Ex-POW Remembers a Century
Nov 25, 2024 07:26PM ● By Susan Maxwell SkinnerBirthday boy. World War II prison camp survivor Bill Hureaux salutes his century at Northridge Country Club, Fair Oaks. Son-in-law Tony Gouveia (left), daughter Bonnie Gouveia, wife Barbara and son Rick Hureaux flank their patriarch. Photo by Susan Maxwell Skinner
CARMICHAEL, CA (MPG) - Memories accumulate for an old-timer turning 100. Some delightful, some frightful.
Delightful for Carmichael’s Bill Hureaux are recollections of a rural Citrus Heights childhood. Later, the blessings of two happy marriages and five generations of offspring.
Darker insights recall wartime capture and starvation in German prison camps. Then the savage irony of being deafened by an American bomb, days before freedom.
One of few among surviving World War II veterans, Hureaux is profoundly deaf. He understands conversations through cochlear implants, aided by translations from his 93-year-old second bride, Barbara.
“She is my ears,” he said.
In 1943, drafted straight out of Seventh Day Adventist School in Citrus Heights, his expectations were shiny as his U.S. Army tunic buttons.
“After uneventful years at school, it seemed something new was happening for me,” Hureaux recalled. “We trained for a year. We were sent to England and I fought in Patton’s Army, all across France.”
Hauling a machine gun over a French field, the 20-year-old sergeant was catapulted backward by an enemy shell. Eighty years later, he marvels at fortune.
“If I’d been a second earlier, it would have killed me,” he said. “When I stood up, without a scratch, buddies said my guardian angel was on guard duty.”
“On Dec. 12, 1944, we were at the River Blies (on the German border),” Hureaux said. “Our crossing didn’t go well and the U.S. Army retreated. I was in the front with many injured men. We didn’t hear about the retreat. I was watching oncoming German lines. I turned my head and looked up a German rifle barrel. The soldier told me: ‘Comrade, stand.’ If I’d argued, I’d be dead. I raised my hands and did as I was told.”
With scores more prisoners, the sergeant was moved across Germany by road and rail. The Prisoners of Wars (POWs) reached a Limburg prison camp five days after their capture.
“It was after the Battle of the Bulge; there were thousands of captives there,” Hureaux said. “We were all freezing. They fed us a soup, just vegetable water, really. We were hungry and cold all the time. Many of us had diarrhea. There were no facilities and little water. We slept on the floor. I was better off. I had on two shirts and a sweater under my jacket, plus two pairs of socks and two sets of underwear.”
“On Christmas Eve, we were bombed by the British. Windows were breaking and bricks were falling from our walls. Christmas Day came and went. We didn’t sing carols. We thought we were all going to die,” Hureaux added.
Centenarian Bill Hureaux holds World War II decorations. A Bronze Star for Combat Service adorns his American Ex-Prisoners of War vest. Photo by Susan Maxwell Skinner
“The guards were not unkind,” Hureaux said. “They were just old men, following orders. They encouraged me to volunteer for a work camp near Berlin. With fewer prisoners there, I was treated better. They gave us overcoats. The food wasn’t good but it was better. When you’re that hungry, an extra breadcrumb matters. I ran a machine that chopped wood.”
“The guards often fell asleep. We’d sneak out and dig in the dirt for a couple of potatoes. We chewed them, raw,” Hureaux recalled.
Five months into his captivity, Hureaux saw Americans planes bombing the nearby city.
“We prisoners were cheering,” he said. “But the final three B-17s diverted toward our buildings. Some of us ran to a fence for safety but a bomb landed 30 feet from me. The explosion blew my ears out. I couldn’t hear for weeks.”
In the war’s final days, news of Russian Army advances swept camp.
“No one wanted to be around when they got there,” Hureaux said.
Guards marched hundreds of POWs west. They reached a camp near American lines on April 25.
“British, Americans, French, Russians; there were thousands of us there. Our mood was somber. We knew we were diminishing Germany’s resources. There were rumors that Hitler would have us all shot,” Hureaux said.
Instead, the Nazi leader killed himself on April 30. Overnight, camp guards vanished.
“On May 3rd, hundreds of American trucks and ambulances came, draped with white flags of truce,” Hureaux said. “I’ve never heard anything like our cheers, louder than for a home run at Yankee Stadium.”
Across friendly lines, baths and new uniforms awaited.
“First, they fed us,” noted the survivor. “Steak, potatoes, vegetables. My first decent meal in five months.”
That liberation remains one of Hureaux’s best memories. Soon after his return to California, VJ Day marked Japan’s surrender.
“You couldn’t move for people in downtown Sacramento,” Hureaux recalled. “Both wars were over at last. Everybody was so happy.”
Discharged at 21, Hureaux married his 18-year-old sweetheart, Carol. As work opportunities improved, he moved Carol and their three children all over the United States. In 1990, Hureaux retired from managing a warehouse on the Alaskan pipeline project.
Drafted to the U.S. Army in 1943, teenager Bill Hureaux fought in General Patton’s 3rd United States Army. Photo courtesy of the Hureaux family
By then, deafness from that errant 1945 explosion had returned and was deemed incurable. His 67-year partner, Carol, died a few years later.
The guardian angel protecting him in wartime returned in the form of Carmichael’s Barbara Metzinger. The 85-year-old widow found her 91-year-old boyfriend online. Their first date was at Marie Callender's Citrus Heights.
“On Valentine’s Day, he asked me to be his valentine,” Barbara said. “When I said yes, he went on his knees and asked if I’d marry him. Before I agreed, I asked if he could get up from the floor.”
Octogenarian and nonagenarian wed at Fair Oaks Presbyterian Church in 2015. They share seven children, plus mobs of grandchildren, great-grandchildren and great-great grandchildren. Most gathered at Northridge Country Club last weekend for Grandpa Bill’s big day.
“I’d say, I have a happy life,” summarized the survivor. Angel Barbara attributes Bill's longevity and their happy marriage to his “unshakable confidence in a bright future.”
“I guess I’m easy to get along with,” Hureaux said. “Maybe that’s the secret.”