Excerpts from “Combat Engineers in WWII”
by Wesley Ross 3rd  Platoon, 146^th Engineer Combat Bn.

About 10 December 1944, as a nervous tag-along member of a six man patrol from a 38^th Cavalry troop–forward of the front and east of Bullingen, Belgium at the German border–we found plenty of German activity across the bottom of a tree-filled canyon. Trees were being cut down with saws and axes, and tanks and other heavy motorized equipment were moving around over straw covered trails, to muffle their sounds. While watching this activity from a concealed position two hundred yards away on the opposite side of the canyon, we listened to the big tank engines for some time and sensed that “something unusual was afoot”.

When information regarding all of this German activity was sent to army headquarters, their response was “this is just a feint to trick us into pulling our troops away from our planned offensive near Schmidt in the Hurtgen Forest”. If it had not been so serious, an almost comical ploy was our leaders attempt to enhance our perceived troop strength in the Ardennes, in order to draw more Germans troops from the front further north at Aachen. They conjured up a non-existent infantry division to further promote the ruse. (Heard, but not verified—WR)

As a result, our high-level commanders were not suspicious when the Germans began bringing in more and more troops prior to the Bulge—this is exactly what our leaders had hoped–and they happily believed that their scheme was working to perfection. There were a few red faces when the axe finally fell! We at the lower levels, were unaware of these machinations, but were kept alert by the persistent rumors that were floating around. On our return trip from our canyon viewpoint, the cavalry used pull-igniters on three Tellermines left by a German patrol that had been chased off the previous night. Several enemy were killed when they tried to reclaim their AT mines.

While I occasionally had patrolled in areas forward of our front lines, I had never patrolled with the audacity of these 38^th Cavalry troopers. They were fearless and not concerned that might bump into German patrols. They probably would have welcomed the opportunity! My 3^rd platoon had laid AT mines along the road shoulders near Bullingen a few weeks earlier, but that was probably done to deter small-scale penetrations. Bullingen was on the route to be taken by Kampgruppe Peiper and where his forces captured a large quantity of our gasoline, before heading west, towards Huy on the Meuse River. On 14 December the 2^nd Infantry Division launched an attack from the Elsenborn Ridge to capture the Roer River dams–to keep the Germans from flooding the Roer River plain and foiling our advance at Aachen. The “Indian Head Division” was making good progress in a flanking action–thus gaining ground that had been denied us in the September to November frontal assaults in the Hurtgen Forest.

V-Corps called off the attack on the second day of the Bulge–to keep our forces from being decimated by the massive enemy infantry and armored forces that were attacking there. The Bulge was considerably more than a feint–it was a giant leap beyond what any of us could have imagined, and it caught everyone by surprise—even those of us at the lower levels, who suspected that “something unusual was afoot”!

On the morning of 16 December, the well-orchestrated German attack in the Ardennes—that they called the “Wacht am Rhein”— was launched. The name was a subterfuge to hide their offensive intentions behind a pretended defense. Hitler suspected a security leak within his Wehrmacht and so he limited disclosures of the attack plans to only his most trusted generals. He was unaware that the British had broken his Enigma Code, even though some of his advisors had suggested that this may have happened. “Impossible” said der Fuehrer!

There were so few radio intercepts concerning the upcoming Ardennes offensive that our top level commanders were caught off guard—even though many of us at lower levels were antsy about all of the enemy activity nearby. In general, the Wehrmacht followed the mandated secrecy orders, but there were enough slip-ups by their air force and civilian transportation units to have given our commanders sufficient insight had they not been so supremely overconfident. The 14 6ECB was bivouacked at Mutzenich Junction, three miles west of the front at Monschau—which was at the northern shoulder of the German build-up. The 38^th Cavalry was also at the northern flank of the Bulge at Monschau and just north of the 3rd Battalion, 395th Regiment, 99th Infantry Division–who managed to hold their ground even though the remainder of the division was badly chewed up, and much of their command was shifted to the 2nd Infantry Division.

For several days this small cavalry force—plus 3rd Platoon, A-Co, 112ECB; A-Co, 146ECB; and their attached 105mm and 155mm artillery—fought off several attacks by vastly superior enemy forces. Several times artillery fire was called in on their own positions to thwart the attacks. Canister rounds—a cannoneer’s shotgun—were used with devastating effect when they were about to be overrun. For their stout defense, all three units were awarded the Presidential Unit Citation–the nation’s highest unit award. According to “Cavalry on the Shoulder”, the 38^th Cavalry was the only cavalry squadron to be so honored in WWII.

The 14 6th Engineer Combat Battalion had received a Presidential Unit Citation for their D-Day demolition mission on Omaha Beach, so an oak leaf cluster was added to A-Co’s PUC. The battlefield success of the 38^th Cavalry Squadron in the Bulge, was due to a number of elements, including a seasoned cadre that had fought from Normandy—but probably the most important factor was their commanding officer–Lt Colonel Robert 0’Brien–a 1936 West Point cavalry graduate. He was a fanatic in his dedication to patrolling the area forward of his lines–to the extent that his Cavalry Squadron eventually came to own that area! Initially, this was not the case but came to pass after several fierce firefights that inflicted heavy casualties on enemy patrols.

This type of aggressive action was repeated often in the Monschau sector, causing enemy patrols to avoid contact and allowing cavalry patrols to make increasingly detailed reconnaissance reports and sketches of enemy positions. More importantly, it left the German commanders ignorant of the details of the cavalry’s defensive positions. The cavalry’s weapons were carefully positioned, so as to provide interlocking grazing fire along all of the likely enemy avenues of approach. They were further tied into obstacles of concertina wire and personnel mines along these likely avenues. Further, extensive use was made of trip flares to provide early warning of enemy approach. Flares were preferred because they prevented friendly casualties in case of mistakes, and they did not give the false sense of security be associated with an extensive minefield.

All of the weapons were dug in, with overhead cover to survive artillery attack, and they were carefully concealed so that an attacking enemy had to literally be on the position to recognize it as a machine gun position. Finally the positions were integrated into the squadron command and control telephone net. A final point on the preparation of the Monschau defense was a typical characteristic of defense common to the United States army—the thorough integration and abundance of artillery support–105mm and 150mm howitzers, augmented by their organic 60mm and 81mm mortars. “The effectiveness of the artillery support was later verified by a German prisoner. He reported that German troops in the Monschau sector were forbidden to leave their bunkers and foxholes during the hours of daylight. They were reduced to observing their sectors through the use of mirrors in order not to attract rapid and deadly artillery fire.

This dedicated defensive preparation was tested at 0545 on the morning of 16 December 1944, when the intense German artillery barrage announced the start of the Battle of the Bulge. On the night of 16/17 December 1944, the 1,500 man parachute force, under Lieutenant Colonel Frederich-August von der Heydte, dropped into the Hohes Venn in “Operation Stosser”. His group had fought several vicious engagements with the 101st Airborne Division in Normandy and again in General Bernard Montgomery’s flawed Market Garden offensive in September 1944–as portrayed in “The Band of Brothers”. The Hohes Venn is a swampy area on the headwaters of the Roer River. In November, three of us tried to cross through this swampy area. With our Jeep flat out in four wheel drive, we traveled about 50 yards, before dropping it down to its axles. We then had to jack it up out of the mud and build a corduroy road to get back on solid ground.

The paratroopers were a day late because of glitches in getting their gasoline delivered and in getting the troops assembled. They were scattered for 25 miles from Malmedy to Eupen because of inexperienced pilots and the minimal advance notice regarding the mission—dictated by Hitler as a security measure. The unsynchronized twin Jumo engines of their planes generated an interesting slow beat-frequency sound. Many parachutes were found after the drop. I rescued an undamaged white one—also a large section from a brown and green camouflaged model. Both appeared to be silk. The camouflaged silk made fine neck scarves and several still reside in my dresser drawer to be worn occasionally, but I finally gave the white one to the Salvation Army, after it had taken up closet space for more than twenty years.

General Dietrich’s 6th Panzer Army—the main German force in the Bulge–included four Panzer Divisions with the latest tanks, weapons and infantry.  It included the 1st SS Panzer Division–Leibstandarte S S Adolph Hitler.  The lightning strike to the Meuse River near Huy, Belgium was to be led by Joachim Peiper leader of Kampfgruppe Peiper, from this division.  They then would move north to Antwerp and enveloping our northern armies, similar to the 1940 French and British defeat there! In the planning, Dietrich’s forces were to have reached the Baroque Michel crossroads—midway between Malmedy and Eupen—on the 16th, which was to have been captured by the paratroopers by then. The 38^th Cavalry’s stand at Monschau blunted that effort, so Dietrich’s forces were directed south toward Elsenborn, Bullingen and Malmedy.

Had Dietrich been able to force his way through Monschau, he very well may have rolled up our front and then captured the large gasoline dumps near Eupen. Had this come to pass, their armies could then have moved almost unimpeded north to Antwerp. Despite all of the negative opinions about the stupidity of launching the Ardennes offensive and taking troops and materiel away from the Russian front, honesty must conclude that with a few fortunate breaks, the Bulge could have been a phenomenal German success and Hitler would then have been trumpeted as a great tactician!

At 1520 hours on 16 Dec, V-Corp’s Colonel Pattillo called Major Willard Baker—our S-3 and ordered 146ECB to furnish a company of engineers to serve as infantry–to be attached to the 38th Cavalry Squadron at Monschau. A-Company was in the line at 1700 that evening, where they furnished support for the outnumbered troopers. At 1525 Hours, Colonel McDonough—the 1121^st Engineer Combat Group commander—called our headquarters and ordered another engineer company to be deployed as infantry.The three B-Company platoons moved into position the next morning and for several days formed a barrier line, a short distance behind the front between Monschau and Elsenborn. Our purpose was to slow the advance of the the Panzer Army, should they penetrate our lines. The 3rd Platoon covered a 1,000 yard front in the snow, until relieved on 23 December.

We set up three 50 caliber machine guns in defensive positions and patrolled between them, but being in a semi-wooded area we had inadequate fields of fire and would have been captured or bypassed by any enemy attack in force! Several men manned daisy-chain roadblocks on nearby roads. These are AT mines roped together, so they can be pulled across the road at the approach of enemy vehicles, but they are not effective unless they are adequately supported by covering fire. Trees had explosives strapped to their trunks in order to drop them and form abatis, at the approach of enemy vehicles. Engineers have only occasional needs for machine guns, but we had both the WWI vintage water cooled .30 caliber Brownings and the newer air cooled version—as well as the .50 caliber Brownings that were normally ring-mounted on our truck cabs for anti-aircraft fire. Our .30 caliber Brownings were light-years behind the vastly superior German MG-42. In the early hours of the parachute drop, one of our water-cooled Brownings fired one round only and then sat there mute–the water in the cooling jacket had frozen, jamming the action!

While on outpost duty, the 3rd Platoon had no clue as to the enemy’s intentions, or what was actually taking place nearby at the front. We were located in a sparsely woody area away from our headquarters, but the wealth of rumors and the actuality of the paratroopers and reports of Skorzeny’s men in American uniforms kept us alert.  Unconfirmed rumors abounded! Anyone moving around was challenged–this included even our easily recognized generals. Lt Leonard Fox—now a C-Company platoon leader–was taken prisoner by a patrol from the 38th Cavalry Squadron. He had not received the password for the day. After six hours, while his legitimacy was being confirmed, he was released. Lt Refert Croon led a patrol of Joe Manning, Marvin Lowery, Warren Hodges and others, looking for the paratroopers. Lowery was killed in an ensuing firefight that killed two Germans and wounded several more–the rest surrendered. Nine paratoopers were killed and about sixty were captured—all by C-Company and HQ-Company—as A-Company and B-Company were deployed elsewhere as infantry. Fred Matthews was captured by the paratroopers, but he managed to escape during another firefight.

The 291^st Engineer Combat Battalion set up roadblocks near Malmedy. Even more important than establishing the roadblocks was their contribution in slowing Kampfgruppe Peiper by blowing a number of bridges and thwarting his intended drive to the Meuse River. Some of the bridges were destroyed just as Peiper’s tanks arrived on the scene. I believe that their stout defense was a major factor in blunting Kampfgruppe Peiper’s drive to the Meuse River at Huy. The 291^st Engineers, along with the 30^th Infantry Division, were bombed three times by our 9th Air Force during their days in Malmedy. Misdirected air strikes were not too unusual an occurrence when mists and clouds mask events on the ground–or when the front is poorly defined. These fatalities were related by Colonel Pergrin–the unhappy commander of a battalion of combat engineers.

Julius Mate–whom I had not seen since before the Bulge-related the following at our annual battalion reunion in 1993: “Early on the morning of 17 December, Sergeant Henri Rioux sent Nettles and another radio man to the battalion headquarters for breakfast. When the radio operators had not returned as expected, Rioux told Mate and James France to go to breakfast and to see what had happened to them. Later we heard that the paratrooper’s planned assembly area was this battalion radio shack, several hundred yards from our bivouac area—located away to keep from drawing artillery fire on our headquarters.” On their way, they saw a parachute with an attached bag hanging in a dead tree. Seeing evidence of the paratroopers was not surprising since they had heard the planes overhead the previous night and our men had seen their green recognition lights. Mate attempted to recover the chute by pulling on the shroud lines, but the rotten tree broke and the trunk fell across his ankle, pinning’him to the “ground.”

“After working free, they continued toward the headquarters and breakfast and then saw Nettles up ahead acting very strange. When they ran up to ask what was happening, six paratroopers with machine pistols stepped out of hiding, took them captive, disarmed them and then threw their M-l Garand rifles into a nearby creek–where they were found later that day by a patrol led by Lt Refert Croon.” “Nettles and Mate were directed to make a double-pole support to carry a paratrooper who had compound fractures of both legs. At the end of the day, Mate’s ankle was swollen and painful, so France and Nettles carried the wounded trooper.” “This small group kept moving during the day and slept under fir boughs at night. After wandering about for two days, they joined the main body of about 150 paratroopers and were then interrogated by a German officer who spoke impeccable English. He had studied at a Texas university and so not only knew the language–but also the American idioms and customs.”

“They were combined with twenty others who had been captured from a laundry unit near Eupen. At night they slept in a tight pile to keep warm, as it was very cold. After a time when the body parts against the ground were growing cold, they all turned at a given signal. They kept up a running conversation to keep telling of the importance of moving toes and fingers to avert frostbite.” “One of the captives, who understood German, heard their captors discussing how they should dispose of the Americans by throwing grenades into their midst while they slept. When a patrol from the 1st Infantry Division engaged the paratroopers, the captives ran up waving their shirts and yelling “Don’t shoot–were Americans”. Early in the Bulge, Earl Buffington—from C-Company–was riding in Blaine Hefner’s truck, as they won the race with a German tank to a crossroad near Malmedy. The tank halted and began firing at them as they scurried away.

Earl’s arm was injured by a low hanging tree limb and he was hospitalized near Spa, Belgium. The limb also brushed off his “Omaha Beach Trophy Helmet” which sported two clean 8mm holes. The bullet had passed from front to back nicking his ear and the side of his head. He was not seriously wounded, so he considered that a good omen and he refused to swap the helmet for a new one.  However, his Trophy Helmet was never recovered. Soon after Earl and several others were dropped off at the field hospital in Spa, he was told that the Germans were about to overrun the area, so Earl and a group “af patients scurried out the back. In a similar fashion Mugg Pawless, Julian Mathies and eight others fled out the back door of a hospital in Malmedy just ahead of the attacking Germans and later ended up at a temporary hospital in the Grand Hotel in Paris.

In November—at Vossenack in the Hurtgen Forest—Mugg was wounded in the heel by an artillery round. After returning from that infantry support mission, the wound was periodically sore and treatment was ineffective, so he was finally sent to an evacuation hospital. When German tanks were heard snorting around nearby, he was moved to another hospital in Malmedy. Before his treatment could be completed, the Germans also cut short that hospital stay. Mugg couldn’t don a shoe on his sore foot, so he put on seven socks, slipped on an overshoe and walked out into the snow with his fellow patients. The next morning they wandered into a gasoline dump near Spa that was being evacuated. Mugg and Julian rode atop gas cans to Rheims where the Red Cross fed them doughnuts and coffee and took them to a hospital where Mugg’s wound was dressed.

He was sent by ambulance to Paris where his wound was cleaned surgically and he was given penicillin. After a short stop in a Cherbourg hospital where his wound was again cleaned and antibiotics administered, Mugg eventually ended up in a hospital in England. When that doctor asked what the x-rays had shown, Mugg stated that no x-rays had been taken. The doctor was surprised and the follow-up x-rays showed a small artillery fragment lodged in his heel—cause of the pain that had plagued him for months.  It was removed and his recovery was uneventful.

987^th FIELD ARTILLERY BATTALION IN WORLD WAR II (From D-Day in Normandy to VE-Day in Czechoslovakia)
by Harlan Lincoln Harner, 987^th FAB

The 987^th Field Artillery Battalion, minus its 155mm self-propelled guns, left Camp Bowie, Texas 17 February, 1944, and five days later arrived at Camp Shanks, New York, where it prepared for shipment overseas.

On 13 March, the 987^th sailed from New York Harbor with several thousand other servicemen and women aboard the converted French luxury liner He de France, bound for an unescorted crossing of the North Atlantic. After outrunning several German U-boats, the He de France, after nine days at sea, arrived at Greenock, Scotland on March 22^nd.

Upon debarking, the battalion traveled by rail to Camp Bulwark at Chepstow in the south of Wales, where it remained just three weeks before being sent to Clacton-on-Sea, Essex, on the North Sea coast of England. At that location, it worked with the British 50^th (Northumbrian) Division, and waterproofed its vehicles, including its M-12 155mm self-propelled guns mounted on Sherman tank chassis that it received on 2 May, all in preparation for the invasion of Normandy, France.

The First Party, 22 officers and 276 enlisted men, the personnel and equipment needed for operations on the “first wave,” moved 30 miles to Camp R7 at Suffolk, just north of Ipswich, for preliminary briefing, then on 29 May to R6 12 miles south of Ipswich, and on June 1 to Felixstowe, where it loaded onto four LSTs (Landing Ship Tank).

On 5 June, the battalion’s advance party sailed from Felixstowe, past the White Cliffs of Dover and into the English Channel. It arrived on the Normandy coast near La Riviere Harbor at 2000 on D-Day, June 6. Rough seas prevented landing at H hour plus 12, as originally planned. There was a night of fireworks as two Luftwaffe planes attempted to attack along the beach, were fired on from ships and forces on the beachhead, and a British battleship and other naval craft fired on enemy shore batteries and other targets inland. At daybreak, about 30 captured German soldiers were brought aboard and were guarded by members of the 987^th prior to their being taken to a prisoner of war camp in England.

The battalion’s first party landed at King Green Beach in the British Gold Beach sector, about 20 miles east of the U.S. Army’s Omaha Beach, in late morning of 7 June, and took up its first combat position three miles inland, one mile south of Ryes, Normandy, attached to the British 50th (Northumbrian) Division. The war had begun for the 987^th. The rest of the battalion came ashore in the next few days.

The next move for the battalion was to the outskirts of Bayeaux where it was assigned to 5^th AGRA (Army Group Royal Artillery), British 2^nd Army. The 987^th supported the British forces in their effort to capture Caen. On 30 June 1944, the 987^th reverted to U.S. Army command and was attached to V Corps, First Army as corps artillery. In short order, temporary assignment to VII Corps sent the 987^th racing up the Cotentin Peninsula to the outskirts of Cherbourg. But when informed it was not needed it quickly returned to the V Corps sector.

The 987^th supported the 2^nd Armored Division in the 27 July breakthrough at St. Lo and its drive southwest to the coast. The battalion then was part of the race east across France in a major effort to close the Falais Gap and surround numerous thousands of German soldiers to prevent their escape. Many thousands were captured, but other thousands were able to flee east toward the Fatherland. Then, it was on to the French capital. On 30 August the battalion entered Paris with the 5^th Armored Division to wild celebration by French citizens dressed in their finest. There were bouquets of flowers and kisses from French madamoiselles. German snipers still in the city fired on the parading troops, but they were quickly flushed out and killed or captured.

Once through Paris, the 987^th moved northward with the 5^th Armored for that division’s September push through Northern France into Belgium and then to the south and east through Luxembourg and into Germany. With the 5^th Armored, the 987^th‘s 155mm self-propelled guns were the first heavy artillery to crack the Siegfried Line. A heavy German counterattack on 19 September forced the battalion, as part of a combat command of 5^th Armored and 28^th Division troops, from Wallendorf back to Cruchten, where they came under heavy enemy fire, and then back into Luxembourg.

Numerous times the 987^th‘s guns performed direct fire on Siegfried Line pillboxes, well-dug-in, thick, reinforced concrete bunkers manned with machine guns and heavy anti-tank weapons. It knocked out eleven pillboxes in its first penetration of the Siegfried Line, and overall, including a later penetration, the 987^th knocked out about 100 of them.

Platoons and even individual guns of the battalion’s batteries were often separated, supporting different divisions. For instance, at one time one gun of B Battery supported the 8^th Division at Hurtgen, while one platoon of A Battery supported the 104^th Division at Eschweiler, another platoon of A Battery supported the 1^st Division south of Heistein, and the remainder of the battalion was at Rotgen in support of the 78^th Division.

When a German counter-offensive struck on 16 December 1944 in the Ardennes, opening what became known as the Battle of the Bulge, the 987^th‘s gun batteries were separated, supporting various units at Hurtgen, Krinkelt and Elsenborn. On 20 December the battalion moved to a position near Ster, Belgium, the first time the battalion had been together since 8 October 1944.

It was at this time that the battalion sighted the first German “buzz bombs,” self-propelled flying bombs, which flew over the battalion’s position west of Malmedy on their way to Liege, Belgium. One buzz bomb’s motor cut out prematurely and it landed and exploded on a road less than 100 yards from a railroad station being used as B Battery headquarters. The explosion blew out the windows and knocked down the ceilings in the depot, but it resulted in only two persons being slightly injured from flying debris.

The 987^th‘s activity in the Bulge found it supporting the 1^st, 2^nd, 9^th, 28^th, 30^th and 104^th Infantry Divisions and the 7^th Armored Division in the drive to take St. Vith. During December 1944, the 987^th‘s guns fired 7,108 rounds in 271 missions, the most rounds of any month in combat, and nearly 800 more than the previous high in June 1944. The Battle of the Bulge didn’t end until January 24, 1945

Early March, 1945 found the 987^th at Remagen on the Rhine River in Germany helping defend the Ludendorf Railroad Bridge to prevent it from being blown up by retreating German forces. On 9 March, one A Battery gun attached to the 9^th Division crossed the Remagen bridge, the only heavy artillery to do so and the first heavy artillery across the Rhine. By 21 March, the entire battalion had crossed the Rhine on pontoon bridges.

It was at Remagen that members of the battalion first saw German jet planes, which attempted to knock out the bridge to deny its use to U.S. troops. One of our 50-caliber machine guns helped shoot down one of the enemy planes. The German pilot who parachuted was captured by B Battery members.

After crossing the Rhine, the 987^th raced across Germany with First Army, then with General Patton’s 3^rd Army. It moved as far East as the vicinity of Leipzig in eastern Germany. At Werben, near Leipzig, the battalion received its heaviest shelling of the war when German 88mm and 128mm guns of the Leipzig anti-aircraft defense ring turned on our big 155s. On 26 April 1945, the battalion’s two liaison pilots flew two reporters to Torgau on the Elbe River to cover the meeting of the Americans with the Russians.

From Leipzig, the battalion turned south, and on 5 May, crossed the border into Czechoslovakia. On the 7^th, B Battery moved with the 16^th Armored Division spearhead to capture Pilsen, home of Pilsner beer and the Skoda Armament Works. It was on the tankers’ radios the next day, the 8^th of May, that B Battery’s men heard the BBC broadcast that the Germans had surrendered, and the war was over. There was no Pilsner beer to be had, but before leaving Pilsen, a number of B Battery men “liberated” a warehouse full of German brandy, backed up a 2 1/2-ton 6X6 truck and loaded up. The battery commandeer made sure the brandy was shared with the rest of the battalion, which was just outside of the city. The last round fired in combat by the 987^th was on May 4^th by C Battery on the town of Stiebenreith, Germany.

From 31 May to 1 July, 1945, the 987^th was on security guard and road patrol at such places as Mies, Heiligen, Hostice and Horazdovic, Czechoslovakia. It guarded numerous prisoners, including 6,000 members of the SS, and during May, the battalion captured 122 enemy soldiers.

For its part in the war that subdued Nazi Germany, the 987 FA Bn was awarded the Normandy Invasion arrowhead and five battle stars for all the European campaigns-Normandy, Northern France, Ardennes, Rhineland and Central Europe. From 6 June 1944 to 31 May 1945, the 987^th in whole or in part, was assigned, attached to, or in support of the following units:

Armies—Second British, First US and Third US Corps-30^th British; III, V, VII and XVIIIAB US Infantry Divisions-British 49^th and 50^th, and US 1^st, 2^nd, 4^th, 8^th, 9^th, 28^th 30^th, 69^th, 78^th, 97^th, 99^th and 104^th. Armored Divisions-US 2^nd, 5^th, 7^th, 9^th, 16^th and British 7^th Airborne Divisions—82^nd Field Artillery Groups-5^th Royal Artillery, US 187^th, 188^th 190^th, 258^th, 351^st, 406^th and 408^th.

The 987^th traveled some 1,850 miles from the Normandy beachhead to Czechoslovakia, fired 45,058 rounds, including 1,517 captured enemy projectiles, had 9 men killed in action and 74 wounded, and captured 256 enemy soldiers. Air Ops flew 306 sorties totaling 580 hours. One of the battalion’s observation planes was shot down by Messerschmidts in France.

Men of the 987^th were awarded one Distinguished Service Cross, 11 Silver Stars, 90 Bronze Stars, 77 Purple Hearts, 16 Air Medals, one Croix de Guerre avec Palms (French), one Distinguished Service Order (British), and one Military Cross (British). Two sergeants were given battlefield commissions.

Though it was heavy artillery, the 987^th‘s mobility resulted in its often being on the front lines with the infantry. One U.S. general in the Hurtgen Forest, who had never seen the M-12 with its big 155mm gun that could fire and move quickly, called it our secret weapon after he observed it in direct fire on enemy fortifications.

The 987^th Field Artillery Battalion was one of numerous individual units in the European Theatre that fought courageously, with little time out of the front lines but got little of the credit they deserved because they were not part of a specific division. But the men of the 987^th were there when they were needed, impressed not only the enemy but also the American units they supported, and they contributed mightily to victory over an enemy that had brutally killed and enslaved millions.

I was born on March 1, 1925 in Pasadena, California and I am now eighty nine years old. I was drafted in to the United States Army in June of 1943 at the age of eighteen. I was a Corporal in the Sound Section of the 288^th Field Artillery Observation Battalion. My job was a Forward Observer and I worked one to three miles in front of my unit. If we were being shelled or I could spot enemy tanks or artillery I would then start the process of getting that information and coordinates back to my unit so they could begin our action against it.

The purpose of my unit was to measure sound and flash and spot the exact location of the enemy’s tanks and artillery. When the location was determined it was phoned to our Artillery Gun Batteries who then fired… If they got a hit our unit got credit for it!

As my unit moved forward from the villages of Condor and Eschdorf in Luxemburg, we stopped at a house that had already been partially hit by shells. The second story had no roof or walls left. We decided to set up a Forward Observation Post there. I was waiting for the telephone crew to run wires upstairs to my phone that I had attached to a 4×4 post. It was snowing and cold, so I started down the stairs, thinking I would wait in the enclosed bottom floor of the house where it was warmer. I was still on the stairs when a German shell came in and exploded on the top floor where I had just been! The impact knocked me all the way down the stairs and after realizing I was still in one piece, I went up to what was left of the second floor and the phone I had put up on the 4×4 post… was blown to pieces! It then hit me, 1 could have been blown to pieces just like the phone! I went down stairs and threw up many times!

Later on the same day, in that same house I heard some weird noises coming from the basement. I went down to investigate and found one of the Army Infantry Sergeants, holding a 45 pistol and crying. I asked if I could help him. He kept saying” I can’t stand this any longer”. I went back upstairs to my First lieutenant, in charge of tagging and sending wounded soldiers back to 1^st Aid Stations and asked him if he could send the guy downstairs to the rear lines to get some help. He said “Hell No! If we send everyone back who doesn’t want to be here, there would be no one left to fight this F—– war!” I returned back down to the Sergeant in the basement and he finally gave me his gun. I have often wondered what became of him!

My most vivid recollections of my World War II Service include seeing my first American GIs shot dead and lying frozen in the snow banks, the horrible sounds of the shells, mortars and screaming meemies hitting the snow and turning it black. My most haunting memory is the feeling of the bitter cold, snow and heavy rain. I suffered permanent damage of my toes from frostbite, lying in the foxholes in the middle of winter, in the Battle of the Bulge.

I am blessed to have a wonderful wife of 66 years, two wonderful children, four beautiful grandchildren and six amazing great grandchildren. I was in the building business for over forty- five years and retired several years ago.   Through all of these years the great men of “A “Battery Sound Section have stayed in my heart, my thoughts, and my prayers. The experiences we shared can never be forgotten!

The Ardennes Offensive began on December 16,1944. The weather was bitter cold, foggy and dreary. All was quiet until Dec. 16 when the Krauts attacked. There was chaos that slowly resolved itself into grim determination, desperation and numbness…you got it. “The Bulge” refers to the progress of the German offensive and to how far they pushed our lines back. Winston Churchill is quoted as saying, “This is undoubtedly the greatest American battle of the war and will, I believe, be regarded as an ever famous American victory.”   Two million men were involved in this the largest land battle the US Army has ever fought.

We were brought down to the St.Vith area. Our missions depended on the targets spotted. We wouldn’t fire non-stop unless necessary. We were limited to the ammunition available to us. Sometimes we’d get a FIRE MISSION at various times day or night. At chow time half of the gun crew would go to the rear to get fed so the rest of us had to carry out the mission. Then, sometimes, by the time we had a chance to be fed, all the food was gone so our dinner was sometimes just a piece of bread and coffee. Or we ate combat rations.

As far as getting any hot food from December 1944 to February 1945 our cooks were able, once in a while, to bring hot food up in insulated Mermite cans. The US Army has a tradition of always trying to get a turkey dinner to the troops on Thanksgiving and Xmas with all the trimmings. Kinda hard to serve it up properly in that cold weather with everything served onto one’s cold mess kit all together with dessert slopped on top. That was special. Night time could be beautiful. The searchlights would go on to create artificial moonlight for our Infantry lads. There would be flares fired and the magnesium flares would light up an area as they came down on little parachutes.. Machine gun tracers from our anti-aircraft guns would make pretty patterns in the sky because every 5th round had the rear hollowed out and packed with a chemical that glowed when fired. All this was to help the gunner zero in on his target. And the sounds that filled the night: Of weapons firing by the Infantry machine guns, mortars going off and other artillery pieces firing. And then the krauts would send over “Checkpoint Charlie” at night. He’d come over, drop a few flares and take, we think, photos, drop a bomb or two, and with his distinctive engine sound disappear back to his own lines. Sounded like the engine needed a tune-up.

One memory I’ve had of this Xmas time was firing a mission and the FDC guys (Fire Direction Center) said, “You guys know that tonight’s Xmas Eve?” That’s how we found out during the winter of ‘44. Since our gun positions were generally in the open or at the edge of trees we were pretty well exposed to the chilling wind. Frostbite casualties were common due to a lack of proper clothing and boots. I wouldn’t know how cold it got without having a thermometer but it was the coldest winter in Europe in 40 years. Records show that temperatures plummeted from 40 degrees down to minus 10 to minus 20 F at night. Brrrr.

Bradley and even Ike felt the war would be over by Dec. 1944 so they had the manufacturing and shipment of winter clothing stopped. Some supplies were in warehouses in France but the rear echelon guys got into those. All we had were leather boots and were supposed to massage each other’s feet to prevent frostbite. The medical Dx was “frozen feet” but in WWI it was called “trench foot”. Not much more than commiseration with my buddies held me together mentally during times of hardship as we were all in it together. Our bedding was just a wool Army blanket each. Yes, just one blanket. In December they issued us a mummy style sleeping bag, which was a blanket with an outer shell and a zipper. Eventually they got wool gloves, a wool scarf, a sweater and galoshes or overshoes to us at the front. It was joked that it was so cold that it would freeze the balls off a brass monkey. Don’t know where that expression came from but it always got a laugh.

After we would get our howitzer into firing position, next we would did a hole for the projectiles and powder charges, and then dig our personal fox holes, then dig a small slit trench, the width of a shovel blade, and thus we could squat and straddle the trench, cover it with some dirt we had dug. TP was slid onto the handle of the shovel, which was jammed into the dirt we had dug out. It was quite an experience to squat in icy cold weather and expose your butt to the cold.

The Belgians generally cleared out as they were fearful of the reprisals from the Germans. Those few who stayed opened their homes to the troops. If we stayed for a few days it would give us a chance to contact a farmer in France, N. Belgium, or Holland for cider, wine, or females. We tried to lure them to our area with promises of food, cigarettes. Not much success. We could not talk with any German for fear of a fine of $65 (a months’ pay for privates). On December 23 the skies finally cleared and all we heard were aircraft engines and saw contrails and there was cheering at the event. Our guys parachuted in ammo, food and medicine to the encircled troops at Bastogne but unfortunately, the Krauts got some of the chutes. After the war a German soldier reported that that he found a canned Hormel ham hanging from a parachute and had dined with a Belgium family that Christmas.

We pushed the Germans back into Germany and the Ardennes Offensive ended the beginning of February 1945. When December weather comes in with its cold and fog, even after 68 years, my thoughts drift to the Bulge experience and I shiver as I remember those Bulge weather days of suffering. We moved eastward quickly and eventually found ourselves below Magdeburg, Germany in support of the 2nd Armored Division and the 83rd ID which both had bridges across and troops on the east side of the Elbe river until we were ordered to hold our positions. This is now April 1945.

We went “scrounging” in Germany but couldn’t go far. Some guys found weapons or other souvenirs. If we found food we feared it might be poisoned. Krauts knew we scrounged for wine and schnapps and would urinate into those bottles. Once in a small town in Germany I went scrounging for a door to put over my foxhole to prevent shrapnel from coming in. The house was untouched with even a beautiful crucifix on the wall and I spotted this grand piano. I was angry at the Germans so, in a fit of adolescent stupidity, I destroyed a good part of the piano with my carbine,so the residents would have something to suffer with. We prepared to move for occupation duties in Giessen, Germany.

We liberated several German concentration camps and witnessed the results of the atrocities. Unfortunately we gave the starving inmates our high calorie rations which caused them distress and even death. This liberating of POW and concentration camps came in our drive to the Elbe River. VE Day came May 8 and the Russians on the east bank of the Elbe River were celebrating. We could hear them yelling and firing into the air with their weapons. Flares were going off and an accordion was playing. I decided to take a lone journey across the pontoon bridge one day and got a ride in a jeep. On the east bank of the Elbe I saw a column of rough looking Mongolian troops, female traffic cops, and their kitchens pulled by horses. I thought, “I sure hope we never have to fight them.”  Ourselves, on the west bank of the Elbe River did no celebrating as we were due to ship out to battle in the Pacific.

In Giessen we guarded first the Polish and then the Russian DPs (Displaced Persons) or manned the checkpoints on the Autobahn. One time we took a trainload of Russian DPs packed into boxcars into the Russian Zone. The four of us had a boxcar to ourselves, which was loaded up with Ten-in-One rations. Our journey was overnight to the edge of Czechoslovakia. We’d distribute the ration boxes to each car at mealtime stops. Our unit was broken up based on an individual’s point system and we were sent to one of the “cigarette camps” near La Havre for weeks of idleness while we waited for transportation home by ship.

Days Not Forgotten December, 1944
Wilbur (Web) Halvorsen
6th Armored Division
50th Armored Infantry Battalion
Company A

[The story in the February’ issue by Benjamin A. Goodin, “Time on Target, ” Les Bois Jacques, Bastogne was of great interest to me.] I had tied in with the l0lst Airborne Division. At that time we were spread out mighty thin. We lost more than half the men in our company, including all of our officers. First Sergeant Remmer was acting company commander. All the men in the outfit were being pushed to the limit. We were cold, tired and hungry. For eight days, our half-track with our sleeping bags couldn’t reach us forcing us to take shelter at night in a snowdrift. If we were lucky, we could find a deep dug German foxhole with logs over the top.

While we held this line I could hear German activity in the wooded area 400 yards out in front. The sound of tank engines turning over increased as the day wore on. We sent the word back and hoped for some TD help, but nothing happened. I made the rounds of the men as they huddled in their slit trenches, encouraging them to move to induce some circulation, or at least to work their feet against the side of the trench to keep them from freezing. Many developed frozen feet. I kept a pair of socks in my helmet liner, and changed whenever I had the opportunity. I saw men with frozen feet. It was terrible. We were told to hold the line at all costs, so we waited it out. Night came. We were exhausted, and tension kept building up, knowing that we could be hit at any moment, surely at daybreak.

At night the Germans sent up flares that turned the darkness to day. Artillery fire was heard off and on. Each time we knew the attack was on, but nothing happened. I was one of the few left of those who disembarked from the LST’s at Utah Beach, so I had some battle experience. Some of the new replacements were only there a few days. I can remember to this moment the look of fear and anxiety in their eyes. A young replacement that I put on guard duty could stand it no longer. Thinking he would be sent to the rear, he shot at the tip of his finger. The rifle blast and velocity took most of three fingers. So it was as we waited it out.

Sergeant Remmer came by with orders for everybody to stay put in their holes. He had heard that something was afoot, and would let me know. It wasn’t long in coming. The sound of artillery firing behind us was something I never will forget. The shells from the 105’s and 155’s kept coming and coming, whistling over our heads. I thought it would never stop and it was like music to our ears. All were on target to the wooded area in front of us. No one could survive the intensity of the blasts. That TOT that Benjamin Goodin wrote about saved the day for us. We were lucky.

Shortly after, a patrol was sent to view the damage. 1 am happy to this day I wasn’t on that patrol. The slaughter was indescribable. It was a massacre, littered with broken bodies and random wreckage. Many bodies were hanging from tree branches. It was utter and absolute devastation. Those still living would have minds shattered beyond repair. Men returning from the patrol were speechless. They were sick; I felt sorry for them.

The following incident happened a few days later. The Germans were still probing for an opening along the entire front. We found ourselves again on line at the edge of a wooded area. The Germans had their tanks lined up opposite us. We could see them, through the trees in the woods across from us. I saw one of our own tanks lined up with them. Sergeant Remmer sent back for firing power but it wasn’t promising, so we just waited. Then something very strange happened. A G1 came running out of the woods from the German side, waving his arms in desperation, telling us that we should get out of there as we didn’t have a chance. He said that he was released by the Germans to warn us to move out or we would be annihilated.

His uniform was a mess. He wore no helmet, and his hair was down in front of his face. He spoke good English, and loud enough for every one to hear. Some of our new men did make steps to the rear before they were halted. It didn’t take long for me to figure it out. After calming him down, I backed him against a tree and started asking him questions for him to admit he was German. I sent him to the rear, but not before a couple of our men ordered him to exchange uniforms with a dead German. He was correct in saying that we were about to be attacked.

It wasn’t long before a Tiger tank came moving slowly across the frozen ground in our direction. We had only our Ml rifles. It was strange that only one tank came forward. But, one or ten were at its mercy. However, the good Lord was with us. From the rear we heard a tank destroyer, crashing through the pine trees, dashing in front of us. It stopped, whirled, and fired at the Tiger. He then pulled back after one shot and repeated the operation down the line. The tank with its heavy armor wasn’t knocked out. It went into reverse and made it back to where it started. The attack was called off. After dark we pulled back to a better defensive position. It didn’t allow us any rest or ease the tension.

The next day we were again on the attack.

The 87th Infantry Division was a relative newcomer to the US Army. Most of the
Officers, commissioned and Non-commisioned, were new to the Army and the soldiers were primarily of young college age as the result of a change in approach on the part of the army in which the participants in a program designed to train engineers for the Engineering Corps were transferred to the Infantry when demand for the latter skill intensified as the result of the German Invasion of France.

The Engineering Training Program was known as the US Army ASTP with many
of the participants underage (less than 18 years of age] for the regular army and
were carried in a reserve category known as the ASTRP. The end result was a
division with a preponderance of very young soldiers with most 18 years of age. The
87th and probably the 106th Divisions were probably the youngest soldiers in the US Army.

Members of the ASTP completed their Basic Training at Fort Benning GA and
then were assigned to the 87t [and the 106th] when the ASTP was discontinued. The
87th left Fort Jackson in mid October 1944 and were received on the Queen
Elizabeth and the H.H. T Pasteur for the trip to England. We arrived at Gourock
Scotland on the Firth of Clyde on 22 act 1944 and were transported via train to the
Biddulph Moor area to regroup and reequip. During the 23-27 November period
the 87th departed for France and eventually combat with the German Invaders. We
had a great month with the people of Biddulph.

During our sojourn in England prior to being shipped to France, D Company-
345 Infantry [my company] was billeted in an old stone velvet mill on the moors
outside of Biddulph. There were no sanitary facilities except for an outside latrine.
At night, everyone kept a #10 can underneath one’s bunk to use for middle of the
night nature calls and it would be emptied in the morning when you went to the
latrine for the AM activities. Some unfeeling scoundrels would use their neighbors
can and occasionally would fill it to the point where the rightful owner would find
it full when the need arose at 100 or 200 AM. Needless to say, the language that ensued could not be described in polite terms as the latrine was a good 100 yards outside and it was overcoat weather.

The velvet mill also lacked shower or bathing arrangements and we were transported to a nearby coal mine to use the shower facilities. About 20 or so of us soldiers would position ourselves under the shower heads and the water would be turned on and off from a central spigot. There were no individual controls. It was strictly a case of wetting down, soaping up and then showering off after a quick washup. It worked!! Any alternative was not in the cards and we managed to keep clean especially for the Saturday Night Dance back in Biddulph that the residents arranged for this young group of soldiers. We appreciated the effort and we hoped that the young ladies also received some gratification.

The bus route from town terminated at a crossroads pub (The Rose & Crown] about a mile cross country from the mill and most of us would get a cone of chips in town prior to boarding and have them with a pint or so of good English beer before commencing the trek on foot back to the mill. We had ample opportunity to restock our bladders with this arrangement. The people were very friendly in the Town of Biddulph and I keep fond memories of my sojourn there. I was especially intrigued by the narrow canal boats that hauled coal to the nearby potteries and pottery back. The canal’s were very narrow. I understand that most of these boats have been converted to tourist use.

We were sorry to leave in late November as the people of Biddulph has been so kind to we young soldiers. A number of us returned following the war for a visit and especially a ride on the converted Canal Boats that became so very popular during the post war period. My Wife Carol and myself took advantage of the opportunity later in the 1970’s when we undertook a driving tour of England and Ireland. Biddulph was just as I had remembered it and the Canal Boat ride was wonderful.

I will always have a fine memory of Happy Days in Biddulph.