was at a battalion or regimental level – probably battalion.) I am pretty sure that Dad was in the 513th Paratrooper Infantry Regiment.
The 17th Airborne Division was stationed in England in the summer of 1944 to train and prepare for the invasion of Germany in the Spring of 1945. When the Wehrmacht launched what became known as the Battle of the Bulge, the 17th was rushed to front. In mid-December, it was assigned to an area west of Bastogne. Dad told me that on their first day of combat, some forty of his men (one third of his company) were killed or seriously wounded. (Dad had turned 20 the month before.) Even so, they held their position and then advanced.
The weather was nearly as fierce a foe as the German panzers; freezing rain followed by temperatures dropping to zero. The 17th was equipped for a spring offensive – they did not have winter gear. While Dad was not seriously injured by German shellfire, he, along with many of his soldiers suffered severe frostbite. Following the battle, Dad was evaluated by medical personnel who discovered that his feet had turned black from the frostbite. The proposed treatment was amputation – that or suffer the fatal consequences of gangrene. Dad refused to allow his feet to be amputated. He spent about 9 months recuperating at hotel in Colorado that was converted into an army hospital. (In later life, NO ONE could outwalk Marshall Treppendahl.)
Fast forward to a regimental reunion ten years after the war. My mother recounted to us her experience there. Several men who served under Dad during those terrible days came up to them and said they owed their lives to Dad’s leadership. Dad never gave me specifics about what it was that he did. Clearly, though, he was an exceptional leader of men under the most adverse of circumstances.
By the time Dad recovered from his frostbite injury, the War was over. However, his time in the military was not done. He was promoted to Captain and given the assignment of creating and commanding the Honor Guard for the US Army. It was to become a highly skilled precision military drill team. Dad’s most difficult challenge was selecting the best 120 men from the thousands who volunteered for such elite duty. The US Army Honor Guard that Dad created, trained, and commanded performed for dignitaries all over the nation. The photo below left is of Major General Gavin reviewing The Honor Guard. On the right is The Honor Guard performing.
No doubt, Marshall Treppendahl was natural leader of men and had the makings of an exceptional military commander. Be that as it may, Dad elected to resign his commission in 1946 and return home to work for his father in Woodville, MS. Grandpa’s main assignment for him was to become the family’s farm manager – something he knew nothing about.
As for being the commander of men, he had to settle for black farm hands, most who knew more about farming than he did. And later, his four children. We would be his troopers. So what methods would he employ to prepare us for fierce battles we would face in life? My oldest sister, Jamsie, said it was to throw us in deep water and tell us to sink or swim. That method had worked to make Dad the man he was. Time would tell if this approach would work well for us.