Leonard L. Pilus Class of 1941

Leonard L. Pilus - Class of 1941

Submitted by Pauline Rute Hall 1952 <Grammypgh@aol.com> on 29/Mar/2017
96.248.52.220

Leonard Louis Pilus, 95, passed away on Saturday March 25, 2017 at Starr Farm Nursing Home in Burlington. He was born on March 14, 1922 in New Windsor, New York, son of the late Joseph and Mary (Gilnick) Pilus. Leonard graduated from Newburgh Free Academy in 1941, see carnera shy, He proudly served his country for three years in the US Army during WWII. He was a decorated Technical Sergeant, serving in the 294th ASLT signal company, one of the first units to land on Omaha Beach on D-Day June 6, 1944. Then he was transferred to the Pacific where they were training to land in Japan serving in the Japan Assault Signal Company (JASCO), a special unit. Len was recognized for his service by France, receiving the French Legion of Honor medal in Montpelier in November 2014, presented by the Hon. Fabien Fieschi, the Consul General of France. He was also the Grand Marshal of the Essex Memorial Day Parade in 2012 representing World War II. He married the former Marie Ferrara on March 22, 1945 in Newburgh, New York. He was a member of the fraternity Sigma Lambda Epsilon of Newburgh, New York. He had been employed with E. I. DuPont De Nemours for 26 years in Newburgh before going to work with IBM in Essex Junction, Vermont where he spent the next 20 years. Len enjoyed fishing and often spoke of the day he met Ted Williams while fishing in New Brunswick, Canada. Len had been a member of St. Lawrence Parish for 50 years. He is survived by his loving wife Marie (Ferrara) Pilus of Essex Junction, three daughters Maryann Liebel and husband James of Springfield, MA; Lori Pilus and husband Charles Farmer of Francestown, NH and their children Christopher and Shelby; Lenelle Torrey and family; several nieces and nephews.
He was also predeceased by his daughters, Mary, Christine and an infant daughter, his five brothers and one sister. Per Leonard's wishes there will be no visiting hours held. A Mass of Christian Burial will be celebrated on Saturday April 1, 2017 at 1:00 p.m. at St. Lawrence Church with Reverend Charles Ranges S.S.E. officiating. Burial will be in Spring in New Windsor, New York at the convenience of the family. The family would like to thank everyone at UVM Medical Center and especially everyone at Starr Farm for all the care, love and support that they gave during his stay with them. Memorial contributions in Leonard's memory may be made to the VNA of Chittenden and Grand Isle Counties, 1110 Prim Road, Colchester, VT 05446 or Veterans of Foreign Wars, Post 6689, 73 Pearl Street, Essex Junction, Vt. 05452. The family also invites you to share your memories and condolences by visiting www.awrfh.com - See more at: http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/burlingtonfreepress/obituary.aspx?n=Leonard-L-Pilus&pid=184750999#sthash.eoyWDC2Z.dpuf

The first time Len Pilus saw combat was when he landed on Omaha Beach during the invasion of France, among the first waves of soldiers hitting the shores at Normandy. Omaha was known among the troops as "Red Easy Beach," Pilus said, because it was the reddest with blood of any of the beaches. The Germans had a Panzer group focused on Omaha, he said, and the tanks took their toll. "I told somebody I didn't mind going, but I'd hate to have to do it again," Pilus said in the living room of his modest ranch home. "Once we got on the beach and saw all those dead and wounded, body parts and so forth. Reality came to us, you know what I mean?" Pilus is one of 3,049 World War II veterans living in Vermont, according to the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs. The Vermont VA doesn't break that number down by vets who landed on the beaches of Normandy, but with the 70th anniversary of the greatest naval invasion in history on June 6, 1944, coming this year, Pilus is a member of an increasingly exclusive club. At 92, Pilus is tall and lanky, and he wears a freshly pressed, royal blue shirt and dark brown slacks. He sits easily in his chair with his legs crossed. His skin is translucent and dotted with age spots. He remembers the events of 70 years earlier with remarkable clarity and no hint of the trauma he must have experienced. When Pilus stands to retrieve a book about D-Day from a nearby coffee table, he stoops dramatically and moves slowly and carefully toward the table. "I sit for a while, I stiffen up like an old man," Pilus says. His wife of 69 years, Marie, settles in a chair opposite Pilus, prompting him occasionally with reminders. Pilus was in the U.S. Army Signal Corps, part of an amphibious assault force, a "specialized group," he says. "I have no idea why I was selected for that group," Len Pilus said. "They gave you an aptitude test. I had no training for what I did. I went to school every day to learn about the Signal Corps, electricity and all that." D-Day veteran Len Pilus, 92 of Essex Junction, was in the third wave of American soldiers who landed on Omaha Beach in Normandy on June 6, 1944.

Chapter 1 Rough seas

Drafted in 1942 from his hometown of Newburgh, N.Y., 60 miles north of New York City, Pilus was the youngest of nine children: eight boys and one girl. His father, a widower who worked in a paper mill, was raising his children on his own. "Len's mother passed away when he was an infant, so my father-in-law did a real good job of raising his family with the help of his boys when they got older," Marie Pilus said. Four of Pilus' older brothers were already serving in the war when he was drafted. "We pitched in as much as we could," Len Pilus said. "I wanted to stay home and help my father. I was working a pretty good job, then I had to go. I think having four brothers in I should have gotten a break, but I wasn't looking for it."

Pilus went to Fort Dix, N.J., for basic signal school, learning how to install telephones, and then on to Camp Bradford in Norfolk, Va., for amphibious training. "I spent more time in the water than some sailors did, on landing craft," Pilus said. "I took to it pretty good." After nearly two years of training, Pilus found himself in Weymouth, England, boarding a boat on the English Channel. It was mid-day. Pilus doesn't remember how long he sat in port before finally launching, but he does remember the water was pretty rough once his boat was off the coast of France. "When this all first started, we thought we were going on another practice day," Pilus said. "We didn't know whether it was the real thing or not because we had so many practice landings in different parts of England over the year. We weren't sure until we got out in the Channel and saw hundreds of boats." Approaching Normandy in rough seas, Pilus watched as amphibious tanks that were supposed to support the invasion sank, their crews jumping out to try to save themselves. The first challenge for the invading infantry was to make the transition from ships to landing craft.

"We had to climb down rope ladders with the waves going," Pilus said. "You had to time yourself to step into the landing craft. Some fellows sprained ankles or broke a leg because of bad timing." On shore the German guns were booming, and the Allied destroyers were firing back. "We saw a lot of shells hit the water, and they hit some ships, of course," Pilus said. The water was up to Pilus' knees as he waded into the cold Atlantic. Unlike some other unfortunate soldiers who were dropped off in water so deep they drowned, the pilot of Pilus' boat was able to bring the troops closer to the beach. Before the ramp on his landing craft dropped, creating an opening to the battle almost as wide as his living room, Pilus said, the mood among his fellow soldiers was mixed, and maybe a little confused. "We were oblivious to everything," he said. "We were in a pretty good mood though. Of course a lot of us was praying, I'll tell you that."

On the beach, confusion reigned. "It was very noisy with the fire from our battleships and destroyers and the Germans shooting our way," Pilus said. "A shell hit near us and killed one boy." I think of it very often. I think of the guys I was with almost every day. Len Pilus, WWII veteran..... The shell, fired from the notorious 88 mm artillery gun that was a mainstay of the Germany army — known simply as an "eighty-eight" — landed yards away from where a prostrate Pilus was trying desperately to dig into the big round stones and sand of the beach. "He died on impact, not a direct hit, but the concussion killed him, the shell hit so near him," Pilus said. Moments later, the explosion of another shell threw another soldier onto Pilus, bringing the rifle he held in his hand crashing down onto Pilus' hand and carving the shape of a signet ring Pilus wore into his finger. That soldier survived. Unable to dig in because of the stones in their way, Pilus and his sergeant advanced, taking cover behind a hay wagon loaded with equipment. "We hid behind that for awhile," Pilus said. "We knew we were supposed to be in another location, so we started up to where we were supposed to go." As they looked behind them, the wagon was hit by an eighty-eight and caught fire. "We were lucky there," Pilus said.

Reaching their destination, Pilus and his company set up the switchboard and radio that would allow communication among the various invasion forces. Pilus and a companion manned the switchboard 24 hours a day, digging a foxhole for the switchboard, and a second foxhole to sleep in while the other was on duty. "At night we worried about Germans creeping in and lobbing a grenade in the hole," Pilus said. "It was a little scary." On their first night on the beach, Pilus and his buddy had slept in a trench that also held the body of a dead German soldier. "We had no alternative," Pilus said. "We didn't sleep next to him, but we knew he was there. There were probably more up the line, but we didn't look for them." Pilus stayed put near the beach as the Allied forces advanced over the coming days, even finding time for a visit to the ancient monastery at Mont Saint-Michel as the war moved farther and farther away. He never fired his carbine.

Chapter 3 The journey home

Eventually, Pilus and his comrades took over a chateau about three miles inland where they set up communications. They stayed within five miles of the beach at all times, and after several days, the Germans were no longer a threat. "They were headed towards Germany," Pilus said. By Christmas Day, Pilus was in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean on the Queen Mary, on his way back to the United States. "We had a good feast on the Queen Mary for Christmas, I'll tell you that," he said. After landing in New York City, Pilus saw his chance to surprise his wife, Marie, spoiled when she heard through the grapevine that he was back on American soil. "He was very upset," Marie Pilus, 88, remembered. "I said, 'Don't worry about it. You're home, that's the important thing.'" But Pilus wasn't home for long. After a 17-day leave, he was in Hawaii, training for a landing in Japan. "We were on Mt. Maui when we heard the news they dropped the bomb," Pilus said. "They continued with the maneuvers, they didn't call them off."

Pilus and his wife have three daughters, one of whom still lives in Vermont. The couple settled into a quiet life after the war as Leonard Pilus worked as an accountant at IBM in Essex Junction — a "pencil pusher," as he puts it — and Marie worked at a local college. At first, Marie Pilus says, her husband didn't have much to say about the war. "I never realized what he had done," she said. "I knew he was on the beach, but that's all I knew and he wouldn't talk about it for years. I stopped asking questions." Len Pilus said a lot of his fellow soldiers were the same way he was about the war. "They wanted to put it out of their minds, you know what I mean?" he said. They would talk at reunions, however, the first of which came about 20 years after the end of the war, in Muskogee, Okla. "After the reunions started I got more comfortable talking about it," Pilus said. "You get together with your buddies, you know?" That first reunion was followed by nearly a dozen more, the last one being about two years ago. The couple probably won't be attending any more reunions, if there are any more. It's difficult for his wife to travel these days, Len Pilus said.

The couple returned to Normandy for the 40th anniversary of the battle in 1984, where Len Pilus saw a concrete stanchion on the beach where he had taken cover 40 years earlier. "It was the only one on the beach, and I don't know the reason for it," Pilus said he got tears in his eyes when he walked on the beach. "I think of it very often. I think of the guys I was with almost every day," Pilus said. "I had a feeling I'd be all right even going in on the landing craft. I was at peace. I wasn't getting the shakes or anything. I had that feeling that everything would be all right."

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Re: Leonard L. Pilus Class of 1941 - Maryann Pilus Liebel 05/Apr/2017