Joel Potts Jr. of New Martinsville displays the many medals he and his battalion earned in World War II.

The red, white, and blue mailbox at Joel Potts Jr.’s home in New Martinsville might not seem all that telling. After all, outward signs of patriotism are common in West Virginia. The decal on the front storm door that says “Freedom Isn’t Free” further hints that one of our country’s many devoted Americans lives within.

But there is something rather rare about this patriotic home’s resident-Potts is one of the dwindling number of living World War II veterans.

The 96-year-old man was one of the 11.5 million drafted to fight in that era. He received a letter requiring him to report to the War Memorial Building on Main Street, New Martinsville, on Sept. 18, 1942. The 27-year-old manager of the State Food Store on Main Street did as required.

The accepted inductees were given two weeks to settle their affairs, culminating in their gathering in Fort Hayes, Ohio, to get their uniforms and interview for jobs. Potts was logically placed in the quartermaster division that handles supplies of all kinds.

From there the troops were shipped out for basic training; Potts ended up in Camp Lee in Virginia. He was later sent to Ft. Jackson, S.C., for the necessary training to be a soldier, learning things like combat through what he described as “severe” methods. It was a rather stark change for most of the troops who had enjoyed rather peaceful, pleasant lives in bucolic America. “They said, ‘That life is gone, now you’re going to be a killer,'” recalled Potts.

Portrait of Joel Potts Jr. taken by a Japanese photographer on Nov. 1, 1945.

From that setting he was shipped to Camp Gordon, Ga., where the 693rd Quartermaster Battalion was formed. Potts spent his time in the headquarters with 14 men and four officers. “We ran the whole show,” he said proudly. They were busy about the business of scheduling and conducting inspections.

Thanks to that duty Potts was spared witnessing the only fatality in his unit during his time of service. He recalled how a chief warrant officer was in charge of instructing a class on land mines. “He was showing one and, Lord, when he put it on the ground and stepped on it, it exploded and killed him,” said Potts. Obviously the mines were supposed to be dummies. “They had no idea that one of those mines in the manufacturing must have gotten sorted out and they didn’t realize it was a live mine,” said Potts. “There was a big investigation.

“That was the only man we lost,” said Potts. “He was such a nice fellow-a very churchgoing man and sang in the choir. He always sang ‘The Lord’s Prayer.'”

Such fond memories of his fellow soldiers are a big part of Potts’ story of service. “I used to say that Hitler ruined my life. I had to start all over, you might say,” relayed Potts. “But I met some wonderful fellows. It was a great experience. I didn’t get hurt. I didn’t get shot. I saw a lot of the world.”

It is because of those positive aspects that Potts wrote a small book, “Memories of the 693rd Medical Detachment with the 693rd Quartermaster BN; World War II; Attached to U.S. 7th Army (E.T.O.); Attached to the U.S. 6th Army (P.T.0.)” On the dedication page Potts wrote, “This is a personal history of our outfit. Its sole purpose is to remind us of some of the good times we had. It should also prove that men will find time to enjoy life in the midst of happenings that aren’t so pleasant.”

Sergeant Joel Potts Jr. and Corporal Jerome Kline enter Germany in 1945.

The book, printed in 2002, was certainly a labor of love and a fine tribute to his battalion. He sold many of them, gave some away, and plans to distribute them even more freely by perhaps giving them away at The Book Store in New Martinsville. The tome includes many enjoyable stories and photos from his time in the Army.

Potts’ time overseas was prepared for at Camp Shelby near Hattiesburg, Miss. He then went to Camp Kilmer in Newark, N.J. It was from there in December 1943 that his battalion shipped out on the Seatrain Texas that included approximately 70 railroad engines and tenders to replace those French ones destroyed by Germany.

Not until late 1946, after returning home, did Potts read an article in the American Legion magazine that explained the Seatrain Texas had a bulls-eye on it. “The Germans knew of the Seatrain Texas and knew it was bringing so many trains, engine, tanks, and guns into ports in Europe. They were looking for it,” shared Potts. The Seatrain Texas, by orders from President Franklin D. Roosevelt, was ordered to be well maintained and used as much as possible because it was faster than most ships.

The Seatrain Texas docked at Cherbourg, France, where the troops departed and headed across France, seeing the site of the Battle of the Bulge less than a month after it occurred. They then went to southern Germany, finally ending up south of Munich.

It was there, on May 8, 1945, that word came to his battalion by radio that the German forces had surrendered. “The day of the ending was uneventful,” wrote Potts in his book. “No one sang, no one was drunk, we just felt better, went to bed early and slept easily, for the first time in months.”

The 693rd Quartermaster Battalion poses for a group photograph at Camp Gordon, Ga., in 1943. Joel Potts Jr. of New Martinsville is the third man from the right in the back row.

During the next few days the men of his group spent the days quietly. Some of his friends made trips inside the Dachau concentration camp on business. “They said it was terrible,” said Potts, who wrote, “The bestiality of the new order was evident in the line of boxcars filled with corpses which were in the rail yards at Dachau. It was more effective in showing us what we were fighting against than all the propaganda issued by our government during the war.”

The troops left Europe on the USS William Weigel, only to land in Manilla. “Boy were we surprised!” recalled Potts. The capital of the Philippines “was all torn up.” Potts said there were many buildings still with dead soldiers in them. “The stench was terrible,” he recalled.

They moved on to the open fields of the northern Philippines for a staging area, getting ready for the invasion of Japan.

It was during that time that the atomic bomb was dropped. Potts and his fellow soldiers read about it in the Stars and Stripes. “We couldn’t figure out what an atomic bomb was. We didn’t know anything.”

The Elizabeth C. Stanton, a Liberty ship, took the unit to Japan. “We went combat loaded,” said Potts. But what they found was a quiet, desolate place. “You could hear a pin drop.. They had all moved to the hills-the Japanese people.”

Army buddies Frank Hartle of Pittsburgh, Robert H. Bruckhorst of New Jersey, and Samuel Gilbert of Florida visit Joel Potts Jr. in New Martinsville in 1950.

Eventually the people started to come back to their homes and the United States put out literature that the troops were there to help.

Potts returned to New Martinsville in January 1946, having seen the world in a rather unusual way, but oddly, a quite usual way at that time. He was discharged from Fort Knox, Ky., as a master sergeant, the highest rank for a non-commissioned officer.

“I thought, ‘Well, what am I going to do?'” said Potts of his return. State Food Stores was required by law to give him his job back, or at least a similar position. In the six weeks the government paid him to look for civilian employment, he applied at local plants, but no job materialized. He returned to State Food Stores at their headquarters in Moundsville. Eventually he and Margaret Witschey co-managed the Central Food Market where NTB is currently located in New Martinsville.

“I liked that and I was pretty good at it,” said Potts.

Eventually he got a job as a teller at the First National Bank and worked his way up to executive vice president. He retired in 1982, having worked there for 35 years. It was a $3 million bank when he began and an over $30 million bank at his retirement.

His civilian life also included marriage to Virginia Schupbach in 1952. She worked at the 5&10, manning the hot roasted peanuts machine. He would stop in for a snack before work. He thought she was nice and good looking and so their courtship began. They had one child, a son, Joel Potts III.

At 96, Joel Potts Jr. is one of the last of his battalion still living. “I corresponded with most of them for several years,” said Potts, who explained that he would get cards from wives telling of his mates’ deaths. “As far as I know there are only two of us living now.” His friend Frank Hartle is living in Florida and keeps asking him to fly south for a visit, but that has yet to materialize.

“We thought a lot of each other,” said Potts of his battalion members. “Some of those boys were very smart. They were nice fellows.”