Sisters man witnessed history

Bill Miller, 83, won't have to think very long about his epitaph:

"Lucky in Love," he said.

He was referring to his wife Nancy, or "Nan," who has shared his life since 1948 - and what a life it has been.

They were close to some major events of the 20th Century, raised two children and saw the world during Miller's 20 years with the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA).

The couple shared several assignments at "hot spots," such as Vietnam, the Philippines and Thailand. Nan usually worked as a secretary for the agency wherever they went.

Miller's story really begins in 1943 during the dark days of World War II. Miller enlisted at 18 in the 10th Mountain Infantry Division, or the "Ski Troops." The National Ski Patrol convinced the Army that it needed soldiers trained to fight on skis in case the U.S. was invaded through Alaska. The army agreed and asked the Ski Patrol to do the recruiting.

When Miller heard about plans for this 12,000-man division, there was no doubt in his mind where he wanted to serve. After all, he had been skiing since he was three with his family in upstate New York and was an expert. (He still is; he served as a ski instructor last winter at Hoodoo Mountain Resort).

Unfortunately, his vision of serving his army time gliding down the slopes was cut short when poor eyesight meant assignment to the weapons platoon. This meant packing heavy loads of ammo, machine guns and mortars. Work that had to be done on snowshoes, not skis.

"I went from a ski trooper to a snowshoe trooper," he said.

Miller enlisted at five-feet-seven inches and a slight 113 pounds. The grueling training beefed him up to 145. The preparation started in the high mountains of Colorado during the fall of 1943. The young men (few over 30) learned rock climbing, weapons, compass reading, tactics and outdoor skills.

For Miller, most of the time was spent carrying the normal 60- to 70-pound pack, plus cans of ammo or supplies that took the weight to 90 pounds. A packboard on the back was used to hold the ammo.

Miller credits that board with saving his life twice in combat.

The 18-month stateside training included a six-month stint in Texas. His unit did 20-mile hikes at a fast clip in order to break Army speed records.

The toughening process was crucial, as the division embarked for Italy just after Christmas of 1944, with some of the heaviest fighting of the war ahead of them. The Germans had solid defensive positions in the mountains of Italy. The U.S. forces and allies had to take those mountains to secure access to the Po Valley in order to free Italy from the Nazis.

Mt. Belvedere was their target. It was heavily defended with deep gun emplacements and machine gun nests. Three prior attacks had failed. The tough 10th Division was chosen to take the mountain.

Miller said the mountain was like Black Butte: steep, but possible to climb with only a few ropes.

The attack started at 10 p.m. The troops had no ammunition because they didn't want to give away their location to the enemy. The strategy was to advance and if a gun fired, throw a grenade because it had to be a German. A friend watching from down below said he couldn't believe how many casualties came back down the mountain and the heavy fire endured by Miller and his comrades.

They took the mountain - thanks to help from a nearby unit that scaled a cliff using rock-climbing techniques and routed the enemy. The unit caught the Germans off guard because a successful ascent was considered impossible.

Once the mountains were secure, the soldiers made rapid progress through the Po Valley leading to the abandonment of Italy by the Germans and eventual end to the War in Europe in May of 1945.

Miller disdains the title "hero" and says he was "scared half to death" and as concerned with staying alive as killing the enemy. But he did receive a Bronze Star in the campaign.

Once he was hit in the back with a burst of bullets and survived, saved by the helpful packboard he carried to haul machine gun ammo. The bullets rolled him over.

"I thought I was dead," he said.

The second incident involved a mortar shell that knocked him into a ditch, but again the packboard saved him. A passing buddy commented loud enough for him to hear, "Looks like Miller bought it."

A young friend from his home town of Utica, New York, was hit by mortar shrapnel and died in his arms.

Another time his unit held off a furious German night attack and used the dead bodies of American soldiers for protection. Once he dove into a latrine thinking it was a foxhole. A friendly sergeant threw him some extra battle pants. He later was killed right in front of Miller by an artillery shell.

Miller recalls a harrowing experience for him that relates directly to the challenges facing today's troops in the Middle East. His company (200 men) was advancing up a hill when they came upon several stone huts, some recently occupied by German machine gun crews. He heard voices through a wooden door. Miller was about to kick the door down and throw a grenade when he heard a woman's voice. He discovered the hut was filled with women and children seeking refuge.

"I don't think I could have lived with myself if that room was filled with dead women and children," he said.

As terrible as his service was, Miller says our soldiers in the Middle East have it much worse. They are constantly faced with situations such as the one he faced on that hill in Italy. The soldiers are surrounded by people who could kill them at any moment, but can't tell who is who.

Sometimes this results in the killing of innocent civilians and subsequent stress.

That's something Miller knows a lot about. The next phase of his life made him an expert on combat stress and fatigue.

Next week: Bill Miller's experiences in the fledgling Central Intelligence Agency, and life in Sisters.