Savino Suniga

Savino Suniga, 83, firmly believes that God protected him through 11 months of brutal combat as his fellow soldiers fell around him. He suffered only a minor shrapnel wound near the end of the war. His small size made him the brunt of jokes — and some speculated it was how he made it through the war almost unscathed. When he returned to Texas he became a barber, married and raised five children. He lives in San Antonio.

I enlisted in the Army on Oct. 11, 1940, long before there was a draft for World War II, at the age of 18, almost 19. I was just 5 feet 4 inches tall and weighed 107 pounds.

When I finished Basic Training, I was assigned to Company G, 23rd Infantry, 2nd Infantry Division at Fort Sam Houston, in which I was to serve all through World War II. I got to Company G on a Saturday, a day when most of the people had gone home for the weekend. I put my stuff away and went to downtown San Antonio in uniform.

A sergeant saw me in town and didn't know I had been assigned to his company. He told his wife: "Look what they are letting in the Army now. That kid is not over 12 years old." He had a big surprise when he saw me Monday morning. Later he would joke about what he had told his wife about me.

For three years I had a lot of training. When my three years that I had signed up for were over, I was on a boat to Northern Ireland to prepare for invasion of France.

Just before the invasion, I went on a pass to Belfast, Northern Ireland, and I got drunk, something I had never done before. Well, I got court-martialed, busted from sergeant to private, $50 fine and 30 days' restriction.

I landed in Normandy on D-plus-one, or June 7th, 1944, at 1 in the morning. Man, dead people all over the place. Dogfights just above us and planes exploding in the air and in the ocean. Don't ever think I wasn't scared.

Sometime around late June, a German artillery shell hit our machine gun dugout and killed or wounded most of my machine gun squad, would you believe, except me.

Don't tell me God wasn't there with me that day. So, there I was, sergeant again.

I lost a lot of friends in Normandy. On Hill 192, we lost the three Martinezes — Vicente from Corpus Christi, A.C. from Colorado, Henry from San Antonio. Also, A.C. Quina, my first sergeant's brother, and many others.

Sometime in late July after crossing the St-Lo Highway, where we had a real bloody battle, David Lawson and I held back a bunch of German soldiers with machine gun fire. Lawson was the gunner and I would help him feed the machine gun. For that action, Lawson was awarded the Silver Star and I the Bronze Star.

David Lawson, a crazy, happy-go-lucky kid — I don't think he was 20 years old — got killed right next to me with a bullet to his chest sometime in late August or early September 1944.

I was on my way to Paris for a little rest. We had gone about 30 miles when we got called back because the Germans had attacked our front lines.

That battle was bad, ugly, cold and miserable. But I lived through it without getting hurt. A lot of guys joked that I didn't get hit because I was so small. But sometime in March 1945, they got me. A little chip of an artillery shell hit me on my nose. Not bad, just enough to earn me a Purple Heart.

That was the only wound I got in 11 months of fighting, where men were wounded and killed all around me, every day and night. But you know what? My mother was doing a lot of praying for me back home. Really, God must have been with me those 11 months.

Besides fighting the Germans, I was bombed by our own planes and shelled by our own artillery by mistake.

May 8, 1945: The day the war was over in the European Theater of Operations. That day I was sent to the hospital with a rash all over my face. When I got back to my unit, all the high-point men had been sent home to be discharged. I had 109 points. I was discharged with rank of staff sergeant on Sept. 29, 1945, at Fort Sam Houston.

( At the end of the war, the Army awarded points for early discharge based on length of service, time served overseas, the number of medals awarded and the number of children under 18.)

Being discharged, I went home to Gonzales, Texas. I spent a month with my parents. In November 1945, I started school to be a barber under the GI Bill. I barbered for 21 years.

I married my first wife in December 1946. Together we raised five children. The oldest three are boys who are Air Force veterans. My first wife passed away in 1989. I remarried in 1992.

By the way, I didn't come back from the war nervous, crazy or shell-shocked. And I never had a nightmare or dream about the war.

Three years ago, I had my left knee replaced. Two years ago I had a tumor taken out of my brain. And I'm still not crazy.

I feel good, healthy, happy. Have all my black hair. Oh, maybe a few gray ones. I play and call bingo every day with senior citizens.

I weigh 129 pounds. Same as I weighed 60 years ago when I left the military.

I have a lot to thank God for. Thank you God