What a Difference a Day Makes…..” (Grandmenil)

 This part of my combat experience is tightly interwoven with a song that was very popular at the time. Its title was borrowed to head this segment of our narrative.

I was in the 174th Field Hospital, which was a tent hospital located about 7 miles southwest of Liege. It was there that I first heard the song. Margaret Whiting was doing the vocal. Later on when I was evacuated through the Medavac chain to the U.K, I heard the song done by Vera Lynn.

 I give a full account of its impact on me in my description of what it was like to be wounded; to be piped through the Medavac chain, and hearing the news of the disastrous sinking of the MS Leopoldville in an Appendix at the end of this volume. We marched away from that haunting edifice. However, we kept looking back at it over our shoulders until we saw it no longer.

 We went down the right road of the fork, and soon were under a heavy canopy of overhanging tree branches. We marched for about 100 yards or so before we came upon a road that bisected our road from the right. Ours came to an abrupt end at the juncture of the two roads. The latter looked to be nothing more than a fire lane to me.

 Without hesitation we crossed over this road or lane, and went down a slight embankment, maybe two or three feet, to a semi open space, which happened to be under a rather heavy tree cover. I say semi because we were in, and amongst a strip of trees, both large, and small, that were not tightly packed together. They were spread out thereby providing pieces of flat open ground between the trees for men to dig in. The ground cover was a mix of fresh snow, and Christmas tree branches, and needles… Loads of needles!!!

 There is a modern day saying that if anything can go wrong, it will go wrong! Well, on the afternoon of the 26th December, the company peeked into Hell, and came away scorched! Here is how it happened.

 1st Lieutenant Markowitz went into the grove first. He took up a position near a clearing that looked out upon the valley in Which Grandmenil and La Fosse were located. A mountain spine across the valley ran parallel to the one on our side. A two lane, all weather road ran along the valley floor connecting the two villages. I judged it to be, at the time, about 25 to 30 yards in front of where we were to take our defensive positions.

 Markowitz put his back to the scene and facing us as we cambered down the small slope, barked, and waved his arms for one, and all the “Keep moving down to your right… all the way until we tell you stop”! “Keep moving! Keep Moo-ving!! ”

 We weren’t moving down to the right to suit the XO. We were beginning to bunch-up which was an absolute no-no. On seeing this, he began to yell and curse, and to question people’s ancestry. “What in hell is the matter with you men? Can’t you follow a simple order to keep moving? What do I have to do? Go down to the head of the column, and lead you like sheep?? Get the lead out of your asses and from between your ears and move, damn it!!!! MOVE!!!”

I wasn’t to far from him, in fact he might have been 10 feet in front, and slightly to my left. He was a short man, stocky built with a round face, reddened by a rise in temper. He sent someone; I think it was Hammonds, to go down the line to our right and to get the men in the line to move further on. Dispatching whomever may have saved that man from what followed! A clarification is in order at this point.

The Combat “A” plan called for us to link up with the companies on either side of us. In this case, mistaken, and or otherwise, the company on our right, as we faced toward the Grandmenil – La Fosse valley, happened to be “H” Company. This “crossover” between “H” and “F”, was part of the Clough legacy of confusion!

 By trying to maneuver to tie up with “H” Company, we pinched off Company “G”. In addition, failing to link up as we did, with “H” Company, we left two gaps in the 2nd Battalion’s Defense Line, i.e., one between Croix St Jehenne and Masta which was our real assigned area, and a 500 yard gap between “F” and “H” Companies, in the vicinity of Sur Charmont (see map for G1 and G2).

 The Germans were quick to see this debacle. Taking advantage of our mistakes in field maneuvers, they infiltrated a very substantial force through the gaps. This force later took up a strong defensive position in the Croix St Jehenne – Masta sector. Our assault on their defensive position will be described in another section of the chronology.

Markowitz waited for a minute or two before launching into another tirade. This time he was unstoppable. Every curse invented by man came out of him! Finally, in exasperation he fell quiet and began to make small conversation with the men near him. It was during this quiet moment that hell suddenly bounded onto the scene, uninvited. As Markowitz was gabbing with us, a shell whistled over our heads, and landed on the other side of the Grandmenil – La Fosse road. Its impact was judged to be about 100 yards from us.

 Markowitz blurred out, “What the hell is going on?” he said as he and the rest of us, straightened up! Before any of us could say a thing, a second shell came in and exploded between the roadway and our tree covered area about 50 yards from where we stood. Needless to say we ducked and or squatted down, taking some comfort that a small of bushes that could have passed for a miniature hedge row was shielding us from the blast of the artillery shell. This movement on our part was in response to a natural instinct and out of fear.

 “Hey! That was close!! Let’s get the hell out of here, NOW!!” roared the XO. We quickly wheeled about and started to move back towards the slope and the fire lane that served as the back border of the area that was to be our defense line.

 Two things must be said at this juncture of this narrative. The first is about the background of our officers. Only two were trained infantry officers: Captain Tingley and 2nd Lieutenant Olsen. XO Markowitz was a trained Artillery Officer. 1st Lieutenant Thompson was trained as an Air Force Anti-Aircraft Officer and Anti-Aircraft Officer. 2nd Lieutenant Monore was a heavy Weapons Officer.

It was because of his background that Marckowitz reacted so quickly. He recognized the straddling technique viz a viz those two shots. The second thing that must be kept in mind as one reads this portion of the chronology is that a good part of the company was still bunched up in the area running from the base of the slope down to where Markowitz stood. Reason: we were all waiting for the rest of the company to continue to move down further, connect with “H” Company and thereby make room for the rest of us. In the area just alluded to where all the men of the 2nd and 3rd Platoons who were somewhat mixed up because of the bunching. We were packed for the slaughter that was about to enfold us!

 Had the movement “to the right” continued unabated, it would have allowed the third and second Platoons and elements of the first and fourth to get in line; to thin out and just maybe reduce the impact of what was to suddenly befall us. It would also have closed one gap in our line and again just maybe (there’s that word again), reduced the number of casualties we suffered in closing the second gap in the day that followed this mournful day.

 With Markowitz’s yelling for us “to move back, lets get the hell out of here, go back, go back”, we turned and all at once began crashing into one another, so closely packed were we in that tight rectangular area. Then as we began to spread out and move towards the fire lane in back of us, the third shell whistled in! It hit amongst us!!! Instinct and fear made us react to each incoming shell. We hit the ground, sometime hard, and tried to burrow into that frozen ground. We didn’t care if we landed on our equipment, on one another, or what. The main thing was to get down! A number of times I thought that we went down before each shell hit.

 Almost immediately after the third shell struck, I heard someone cry for his mother……”Mommy, Mommy!” I heard someone else yell … “Oh, God, I’m hit!!!” Another… “Help me! I can’t move!” Screams, running feet and hard breathing were all around me. So was mass confusion.

The fourth shell landed right behind me as I was getting ready to “hit the dirt”! It lifted my legs into the air and the force of its explosion drove my head first into a pile of snow and fallen Christmas tree needles. Moments after the shell exploded I got to my feet. I didn’t wait around to examine myself to see if I had been hit or was bleeding. The shock of what was going on along with the will to survive must have numbed all my thinking. I was moving on adrenalin and instinct.

Keeping my head down but my eyes on the slope leading up to the fire lane, I drove myself to run as fast as I could in spite of the conflict that had suddenly arose in me: freeze and stay down versus get up, and run!!!

 T/Sgt Tierney, 3rd Platoon Sergeant was next to me on my left. Cpl Joe Gil, BAR Ammo Bearer was in my right. Tierney was beside me through the short savage shelling until it ended. Sometimes we were so close that we were looking into each others eyes. Sometimes we were so close that on one occasion I literally felled down right on his extended arm, and rifle.

 The fifth shell came whistling in! It felt dam close! I taught that it was going to go down the back of my neck, i.e., between me and the scarf that I had draped around it. It went off in back of me and to my right. I was stung with flying needles, bits of dirt, ice and rock. The blast threw Gil, or should I say pushed Gil partly on top of me.

 Now, none thing has to be said about comradeship, love your buddy, etc. All the time that we were in non combat status, every man in the company, with exception of the officers, drew closer together, willingly shared what they had with one another and looked out for and stood up for each other.

 Gil and I were close buddies practically from the day that I joined the company in August of 1944. We got along great! We got along great! However, in this fiery kettle, it was every man for himself! So, I pushed him off me as if he were a bag of horseshit, got up and ran for my life!

 Men were yelling and screaming when the sixth and last shell hit in front of me. I felt as if someone had hit the middle of my helmet with a hammer. The pain resulting from that sound and the shell’s concussion went through me, from the top of my head, and down to my toes. I shook and or vibrated all over. For the moment I felt as if I were flour being shaken through a shieve.

 The screaming and yelling had stopped. There were just moans mixed with the sweep of a sudden wind through the trees.

 I got up dizzy and staggered up the slope onto the fire lane. Some guys were with me on my right. Tierney was not with me! I didn’t wait to find out what had happened. I started to walk, then trot; then run. I must have put 100 yards between me and that hell of piece of land that we had originally planned to defend. Suddenly, I heard Markowitz’s voice yelling way in back of us to “Come back! Your buddies need you! Come back”!

 It didn’t take long to get back to that horrific scene. The first thing that I encountered was Tierney sitting on the left side of the road just before it intersected with the fire lane. His legs were outstretched in a V before him. He was not wearing his helmet and he didn’t have his rifle. His face was a mass of sweat. He was looking up the road from whence we had returned. He kept saying over and over “Those Sons of Bitches! Those Sons of Bitches”!!! I walked up to him and placed my left hand on his shoulder to give him some comfort. It was then that I saw what had happened to him. His left eye was partially out of its socket and resting just below it on his cheek. I squeezed his shoulder and someone behind me said “Don’t let him move! Help is on the way”! Just then a Medic came up and began cutting the left sleeve of his Combat Jacket. I kept my hand on his shoulder while the Medic cut the hole and administered a morphine shot. I left Tierney soon after that.

 The next sight that I saw was of Lieutenant Olsen of the 2nd Platoon. He was standing in the middle of the same road in a Napoleon pose. His helmet was sitting on the back of his head and his face was bathing in sweat. He was looking up at the surrounding tree line. There was a blotch of blood just where his hand was sticking in his blouse under his combat jacket. I walked up to him asked him “If I could help him”. He lowered his eyes only to say “No! I’m OK. Look after the others”!

 I turned from him and it was then that I saw S/Sgt Al Leight, 3rd Squad Leader, 3rd Platoon. He was seated, his back resting against a tree. There were men, some of them Medics, kneeling down around him to work on him and the others that were on stretchers grouped around him.

“God! Where did all this help come from all of a sudden”?

 Al had no helmet or any other equipment on him. Like the others, his face was covered in sweat. Unlike Tierney and Olsen, he was aware of what was going on around him. What caught my eye was the cigarette he had in his mouth. It was sort of stuck to his lower lip. It was hanging nearly straight down from his mouth which was opened at the time. The cigarette was not lit.

 As I looked at him, I taught that I noticed that he was missing one boot. I later found out that both of his legs below the knees had been nearly cut through by a direct hit. His legs were hanging by sections of torn muscle.

 Then I saw two sites that almost caused me to heave my guts! Two buddies of mine who were very close to me were being set down just beyond Al Leight. One was in very bad shape. The other from what I saw at the moment appeared to be dead.

 I walked over to where these two men were. The first was sitting up crouched over with both of his hands around his belly. His mouth was open with his lips drawn back revealing a lot of his teeth. His hair was down over his forehead and all wet from sweat. Steam was rising from him like the rest that were around him. Blood was oozing out from between his fingers. His eyes were popping out of his head and he was moaning…. “Ohooo! Ohoooo! …..Ohoooo! As I bent down to drape a discarded jacket around his hands! An artillery shell had disemboweled him. He was Tom Darlington, Pfc, Assistant Barman, 1st Squad, 3rd Platoon.

 He was one of the men that used to go into Pembrey, Wales, with Simoleon, Duffy, Jones and myself to drink limey beer and go back to camp singing while walking down the streets of the town during the blackout, arm in arm. He was one hell of a great guy!

 A Medic shouted for me to leave him alone and get the hell away from him. So I got up and turned to look at the other man that was lying on a GI blanket near Tom.

 He was without a head!!! I wasn’t quite sure who he was just then. At that moment I was beginning to taste my stomach as I had to choke down what was coming up!

 Just then a man came over and threw a tent half over him. He was followed by a Medic who was carrying his torn head which was partly wedged in his helmet. They discovered it stuck between a tree trunk and some branches. The helmet had been knocking out of shape.

The Medic put the man’s head down where it would normally be. It rolled out from under the shelter half and it was then that I recognized who he was. It was Bob Duffy: Pfc, Rifle Grenadier, 2nd Squad, 3rd Platoon.

 Duff and I had trained at Camp “Lousy Howzie”, Texas. We had gone on a three day pass to Dallas. We saw the city, drank beer, and got laid. We were inseparable! Back in camp if one was on KP, the got the same detail. I felt very empty at this point. It wasn’t a good feeling for me to have, in lieu of what happened next.

 It was just as I started to cast my glance elsewhere that a group of men came up carrying a man who was moaning, choking, and crying pitifully. It was Pfc Calvin Cummings, Barman for the 2nd Squad of the 3rd Platoon. They asked me to give them a hand with carrying Calvin.

 I quickly grabbed Calvin’s left arm and head which was pointing down towards the ground between the men that were carrying him. The guys that were lugging Calvin were all from the company. Unfortunately, I don’t remember who they were.

We laid Calvin down near where Leight was. I still had his head cradled in my right arm when we put him down. His glasses which he always wore were gone. He was bleeding from everywhere, his mouth, his nose, his chest, down the sleeve of his right arm. He was choking on his own blood! He turned his eyes to me and lifted his left arm and closing his hand into a fist, tapped me twice on my chest and then his eyes glazed over and his head jerked to the right, and he was gone!!!

 Calvin was a man from Missouri. I first met Calvin while at Fort George G. Meade, Maryland. We went through advance Infantry Training at Camp Howzie, Texas. He and I were amongst a dozen men who were placed in “F” Company when we came up from Texas to fill the gaps made by the mass transfer of men out of the 75th Division and the Company. We went over on the Franconia. We bunked together in the huts in the Harbor Camp outside of Prembrey in Wales of the U.K. We sailed on the Ill fated Leopoldville to France. We were “sardined” on the 40 an’ 8s to the combat zone in Belgium. Now, this! An end which neither of us taught would ever happen!

I had gone through a lot in the last hour: haunted with the fear of being shot in the back by a sniper hiding in the mansion; apprehensive over what was going to happen now that we were forming up to first hold and then to attack; the rain of artillery shells; the dash for life; the encounter with some of our wounded and now the death of two good friends.

 I lost control of the tight rein that I had on my emotions up to this time. I gently laid Calvin’s head down on a part of the GI blanket that was used to carry him up from the “Death Pit”. While on my knees beside his still form, I began to whimper, and then to cry. Someone put a hand on me, and told me to get up! “There isn’t anything more that you can do for him”. It was then that two men threw a black canvas like covering over Calvin.

 Trucks backed down to where the “quick and the dead”, the wounded and the dying were laid out along the side of the road. I took one more look at what was once a strong and vibrant man now tucked under a canvas. His left arm stuck out ending in a fist!

 As I type these words now some 57 years after this nightmare, I can still see Tierney, Leight, Darlington, Duffy in the throes of their suffering and or in the clutches of death. However, the memory that sticks with me the most is that arm sticking out from under the black canvas and the fist which knock a goodbye on my chest.

 They stacked the dead on the back of trucks like a core of wood. The wounded they loaded onto the hood of jeeps; into “meat wagons” and the back of Command Cars.

 The slaughter, the gathering of the dead, the wounded, the carting of them away was over in a matter of minutes! It was unreal! Those of us who were in on piece stood staring at all this as if we had not been a part of what had happened! It seemed to us as if we had been forgotten! No one was telling us to come here or go there!

 Then just as a numbness was setting in, someone barked an order for the no wounded, the able-bodied and those who were too stupid not to been hit, to go back down into the area where death and destruction had reined supreme for a while, and form up for roll call. They wanted to know who was and who wasn’t!

 In Memoriam

Before going on with the chronology on our combat time, I wish to say something about our fallen comrades. Those fine men, who were killed or wounded by artillery fire one day after Christmas in 1944, had yet to fire a shot in anger with the exception of S/Sgt Leight. They didn’t get a chance to find out what they were made of; mice or men; brave men or cowards.

They were for the most part some of the best that the Company had to offer. Many of them were held in high regard; were well liked by their fellows and would certainly have been selected for a leadership role when the time came.

They were cut down to soon, far too soon!

It would be a terrible sham; a stain on my personal honesty, and a disgrace therefore, if I didn’t set aside a special place in the history of “F” Company to remember them.

 “F” Company went into combat with 157 officers, and men. They had 6 Officers, 37 NCOs, 4 Technical grades and 103 Infantrymen. On that day that hell fell on them Captain Tingley and the men attached to his office, 12 men to be exact were not with the Company. They were engaged in important supportive duties such as serving as cooks, drivers, etc.

 The Company suffered 23 causalities on the afternoon of the 26th: 7 deaths and 16 wounded. Percentage wise, the causality load breaks down as follows:

Officers; 2 of 6 or 33%
NCOs: 7 of 37 or 19%
Ems: 16 or 103 or 15.5%

 Causality percentage for the Company: 23 of 145 or 16% (approx)

 When “F” Company followed 1st Lieutenant Markowitz down into the covered area to set up a defense perimeter, it did it out of the standing marching order, i.e., the 1st followed by the 2nd, etc. For some reason that I have not been able to fathom since I began writing this historical chronology some 13 years ago, the basis for the out of sequence order taken that day has escaped me. On that faithful day, the 4th Platoon followed by the 1st, then the 3rd and then the 2nd, trailed Markowitz down into that dark hole. The resultant: the 3rd suffered the most causalities.

 Here is the breakdown by platoons including the nature of the wounds and or the causes of the deaths. Data is presented in the platoon order used on that day.

4th Platoon:
2nd Lieutenant LaMar R. Monroe, neck wound.
S/Sgt Frederick O. Anderson, death from a head hit.
Pfc Daniel M. Fergus, leg wound.

1st Platoon:
S/Sgt Lyle A. Francomb, lower abdominal wound.
Pfc Jessey H. Allison, death from a chest wound.
Pfc James P. Haddad, death from a chest wound.
Pfc William C. Penn, stomach wound.

3rd Platoon:
T/Sgt Bernard J. Tierney, wound to the left eye.
S/Sgt Alfred C. Leight, severed legs below the knees.
S/Sgt Ellis L. Van Atta, wounds to head and neck.
Sgt Charles R. Clashman, death from multiple wounds to the head.
Pfc Clavin F. Cummings, death from multiple chest wounds.
Pfc Robert L. Duffy, death from severed head.
Pfc Herschell W. Sisson, death by concussion.
Pfc Donald Pruitt, wound to left arm.
Pfc John W. Officer, wounds to chest and legs.
Pfc Thomas V. Darlington, severe wounds to abdominal area.
Pvt Max Martell, wounds to both hands.
Pvt Dennis Profitt, multiple wounds to back and legs.
Pvt William Mc Crady, wound to right arm.

 2nd Platoon:
2nd Lietenant Kenneth Olsen, hand wound.
Cpl Curtis Smith, death from back and head wounds.
Pfc Lawrence W. Barnes, wound to face.

Source of “Friendly Fire” (Based on data supplied by Al Roxburgh)

According to the After Action Reports for the 25th to the 28th of December 1944, the 87th Chemical Mortar Battalion was supporting the 289th and the 290th Regiments of the 75th Infantry Division.

 Section 275 of subject report states that on 25 December 1944, a Chemical Mortar Company, Company “B”, which was attached to the Combat Command “A”, 3rd Armored Division, as was the 289th, was further attached to the 289th. As a consequence, after reconnaissance, it setup its mortar positions in the vicinity of SADZOT at 1515 Hours.

 By reference to the US ARMY HANDBOOK 1939-1945 as written by George Forty, Chemical Mortar Battalions were armed with 4.2 inch mortars capable of firing toxic chemical, smoke bombs and high explosive shell (HEs). These battalions served as the infantry commanders “hip pocket artillery”, capable of placing accurate and heavy fire on target up to the 5000 yard range. The Handbook contains a photo of the mortar and its crew.

 On the 26th of December, “F” Company of the 2nd Battalion, 289th Infantry, began to take up an assigned defensive position between Grandmenil and La Fosse. This position was parallel to the road connecting these two villages. Map below identifies this location as being near latitude 89 and between longitudinal line 55/73 and 55/74 on the map. The location was roughly 3 miles from the center of SADZOT. The center of this village is marked with a red dot on said same map. The number 6 on the map marks the approximate area where “F” Company was assembled. FL IDs the fire lane.

 Chemical Mortar Company “B” set up its mortar line on the outskirt of the village. (Their mortar line has been identified as MP on the map. Triangular lines, using the scale, below the map, show that “F” Company was within the mortar company’s firing range.

 The After Action Report for the 26th of December states in the second paragraph: “Company “B”, in operations with the 289th Infantry, 75th Division, fired 146 rounds of HE ….. unobserved fire on suspected enemy troop(s) assembly area in support of an attack by 2nd Bn, 289th Infantry in the direction of Grandmenil.

 Six (6) of those shell landed on the assembled “F” Company who were filing down into and under a strand of trees to take up a defensive position at the time.

Source:  http://www.battleofthebulgememories.be/

A World War II Diary –Battle of the Bulge

As you read this diary, much is written in the present tense; that is, as I wrote it during 1943 – 1945. Occasionally, you will find notations that I make in 1988 as I transcribed the diary in preparation for printing. December 16, 1944 – January 25, 1945

December 16, 1944: We have heard that the Germans have just begun some heavy action. We are told to get packed and get ready to move out on a minute’s notice. Our radio, which has been silent for over two months, becomes heavy with messages. The messages were trying to determine where the main thrust of the German attack was. Finally on December 20th we were told to move out. We picked up our tracks in a hurry. We were told over our radio that the Germans were shooting the works. Intelligence informed us that it was all or nothing. The Germans planned to take NO prisoners — it was killing or be killed. So, we were forewarned.

As we left Breinig and headed westward in retreat, it was a nightmare of muddy roads, bitter cold and heavy fog which limited visibility so that Carl Kieffer needed Tex and me to help him along the road. On many occasions we had to stop until vehicles in front of us were either winched back onto the road or, if mired too deep, they were left for the following maintenance crews to handle.

Tex and I being on the radio were hearing things we weren’t pleased to hear. Adding to the fog and pitch black night, hundreds of German buzz bombs were being sent our way. Several crashed nearby. We later heard from Captain Woods that one missed General Roses’s jeep by 100 yards and knocked his driver out of his vehicle.

There was an icy, paralyzing mist over the entire battle front, a cloud of fine driving snow that glazed the roads to slippery ribbons and many tanks, trucks, and half-tracks skidded off the roads. Snowdrifts covered extensive fields of anti-tank mines and hard frozen ground made digging foxholes a nightmare. The Ardennes look like a Christmas card, but it is agony all the way.

We have just learned about Company G being surrounded by Germans. After using up all their fuel and ammunition, General Rose ordered them to destroy their vehicles and, on Christmas night were advised to infiltrate back to friendly lines as best they could. 

NOTE: This action was later called “Hogan’s 400” and is in war movies today.

My diary here was written in January once we got a breather and the German attack finally was coming to a screeching halt. The diary says: When we left Breinig on December 20th, we retreated westward to Theux, Belgium. Here we bivouacked, using a textile mill wall as a windbreak. What a change. After being used to a warm bed indoors, here we are freezing as we try to get a little shuteye. There is so much fog we really don’t know what’s happening. Tex and I take turns manning the radio. Early next morning we take off, still foggy, cold and unsettled. We entered Spa, Belgium, and stayed in the “Casino de Spa”, a very ritzy place, which used to be one of the favorite gambling resorts in Europe.

I will never forget this place. Here we are, a war going on all around us, one big state of confusion and it’s Christmas Eve. The morale was a little low and someone found a whole truck load of champagne. Our Mess Sergeant, John Barclay, was preparing a nice turkey dinner. He started this about midnight, Christmas Eve.

By 2:00 a.m. we got orders to move out. The Germans were attacking. Unfortunately, most of the guys had been drinking champagne all night and weren’t in a position to perform their duties. Our Company Commander, Captain Paul Woods, was in a dilemma. How can I move all these vehicles when no one is in a position to drive? He asked us to radio Headquarters and explain the situation. We were given two hours to shape up. About 4:00 a.m. we were all ready to leave. Our mess sergeant had put the partially roasted turkeys in the truck. We got a message to unload. We did. The mess sergeant got the field kitchen going again. An hour later we were told to load again. Finally, by 8:00 a.m. we were told that we were safe; the German’s were knocked out by a company of our tanks.

We managed to enjoy our Christmas turkey. We left Spa about 3:00 p.m., December 25th. This day was the first clear day since the German’s started their attack. Our planes, for the first time, had an opportunity to fly their sorties. It was cold and crisp (about 10 degrees) and bombers left their vapor trails. Fighter planes all around us. Somehow, I felt the spirit of Christmas. Somehow, I felt this to be a beautiful day. Being so far away from home and under these unusual circumstances I had the Christmas Spirit.

About 6:00 p.m. Christmas evening we entered Louveigné, Belgium. (We came through this town in September.) We parked our half-track near the side of a Belgian house and immediately a man and woman invited us into their home for the evening. They not only wanted to show us their appreciation, but knew with us around they had protection. So here we spent Christmas night. They gave us supper consisting of bean soup and steak. (They went all out.) Steak was hard to come by. They wanted us to know they were treating us as if we were royalty.

The radio reports began to sound encouraging and we were now getting the upper hand of the Von Rundstedt counterattack. After supper we spent some time talking with this Belgian couple and later that evening they offered us a shot or two of Cognac. My, what treatment!

I had to stand guard at midnight. The night was clear, crisp, and beautiful. As I stood guard and looked at the moon, my thoughts were on home and wondering how my folks were spending Christmas. With the picture card setting I described earlier, I still was in the Christmas Spirit.

December 26, 1944: We left this Belgian family about noon, and traveled twenty miles farther south to a little town called Tohogne. Here again as we parked the half-track along side a house, we were invited to stay inside by another Belgian family. This family consisted of an elderly lady, and her son, who was an artist, and also a member of the Belgian underground. I will never forget this family. This little old 75-year old woman walked around the house constantly fingering her rosary beads. She was deathly afraid of the constant booming sounds of the nearby artillery guns. She and her 40-year old son (Lucien Dumont) couldn’t do enough for us. The lady was afraid the Germans would pick up her son. He had a radio transmitter in the attic and was tuned into Paris and London.

NOTE: To my children. It was this stop that I saw and admired the picture that Lucien had painted. He gave it to me and I eventually mailed it to Lale. It has been in our living room at Pinney Drive and here at the farm. It’s the picture of the water wheel and the line of trees. He signed this picture with the following comment: “Bien Amicalement a la fiancée Le William. Mai Eulalia. Avec mon meilleur bonjour mon eternelle reconnaissance.” Translated this means: The good friendship I have made with Eulaila’s fiancée. With my many good remembrances, I will be eternally grateful.

December 29, 1944: We left Tohogne about 1:30 p.m. We headed northeast for about twelve miles to a village called Bois et Borsu. Here we stayed at a farmhouse which showed no signs of the war nor did this seemingly well to do family seem to be war weary. They were not as congenial as other Belgians. Their name was Genon. We spent the New Year Holidays here. There is a nice little church here and I attended and heard my first High Mass in many a day.

January 4, 1945: We left Bois et Borsu and went back to Tohogne. I believe our Captain Woods felt this town wasn’t as friendly, that’s why we left. We didn’t stay at the same place but today paid the elderly lady and son Lucien a visit.

NOTE: I have all the letters I wrote to Lale. Maybe I should say she has them and is allowing me to use them to add to this story. The letters up to this date have very little information relative to the war because our mail was censored and we couldn’t say anything for fear it would fall into enemy hands. The contents of these letters consisted mainly of talking about our families and friends. A letter I wrote Lale on January 13, 1945, contains some information that I believe is noteworthy to record.

I quote a paragraph: “My latest news from home hasn’t been too encouraging. John getting ready to ship out; Bob being called into the service; my kid brother Paul about ready to enlist. It’s really unbelievable, but I guess we have to face reality. I know the Good Lord will watch over my brothers as He has done with me. I have the faith He will watch over us in the future.”The letter continues: “Dad’s new idea of V-mails is really working good. I received letters he wrote every day in December and he is keeping his promise and writing daily. (Even though Dad writes them daily, I get them in bunches.) Sure is a faithful dad, isn’t he?”

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Before I left for overseas, Dad and I figured out a code that would tell him where I was and any other brief message I wanted to relay. The code was this. I would spell out my message by using the first capital letter in a sentence. Then my second sentence, the first capital letter would be the second letter of my message. The first capital letter in the third sentence would be the third letter of my message and so on. Our code worked very effectively.

January 16, 1945:We left Tohogne and traveled about 15 miles to a little settlement called Grand-Trixhe. Here we are staying for a few days and expect to pull out tomorrow. Here we made friends with a lady and her daughter, who published a magazine. The lady’s hobby was spinning wool. It was very interesting to watch her. Took a picture of her spinning. They were a jovial pair. The group and I played Rummy and Casino with them. The elderly lady was quite a joker. She had a little dog called Fifi. Fifi was a playful little mutt. We witnessed some of the coldest weather yet. The scenery is beautiful. The radio reports the Russians are making a big push at present.

January 17, 1945: We left Grand-Trixhe and headed back to Bois et Borsu. I asked the Captain why these last several days we kept going back to previous locations. He said “This is the bitter battle for billets in the Belgian Bulge.” Then with a smile he said, “George Herman, there are spies around and we must continually move so the German’s can’t get a fix on our supplies with their artillery.” This got me to thinking. As Tex and I manned the radio, we knew of the Hogan 400 retreat. We were well aware of the Malmedy Massacre, where the Germans shot a complete company as they were being taken as prisoners. And to think I could have been assigned to this company (Reconnaissance Company). We were aware the 33rd Armored Regiment had been operating in the hottest sectors of the Ardennes offensive (Battle of the Bulge). We were assigned to the most important routes of advance in the early stages of Von Rundstedt’s drive. And as the reports trickle in, the 3rd Armored was doing a full part to pinch off and eliminate this salient. Men of the “Spearhead”, the real victors of this campaign, were coming out of a triumphant campaign, were coming out of action with weariness steeped in their bones and pain in their quiet eyes. We felt an abiding hate for the enemy.Well, here we are again at Bois et Borsu. The three little Genon kids were glad to see us again. We stayed at a different home this time, but made frequent visits to the Genon family.

We are told that we will be here for a week or ten days, unless the Germans pull off something else. Our captain doesn’t think so. He feels the Germans have shot their wad. We are noticing fewer robot bombs, the incoming artillery shelling have diminished and the Luftwaffe seems to be non-existent.There’s busy work around these days. Many of our trucks that have been carrying ammunition, gasoline and rations have returned to join us. They have been following their respective tank companies to be on the spot to re-supply them as they run out of supplies. The orders were to refit, repair, and replace, in order to start a spring offensive. There seems to be a new feeling in the air.

While here two things have happened with me. One, I had a surprise visit from Warren Griffith. Warren lived on Bentwood Street in Geistown, Pa. and was a friend of the family. He was John’s friend. They did a lot of singing together. Warren was with a field artillery unit and heard the 33rd Armored Regiment was nearby. Being a lieutenant, he was able to track me down. We spent an afternoon together. Naturally, we talked about what had just happened this past month. We talked about home, our families, and just shared a great afternoon together. He left me, heading for Luxembourg.

The other thing that happened was quite unusual and painful. While standing in chow line our Warrant Officer, Buster Dodson was standing behind me. Buster was a big robust man who weighed about 250 pounds and stood about 6 feet 4 inches. He grabbed me in a bear hug, and raised me off the ground. As he did this, I heard something crack. After being in pain for several days, I went to the medics. I learned that I had two cracked ribs. They taped me up so that I looked and felt like I was wearing a corset. It was very uncomfortable and limited my mobility. My buddies, Tex and Carl, got quite a kick out of this.

As it turned out, maybe this incident wasn’t all that bad. Captain Woods had a quota to send to Verviers on R and R (Rest and Rehabilitation). He felt the rest would do me good. So on January 28th I departed for Verviers. I spent three days here chumming around with Joe Orient. Joe was from Imperial, Pennsylvania (near Pittsburgh). This is not the first time I visited Verviers. In fact, I was quite familiar with this town. We liberated the town back in September. We stayed overnight here. A family treated us to a nice breakfast that time. I looked them up and visited with them. It was a very awakening experience for Joe and me.

They were so glad to see us. They, as many other French and Belgians, had adopted us. They knew our patch, they knew who the Third Armored was. They worried about us. They knew some of our units took a shellacking. They knew about Hogan’s 400 (G Company), Bastogne, Malmedy, and others. They were saddened to know that we suffered heavy casualties. They were so grateful to realize that we Americans, not once, but twice, drove the Germans from their country and town. They overwhelmed us with kindness. Yes, this was quite an eye-opening and sobering experience.

While here we saw Marlene Dietrich in person. We were impressed with her personality and her down to earth demure. We also attended a dance at the USO. All in all, I had a pleasant time here. I attended a few shows, and had my first ice cream since I left the States, and bought some souvenirs.

When I got back from Verviers, I learned that Warren Griffith was here to see me again. He left a note. I had a hunch he would return. Sure enough, yesterday about 10:00 a.m., Griff showed up. We spent several hours together. Another nice visit. After Griff left, Tex, Carl Kieffer, and I went to Huy. We had a nice time.

Source:  http://www.battleofthebulgememories.be/

One day of Battle at Houyire Hill, January 3, 1945

This presentation is an attempt to give you an overall picture of “B” Company’s attack, its failure and possibly an explanation of what happened and why.

By December 24, 1944, the 1st S.S. Panzer Division is kaput. The 526th has helped to stop the best the Germans could muster in 1944. We have paid the price in men and blood for our battle star and Combat Infantry Badge.

 For the 526th and especially “B” Company the worst is yet to come. The German Army is not defeated and behind Colonel Peiper lay a veteran division pulled out of Norway for their drive into Belgium. They had taken the city of St Vith and now they were dug in on the high ground above Baugnez, Geromont, Otaimont and Hedomont. They are well equipped, well deployed and well dressed in their grey-green and white reversible uniforms.

The story really starts on the morning of January 2, 1945 when Colonel Irwin is notified that quote “in two or three days the 526th will conduct a raid using approximately 50 men.” End of quote. The company chosen for the attack is “B”.

 At about 11:30 the same morning the battalion is notified it would not be a raid but quote “A limited objective attack of company strength on Houyire Hill at 810007. The attack will be tomorrow January 3rd.

At 2 P.M. that day, Colonel Irwin reported to the 30th Division H.Q., here he was briefed and then went to the Regimental H.Q. of the 120th Regiment, our parent organization. There he received orders for the attack. It is now 3:30 P.M. At 6:15 P.M. he returns to Battalion C.P. and at a meeting of staff and Company C.O.’s issues orders for an attack at 8:30 A.M. January 3rd.

Also accompanying is in the attack area is “I” Company of the 120th Regiment. This is of considerable interest to us for two reasons.
1. We are now a part of and entered in the history book of the 120th Regiment and
2. The part played by the tanks assigned to “I” Company

I now quote from the history book of the 120th. “Company “B” 526th was to drive through Hedomont and Baugnez for the hill called Houyire 1500 yards S.W. of Baugnez. It was to be supported by artillery fire from the 1st Battalion and to be prepared to withdraw on orders. Company “I” of the 120th was to attack the area southeast of Otaimont. Its orders were to take prisoners and withdraw on orders to regular position.

Still quoting from their history. At 8:30 A.M. both companies moved out on schedule. The day was foggy, snowing and observation was difficult. Company “I” made good progress until they were well into German lines when the enemy opened up from well camouflaged positions that had been covered with snow. The tankers speeding through the town helped flush out the enemy and the company was able to extricate itself. Company “I” took many casualties and at 7:30 P.M. with 3 prisoners according to plan withdrew.

Resistance proved stiffer for Company “B” 526th. They reached Hedomont but just beyond ran into withering machine gun fire which made it clear the Germans intended to hold Houyire at any cost. Company “B” with at 5:30 P.M.”. End of report and quote.

Now let’s return to our story and the morning of January 3rd. We had been issued white long johns and white towels to put over our uniforms. We were issued extra ammo. I remember we commented about what good aiming points the green and white made. The C.P.’s have been set up; medical half tracks are placed for casualties.

Communication is to be by radio except for a wire line that is to be with Lieutenant Bernstein and the 1st Platoon. Captain Wessel will ride a tank with radio communication to others. It is cold, foggy, and snowing on occasion and visibility is limited. Our artillery from 1st Battalion 120th starts firing on predetermined targets and we are moving out.

At 8:30 A.M. and 8:40 A.M. the 2nd Platoon under Lieutenant Batt and 3rd Platoon under Lieutenant Halbin leave the line of departure in an area named Floriheid at 790033. They skirt a mine field at 790031 and head for Hedomont. The 2nd is on the right and the 3rd on the left.

Captain Wessel on his tank with the radio communication is to meet the infantry near Hedomont at point 795022. He arrives there too soon and is fired upon and withdraws to await the infantry. The 2nd Platoon has already taken three casualties from or own artillery and it has put a light machine gun out of action.

The infantry continues the attack and a German outpost starts firing and Joe Farina, the pointman, is killed. Felix Garcia returns fire and kills the German. The rest of the line moves forward until a machine gun opens fire. Warren Watson with Crugar and Gardiner giving covering fire kills the two machine gunners. Nearby another German jumping from behind a tree empties his burp gun hitting no one and is killed by bullets from several men.

It is now 9:15 A.M. and the infantry is in part of Hedomont. Captain Wessel on the tank platoon leader tank has made contact with them. He is to communicate with the C.P. using their SCR 238 radio. He has had no communication with Lieutenant Bernstein or the 1st Platoon. Apparently he has had none with his C.P. Time is taken here for reorganization of the 2nd and 3rd Platoons and the attack is continued.

At Baugnez 1st Platoon of “A” Company under Lieutenant Beardslee at 8:30 A.M. proceeded to 814020. They take two casualties from enemy artillery at 808023 but move on to set up flanking protection in a semi circle from 814012 to 814020. They are to receive intermittent small arms and mortar fire all day. They are finally ordered to withdraw at 8 P.M. and the last get back to their area at 10:15 P.M.

Things have gone very poorly with 1st Platoon under Lieutenant Bernstein. They leave Geromont proceed up the road to 810020 where they head south toward the objectif 810007 Houyire Hill. Enemy artillery hits soon after we leave the road. John Lopez is killed and Sergeant Magnuson is knocked for a flip but not hit by shrapnel and recovers.

We proceed on to 808015 where we are met by heavy machine gun and mortar fire from the woods ahead of us. The front line Johnny Hess, Ralph Iverson, Bill Duncan, D. J. Johnson and others are dead. The attack continues and one machine gun is captured and the two men are made prisoners. Some want to kill them but fortunately they are taken back otherwise 13 of us later captured would be dead.

Some are now in the woods and some of us are on the hillside in the snow. Art Allen come along side of me with his light machine gun. He is also out of ammo. He has already lost two loaders he tells me. John Bush is trying to work his way forward in front of us. He flops over in the snow dead. Art decides to go back for more ammo and a loader. I decide to try for the woods. It takes a couple of dive in the snow to escape an machine gun but somehow I made it. I later discovered the pants pushed under the long johns on my back have several holes in them.

It must be 9:30 A.M. Part of the platoon is in the woods and the rest are scattered over the hillside dead, wounded or pinned down. Back at Hedomont, the reorganization completed, the attack is continued and ordered. You continue about 200 yards to 797019. Here the leading squad becomes victim of a machine gun off to the right in a barn. Sergeant Schuster has been killed earlier by a hand grenade and now Sergeant Haefs, Bernard Ward, Warren Blankenship, Oliver Love, and Warren Watson are all hit. Sergeant Black returns fire with his machine gun but is also wounded with a bullet through his right eye.

The tank with Captain Wessel moves up to fire a couple of rounds at the barn with no result noted. The attack continues as far as 799017 but now we come under fire from another machine gun at 805016 which has also hit the 1st Platoon. Again the tank fires a couple of rounds with no results. We are pinned down and enemy mortar rounds are starting to drop around us. Artillery is called for but refused because men from 1st Platoon are in that area.

It is now 11:30 A.M. and Captain Wessel has had no contact with his C.P. in the rear at 790033 nor has he heard anything from 1st Platoon. He returns to the C.P. to make contact with Battalion. He is told to hold and defend Hedomont. He is also told the tanks will withdraw at dusk. He returns to Hedomont with the orders at 2:30 P.M. and then returns to the company C.P.

Meanwhile men of the 2nd and 3rd are trying to find any cover they can. Felix Garcia with bullets thumping around him decides to make a run for a barn. He makes it but his canteen doesn’t. In the barn are Sergeant Black and Walter Volinski both wounded. Joe Ricks from the medical detachment exposes himself to pull a man back to the cover of the dirt road. Just before he gets to the road near Lieutenant Halbin an enemy bullet kills him. Wounded men like Watson are trying to work their way back to the C.P. and medical assistance. Sergeant Horvat helps a badly wounded Sergeant Fazio back and returns to Hedomont with supplies. Lieutenant Halbin with a badly dislocated knee returns to the C.P. on way to an operation in Liège.

At about 11:30 A.M. when everything seemed to be stalled Colonel Irwin calls Lieutenant Batt away from 2nd Platoon and sends him to find out what happened to Lieutenant Bernstein and the 1st Platoon. He takes 3 men and goes to Baugnez. There he contacts Lieutenant Beardslee and 1st Platoon “A” Company. No one has heard from Lieutenant Bernstein since 8:30 A.M. Lieutenant Batt starts up the hill and contacts 3 men crawling back down who have been under the machine gun at 805016. They are from 3 different squads. One is a machine gunner who is out of ammunition. Lieutenant Batt asks how many men have been lost. They don’t know and say a lot. He can hear a fire fight going on up in the woods. He continues working his way up the hill and met some men with Lieutenant Johnson. None of these people had seen Lieutenant Bernstein since 8:30. Lieutenant Batt started to return and was pinned down for a time by machine guns at 805016 and 805018. They worked their way out and reported to Colonel Irwin. Lieutenant Johnson and the men and they build on the right flank of 1st Platoon “A” Company.

We in the woods find it is no sanctuary and we are trying to find any cover we can. At the same time with burp guns and hand grenades the Germans are trying to bring other machine guns in on us. Swanstrum and Sciarra working their machine gun help to discourage them. They are both to end up with shrapnel souvenirs. We are trapped and with no communication. We keep looking for the tanks or the rest of the company.

Finally Lieutenant Bernstein sends Warren Clutter out to make contact. He doesn’t get far before he is cut down. I just heard this year that he did make it back. Then Bernstein takes off heading down the hill but a bullet in his posterior puts him in a shell hole and he is later captured.

As we all remember shortly before dusk, the Germans started their counter attack with a barrage of mortar, rocket and artillery fire. The bombardment lasts 20 minutes. To those of us in the woods it was tree limbs, snow and metal coming down followed by hand grenades and burp guns. I take a bullet through my left foot and one through the right shoe. Near By Jim Coslett is cut up by four bullets and will die as a P.O.W. Behind me Sergeant Leo Day and Ralph Russel are killed. Sergeant Magnuson finally calls out Commeradon – the firing stops.

We are relieved of our cigarettes, candy, food, watches, etc. A German soldier about our age helps get my shoe off. We put the bandage on and he makes a tourniquet to slow the bleeding. We are marched back to an area where a medic looks at us but doesn’t do anything. There are 13 of us left. Eight of us have collected Purple Hearts.

We are sat in a semi-circle then taken to a small farm house where we are interrogated by a German officer who speaks very good English. He already knew more about us than we did. He told Lieutenant Bernstein “My men wish to honor your men for the bravery with which you fought but you never had a chance”. For us the battle is over.

 It is not over for the rest of you. Shortly before the barrage starts Ray Holderman, who has already collected one piece of mortar shell, decides they aren’t in a very secure place along side a small hedgerow. McCaslin, Morrow, Wood and Gattis all agree that the machine gun and mortars are getting too friendly and they manage to get back to safer ground. Cotton Potter discovers that the machine gun he has been packing all morning really wouldn’t have worked as a piece of shrapnel has destroyed the operating mechanism. Everyone is hunkering down now trying not to become a target. The cold is beginning to make itself known. Captain Wessel has a new radio and is just leaving the C.P. for Hedomont.

Now comes the bombardment and the tanks take off refusing to wait for any of our wounded. The counter attack comes. There are about 130 white clad Germans. They are hard to see. Orders are given to withdraw and by 5:15 P.M. we are back to the original line of departure. Lieutenant Jacques will spent most of the night trying to account for everyone and get the casualty lists.

When it is over “B” Company has captured 4 Germans from the 2nd and 3rd Companies of the 293rd Regiment of the 18th Volksgrenadiers. The official after action report says we killed approximately 25.

Our attack was a feint, not a main attack, but we were sacrificed to get the Germans to commit their reserves to our area. I understand it worked and they did commit them but we paid quite a price.

 Some conclusions I have reached on what went wrong.

 I – There was very poor intelligence and apparently very little organization. It appears the attack was conceived without real preparation. No one seems to have known what the enemy had or where it was located. We went from a 50 men raid to de done in two or three days to a two company attack the next morning with less than six hours of preparation.

 II – There was a real problem with communication. This is also a planning problem but apparently none of the equipment was tested or put together until we were in the attack. Lieutenant Bernstein was supposed to have a wire phone. What happened to that I don’t know but apparently there was no backup unit. Captain Wessel never heard from Bernstein after 08:30. Yet Battalion, if it knew the problem, did nothing until about noon when it took Lieutenant Batt from his platoon. Why not someone in H.Q., From the after action report quote “It was now 11:30 and because there had been no contact with his rear C.P. up to this time, Captain Wessel returned to his C.P.” He was starting to return with a 509 radio when the counter attack began.

III – The artillery and tanks. Others than the initial barrage on the prepared targets, we could apparently get no further help from the artillery. There is some question about the tanks. We supposedly had one platoon of medium tanks from the 743rd and one Tank Destroyer gun from the 823rd T.D. Battalion. Did we have them and if so what did they do? Even the SCR 538 radio, Captain Wessel tried to use apparently didn’t work. They wouldn’t even take our wounded back.

Remember I quoted from the 120th history. “”I” Company had become entrapped but the tanks hurrying through Otaimont had moved the Germans out so the company could extricate itself”. Well it seems we got a different kind of tankers? They sure didn’t contribute much to our attack or defense.

IV – The weather.

I suppose we can say the weather is the same on both sides of a field, so it didn’t contribute to our defeat, but the Germans were not open and exposed so they probably benefited the most. We all agree the weather was terrible and the Krauts were better prepared for it than we were.

V – We were green. This was our first attack.

Final Conclusion. 

It is interesting to note in this game of chess called war, if you are the General or player who gets to move the pawns, you can do the same thing over and over until you get it right or run out of men.

Let me quote you from the history of the 120th Regiment. “On January 13th the 3rd Battalion of the 120th of the 30th Division was sent in deep snow to take Houyire. The casualties sustained by all three companies reached a new high. They finally took Houyire. Company “I” strength was now that of a strong platoon.”

Source:  http://www.battleofthebulgememories.be/

AMERICAN PATRIOTISM

“If they won’t give us a flag, we’ll make one,” said First Lieutenant Samuel Lombardo, platoon leader Second Platoon, Company I, 394th Infantry Regiment, 99th Division, during the Battle of the Bulge in World War II. The platoon made this United States 48-star flag from scraps of cloth sewn on a white German surrender flag.

When Company I crossed the Remagen Bridge, their flag, only one side completed, became the first American flag in the 99th Division east of the Rhine River. During breaks in the battle, working mostly by candlelight, the flag was completed after two and one-half months, on the banks of the Danube River.

The flag is in the collection of the National Infantry Museum, Fort Benning, Georgia.

Back Row: Left to Right: Pfc. Gordon Wetherby, Charlestown, NH; T/Sgt Isadore Rosen, Pittsburgh, PA; Pfc. George E. Bellaire, Dayton, OH; 1^st Lt. Samuel Lombardo, Altoona, PA

 Front Row: Left to Right: Corp. Cury Beauvais, Chicopee Falls, MA; S/Sgt William Junod, Wyandotte, MI

Published by Lombardo Books, Carlisle, PA 17013

Printed by Beidel Printing House Inc. Shippensburg, PA 17257

The Bulge with the 38^th Cavalry Squadron
and the 146^th Engineer Combat Battalion

On the morning of 16 December 1944, the well orchestrated German attack in the Ardennes (Wacht am Rhein – a subterfuge hiding their offensive intentions behind a pretended defense) was launched.  Because Hitler suspected a security leak within his Wehrmacht, he limited disclosures of the attack plans to only his most trusted generals.  He was unaware that the British had broken his secret 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 high level commanders were caught completely off guard even though many of us at the line level were antsy about all of the enemy activity nearby along our front.  In general, the Wehrmacht followed the mandated radio secrecy orders but there were enough slip-ups by their air force and civilian transportation units to have given our top-level commanders sufficient insight had they not been so over-confident that they discounted these critical intercepts.

At 1520 hours on 16 December, Colonel Pattillo from V Corps called Major Baker S-3 of the 146th Engineer Combat Battalion and ordered a company of engineers to be immediately attached to the 38th Cavalry Squadron at Monschau, to serve as infantry.  “A” Company was in the line at 1700 that evening where they supported for the out-numbered troopers.  The 38th Cavalry was at the northern tip of the Bulge and just north of Lt Colonel McClernand Butler’s 3rd Battalion, 395th Infantry Regiment, 99th Infantry Division, at Hofen.  (The 395th held their ground and so was not involved in a command restructuring which placed the remainder of the 99th Division under command of the 2nd Infantry Division.) 

For several days this small force — including 3rd Platoon, “A” Company, 112th Engineer Combat Battalion, and attached 105mm and 155mm artillery fought off several attacks by vastly superior enemy forces.  Several times they called artillery fire onto their own positions to thwart these attacks.  Canister rounds 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.  According to Cavalry on the Shoulder, the 38th Cavalry was the only mechanized cavalry squadron to be so honored in WWII.  The 146th Engineer Combat Battalion had received a Presidential Unit Citation for their D-Day anti-boat obstacle demolition mission on Omaha Beach, so this added an oak leaf cluster of “A” Company’s PUC.  “A” Company, 612th Tank Destroyer Battalion fought nearby and was told that they were awarded a Meritorious Unit Citation — Unconfirmed.

The battlefield success of the 38th Cavalry Squadron in the Bulge was due to a number of elements, including a seasoned cadre who had fought from Normandy, but probably the most important item being their commanding officer — Lt Colonel Robert O’Brien — a 1936 West Point cavalry graduate.  He was fanatical in his dedication to patrolling the area forward of his lines — to the extent that the 38th came to “own the area between the fronts”!  Initially, this was not the case, but came to pass after several fierce firefights that inflicted heavy casualties on enemy patrols. 

This recounting of the Monschau defense is from Cavalry on the Shoulder:  “An example of the quick and deadly fights initiated by patrols is the instance at the end of October, 1944, when a “B” Troop patrol lead by First Lieutenant Weldon J. Yontz, fought a sharp action against a German patrol in the thick pine forests of the Ardennes.  The cavalry point man, Private Herbert H. Whittard, spotted the enemy first and motioned the cavalry men into position to spring an ambush.  Waiting in cover, the cavalry troopers engaged the enemy patrol at close range that killed or wounded all 22 of them.” 

 “Prisoners later revealed that this enemy patrol was handpicked from the reconnaissance company of the opposing German infantry regiment.  This type of aggressive acting 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 preparation of the defense at Monschau may rank as one of the most thorough defenses by an American battalion – size unit in U.S. Army history.  The cavalry men, taking stock of their equipment, time available, and the aggressive spirit of the troopers, quickly established the defense which made maximum use of all available assets.  The defense was unique in many respects.  First, the establishment of patrol dominance denied the enemy detailed knowledge of the squadron’s disposition and strength.  Thus any attacking enemy would be forced to guess where the units were deployed, and where the squadron was weak and where it was strong.”

“A second aspect of the defense was the unusual attention to ensuring integrated command, control and communications.  To this end the squadron employed 16 radio nets, incorporating over 60 radios.  The high number of radios – several times the number found in an infantry battalion – supplemented a remarkable wire communications system consisting of 65 telephones, 50 miles of telephone wire, and six switchboards.  The wire command and control system integrated all squads, platoons, troops and supporting artillery into a single web.”

“This effort is even more amazing, considering the fact that the squadron was not authorized communication specialists.  The system was designed to function even if a portion of it were destroyed.  It also permitted very small units, in some cases individual four-man machine gun positions and two-man artillery observer teams, to continue to function and receive orders even when cut off from their immediate headquarters.  Additionally, all of the wire was buried deep to protect it from enemy infiltrators, accidental cuts and enemy artillery fire.  Finally, the entire wire system was duplicated, so that each line had a back-up in the event of failure.  This communication system would provide essential to the coordinated defense across such a large sector of front (about six miles) by so small a unit.” 

“The third unique factor which characterized the defense of Monschau was the extremely precise and effective positioning of the available weapons, obstacles and units.  Machine guns were one of the keys to the defense.  The 38th Cavalry dismounted .50 caliber and .30 caliber machine guns from terrain surrounding the town.  The 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 associated with extensive minefields.”

“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 machinegun 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 U.S. Army — the thorough integration and abundance of artillery support — 105mm and 155mm howitzers, augmented by their organic 60mm and 81mm mortars.”

“The effectiveness of the artillery support was later verified by a German prisoner of war.  He reported that German troops in the Monschau sector were forbidden to leave their bunkers and foxholes during the hours of daylight.  The German troops 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.” 

 At 1525 hours on 16 December, Colonel McDonough, the 1121 Engineer Group commander, called our headquarters and ordered another engineer company to be deployed as infantry.  The three “B” Company platoons moved into position the following 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 German advance should they manage to penetrate our lines.  The 3rd Platoon patrolled a 2,000 yard front in the snow. 

 We set up three 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 overrun or bypassed by any determined enemy attack in force.  Sylvin Keck, from the 2nd Platoon, manned a daisy-chain road block on a nearby road.  These are AT mines roped together so they can be quickly pulled across a road at the approach of enemy vehicles – but they are not very effective unless adequately supported by covering fire.  A number of trees had C-2 explosives attached for potential road abatis. 

 While on outpost duty, the 3rd Platoon had no clue as to the German’s intentions.  We were positioned in the woods away from our headquarters but the wealth of unverified rumors, the actuality of the paratroopers and the reports of Skorzeny’s men in American uniforms kept us alert.  Unconfirmed rumors abounded!  Anyone moving about was challenged and this included even easily recognized American generals.  Our reconnaissance officer, Lt Leonard Fox, was taken prisoner by a patrol from the 38th Cavalry Squadron because he had not yet received that day’s password.  After six hours at their CP while they checked on his legitimacy, he was released. 

Lt Colonel von der Heydte’s parachute force was dropped nearby on the night of 16/17 December.  Their initial objective was capturing the Baraque Michel, a road junction midway between Eupen and Malmedy and ten miles west of Monschau – a brushy, timered area with streams and swamps forming the head waters of the Roer River.  The paratroopers were a day late because of glitches in delivering their gasoline and in getting their forces assembled and were also widely scattered because of inexperienced pilots and minimal advance information concerning their mission. 

The initial plan called for the General Sepp Dietrich’s forces to link up with the paratroopers at this road junction on 16 December — an intended replay of their successful breakthrough in 1940.  Had Dietrich been able to push his way through Monschau, he very well may have captured the big gasoline dumps near Eupen and then moved almost unimpeded north to Antwerp.  That would have made the 101^st Airborne stand at Bastogne a non-event! 

 The twin “Jumo” engineers of the German planes were unsynchronized, and so had a distinctive uneven “yummm-yummm-yummm” beat-frequency sound as they flew overhead at night.  We believe that they were for aerial resupply of the paratroopers.  We were itching to turn our machine guns on them, but this was specifically forbidden as it would have divulged our defensive positions.  Several V-1s (Buzz Bombs) that landed nearby were said to have contained food and medicines instead of explosives but I saw one. 

 Early in the Bulge, Earl Buffington 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 that also knocked off his Omaha Beach “Trophy Helmet”, which sported two clean 8mm holes.   The bullet had passed through the front and out the back of the helmet, nicking his ear and the side of his head.  That he had not been seriously wounded was considered a good omen so he refused to swap it for a new one.  However, his trophy helmet was never recovered!  Earl was a volunteer from the 2nd Infantry Division for our anti-landing craft demolition mission and was wounded D-Day morning.  He was the only 2nd Infantry Division volunteer who returned to the 146th Engineer Combat Battalion after his hospitalization. 

 Engineers have only occasional need for machine guns, but we had both the WWI vintage water-cooled .30 caliber Brownings as well as the newer air cooler version and the .50 caliber Brownings (ring-mounted on our truck cabs for anti-aircraft).  Our .30s were light years behind the vastly superior German MG-42.  During the early hours of the paratroop drop, one of our water-cooled Brownings fired just one round, and sat there mute – the water in the cooling jacket had frozen, jamming the action. 

 Lt Schindler, who spoke German, led a reconnaissance patrol on one cold winter day, seeking information for V Corps on a German Panzer Division: “The infantry said that we were stupid for going beyond their outpost.  Claude Dobbs and Sergeant Roy Durfey were in Lt Schindler’s jeep, and Norman Lightell and the rest of the squad were in the truck driven by Robert Richardson.  Tom Wilkins manned the ring-mounted .50 cal machine gun.  As they approached a house they saw a German soldier run inside.  The men in back jumped out while Rom remained on the machine gun.” 

“Schindler’s jeep backed up and he called out in German for those inside to surrender.  Thirty-seven of them did so and were captured without a shot being fired.  They were then led away to a PW cage.  Later Schindler, Cecil Morgan and Roy Durfey returned to a nearby house from where smoke had been seen coming from the chimney and where Durfey had noticed a mule hooked to a two-wheel cart outside.  Morgan kicked in the door and stepped inside with a Thompson sub an 38 more surrendered.  Not a bad for a lieutenant and one squad of engineers!  Before taking the prisoners away, Durfey unhitched the mule and turned it loose.” 

On 23 December, while working on a large anti-personnel minefield near Elsenborn, designed to deny the Germans access to a natural infiltration corridor, a flight of British “Typhoons” came roaring in and rocketed a woods 80 yards to the east.  We were a bit jumpy as their path was almost directly overhead and we thought that they might have mistaken us for Germans.  That would not have been too unusual, considering the chaotic conditions along the front at that time.  We saw no indication of German forces before or after the strike; but since we were close to the front lines, there is a possibility that German armor was located there. 

 A prominent radiator bulge under their engines gave them a distinctive appearance, and their engines made an unusual roaring noise — not at all like the sharp exhaust crack of the Rolls Royce Merlins in Spitfires and Mustangs.  I was told that these engines had 24 cylinders — compared to the twelve cylinders of the Merlin — and the 24 exhausts blended the sound into the unusual road. (Since verified) 

 Christmas Day 1944, on the way to our AP minefield, a doe and a yearling crossed in front of our truck so I told the men in back to shoot her.  After a dozen or more rounds had been fired, at a distance of about 80 yards, I yelled “cease fire” as the deer disappeared into the brush.  The firing might have been interpreted as a fire fight with a German patrol, initiating a wasteful response.  The doe then sauntered back across the road so I shot her.  There was one hole in her hide.  That’s less than 10% accuracy for our “American Marksmen.”  Our company cooks then served up the fresh meat, which was a welcome change to our regular diet. 

 Several weeks previously, “B” Company’s various work parties returned to the company bivouac area one evening with five hogs, two cows, and a deer.  Someone had suggested that we have fresh meat, but had not coordinated the effort.  The animals were a nuisance around our AP minefields, as they hit our trip wires and detonated the mines – killing themselves in the process.  We only hastened their demise.  The hogs were fried first, and the pork fat was then used in frying the rest of the meat.  The meat was tough and chewy, but still much appreciated! 

On the night of 26 December 1944, our bivouac area was shelled heavily for about 30 minutes.  We were in an area of large pine trees, so there were many tree bursts.  Heading for a safe refuge in a culvert (which he called a tin-horn), Sgt Jackson ran into a truck tailgate and chipped off the corner of an upper front tooth.  I flattened myself on the ground at the base of a large tree away from the direction of most of the tree bursts, and was happy when the shelling ceased.  We believed that the damage was done by our captured 105mm howitzers.  The shelling probably stopped when the Germans ran out of ammunition.

Several trucks had flat tires and other holes, and the driveline of one truck was completely severed.  A shell fragment smashed through the front panel of our headquarters desk drawer, and spinning around inside, made a mouse nest out of the papers within.  A number of artillery fragments riddled the battalion aid station tent – one striking Ernest K. Hansen in the chest as he was holding a plasma bottle over one of our wounded. 

 Lt Colonel Isley was the most seriously wounded.  The battalion was moved to Henri-Chapelle that night – per Isley’s orders before he was evacuated.  Several of Colonel Skorzeny’s men who were captured wearing American uniforms after infiltrating our lines were executed by a firing squad at Henri-Chapelle a few weeks later. 

 I arrived late at our bivouac area, but the only cover I could find was in the haymow of a barn.  I tried to find a spot to spread ut, but the space was completely filled with bodies.  I did my best to find a bare spot, but after some offered to loosen all my teeth if I didn’t quite stepping on him, I crawled back out and shivered in the jeep until dawn.  The next morning 3rd Platoon – and possibly all of “B” Company — returned to our original bivouac area, and we continued working on the AP minefield. 

New Year’s Day morning was clear and cold.  While we were adding the red triangles – indicating a minefield — to the barbed wire fence around the AP minefield, the sky was suddenly filled with 28 ME 109s flying northwest at 1000 feet.  “Operation Bodenplatte” was the plan to attack our airfields and destroy our planes on the ground — a continuation of the Bulge.  A number of airfields near our front were successfully attacked that day, and several hundred American planes were destroyed on the ground.  German losses were only one-third of our but their losses — and especially their losses of trained pilots – were those that they could ill afford.

Luckily for us, our P47s were rendezvousing near the Liege air-fields for a strike of their own, and they caught these Germans by surprise as they were coming in.  It must have been a dog-fight, but we saw only the tail end of the action from our work area.  In 20 minutes, as we watched in fascination, five ME-109s were shot out of the sky.  The first one fell 1500 yards away, and they kept dropping closer and closer until the last one was only 300 yards from our work party.

The story was almost the same in every case.  The 109 pilots, who were flying southeast and very close to the deck heading for home, were being slaughtered by the P47s.  Our pilots were definitely more aggressive, and must have had superior training and experience.  We didn’t see any parts being shot off the 109s, but two were spewing smoke — before they crashed and sent up big black pillars.  The third downed plane hit 600 yards away, and several of us headed out to see what we could find of interest, (read Lugers or P38s)!  We had just started off, when another 109 came limping toward us, smoking and losing speed and altitude.

The P-47 kept boring in and firing short machine gun bursts.  The 109 was hidden by a group of pine trees when the pilot finally hauled back on the stick in an attempt to gain some altitude to jump.  His plane rose only a few hundred feet, coming back into our field of view, and then stalled just as he bailed out.  We charged down the hill to the crash site, fully expecting to find a dead pilot near the wreckage, since we were certain that he had lacked sufficient altitude to eject safely. 

 The pilot could not be found, but the plane was on fire and its magnesium castings were burning brightly.  We poked around in the wreckage until the machine gun and cannon shells began to cook off and then made our made exodus.  We searched the surrounding area and finally found the pilot’s chute in a pine tree 100 yards back in the direction from which we had come.  Landing in the tree surely saved him from severe injuries or death.  He had slipped his chute and hid until we passed, and then backtracked in our trail in the snow.  We followed his tracks, but lost them at dusk in the area where the snow had been heavily trampled. 

After escaping death in such a remarkable exit by parachute, we were saddened the next morning to find the young pilot dead within our AP minefield.  He crawled through our wire barrier and suffered modest wounds from an anti-personnel mine.  We surmised that he believed he would freeze to death before morning, so he killed himself with his 9mm P-38. 

The winter of 1944 was one of the coldest in many years, often dropping well below zero degrees Fahrenheit.  We slept in pup tends in the snow and motored about in our jeeps with the windshields folded down to be out of the way in case of an ambush or a firefight and slithered around in the snow in lose foot-freezing GI leather boots. 

 Our battalion had few medical problems during this period, although some, who failed to change their socks frequently, contracted trench foot (but none were from the 3rd Platoon).  Our armies lost many man/days to this malady during the Bulge.  It was easily prevented by keeping spare woolen socks ducked in one’s pants.  Body heat dried them out and they could then be swapped several times a day — meanwhile, giving the feet and toes an energetic massage.  Infantrymen, occupying foxholes out in the open and under fire, did not always have that option and so suffered many cases if trechfoot.   Dr Stanley Goodman treated several combat exhaustion cases with sedatives and rest — followed by several days of heavy labor.  Having all of this happen within the sounds of artillery and other battle noise near the front apparently did the trick. 

 A group of “B” Company men built a cardboard warming shack with a diesel drum stove in the center.  When one man tried to force his way in near the stove in an already full shack, he was unable to do so, and no one offered to swap places.  Not be deterred, he yelled, “I’ll show you sons of bitches,” and threw a full clip of M-1 ammo into the fire.  The mad scramble for the doorway almost completely demolished the shack — after which the perpetrator was run down and pounded. 

We must have been a bit odoriferous as we barely had an opportunity to shower.  “Whore baths” — water heated in helmets over an open fire was our only option for washing faces, ears, neck, underarms, crotch and feet — in that order.  Our helmets then took on a dingy hue.  We were usually able to shave daily — often in cold water — but our razors were not the sharpest ones on the planet.  I often fantasized about luxuriating in a tub of steaming hot water followed by a professional barber’s shave.  When the opportunity later arose for a German barber to do the job, I had to mentally restrain myself to keep from bolting from his chair when I realized how close to my throat his straightedge razor was operating. 

 Surprisingly, although we were often half frozen from riding in jeeps – with the windshield down – or from sloshing about in the snow, few of us were ever sick with colds or flu.  After most of the Bulge fighting was over and the weather had improved, we were issued insulated shoe pacs in lieu of those foot-freezing GI leather boots.  Citizen Soldiers by Stephen Ambrose noted that the American commanders gambled that the war would be over before we needed shoe pacs – in retrospect an error in judgment but  “C’est la guerre” – you can’t win all!

Source:  http://www.battleofthebulgememories.be/

My part in the Battle of the Bulge could be said to have started 75 miles north of Marche, Belgium, when my anti-tank platoon was attached to the thinned ranks of G Company, 2nd Battalion, 333rd Regiment, of the 84th “Railsplitter” Infantry Division.

We entered the front line into German-dug foxholes on the night of December 15, aided by low light of British searchlights playing onto the sky. I carried a bazooka, but had it knocked from my left hand when a piece of shrapnel hit the bazooka and the tips of my fingers, leaving my fingers numb for hours. We spent three days and three nights in those holes in 38° light rain and mud except to brave snipers and scattered artillery shells in order to evacuate wounded, bring up rations, or whatever. We were shelled heavily twice each day.

Some hours later, early morning of the 16th, Hitler’s armies launched their surprise attack through the Ardennes forests of Belgium, taking a heavy toll of our young soldiers. Our General Boiling got word to get the 84th to Marche and to hold the Marche to Hotton roadway “At all costs”. Bolling got there by 7 p.m. on the 20th, and the 334th Regiment began arriving by 10 p.m., followed by the 335th, and lastly by my 333rd, which had still been on the front lines near Geilenkirchen on the 18th. We were held in reserve until we got new men and re-organized.

General Eisenhower in his Crusade In Europe said “The northern flank was obviously the dangerous one and the fighting continued to mount in intensity.”

Author Charles B. MacDonald in his A Time For Trumpets adds that “As General Boiling readily deduced, the Germans needed Marche, for the town was as much a road center as was Bastogne.”

On the 22nd of December elements of our 2n Bn., 333rd, were strung out along a sloping road with five 57 mm anti-tank guns, dozens of bazookas, several 50 caliber machine guns, and several 30 caliber machine guns trained on a small bridge which had been mined to be blown if necessary. We were still holding that area on Christmas day and a few days afterward. The weather had turned terribly cold. Fires were forbidden except for small gasoline burners to heat coffee. Canteens froze solid and burst open. We tried to sleep, huddled together sharing blankets. We learned to keep an extra pair of socks tucked under our shirts to keep them warm and dry. It snowed and got deep. By some accounts the temperature dropped into the low teens.

Nights were long, starting about 4:30 p.m. and light came about 7:30 a.m., making guard duty trying and dangerous. Two hours on guard and four off was the usual, causing intermittent sleep, at best. Just keeping warm a problem. Sheets of newspaper slipped between layers of clothing were great windbreakers.

Germans in American uniforms and driving our vehicles were behind our lines. We were ordered to stop all vehicles and question the occupants about things we would know but Germans might not. We worked in pairs, one approaching the vehicle, the other hidden. Colonels and generals found themselves answering who was Mickey Mouse’s girlfriend. Then-we heard about the Malmedy massacre, and in our rage, we swore to take no prisoners. Actually, that didn’t hold later on.

When we first moved into Hotton, the enemy was close, but we didn’t know how close, so motor engine noise was kept low or off entirely and our 57’s were manhandled into position without talking and made ready next to one of the houses. Nothing. Next morning as we waited in the kitchen, an artillery shell blew in part of the wall and knocked over the pot-belly stove next to us. No injuries. At midnight of New Year’s Eve Jack and I were on guard nearby with a “daisy chain” of anti-tank mines. Tied about 18 inches apart they were in the ditch on the side of the road, and we had the end of the rope on the other side. If a tank came, we were to pull the mines onto the road, and run. No tanks, but exactly at midnight both our and German artillery let loose with a barrage at the other that was like nothing we had ever heard. Heavy artillery whistled over our heads in both directions. We heard the gun blasts and the explosions on both sides of us. By the 26th the whole front was quiet, and then the British came into Hotton and took our positions.

In his memoirs Winston Churchill wrote, “The wheel of the Fifth and Sixth Panzer Armies produced bitter fighting around Marche, which lasted till December 26, By then the Germans were exhausted, although at one time they were only four miles from the Meuse and had penetrated over sixty miles. Balked of their foremost objective, the Meuse, the Panzers turned savagely on Bastogne…..”

It took a few days to get re-organized, but on January 3, 1945, the 84th was paired with the 2nd Armored while the 83rd was paired with the 3rd Armored for the start of our-counter-offensive to choke off the tip of the German penetration. Our pincer move was to start at Manhay and end at Houffalize where we were to meet the Third Army coming from the south,, only about half our distance. The following days are confused in my mind, for we seemed always on the move from one short stay here or there to another place with a name. I remember Odeigne. During a lull we walked up a hill to a small one-room schoolhouse and just missed being hit by a mortar shell tree-burst. I took a little time to inspect the classroom. I found many French translations of our fairy tales and cowboy stories. In the cellar of the schoolhouse we found about forty civilians crowded into a space too small for ten. As I came down the path again I stopped to look at a dead G.I. nearly covered with snow. His arm and part of his head could be seen. I wondered whether his mother would ever see the watch still on his wrist. The next day it snowed and kept on snowing. Roads became almost invisible, and vehicles slid into ditches. Tanks made the hard surfaces slick as ice.

In a blinding snowstorm our E and F Companies launched an attack to take and secure the La Roche Road. No tank support. The snow was too deep and the terrain too difficult for them. An F Company patrol secured the vital crossroads where the La Roche Road and the Houffalize Road met. This feat had deprived the enemy of the only two first-rate roads to the east, and has been considered the turning point of the Ardennes operations. The enemy had been taken completely by surprise.

It was near here that a patrol of eight of us were sent to bring in a group of about 35 or 40 German prisoners being held by two GIs. I was the third man, sent along as interpreter. We waded through waist deep snow for some distance and then onto bare ground which had been blown clear. The Lieutenant, in the lead, saw the Germans just inside a grove of pine trees and started into the grassy area.. There was an explosion and I felt a puff-of air on my face. The sergeant two steps ahead of me had stepped on a German Shu mine and lost his foot. I backed out; the lieutenant re-traced his steps and got out. What to do? He ordered two of the biggest men to get the sergeant out. There was another explosion and another foot gone, while the third man had shrapnel up and down his right side. The second man was laughing. He was going back to a nice warm hospital bed. The lieutenant called for a jeep and they were all taken back to the Battalion Aid Station.

We found a path around the mine field and using my Pennsylvania German, I got the prisoners lined up, yelled some bad words at them, and marched them off to the La Roche-Houffalize crossroads, where the MPs took them back. Foxholes were not always safe havens. Just before the minefield incident

I vividly recall what it did to one’ German. He was no deader than many others, but his torso was frozen solid and half hanging on the edge of the hole. His head was gone, his insides had slid to the bottom of the hole, and his chest cavity was blown open. I couldn’t help thinking how nice and clean and pink and shiny the cavity was.

In Laroche, our squad found protection in the basement of a building mostly destroyed by artillery and by a fire. It had a concrete first floor and one wall in danger of falling down the stairwell, so we knocked more of it down and descended into the basement. Nice and warm from the heat of the first floor. Then we began to be too warm,, so we peeled off some outer clothing. Then our shirts. I don’t recall going any farther. Oh, but it was great to be warm for a few hours.

Again, we moved a lot. The war for the ordinary foot soldier is only just where he is and how far he can see around himself.

Battle in The Ardennes (Battle of the Bulge) ended officially on January 25, 1945. But the front line was still not back to where it had been before the 16th of December, 1944. So the 84th was put to work again to erase the holdouts east of Houffalize. Beho was our Battalion’s last objective to help in that effort. On the way there, through Bovigny, every vehicle in the convoy bogged down in the deep snow. It took hours to get to Bovigny and then start for Beho. There was still enemy resistance, but our slogging riflemen accomplished the task.

I can never say enough for those men who walked into the face of the enemy knowing they could be wounded or die at any time. They were the heroes. I was just one of the lucky ones. I can claim nothing spectacular; but I was there.

Source:  http://www.battleofthebulgememories.be/