Bulge Memory – Originally published in The Bulge Bugle® Winter 2020.
We were sent to Belgium after fighting many battles in France. We ended up in St. Vith which was supposed to be a “Rest Area” for our troops.
On the night of December 16 or 17th, we heard the huge buildup of armor across the valley. The following night, about three Sherman tanks attacked one or two tigers which were visible from our vantage point. The Sherman’s were running circles around them but were eventually knocked out by superior Tigers. It was like the 4th of July and we had a good seat. Little did we know what was about to come.
All of a sudden the barrage started and never seemed to let up, as their 88s poured into us. Many of our men were hit and were calling “Dick, I’m hit!” (not “Medic!”). I had trained with all of these men and was assigned to the 1st Platoon so they all knew me.
A man from New Bedford, MA was hit in the chest and was bleeding badly, so I crawled over to him and bandaged him up as best I could and they evacuated him. I didn’t give him much hope to make it. (Several years later after the war, I was walking down the streets of Boston with my sister when a man and a friend stopped us and introduced me to his friend as the guy that saved his life. I was speechless, I thought he was dead). Several others were KIA or WIA and I treated them to the best I could under the circumstances.
We were told to evacuate on the 21st of December, and we congregated on a hill about 20 miles behind the German lines with Col. Riggs. Riggs gave us three options: 1) fight out enforce, 2) break up into squads and try to work our way through the lines, or 3) retreat in the deep woods and wait for a counter attack. The vote was taken, and much to the dismay of Col. Riggs, #2 was elected. (Note: Most of the GIs had already destroyed their firearms so #1 would have been useless).
I was in the first squad to leave and eventually we were surrounded by Germans. My days as a POW began.
Many years later at the 168th reunion, our Battalion was awarded the Distinguished Unit Citation and the Belgian Croix de Guerre (war cross). Both awards recognize the 168th for their stubborn defense of St. Vith Belgium during the Battle of the Bulge. The 168th held the pivotal communication center against a larger German force for seven days before being ordered to retreat.
Richard Lewis survived 4 months of German POW camps and suffered from frozen feet which were saved with penicillin after liberation April 6, 1944. Later on he graduated from business college and was named Business Administrator for a private high school for girls. He later owned and operated a retail variety store for 15 years until his retirement. His first wife Virginia died in 1995, and he has since married Mary, with whom he lives in Florida.
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by Joanne Moss, niece of BOBA member Matthew A. Reluga, SSGT 90th Infantry Division
Recently, I was asked to write a brief story about the war history of Matthew A. Reluga. Overwhelmed was what I felt at the time, since Matt is now 101 years of age and he does not often recall what he had for breakfast, let alone what transpired well over seventy-five years ago. Several times, I broached the subject and asked what he particularly remembered about those trying and emotional times. Each time, I received the same answer. “It was long ago and I don’t want to talk about it.” This was indeed a mixed message, as he has often expressed the sentiment that we must all remember what went before and, especially, the Battle of the Bulge where he came off the boat only to fall face first into the icy waters. Fortunately, or unfortunately, a fellow soldier (unnamed) yanked him up by his pack and pushed him forward to meet untold chaos.
He told of troops dropping air markers from the planes to show where the landing was to happen but the wind drove the smoke the wrong way and the battle worsened. He also related to my family that he was sent as an intelligence scout into the line of fire where he was subjected to both American and German artillery. Despite this, he made it back to his troops with important information. He does not recall where this took place, other than he told his driver to stay with the vehicle and not to follow him under any circumstances. Matt related that he still sees the soldier’s face and that the fellow looked awfully scared!
None of this seemed like the meat of a “Battle of the Bulge” story and I was a bit disappointed that he could not remember more about battle lines, towns, people he met, etc. Then, about a week ago, while visiting and straightening his closet for him, I found a beautifully bound book on WWII and the various theatres. It was filled with maps showing battles, line of demarcation, towns, and arrows showing German, English and American movement through various battles. Finally, I thought I had found a memory jogger to get more information from this gallant soldier.
I brought the book to his chair and opened it up to his Division’s pages. He looked at me with watery eyes and said that it was quite a book but he was there because it was his duty to be there, not to remember or recognize any of the towns or people. When asked if he remembered any of the fellow soldiers he fought so closely with, he denied remembering any, with the exception of one. He has a picture hanging on his living room wall of that soldier. Matt related that they were good buddies and that they talked often about where they were (War), why they were there (fighting the Germans) and what they were doing in the field. He related also that both of them preferred to take on assignments alone.
Why, I asked?
“It was better to know that no one else was at risk and would die because of where we were,” was his response.
“I still see the faces.” He knew that at any given time, the young fellow next to him might be blown up or shot and, after seeing that happen so many times, he preferred to go it alone. At one battle, his Division of about 150 men went to fight. Only 7 returned, of which he was one. He wonders to this day why that is.
The times he does remember, with some accuracy, was riding on a train to either a boot camp or training camp. The train had broken windows and the soldiers were hanging out the windows looking at the people along the route. A trip to Mexico while on leave and a trip to Paris, France where he was lucky enough to spend some hours with his brother, Charles, an Intelligence Officer in charge of handling captured German soldiers, also stands out in his mind.
Again, none of this seemed like material for an article on war heroism. What it did provide me with was perhaps some insight into the fact that Uncle Matt never remembered our names, the names of his neighbors, or the names of relatives other than his immediate family. My husband was not usually called by name, my son is often addressed as his father, and I am “sweetheart” or “dear” unless he is pushed to say my name. It is then my last name followed by my first (military carry-over?). Neighbors are known as the lady on the corner, the one next door (who was his caretaker and remains a friend and supporter,) and the guy across the street even though they have lived there for many years and were, and are, an important part of his life. He can remember facts about my family that are relayed to him on visits. I believe that his lack of personal nametagging is more a direct result of his life history and most particularly, his war experience.
Being brought up after WWI, going to an orphanage as a young child and raised by strangers until his high school years, he may not have been able to develop close personal ties. Children whom he befriended came and went dependent on their family status. Going to war and having his friends and comrades taken from him on a daily basis, he developed a strategy to protect himself from losing the people he might become attached to. If they had no name, he could not be unduly affected should they be taken away for whatever reason. Unfortunately, while names can easily fade into oblivion, faces do not. Thus, he is still tormented with the faces of those that were left on the battlefield. Because of those faces, Matt refused the Purple Heart. He felt, and still feels, that those medals belong to those who gave their lives. Sadly, he does not realize that he too gave a large part of his life to those fighting years and the memories that he carries to this day.
Now when I visit, I no longer feel upset when he doesn’t call me by name. When I see the light in his eyes when we arrive to visit, I know that I am remembered and cared about. When I see his eyes as he looks at his fellow veterans in his new residence, the Veterans Home, I know that they, too, are important to him, even without names. I believe that all those unnamed soldiers of long ago are still remembered and cared about, name or not, when he asks that the Battle be remembered. No, names and places are really not important, because I can see his remembrance in his eyes.
Photos: Matthew A. Regula, honorable WWII Veteran and recipient of The Bronze Star, Silver Star and various Theatre Medals. Matt is a treasured member of the Delaware Valley Chapter.
In case you missed any of the sessions from Remembering the Battle of the Bulge, Virginia War Memorial has graciously provided the playback here. We had at least 6 countries represented in our day-long series of lectures on October 15th – Belgium, Luxembourg, France, Holland, Italy, and the United States!
BOBA would like to thank the Virginia War Memorial and the Lifelong Learning Institute in Chesterfield for making the event possible. Kudos to our host Jim Triesler, our organizers Morgan Guyer (VWM) and Rachel Rameriz (LLI) and to our presenters Chris Kolakowski, Heidi Sheldon, Leon Reed & Lois Lembo, Andrew Biggio and Dr. Andy Waskie! Special thanks to Ambassador of Belgium H.E. Jean-Arthur Régibeau, Deputy Chief of Mission Peggy Frantzen from Luxembourg, VWM Director Dr. Clay Mountcastle and BOBA President John Mohor for their participation.
And finally, sincere gratitude to our Bulge veterans George Merz, Francis Chesko and Fred Faulkner for sharing their experiences and for serving their country over 75 years ago at the Battle of the Bulge!
Saturday, November 7, 2020 | 2:00 p.m. – 3:30 p.m. U.S. Eastern Time Virtual Meeting Via WEBEX |REGISTRATION REQUIRED
Attention ALL BOBA members!
You are cordially invited to attend our virtual Annual Membership WEBEX Meeting of Battle of the Bulge Association®, Inc. on Saturday, November 7, 2020 from 2:00 p.m. – 3:30 p.m. U.S. Eastern Time –> Log on EARLY at 1:45 p.m. U.S. Eastern Time to view a special video presentation from Belgium created by BOBA member Joel Lamberty. Joel will also present a video within the program as well as a video from BOBA member Jean-Pierre Paviot from France and hear the Ardennes March composed by BOBA veteran member Fred Faulkner!
CLICK HERE TO REGISTER. PLEASE RSVP BY OCTOBER 30th.Registration is required. Dial-in info and the web link will be sent to you prior to the meeting date.
Also, be sure to review theMeeting Agendaandslate of nomineesor our 2021 BOBA Board of Directors. Voting will take place during the meeting.
All current BOBA members are welcome to attend and vote, including any family or friends whojoin our organization before the meeting day.
THANK YOU FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT!
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Frederick L. Faulkner of 3257 SIG SVC CO (pictured below), member of Chapters 23 & 32, has composed 3 pieces for concert band that recognize and honor the participants of Pearl Harbor, The Battle of the Bulge and Viet Nam. Having played piano and the reed instruments in concert and jazz bands over the years as a hobby, he decided to try and write something that would honor these wars that he had lived through and participated in. Having had no formal training in composition, he was helped immensely by his current concert band director Henry Fletcher, in New Port Richey, Florida. After the success of The Ardennes March, he was motivated to write the Pearl Harbor Memorial and the Viet Nam Tribute. The Viet Nam Tribute is unique in that there is live battle sound incorporated into the piece. These 3 works were received equally well by the audience and are played annually by the Richey Concert Band in new Port Richey, Florida. The band consists of 65-75 pieces and is a non-paid community band of 48 years standing.
Mission: The 12th Infantry Regiment of the 4th Infantry Division, from November 6, 1944 to December 7, 1944, participated in the Bloody Battle of the Hurtgen Forest in Germany. During the Battle of the Bulge, the 12th Infantry led the transfer to the country of Luxembourg for defense of the Luxembourg area along the Sauer River. All units were to receive replacements and upgrade the equipment. My job was a litter bearer, which was to remove seriously wounded soldiers from the battlefield. My most vivid memories of the Bulge were close calls! On the morning of December 21, 1944, there was a call for two litter teams to Company F in Berdorf. We had two jeeps with a litter team on each. The road from the woods outside Consdorf to Berdorf was about four miles without any shelter. Our jeep drivers stopped, at the edge of the woods, to decide what they would do. As the driver of the first jeep pulled out, at a high speed, we were right behind.
All of a sudden out of nowhere, two soldiers appeared, shouting to stop. They were the outpost. We were able to get the first jeep to stop and turn around. The outpost guards told us the company pulled back during the night, and if we kept going – we were in “No Man’s Land” heading into the German lines. We were taken to the two wounded soldiers, and we transported them to the 2nd Battalion Aid Station. We almost became prisoners or being killed.
The next morning, with a new line of defense holding, my commanding officer called me aside, and told me the Battalion Mail Sergeant was going to Luxembourg City to pick up mail at Regimental Headquarters. As part of “other duties” as assigned, my commander made arrangements for me to go to Regimental HQ with the Sergeant and his driver to deliver an envelope. On our travels via Highway 11, about a mile past Radio Luxembourg, we were stopped at a Division Checkpoint. We then continued to Regimental HQ. I was dropped off, they continued to service company. I took care of the commander’s business and waited for the sergeant and driver. A few minutes later, they pulled up with a trailer full of mail bags. We did not receive mail for more than a month; because of the heavy fighting in the Hurtgen Forest.
We traveled back over Highway 11 and were stopped at a new 1st Army Checkpoint that was setup. This checkpoint was to help capture the German paratroopers, who were dropped behind our lines. The MPs at Checkpoint were checking serial numbers, and our jeep’s serial numbers were ones they were looking for. We tried to explain that we just picked up the mail, but were sent back to Luxembourg City with a police escort. It turned out that the MPs located the orders that said they should be checking “Dog Tag” numbers instead, so we were let go. When we arrived back at Battalion, we were met with “Where were you? What happened? We called Regiment and they said you left over two hours ago.” We explained that we were stopped at a 1st Army Checkpoint. The serial number on our jeep matched one of the numbers the MPs were looking for. We were taken to the 1st Army Provos Marshal Office, as possible “German paratroopers and spies.” The Battalion staff said they were glad we got back safe!
The Battle of the Bulge turned out to be a bigger and more important attack than any commander realized on the first day. The attack was on a 75-mile front at the same time. This battle turned out to be the largest land battle the US Army ever fought, since it was found on June 14, 1775 to the present.
Awards: Combat Medical Badge, Bronze Star Medal with “V” device (valor), 2 Oak Leaf Clusters to Bronze Medal, Purple Heart Medal, Good Conduct Medal, American Campaign Medal, Europe-Africa-Middle East Medal with 5 Campaign Stars (Battle Stars), WWII Victory Medal, Presidential Unit Citation, The Chevalier-French Legion of Honor Medal, Normandy Jubilee of Liberty Medal, Belgian Fourragère.
Picture of Jacob at the 75th Anniversary Commemoration of the End of the Battle of the Bulge 1/25/20, Washington, DC. Photo courtesy: Hylton Phillips-Page
CANCELLED– Battle of the Bulge Association® 39th Annual Reunion
Under much consideration and due to the coronavirus pandemic, the BOBA Board of Directors voted to cancel our 2020 reunion which was scheduled for October 15-20 in Charleston, SC. Several factors impacted the decision including: the ability to plan activities we wanted around strict restrictions, city ordinances and social distancing has been difficult; many members, especially our veterans, are part of the “at risk” group; and also many members expressed they do not intend to come due to the pandemic.
We’re looking into having a “virtual” membership meeting this Fall so please check back here often for updates!
Battle of the Bulge Association is a registered trademark.
The newspapers and radio stations announced the news on May 8, 1945. “V-E Officially Proclaimed!” The Associated Press boldly stated, “The Allies proclaimed today the unconditional surrender of Germany. President Truman announcing ‘a solemn but glorious hour,’ set next Sunday as a day of Thanksgiving but reminded, ‘our blows will continue until the Japanese lay down their arms in unconditional surrender.”
Seventy-five years later, it is easy to imagine that V-E Day was just a day of celebration for both the troops in Europe and the families on the home front. For weeks, there had been a sense of the war winding down, but no one was certain when it would actually end. Once victory was official, the soldiers felt relief, but did not know when they would return home or what lay ahead for them beyond the victory in Europe. Would they serve on occupation duty or would they head to the war in Japan?
American soldiers served for the duration and the end of the war was not always so clear. Back in 1943, one soldier wrote that he expected to be home by 1947. However, by January 1945, victory in the Bulge had ended Hitler’s final blitzkrieg. By spring, there was a feeling that the end of the war in Europe was finally near, though rumors and confusion were common. On April 10, Giles McGinty of the 127th AAA Gun Bn. wrote to his wife that “You never know what paper or person to believe,” and that he “bet the war would be over within 50 days.”
Vincent Winter, of the 735th Railway Operating Battalion, wrote to his wife about a premature celebration in the railyards. “For the first time over here I feel like the war might be over. I haven’t read a newspaper for so long, and haven’t heard a radio either, but last night May 4 at 9:20 pm in this large ruined city of Germany somebody hollered, ‘The war’s over.’ In the yard where my caboose was, all the engine whistles, 45 automatics, 03 rifles, switchmen’s horns and flares were going full blast. At 9:25 pm just five minutes later, the roundhouse started all engine whistles and pistols. At 9:30 pm, the whole town sounded like the front lines. I’m telling you the tears ran right down my face as all I thought of then was you. It was a feeling I’ll never be able to explain, but I was happy. No one knows for sure yet if the war is really over.”
On May 5, Preston Searle wrote to his wife from France, “I guess by the time you get this letter the war will be over on this side. There have been some very favorable reports lately. Can’t see how it can last very much longer. Right now I’d say it will be over within the next 48 hours.”
As the fighting stopped on May 7, Jackie Higgins of General Patton’s Third Army summarized the feelings of many soldiers when he wrote to his parents. “Today the war here finished. I can’t seem to grasp it. This stillness is as bad as all the noise. It seems like a great weight on one’s shoulder that can’t be shook off. Yes I’m well, not a scratch through it all. Only my soul is battle scarred. I’m much thinner, but I feel fine. The weather here today was beautiful, the first nice day in weeks. I think God arranged it that way. No one seems to know what is going to happen. I’m just praying.”
On May 8, Henry Triesler of the Fifth Army, in Italy, wrote home to his family in Hagerstown, Maryland. “Today we heard the news. The beaten Wehrmacht has surrendered. Tonight there is no celebration. This is being taken so quietly, because the speedy end has been inevitable.”
Some soldiers in the Pacific expressed concern that people on the home front would quit their war jobs now that the fighting in Europe had ceased. The Editor of the Norfolk Ledger-Dispatch stated, “The nation and our allies cannot possibly forget that the defeat of Germany is only part of a duty to which we have committed ourselves. A job remains to be done. A price remains to be paid.”
People on the home front generally received the news of peace very stoically and wondered what would be next for their loved ones overseas. Maggie Searle wrote to her husband Preston on May 6, “So, do you think you’ll get to come home? To stay? Furlough? Pacific? Occupation? Write me a long letter and tell me some things.”
On May 13, Maggie reminded Preston of some of the hardships of the home front. “Our people have suffered too, the loss of loved ones, and don’t you forget that. Naturally, the people rejoiced to hear Germany was beaten. American women want to help. Prices are high here Preston, terribly high. The ordinary middle class men and women make just enough to make ends meet; butter is a luxury, eggs are scarce, to mention a few. Sure, we all complain, but who gives you your guns, your planes, your tanks, your ammunition, and even the clothes on your back? I don’t want to hear any more talk about your people failing you. I thought you had more sense than that. I’ll do my celebrating when I feel your arms around me once again.”
Labor leaders encouraged American workers to keep up the fight. AFL President William Green implored workers by stating, “American soldiers of production cannot afford to pause or falter until the entire job is completed and final victory achieved.” CIO President Philip Murray said, “The courage, patience and superb fighting qualities of our sons and brothers in the fighting forces must still be backed up on the home front. This is no time to quit buying war bonds. For many months yet ahead of us, we must help to meet the payrolls and to pay the food and supply bills of those great fighters of whom we are so justly proud.”
Acting Senate Democratic Leader Hill (Ala) pronounced, “This is a day when you and I and every American can sincerely rejoice… The defeat of the Nazi is an achievement made possible by the unity of freedom-loving peoples. Let us give thanks to the God of our fathers that He has given us the strength and the courage to defeat one of the enemy that sought the destruction of our way of life and the enslavement of our people.”
V-E Day was complicated and those who lived through it experienced a variety of emotions. President Truman celebrated his 61st birthday. Sporting events in the United States took place, unlike on D-Day. The soldiers reflected on their war experiences and wondered what was next. On the home front, Americans quietly celebrated and longed for the day when their loved ones would return home. Many continued to work in the factories and invest in bonds during the 7th and final bond drive. Some soldiers remained on duty in occupied Europe. Others prepared for the invasion of Japan that thankfully never occurred. Mainly, the generation that liberated Europe, just wanted to come home.
Written by James Triesler, BOBA member and Director of Education, Virginia War Memorial
Major Henry Triesler, 5th Army in Italy
Street scenes of a German town with white surrender flags hanging out of windows. Photo from Frank Chupashka of the 10 ARMD.
Vincent Winter of the 735th Railway Operating Battalion.
First page of letter Maggie Searle wrote on May 13, 1945
This article was taken from the maps, memoirs, and memories of Sgt. Charles Harman, Tank Commander, father of Gail Larke, BOBA recording secretary, and was compiled by Ken Larke.
The 95th began January 1, 1942 at Fort Knox, Kentucky. At the end of February, they were sent to Camp Cooke, California, to help for a possible attack on the West coast.
“I joined the Division from Fort Custer, Michigan in July 1942 when they were on desert maneuvers in the Mojave Desert. Started training with T-19’s and then drew our new M-7 tanks. Then we were off to Pine Camp, Tennessee for more maneuvers, and 90 days of intensive training. Next stop Indiantown, Pennsylvania in late November. Right, more combat training. January 1944, we were on our way to Camp Kilmer, New Jersey. We were there one day, and with all our gear on our backs, we were shuttled across the bay, passed the Statue of Liberty, and on board the USS Edmund B. Alexander for our destination England. Then on to Perham Downs, Wiltshire where we were billeted in the barracks of the Royal Tank Corps. After more training at Tilshead on the Salisbury Plain. We were here when we heard about the June 6th D-Day invasion. We then headed to Southhampton for the next wave across the channel in July. We watched as they loaded tank after tank on the ship. I remember we were strafed once by a German plane, but made it safely to Utah beach in late July 1944.
We were bivouacked at SaintSauveur-le-Vicomte waiting for our battle assignment. The devastation of the D-Day invasion was all around us. We were still picking up an occasional German POW. Our first battle was the first week of August 1944 at Avranches. Shot down three German planes and headed through the hedgerows. At Saint-Aignan we locked horns with the Ninth Panzer Division and pushed them back. We then met up with the Canadians and another battle with the Jerrys at LeMesle.
By August 30th we had reached Paris. Finally, we were able to cross the Oise River and push on to the Belgian border at Conde on September 3rd, 1944. Instead of going on to Brussels, we were ordered to drive out some Germans from the Duchy of Luxembourg. Within a period of two days, the Germans were cleared out of Luxembourg. What a welcome we received from the people of Belgium and Luxembourg!
The weather was great, and we had to move in close because their 88’s out-ranged our 105’s, but the P-47’s above us were our guardian angels. On September 13th, we were facing the Siegfried Line opposite Wallendorf and fired our initial rounds on German soil. We were in Germany on September 15th. The Germans weren’t ready to give up and pushed us back to our previous position on September 19th. We now knew we were in for a real battle. After France, Belgium, and Luxembourg where we fought for miles, we were now fighting for yards. Late in November, we entered the bloodiest battle thus far: Hurtgen Forest. Everything was difficult: Weather, thick forests, dirt paths like rivers of mud, and then snow. We provided support for our troops who fought through Kliehau, Brandenburg, and Bergstein. After Hurtgen we expected a rest period, not so….The Bulge.
We were ordered south to the Roetgen, Germany area to provide support for a possible attack on the Roer River Dams. It was a quagmire getting our 25-ton M-7’s into position. On the night of December 16th, the Luftwaffe made an appearance and paratroopers were dropping all around us. We killed and captured many that fell in our area. The next morning, we learned that General Von Rundstedt had launched a counter attack against our weaker defenses in the Ardennes. Our Division was ordered to fall back to positions near Eupen, Belgium to protect road blocks against advancing German panzer divisions. The name of our tank was “Alibaba and the 7 Thieves”, probably because we picked up a lot of souvenirs along the way. It was at one of these crossroads that we saw General Patton come by, and he asked us who was Alibaba in that @#$*&%$#@ tank! We all pointed to the other guy. We didn’t have it as bad as our boys in Bastogne. The German Air Force hit us on many days; we averaged shooting one down per day. On one attack, I jumped from my tank and my foot got caught in the camouflage netting. There I was upside down with bullets all around me. I wasn’t hit, but my guys thought I was dead; embarrassing, but could have been worse. Near the end of the campaign we moved to support the crossing of the Roer River. We dug in at Ederen, Germany with our M-7’s only 1500 feet from the front lines waiting for orders. Finally, on February 23rd, we got the orders and at 2:45 am in the space of four hours, we shot 3,000 rounds of ammunition: Operation “Grenade”. From there, we battled our way toward the Rhine.
On the morning of April 1st, we were ordered to support CCR at the Weser River. We experienced heavy resistance at Herford, Germany from the anti-tank guns. We destroyed ten 88’s, and killed or captured all their personnel. On the afternoon of April 8th, we crossed the Weser on our way to the Elbe River, through the town of Hamlin (Piped Piper fame). We were reinforced by the 695th AFAB, and fought some 500 SS troops near Springe. Between us and the Airforce, we completely destroyed the city. The Germans were giving up by the hundreds. Next, at Hannover, we had lots of action. We finally reached the Elbe River where we waited for the Russians. On April 26th, we left CCR and joined Division Artillery under XIII Corps control. Then on May 2nd, we met the Russians at the Elbe.
On May 7th, orders came to cease all offensive operations. That joyous hour throughout the world came and went for us with excitement. We played ball and pursued our normal duties, but deep down inside, we all felt a sense of relief, joy, and profound happiness. We reminisced a great deal on that momentous day; our thoughts were of those who were no longer with us to see this joyful hour, and we wondered what the future held for us. Was it the Pacific?”
Please welcome new member Jake Larson to the Battle of the Bulge Association!
Jake is 97 years old and loves going to The Bagel Street Cafe in Martinez, CA every morning. It is the highlight of his day. He’s had this routine for approximately 20 years now. Local residents will drop in and pull up a chair and join him for coffee and conversation. Everyone in town seems to knows Jake. He definitely has a fan club. He can still tell a great story and he has a great sense of humor. Jake loves children. He gives a quarter to any child who comes in so they can try their luck at the gumball machine. If they get a green gumball, the storeowner gives them 6 free bagels! The children run to him and give him hugs and kisses – especially when they can give their parents 6 bagels!
I learned of Jake through the local coordinator of the Honor Flights. I took the opportunity to join Jake at Bagel Street in January. I saw him in action. It was amazing. He welcomed me into his ‘club.’ I met some of his ‘fans.’ Very nice people.
A little background about Jake:Jake was born on a farm in Hope, MN (population 100) in December, 1922. The town had a creamery, a bank, two small grocery stores, a post office, pool hall with a bar and a few houses. He said he was ‘born a farmer.’ He had to travel 14 miles to school in Owatonna, MN. He started high school at age 12. He entered the National Guard in 1938 at age 15 to earn a little money (he earned $12 every 3 months). This helped him earn his room and board where he was living while going to school. He and his buddy lied about their ages (the required age at that time was 18). He had “Guard” every Monday night for 2 hours during his high school years and graduated in 1940 at age 17. He continued in the National Guard (34th Inf. Div, 135th Inf. Rgt) after graduation. On 10 Feb 1941, the National Guard became the US Army. On 7 Dec 1941, Pearl Harbor was attacked. At that time, Corporal Jake was a company clerk at Camp Claiborne, LA with the anticipation of being discharged in Jan 1942. Needless to say, his luck changed because of the attack.
After returning from a furlough, his commanding officer assigned him to the ‘wire section’ (climbing poles and stringing wires) and he was sent to Ft. Dix, NJ to await overseas transportation. He left the US on the Aquitannia around March 1942 and arrived to Belfast, Scotland. From there, he was transferred to Londonberry on a small ship and eventually arrived to Armaugh and then to Lurgan, Ireland (where the V Corps was located). The 34th Division became under the command of the V Corps. They recognized his talents and assigned him to G3 (plans and training). Eventually, he advanced to become an Operations Sergeant. He went to Bristol and then to Tautan, England and was there for about a year. He was chosen by a Colonel to accompany him to Portsmouth, England to take part in planning the invasion of Normandy. He advanced to the rank of a Sergeant in the V Corps. The First Army returned from Africa and took over the V Corps. Before he realized it, he was in training again with the First Army in Slapton Sands and as part of his training, arrived on a LST (Landing Ship Tank) in a ‘mock invasion’ and nearly lost his life because two German E boats found out about the practice invasion. Two of the LSTs (carrying 795 soldiers) were annihilated and Jake’s LST made it through but barely. This mock invasion was just one month before D-Day.
The First Army was in charge of the invasion of Omaha and Utah Beaches. The V Corps invaded Omaha Beach and Jake was involved in this invasion. He had many close calls during his service which included the Battle of the Bulge. He promises to share stories with me in the future. In fact, he is working with an author on his book that will be titled “The Luckiest Man in The World.” The book will be available later this year.
He was quite the traveler in 2019. He went to Europe in June for the D-Day Anniversary and in December for the anniversary of the Battle of the Bulge. He also took an Honor Flight in September 2019 with his grandson Daniel Moldovan. He enjoyed every trip. He holds fond memories of the warm welcome that he received in Europe and when he returned from the Honor Flight. He said ‘I’m not a ‘hero’ – I’m ‘here to’ tell you my story and honor all of those men and women who didn’t return.
On September 21 and 22, 2019, the town of Ettelbruck celebrates 75 years of liberation from Nazi occupation. Ally Troops liberated Ettelbruck twice in 1944, first on September 11th and then again on the 25th of December. The General Patton Museum, in collaboration with the ‘Groupe de Recherches et d’Etudes sur la Guerre 1940-1945’ (G.R.E.G.) and the generous help of the municipality of Ettelbruck, organizes a Remembrance Day in honor of the 1944 liberations of Ettelbruck.
If by any chance you are in possession of photos, articles, letters from your grandparents or any other objects in connection to Ettelbruck’s liberation or the Battle of the Bulge, we would highly appreciate if you could put those at our disposal for the festivities.
For the Remembrance Day celebrations, the Hotel Dahm in Erpeldange is offering a special accommodation price to anyone taking part. You can make use of this offer by simply referring to the Patton Museum when booking or requesting rates, as soon as possible.
The hotel is situated approximately 10 minutes by car from Ettelbruck, and alternatively offers easy and fast public transport solutions to Ettelbruck.
Contact details for the hotel: Phone: (00352) 816255 1; E-Mail: Dahm@pt.lu;
Website: www.hotel-dahm.lu
—Jos Tholl, Secretary, Patton Museum
For further information on the celebration or the museum, Contact Jos Tholl by email: patton@patton.lu; or view the website:www.patton.lu.
My name is Wim Hendriks, nationality Dutch, age 84 years. I am a member of BOBA, and live in the township Simpelveld (Netherlands, South Limburg), close to the point where the borders of Germany, Belgium and the Netherlands come together.
As a boy of 10 years old, I can still remember December 16, 1944, the day that “The Battle of Bulge” (Ardennes offensive) started. Day and night the cannon roar could be heard, and the lightening of the night sky above the Ardennes was intense. My place of residence, Simpelveld, was later (January, February 1945) a recovery and resting place for the GIs.
My question now is: Are there any veterans or relatives who remember or known the name “ Simpelveld”? Or the places Vaals, Heerlen, Kerkrade (and Aachen in Germany)? Perhaps, they may still have information about that time, such as pictures or documents.
If you have any information, please contact me by email: ahwhendriks@yahoo.de;
or mailing address below:
Wim Hendriks
Diddenstraat 23
6369 CR Simpelveld
Nederland
Thank you in advance. With kind regards, Wim Hendriks, Member
Battle of Bulge Veteran Hap Baldwin (left) with Jim Mockford portraying his grandfather, Rev. AJ Mockford.
On March 9, 2019 I stepped on to the stage of The Ralph Radio Theatre’s presentation of “Variety for Victory” a vintage radio experience of “1944 Mirth, Music and Memories” created by Producer Kimberly Poe for the charity benefit dinner program of Al Kader Shriner’s in Portland, Oregon. Ralph Radio Theatre presents an annual “Christmas from Home” holiday musical with talented actors, singers and the Dreamfire Express Band. I am not a member of the theatre troupe, but I was invited to join as a special guest, to read selected excerpts from my father Private Roger Mockford WWII letters home in 1944. I also prepared an exhibit of some of the letters and V-Mail that Dad sent to his parents, Rev. A.J. Mockford, Rector of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Oregon City and his mother, Frances, and family. My appearance on stage was in the role of my grandfather, and I wore a clerical collar to portray him. He would have been about my age at the time he received those letters from his son from ASTP at the University of Oregon and Camp Cooke in 1944, before shipping out to England, France and finally to the Battle of the Bulge in December 1944.
After Dad passed away in 2015, I found a collection of about 200 letters and V-Mail that he had written home during WWII. I began an inventory in preparation to sent them to the Veterans History Project, but as I read them, I decided to delay the submission until I could draft a manuscript about his experience in the Battle of the Bulge. In 2016, we toured Bastogne and the Ardennes battlefields, thanks to the wonderful Belgian historian and guide Roger Marquet and his wife Monique, who drove us along the trail of the 11th Armored Division’s 55th Armored Infantry Battalion C Company that my father had traveled in 1944-45. He was on foot and in combat from Margarotte to Acul, and in the snow covered-fields and forests. We traveled on country roads to many of these sites, towards Bois Jacques and back to Bastogne. I knew of some of these places from Dad’s stories told at home and at the reunions of the 11th Armored Division and Battle of the Bulge Association meetings, but after finding the treasure trove of his written letters, I had a chronology with details that corresponded to the stories he had told, and some new stories to share.
When I talked about this opportunity to travel through the letters, back into the time before Dad and his generation turned 20 years old, with Kimberly Poe, she was not only interested in the content to include in Ralph Radio Theatre, but surprised me with an invitation to play a role in the “Variety for Victory” program. It was a meaningful way for me to share a short part of Dad’s story with an audience who loved the vintage radio format with its period advertisements, radio host jokes and banter, and comedy sketches, as well as the classic songs and tunes from the 1940s. “Variety for Victory” traveled back in time for ninety-minutes, but it is too much to try to describe the entire show here. Visit Ralph Radio Theatre online to get an idea of the annual Christmas From Home musical at: ralphradiotheatre.com.
In one of the letters was a poem that Dad liked, and it captured the spirit of families at home, with loved ones afar, so I read it as part of my script in the program: We’ll keep thumbs up with pride in you Though there’s tough time to weather So on to Victory, Old Pal! We’re in this fight together
Among the Shriners in the audience enjoying the program and dinner was 93-year-old Hap Baldwin, whom I was surprised and most delighted to find out was a Battle of the Bulge Veteran in the 76th Infantry Division, and we talked about the war years that my Dad and Hap had experienced 75 years ago. I am still working on the manuscript about the letters, but I am so happy to have had the chance to share a small part of that story with Ralph Radio Theater to a local audience, and find in that audience someone who knew was it was really like to be in the Battle of the Bulge!
Jim Mockford’s father Roger J. Mockford (born December 7, 1924) was a member of Patton’s 3rd Army 11th Armored Division 55th Armored Infantry Battalion C Company 2nd Platoon 2nd Squad in the Battle of the Bulge. He was the last President of the Northwest Chapter of the 11th Armored Division Association and attended the last national convention of the 11th Armored Division at Louisville in 2010. Roger and Jim travelled on the Honor Flight to Washington D.C. in May 2015, just six months before Roger passed away, a few days before his 91st birthday in December 2015.
My association with the 8th Air Force is through the 361st Fighter Group where I was assigned as a P-51 pilot from October 1944 to July 1945. The 361st Fighter Group was credited with participation in the Battle of the Bulge. When I was young and picking strawberries on our Delaware farm, I once saw planes flying in formation, and knew they were having more fun than I was. Since then, I always wanted to fly.
On the 4th of June 1942 my sister Theresa and I graduated from Laurel High school in a class of 31. Of the fifteen boys that were in the class I can think of only three who did not enter one of the military services.
My older brother Nathan had requested two letters of recommendation so that he could volunteer for aviation cadet training. So I asked my parents to get two letters for me. With my two letters, I went to Wilmington and put in my application. In a few days I got a letter telling me to report to Fort Dix, New Jersey.
Having passed my physical, I got a letter telling me to report to the Post Office in Camden, New Jersey. There, on November 30th 1942, I was sworn in as an enlisted Private in the Reserve Corp.
After completing our six weeks of college classes we were again loaded on a train; this time with Pullman cars, which I guess does prove that a college education pays off. At the San Antonio Aviation Cadet Center, we were to go through classification and, if qualified, on to preflight training. Our classification consisted of many written tests, motor skill tests, and a visit with a psychologist or psychiatrist (I don’t know which.) All of this testing and evaluation was to determine whether you should enter pilot training, bombardier training, or navigator training. I had to go see the psychologist a second time, and he asked me why I was so nervous. I told him it was because I was afraid that he wouldn’t let me go to pilot training, and he said, “Well, if you don’t, you know it’s for your own good!” I told him, “Well, it might be, but that isn’t what I enlisted to be. I want to be a pilot.” I guess he believed me, because he passed me for pilot training, which took place at Corsicana, Texas, where we were assigned for primary flying school.
Near the end of the basic flying course you were asked to make a choice as to where you wanted to go for advanced training, and I chose pilot training. For advanced training I was sent to Aloe Field at Victoria, Texas, where I flew the AT-6. I also flew the P-40. After completing the 15-20 hours of flying time in the P-40, I finished my 200 hours of flying time, and on the 15th of April 1944, I graduated as a pilot and was promoted to Second Lieutenant. We were again loaded up on the train and took a long ride to Camp Kilmer, New Jersey, which was a staging area for the port of New York.
Meanwhile my brother, Nathan, had been eliminated from the flight training in the cadet program and had gone to gunnery school, training for the B24 prior to going to Europe. Nathan and I were later to fly several missions together for the 8th Air Force.
After 5 days of crossing the Atlantic, we arrived in Liverpool. Due to the speed at which the Mauritania could travel, we did not have an escort going across the Atlantic until we were close to the English shore. We then had some escort ships pick us up with some aircraft overhead. From Liverpool we boarded one of the quaint little trains for a trip to Goxhill, which was located on the northeast coast of England, a few miles south of a port city of Hull, where shipyards and dry docks were located.
After completing our training at Goxhill, it was time for the pilots to be reassigned to the fighter units. We were told that if a group of us wanted to go together, we could match up our number of pilots with the number that is required for a Fighter Group, and then we could get assigned together to that unit. Some of my buddies and I were sent to the 361st fighter group.
On November the 25th 1944, I flew my first regular combat mission. It was escort to Lutzkendorf. I don’t remember exactly where that is, but it was a deep penetration mission, because we logged 5 hours 35 minutes flying time. It was our commander’s practice (Major Rew) to take the first mission for new pilots and fly them as his wing-man. I doubt there were many other squadron commanders who would trust their protection to a first mission pilot. I flew again the next day, and again the mission was escorting a radio relay ship. While we were escorting the relay ship, the fighter escort for the bombers encountered a large number of German fighters: ME 109s and FW 190s. The Group had their best day of the war destroying 23 German airplanes, probably destroying 2 others and damaging 9. We had no losses during this encounter—however, one pilot had to crash land in Holland on his way back home. Thankfully, he survived. Among those claiming victories in this encounter was my flight commander John Wilkinson and my good buddy Richard Chandler. Also claiming victories among the fellows who came from Waycross, Georgia were Robert Farney and Delmar Ford. Ford was killed later in the war, while strafing an aerodrome.
The next mission I flew was on November 30th. We were escorting B-17s that were bombing an oil refinery area north of Munich. The weather was clear, not a cloud in the sky, when the first bombers came to the target area. They were all making contrails, and before the middle of the bomb stream had passed, the clouds had completely covered the area with nothing but contrails. There was more than 1,000 B-17s on the one target. The target area was covered with a cloud of black smoke from the anti-aircraft fire. It looked like a thunderhead that was totally black. The B-17s would fly into this cloud and then they would be streaming out from the bottom or the sides, some planes on fire and some upside-down. I believe there were 49 B-17s lost on this mission. We also had about the same number of fighter plane escorts, and did not see a German airplane in the area. We did see one P-47 that came towards our formation and appeared that he wanted to join up. However, we turned towards him and he turned away. After he had gone, I realized that he did not have an external tank on the airplane, so I don’t know how he could have made it back to friendly territory with no external fuel. There was some speculation that it might have been a German flying the P-47, to pass information back to the defense units there.
My next mission was an escort of B-17s to Berlin on the 5th of December. As we approached the target area, we followed the usual practice of not being close to the bombers when they entered the flak barrage. We were well to the south of the bomber track and flying east, which gave us a good tail wind. Suddenly, three rounds of German anti-aircraft fire burst between me and the lead ship, and three more burst between the lead ship and the plane flying in the number three position. The second volley of six rounds scored hits on two of our aircraft, but not enough to cause them to discontinue the mission. When the first rounds went off, we all broke in different directions like a covey of quail. I broke to what appeared to be the thin area of the barrage, that later turned out to be further eastward. My other flight members had broken to the other direction. When the shooting stopped and I looked around, I was on the east side of Berlin and my other flight members were on the west side, and were heading westward to escort the bombers home. I had two choices. I could go to the south and go around the area where the flack was coming from, but I figured this would put me so far behind the other planes that I’d not be able to see them. The other choice was to go straight across the area and then catch up with them. I opted to do the latter. I revved up the airplane to nearly full speed, and dove down toward the cloud cover, and started across the southern part of Berlin. As soon as I reached the city limits, they started shooting at me. They were using radar-directed flak and they were firing behind me and on the right, so I started a turn to the left. They were now chasing me around in a circle. I soon figured I couldn’t keep doing this, so the next time I came out on a westerly heading, I dove down to the top of the clouds. As I pulled out on the cloud deck, the engine quit. I had run an external tank dry. Without even pulling back the throttle, I reached down and switched the fuel selector valve to an internal tank. The engine started and I went full speed after my friends and did not look back any more.
We returned to the base. After the debriefing, I approached Major Rew, who was also flying that day and leading the squadron. I said,“Major Rew, I don’t have much experience in this, but it seems to me that was pretty good shooting the Germans were doing today.” He replied, “You’re damn right it was! I think we got into instructor school on demonstration day.”
I again flew on target escort to Minden on December 6th, another escort mission to Bingen on December 10th, and again on December 12th to Hannau. The next day, the very bad winter weather, for which the Battle of the Bulge was to become famous, began. My next combat mission was on the 18th of December, when I flew a fighter sweep at the Laacher Lake Bonn-Aachen area. The weather was so bad over Germany that I don’t think the bombers flew their scheduled bombing mission. There was no activity in the vicinity, so near the end of our mission, someplace in the south of Aachen, we let down through the clouds and broke out below at 6,000 to 8,000 feet. We could see the ground from there and when a group of flashes appeared, one of our pilots, I believe it was Herbert Dixon, said, “Hey, guys, look! See the flashes—they’re bombing through the clouds.” The rest of us knew what the flashes were, and we started our evasive maneuvers, but Dixon was on the radio talking, and nobody could tell him that is was not bombs but 88 millimeter anti-aircraft guns that were shooting at us. Dixon got a piece of shrapnel through his canopy, and we quickly went back into the clouds and departed the area. That was only the third day of the Battle of the Bulge. Normally the 88 millimeter anti-aircraft would not have shot at us at that altitude, because the fighters, with a dispersed formation and frequently changing directions and altitude, were not a good target. However, with the Battle of the Bulge just starting, I could think they probably wanted to shoot and chase us away, which they did.
During the last half of December, 1944, and most of January, the weather was terrible. We had a large snowstorm, large for English standards, and several days of ice and fog. Whenever the weather was suitable, we flew only to check out new pilots or fly some test flights that needed to be flown after major engine work. We had Lyle L. Jewel from Michigan join our flight in December. The squadron got three new replacements in the first week of January, and two of those were killed on the first flight. Both deaths were attributed somewhat to weather conditions.
About the first of February, we all moved from Little Walden over to our new base in Belgium at Chièvres. On the 6th of February I flew my first combat mission from Belgium, and during the month flew a total of seven missions. The mission I remember the most was on February the 22nd, when the group went out in two sections. One section was escorting B-26s that were attacking communications centers and rail yards. The other section was strafing the same targets. I was in the section escorting the B-26s. However, I was also on the same radio channel with the fellows doing the strafing. I heard—midway through the mission—my friend Chandler call his flight leader as he came off a target, and he was said, “Hey, Latimer, I’m having trouble keeping up. Slow up a little.” The flight leader replied, “Okay, I’ll throttle back.” A few seconds later, Chandler said, “I still can’t catch up with you. There’s something desperately wrong here!” That made me chuckle, because I had seldom heard Chandler use a three syllable word—however, I knew he was in trouble. One of the other members said, “Hey Chandler, I think you’d better check. I think you’re on fire.” He checked his gauges and said, “Yeah, I believe so.” The flight leader exclaimed, “You’d better bail out, Chandler!” He replied, “Well I don’t know how I’m going to get out, but I’m going to try!” From about 12,000 feet, he rolled the plane over on its back, jettisoned his canopy, fell out, and delayed opening his parachute. When the chute opened, he made one swing and hit the ground. He picked up the parachute in his arms and ran into the woods nearby. Chandler later told me that by hiding in the woods during the daytime, and walking at nighttime, he evaded capture for three days. However, he spent the rest of the war in prison camp.
Sometime in February, our flight leader John Wilkinson, who had now been promoted to Captain, finished his tour and rotated home. Since I was now the senior pilot in the flight that did not have an assigned airplane, I was assigned to fly his plane, “Pretty One the III.” I don’t know how that name came to be, but I didn’t want to change the name, because it was sometimes considered unlucky if you changed the name of an airplane. The crew chief on the plane was Ross Benson from Idaho. He not only kept the plane performing perfectly, but it was also spotlessly clean. Having confidence in the airplane, and having a clean canopy and windshield ,made flying combat missions much easier.
When we went to a briefing for a mission, we were given a 3” x 4” preprinted form, on which we entered much of the data we would need to complete the mission. After the flight, starting about the first of March, I wrote notes on the back of the form as to what went on during the mission. I still have eight to ten of those forms.
I had learned that my brother Nathan was also in the 2nd Air Division, and was a gunner in the 392nd Bomb Group at Wendling. As it turned out, Nathan had finished his tour of 30 missions on the lead crew, and had rotated back to the states before we knew that we had flown some missions together. I have an account of his last mission on March 3rd, when we were flying escort for his group. For that mission, we had a briefing at 7:00 for a 7:41 takeoff. It was snowing a little, with some low cumulus clouds. On takeoff, Young’s engine quit, but he was able to stop on the runway and he was not hurt. After takeoff, Rizzio joined the flight to replace someone who had aborted. After a late takeoff, we went north like the “hammers of hell” and overshot the rendezvous with the bombers. When there was a break in the under cast, we were over the Baltic Sea, in sight of the mountains of Sweden. Finally, we caught the bombers, Silvertail B-24s, a few minutes before target time. There were German jet aircraft in the area that Mac and I chased but couldn’t catch, even while going 400 MPH! I fired on two from well out of range and didn’t observe any results. During the mission, I saw two bombers collide and one spinning down over the target. This was the first time I saw parachutes from bombers going down. The flak was described as better than yesterday, meaning that it was better from the German point of view.
Several days later, I received a letter from my brother Nathan saying that the March 3rd mission to Magnaburg was his 30th and final mission of his tour. The public information people made a newspaper story of it, in which they described it as Nathan having his big brother flying escort. They missed the point: that Nathan was nine years older than I. Magnaburg was considered about the second most difficult target, with only Berlin being a more difficult one. I have recently talked with Willis Miller, who was the pilot of Nathan’s crew, and from his description of the Magnaburg mission and other missions, I’m convinced that my decision to become a fighter pilot was one of the smartest decisions that I have ever made.
During March, I flew 17 missions. Among those was on the 14th of March when Dixon, Waldusky, and I were scheduled to fly combat air patrol over the Remagen Bridge. We briefed at 5:40 in the morning expecting to have a sunrise takeoff. However, the fog was so thick that we could not take off until 10:20. We took off with about 800 yards of visibility ,and climbed through the fog to 3000 feet, where we were in the clear. We were under Nuthouse Control, which was the radar controller for the area, and he directed us to the Bridgehead area. Whenever they detected an unidentified aircraft, we would be directed to intercept them. In all cases, it was one of our own aircraft, usually a P-47. We flew at 10,000 feet, while below us were P-38s, which were in close because of their unusual configuration, so they would not be mistaken for German aircraft. Part of our mission was to protect the P-38s, which the Germans would attack—whereas they would not provoke a fight with the P-51s. The Germans were also trying to sneak aircraft in, to bomb the bridge that had been captured, and also the pontoon bridges that, by this time, had been placed across the Rhine River.
On the 22nd of March, we had a mission to escort about 200 British Lancaster Bombers on a daylight raid, to bomb marshalling yards in the town of Hildershime. It was a perfectly clear day, and they were flying in their typical British gaggle of individual planes, following a pathfinder at about 8,000 feet. The British theory of bombing was: if you wanted to destroy the marshalling yard that was in a town, if you destroy the town, you’d probably destroy the marshalling yard—which they proceeded to do. There was such widespread destruction from 10,000-pound bombs and a mixture of small incendiaries, that by the time the last 30-40 bombers came, there were no military targets left. The fires were so widespread that when we dropped escort in the vicinity of Brussels, which was about 200 miles away, we could still see the smoke rising from Hildershime, and the next day, the place was still burning.
Whenever we flew escort for our bombers, we would have one squadron flying on each side of the assigned box of bombers, and one squadron flying top cover. The B-17s usually flew an altitude of 27,000 feet, and the squadron on either side would be about 27,000-28,000 feet. The top cover would fly from about 30,000 feet on up.
Whenever the Group Assistant Operations Officer flew, he did so with our flight. The more experienced pilots in our flight considered his decision-making and leadership skills somewhat questionable, and they did not like to fly with him. So I usually got the job to fly wing-man for him. One day when he was leading the squadron and we came to the target area, where we usually circle wide and pick up the bombers after they bombed, he flew right through the flak barrage. After we returned home, and at the debriefing, one of the pilots said, “Major, why did you lead us through that flak barrage?” He replied, “Oh, I thought it might raise the morale of the bomber boys if they saw us in there with them.”
While stationed in Belgium, our escort missions were usually about one hour shorter than they were from England. So we would have plenty of time, after dropping escort, to go back into Germany and look for targets of opportunity on the ground. One day when our good Major was leading us, we did this, and going across the countryside, we spotted six or eight box cars on a railroad track. He flew across the train, made a right turn, and set up a traffic pattern like we would have done at Waycross when we were doing ground gunnery, and then proceeded to come around and make a strafing run from across the open field. I was #4 in this formation, and I figured if there were anything around to stir up, they would have it stirred up good by the time I got there. So when I made my turn for the target, I sprayed the wooded area behind the train from well out of range ,and when I got into gunnery range of about 300 yards, I concentrated on the box cars. As luck would have it, it was not a flak trap as the Germans were famous for setting up.
Sometime in March, Col. Rew was replaced by Major Charles Bergman, whom I believe came from Texas. In March, I was promoted to First Lieutenant, but there were no silver bars available anyplace. So I peeled the foil off chewing gum wrappers, and wrapped it around my gold bars. That served very well, unless you scraped against something— then you would have to replace it. During March, I was very busy, as I flew 17 missions in the month. By the beginning of April, spring was arriving in Belgium. The weather was good, and the war showed signs that it would soon be over. There were very few targets available other than airfields, which were crowded with airplanes. Apparently the Germans had to retreat from airfields on both fronts, and brought their airplanes back into Germany. But they did not have fuel or pilots to fly them.
On the 9th of April, we flew an escort mission for bombers bombing the Lechfeld Airfield and recovered back at Little Walden. We went back to the poor visibility and bad weather in England, just when things were getting good in Belgium.
On the 11th of April, I flew my last mission, which was a target support in the Regensburg area. This mission made my 7th in April and made a total of 40 for the war.
NOTE: This recollection was excerpted from a much longer story of Col. Hedges’ life. He is a member of BOBA, South Carolina Chapter 7.
