WW II tank vets celebrated at Old Bethpage ceremony on 80th anniversary of Sherman tank

The photo of his Sherman tank, taken in a field in the last days of World War II, hung on the wall for decades at the Andreadis home in West Hills.

And though his son Nick said Thursday his father rarely discussed his experiences with the 37th Tank Battalion, A Company, 4th Armored Division, fighting the Germans in 1944 and 1945, he recalled how beneath that old picture Jim Andreadis had written three simple words: "My Best Friend."

Andreadis, 96, along with fellow World War II tank veteran Julius Fiorini, 99, of West Babylon, who fought with the 747th Tank Battalion at the Battle of the Bulge, was honored as part of a pre-Veterans Day celebration Thursday at the Museum of American Armor in Old Bethpage.

Joined by family members and a host of dignitaries — Andreadis was flanked by his wife of 71 years, Cathryn, as well as his son and daughter, while Fiorini was joined by his four children — the celebration also honored the 80th anniversary of the Sherman tank.

The so-called "medium" tank made famous by Gen. George S. Patton was the main battle tank used by the United States and western allies in World War II. Built in large numbers — almost 50,000 were built by Ford, American Locomotive and other companies between 1942-45 — it operated in North Africa, Sicily, Italy, western Europe and even with the Marines in the Pacific.

"He doesn't see himself as a hero," Nick Andreadis, 60, of Centerport, said of his father. "He just felt like he had a job to do and he did it."

As John Fiorini, 69, of Hicksville, said of his dad: "He hardly ever talked about his time in the war, maybe only once in a while when friends came over."

The National World War II Museum in New Orleans estimates that of the 16 million Americans who served in World War II, only 167,284 survived as of 2022 — with about 180 passing each day. Known as "The Greatest Generation," only about 9,635 World War II veterans survive today in New York. "Every day," the museum notes, "memories of World War II — its sights and sounds, its terrors and triumphs — disappear."

As Nick Andreadis said: "They came home and built the America we have today. … I believe the further we get from that, the further we get from them, we lose who we are — or part of who we are."

Drafted straight out of high school in Brooklyn, Andreadis joined the Army in 1944 and was sent to Fort Knox before shipping overseas and landing in Le Havre, France, not long after D-Day.

The Sherman had a crew of five: commander, gunner, loader, driver and an assistant driver who also manned the bow turret machine gun. Together, those men lived for weeks at a time aboard those tanks, sharing dark, dank, confined, noise-filled quarters that reeked of gas, oil and burnt gunpowder, eating cold rations, rarely able to sleep or bathe.

Fiorini, who held the rank of sergeant, was a tank commander who named his tank "Candy," since he often traded cigarettes for candy. His crew fought at the Battle of the Bulge.

Grandson Thomas Fiorini Jr. wrote in a letter that was made part of the ceremonies Thursday: "My grandfather has spent his time since leaving the Army trying to move on from his experience in the war. … As we were hoping for glorious war stories, the best we got from him was how filthy they were and how they could never get comfortable because their bodies were covered in lice."

It was only in recent years, Fiorini wrote, that he learned his grandfather had been awarded the Bronze Star and Purple Heart among his many military medals.

Standing beside a Sherman tank at the museum Thursday, Jim Andreadis was equally reticent to discuss his experience as a private first class on a tank nicknamed "Alcoholic Ike."

Andreadis, who after the war became a structural engineer working on projects, including Johnson & Johnson headquarters in New Brunswick, N.J., and One Liberty Plaza in Manhattan, served as a loader, or "cannoneer," responsible for loading the 76-millimeter gun with shells that weighed more the 12 pounds each.

"The food was the worst," he said of his war experience. "You ate cold cans of beans and spaghetti with a spoon. … But I liked the fact we were in a tank and so didn't have to walk."

 "Though," he said, "I didn't know what those tanks were called when I joined."

Troops nicknamed Sherman tanks "Ronsons," after the cigarette lighter whose sales slogan was: "Lights every time." Troops noted they burst into flames when hit by German artillery fire.

And, Nick Andreadis said Thursday, he was well into his 50s before his father shared stories, like how his first tank was destroyed by German artillery — the crewmate seated next to Andreadis was killed instantly — or of the horrors he saw when his crew was among the first U.S. soldiers to liberate the concentration camp Ohdruff, which was associated with Buchenwald.

Or how he ended up on graves registration duty after his crew ended up in Pilsen, in what was then Czechoslovakia.

"He just never wanted to talk about it," Nick Andreadis said.

On Thursday, Jim Andreadis was happy to tell of one joy he found amid a postwar European landscape littered with dead men, devastated cities and dead animals.

It was about how he bartered "a few chocolate bars and cigarettes" for a German shepherd, after which he paid $28 to the American Red Cross to ship the dog home for him to Astoria, Queens.

"I named him Duke," he said.

By John Valenti

john.valenti@newsday.com

John Valenti, a reporter at Newsday since 1981, has been honored nationally by the Associated Press and Society of the Silurians for investigative, enterprise and breaking news reporting, as well as column writing, and is the author of “Swee'pea,” a book about former New York playground basketball star Lloyd Daniels. Valenti is featured in the Emmy Award-winning ESPN 30-for-30 film “Big Shot.”