Richard O. Bertz

WWII vet clearly remembers his treacherous time served.

By R. Kurt Osenlund, BucksLocalNews.com


World War II veteran Richard Bertz just celebrated his 88th birthday, and his memory is as sharp as that of a 22-year-old. Easy to talk to, the Trevose resident remembers growing up in Spring City, Pa. along the Schuylkill River. He remembers his Eagle Scout training and details of his time at Royersford High School. He remembers desperately wanting to fly.

At 19, he went to Philadelphia to try out for the Air Force, only to receive a crushing blow.

“I passed everything, all the tests,” Bertz says, “until they put that [vision test] book in front of me and told me I was colorblind. I pleaded with them, but it was no use.”

With what little money he earned working at a glass factory near the home he shared with parents Otto and Ida and siblings Kenneth and Alicia, Bertz hopped a bus to California. Alone, he found a place in Ocean Park where he received free room and board and free meals for serving as the driver for a group of Army soldiers.

All the while, he was taking aeronautical drafting courses at a nearby military airport.

Returning to the Philadelphia area in 1942, Bertz got a job working on airplane prototypes and small drafting assignments.

“I just loved airplanes,” he says. “I wanted to be close to them.”

From there, Bertz was drafted into the Infantry, and sent to join the 94th Infantry Division at Camp Phillips in Kansas. Arriving on Christmas Eve, Bertz spent five months at the camp before undertaking 14 months of maneuvers across the United States. He was an Armor officer, responsible for weapons and ammunition.

In August of 1944, he and his company left the U.S. on the Queen Elizabeth II. They landed in Scotland, passed through England, then wound up in Lorient, France, a submarine base on the Normandy peninsula. There, he and his fellow soldiers were responsible for containing 25,000 Germans, before moving into Germany in the midst of the Battle of the Bulge.

Soon Bertz reached Orsholz, a village located near Germany’s Sarr Valley. Instructed to join troops who were set to invade the village, Bertz donned bedsheets so as to blend in with the snow; however, it wasn’t enough to hide from the minefield that lay before the group, or the sea of bullets the enemy would disperse from across the valley.

“I got about halfway down and all hell broke loose,” Bertz says. “Our lieutenant colonel was killed, many others were killed.”

As instructed, Bertz withdrew into the woods, but without any companions. The snow was over a foot deep and the temperature was well below zero.

Noticing an Army tank nearby, Bertz approached the hatch and asked the occupants if he could come inside, but to no avail. He was freezing and subjected to the elements.

Bertz soon noticed a superior curled up against a tree. Scouting taught Bertz never to fall asleep in freezing weather. He stayed awake; the other man didn’t. He survived; the other man didn’t.
“That was my worst night,” Bertz says.

Bertz’s division eventually took Orsholz, and from there, under the command of Gen. Patton, moved on to Trier and all the way up to the Rhine River.

In Czechoslovakia, Bertz encountered cold weather again, which left him with throat problems and frostbite. (To this day, he wears socks to bed and struggles with a lack of feeling in his feet.)
After suffering through a train disaster while en route to the French port city of Le Havre (a car derailed and was dragged for miles, dumping equipment along the way), Bertz boarded the SS George Washington, a WWI ship that would cart him back home across the Atlantic. Caught in a violent storm, the ship lost a rudder, nearly capsized, and six men were lost.

The boat finally arrived in New York Harbor, and Bertz was home by Christmas Eve – the same day he arrived at Camp Phillips in 1942. He was discharged as a Staff Sergeant. He met his wife, Helen, in 1945 at a dance hall near Pottstown. The couple had two daughters, Renae and Lynn Anne.

In 1949, Bertz graduated from Millersville University, where he studied industrial arts. He went on to become an industrial arts teacher at William Tenant High School, where he taught for 35 years and founded an adult education program.

In 2005, Bertz lost Helen to cardiac problems. He now lives alone in a home filled with his handmade furniture and woodworking creations. In two weeks, he’ll be heading to Charleston, S.C. for the reunion of the 94th Infantry Division. He’s active with the VFW, and says he wants to be buried in the new Washington Crossing Cemetery, where other soldiers like him have been laid to rest.

“I don’t think people appreciate what service men do,” Bertz says. “I got an awful lot of experience, and I wouldn’t want to go through it again, but I wouldn’t want to give it back, either. I wish people would look back and appreciate what the WWII soldiers did. People need to remember.”

Just ask Bertz. He remembers.