Category Archives: Veterans’ Stories

Task Force Davisson by Al Alvarez, 7th Artillery Battalion

“Recon, you find ’em; engineers, you fixjem; tanks, you fight ’em; and TD’s, you finish em!” With these emphatic, but crystal clear adjurations, LTC Henry L Davisson set the tempo for his task force subordnance commanders. It was 16 December 1944, and the yet-to-be-named “Ardennes Offensive” had exploded. This Kraut’s massive tank penetration now was creating this northern shoulder of what was to be its acquired sobriquet, “The Battle of the Bulge”.

In response, hastily thrown together units from the vaunted 1st INF Division, “The Big Red One,” would acquire its title “from the aggressive commander of the 634th T.D. BN.” “Task Force Davisson” was thus quickly formed as a lightly armored, tank-killing reaction force! MAJ Olson, the “TFD” S3 designated the line of march, handed out strip-maps for a southward reconnaissance.    Our armored convey consisted of the 1st Recon Troop heading out with puny 37 mm armed M-8 Greyhound armored cars. Intermingled came the 1st Combat Engineer BN’s “A” Co. riding its soft-skinned vehicles. Now came “D” Co. of the 745th Tank BN with its measly LT Whippert tanks armed also with 37 mm guns, but backed up by its 75 mm assault gun platoon. Spread out and looking for targets came “C” Co. of the 634th TD BN with their 90 mm rifles, claiming the ability to compete with German armor. All ably supported by “the King of the Battlefield,” our four-man “F.O. Chaste” Arty 2 Observation party (with the common capability to call down Divarty and Corps Arty “barrages or serenades”).

Our battery veterans of the “Lucky 7th” Arty BN, who had fought German armor in Tunisia, Algeria, the beach at Sicily, and in the fields of Normandy, spoke out in warning to our little observer party: “Be ready. This TF Davisson is outgunned by the huge Panthers and King Tiger monsters reported coming your way. Remember, your tank-destroying force needs to equal or outgun those battle-tested German Behemoths and also mount sufficient armor to protect themselves from the superior German anti­tank weapons. In other words, you better be ‘killer tanks’ rather than tank killers. If not, you will have to stop ’em with indirect 105 mm or 155 mm Arty concentrations.”

Despite these knowledgeable words, we heard only the spumngs of COL Davisson. Quickly, the “TFD” saddled up and cautiously commenced traveling south through snowy Belgium. The lengthy convoy slid out of SourBrodt and Robertville and clanked into Walk and Weimes, small villages recently vacated by U.S. medical units.  The weather was frigid cold and damp, but the fog was dissipating, and for once, Arty would have wonderfully clear observation! Here we were, “The Lucky 7th’s” forward observation party on high ground, salivating at the abundance of lucrative targets! Spotting from our town’s church steeple with our 20-power scopes, German convoys, to include tanks, traveling west across our front from 863-020 to 863-024—an artillery man’s dream!. Compounding our good fortune, our “Lucky 7th1 Arty BN had recently been supplied with the previously secretive ammo employing “the proximity fuse” constructed around its nose plug, which activated when the emitted radio beam encountered an object within 15 yards! We were going to have the proverbial field day .. and we deserved it!

Our parent organization, “The Fighting First,” was still recuperating from its horrific bloodletting in “The Hurtin’ Forest” this past November, where the Krauts had grounded us into Hurteen Forest and pasi^ Surely now was to be payback time … but the war gods frowned and said no, …. not yet!  The American Artillery ammunition supplies across the entire 1st Army front were dangerously low, contriving to place “quotas” on all “shoots”! Our radio pleas to FDC for fire missions received a “wait out”! Our frantic telephone messages informed us their priority was to our east. There, our sister regiment, the 26th INF “Blue Spaders,” were in continuous battle with German armored thrust at Bullingen and Butenbach. There, LTC Derrill, M. Daniels, and his 2d BN would successfully blunt the German COL Piepers’ rampaging westward drive and dream! That portion of the northern shoulder would remain firm!

So now it was to be our turn. The German 1st SS Panzers, frantically searching for a route on the Rollbahnen to the west, then sideslipped and proceeded to smash at us; “TFD” now intermixed with 3d BN 16th INF at Weimes/ Our front erupted with tank fire and reported INF advancing plus intensified artillery fire in our immediate front. Our first indication was a flying buzz bomb smashing into the battery area and WIAs three gunners—CPL Homer A .Jerome, T/5 Raymond A. Fink, and PFC Erio Baton. We were further alerted by a commotion reported on our eastern outpost which luckily forewarned everyone in town! Speeding down the only street in Weimes came two G.I. jeeps overly loaded with Krauts. Firing madly and careening widely to escape our firing gallery response, they crashed off the road on the west side of the village.

COL Davisson then ordered, “Recon, send a squad to investigate and recover bodies and/or the vehicles”! LT Cangerosi, our F.O., took over the viewing scopes from our lofty OP as the submachine-armed Recon squad gingerly approached the overturned vehicles. They sprayed the area, righted a jeep, and returned with a WIA spreadeagled on the hood! Another German captive was shoved into the co-pilot’s seat, hands on his head. Arriving at the town square, now crowded with a rubbernecking G.I. throng, the Jerry prisoners held center stage! Looking like “right out of Hollywood” with his peaked hat and black leather topcoat and gloves, in excellent English, he demanded medical attention for his men! In response, someone in the crowd belted him with a rifle butt! He was saved further harm by the NCOs who held back the provoked soldiers. It appeared that in breaking through our outpost, the Germans had hailed in English, then fired and killed and wounded the surprised guards. These angry crowd members were old-time buddies of the soldier killed by this “ruse-de-guerre”!

Later, with his head now bandaged, the German officer was carted off to the 16th INF Regimental S-2, where subsequent interrogation divulged he was an officer-courier transporting the photographic proof of this German explosive and successful penetration through the American lines. The following day, angered regimental staff members descended and oversaw a search of the snowy jeep accident area and found this valuable film!

These important photos, immediately developed at the rear headquarters, received prominent world attention as the classic “Bulge” combat film showing smilincL German paratroopers as “successfulwarriors in action”! With our shooting priority reestablished and our observation still A-OK, our ARTY observer party initiated fire missions with visibly outstanding results! LT Anthony Cangelosi, our latest F.O., who would break the “bad luck cycle” of officer casualties and proceed to “make it” to the war’s end in Czechoslovakia, took targets under fire. First, we fired on “enemy troops forming for attack,” then followed a mission on enemy vehicles. Finally, we observed for a Divarty TOT on an enemy assembly area. With the horizon ablaze, we continued with harassing fires throughout the night. CPL Maurice Vacher was our instrument CPL who would be promoted and get the Purple Heart the following week. He would return, bandaged, with three new stripes and stories of great chow in the medical rear. Me, now a Tech 5th (CPL’s pay without the authority) and my cohort, T/5 Rene Cote, our dependable driver, rounded out our crew. At first light, all of us, now professionals after six months on the combat scene, poured destruction on the advancing white-painted enemy armor and accompanying white-clad infantry.   After four missions and 275 rounds expended, we reported “enemy activity ceased and one tank burning”!   Later, during a slow afternoon, CPT Fred F. Chirigotis from the 745th Tanks asked for our indirect fire observing so they could “use up” their 75 mm ammo. With a total expenditure, their tanks would be able to acquire new 76 mm tubes! Jumping at the chance, I got some invaluable and exhilarating shooting experience and contributed some damage, too!

During another quiet period, on Cote’s watch, he asked, “What the hell are those guys doing?” An engineering squad seemed to be laying a hasty minefield n the road leading south into the town of Faymonyille. Apparently, these engineers must have been short of mines because the engineering Sergeant had his squad scrounge up dinner plates from the nearby Belgium homes. His squad, laden with this ample supply of dishes, were pacing off the distances and placing plates face down on the road and adjoining fields. As viewers, our interest peaked. “Look at him now. He’s putting some real mines amongst those kitchen plates!” Finally, the squad members covered these actual metallic mines with large porcelain dinner platters. “Very clever, these Americans!”    Those porcelain covers will inhibit the mine metallic detectors.” Later that afternoon, as it snowed, our forward area was dimpled with the ingenious defensive preparation.  German counterfire re-intensified and seemed to be directed at our high ground and steeple, so we moved into town to the second floor of the town hall or barroom . .. “kaboom”! The biggest tank you ever saw blew our jeep to kingdom come. No one was hurt, but we sure were happy we had gone to church the previous Sunday! We countered with “purple smoke,” our air strike marking rounds as FDC insisted, “No aircraft available”. A couple of more rounds that “landed first, then whistled after” a nd whew, he backed out of view somewhere back into Faymonville. The troops were understandably quiet as we hurriedly plastered the town with HE and WP and set numerous fires, everyone privately hoping he was through with us good guys!

Our Chief of Detail and my boss S/SGT Joseph Desforge and Motor Sergeant “Shorty” Hofer came up during darkness with a replacement jeep. Besides replacing our food and extra radio batteries, they told us we were stopping an enemy armored attack on the northern shoulder of something called “the Battle of the Bulge”! After that illuminating information, we settled back in, but encountered some new problems. Our “posit” rounds were exploding at their maximum ordinate as premature bursts over our heads! Apparently, the sensitive fuses were set off by clouds! As if that was not enough, SGT Ringer’s howitzer, back in the firing battery area, had a muzzle burst and the gun was destroyed, but luckily, with no gunner casualties. Probably the intense cold on the metal tube and the sudden heat of the morning firing caused it. My remembrance of this December is the bitter cold, with all the troops occupied with ways of keeping warm. The approved method was putting on layers of any clothing! Many brainy GIs wrapped blanket strips over straw around their boots and created an incredibly large footprint in the snow—anything for insulation to stave off trench foot while occupying their foxholes.

During our lengthy and boring time on watch, someone mentioned, “Today’s Christmas! This’ll make our 3″^ Christmas overseas for our ‘Lucky 7th‘ Arty BN.” Cote reminisces about Christmas ’42 in Africa and on the moors in England on Christmas of ’43. LT Cangelosi celebrated by knocking out an MG position at 864-013 with two direct hits!! The Doughs cheered and waved their arms and weapons, stamping their cold feet, too, in their exposed foxholes! Afterward, when I sneaked down to the chow line in an adjoining cellar, the cooks told us “Boomers” (Arty observers), “You’re doing a bang-up job.” But more importantly, he slipped me an extra helping of meat and potatoes!

From Christmas to New Year’s, .it was just continuous fire—at “enemy troops in the open” and “enemy tanks.” Our records show we averaged over 1,800 rounds per day during the last days of December 1944! This wall of steel both harassed and hampered the enemy’s efforts to exploit and enlarge his armored thrust. Our uninterrupted night defensive fires, requested by our supported 16th INF, commenced with the coming of darkness and carried over until daybreak! Even so, another strong tank counterattack was repulsed in the vicinity of 053-013 (railroad tracks near Steinback, Belgium) by the direct fire of the 634th TDs and 74 tankers. The blackened hulks of destroyed German tanks stood out against the snow. The bodies of German infantry were not as easily discerned!

New Year’s Day opened with hordes of German aircraft strafing our positions. As usual, the poor bloody infantry suffered the casualties, and as always, it’s the new replacements! We “boomers” hid in our cellar as the bomb explosions rattled around us, watching the LT celebrate by drinking his liquor ration as we under-aged peons looked on!  Rumors were now flying that we would attack Faymonville the first week of January ’45. So we took under fire all possible EN positions in the town. Methodically, we increased the destruction by dropping H.E. rounds through the roofs, then followed 9 up with W.P. to burn the houses. Most of them, however, were constructed of stone and resisted all our bombardments! Still, slowly, Faymonville was now systematically pulverized.

During that first week of January, we carefully, in conjunction with the mortars, fired in support of a patrol attempting to retrieve the body of LT McLaughin of “L” Co. KlA’d days previously.  LT Cangelosi “had the word” and got us ready by checking our equipment, clothing, and footwear. “I want constant commo while on the attack” he said. “The INF is going to get us on high ground every chance they can and protect us, too.” That’s good, but for me, first I must get and be warm! Layering of clothing was the answer. So it’s long underwear, shirts, jackets, many trousers, ponchos, wrapped blanket strips over straw, and joining the “monster footprint brigade”. With a French Foreign Legion “kepi” look, I covered my helmet with a white pillow slip with a flap covering my neck!!   Then I enclosed myself in a white bed sheet, a snow cape, and emerged through the slit for my head. Finally, I connected up the radio and set it on a German wooden sled with a 50-foot on/off switch for the LT’s use. We were “ready for Freddy”! Threw some cardboard ammo cartons filled with coffee, sugar, and cans of cream on the sled and loaded my pockets with “goodies”!

Now, as the last preparation, I ate everything I could of rations: crackers, cheese, meat and beans, cocoa, sugar, candy—anything for energy! “Now bring on those Krauts. I’m warm, full, and have dry feet. I can shoot, scoot, and communicate!”  On 14 January 1945 with heavy snow falling, the 16th INF Regiment’s 3rd BN commanded by LTC Charles T. Homer co-mingled with portions of T.F. Davisson’s tanks assaulted Faymonville! We (with me pulling the radio sled) accompanied “I” Co., than later “L” Co. As we slowly trudged into the northeast portion of Faymonville, mines in the snow took out some of “A” Co.’s 745th tanks, but the “Doughs’ continued despite incoming mortars. The first reports were 2 KIA and 15 WIA for our 3rd BN. We stopped at nightfall and ran a line to the nearest Co. To hear reports of 70 casualties for the 3rd BN. We fired harassing missions and kept everyone awake! The next morning dawned crisp and sunny, and LT Cangelosi returned from BN briefing: “We are going to take Schoppen, the next town to the southeast. Let’s move it!” Trudging again through the snow, we encountered some woods where MG fire erupted. LT Cangelosi quieted it with an H.E. concentration! We held up in these woods with no fires, no hot chow, and tried stomping our feet all night to stay warm! Only good thing was a can of sliced peaches (kept warm in my armpit) for breakfast from my food stash!

The following day (maybe the 15th of January), we accompanied the 3d BN’s “L” Co., which seemed to be in reserve since we stepped in the footprints of the lead company! The snow was knee deep and snowing fiercely with drifts piling up. Someone passed the word down the line, “We are in a blizzard!” Observation was impossible—we cannot see anything, but better still, the Germans cannot see us either! My day consisted of struggling through the snow, laying a line back on the road, and finally meeting our Arty liaison wire crew; then splicing the line with frozen fingers and hearing the two parties conversing. We, tried bumming rides on the only vehicles moving, “Weasels,” some type of a lightweight covered track vehicle. They seem to be ambulances carrying WIA and flying their Red Cross flags. Everyone on the road now piled on a tank Dozer for a slippery, dangerous ride back, and I followed my line back into a house. Thank God, the troops had fired up a stove, and it was crowded and cozy! While LT Cangelosi and SGT Vacher observed upstairs, I dried up and tried heating my radio batteries on the stove to restore their strength: “Eureka, I think it works!”

The Arty liaison bunch gave me the bad news that “Jonsey,” “A” Bty radioman, was KlA’d when we hit Faymonville. The word was he was hit by a sniper. We were losing a lot of “Doughs,” but they were strangers to me. “Jonsey” was an Arty buddy doing my same job on the |?.0.! I had just returned a quarter-mile reel of commo wire I’d borrowed from him.

We continued through the snow at the proverbial “snail’s pace,” the “Doughs” plodding through snowdrifts, the tanks sliding and slipping off the roads. Noticed sometfops had wrapped barbed wire around their boots for traction; they claimed it worked! My salvation was my sled and wrapped boots. The LT is pleased with his constant commo as I dragged the sled. The troops were pleased with his instantaneous fire mission at any obstacle, seen or unseen. I was pleased with my available food on the sled!  We entered Modersheid and fired normal missions on enemy troops, and then strangely, we gave them four missions of propaganda shells! We continued with 13 missions on enemy troops at CPs and OPs with approximately 70 hits on houses containing troops, with resulting fires. Then we continued with harassing fires throughout the night—nobody sleeps!

The next morning—don’t know the date—we commenced preparation fires prior to forward displacement, meaning “move out and drag the sled”! It seemed to be getting lighter in weight—probably from eating the rations and throwing away the used batteries. Great news! The 16th INF was squeezed out of the advance by the 18th INF, so for us, immediate support became general support, and another team took over. We were lucky—the food just about ran out! SGT Vacher quartered us in a large barn while LT Cangelosi checked with 3d BN for hot scoop! We cleaned up the equipment, gassed up the jeep, set up a stove, and cooked some liberated food!  We were in heaven: no observation duties, in a warm barn, bellies full, just radio watch and waiting for the LT to take us home. . . . “kaboom”! A round came through an opening in the front wall and OUT the back wall—with a startling, crackling explosion that showered us with debris. Straw flew everywhere, and we were covered with shards of wood, powdered stone, and animal droppings! No one was physically hurt, but someone had to change their laundry! We moved next door to another barn, smaller, but with stone walls!

It was 31 January 1945, and we were pulling radio watch only while putting in land lines to Arty Liaison. Listening on the Arty net, we heard a rare command given to the guns: “BTY C, continuous fire to the right at 5-sec intervals with a converged sheath” for an expenditure of 45 rounds at the same target! Contact by telephone to my old buddies at Arty BN FOC discloses that a subsequent 18th INF patrol reports a German 6-gun battery of 150 mm abandoned their positions and guns at the coordinates of that strange concentration!

It was the beginning of February; the sun came out, and it seemed that Task Force Davisson, having halted, then chased the Germans out of Belgium, then simply faded away with the spring thaw!

John R. Schaffner – 106th Infantry Division

ARMY DAZE – A FEW MEMORIES OF THE BIG ONE AND LATER RETURNS

By John R. Schaffner

PREFACE

The following narrative of my time spent with the 106th Infantry Division is made possible, in part, as far as dates and times are concerned, by reference to a short history of the 589th Field Artillery Battalion written not long after the end of the war by Francis H. Aspinwall, who was assigned to Headquarters Battery, and either kept a diary and/or had access to records prior to writing his booklet titled “History of the 589th Field Artillery Battalion”. I also used part of Frank’s text as a reference where other units and events are mentioned that I had no knowledge of at the time. We all were cautioned to not keep a journal of our activities, lest it slip into enemy hands and give them intelligence about our unit. A totally unnecessary precaution in my opinion, since upon our arrival at the front we were welcomed to the war by a radio broadcast direct from Berlin. The Germans probably knew as much about us as they needed to, long before we got there. I often wished that I had disregarded this order and written a daily account of my activities. I trust that Frank will not begrudge me the use of his historic material for reference.

Download the Full Story Here (PDF 128kb)

James Triesler, Associate Member interviews William Gillen a Bulge veteran

The interview is in the 2nd Armored Division Bulletin – December 2011 issue

James E. Triesler, a history and government teacher at Clover Hill High School in Chesterfield County, VA has 14 years experience as an educator and holds dual endorsements in English and history/social science. He also has coached softball, forensics, and debate and served as yearbook sponsor. Students often say they “hate history” but Mr. Triesler has found avenues for students to connect to history in a personal way. He brings in antiques, written documents, and artifacts to augment lessons and encourages students to engage in history by using the tools of historians such as census records, genealogical documents and special library collections.

Floyd Ragsdale, 106th Infantry Division returns to his 1944 foxhole

A Trip to Belgium – September 2010 Imagine that you are a WWII Veteran planning a trip to Belgium, a country where you fought in the Battle of the Bulge, 66 years ago. You have made flight reservations and have paid the fare. The journey will not be a group tour. You will be going alone. At 85 years of age you begin to have reservations, concerning your judgment about that journey. The flight is not non-stop. A change of planes is required at Detroit, Michigan and Amsterdam, Holland. Flight time is four months away. Consequently there is plenty of time to fret about your decision of planning, a two-week, journey 6,000 miles from home. Why all the anxiety now that you have committed yourself to go?
Reason No. 1 – Travel by Commercial Airlines is a 1st for you.
Reason No. 2 – How will you get from point A to Point B at the Air Terminal in Detroit, MI and Amsterdam, Holland?
Reason No. 3 – What if yon become sick along the way? After all you’re 85 years old. And if you do become ill; what then?

As departure time draws closer and closer, more doubts and questions pop up. Medicare, you learn, will not pay one dime of medical expenses outside the continental limits of the U.S.A. Purchasing insurance, which will cover medical & hospital expenses overseas, solves that issue. Advice is offered by someone with past experience, “Don’t take too many clothes and, be careful what you put in your carry on bag. At Airport Security Check Points, even a pair of fingernail clippers can be rejected.”  You are advised, don’t forget to obtain a passport and, put it in something that will hang around your neck. As a soldier, going overseas in l944, details were so elementary that you shouted your name, rank, army serial number and up the gang plank you walked; no other questions asked. A week before your departure you, by chance, acquire a travel companion who is an experienced air traveler. Then for the 1st time in weeks, you have a good nights sleep. The day of departure comes and with a travel companion riding with you to the Air terminal, you feel very much at ease.

A puzzle is encountered at the Moline Airport; however, an extra fee of fifty dollars solves the mystery. A similar issue faces you at the first stop in Detroit, MI. Although the Airline personnel admitted the error was theirs, they only wanted $2,000 to correct their blunder. The situation, here and now, is your travel Companions’ flight, to Amsterdam in Europe, is four hours ahead of your flight The circumstance, of flying alone, has been dumped back in your lap. However, your would-be travel companion is a resourceful person, and not a bit shy. Locating the boarding gate for my delayed flight is accomplished and at once we go to that zone. Two fellows are already at the gate. Immediately, your companion asks them, “Where are you guys going?” “Amsterdam, Holland” was the reply. My friend said, pointing a finger at you ”So is he. Will you see to it that he and his carry on bag get on the plane; and look after his needs during the flight”?

They warmly agreed to be of assistance in any way they could. Bingo! A predicament is solved. “I’ll see you in Amsterdam, Holland were the de­parting words of your now ex-travel companion, who then scurried off to another gate for an earlier flight to Amsterdam. Now you have two travel companions plus four hours before flight time to get acquainted with them. One of them observes the words WWII Veteran on your cap and inquires, “Where did you serve during the War?” Apparently, your cap is an excellent advertisement. His question is a good base for interaction between you and your new fellow travelers. The three of you immediately became friends. Your new companions, are headed for Ukraine, Russia for the purpose of erecting some farm buildings in that area. They will change planes in Amsterdam. At flight time the three of you board the plane with no concerns. Before long, at 39,000 feet the earth below you looks like a plaything.

On the back of the seat in front of you is a monitor screen. It is displaying some interesting statistics showing the plane (an Air Bus) is flying over the Atlantic Ocean, at an altitude of 39.000 feet. The ground speed is 550 mph.; there is a tail wind of 70 mph and the outside temperature is minus 70 degrees; departure time from Detroit, MI is X number of hours ago and an E.T.A. in Amsterdam Holland is XX hours Amsterdam time.  Curious about the Air Bus now, you ask a flight crew member about the passenger capacity of the plane. She replies, “255 passengers and a crew of 30.” In other words 285 people are zooming through the sky at 550 miles per hour. Scarcely a dream 66 years ago when you were crossing the same ocean at 23 knots an hour. Finally, that little screen in front of you indicates the plane is approaching the coast of Ireland. Before long, you will be in Amsterdam, Holland. As objects on the ground become more distinguishable coupled with the sound of the landing gear rumbling out of the belly of the plane it is apparent that Amsterdam is only minutes away. The clouds are hugging the ground, yet glimpses of the runway meet the eye as the huge Air Bus makes its9 final approach to the Amsterdam Air Terminal.

Wow, here you are, in Holland.   Your two companions assist in carrying your hand luggage off the plane. You bid them farewell and they blend into a crowd of people as they seek their next flight gate.  Success!  There’s your original travel partner coming to welcome you to Holland. Before long, by pre-arrangement, another couple from the state of Washington arrive at Amsterdam on another flight. Now your group is complete. There is a two hour wait for another flight to Luxembourg, a city only a few miles from Belgium. An airline, named City Hopper, flies the four of you to the Luxembourg airport where a car is rented and away you drive to the country of Belgium.

Road signs, along the way, point to towns whose names you became acquainted with 66 years ago. Transportation modes for civilians in 1944 were by two wheeled open aired carts drawn by oxen or horses. In most instances people were fleeing a war zone. Fathers would lead the cart and mothers were walking along side of it; looking after the needs of their children, who were bundled up inside, surrounded by the family’s possessions. A scene that, easily, brought a lump to your throat and tears to your eyes. An infantry soldier usually hiked, by road, or across country. Often his path would be through mine fields, and over open country with artillery missiles exploding overhead and on the ground in every direction. What a contrast compared to Belgium and now.

One thing that hasn’t changed is the Ardennes Forest and the terrain. It reminds you of the Smoky Mountains back home. Yet, in Belgium the Ardennes forest is probably 90 percent fir-trees that are very tall and erect. The first item on our schedule is getting settled at the Bed & Breakfast Home, just a few miles west of St. Vith, Belgium, where reservations were made several months ago. What a delightful reception the proprietors give you. Soon all are located in spacious, comfortable rooms. Then you assemble in the inn’s reception room to become familiar with the area. A schedule had been prepared in advance that will permit all to tour the Battle of the Bulge region of 66 years ago. Several days are left open in case extra time is needed in some sectors.

However, a good nights sleep is necessary to recover from jet lag. Your first night in Belgium, 66 years ago, mother earth was your mattress. Your cover was an inadequate sleeping bag. An unwelcome wet snow added to the misery of the night. That wasn’t an evening a person cares to remember, nevertheless, many years later it is still permanently etched in your memories. In the morning of your first day in Belgium all of you go to St. Vith, a small city six miles from your home base. St., Vith was the Headquarters location for your Division in December 1944. In the center of St. Vith there is a visitor center where a friendly attendant is a great help in outlining points if appeal, in and around the area. On your to do list that morning is to exchange some dollars into Euros which is accomplished at a nearby bank.

Before noon your party, now nine people, is motoring to Malmedy, Belgium; a small village were ninety some American soldiers were massacred by German troops during the B.O.B. A museum there portrays some very authentic scenes of that tragedy.   In an open field nearby a monument verifies the site where the outrageous event came to pass so many years ago. Your Army outfit was only about five miles from Malmedy when that atrocity occurred in 1944. In less than 24 hours most American troops up and down the front lines became aware of that incident. If anything, it certainly solidified your resistance to the massive German offensive against your Division.

It’s now lunch time, consequently, before touring Malmadys’ museum the nine of you break for lunch. Earlier, you observed that restaurants in small Belgian towns are only open for several hours at meal time. After your museum tour all of you visit the massacre site just a short distance away. On the itinerary is a plan to locate your first foxhole in the early days of the B.O.B. While driving to that area, you pass through the small hamlet of Wereth, Belgium. A ceremony is about to be held there for eleven black Soldiers whom the Germans massacred in December 1944. Your party paused long enough to attend the event and take part in the procession to the site of the atrocity.  A lunch was served afterward and all of us were invited to attend. That afternoon you arrive at the site where your Army Outfit was when the B.O.B. commenced. In about 15 minutes you locate your first foxhole.

Floyd standing in his 1944 foxhole

Although the elements of nature partly filled it in you have no trouble recognizing the site and while standing it, you describe the action that happened there 66 years ago to your group.

This region of Belgium and Germany is situated in very hilly country and is named Schnee Eifel, which stands for “Snow Mountain” in German. In the wintertime, it is a popular ski resort. A burst of German gunfire almost terminated your life during the Bulge Campaign, yet you survived the incident. Consequently, you were hospitalized for a while. Just before going back to the front you are in a convalescent   hospital in Dinant, Belgium; a beautiful location on the Meuse River. Dinant is on your itinerary and the next day four of you sojourn to that city. You have fond memories of the hospital in Dinant because the luxury of shaving and bathing every day was yours. That hospital was where you discovered fifty-four holes in your clothing caused by German machine gun fire. That incident and your dream for-wantng of the event is still very vivid in your mind.

The town of Dinant, Belgium is situated at a beautiful location in the Meuse river valley. The day is ideal for lunch at a sidewalk cafe alongside the river. We enjoy viewing the scenic river sights in addition to the sheer cliffs that rise as high as several hundred feet above the town; a sight which you were not able to admire many years ago when you were in the hospital there.  Monday the 27th of September a surprise awaits you at the Burgemeister’s office in St Vith Belgium. He has been made aware of your presence in the area; hence he prepared a presentation concerning St. Vith for for your group to view. You are invited to his office for coffee. That’s all you know. The surprise is a slide presentation regarding the town of St. Vith, Belgium from December 1944 to the year 1958.

December 1944, St Vith, a town of 10,000 inhabitants, became a focal point in the B.O.B. Five major roads led in and out of this community. The German Army desperately needed to seize the town because of those principal thoroughfares. The American Army was determined to stop the German advance right there in St. Vith. When the B.O.B. ended there were only four buildings left standing in the community. St. Vith, once a thriving city, was a pile of war debris when the battle ended. The Burgemeister’s slide presentation pictures the story of rebuilding the city from 1946 to 1958; in a period of twelve of years St. Vith is restored almost like it had been before WWII.

Saturday the 23rd of September three of your party drives to Henri Chapelle Cemetery where almost 8,000 American soldiers, most of whom died in the B.O.B are buried.  A ceremony by Belgian officials, honoring those Soldiers, will take place that morning.     Surprisingly, yon and two additional American WWII Veterans become involved in the program. Although it is done in the German language, you recognize your name as well as those of the two other American WWII veterans when it is read; then the three of you are guided forward to place a huge wreath in a designated place on the cemetery grounds. When the ceremony ends, you visit the grave site where some of your fellow soldiers are buried.

The Burgemeister of Veilsalm, Belgium, a town your outfit liberated in 1945 requested you and your group to visit his office. As your group proceeded to that municipality, you thought this was part of the itinerary. Consequently, as your party entered a Municipal Building there you automatically assumed it was to obtain some brochures about the area. However, all of your group is escorted into a very official looking majestic like office. A gentleman entered the room and introduced himself as the Burgemeister of the town. He then declared that the reason for this rendezvous was for the intent of recognizing a person present in his office to be named as an Honorary Citizen of Vielsalm, Belgim.

As your name is read you are surprised and overwhelmed by this proclamation. The composed words read in part:
Certificate of honorary citizenship.   In recognition of his involvement and his sacrifices for our liberty, the communal College of Vielsalm has awarded the Veteran FLQYD RAGSDALE. G. Company. 424t’ Infanry Regiment. 106 Infantry Division the Honorary Citizenship of the Town of Vielsalm the 26th of September 2010.

After the formalities, refreshments, consisting of beer, wine and cheese are served to everyone present. Indeed, even at eleven of clock on Sunday morning, everyone participated in the festivities. You glance at a wall clock and tell yourself at this hour back home, ” You would be in church.” Although you kept a journal each day that you were in Belgium, at the moment, you are hesitant to elaborate on details about those days, except for one matter.

The cap you wear indicates that you are a WWII veteran. Because many folks in Belgium can read and speak English they acknowledged you as such when they observed those words on your cap. Many days a Belgium citizen shook your hand and said to you, “Thank you for giving our country and freedom back to us. That in its-self made your trip to Belgium in September 2010 worth the effort to go it alone.

The trip home was a good one, yet jet lag was just as much a problem as when you flew to Belgium two weeks before.

 

 

Poem – A Brief History of the Bulge – by Jacob G. Zimmerer

On September 16th, 1944, Hitler had five confederates swear to his last offensive plan through the Ardennes to split the Allied powers.
He promised fifteen hundred tanks, one hundred trains of ammo and a force of 275,000 men to strike in November’s waning hours.
Everyone available from cooks, to U-boat sailors, to band members were to be retrained for this unholy crusade Without its’ success to sue for peace, the Nazi movement of “Gott Dammerrung” would fade.
All new equipment from Albert Speer’s factories build with slave labor would come into
play Finally, these troops were posed to strike on a sixty mile front on December’s 16th day.
With overcast skies the 106th and 28th Infantry Divisions received the starting thrust at the German border.
Allied engineers slowed the German advance by blowing many bridges to stem the initial slaughter.
At a conference in Verdun, General Patton stepped forward with a plan to disrupt their
infantry and tanks,
The 4th Armored, 80th and 26th Infantry Divisions would attack their vulnerable southern
flank.
The German plan was to move on the main highway through Bastogne toward the
Meuse River, splitting General Bradley’s command in the west,
The 101st Airborne stood in its’ way at Bastogne and this held up any chance for
success.
This surrounded town, the key to the German salient, was relieved by the 4th Armored
on Christmas day,
The skies cleared and 3,700 planes, bombers from England and pursuits from France
came into play.
The infantry and artillery followed the tanks while the quartermaster delivered the
needed supplies for an endless fire power display.
The German supply train of depots beyond the Rhine were bombed and the front line
strafing took many lives,
Artillery batteries fired nonstop with a tremendous pounding from 155s and 105s.
On the northern sector Stavelot and St. Vith’s, stubborn resistance hurt their panzers
thrust, plus a critical shortage of gas.
Colonel Peiper’s brutal killing at Malmedy is as an example of frustration after the initial
clash.

The 82nd Airborne having motored to Marche led a steadfast defense causing a German
offensive halt,
Their efforts were hampered by superior power, air attacks and leadership faults.
By mid-January the Bulge was a narrow salient through Hauffalize with the Germans in the jaws of the U.S. Army’s vice,
The remnants of General Von Mantueffel’s panzers were in desperate straits to save their lives.
There is one phase of the battle that U.S. leadership regrets, a stain for life,
For the first time ever American troops were under the orders of Britain’s General
Montgomery for the northern sector’s fight.
The former German colossus was badly beaten and should have surrendered to the
Allies.

Instead the following three months only increased the devastation and agony for
everyone who survived.

This dictatorship was stomped on the aurora of arrogance and superiority acquired
since the time of Fredrick the Great and it did not last.
Finally at the Bulge its’ invincibility on the battlefield came to pass.

Jacob G. Zimmerer 39th Signal Corp. 26th Infantry Division

Read the poem

Edmund Marks-AntwerpX-Secret-Weapon

The longtime Weymouth, MA resident was one of many troops who were hurriedly sent to Belgium’s Ardennes Forest in December 1944 to stop a desperate German desperate offensive. But Marks was among a handful who took a secret weapon – radar.
Now 88, he fought the war as a radar operator with the 126th AAA (anti-aircraft artillery) battalion, one of a few special Army units stationed in England and then Antwerp, Belgium, to shoot down German V-1 rockets.

Edmund Marks

Article by Lane Lambert-Patriot Ledger
Click here for details

 

Switzer brothers meet in the Bulge

Prior to the Battle of the Bulge the last time the two brothers saw each other was in 1943 when Daniel was shipped over seas to England in preparation for the Normandy invasion. Richard was shipped overseas late in 1944. Each knew the unit in which their brother served. In January of 1945, during the Battle of the Bulge the 7th Armored Division, in which Daniel was assigned, arrived in Luxembourg. Daniel recognized the markings on several supply trucks as belonging to the 99th Infantry Division, the division in which Richard was assigned. He asked if Richard, his brother was here and shortly thereafter the two brothers met.

Richard Switzer on left - Daniel Switzer on right

Gerald Pankop Remembers the Bulge

Pankop recounts combat experience at Battle of the Bulge
By Danielle Smith, The Paper-Wabash, IN – June 1, 2011

Gerald Pankop, 85, is one of the lucky men that returned home after spending time in combat at the Battle of the Bulge in Belgium during World War II. After being injured by a mortar, he was honored with the Purple Heart and Bronze Star for his bravery and sacrifice. Pankop voluntarily enlisted at 18 years old in 1944. “They rushed me through training and sent me over to the Battle of the Bulge,” Pankop said. “They needed men because they were losing so many.” Pankop entered the First Army, 99th Division, 393rd Infantry, as a buck private and came out as a private first class. He explained that part of the reason he moved through the ranks so quickly is because they were losing soldiers at such an alarming rate.

“There are 2,000 men in a regiment, we lost about half of our men,” he said. Pankop credits his survival to his short stature. He was offered an opportunity to make sergeant, but that would have required him to move to the front of the platoon. Surprisingly, the officer allowed him to decline the offer, which earned him the right to stay in his safer position in the back. “I was short so I was always in the back, sergeants are up front in danger,” he explained. Short men were placed in the rear of the platoon because they tend to walk more slowly. “That’s probably what saved my life is being in the back all the time.”

During his time in Belgium, Pankop only received three hot meals, two of which were boxed meals. The third was on Christmas Eve. An officer sent Pankop and other men to a church where they were served a full Christmas dinner, complete with steak and mashed potatoes. Following the meal, Pankop complimented the cook. “I said ‘That’s the best meal I’ve had for I don’t know how long’, and the cook said ‘Oh, you like horse meat, huh?,” Pankop recounted. A disbelieving Pankop looked behind the church where he was greeted with the sight of the heads, skin and bones of the horses they had just consumed.

Pankop also recalled seeing a steam-powered truck traveling up a hill in Belgium. The truck had wooden wheels and a boiler in the back to contain the fire that powered it. Pankop and his companions watched as the driver exited the truck and threw more wood on the fire to allow the truck to continue up the hill. “I said ‘Man, we don’t have anything like that back home,” he recalled.

During Pankop’s time in Belgium, they slept in snowdrifts and never had an opportunity to change their clothes. He was there in December during intense combat. He recalled an instance where he and some comrades were standing nearby while some , searched a recently captured German bunker in the ground. “There were seven or eight of us standing outside leaning on our rifles and the Germans threw a big mortar shell in there and it knocked all of us on the ground. I had two phosphorous grenades and it knocked the bottom off of one of them. Phosphorous burns you something terrible, you can’t hardly stop it. I was laying there and I hurt so bad I couldn’t even throw it away and I kept hollering for someone to come get it. Finally one guy did come over and grab it and throw it as hard as he could,” he recounted. “After things quieted down a little bit the medics came up and they only took two us and left the rest of them lay.”

After 30 days in combat, Pankop returned home. “There’s a Henri- Chapelle Cemetery in Belgium that has 9,000 of our troops that got a Purple Heart but didn’t get to come home. I don’t know why but I think of that so often. I guess I just got a little blessing along the way and I got to come home and get married and raise four children,” he said. Much of Pankop’s war memorabilia is on display in the Northfield Jr./Sr. High School’s library.

Malmedy Massacre Survivor Returns to Baugnez, BE

On May 3, 2011, it was a honor for me to meet and help T/5 Warren Schmitt, 285th Field Artillery Observation Battalion B who on December 17, 1944 escaped from the Massacre at Baugnez crossroads. Warren was presented a gift from the Malmedy town council while his family looked on.
Information and photos submitted by Henri Rogister, Associate Member, Liege, Belgium

from left to right: H. Rogister, Warren Schmitt and M. Steffens (owner of the Baugnez’s Museum)

Warren with the gift he received from M. Andre Denis, Mayor of Malmedy

Mrs Warlant (member of council of Malmedy), Warren, and M. Andre Denis, Mayor of Malmedy

Warren Schmitt and his family