Editor's note: This is the third in a series about Joseph Stott of Ogden. This week Stott begins his duties in France and Germany as a driver.

Once we got above the beach at Normandy, we rendezvoused at St. LÃ¥, but by then there was no town. We went to a flat place above the town site, where the engineers put out an airfield. (The engineers laid out airstrips everywhere we went.)

As we went along, the British tank crews would pull off the road and have their tea.

"Hi, Yank," they'd call out. "Come and have a spot of tea." They'd crawl under their tanks, have their spot of tea, then jump back in their tanks and off they'd go.

As we moved along through France, displaced persons were moving one way, and we had quite a problem with them. Sometimes on the way back from the lines, I'd pick them up, though we weren't supposed to. I once picked up a one-legged Frenchman and his little daughter, who could speak English. I took them back as far as I was going, then let them off. Whenever I was in that area again, I'd bring them K rations. (When I returned to the States, I sent them CARE packages.)

In France, officers would be flown to Detachment No. 2, a major airport; then they'd be flown in a small airplane up to us, at Detachment No. 1. We'd have laid out a steel landing ramp and put up a windsock. We'd then take them to wherever they were assigned. If it was in one of the back areas, we'd use a sedan. I drove a Packard, and when it had water pump problems, I was given a Chrysler, and when it had problems, a Plymouth, along with my jeep. When I went to the forward areas, it was always in my jeep.

When we drove on the continent, we got word that the Germans were stringing wires across the road at head height (in combat we always drove with the windshield down, because otherwise it would reflect light, which enemy aircraft could see and then target). I knew how to weld, so I went to ordnance and said, "Hey, I've found a piece of angle iron [2 inches by 2 inches]. Can I weld it to my front bumper?" I made some little notches in it to catch the wire. I did hear a "ping" two or three times as I hit those wires.

Also, when we went through a town, we first stopped and put the roof of the jeep up. There were no sidewalks in those towns. You stepped out of the front door and onto the street. The second floor and up extends out over the street. The enemy could stand on the second floor and drop a hand grenade down on you. If it dropped in your jeep, it would be hard to find, whereas if it dropped on your roof, it would bounce off. Then you'd hear a "bang!" as you passed on, and that happened to me a couple of times.

I drove British, American and even some Russian officers. I got to know one Russian very well, though we couldn't understand each other by talking. We made ourselves understood through gestures.

If the officers were lieutenants or captains, quite often they would say to us, "Okay, pick me up tomorrow." I'd have to find my own place to get billeted and get food. By contrast, the majors, colonels and generals would ask, "Where does my driver go?" Then they would take me to where my billet was to be. There was that much difference between junior and senior officers. The junior officers were taking care of No. 1.

The front line was a very fluid line. When we went to the war room, we'd be told, "This road is okay, that road is okay." Several times I'd be coming along and meet a roadblock. I'd be asked, "What are you doing on that side of the line?"

"I was told this was our area," I'd reply. Then I'd be told we hadn't taken that area yet.

Next week: Driving stories can be as exciting as combat stories.

Some veterans may wish, on their own, to tape or digital record their memories of military service. These will be transcribed and archived. For instructions on how to do this, e-mail Don Norton, at This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it