Chesapeake City’s over-head bridge in 1948

Pete Swyka tells of an incident while working on Chesapeake City’s over-head bridge in 1948

After I left the ferry I worked on the bridge for a while. It was still under construction and I had the job of tearing the paper off of those piers that hold the bridge up. They used forms when they poured the concrete, and they used paper to keep the cement from sticking to the forms. When they took the forms off the paper had to be scraped off. I worked on the scaffolding that they attached to the bolts all the way at the top. They dropped me down and I’d scrape the paper off the piers. I worked on Pier #1, above the water on the South Side.

Well, I worked with a man who was known to have seizures, and he had one while I was up there working with him. I remember that he could play any musical instrument that you handed him. He could also dive into the water and stay under for a long, long time. Well, one day he had a seizure when we were both on an open scaffold at the top of that bridge. All I could do was hold him down till he came out of it. He was twisting his arms, salivating, and foaming at the mouth. It was frightening because there were no side rails on those things. All you had was a twelve foot bed on the bottom, four sets of poles, and one rail across there with nothing between the top and the bottom.

And he was lying there, flailing around with one leg hanging off, so I pulled the leg up next to the other one and swung him around next to the center pipe and held his hands down as best I could until he came out of it. I didn’t want him to fall off and I didn’t want him to knock me off either. I had to slap him on the cheeks to help him come out of it and get him squared away and make sure that he was all right. When I got down from there . . . that was it. I quit then and there. After I got down from there I didn't want any more of that, so I went to work on a tugboat.

Three Luzetsky Brothers who Served our Country

Three Luzetsky Brothers who Served our Country

Nick (deceased) joined the navy just out of school and had basic training at Bainbridge. He was then sent to Virginia where he was assigned to the signal tower. He explained: “My job was to identify all of the ships sailing through there off the bay on their way to Norfolk, Little Creek, and so on. Using lights with coded signals, we had to document where the vessels came from, where they were going, how long they were going to stay, as well as other information. Not long after that the war was over and I was discharged. I caught the Cape Charles ferry, boarded a train to Wilmington, and thumbed it home. The first car that came by picked me up.”

Brother Bill (81) was sent to Korea from San Francisco after basic army training in Camp Chaffee, Arkansas. “It wasn’t too good in Korea, living in bunkers,” Bill pointed out. “I was in artillery, the 29^th Division, I believe, and operated mostly behind the line. When we first landed we got artillery fire right on us. We were relocated right away but could hear the shells whistling in on us. When the war ended we were shipped home across the Pacific and through the Panama Canal. We disembarked in Baltimore where I hitch-hiked home. Sure, I thought about all of us brothers in the service at once . . . but I didn’t dwell on it; it was just something we had to do.”

Alex (deceased), the youngest of the brothers, served in the army during the Korean War but did not leave the States. After basic training at Camp Atterbury, Indiana, he was sent to Fort Carson, Colorado, where he was assigned to the Heavy Mortar Company of the 155^th Infantry. His wife, Betty, said that the army was ready to ship his company into combat when the Korean War ended.

All of our service men and women—people like the Luzetsky brothers—and our current fighting men and women deserve our heartfelt support. We would not be the free nation we are today without their bravery and devotion.

Luzetsky Brothers, Veterans of WW II

Steve and Pete Luzetsky, Veterans of WW II

  

Steve (90) joined the navy and spent his time on merchant ships that supplied the Allies during World War II. His family members described him as a gentle, quiet, and respectful man. Steve told me about his navy adventures. “I was sent to New York to board my first ship and during my tour of duty I saw a lot the world: Africa, Greece, Italy, the Mediterranean Sea, the pyramids, the Sphinx, the Panama Canal, and the Suez Canal to name just a few.

“While aboard the ships we had to always be concerned about German submarines. I remember when a ship in our convoy was destroyed when it hit a mine. It was off to the side of my ship but none of our ships were allowed to stop to help them; no sir, we kept right on going. Our ships had destroyer escorts with us when I served, but some ships still didn’t make it. At the time, the Germans had submarines everywhere. I know that our mother prayed often for us boys. That meant an awful lot to us; maybe that’s why we all came home with no serious injuries.”

        Brother Pete (deceased) was drafted into the army right out of high school and was stationed in Dakar, Africa, for almost three years. His brother, Nick, remembers: “Capt. Pete was in Africa when all of those tank battles took place with Rommel. Remember? He was also stationed in Italy.” Dorothy, Pete’s widow, pointed out: “My husband was an M.P. in the Army Air Force. When discharged he got a job in dredging and in thirty-eight years worked his way up from deckhand to captain. He was sent all over the world on the dredging boats, even as far away as the African coast.”

Mike and Paul, two of eight Lutzetsky brothers who served our country in war time.

Mike Luzetsky and his wife, Jean, served in World War II, Mike in the army and Jean in the WACS. Brother, Nick, explained that while in the army Mike guarded German prisoners of war who were detained in a stockade in Germany: “Actually, none of us brothers like to talk about the war, but one time, while we were hunting, Mike told me that once, when he looked in at the prisoners, he recognized a guy he had known from Chesapeake City. I guess he had gone A.W.O.L and was thrown into the stockade with the Germans. The guy was from our same small town—amazing!”

Mike’s brother, Paul, joined the navy and did his basic training at Bainbridge before he served in the Pacific on a destroyer escort, the U.S.S. Decker. Brother Nick pointed out: “Paul wrote me letters when I was in the navy and told me: ‘Yeah, as gunners we shot down Japanese airplanes.’ That’s all he ever told me, but, you know, he must have seen plenty of action in the Pacific.”

Nick Swyka Receives Long-Awaited Purple Heart

Nick Swyka accepts his medal.

Nick Swyka Receives Long-Awaited Purple Heart

On July 10^th, 2008, Nickolas Swyka, former Chesapeake City resident, was awarded the Purple Heart for wounds he suffered while serving our country during World War II. Major General Frank Vavala spoke of Nick’s valor before pinning on the medal.

Guy Gravino, a service disabled veteran, explained how Nick was wounded during the Battle of the Bulge: “Fearsome fighting continued until the battle’s end on January 25^th,1945, the time frame when PFC Swyka was wounded. On Christmas Day, 1944, while standing in a chow line with fellow troops waiting for their hot Christmas meal, German artillery opened up, sending their own deadly gifts to the Americans they had tangled with for the last 10 days.

“According to Frank Meyer, a medic for the 1^st Bn, 395^th IR, while in that chow line, PFC Swyka was hit by shrapnel in the arm and back. Meyer bandaged PFC Swyka, stopped the bleeding, and gave him a shot of morphine and sulpha drugs to fight infection. PFC Swyka refused to go to the aid station because the 395^th was short of fighting men. Their unit was surrounded, with fighting on all sides. Doc Meyer further explained that they were cold, hungry and scared, but they were family and wanted to stay together. Although late, we assembled here today to thank Nick for his service & sacrifice.”

During an interview Nick said: “I was the last one in the chow line when the Germans started shelling us. Somehow they had spotted us and I ran for cover but couldn’t escape from that shrapnel. I was hit in the cheek, the wrist, and the back. The medic wanted me to go off to the aid station but I told him ‘No! You take care of me right here.’ I couldn’t leave the outfit because we were short-handed. I wouldn’t leave till we could all go together.”

Thus Nick’s wounds were not reported to the proper authorities at the time, therefore the Purple Heart was not awarded. However, over recent years LTG Steven Blum had been working on Nick’s behalf to have his medal presented, and now, after 64 years, Nick’s courage under fire has been recognized.

The impressive ceremony was held at the Middletown Nelson Armory and was attended by Nick’s wife, Mildred, and many family members and friends. Several high-ranking army officers and enlisted men were present to honor Nick’s bravery. Nick acknowledged his award by talking briefly to the appreciative audience, expressing how honored he was to receive his country’s purple heart.

Nick Swyka fought in the Battle of the Bulge, a major confrontation of the Second World War

Nick Swyka displays his World War II medals: The Combat Infantry Badge, the Bronze Star, the Sharp-Shooter Anti-Tank, and others.

Nick Swyka fought in the Battle of the Bulge

       Nick Swyka fought in the Battle of the Bulge, a major confrontation of the Second World War. Nick tells his story with a tremor in his voice that indicates how lucky he is to be alive to tell it. Yes, luck played a part in his survival, but his intelligence played the leading role. This is his story:

       “We went overseas on a converted ship called the U.S.S. Marine Devil. They made it a troop ship. They converted a gang of them into troop ships, including the Queen Elizabeth and the Queen Mary. We left Boston—‘Watertown’ we called it—on the 29^th of September, 1944, and we arrived in Plymouth, England, on the 9^th of October, 1944. We then traveled by train to a couple of English towns. Then we boarded an LST in the Port of South Hampton and landed in Le Havre, France. Then, by truck convoy we went through France and bivouacked in the woods outside of Aubel, Belgium. I was in the Battle of the Bulge, in Elsenborn, Belgium.

“I remember crossing the Rhine River many times, and I know that my life was up many a time. One time I went in a house there and asked the woman who lived there if there were any German soldiers around. And she said, nein, or no, and then I walked out into the barnyard, and since the house and the barn were joined, they could have plugged me easily; there were twelve of them in there. The Germans knew they were losing the war so they didn't bother. Another time, at the Bulge, our lieutenant said, ‘We have a good view of fire. Maybe I can sleep tonight.’ Well, about that time a railroad shell hit and raised us both off the ground. It was frozen ground, too. If it had been a real shell it would have killed us both. It was a 16-incher and we both wondered if it was timed. But it was a dud. We were hit by a few other duds that night, so we didn't get much sleep.

“Another time, while we were making a run on Cologne at 2 o'clock in the morning, the Germans were hurting us, too. As we advanced on them, a jeep came along the blacktop road and a shell hit right in front of it. The impact of the stones from the road went right through the metal and through the gas tanks, and didn't hit one person. We lucked out again; it was a dud. If we were moved from one area to another they'd haul us in a truck, but a lot of the movement was on foot. I was loaded … I had a rifle, a pistol, grenades, and bullets. At that time we were short of ammo so I had to take it off soldiers who had died. Many of my friends were killed. Eleven of us from Cecil County went in but we were all broken up.

“I didn't get seasick going over on the troop ship, but a lot of guys did. And I would have been sick if I'd have been down below. Let me tell you, most of the guys got sick down there, and much of the time the vomit was on the floor sloshing back and forth. One time I was on night watch, and I was going through the walkway into the kitchen when a great big food mixer upset. I watched a guy with a coal shovel scooping up the eggs and putting them back in the pot. I said, ‘What are you going to do with all of it?’ He said, ‘We can't waste anything; we don't know how long we're going to be out here.’ We were in a bad storm at the time. People don't know what it was like. The next morning I told my friend: ‘You can eat anything but … don’t eat those eggs!’ ”

Chesapeake City veteran, John Luzetsky, remembers his service to our country during World War ll.

John displays his Silver Star for Valor

John Luzetsky: “I was in the D-Day Invasion of Normandy.”

John Luzetsky, a life-long resident of Chesapeake City (deceased at 90), was one of 100,000 troops to land on the beaches of Normandy in 1944. In his quiet, thoughtful way, John told me his story, as if his bravery was the most natural thing in the world. In our talk, John didn’t emphasis the ferocity of that landing, but, reluctantly, he did reveal that several of his buddies were killed as they trudged next to him towards the shore. He said that he never expected to make it back alive. John’s story:

 “I was in the D-Day Invasion of Normandy. I was in the 29^th Division and the guys from Elkton were in it also. They were in the 115^th Infantry and I was in the 175^th from Baltimore, the Fifth Regiment Army. We landed at Omaha Beach. The first wave of troops went ashore at about 6:00 a.m. We went in at about 9:00 a.m. There was great confusion; things didn't work the way they were supposed to. You were just trying to save your life and get to shore. We jumped overboard into waist-high water and tried frantically to get to shore as the navy fired over our heads. So many crafts were there that you couldn’t see the water.

“It was sandy underfoot, and once we got to shore we started firing our weapons. We must have fought for five or six weeks before we hit a pretty good town called Saint Lo. We had to capture Saint Lo, of course, and I got hit by shrapnel in the leg. It wasn't a bad wound; I was lucky.

“I went oversees on the Queen Elizabeth. I remember that she had really thick rugs with lots of space on her, but by the time the carpenters finished building bunks there was just enough room for us to squeeze through in order to get down to the galley for food. There were 3,000 of us on board. It took us six days to reach Scotland. The Queen Mary, also loaded with troops, was ahead of us, and when British cruisers came out to protect her, the Queen Mary hit one of them and cut it in two. The Queen Mary kept right on going because of all the German subs out there. They weren't allowed to stop to pick up survivors because they didn't want to risk the lives of those 3,000 men on board.

“Before I was sent overseas I was a soldier guarding the Chesapeake City Bridge for a while. I trained at Fort Meade and then I guarded a number of bridges in the Baltimore area. We would move from one bridge to another during the early part of the war. When I guarded our lift bridge we bunked in a small brick building located just as you got off the bridge on the North Side. They fixed it up for us. They brought carpenters in to build the bunks. They're similar to the kind that was built on troop ships.

       “We were in England preparing for the Normandy Invasion when our Chesapeake City lift bridge was destroyed. I received a letter from home telling me about it. And I have to laugh when I think about the time I spent guarding it, because as soon as I went oversees it was hit by a ship and destroyed. The company commander at Fort Meade assigned me and five other men to guard the bridge. That happened after the Japanese hit Pearl Harbor. Everybody was scared, just like now after September 11^th. We had to walk back and forth over the bridge with a rifle. We couldn't have stopped a ship from hitting it or anything. We just had to report anything suspicious.”