company a, 276th infantry in world war ii

Transcription

COMPANY A, 276TH INFANTRY
IN WORLD WAR II
FRANK H. LOWRY
Library of Congress Catalogue Card Number 94-072226
Copyright © 1991, 1994,1995 by Frank H Lowry
Modesto, California
All rights reserved
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This writing was started in 1945 in Europe following the cessation of hostilities that
brought about an end to World War II. Many of the contributors were still together and their
wartime experiences were fresh in their memories. It is the first hand account of the men of
Company A, 276th Infantry Regiment, 70th Infantry Division which made history by living
and participating in the bitter combat of the Ardennes-Alsace, Rhineland and Central Europe
Campaigns. I humbly acknowledge my gratitude to the many veterans of those campaigns
who provided valuable contributions to this book. A special note of appreciation goes to the
following former soldiers of Company A who contributed significantly to this work.
Without their input and guidance, this book could not have been written.
Richard Armstrong, Hoyt Lakes, Minnesota
Russell Causey, Sanford, North Carolina
Burton K. Drury, Festus, Missouri
John L. Haller, Columbia, South Carolina
Daniel W. Jury, Millersburg, Pennsylvania
Lloyd A. Patterson, Molalla, Oregon
William J. Piper, Veguita, New Mexico
Arthur E. Slover, Salem, Oregon
Robert I. Wood, Dallas, Texas
The assistance of Edmund C. Arnold, author and Chester F. Garstki,
photographer of “The Trailblazers,” was very helpful in making it possible to illustrate and
fit the military action of Company A into the overall action of the 70th Infantry Division.
A word of thanks goes to Wolf T. Zoepf of Pinneberg, Germany for
providing significant combat information from the point of view of those soldiers who fought
on the other side.
Eddie Tsukimura of San Pedro, California and Peter W. (Tex) Bennet of
San Antonio, Texas provided the art work and sketches which vividly depict the life, moods
and experiences of the combat infantryman.
Frank H Lowry
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This work is dedicated to my comrades-in-arms, all of
those combat infantrymen of Company A, 276th
Infantry Regiment, who fought on the distant
battlefields of France and Germany in 1944 and 1945.
It is especially dedicated to the memory of those
thirty-four young men who made the supreme
sacrifice by giving their lives for the cause of freedom.
They rest forever among their fallen comrades in
graves under white crosses and stars at Epinal and St.
Avold, France and throughout the United States.
May they rest in peace.
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S/Sgt. Frank H. Lowry
Germany 1945
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CONTENTS
FOREWORD . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
1. THE TRAILBLAZERS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5
2. PORT OF EMBARKATION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15
3. USS WEST POINT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21
4. FRANCE -- DELTA BASE CP-2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31
5. FORTY AND EIGHTS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37
6. OUTPOSTING THE RHINE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43
7. OPERATION NORDWIND . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61
8. WINGEN-SUR-MODER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69
9. LES VOSGES - HILLS 403 AND 358 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119
.
10. LORRAINE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 157
11. OETING . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 175
12. FORBACH . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 181
13. FORAY IN THE FOREST . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 215
14. MARCH INTO THE UNKNOWN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 223
15. VICTORY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 231
FIFTY YEARS LATER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 241
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APPENDIX I
MEN OF COMPANY A, 276TH INFANTRY REGIMENT
KILLED IN ACTION OR DIED OF WOUNDS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 263
APPENDIX II
COMPANY A, 276TH INFANTRY REGIMENT
COMPANY ROSTER December 31,1944 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 265
APPENDIX III
Recollections of Wolf T. Zoepf, 12th Regiment, 6th SS Mountain
Division (NORD): . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 271
GLOSSARY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .275
INDEX. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 277
BIBLIOGRAPHY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 283
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FOREWORD
The brotherhood of COMBAT INFANTRYMEN included a cross section
of ordinary young citizens from every corner and crossroads of the United States.
They were very young, mostly between the age of nineteen and twenty-three. They
were the weary, unshaven, mud-slogging dog face soldiers with sore feet and aching
backs. The grunts of the Army. They did not resemble the lads who a short time
before were either at home or on the farm wearing civilian clothes and perhaps
attending high school dances and football games, going to college, playing sports, or
working at their first jobs. Not only their appearances changed but their thinking
was transformed from that of paving the way for their future to that of existing in the
present. Those young men willingly made many sacrifices and put their freedoms on
hold so that they could ensure that future generations of Americans would enjoy the
freedoms made possible by the bloodshed of their forefathers.
There were many good ones and some bad ones, smart ones and a few not so
smart, doers and goldbricks, and leaders and followers. All were comrades-in-arms,
fighting together for the same end. In deadly combat, the infantryman's life depended
on the actions of his comrades and that nearly always brought out the good in
everyone. That bond or comradery is the primary reason that many an infantryman
survived under the tremendous physical and mental tensions that he was obligated to
deal with day after day. The bonds that he developed with his fellow men on the
battlefield so many years ago remain with him to the grave.
The infantryman was compelled to exist, face death and die on far away
battlefields of snow, ice, rain, mud, din and stench. He slept fitfully on the hard cold
COMPANY A 276TH INFANTRY
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FOREWORD
ground or often in a foxhole. He exercised every means at his disposal to kill or
maim his enemy, yet he was not nor would he become a killer per se. The man who
experienced brutal combat, the smell of gunsmoke and the stench of death does not
care to see or participate in violence again. His goals were to carry out his mission
to the best of his ability, see the fighting end and return to the life he left behind. He
started out hating no one, but when he saw his best friend killed, he hated the men
who did it. After it was all over, the hate was gone. Destiny placed him where
eyeball to eyeball confrontation with the enemy took place and left him to use his
own judgment whether to fight or die, kill or be killed. Perilous situations were
commonplace but he rarely avoided them for fear of further jeopardizing the lives of
his comrades. He was more disposed to protecting his fellow men than he was to
saving his own life.
The Combat Infantryman's experiences were so horrible that when the war
was over, he wanted to totally forget about his role in the brutal carnage, death and
bloodshed. When he returned home, he refused to talk about his battle experiences
because it brought back bitter memories and he felt incapable of adequately relating
his experiences. He sensed that no words could make anyone grasp the horror and
inhumanity that was commonplace on the battlefield without their actually having
been there; not only to witness, but to experience the terror, endure the constant pain,
hear the deafening gunfire and cries of the wounded, see friends being blown to
pieces, and smell the sickening stench of the dead. Only those who have lived it can
ever know what it was truly like. The Combat Infantryman learned to fight and kill,
yet as hard as he fought, he did not return home with a chip on his shoulder. He had
his share of violence and longed to put it all in the past.
When engaged in combat, the foot soldier was only aware of the military
action that took place in his immediate proximity. Most often he had no reliable
concept of the "big picture." Seldom did he know how and to what extent his squad,
platoon or company fit into the general military objectives of the battalion, regiment,
division, corps or army. For all he knew, the entire war was taking place within a
few yards of his foxhole. The squad leader, platoon sergeant and platoon leader were
cognizant of very little more than were their men. At times those leaders were hardly
aware of enough about what was happening to effectively lead their units in
executing orders passed down to them from higher military authority.
From the time the combat soldier disembarked on foreign shores, he seldom
had access to newspapers or radios; consequently his knowledge of the progress of
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FOREWORD
the war was never up to date and was sketchy at best. His main source of information
was the Armed Services Newspaper Stars and Stripes. On the front lines, copies
were infrequently available and were often received long after they were printed.
Author Bill Mauldin's famous cartoons depicting two grubby GIs, Willie and Joe,
were very popular with the soldiers. A Mauldin cartoon was often the first thing a
man looked for when he got his hands of a copy of Stars and Stripes. Mail from
home was by far the most important reading material and morale builder that reached
the men at the front. They were starved for something to read and often passed
around months-old hometown newspapers.
Most of the time the infantryman did not know where in the world he was, but
perhaps later found out where he had been. Troop movements were made by truck
or on foot, without advance notice, and usually under the cover of darkness. Thus,
the infantryman was nearly always left without the faintest idea of his location or
destination. The names of French, Belgium and German villages and locales meant
little or nothing to one who was unfamiliar with the geography. Those were, for the
most part, "far away places with strange sounding names." He was forever
preoccupied with enemy action, the bitter elements, sore feet, aching backs, and
countless other discomforts, that he had no time to concern himself with his
geographical location.
During World War II, approximately 15 percent of the soldiers in the Army
served in line companies of infantry regiments. All other units and service forces
directly or indirectly rendered support to the efforts of the combat infantrymen who
were charged with meeting, closing and destroying the enemy, and taking and
holding ground. This small percentage of men assumed nearly all the risks of the
ground forces and sustained most of the casualties. More than 81 percent of the
Army ground battle deaths were sustained by the combat infantrymen and medical
aid men who served with the infantry companies.
This book is about an infantry rifle company that fought against the armed
enemy in the European Theater of Operations during World War II. It is a factual
account of the experiences of young American men who bore the brunt of the war on
the firing line during the Ardennes-Alsace (Battle of the Bulge and Operation
Nordwind), Rhineland, and Central Europe Campaigns. They were the Combat
Infantrymen of Company A, who answered the call of "Uncle Sam" and put their
lives on the line for a cause the entire country believed in. Those men fought in
some of the fiercest and bloodiest battles that American military forces encountered
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FOREWORD
during the most devastating war the world had ever known. They confronted a
determined, ruthless, powerful, and dedicated enemy on unfamiliar ground in the
worst possible weather conditions.
S/Sgt. Arnold “Red Shelander
Pfc Odis Brown
T/Sgt. Oliver Galloway
Pfc Joseph Kuffersin, Sgt. Carl Earnstauffer and
Pfc Odis Brown
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FOREWORD
1. THE TRAILBLAZERS
The 70th Infantry Division was activated at Camp Adair
in the Willamette Valley of Oregon on June 15, 1943,
appropriately on the date celebrated as Infantry Day. Officers
and men were drawn from the 91st Infantry Division stationed
at Camp White, Oregon to form the nucleus and cadre of the
new division. During April and May 1943, troops arrived by
rail from Army installations and reception centers throughout
the Country to fill the ranks. The United States War Department activated the 70th Infantry Division at the time the State
of Oregon celebrated the Centennial of the Oregon Trail. It was only fitting that this
new division was named the TRAILBLAZER Division. The Oregonians were
proud to have an infantry division formed in their State and were quick to claim the
70th as Oregon's Own.
Photo by Garstki
The Trailblazer insignia, which the men proudly wore
on their left shoulders, was designed in the shape of an axe
head on a red background. Superimposed on the red background were a white axe, a green fir tree, and a white replica
of Oregon's snow-covered Mt. Hood. Each element of the
insignia portrayed a message. The axe head shape and the
white axe were commemorative of the original Oregon
Trailblazers, who one hundred years earlier, blazed their way
over the Oregon Trail from Missouri to the Pacific Northwest.
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THE TRAILBLAZERS
A green fir tree was the insignia of the 91st Infantry Division (Fir Tree Division),
from which the initial cadre of the Trailblazer Division was drawn. The replica of
Mount Hood represented a prominent landmark in the State of Oregon. Mount Hood,
11,245 feet above sea level and clearly visible from Portland, sixty miles to the west,
was a beacon for the original Oregon Trailblazers. The 70th Infantry Division's
theme song, which the Division Band played while the men marched in parades and
reviews, was "Oh! Susanna." Major General John E. Dahlquist, the division’s first
commander, loved and respected the infantryman and was responsible for setting up
an excellent training program.
The Division's fifteen thousand officers and men comprised three infantry
regiments, the 274th (Battle Axe),275th (Eagle), 276th (Bloody Axe) and many
essential support battalions and companies. The combat elements of each regiment
included an antitank company, a cannon company and three infantry battalions. Each
battalion had three rifle companies and a heavy weapons company each of which
included 81mm mortars and heavy 30 caliber machine guns. Each rifle company had
three rifle platoons and a light weapons platoon and each rifle platoon was made up
of three twelve man squads of riflemen.
Company A ("Able Company" or "A Company") was a rifle company in the
First Battalion of the 276th Infantry Regiment. The T/O (Table of Organization) of
a rifle company called for 187 enlisted men and six officers. The Company
Commander was usually a Captain. Company Headquarters staff included an
executive officer who was a 1st Lieutenant, a 1st/Sgt., a mess sergeant, four cooks,
a supply sergeant, two runners, an armorer-articifer, a communication sergeant,
radiomen, two jeep drivers, a mail clerk, and a company clerk. One jeep driver was
also the company bugler. Each platoon leader was a 2nd Lieutenant and each platoon
sergeant was a Technical Sergeant (T/Sgt.). In the rifle platoons each squad leader
was a Staff Sergeant (S/Sgt.) and the assistant squad leader was a Sergeant. Since the
squad was the smallest fighting unit in the infantry, the squad leader had the final
responsibility for leading the individual infantrymen in combat. He was ultimately
responsible for assuring that the men in his squad executed the orders that he received
through the chain of command. It was the squad leader who led and directed the
riflemen who risked their lives while carrying out the most hazardous duties in the
Army. A rifle squad generally included two scouts, a BAR man (Browning
Automatic Rifleman), an ammunition bearer for the BAR man, and six other
riflemen. One rifleman in each squad carried either a rocket launcher (bazooka), a
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THE TRAILBLAZERS
sniper’s rifle, or a rifle grenade launcher. All others, except the BAR man, were
armed with M-1 semiautomatic rifles, bayonets and hand grenades.
The weapons platoon included a machine gun section and a mortar section.
The machine gun section had two squads of light 30 caliber machine guns and the
mortar section had three squads of 60mm mortars. The section leaders were Staff
Sergeants and the squad leaders were Sergeants. The men in the weapons platoon
were generally armed with M-1 carbines.
Men assigned to Company A came from all parts
of the country and from U.S. Possessions and Territories. Included in its ranks were two volunteers of
Japanese heritage, Eddy Tsukimura and Hidemaru
(Johnnie) Yasutaki, and two native Hawaiians, William
Kaimi and Samuel Kalahiki. There were farmers, ranchhands, merchants, clerks, mechanics, truck drivers,
laborers, coal miners, factory workers, teachers, bank
tellers, college students, salesmen, young men right out
of high school, and many others. They were very young.
Pfc William Kaimi - August 1945
The majority were between the ages of eighteen and
twenty-three, however there were a few in their late
twenties and early thirties. With the exception of the cadre, most men came to the
70th Infantry Division as new recruits. Others came from Infantry Basic Training
Camps and various branches of the Army such as Coast Artillery Corps, Air Corps,
ASTP (Army Specialized Training Program), and Antiaircraft Artillery. They all
became infantrymen through extensive training by the seasoned cadre from the 91st
Infantry Division. Included in the original cadre were 1st/Sgt. Palacio, T/Sgt.
Galloway, T/Sgt. Ethredge, T/Sgt. Wagger, S/Sgt. Causey, S/Sgt. Powers and a few
others. Capt. Curtis A Brooks was Company A's first commanding officer.
For nearly a year, Camp Adair was home to the Trailblazers. During that
period, many men received their basic training and became infantrymen. Upon
completion of their training, many of those new soldiers were taken from the 70th
Division and sent to overseas units as replacements. More than once when the
training programs neared completion, the Division received orders to transfer many
of its privates to a replacement pool for overseas units. Then, the process of training
started anew. For those who remained with the Division from the time of activation,
some had the dubious opportunity of going through basic training more than once.
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THE TRAILBLAZERS
Several weeks after the first contingent of privates left the 70th Infantry
Division, the war was suddenly brought home to the Trailblazers. S/Sgts. Powers,
Wiley, Cook and Swagger and others began to receive disturbing letters from the
Pacific. Several of their recent trainees were killed, wounded or missing in action.
That news brought tears to the eyes of the sergeants.
Infantry training was rigorous. It took place in and around the post and in
bivouac areas away from the post in the countryside. The days in garrison began with
the bugler sounding reveille at five a.m. and morning chow call an hour later. During
the first hour of the day, the men shaved, showered, made up their bunks, scrubbed
the floors and cleaned the latrines. After breakfast, the men fell out for calisthenics
and close order drill. Running the obstacle course was an exhausting daily routine.
The obstacle course was an exercise which involved running and climbing with rifles
and packs through a designated course of obstacles such as barricades, truck tires,
barbed wire, hurdles, walls, and other ingenious devices. They climbed hand over
hand clinging to ropes up walls and over pools of muddy water. They crawled under
barbed wire through mud or dust and at the same time learned to keep their weapons
clean and dry. The men were indoctrinated to live fire by going through infiltration
courses which involved crawling on their bellies or backs through mud and under
barbed wire while live machine gun rounds passed barely twenty-four inches over
their heads. The flaming tracers whizzing by served as a constant reminder that
deadly machine gun bullets were directly overhead. For obvious reasons, everyone
was admonished not to rise up or stand when they were going through the infiltration
course. They were taught to cope with poison gas by the proper use of gas masks.
Everyone had to pass the test by going into a tear gas chamber and at the sound of a
warning, stop breathing, shut their mouths and eyes, and put on the masks.
Endless hours were spent on the rifle range where everyone learned to fire the
M-1 Rifle with speed and accuracy. No one will ever forget the sergeant shouting
"Ready on the right! -- Ready on the left! -- Ready on the firing line! -- Commence
firing!" or the infamous red flag (Maggie's Drawers) waving from the pits when one
missed the target. Men who never before handled or discharged a firearm of any
kind, learned to be highly proficient in the use of the rifle. Every infantryman was
required to qualify at least as a Marksman; however, most men of Company A
qualified as Sharpshooters and Expert Marksmen. The cadre sergeants taught them
to fire with speed and accuracy from the standing, sitting, kneeling and prone
positions, and on the run. They were able to field-strip, clean, and reassemble their
rifles in the dark or while blindfolded. All had the opportunity to become marksmen
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THE TRAILBLAZERS
with the BAR (Browning automatic
rifle). The BAR was an excellent weapon
but not many men wanted to carry one
because it weighed twice as much as the
M-1 rifle.
Several became expert
marksmen with it and some of those
received their dubious reward by being
presented with a BAR as their basic
weapon. Three such experts who became BAR men were Lloyd Patterson,
Bryan Ledoux and Jimmy Piper. In
Pfc Brian Ledoux with a BAR at Ft. Leonard Wood, Missouri
addition to the M-1 Rifle and the BAR,
everyone became familiar with the M-1 Carbine, Service 45 pistol, 60 mm mortar and
the 30 caliber light machine gun.
The Trailblazers spent many days in the field learning squad, platoon, and
company combat tactics. They became indoctrinated to overhead fire from mortars
and artillery, and observed air power demonstrations while they maneuvered on the
ground. They went on forced marches and endurance marches carrying arms and full
field packs. Twenty-five to thirty mile marches were not uncommon. In rocky
ground, they learned the fine art of digging foxholes, trenches and gun emplacements. In the field, the men learned to accurately throw live hand grenades, fire
bazookas and grenade launchers, discharge bangalore torpedoes, and use many other
infantry weapons. "Extended Order Drill," was a most exhausting exercise where
they learned to effectively use the bayonet to kill. One soon learned to be aggressive
and to kill or disable the enemy without fire power by such means as stabbing or
executing horizontal and vertical butt strokes with their rifles. Infantry training was
mental as well as physical and the cadre sergeants continuously stressed that the
rifleman must learn "to kill or be killed."
The trainees went on week-long bivouacs in the woods west of Camp Adair
where it seemed to rain most every day. On those bivouacs, they frequently
encountered poison oak vines that gave many men some very uncomfortable times.
John Haller, a rifleman in the Second Platoon, made the mistake of making a call of
nature a little too close to a poison oak patch. He wound up with what he termed the
“red ass”. That was not the last time that expression was heard coming from Haller.
If things were not going right for him, he would blurt out, "I got the red ass.” From
that time on, Haller was known as “Red Ass,” a nickname he was never to live down.
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THE TRAILBLAZERS
During July 1944, the Trailblazers
moved by rail from Camp Adair, Oregon
to Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri. Some
twenty trains were required to transport
the entire 70th Infantry Division in average loads of just under 800 men. The
route to Fort Leonard Wood was what one
might call a Reverse Oregon Trail. The
troops traveled north to Portland then east
through Spokane, Butte, Fargo, then south
through St. Paul, Springfield, St. Louis
then to Fort Leonard Wood. The troop
trains were made up largely of troop carriers which were box cars with windows,
bunks and seats. During the war the nation's rolling stock was in high demand
and everything on wheels, including many
derelicts from the railroad graveyards,
such as antiquated Pullman and chair cars,
were pressed into service. None of the
cars were air-conditioned; consequently,
after crossing the Cascades and Rocky 276 Infantry Regimental Crest at Ft. Leonard Wood, Missouri.
S/Sgt. Wiley, unidentified, and Sgt. Earnstauffer.
Mountains the windows were left open Standing:
Sitting: Sgt. Devine, Pfc Austin, S/Sgt Powers and Pfc Kufferson.
most of the time. That made for a long,
dirty, sooty ride more than half way across the country. When a train passed through
a tunnel, coal smoke from the steam locomotive drifted into the cars through the open
windows. By the time the windows were closed, the damage was done. To pass the
time, the men played poker on makeshift tables and shot craps on the floors of the
cars.
th
Fort Leonard Wood was in the Ozark Mountains 125 miles southwest of St.
Louis, near the small town of Waynesville, Missouri. The men found the Ozarks
quite different from the gentle hills of Oregon. It was hot and humid in contrast to
the cool wet weather at Camp Adair. Even the rain was different. In Oregon the rain
was soft and cool, but in Missouri it was hard-driving and often accompanied by
thunder and lightning. When an Ozark gully-washer suddenly stopped, the high
humidity made the men feel as though they were in a steam bath. Ticks, chiggers,
mosquitos and other menacing insects made a soldier's life in the field a great deal
less than comfortable.
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THE TRAILBLAZERS
At Fort Leonard Wood, the infantry training continued with great intensity.
The men engaged in extensive live-fire exercises, and a great deal more emphasis was
placed on learning to fight as a team. Many phases of the training program stressed
leadership development. That training proved to be invaluable when the men were
overseas in combat and in situations where a soldier often had to suddenly and
involuntarily “take charge.”
Many thought that the reason for the move to the Ozarks was to train in an
atmosphere more like that of the South Pacific and the China-Burma-India Theaters
of Operations. Expecting to be destined for a warm climate, they trained vigorously
in the hot humid hills of Missouri near the Big Piney River. Before the year was out,
they would find themselves locked in combat during the coldest winter Europe had
experienced in fifty years.
The final phase of the Division training program, which would have involved
combined arms maneuvers with other infantry divisions, armored divisions, tactical
air support, heavy artillery, and other support units, was cut short when the infantry
elements of the three regiments were suddenly sent overseas. Due to the heavy
casualties in France after the Normandy Invasion, infantrymen were desperately
needed on the Western Front. While the individual soldiers were all well trained at
the line company level, they were not aware that the Division lacked an essential
element of combined unit training. The aborted program deprived the higher ranking
officers of gaining experience in coordinating their unit operations with the other
arms such as armor and artillery.
It was Army policy to place new units in relatively quiet sectors of the front
with the more seasoned divisions, but that did not happen with the 70th Infantry
Division Regiments. Once in France, the infantry elements of the regiments were
formed into a task force, rushed to the front without their supporting units, and were
immediately plunged into combat against one of Hitler's most elite mountain infantry
divisions. In Northeast France they participated in stopping the last major German
offensive of the Ardennes-Alsace Campaign.
The Division's casualties amounted to 8,201 officers and men, which
represented 58.2 percent of its total ranks, or 85.4 percent of its line companies. Of
those casualties, 847 men were killed in action or died of wounds and 666 were
missing in action.
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THE TRAILBLAZERS
Thirty-four officers and men of Company A were either killed in action or
died of wounds. Four of those are buried at the United States Lorraine Military
Cemetery at St. Avold, France and eight are buried at the United States Military
Cemetery at Epinal, France. Those buried at St. Avold are: Pfc Joseph L. Kufersin,
S/Sgt. Wilburn E. Powers, Pfc Paul Robbins and M/Sgt. Neal Waite. Those
buried at Epinal are: Pfc William M. Klaeren, 2nd Lt. Richard McClintock, Pfc
Walter O. McDaniel, Pfc Arthur F. Peterson, Pvt. Theophil J. Renk, 2nd Lt.
Donald Schollander, Pfc Robert J. Shooter and Pvt. Steven Valenzuela. The
body of Sgt. John B. Cummings was never recovered. The remains of others killed
in action were returned to the United States for burial at the request of the next of kin.
One hundred forty-five men of Company A were wounded in action or injured in
combat. Several were wounded more than once. Less than a dozen did not receive
wounds or injuries that required medical attention or evacuation.
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THE TRAILBLAZERS
.
M/Sgt. Neal Waite, S/Sgt. Virgil Cook and S/Sgt.
Wiley
Pvt. Bill Carello
T/Sgt. Jury, Pvt. Mednick, Pfc Johnson, Sgt. Sbrocco, and Pfc Lackey.
13
THE TRAILBLAZERS
Pfc Carlos Leija and Pfc Eugene Davis
S/Sgt. Ollie Davis and Sgt. Robert McGinn
14
THE TRAILBLAZERS
2. PORT OF EMBARKATION
The men of the 70th Infantry Division had been undergoing intensive training
at Camp Adair and Fort Leonard Wood for more than a year. They participated in
hypothetical battles, maneuvers and field problems on the wet forests and green
farmlands of Oregon and in the hot humid Ozarks of Missouri. The Trailblazers,
having undergone extensive training, were lean and tough, mentally alert, combat
qualified, fit to fight and ready to go! They bid farewell to Ft. Leonard Wood,
Missouri on November 22, 1944, and set out on troop trains to an undisclosed
destination on the Eastern Seaboard. The rifle and heavy weapons companies were
fully equipped and the manpower was at T/O strength.
Earlier Captain Brooks was transferred to Battalion Headquarters to fill the
position of S-3 (Plans and Training). Captain Dean Hendrickson became the CO
and1st Lt. Howard L Arnest became the XO (Executive Officer). Some of the
noncommissioned officers were apprehensive about going overseas with a new CO
and EO whom no one knew; however, that was the Army way and the men took what
came. With the exception of two sergeants, none of the company officers and
noncommissioned officers were combat veterans. T/Sgt. Robert Brewer had fought
against the Japanese on the Island of Attu in the Aleutian Islands. Sgt. Earl "Stupe"
Granger was stationed in The Territory of Hawaii and was wounded when the
Japanese attacked the Hawaiian Islands on December 7, 1941. He later fought in the
battle for Guadalcanal where he was wounded a second time. Little did he know that
he would be wounded a third time in Europe. The line-up of platoon leaders and
noncommissioned officers of the four platoons are shown on the following page.
15
PORT OF EMBARKATION
FIRST PLATOON
PLATOON LEADER
PLATOON SERGEANT
PLATOON GUIDE
SQUAD LEADER-1st SQUAD
SQUAD LEADER-2nd SQUAD
SQUAD LEADER-3rd SQUAD
2nd Lt. William Doenges
T/Sgt. Robert Brewer
S/Sgt Richard Armstrong
S/Sgt. Leon Uczynski
S/Sgt. William Hudson
S/Sgt. Lester Westcott
SECOND PLATOON
PLATOON LEADER
PLATOON SERGEANT
PLATOON GUIDE
2nd Lt. Donald Schollander
T/Sgt. Oliver Galloway
S/Sgt Wilburn Powers
S/Sgt. Virgil Cook
S/Sgt. Arnold Shelander
S/Sgt. Fred Collins
THIRD PLATOON
PLATOON LEADER
PLATOON SERGEANT
PLATOON GUIDE
2nd Lt. Richard McClintock
T/Sgt. Harold Wagger
S/Sgt Daniel Jury
S/Sgt John Steiner
S/Sgt Vaughn Chadburn
S/Sgt. Wesley Nelker
WEAPONS PLATOON
PLATOON LEADER
PLATOON SERGEANT
MORTAR SECTION LEADER
MORTAR SQUAD LEADER-1st SQUAD
MORTAR SQUAD LEADER-2nd SQUAD
MORTAR SQUAD LEADER-3rd SQUAD
MACHINE GUN SECTION LEADER
MG SQUAD LEADER-1st SQUAD
MG SQUAD LEADER-2nd SQUAD
2nd Lt. Lester Jenkins
T/Sgt. Edgar Etheredge
S/Sgt Russell Causey
Sgt. Randal Maguire
Sgt. Gordon Bower
Sgt. Daniel Micherdzinski
S/Sgt. Judson Harmon
Sgt. Robert Wood
Sgt. Verlin Kirkham
16
PORT OF EMBARKATION
A few days before the Trailblazers left Fort Leonard Wood, Sgt. Carl Earnstauffer, an assistant squad leader in the Second Platoon, was summoned to the
Orderly Room. A short time later he returned to the barracks with tears in his eyes.
He sat on his foot locker, rested his head in his hands and wept. Captain
Hendrickson had given Earnstauffer official orders transferring him from the 70th
Division to a replacement depot on the West Coast. He told Carl that regulations
precluded his going with the Division to Europe because he was a native of Germany.
Carl came to the United States with his parents when he was a youngster and hardly
remembered anything about his childhood in Germany. He had been with the
Company since the activation at Camp Adair, was as loyal an American as any man
in the outfit, and was well liked and respected by his buddies. Everyone in the
Second Platoon was shocked to hear that he could not remain with the Trailblazers.
S/Sgt. Powers, the Second Platoon Guide, tried his best to persuade Captain
Hendrickson to have the orders rescinded, but without success.
********************
Shortly before midnight, November 24, 1944, 3,200 officers and men of the
276th Infantry Regiment arrived at Camp Myles Standish, a secret staging area, near
Boston, Massachusetts. It was a cold, stormy night when the men detrained to the
sound of loud speakers blaring forth with marching music. The men were well aware
that the garrison at Camp Myles Standish was to be their last home in the U.S. for
many months to come.
It was SOP (Standard Operating Procedure) that when troops arrived at a new
post, they were subjected to an orientation. Despite the hour or the weather, the
orientation took place before anything else. The arrival of the Bloody Axe Regiment
at Camp Myles Standish on such a miserable night was no exception. In that instance
"secrecy" was the watchword. Camp officers led the troops to believe that no
outsider knew that Camp Myles Standish was a staging area for overseas troop
movements. Also, no outsider knew that the Trailblazers were there, and no one
knew where they were going. After standing in the rain and cold for nearly an hour
listening to an orientation on secrecy and post regulations, billeting assignments were
at long last made. Barracks were one-story buildings. In the center of each building
was a pot-bellied coal burning stove that proved to be quite inadequate to heat the
barracks. One could stand near a stove and char his rear-end while his nose froze.
The penetrating odor of coal smoke permeated the entire area, including the interior
of the barracks, the blankets and the men's clothing.
17
PORT OF EMBARKATION
The morning after the Regiment's arrival at Camp Myles Standish, the bugler
sounded reveille at five and chow call was sounded at six. After a hearty breakfast
the men were subjected to more orientation and post regulations. A lieutenant gave
the troops explicit instructions not to communicate with anyone outside the post.
Until further notice, no one was to make any telephone calls, nor would there be any
outgoing mail. He told everyone to remain in the company area and await further
orders. For the next three days the men were kept occupied making final preparations
for shipment overseas. Clothing and equipment inspections were daily routine. The
men underwent last minute medical examinations and received final immunizations.
They were issued new gas masks, shoe pacs, ammo bags, wool knit sweaters, and
other cold weather clothing and equipment. During those three days an officer
repeatedly urged the men who had not purchased the maximum National Service Life
Insurance ($10,000) to do so. Another officer made several pitches to encourage the
men to authorize or increase monthly pay deductions for the purchase of War Bonds.
After all preparations for overseas shipment were completed, the men were
given overnight passes to the neighboring cities of Boston and Providence. When
a man was away from the post on a pass, he was under strict orders not to discuss his
military activities, where he was from, or where he thought he might be going.
Under no circumstances was anyone to reveal to an outsider that his billets were at
Camp Myles Standish. It was necessary to learn in advance the bus schedules to and
from those cities and the location of the terminals. Buses were available to take the
men to Boston. When they were ready to return to camp, they were to look for a bus
at the station marked "M-4" and not ask any questions of civilians. Those strict
instructions proved to be quite humorous. The men soon discovered that many
people in Boston apparently knew that Camp Myles Standish was a staging area for
the Boston Port of Embarkation. The new uniforms, without insignia, was a giveaway. About the only thing that was kept secret was the fact that the men were 70th
Infantry Division Trailblazers. This was the last opportunity for the doughboys of
Company A to walk the streets of an American city. It was their last chance to
whistle at American girls, frequent the bars to drink American beer and whiskey, and
to dance to American music at the USO.
Before Captain Hendrickson issued the first passes, he called the Company
together and admonished the men to behave as gentlemen when they were in Boston.
He made the point that the residents of New England were refined and dignified.
"They were not accustomed to the informalities that were commonplace in other
parts of the Country." That evening in Boston some Second Platoon men were
making their way to Sculley Square, a place where many men from all branches of
18
PORT OF EMBARKATION
the service gathered. Sgt. John Haller and Bill Carello were walking on a crowded
sidewalk taking in the sights. Their attention was diverted to loud music emanating
from an open doorway when Haller accidentally stepped on the shoe of a young lady
walking in front of him. Before he could utter a word of apology, she turned around
and shouted; "You son of a bitch! Why don't you walk on your own shoes?" So much
for New England dignity! Sgt. Dean Mayer and some men from his squad met and
were talking to some civilian nurses from a local hospital. One nurse remarked; "You
boys must be from Standish and are on your way to the Boston Port to go overseas.
God bless you and good luck." The men did not blink an eye.
The food at Camp Myles Standish was very good, the best Army chow that
most of the troops were accustomed to eating. During those few days stay at
Standish, no one on post ever missed a meal. A popular remark around the camp was
"they are fattening us up for the kill."
Routine GI duties such as guard, KP, latrine detail, scrubbing barracks, and
policing the areas kept the men partially occupied. Standing guard duty and walking
posts was most unpleasant during the cold nights. Men walked posts around
warehouse areas, rail heads and motor pools. One night the cold rain turned to snow
and, with a little help from the icy wind, a near blizzard developed. A Sergeant of
the Guard who was unfamiliar with the camp had trouble locating his posts to relieve
the guards. As a result, some guards walked their posts in the wind and snow an
extra hour or two before being relieved. There were several pissed off sentries that
night.
Each morning the bugler sounded reveille at five. Everyone got out of his
bunk, shaved, showered, cleaned the barracks, and ate morning chow. At six-thirty
they assembled in formation on the company street with full field packs, duffel bags,
rifles, and helmets and were ready to move out. After they stood roll call, they were
ordered to return to the barracks and put away their equipment. Next the men participated in calisthenics then checked the daily duty roster. Those not on details
received passes until five a.m. the following morning. That routine went on each day
for the next several days. A few men were from Boston, Providence, and other
nearby cities and got the opportunity to visit their homes during those last days in the
States. Pfc Joseph Ciccarello took Sgts. Waite and Galloway to visit his family in
Boston. His sister's last instruction to the sergeants was "take good care of my kid
brother." Six weeks later Waite and Galloway were dead and Ciccarello was missing
in action, a prisoner of war.
19
PORT OF EMBARKATION
Most every evening Pvt. Bill Carello, a rifleman in the Second Platoon, took
some of his buddies to his home in Providence, Rhode Island. Bill's mother went all
out to welcome the men and made them feel as though they had found a home in the
Carello home. Each night Mrs. Carello and Bill's younger sisters prepared gourmet
Italian dinners that the men relished. In the early evening the fellows would arrive
at the Carello home, a stately old two-story house on West Almy Street. The
evenings began with snacks of salami, sausage, cheese, pasta and wine or beer; then
two hours later the guys would sit down to the finest dinner many had ever eaten.
Mrs. Carello was a widow who had raised several older children. Bill was her
youngest son, but not the last to enter military service. Two of Bill's brothers would
often drop in, presumably to meet and chat with the GIs. Everyone suspected that
their presence was most likely due to an attraction to their mother's fine cooking and
to impress on Bill’s buddies how proud they were of him. The Carello home soon
became a home away from home for a few Second Platoon men. Bill and his
brothers took Haller, Lowry, Sheeley and Shooter to some hockey games, a sport that
the New Englanders took quite seriously. Those were the first hockey games that
some men of the Company had ever attended. Mrs. Carello and her daughters, Ann
and Dorothy, helped the GIs wrap Christmas gifts and mailed them to the respective
homes after the Company left Boston. To prevent disclosing their location, the men
were not allowed to post any mail while they were still stateside. Bill's mother
arranged for Pfc Bob Shooter's bride of three weeks to spend a week-end in her
home. The Shooters were from Cambridge, Ohio, and were married a few weeks
earlier while Bob was last home on leave. Six weeks later, Bob was killed in action
in Alsace. He lies buried in the United States Military Cemetery at Epinal, France.
On the afternoon of December 5, the men seemed to sense that they were
making their last trip to the New England cities. Though at the time they really had
no way of knowing it, twenty-four hours later the Regiment would be at sea. Some
took in hockey games, some visited the USO, some had the usual fine dinner at Mrs.
Carello's home, some took in the burlesque shows and beverages at Sculley Square,
and some painted the town red. Some men had no idea how they got back to camp
in the morning, but not one soldier was missing or late for reveille. They assembled
in formation just as they did every morning since their arrival at Myles Standish, but,
instead of returning their gear to the barracks, they were marched to the railhead. All
were present or accounted for with full field packs, duffel bags and weapons.
20
PORT OF EMBARKATION
3. USS WEST POINT
SS AMERICA. She was America's newest and largest luxury liner. At the outset of the war, she
was converted to a troop transport and renamed USS WEST POINT. On December 6, 1944, the USS West
Point put out of Boston Harbor with two regiments of Trailblazers aboard. She sailed alone without escort or
protection of any kind. The Trailblazers crossed the Atlantic, passed through the Straits of Gibraltar, and sailed
into the Mediterranean Sea. After nine days at sea, the USS West Point put in to the port of Marseilles where
the GIs disembarked on the beaches of Southern France. (Photo courtesy of Mac Mc Lain, former crewman,
USN)
21
USS WEST POINT
The long awaited day that the Trailblazers had prepared so long for finally
arrived. Before the crack of dawn, one company after another boarded the awaiting
rail cars, which would transport them to the port of Boston. When they arrived at the
dock, everyone was astounded at the size of the ship that was to take them to their
next destination. The men of the 275th and 276th Infantry Regiments spent most of
the day climbing the gangplanks of the nation's largest luxury liner, the SS America.
The Government converted the SS America to a troop transport, painted her
camouflaged gray and renamed her USS West Point. She sailed as a Naval vessel
manned by a Navy crew. Her interior showed no resemblance to the luxurious liner
that she once was. Her only armaments were a battery of 40mm antiaircraft guns
mounted on her forward and aft decks. A few days earlier, the 274th Infantry
Regiment sailed aboard the USS Mariposa. Near the gangplanks, American Red
Cross girls bid the men farewell. The ladies gave each soldier a cup of coffee, a
couple of donuts and a ditty bag. Ditty bags were small olive-drab cloth bags
containing cigarettes, matches, playing cards, chocolate bars, chewing gum, reading
material, and French and German phrase books. Those ARC ladies were the last
American women many of the GIs would ever see. Boarding the ship was an
incredibly slow process. Every man carried a forty-pound full field pack and a duffel
bag weighing another thirty to forty pounds. In addition he carried his rifle or other
weapon, a gas mask, a cartridge belt, an ammunition bag, and wore his steel helmet.
By four in the afternoon of December 6, 1944, the USS West Point was fully
loaded with two regiments of Trailblazers and a detachment of Army Nurses. At
1630 she cast off, and at 1700 the world's third largest ship was slowly putting out
of Boston Harbor. As the ship steamed out to sea, several hundred inflated condoms
were observed drifting skyward from her decks. At Camp Myles Standish, post
regulations required that everyone leaving the garrison on a pass must have condoms
in his possession. Without them, no one got by the MPs at the gates. When a soldier
on deck remembered he was still carrying them, he inflated some and set them adrift.
The idea soon caught on, and in just a few moments, hundreds of the balloon-like
objects were rising above the wake of the USS West Point. It did not surprise anyone
when the Ship's officers and the Army officers failed to manifest any humor in the
incident.
The first night at sea was very cold and rough and the huge ship pitched and
rolled with the swells. That was the onset of many cases of mal-de-mer that would
continue in increasing numbers while the men were at sea. By the next day, the sea
became calm and remained that way for the remainder of the journey. Nearly every
22
USS WEST POINT
GI aboard the West Point fully expected the ship to rendezvous with a convoy or at
least pick up a Naval escort, but that did not happen. The West Point sailed alone out
into the Atlantic.
Most of the men had never experienced life aboard a troop ship, nor had they
given any thought as to what it might be like. Many had never been on a ship of any
kind and a few had never seen an ocean. On the top deck the officers and nurses
were comfortably quartered in cabins once occupied by passengers who traveled first
class. Enlisted men were quartered like sardines in all the compartments of the lower
decks. They slept on narrow canvas bunks that were four and five high, and so close
together that there was hardly room to walk between them. The tiers of bunks and
narrow aisles took up every square foot of available space; consequently, each man
had to keep his gear on the bunk with him. There was barely enough vertical
clearance between bunks for a man to squeeze in. To keep one's bunk from sagging
and crowding the man below, it was frequently necessary to tighten the ropes that
held the canvas to the steel frame. From any bunk, a man could reach out and easily
touch half a dozen of his buddies in nearby bunks.
Fresh water was available to the troops for drinking and cooking only. The
men used sea water for washing, shaving, and showering. The Army provided a
special all-purpose saltwater soap because ordinary soap and shaving cream would
not lather in the sea water. Saltwater soap had the appearance of black sandstone,
and felt the same when rubbed with saltwater on one's body. Shaving and showering
with sea water was one of many shipboard experiences that the men would never
forget. One could not easily rinse the soapy brine from his body and it left him with
a sticky feeling as though he had not bathed.
The design of the latrines, or as the sailors called them "heads," presented
another novel experience for the GIs. They consisted of about a dozen toilet seats
secured side by side to the top of a metal trough. Sea water was pumped into one end
of the trough and a continuous stream flushed the waste out the opposite end through
a pipe to the sea below. The rolling of the ship sometimes sucked frigid air through
the pipe onto the bare posteriors of those seated on the stools. That encouraged a man
to drastically cut short the business at hand. When the sea was calm, the latrine
functioned with no particular problems, but if the ship was rolling (as it usually was)
the water and contents would sometimes wash over the seats. That would often result
in some getting more out of the trough than was put in. More than once, someone
floated a flaming, crumpled paper soaked in lighter fluid down the trough. That gave
23
USS WEST POINT
the GIs downstream unexpected and startling hot-seats. It may have been humorous
to the perpetrator but proved to be no laughing matter to the recipients of the floating
flames. It became a serious matter when 1st/Sgt. Palacio got the "hot seat." By the
time he felt the heat, there was no one other than himself anywhere near the latrine.
Hot chow was served twice a day in a huge mess hall down in the hold of the
ship. Each of the forty-eight companies aboard the USS West Point was designated
specific times to eat. The chow lines were long and it usually took an hour or more
to sweat them out. Unappetizing sustenance was dispensed at one end of the huge
compartment. Each man carried his individual mess gear and ate standing at long
narrow tables that ran the full length of the mess hall. As one tried to eat his meal,
he moved down the table. By the time he got to the end, he was either through
eating, gave it up as a bad job, or got weak at the stomach and let it go! Next he went
to an area aft of the hold where he washed his mess gear in waist high garbage cans
filled with boiling, soapy water. The stench of the boiling brine and GI soap in the
hot hold frequently made a strong stomach weaken. (GI soap was an all purpose soap
which came in unwrapped yellow-brown bars about the size of common bricks and
was used for cleaning anything and everything. The GIs used it to scrub barracks
floors, clean latrines, wash dishes, mess gear, and clothing.) After washing their
mess gear, it was essential to rinse it in a similar can filled with boiling water. If the
mess gear was not thoroughly rinsed, one was sure to get a severe case of the GIs
(diarrhea). The steel deck was always wet and slippery with spilled food and lost
meals. Frequently men were unable to retain their meals long enough to get out of
the hold; consequently, most did not linger while they were eating or washing their
mess gear. When they were finished, they made their way as quickly as possible up
the endless flights of ladders and out to the open deck to get fresh air. It was a
common sight after meals to see the rails lined with seasick GIs. They hung on for
dear life, wrenched and fed their recently consumed meal to the fish.
Many men suffered from severe cases of mal-de-mer, which discouraged
them from going down the long hot ladders and passages to the mess. There was
supposedly a strict rule against taking food from the mess hall to the sleeping
quarters, which nearly everyone openly ignored. Sandwiches and other items which
could be readily carried were brought to the men who were too sick to leave their
bunks. One of the most afflicted men on the ship was 1st/Sgt. Palacio, who did not
object when someone violated the rule and brought him a morsel.
24
USS WEST POINT
Fatigue details, such as KP and scrubbing the decks and latrines, were
everyday routine, but no one was overworked and everyone managed to get plenty
of sack time (sleep). There were no written duty rosters such as the men were
accustomed to in garrison. Each day the 1st Sergeant would seek out KP and latrine
details and put the finger on whomever he could catch. Dodging work details was
the norm. It became a game that the men of Company A played with 1st/Sgt. Palacio.
At the sight of the "Top Kick," a man would quickly and quietly make himself scarce
and hide out in a lifeboat or another well-concealed place on deck.
One afternoon, after pulling KP in the officers mess which was situated on the
top deck, Pvt. Bill Carello returned to the squad area with a large canned ham and
two loaves of bread. For supper that evening, several Second Platoon GIs feasted on
ham sandwiches on the open deck. That was far more pleasant than making the
onerous trip down to the reeking hold. Company A was fortunate in having been
quartered on the Promenade Deck, only one deck below the officers' mess. That
strategic location of the Company made it possible for other men in the Second
Platoon to make similar unauthorized requisitions during the journey.
Daily abandon ship drills were SOP. To keep the men occupied, the Company
officers attempted to hold training sessions on the usual military topics such as
instruction on the care and cleaning of equipment in ocean environment, first aid,
how to survive in combat, what to do and say if captured, etc, etc. The training
sessions never seriously got underway, and after a day or two the brass hats
abandoned the idea. There really was not sufficient space on the crowded ship to
hold the sessions and seasickness caught up with many officers and NCOs.
Previously, the men had sat through many sessions on those subjects, so nothing was
lost.
Federal Regulations allowed each man to bring not more than $5.00 in
saltwater currency aboard the ship to spend in the ship's store. Other than for the
purchase of cigarettes, the money was mainly used to finance the poker and crap
games that took place day and night. Some men found themselves in games of
chance with the sailors and frequently came out second best, usually because the
sailors had much more money to back them up. Though no one wanted to admit it,
the sailors were probably the better poker players, which resulted in most of the
soldiers' money remaining at sea. Even if a man was lucky enough to win a few
bucks, he could not send any of it home. Saltwater currency was a special currency
25
USS WEST POINT
used aboard ships at sea. It was not legal tender in the US nor could it be spent in
foreign countries.
The ship's officers constantly reminded the troops that the USS West Point was
sailing alone without escort or protection of any kind. To avoid detection by the Nazi
U-boats, the ship sailed across the open sea at full speed. Frequently its course was
changed, making a clearly visible zigzag wake. Naval personnel informed the troops
that at 29 knots or better, the USS West Point could outrun any Nazi U-boat that it
sighted. At night she sailed under strict blackout conditions, which meant that after
dark the men were forbidden to light a match or smoke on deck. Standing orders
were to never throw anything overboard, not even a match or a cigarette butt. Trash
of any kind, no matter how small, could leave a trail detectible by well-trained
surface or air spotters. Life jackets were required to be worn at all times when the
men were away from their bunks. They were clumsy, awkward to wear, and smelled
as though seasick troops used them many times in the past.
On two occasions during the voyage, the Navy gunners engaged in target
practice with the 40mm antiaircraft guns. They dropped targets in the water then
went on to circle and fire at the targets. After they practiced for a short while, the
ship turned back to retrieve the targets. The soldiers never learned whether or not the
Navy gun crews hit their marks.
Everywhere men could be seen sitting and standing around the open decks,
leaning against the rails and bulkheads, or on their bunks reading the pocket books
given to them by the Red Cross girls. Other common reading material were phrase
books on the French and German languages. In the evenings men would often gather
around in small groups and sing. A few of the fellows provided some accompaniment with harmonicas. Among the most popular songs with the troops were "Meet
Me in St. Louis," "Don't Fence Me in," "The Last Time I Saw Paris," "The White
Cliffs of Dover," "Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition," and "Into Each Life
Some Rain Must Fall" . . . and, of course, the ever popular cowboy and hillbilly
songs, which made for good group singing. Bill Carello put together a verse for the
men of Company A that went:
26
USS WEST POINT
Company A two seven six infantry
We are all Yankee boys can't you see
When we get to France
We will make Hitler dance
Company A two seven six infantry
The long evenings between chow and retreat provided a great deal of time for
chatting and just general shooting the breeze. Men talked at length about their
homes, wives, kids, sweethearts, families, what they did before the war, and what
they planned to do after the war. During the ten days the regiments were at sea, the
men learned more about each other than they did during the entire time that they were
in training together. For some strange reason, on very few occasions did anyone
bring up the subject that many would not be making the return trip home.. Pfc
George Sheeley recalled: "I was sitting in a circle on the deck with six or eight of my
Company A comrades. We were discussing what the future held for us. My buddies
were very confident that nothing bad would happen and we would all go home when
the war was over. Those GIs were later killed." One night Sgt. John Cummings and
Pfc Brian Ledoux were leaning on the rail and chatting as they watched the stars.
Sgt. Cummings commented that one or possibly both of them would be killed before
it was over. A month later John Cummings was killed near the Rhine River. Brian
Ledoux was one of those very few in the Company who was never wounded.
Frequent topics of discussion were speculation about where the USS West
Point was bound and what mission was in store for the Trailblazers. From nowhere
rumors spread that had the Trailblazers bound for every conceivable destination. One
day the "scuttlebutt" would be that the ship was bound for Liverpool, the next day
Morocco, the next day Greenland, the next day Italy, etc. The most palatable, yet the
most unlikely, rumor was that they were going to Liverpool then to Paris. In Paris,
a special cadre would retrain the men to be Military Police for future occupation duty.
That rumor went as far as to report that seamen down in the hold saw cases of white
helmets, white leggings, white belts, and other MP gear. Anyway, passing these
rumors along with a little embellishment at each repetition helped pass the time of
day. Everyone knew that the many crates in the hold contained machine guns,
mortars, spare parts, and other weapons of war. As for the ship's destination, the
crew had many convinced that it would be Liverpool. The West Point had made
other trips across the Atlantic and most often to that port city. The other ports in
Europe were either too small or too badly damaged to accommodate a vessel as large
as the USS West Point. How wrong they were!
27
USS WEST POINT
Every night men lined the rails in the darkness. They simply gazed at the stars
or watched the bright phosphorescent waves roll by as the huge ship plowed through
the sea. The salty aroma of the ocean was ever in the air. Crossing the Atlantic
turned out to be uneventful, restful and moderately pleasant for those who did not
suffer from seasickness. Most of those recovered after a few days; however, some
spent nearly the entire trip in the sack or on the rail. For the most part the weather
was calm and because the ship took a southern route, most of the days were warm
and pleasant. Several men got suntans, and others got mild cases of sunburn.
Pfc Eddie Tsukimura, Company A, 276th Infantry, drew this and other sketches on American
Red Cross stationery while he was hospitalized in France after being severely wounded during
Operation Nordwind.
28
USS WEST POINT
During the midmorning
hours of December 13, 1944, for
the first time in eight days, the
soldiers sighted land on the distant
horizon. They thought for sure
that what they saw were the British
Isles and the ship would soon dock
at Liverpool. A few hours later
when the USS West Point sailed
through the Straits of Gibraltar, the
men discovered that the land they
saw was not England but Spain.
For most of the day one could
clearly see the coast of Spain from
the port side and faintly the coast
of Africa from the starboard side.
Rock of Gibraltar
Seeing the Rock of Gibraltar,
which everyone immediately recognized, shattered all hopes that the regiments were
destined for Liverpool. There was so much air activity over and around Gibraltar that
the rock took on the appearance of a massive bee hive. That morning the USS West
Point picked up a destroyer escort, which remained with her for the rest of the
journey. Watching the destroyer and the aircraft over Gibraltar reassured the troops
that they were no longer alone in a world of nothing but ocean. After passing
Gibraltar, the weather ceased to be sunny and balmy and there was a decided chill in
the air. Other than that, sailing on the Mediterranean was in many respects more
pleasant than the Atlantic crossing. The ship's Captain lifted all blackout restrictions
and the GIs had the comfort of knowing that their ship had some protection from the
nearby destroyer, though the men still had no idea where they were going. No one
gave much thought to the fact that the closer they got to the war zone, the greater the
danger. At night the entire ship was lit up with running lights and for the first time
since leaving Boston Harbor, the men were allowed to smoke on deck after dark. At
that point in time, the United States and Great Briton had air supremacy in the
Mediterranean. Any vessel sailing in those waters without running lights was in
danger of being blown out of the sea.
On the morning of December 15, after two days of peaceful sailing on the
Mediterranean, the USS West Point reached her destination. She lowered her anchors
a few miles offshore from the French Port of Marseilles. Bombed-out wreckage
29
USS WEST POINT
littered the harbor and docks, making it impossible for a ship of that size to sail into
the port to dock. British and American bombings and total destruction by the
retreating Germans, left the Port in shambles. The superstructures of many scuttled
French naval vessels and cargo ships were protruding through the surface of the bay.
It was very unlikely that any GI aboard the transport would soon forget his first sight
of Europe. That massive destruction was a small sample of the warfare that he would
soon be a part of.
30
USS WEST POINT
4. FRANCE -- DELTA BASE CP-2
Delta Base CP-2, Marseilles, France – December 1944 (Photo by Garstki)
Disembarking began in the early afternoon and was extremely slow and
tedious. The troops, carrying all of their gear, lumbered down the ladders to a lower
level, where they left the ship through openings a few feet above water level. From
there they walked down outside gangways to landing barges that transported them
31
FRANCE-DELTA BASE CP-2
to the beach. The weather turned cold and a biting rain fell as the craft hit the beach
with a jolt so severe that it threw the men off their feet.
Sentries on the beach directed troops to big six-by-six Army trucks waiting to
transport them to a bivouac area at Delta Base CP-2, a large staging area sixteen
miles north of Marseilles. As the trucks rolled through the narrow, hilly, cobblestone
streets of Marseilles, the residents came out by the hundreds and stood in the
downpour to welcome the American troops. Women and children were leaning out
of windows and stood on their balconies shouting and waving American and French
flags. This was an unexpected surprise to climax what had been a wretched, wet day.
No one knew what to expect when he went ashore and that spontaneous display of
welcome by a grateful French populous was a total surprise. It was well after dark
and pouring rain when the men arrived at the staging area.
“From the West Point to CP-2" by Pfc Eddie Tsukimura
32
CP-2 was on a desolate, rocky, treeless, windswept plateau. It did not appear
that the area was ever cultivated. The barren muddy ground was nearly without
vegetation and could not have provided grazing land for mountain goats. A row of
wooden storage sheds, about fifty yards apart, stood along the north side of the
plateau. There were no other structures except a row of latrine facilities along the
south side. The sheds were located about two-hundred yards upwind from the
latrines and were used to store food, supplies and ammunition. They also served as
shelters for the company kitchens. Latrine facilities were merely slit trenches
surrounded by five or six foot posts covered with burlap. Each company was
assigned a storage shed and a latrine.
The men pitched pup-tents in company street formation between the sheds and
the latrines. After several hours in the cold rain, their clothing was soaked and they
were chilled to the bones. Getting into the tents and out of the rain did not help
much. Some began to realize that there was a lot of truth to the stories they heard
from their fathers and uncles about the rain and mud in France. There was no hot
chow for the GIs that first night at CP-2, but there was an inspection of the bivouac
areas. Word came down from the Battalion Commander that the tents were not in
straight lines, and for everyone to take them down and realign them. That “chicken
shit” order brought on much groaning, moaning, bitching and an old familiar drawn
out GI chant "All together men, and not too loud . . . Soooome Shiiiiit!" It was
a miserable job in the rain and mud, but not having a choice, the men took down the
shelter-halves and realigned the tents. The mud was so soft and deep that the tent
stakes would not hold so large stones were used to keep the stakes in place. Some
two hours later, the tent realigning was complete, sentries were walking their posts,
and the men hit the sacks. Soft cold mud began to seep between their blankets. No
one could get very much sleep that first night in the ETO (European Theater of
Operations). Long before morning most of the Regiment was seen gathered around
many smoldering campfires trying to thaw their aching bones. With smoke getting
in their eyes, some were heating Nescafe in their canteen cups and many were
attempting to dry their wet clothes. No soldier of the 276th Infantry will ever forget
his first bivouac in France with a severe winter setting in to greet him.
Many men spent the first day at CP-2 on fatigue details. Some helped set up
the kitchen area, some dug slit trenches, and others went back to the landing beaches
of Marseilles to bring up equipment, rations and supplies. Those on the latter detail
managed to pick up extra rations, fresh eggs, frozen milk and everything worthwhile
that they could carry back to camp. Many pulled guard duty. The sentries walked
33
posts around the company perimeters twenty-four hours a day. At night the number
of sentries walking posts was doubled. Everyone was issued live ammunition for the
first time since leaving the States.
The encampment at CP-2 lasted a week, during which time the weather got
progressively colder. An icy wind from the Alps, called the Mistral, blew continuously down the Rhone River Valley and seemed to dump its fury on the encampment.
What was slush and mud when the troops arrived, turned to frozen ground and ice
before they departed. The men spent their spare time on search parties looking for
fire wood and wine. Everything in sight that was combustible, including the wooden
posts used for the latrine areas, was gathered up and used to feed the evening campfires. The men exercised great care in attempting to safeguard the scarce firewood
scrounged from the surrounding area. While scouting for firewood, some Second
Platoon men found a source of wine. A group of Italian refugees who were squatted
about a mile north of the bivouac area came up with a supply of red vino. The quality
was not good but the price was right. A few cigarettes or a bar of soap was the
purchase price for a bottle. The men perceived that the quality of the wine seemed
to improve as the days went by.
Nearly everyone had the opportunity to go into the City of Marseilles for a few
hours. The men were told to go in groups of twelve (squad strength) and always
remain together. That was for their own protection, as Marseilles was reputed to be
the roughest international port in the world. There were some sections of the City,
particularly along the waterfront, that were cordoned off and completely off limits to
GIs. In those areas there were dives and whorehouses frequented by smugglers,
thugs, cutthroats, and foreign agents from all over Europe, Africa, Asia, and the
Middle East. French Police, squads of American Military Police and Navy Shore
Patrol maintained a close watch over the perimeters of those sections of the City. On
the streets one saw soldiers, sailors, mercenaries, and seamen from just about
everywhere in the world. There were French Foreign Legionnaires, Turks, Russians,
Arabs, Senegalese, Algerians, and Moroccans; many clad in native attire and carrying
long intimidating sabers. It was difficult to tell friend from foe as none looked overly
friendly.
The port and waterfront buildings suffered intense damage from bombings,
but away from the waterfront, the damage was less severe. There were sunken ships
in the harbor, railroad tracks were twisted grotesquely upward, and the warehouses
typical of a port were gutted. High piles of rubble were everywhere along the
34
waterfront. In the City, there were people on the streets and in the bistros, but very
few stores or shops were open for business. One could purchase red wine in the
bistros but the only food available was a mustard sandwich made on heavy moist
black bread. Wine cost the equivalent of four or five cents a glass. It tasted a little
better than wine the men were getting from the Italians near CP-2. In spite of the
language barrier, the GIs got along fairly very well with the French civilians. It did
not take the troops long to learn some of the more important French words, such as
"vin," "mademoiselle!" and "cheri!." They soon noticed that the French girls did not
seem to object to their whistles.
35
“Staging Area,” “Letter from loved one” and “40 & 8" – by Pfc Eddie Tsukimura
36
5. FORTY AND EIGHTS
FORTY AND EIGHT -- World War I French freight car (Photo by Garstki)
The Trailblazers were supposed to have remained at Delta Base CP-2 until all
the components of the Division assembled at the staging area. Regimental and
battalion headquarters companies and the line companies that sailed on the USS West
37
FORTY AND EIGHTS
Point and the USS Mariposa were the first to arrive in France. All other essential
support units, including Field Artillery and Engineers, were to follow other vessels.
Without those units, the regimental line companies lacked the logistical support
necessary to go into action as a combat unit.
Of the 15,000 officers and men in an infantry division, approximately 6,000 were line company infantrymen. The others were assigned to
the various essential support units. An infantry regiment, or regimental
combat team, was the Army's smallest complete self-contained fighting unit.
It included a regimental headquarters company and three infantry battalions.
The Support units were a 105mm Field Artillery battalion, an Anti-tank
company, an Engineer battalion, Medical detachments, Service companies,
an Ammunition and Pioneering platoon, an Ordnance company, a Quartermaster company, Transportation companies, a Chemical Warfare company,
a Reconnaissance troop, Military Police Detachments, and an Army Post
Office.
It was standard procedure in the Army that a man was told only what he
needed to know. It was not surprising that no one at Company level seemed to be
aware of the fact that all the support units were not present. CP-2 covered such a
large area that a person hardly knew who was in the tent fifty feet away, let alone be
aware of what units were present. Before the 70th Infantry Division's support troops
arrived in France, the Trailblazers got word of a huge enemy attack on the Western
Front. The German Army had launched a surprise offensive through the Ardennes
forest in Belgium, had pushed back the U.S. First Army lines, and was driving
headlong toward France. It appeared that the entire Western Front was in danger of
collapse. Heavy panzer divisions spearheaded the enemy blitzkrieg that crashed
through the American winter defenses in the Ardennes. Hitler appeared absolutely
confident of the ultimate success of the Nazi onslaught. He announced to the world
that Paris and Antwerp would be in German hands by the New Year.
With that disturbing news, the regiments of the 70th Infantry Division were
alerted to move up immediately and not wait for the supporting units. On December
23, the foot elements of the 276th Infantry boarded freight trains made up of World
War I French box cars called Forty and Eights and were on their way to the front.
The officers rode in antiquated unheated coaches at the front of each train. Motor
elements, mainly jeeps, trailers and trucks, departed the same day by highway.
None of the officers at company level knew or let on that they knew where the
Regiment was going. Wherever their destination might be, the men hoped that the
38
FORTY AND EIGHTS
trip would take them through Paris, with perhaps a short stopover. Though they were
all aware of the German breakthrough in the Ardennes, most of the Trailblazers could
not conceive of the American Forces taking such a severe setback. Consequently, a
goodly number were inclined not to take the news too seriously.
Many men recalled the veterans of World War I speaking of the French Forty
and Eights; however, none thought that in the year 1944 the antiquated railroad cars
of pre-1917 could possibly still be in use. The troops were shocked when they saw
how primitive the cars were. They were short stubby boxcars mounted only on two
axles and four wheels. Some wheels were not solid but were wire spoke wheels.
Unlike American boxcars, none had eight wheels. Some had solid wooden sides and
some had partially open sides similar to cars used for hauling livestock. Prominently
printed on the side of some cars were the words "HOMMES 40--CHEVAUX 8,"
denoting the car's capacity as forty men or eight horses. Couplings were large iron
hooks and eyes; the hook was on one car and the eye on another. Two round
bumpers, about ten or twelve inches in diameter, were attached to the ends of each
car to keep the cars properly spaced. Many cars were damaged from shell fire, and
others were worn out and beat up after many years of hard use and two wars. In warravaged France, they were the only means of transportation that the retreating
Germans left behind. The men were convinced that the cars used to transport the
276th Infantry were often used to carry livestock but there was very little to suggest
that those particular relics ever carried human cargo. When twenty men with full
gear piled into a car, there was hardly enough room to move around. It amazed the
GIs to see that the railroads were not equipped with electric block signals. The
signals were mechanical and were operated by hand levers. Many block signal cables
were a tangled mass of heavy wires resembling spaghetti, making them totally
inoperative. Switches were hand operated by levers at the switch sites. The train
always started with one or more startling jolts. The locomotive would slowly move
in reverse until there was slack in the couplings between the cars, then it would
plunge forward with enough force to knock anyone standing off his feet.
As the journey got under way, the weather grew colder and the icy wind and
snow came through the cracks in the cars. Sleeping was nearly impossible as the
train jerked along as though it were moving without springs on square wheels.
Crowded conditions and freezing weather were not conducive to a comfortable ride.
Before departing, the men were told that the train would not stop for meals but would
stop once each day so that they could stretch their legs and do calisthenics. Actually
it stopped many times during the day and night for various reasons, many of which
39
FORTY AND EIGHTS
were unknown to the GIs. There was a Coleman burner in each car that the men used
to heat "Ten-in-One" Army field rations. They ate most of their meals either
lukewarm or cold due to the difficulty of heating rations on a rough moving freight
train. The latrine facility was a large sand box placed near the door of each car. The
boxes, if used, had to be emptied and the sand changed daily. To avoid that distasteful detail, no one made use the sand boxes. They took advantage of the frequent
stops and the fact that the train was very slow in starting up after each stop.
Fortunately, no one that detrained to make a call of nature was left behind.
For four long cold days and nights, the men endured the misery of living,
eating and sleeping in the crowded Forty and Eights. In spite of their many
discomforts, the trip proved to be an interesting and enlightening adventure. Many
were curious about the countryside, small farms, villages and sights of that foreign
land. Much of the farm land resembled the Midwestern US, except that the farms in
France were much smaller. The towns and hamlets with their towering church
steeples were very different from those in America. Everyone was so anxious to see
what was coming up next, that he did not always dwell on the rough, cold ride.
Nearly all grew up during the Great Depression, and world travel was never a part
of their lives. Before entering the Army, many had never traveled more than a few
hundred miles from their homes. France was not like home! As one might expect,
not one mademoiselle escaped the eyes and whistles of the GIs. Whenever the train
stopped, which was several times each day, French women and children crowded
along the rails to exchange wine for cigarettes and chocolate bars. Back in
Marseilles, the GIs began to realize how deprived the victims of war really were. As
they rode the Forty and Eights past the war-ravaged towns, the deprivation became
more prevalent.
At a town somewhere near Lyon, France, the train transporting the First
Battalion stopped for several hours in the railroad yard. There was a string of small
tank cars on an adjacent track, which the men soon discovered to be a wine train.
Using improvised syphons, it was not long before the GIs had the red wine pouring
from the tanks into their canteen cups. After drinking all they could hold, they filled
their canteens and steel helmets. When the troop train started to pull out, many
encountered some unsteadiness and experienced a little difficulty in getting aboard,
which resulted in a lot of spilt wine and a few minor injuries. As one might expect,
the officers were not too pleased with the whole situation that afternoon. Some
officers made threats of punishment for the perpetrators who were easily identifiable
by their wine-stained uniforms. Many thought that the officers were more unhappy
40
FORTY AND EIGHTS
about not having shared in the GI treasure than they were about having a battalion of
half-drunk GIs in the Forty and Eights.
Christmas Day was spent traveling north through the Rhone Valley. The train
stopped long enough in the afternoon for the men to unload and participate in
Catholic and Protestant Nativity Services. Two Army chaplains conducted the rites
by the side of the freight cars. It was cold and windy with a light snow falling;
however, the men had a warm feeling as they attended Mass and Protestant Services
and sang Christmas hymns while standing in the snow. The chaplains attempted to
cheer the men up and encourage them to look at the brighter side because they were
on a good and honorable mission. A padre about to begin Mass told the men, "Don't
kneel, the ground is damp and keep your helmets on, the air is cold; God will
understand.... because you may be experiencing a Christmas Day much different
from any Christmas you have had in the past, it needn't be looked upon as the most
unhappy.” After the brief services, which lasted about twenty to thirty minutes, the
men climbed back into the freight cars and got underway. Christmas dinner was meat
and vegetable hash and hard biscuits from the familiar ten-in-one Army field rations.
That meal, being no different from the others, was barely lukewarm.
Each day the weather got colder as the train inched its way at a snail's pace.
The soldiers learned later that the Rhone Valley was known in Europe for its severe
winter winds that blew from the Swiss and French Alps. The train made frequent
stops due to wreckage on the tracks, mechanical failures, derailments, frequent air
alerts. Fortunately, the air alerts were nearly all false alarms. Sometimes the stops
would last several hours and often the train commander told the men to stay aboard,
so that enemy air observers would not detect troop movements. The Allies had air
supremacy over France, but one or two Nazi planes could slip by and raise havoc
with a troop train.
On the morning of December 26, the train carrying the First Battalion of the
276th Infantry arrived at its destination, Brumath, France. Since leaving Marseilles,
the troops had traveled north past Avignon, Lyon, Dijon, and to Brumath (Map 1, pg.
42). Brumath is a village near the Rhine River in the Alsace Province of Northeast
France. The men had no idea how far they had traveled, nor did they have the
foggiest notion as to where they were.
41
FORTY AND EIGHTS
42
FORTY AND EIGHTS
6. OUTPOSTING THE RHINE
The long string of decrepit Forty and Eights, carrying their GI cargo, came to
a stop in the snow-blanketed countryside near Brumath, France. The men shouldered
their packs, grabbed their rifles and gear, and climbed down from the cars for the last
time. Not a man was sorry to bid farewell to the Forty and Eights. They quickly
spread out away from the cars leaving no less than the usual five yard intervals
between any two men and began what seemed like a long wait for marching orders.
That morning was extremely cold, the sky was gray, and it was exceedingly quiet
except for the rumble of heavy artillery in the distance. Brumath was less than twenty
miles from the front lines, and if there were any shreds of hopes remaining for a
stopover in Paris, they were completely extinguished. While they waited and
shivered in the snow, the officers assembled in the battalion headquarters car for a
briefing. The wait in that field seemed like forever before the company officers
returned to their respective units to pass down the poop. The Platoon Leaders did not
have much to say except; "Prepare to move out. The next leg of the journey will be
on foot." The rifle companies lined up on in single files on each side of a road The
lead company sent scouts forward and the last company in the column posted rear
guards. Squad leaders posted air guards and instructed their men to maintain five
yard intervals and to not fall behind.
As the columns moved out the troops began the most arduous and agonizing
forced march that any of them had ever experienced. During their training days at
Camp Adair and Fort Leonard Wood, the men went on many forced and endurance
marches. Some were as long as thirty miles with field packs, but none was nearly as
brutal and punishing as the march that day in the frigid Alsace Plain. Several men
were in weakened conditions after the long voyage across the Atlantic and no routine
43
OUTPOSTING THE RHINE
exercise since leaving Camp Myles Standish. No one got enough sleep on the Forty
and Eights, some caught colds, and some had the GIs (dysentery). Everyone was
chilled to the bone and wore
his long, wool overcoat as the
march got underway. There
was no transportation other
than foot-power, so no one
could be excused from the
march. Though it was bitter
cold, in less than an hour everyone had worked up a good
sweat and took off the overcoats. The rank and file had no
idea where they were going or
how far and how long they
would have to walk. The pace
was so fast that nearly one
Brumath to Bischwiller by Pfc Eddie Tsukimura
fourth of the men were unable
to keep up and had to drop back and straggle in at the rear. The squad leaders did
everything they could to keep the ranks closed, but the pace was simply too fast. Ten
minute breaks were taken every hour which gave many of the stragglers an
opportunity to catch up, but then they got no rest and soon fell behind again. The
Battalion marched sixteen miles to the town of Bischwiller.
In order to lighten their heavy loads, some men discarded everything in their
packs that they felt that they would not need. Some even threw away their gas masks
and ammunition bags which found their way into ditches and gullies at the sides of
the road. Countless bottles of wine and ration cans from ten-in-one field rations were
reluctantly tossed into the ditches as the men moved along toward their unknown
destination. Blisters soon developed on many a weary foot as the men were not
accustomed to walking in the rubber shoe pacs issued at Camp Myles Standish.
While on the march, the shoe pacs helped to keep the men's feet warm; however they
were ill-fitting, provided very little foot support and caused the feet to sweat.
Feet were sore, stomachs and backs ached, packs got heavier, artillery got
louder, and everyone was exhausted from the killing pace of the march. "Ohhhhhhh
My Aching Back! My Poor Aching Back!, " an old familiar complaint, could be
heard chanted for miles around. If those companies were an example of what the
44
newspapers described as "fresh American troops moving up to the front,” the men
wondered what the hell they would look like in a few more weeks. Late that
afternoon, the First Battalion arrived at Bischwiller, a little town near the Rhine River
a few miles north of the City of Strasbourg, the Capital of Alsace. Bischwiller was
only a mile from the American MLR (Main Line of Resistance) which was at that
time on the west bank of the Rhine River.
At Bischwiller, the rifle companies were billeted in empty factory buildings
and warehouses. The men were exhausted and their feet were sore, damp and cold.
The warehouse assigned to Company A, like all of the other buildings, was unheated
and frigid enough to use as an ice house. It was only a matter of a few minutes
before the sweaty soldiers with their sore wet feet began to really feel the cold. They
desperately needed a complete change of clothing but all their extra clothes were in
their duffel bags somewhere in the rear. Everyone was told that the duffel bags were
supposed to catch up with them at the end of the line. (Actually no one saw his duffel
bag again until late in May, after the war.) All they could do was remove their boots
and wet socks, massage their feet, tape up the blisters, and put on dry socks. The men
were taught to carry extra pairs of socks tucked in under their shirts where they could
stay warm and dry. The medics, who also made the march, were as exhausted as the
rest of the company, yet they worked well into the night helping the men with tape
and bandages for their blisters. Their biggest job was tending to the stragglers, as
many of them needed minor medical attention. Everyone cursed the damned shoe
pacs that were not intended for long distance hiking. Many wished that they had kept
their combat boots in their packs, rather than leave them in their duffel bags.
After caring for their feet and checking and cleaning their weapons, the men
attempted to settle down for some rest. In their early training they learned that an
infantryman’s most important possessions were his feet and his weapon and his life
depended on both. At every opportunity, the care of those precious possessions took
priority. Another thing that he soon learned was to take advantage of every free
moment to get some rest or sleep. He never knew how many grueling hours would
pass before he would have another opportunity to shut his eyes.
The last of those who did not keep up the pace, came in about an hour or so
after the main body. No one ever found out why the men were pushed so hard in
getting from the train to Bischwiller as there was no apparent reason for the hurry up
and wait. When everyone in Company A was in the warehouse and accounted for,
the supply sergeant issued each man extra bandoleers of rifle ammunition, two hand
45
grenades, a day's supply of K rations, a pair of waterproof trousers, and a waterproof
jacket. Due to the extremely cold weather, the men were weighted down with
clothing and equipment. Under his ODs (regulation wool uniform), each soldier wore
his dog tags, wool long-johns, and wool socks. Over his uniform, he wore a wool
knit sweater, waterproof trousers and jacket, a wool overcoat, wool knit gloves, a
wool knit cap, wool scarf, steel helmet and a full cartridge belt. Attached to the
cartridge belt was a canteen, first aid pack, bayonet, trench knife, and sometimes a
pair of wire cutters. He carried his rifle, 160 rounds of ammunition, hand grenades,
a gas mask, and a pack. In his pack was a shelter-half, two blankets, an entrenching
tool, a rain coat, mess gear, rations, extra socks, and a few personal items. With all
his equipment, the combat infantryman carried about eighty-five pounds.
After the supply sergeant issued the ammunition and rations, Capt. Hendrickson called the Company together at one end of the warehouse and attempted to orient
the men as to the situation. He told them that shortly they would be going into
combat as "TASK FORCE HERREN,” not as the 276th Infantry or the 70th
Division. It was then that everyone learned that only the line companies had arrived
at the front. The three regiments would have to depend on other infantry divisions
for logistical and tactical support. This meant that the regiments, in whole or in part,
would be temporarily attached to other divisions or regiments. They would engage
the enemy without the support of their own artillery, cannon companies, anti-tank
companies, or other support units. Corps Headquarters would send the rifle
companies and heavy weapons companies to whatever outfit that was in need of
warm bodies. At that time Task Force Herren was assigned to VI Corps reserve.
(There were two Corps in the Seventh Army, the VI and the XV) The Captain told
everyone to destroy all letters and any other form of identification that they had on
their persons except dog tags. No one was to wear the Trailblazer shoulder patch, or
any other insignia except that designating rank. Wearing the later was optional. The
men all knew their officers and NCOs well so very few chose to wear their stripes or
bars, lest the enemy might single them out as prime targets. Except the CO, the
officers and NCOs asked the men to call them by their first names or nicknames, and
not refer to their rank. The men were reminded again that in the event anyone was
captured, to give only the information that was on his dog tags. Name, rank and
serial number. No one was to reveal, even to friendly or allied troops, that they were
other than Task Force Herren. The Task Force was under the command of the
Assistant Division Commander, Brig. General Thomas R Herren. The new Division
Commander, Major General Allison J Barnett was still with the support units in the
U.S. Captain Hendrickson did not mention the mission of Task Force Herren other
46
than what he said earlier about being in Corps Reserve. For the next several minutes
the men grumbled and muttered such things as: "What the hell is a task force?"...
"What kind of shit does a task force get thrown at it?" ... " I don't like this task
force stuff!"... "Oh my aching back!"... “What the hell is happening to the
Trailblazer Division?”
They went to sleep that night wrapped in blankets and overcoats, but even then
it was near impossible to stay warm on the cold cement floor. Some men started to
build fires, but they extinguished them quickly when the warehouse began to fill with
smoke. In spite of the cold air and cement floors, that warehouse was not nearly as
miserable as the mud at Delta Base CP-2 or the long cold, sleepless ride on the Forty
and Eights.
The next morning, the mess sergeant gave each man more K rations, a half
dozen packs of cigarettes, some matches and a few tropical Hershey bars. The
Hershey bars were small thick chocolate bars that contained paraffin so that they
would not melt in hot weather. They were as hard as blocks of oak-wood and were
probably intended for the Pacific, but due to a military supply SNAFU (Situation
Normal All F—ed Up) they wound up in Europe in the dead of winter. What a hell
of a time and place for tropical Hershey bars, but most were consumed after a great
deal of gnawing. They were so hard that they were practically tasteless. S/Sgt.
Pupinski and the cooks traveled to Bischwiller with the motor elements of the Battalion and arrived early enough to set up a field kitchen so that the men could have
hot chow that evening. It was the first really hot meal they had since leaving CP-2.
The officers and men of Company A knew very little about the big picture on
the Western Front. The German offensive continued to drive south through Belgium
toward France; however, it was encountering considerable resistance from American
reinforcements that were being rushed to the Ardennes Forest. Task Force Herren
joined General Alexander Patch's Seventh US Army that faced the Western Front
between General de Lattre's First French Army on the right (south) and General
George Patton's US Third Army on the left (west). In the Seventh Army sector, the
MLR (Main Line of Resistance) was on the west bank of the Rhine River. It ran in
a north by northeasterly direction to Lauterbourg, which was about thirty miles north
of Bischwiller. There the MLR turned west to St. Avold, France south of
Saarbrucken, Germany (Map 2, pg. 48). The sparsely manned lines were mainly
outposts and foxholes along the west bank of the river facing the enemy who were
in the bunkers and pill boxes of the Siegfried Line. Beyond the bunkers was the
47
48
Black Forest of Germany. Near Lauterbourg, where the lines turned sharply to the
west, some villages were changing hands between the Americans and the Germans
from day to day.
Due to heavy casualties sustained by the divisions in the Ardennes, the 276th
Infantry was called upon to transfer 219 riflemen to the 28th Infantry Division. This
created a lot of bitching, as no one wanted to leave Company A or see any of his
comrades leave. It was like a blow being struck before the combat began and
reduced the combat strength of the outfit by nearly 10 percent. Nevertheless orders
were orders, and Sgt. Palacio selected one man from each squad, and sent them off
to Battalion Headquarters. Among those who went to the 28th Division was Pvt. Bill
Carello, the Second Platoon rifleman from Providence, Rhode Island. After the war
some of his buddies learned that Bill survived bitter combat near Bastogne where he
suffered severely with frozen feet.
On December 29, 1944, two days after arriving at Bischwiller, the 276th
Infantry Regiment moved northeast to a sector along the Rhine River near the
villages of Seltz and Roschwoog. (Map 2, pg. 48) The Regiment's mission was to
man defensive positions on the west bank of the river. The First Battalion took up
positions on the right, the Second Battalion took up positions on the left, and the
Third Battalion was in mobile reserve. Company A occupied a very small hamlet
about fifty yards from the river. Captain Hendrickson assembled the men inside a
school house for a hot meal and an orientation. He told the GIs that the enemy had
not been very active on that sector of the front in the past several days, but the
Germans were believed to be capable of attacking across the river in force. They
occupied concrete fortifications and bunkers and could easily come out at night and
cross the river in sizeable patrols and infiltrate the American lines. The primary
mission of Task Force Herren was to deny the enemy access to the west bank of the
Rhine. After appraising the men of the Company’s mission, the Captain added “this
is the last time the men of Able Company will assemble in one group of this sort.
From now on the Company will be separated by platoons and squads, and you will
receive all orders from your platoon leaders, platoon sergeants and squad leaders.
Stay alert, especially at night. Dismissed!" That was the last word that many men
of Company A would ever hear the Captain utter.
After chow, the platoons moved out to take over the outposts on the Rhine.
When the men saw what they were up against, everyone was shocked to learn how
dreadfully thin the American lines were. Those undermanned outposts were the
49
Seventh Army's MLR which the Germans could have penetrated at will, had they
known how weak the defenses were. No wonder the primary mission was: "to deny
the Germans access to the west bank." It could have been a disaster if the enemy
were to discover how few American soldiers there were to defend that sector.
From the time the battalion detrained at Brumath until it took over the
positions on the Rhine, the men saw very few other American Forces. The units that
the battalion relieved had moved out before the Trailblazers arrived, leaving the latter
to find and take over the vacated positions. At first everyone thought that the
positions they were to occupy were forward outposts, but they soon learned those
positions were the MLR. That perilous situation gave everyone an eerie feeling of
being alone to face a numerically and logistically superior enemy force on the other
side of the river. At night the men spent two hours on guard in the outposts, then
were relieved for four hours, then back on guard for two hours. That routine went
on for twenty-four hours a day. When they were relieved from guard duty, the men
climbed into hay lofts or any place that they could find to get out of the cold and
catch a little shut-eye. Besides pulling duty as sentries in the outposts, everyone had
to take his turn at internal security as well. Internal security was protecting the
Company Headquarters and the houses or barns used as billets from attack or
sabotage by enemy infiltrators or German sympathizers. John "Red Ass" Haller
described his first night in an outpost on the Rhine; "I was assigned guard duty in a
foxhole looking out toward the Rhine River. Sgt. Galloway, my platoon sergeant, left
me alone in the darkness and told me to stay alert for any German activity across the
Rhine. I would be relieved in two hours. It was a bitter cold night and very dark but
I could see smoke coming out of the German fortifications. I was getting colder by
the minute and I kept thinking how bad our positions were. The next thing someone
grabbed me from behind and I thought a German patrol had me. Here it was Sgt.
Galloway who had snuck up on me and gave me a good scare and chewed me out for
not being more alert."
The French village where the company was billeted was very small with not
more than fifty or sixty houses which were mostly two-storied on narrow winding
cobblestone streets. Each house had a basement and a hayloft. The occupants lived
in one part of each house and kept their cows, goats, and sheep in the other. None
of the streets ran parallel to one another and several streets converged at a square in
the center of the village. Facing the village square was the church (the tallest building), a school, and the town hall. In the center of the square was a large statue and
next to it was a hand operated water pump. During the day one could see the townsCOMPANY A 276TH INFANTRY
50
people going to the pump for
water, both for themselves and
their livestock. In the evenings
the town crier was heard ringing
his bell, and when the people
were assembled, he read the
news of the day. Typical of
many small French and German
villages, there were no newspapers, no running water, and no
plumbing. It seemed to the men
that church bells were ringing at
all hours. The area was predominately Catholic and they rang the
bells for the Angelus at six a.m.,
noon, and six p.m. daily and also
Rhine River Outposts by Pfc Eddie Tsukimura
before and during Masses and funerals.
Early on, some of the men were a little edgy about the church bells, thinking
that they could be some sort of signal to the enemy. After all they were in the Alsace,
which territory had changed hands between the French and the Germans several
times in modern history. From 1870 to 1918 the provinces were under German rule.
The Germans took the territory again in 1940. The Alsatians spoke both German and
French, which tended to make the doughboys more apprehensive. Some Alsace
families were perhaps more loyal to Germany than to France and some of those had
men fighting in the German Wehrmacht and in the SS.
Twenty-four hours after taking up positions on the Rhine, the Regiment was
moved a few miles north to the town of Newhousen, France to occupy similar
positions. At the time no one was aware that the purpose of the move was to further
thin out the already thin lines in order to make more men available for movement to
the Ardennes front. The new positions were foxholes and dugouts thirty to forty
yards apart, and were occupied by one or two men each. They continued to man the
positions for two hours at a time. That routine went on around the clock, and the men
got very little sleep in the bitter cold. On the plus side, the cooks managed to bring
up one hot meal each day. During daylight hours, one could observe the enemy
soldiers entering and leaving their fortified positions on the Siegfried Line across the
river. Occasionally the men exchanged small arms fire with the enemy, but due to
51
Alsace-Lorraine was originally neither French nor German, but had been fought over for
centuries. In 1648, Louis XIV made Alsace-Lorraine part of France. For more than 200 years the
region remained French until the Franco-Prussian war when Germany annexed Alsace and part of
Lorraine by force. German became the official language, and French was forbidden by law. The
men were conscripted into the German Army. Following World War I in 1918, Alsace-Lorraine
was returned to France, again by force. After the fall of France in 1940, the region was
reincorporated into the German Reich. The German Government resettled thousands of ethnic
Germans in the region, gave them land, and urged them to intermarry with the Alsatians. The
men were drafted into the Wehrmacht and sent to fight against the Red Army on the Eastern
Front where they would be less inclined to desert to the enemy. Some men who believed in the
German cause, enlisted in the Wehrmacht and the Waffen SS. Many families in Alsace had
someone, voluntarily or involuntarily, serving in the German Army
the great distance, the fire was not effective. Everyone was constantly plagued by the
thought that the Germans would eventually discover that they could come across the
Rhine in force and easily penetrate the meager defenses.
During that period, the First Platoon was designated to patrol a section of the
west bank that was not visible from the MLR. Its mission was to observe the actions
of the Germans in and around their pill boxes and to attempt to pinpoint possible
weak points in their defenses and locate the areas that they would most likely use to
send patrols across the river. While a detail was patrolling the area, the men suddenly
heard aircraft overhead and dove into the woods. An ME 109 and a Folkwolf 190
passed over so low that the GIs could look into the cockpits and see the pilots.
Fortunately, neither pilot seemed to have spotted the patrol. Lt. Doenges told the
men later that two German planes were shot down just a few miles away. That night
the patrol was ordered to deploy along the river and keep the pillboxes under
observation. Digging in was out of the question on the rocky riverbank so the men
had to use folds and depressions in the ground for shelter. They ate cold K rations,
observed total blackout conditions, and kept the under observation the Germans who
slept in warm bunkers and probably ate hot chow.
The vigil on the Rhine River front was a crash learning experience for the
green troops. They were exposed to some of the hardships of war such as spending
the nights exposed to frigid weather, the constant fear that the enemy would sneak
up on them in the dark, getting used to confusion and not knowing what was going
on, not being able to smoke during the hours in the dugouts, and hearing real or
imaginary sounds in the forests. The men learned how to distinguish German
52
artillery and mortar fire from their own. There is a distinct difference in sound
between incoming mail and outgoing mail. During their stint at manning the
defensive positions and patrolling the west bank of the Rhine, very few men in the
company came in close contact with enemy soldiers. They were not seen crossing the
river during the daylight hours; however, there was evidence that German patrols,
came across the river at night and infiltrated past the MLR. Those patrols gave the
men on the outposts some anxious moments. It was there on the Rhine that Company
A suffered its first casualty of the war.
Home on the Rhine by Pfc Eddie Tsukimura
Several hours after dark on New Years Eve, a German patrol crossed the river
and attacked a forward outpost, manned by Sgt. John Cummings. Cummings, armed
with a BAR, was alone in his foxhole when the enemy patrol attacked and sprayed
the area with automatic weapons. The men heard his BAR return the hostile fire, but
by the time his buddies got near the outpost, they found his foxhole empty. All that
remained was his bloody steel helmet with one bullet hole in the center. There was
53
blood in the foxhole and more blood on the ground about twenty feet away, which
suggested that Sgt. Cummings may have hit at least one enemy soldier before he fell.
No bodies were found, nor were Cummings' BAR and other equipment ever recovered. Everyone hoped and prayed that he was only wounded and captured, but that
was doubtful as there was too much blood in the hole. That was Company A's first
casualty and first bitter taste of real war. New Year's Eve 1944 was the most
distressful ushering in of a new year ever spent by those GIs, and they had a hell of
a year to look forward to.
Sketch by Peter “Tex” Bennet, HQ 2nd Battalion 276th Infantry
54
The attack on Sgt. John Cummings' position not only alerted the men in the
other nearby dugouts, but also awakened those that were asleep in the village. For
the next few hours, everyone was on guard, tense and peering into the blackness with
the expectation that the enemy would strike again. The rifle platoon sergeants,
Wagger, Galloway and Brewer, maintained constant contact with their squad leaders
while the latter repeatedly checked on their men in the foxholes. Everyone was on
edge, and no one shut his eyes the rest of the night.
An hour before dawn on New Years Day-1945, the platoon leaders sent their
runners out to the squad leaders with orders to prepare to "move out." They told the
sergeants to pull the men back from the outposts and have them assemble in
Newhousen. It was essential that the withdrawal from the dugouts be absolutely
silent and under cover so that the Germans would not become aware that a troop
movement was taking place. In Newhousen, the men were quickly loaded into
waiting DUKWs known to the GIs as "DUCKS." DUKW was the acronym for a two
and one-half ton six-by-six amphibious military vehicle. The cargo body was
watertight and it was equipped with a propeller and a rudder for use when traveling
on water. When the men of Company A first saw their mode of transportation, they
were shocked and were sure that their destination was to be somewhere on the other
side of the river. It would be daylight soon so why in the hell would they cross the
wide river when they could easily be seen? They had neither the logistical capability
nor the manpower to go up against the German pill boxes on the Siegfried Line. As
the fully loaded DUCKS were starting to pull out, they drove up on the levee in clear
view of the Germans. The caravan rode on the levee for about a quarter of a mile
before turning off. None of the rank and file was ever told the reason for that very
strange maneuver. It may have been intentional to give the Germans the impression
that the Americans were equipped to make an amphibious assault or it may have been
a stupid mistake. All were greatly relieved when they eventually discovered that they
would not be making an attempt to cross the Rhine that morning. That unusual mode
of transportation took them a few miles north to the recently liberated Alsace town
of Oberhoffen. Company A and the other First Battalion companies were billeted in
former German Army barracks at Kamp d'Oberhoffen.
At Kamp d'Oberhoffen, each man was issued additional rifle ammunition and
hand grenades, two days supply of K rations, cigarettes and tropical Hershey bars.
The platoon leaders ordered their men to stand by and remain in close contact with
their squad leaders. They were to check and clean their weapons, put on dry socks
if necessary, and get some rest. The squad leaders told everyone to remain fully
55
clothed and ready to move out at a moment's notice. If one wanted to leave the area
for any reason, he first had to have the permission of his squad leader. Conversely,
the squad leader had to know the whereabouts of each of his men at all times. To
make a call of nature, one had to take a buddy with him, and not be away from the
squad area for more than ten minutes. There was no lack of security. At any given
time, nearly one-fourth of the men were standing guard and walking posts. The
atmosphere at Kamp d'Oberhoffen with the tight internal and external security could
only be described as extremely tense.
The inexplicable tight security led many to ask: "What the hell is going on?"
"What's going to happen next?" There were no answers forthcoming to either of
those questions. Neither the Company Commander nor the Platoon Leaders knew
any more about the situation than did the enlisted men. The sudden and frequent
moves during the previous week, without apparent reasons or objectives, led the
troops to speculate that confusion and panic had taken over those in command. To
the men, everything was completely SNAFU.
It was rumored that the enemy was advancing in force toward the garrison at
Oberhoffen and was threatening to recapture Alsace-Lorraine. Rumors were
prevalent that the entire Western Front was in danger of collapse and that it would
be only a matter of hours before the battalion would face the might of the advancing
German Army. Some men who spoke German or French learned that the local
population was just as nervous and perhaps more confused than the GIs. After
conversing with some Alsatians, Sgt. John Haller remarked, "Hell, these people say
that we are losing this damn war." The civilian population feared reprisals if the
Nazis returned. Further, they did nothing to dispel the rumors that the enemy was
probably coming back. (After the Trailblazers moved on, the Germans did return and
attack Oberhoffen, recapture the village and cause severe destruction.) The Alsatians
had good reason to be concerned. Hitler did not regard the Alsace-Lorraine as
French territory but as an integral part of Germany. He would view those who might
have aided the Americans as traitors to the Third Reich and treat them accordingly.
That evening S/Sgt. Pupinski and his crew fixed a well needed and well
received hot meal. The meal was nothing more than fried spam, boiled dehydrated
potatoes, canned beets, GI bread and coffee. There was a time back in the States
when most of the men would bitch at such fare, but to those cold and hungry troops,
it was a hot meal and far superior to cold K rations. Pupinski was a hero, where
under different circumstances he would have been considered a bum.
56
At Kamp d'Oberhoffen, another hero came on the scene. Not many men were
well acquainted with Pfc Don Carroll, Able Company's Mail Clerk, but his
outstanding work was well known to them all. He worked quietly behind the scenes
bringing up the letters and packages and getting the troops' letters safely on their way
to the U.S. That day some men got their first mail from home, which was received
with more enthusiasm than Pupinski's hot chow. When it came to a choice of going
to chow or to mail call, very often mail call got the nod. There was something about
a letter from home that lifted the spirits of the doughboy as nothing else could. A
letter from home took a man completely away from his hardships. For a few minutes
he was in another world, where he seemed to forget everything that was going on
around him. His thoughts drifted back to his loved ones thousands of miles away.
He was forever starved for mail from home. He read the letters again and again, and
frequently read parts of letters to his buddies. On occasion, he would pass a letter
around for others to read.
The night of January 1, 1945 at Kamp d'Oberhoffen, everyone pulled his share
of guard duty and got what rest he could. During the night, one would see an
occasional flare in the northern sky. The rumble of artillery was also heard coming
from the north. In the morning rumors circulated that the German troops started an
offensive action and were attacking American defenses near the town of Bitche,
France. None of the men had ever heard of the place nor did they know where it was.
To most American soldiers, the names of remote French towns were new and
meaningless. In that instance, the men chose to deliberately mispronounce the name
Bitche. The platoon leaders assembled their respective platoons and told the men that
they would be moving out shortly, they would continue in VI Corps reserve, and they
could expect to be committed to action in a moment's notice. Hardly anyone in the
outfit knew that the 276th Infantry was then attached to the 79th Infantry Division.
Reports of intense fighting in the villages and towns to the north were no
longer mere rumors. They had become reality. Taking full advantage of the element
of surprise, German spearheads broke through the American lines near the towns of
Bitche and Saareguemines. The enemy was threatening to encircle and annihilate the
outnumbered American Divisions in that sector (Map 2, pg 48).
In the midmorning of January 2, 1945, under dark grey skies, the three
battalions of the 276th Infantry Regiment climbed aboard the familiar canvascovered six-by-six Army trucks. They were soon on their way to another unknown
destination. The low overcast, which at times turned to an icy fog, made it
57
impossible for the men to even guess in what direction they were going. The convoy
crossed the Alsace Plain and turned northwest into Les Vosges mountains. They
traveled on winding roads so narrow that frequently pine boughs scraped the sides
of the trucks. When a branch scraped against the ribs that held the canvas covers in
place, it sounded like machine gun fire strafing the truck. The first time that
happened to the truck hauling two squads of the Second Platoon, every man bailed
out and hit the ground. Often the trucks slid and skidded on the frozen roadway.
More than once the men were sure that their conveyance was going to slip off a steep
embankment. For several hours the caravan of olive drab GI trucks loaded with
freezing infantrymen made its way into Les Vosges mountains. The men got colder
and had to keep moving their toes and hands to keep them from getting numb. In the
late afternoon they arrived at Zittersheim, France, a very small hamlet near the Moder
River. The men were used to jumping from the beds of GI trucks, but this time they
had to be very careful and slowly climb out. With the weight of their full field packs,
ammunition and equipment, it would be very easy to break or sprain a cold, numb
ankle.
The mission of the 276th Infantry was to occupy and defend positions from
Volksberg to Ingwiller in Les Vosges mountains. The First Battalion was deployed
in reserve positions south of the village of Wingen-sur-Moder (Map 3, pg. 59).
Again, without the men knowing it, the Regiment was reassigned and attached to the
45th Infantry Division. That repeated movement from place to place with no advance
notice nor real engagement with the enemy, always with a sense of urgency, made the
men most apprehensive. They would have been more troubled had they known that
Task Force Herren was reassigned to two different divisions in two days time. More
than ever, nearly everyone was under the impression that the high ranking officers
making the decisions did not know what they were doing, and perhaps were reacting
to panic. Those days and many more to follow, could best be described as times of
utter CONFUSION. The doughboys of Company A were learning very rapidly that
the life of a combat infantryman was one of day to day continuous, never-ending
confusion. The men at the front were taught to obey orders and not to question the
reason why. Real war was definitely different than Stateside maneuvers and field
problems.
58
59
The rifleman fights without promise of either reward
or relief. Behind every river there's another hill - and
behind that hill another river.
After weeks or months in the line, only a wound can
offer him the comfort of safety, shelter, and a bed.
Those who are left to fight, fight on, evading death but
knowing that with each day of evasion they have
exhausted one more chance for survival. Sooner or
later, unless victory comes this chase must end on the
litter or in the grave.
General Omar Bradley
60
OPERATION NORDWIND
7. OPERATION NORDWIND
To comprehend the combat activities of Company A during the ArdennesAlsace Campaign, one would need to know a little about the campaign and how the
Company fit into the total military operation. The 70th Infantry Division was one of
a dozen or more divisions that made up the U.S. Seventh Army, commanded by Lt.
General Alexander Patch. The Seventh Army was in turn part of the Sixth Army
Group, commanded by Lt. Gen. Jacob L Devers. One other army in the Sixth Army
Group was the French First Army under the command of General de Tassigny.
Late in December 1944, the Western Front extended from Basal, Switzerland
to the North Sea; however, the precise locations of the various sectors of the front
were changing from day to day. Except for a large German salient west of the Rhine
River in the area of Colmar, the Western Front extended north-northeast along the
Rhine to Lauterbourg, France. There, the front turned sharply westward to St. Avold,
France, which is a few miles south of the German city of Saarbrucken. From St.
Avold, the front ran northwest to Luxembourg, then north through Belgium, Holland
and west to the North Sea. The Seventh Army sector of the MLR extended 124 miles
from Strasbourg (the capital city of Alsace) through Lauterbourg to St. Avold (Map
2, pg. 48). On the Seventh Army's right flank, the First French Army defended the
MLR south of Strasbourg to the Swiss Border. On the Seventh Army's left flank,
General George Patton's Third Army was moving northwest to counterattack the
enemy forces that were advancing into the Belgian Ardennes. Earlier, the Third
Army sector included the front between Bitche and St. Avold. General Patton
vacated that large sector of the front when he turned the Third Army to the northwest
61
OPERATION NORDWIND
to help stem the Nazi onslaught. Meanwhile, the First Army under the command of
Lt. Gen. Courtney Hodges, was engaged in a bitter conflict in the area of Bastogne,
Belgium and was in desperate need of reinforcements. General Eisenhower ordered
the Seventh Army to extend its already desperately thin lines westward to fill the
huge gap in the MLR left undefended by the Third Army.
The Nazi winter offensive was Adolf Hitler's brainchild, which he did not
reveal to his generals until as late as September 1944. Field Martial Gerd von
Rundstedt was recalled from retirement for the second time and given command of
the entire operation. Hitler named the first phase of that winter offensive "WACHT
AM RHEIN." The Americans dubbed it the "Battle of the Bulge," but officially the
Allies considered it as one phase of the Ardennes-Alsace campaign. On December
16, 1944, von Rundstedt launched "Wacht Am Rhein." It was a major blitzkrieg
across a 45-mile front against the U.S. First Army in the Belgian Ardennes. More
than a dozen German infantry divisions with four panzer divisions, participated in the
initial thrust. It took the entire Allied high command completely by surprise. The
attack came through heavily forested snow covered mountains at a time when the
weather was at its worst. A very low and dense overcast diminished visibility, the
temperature was freezing, and sleet and snow flurries denied the Allies the use of air
reconnaissance and air support. Initially, the Nazi spearheads drove six to eight miles
a day into the American lines. Wherever possible, they isolated and bypassed strong
points of resistance and overran many rear echelon support units. When the German
Panzers overran the area, they literally drove General Hodges, the commanding
general of the U.S. First Army, out of his headquarters at Spa, Belgium.
The Nazi objectives of "Wacht Am Rhein" were to penetrate the U.S. First
Army defenses, capture Bastogne, break out into the open country, and drive to
Antwerp, Belgium. Once in Antwerp, the Germans would be in a position to regain
their rocket launching sites and resume the devastating V-2 bombardment of
England. Loss of the seaport facilities at Antwerp would be a devastating blow to the
Americans and British because most of the Allied shipments of war matériel arrived
in Europe through Antwerp.
On December 22, 1944, General Eisenhower ordered General Patton to turn
the Third Army northwest to the Ardennes. The mission of the Third Army was to
lend support to the besieged troops at Bastogne and to help stem the German
blitzkrieg into Belgium and Luxembourg. The fighting in the Ardennes was fierce
62
OPERATION NORDWIND
and Bastogne was under siege; however, the Nazi offensive began to falter in face
of the Third Army counterattack.
As a result of the Seventh Army assuming defensive responsibility for a large
part of the Third Army sector, the lines of defense from Strasbourg to St. Avold were
dreadfully thin. In many places along the Rhine River, the MLR was maned merely
by outposts and patrols. Some sectors of the line were defended only by patrolling
formations. Many positions were manned by untested troops who had recently
arrived in France and had not fired a shot in combat. There were many gaps in the
MLR, through which German infantry and armor could have penetrated with very
little opposition from the American troops. In the area of Colmar, in what was
known as the "Colmar Pocket," the German 19th Army maintained substantial forces
west of the Rhine. They were ardently defending and reinforcing that salient.
Concrete and steel fortifications ran next to the east bank of the Rhine River.
Heinrich Himmler's Oberrhein Army Group occupied the bunkers and defended
Germany from Allied invasion of the Black Forest.
"OPERATION NORDWIND" was the official name given by Hitler to the
second phase of his winter offensive. Its mission was to launch a series of surprise
attacks into Les Vosges mountains of Alsace-Lorraine and the Alsace Plain (Map 4,
pg. 64). The strategy was for the German First Army to strike south from the vicinity
of Saareguemines, Rimling, and Bitche in Les Vosges mountains. It was to capture
and hold the village of Wingen-sur-Moder and the mountain exit at Ingwiller, then
continue south to Saverne. The next attack was to be launched south from the village
of Wassembourg to Haguenau. Next, Himmler's Oberrhein Army Group was to attack
from the Black Forest westward across the Rhine River at Gambsheim. One column
would drive north to envelop Haguenau and another would turn south and attack
Strasbourg. Finally, two columns were to attack northward from the Colmar Pocket.
One column was to advance to Saverne and the other was to link up with the forces
from the Black Forest driving toward Strasbourg. German First Army troops attacking
from the north were to meet at Saverne with German 19th Army troops attacking
northward from the Colmar Pocket. Saverne was a strategically important crossroads
that controlled the main supply routes to the U.S. Seventh Army and the French First
Army. If the two German Armies were successful in closing the trap at Saverne, they
would sever the vital Allied supply routes. The result would be the isolation of all
American and French troops west of Les Vosges mountains, and the Germans would
obtain a mountain exit to the Alsace Plain to accommodate awaiting panzer divisions.
63
OPERATION NORDWIND
64
OPERATION NORDWIND
The second priority of Operation Nordwind was to capture the City of Strasbourg, the capital of Alsace and the largest city in the region. Hitler was well aware
that Strasbourg was the symbol of French patriotism and dear to the hearts of the
French people. He reasoned that the attack into Alsace-Lorraine, coupled with the fall
of Strasbourg, would be a horrible embarrassment for General de Gaulle. Those
events would most likely result in the collapse of de Gaulle's fragile provisional
government and in all probability take France out of the war.
The overall objective of Operation Nordwind was to draw American forces out
of the Ardennes. Hitler rationalized that a successful attack into Alsace-Lorraine and
the capture of Saverne would compel the Americans to shift forces from the north to
Alsace. That would greatly minimize the allied resistance to von Rundstedt's drive
into Belgium and enable the Germans to regain the offensive initiative in the
Ardennes. That would make it possible to continue their drive to Antwerp. Hitler's
last desperate hope of the war was to recapture Antwerp. There Germany would be
in a position to resume the rocket bombardment against England with new and
improved V-2 rocketry, and, with any luck at all, force England to sue for peace. The
Fuehrer relied heavily on Germany's being able to destroy the sometimes weak
coalition that existed between the Americans, British and French.
The success of Operation Nordwind depended on the element of surprise.
There could be no advance artillery barrages. The attacks at the various points of
departure had to be made with sufficient strength to ensure breaking through the
American lines and getting to their objectives. In preparation for Operation
Nordwind, the Germans took advantage of the dense cloud cover to reinforce their
armies at the key points north of Bitche and in the Black Forest. They also poured
troops across the Rhine to reinforce their divisions in the Colmar Pocket. When
planning Operation Nordwind, the German High Command was certain that the
operation could only succeed if utmost secrecy were maintained until the last minute.
The divisions and regiments poised for the attacks kept forward reconnaissance to a
minimum. As a result, it is probable that gaps in the American MLR went undetected
by the Germans. The restriction on reconnaissance did not adversely affect the
German 361st Volks Grenadier Division in the Bitche area as that unit already had a
thorough knowledge of the terrain.
Les Vosges were extremely rugged and inhospitable mountains, with very few
improved roads. Hamlets in valleys and ravines, were all very small, quite primitive
and lacked most modern conveniences. Roads connecting the hamlets were little
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OPERATION NORDWIND
more than what Americans would term wagon trails or logging roads. The weather
was bitter cold, well below the freezing point, with abundant snow and ice. The sky
was continuously dark and overcast, and frequently fog and clouds blanketed the
mountains and valleys. It was not uncommon to encounter a snow storm during a
dense fog.
On December 27, 1944, Adolph Hitler summoned his First Army Commanding Generals to his Headquarters where he emphasized the utmost importance of
Operation Nordwind. He was apparently confident of its certain success against the
extremely thin American lines. Besides springing the trap on the U.S. Seventh and
the French First Armies, the U.S. Third Army would cease to be a formidable threat
to the German offensive through the Ardennes. Some German Generals did not share
Hitler's enthusiasm for the ambitious operation, but refrained from expressing their
opinions for fear of inciting the Fuhrer's wrath. They clearly recalled that some of
their peers recently faced firing squads because Hitler suspected that they took part
in the nearly successful assassination attempt on his life.
As the last day of the year drew to a close, there was very little activity in
Alsace-Lorraine, yet all along the front from Strasbourg to St. Avold the troops were
very restless and stayed on the alert. Many seemed to sense that something was going
to happen to break the uneasy calm that prevailed. Intense fighting continued in the
Ardennes Forest, but the Seventh Army troops on the line had very little knowledge
of what was going on in that sector. There were rumors that another German
blitzkrieg was about to take place. The local civilians appeared jittery, and many
were seen evacuating their villages with whatever personal possessions they could
carry or pull in crude hand carts. Though the Alsatians were nominally French, many
spoke German and most were bilingual. There was a definite German feel to the
province. It was not surprising that early on the GIs felt uneasy in the presence of the
natives, even though most of them were loyal French citizens.
Shortly before midnight on December 31, 1944, near Bitche, the second and
final phase of the Nazi winter offensive suddenly began. An enormous surprise
attack was launched by German Generalmajor Alfred Philippi's 361st Volks
Grenadier Division and seven other German divisions, three of them elite SS
divisions. Operation Nordwind, the last major German offensive of World War II,
was a reality. The troops defending the MLR at Saareguemines, Rimling, Bitche and
Wassembourg suddenly found themselves engaged in vicious combat with the enemy
hordes that descended from the north. In the midnight blackness, the German
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OPERATION NORDWIND
infantrymen, clad in white camouflage uniforms, charged the American positions.
They came in droves, firing automatic weapons and screaming and yelling. In the
darkness of the night, the troops defending the sparsely manned MLR were a little
disoriented and in a state of confusion. Many Americans were forced to fall back
from their positions under intense enemy machine gun and automatic weapons fire.
That was the grim situation on the Seventh Army Sector of the Western Front
when the Trailblazers were moving from the Rhine River to Les Vosges mountains.
The men of Company A had no idea what was going on around them. They heard
many rumors of intense fighting but that was all. They did not know where they
were, but they did know that it was damn cold!
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OPERATION NORDWIND
It is the soldier
Author Unknown
It is the Soldier who salutes the flag
serves under the flag and
whose coffin is draped by the flag
who gives the protester
the right to burn the flag
It is the soldier
not the reporter
who has given us
freedom of the press
It is the soldier
not the lawyer
who has given us
the right to a fair trial
It is the soldier
not the campus organizer
who has given us
freedom to demonstrate
It is the soldier
not the poet
that has given us
freedom of speech
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OPERATION NORDWIND
8. WINGEN-SUR-MODER
Wingen-sur-Moder after the fighting–Catholic Church spire in center (Photo by Garstki)
A light snow was falling when Company A arrived at Zittersheim on January
2,1945. The little village in Les Vosges Mountains was buzzing with military activity as it was the site of two regimental command posts: the 276th Infantry and 179th
Infantry (45th Division). Following a short wait on the side of the road, the men
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WINGEN-SUR-MODER
were told to fall in, pick up their packs, shoulder their weapons, and move out. For
once they were glad to be on the march as it allowed them to limber up and get a little
circulation and warmth in their near frozen feet and numb limbs. They had been
sitting much too long on the benches of the six-by-sixes. At that stage of the game,
they did not even think about how far they might have to walk or what might be in
store for them.
The Company marched a little over three miles through deep snow to a forest
south of the village of Wingen-sur-Moder where it bivouacked for the night. Again
no one had the faintest idea where he was. Snow continued to fall that afternoon and
early evening but the night turned clear and bitter cold. When the men took up their
positions, they set about caring for their feet and checking their weapons. Before
dark they made preparations for all-around security and posted sentries in and around
the company perimeter. Everything was deathly quiet until about midnight when a
Third Platoon outpost guard saw a German patrol moving in the clearing to the north
of the bivouac area. A German soldier (presumably a scout) entered the woods but
was frightened away by a single rifle shot from the sentry. The patrol quickly disappeared into the darkness. Pfc Ollie Davis reported that he really didn't think that he
could hit the German in the dark, but he fired the shot because he wanted to be sure
that he was not the only one awake in case something happened. The rest of the night
was quiet and uneventful. Since they were aware that there were German patrols in
the woods, everyone was doubly alert.
The following day, January 3, Company A was ordered to move from the
woods and establish defensive positions two hundred yards south of Wingen (Map
5, pg. 72). As the Company emerged from the forest, the men saw a peaceful
appearing hamlet nestled in a snow covered valley. The village and the surrounding
area looked very much like a winter scene one might expect to find on a Christmas
card back home. Smoke rising from a few chimneys made the houses appear warm
and inviting, but the men did not have the opportunity to enter the town. Wingen sat
in a small valley in Les Vosges mountains on the Moder River between Bitche to the
north and Saverne to the south. Densely forested mountains descended to the north
edge of the village. Gentle sloping snow covered fields rose from the south and
extended for two to three hundred yards. The open fields extended to the Kirchberg,
a heavily forested area. Beyond the Kirchberg, the mountains ascended abruptly. A
railroad on a high steep embankment ran from east to west on the north edge of the
village. The Moder River, which was in reality a small stream, flowed from west to
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WINGEN-SUR-MODER
east on the south edge of town. The railroad embankment and the Moder's icy water
later proved to be formidable barriers.
The other companies of the First Battalion were spread out over the
countryside for about a mile and a half. Most men of Company A did not know
where any of the other units were situated and some did not know where anyone was
located except the members of their own squads and platoons. Company D (heavy
weapons company) was positioned in the woods about 500 yards west of Company
A. Company B was deployed across the Moder Valley in the wooded area northeast
of the village, about one mile from Company A. Company C was positioned about
500 yards southeast of Company A. None of the companies of the First Battalion
were close enough to one another to maintain physical contact.
The 276th Infantry Regiment continued in Corps Reserve, supposedly four or
five kilometers behind the front lines. Its mission was to prepare supplemental
defense positions from Volksberg to Ingwiller (Map 3, pg. 59), a distance of
approximately eleven miles. The men of Company A were totally unaware of the
strategic importance of Wingen to the American and French Armies and also its
importance to the Germans. Wingen was critical to the Allies because through it
passed the MSR (Main Supply Route) to the Seventh Army troops on the Saareguemines-Rimling-Bitche sector of the front.
When the Company reached the edge of the forest, Captain Hendrickson
deployed his platoons and the men were ordered to dig in. Lt. Schollander's Second
Platoon faced the south edge of the village with the platoon's exposed left flank
overlooking the Zittersheim road that ran out of town to the southwest. Lt.
McClintock's Third Platoon also fronted the village about fifty yards to the right of
the Second Platoon. Both forward platoons were positioned about one hundred yards
from the south edge of the village in an exposed snow covered area between the
village and the Kirchberg Forest. Each squad leader positioned the one and two man
foxholes in irregular patterns about five yards apart. Lt. Doenges' First Platoon was
in the reserve position back at the edge of the woods. The Company CP was in the
woods near the First Platoon as was Lt. Jenkins' Fourth (Weapons) Platoon. There
was a small cemetery inside a five foot stone wall at the south edge of the village.
Directly beyond the cemetery was the Protestant Church with its towering steeple that
commanded an excellent view of all Company A's positions.
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WINGEN-SUR-MODER
From time to time light Army vehicles from other units were observed on the
Zittersheim Road going in and out of Wingen, so the Company A men knew that
there were friendly troops nearby.
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WINGEN-SUR-MODER
When the men began to dig in, many of them encountered a startling new experience --- trying to dig in frozen ground. Those accustomed to warm climates such
as in California, Hawaii and Florida, had not previously given any thought to the
notion that ground could freeze. The entrenching tools ricocheted off the terra firma
as though they were striking concrete. As the men laboriously chopped away, fragments of frozen earth repeatedly flew up and struck them in the face and blisters
formed on their hands. To everyone it seemed like a real exercise in futility;
however, once they broke through the foot of frozen crust, the digging was a little
less arduous. The entire afternoon and part of that night were spent at that
backbreaking chore. A few resourceful individuals attempted to blast their way down
with hand grenades but even that did not work very well. Besides it was very
dangerous because the irregular shrapnel from a grenade does not travel in straight
lines so it was anybody's guess where the fragments would end up. The platoon
sergeants soon called a halt to that ingenious method of excavating. By nightfall,
many had barely gotten through the frozen crust, and very few had dug deep enough
to afford them much protection if they should need it. Besides, their hearts were not
really into digging foxholes that they thought they would never use.
After darkness set in, T/Sgts. Galloway and Wagger were told that the Second
and Third Platoons could move their men back into the Kirchberg and bivouac in the
woods with the rest of the Company. No one, including the sergeants, could understand why the CO ordered them to deploy in that open exposed field in the first place,
so when they were told to move back to cover, they were more than willing to pack
up their collapsible entrenching tools and follow orders.
The first order of business after moving back to the Kirchberg was to care for
their feet and weapons. Fires were strictly out of the question, so chow that night was
cold K rations with no hot coffee. They took off their boots, rubbed their cold feet,
put on dry socks and took care of their rifles. The men filled their canteens with ice
cold water from the lister bags, threw in a few halazone tablets to kill the bacteria and
picked up some extra K rations. Squad leaders posted the guards and finally the men,
fully-clothed, got into their newly issued sleeping bags. Their bones ached from the
backbreaking task of picking away at the frozen ground during the long dreary
sunless day. The sleeping bags were warm enough, but due to their peculiar shape
(tapered at the top and bottom like the outline of coffins), it was difficult to get in and
out of them. Once a guy was inside and zipped up, it was a chore getting the bag
unzipped. Thus the troops were quick to label them mummy bags. The cloud cover
shut off the light from the moon and stars, which made the night so dark that one
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WINGEN-SUR-MODER
could not see his hand in front of his face. Moving about to change guards and to
make calls of nature was next to impossible in the total blackness. To smoke a
cigarette, one had to get under a blanket or shelter-half so that no light could be seen.
Smoking under those conditions should have been enough to make any man give up
the habit. The stale smoke trapped under the blanket developed a foul nauseating
odor and made one's eyes water and burn, but the soldier’s addiction was not easy to
overcome. Though everyone thought that the nearest enemy was a few miles distant,
the men had to be constantly on the alert for unfriendly patrols. A cigarette, match
or any flash of light was visible for several hundred yards.
Shortly before the crack of dawn the following morning, January 4, those who
were asleep were suddenly awakened by the most intensive machine gun and
automatic weapon fire that any had ever heard. It sounded like a small arms
ammunition dump had been put to the torch. Machine gun tracers sprayed the open
snow covered fields between the bivouac area and the village. Enemy flares slowly
drifted down illuminating the area and cast eerie shadows in the forest. Initially many
GIs were somewhat disoriented and confused when they awoke to that sudden
outburst of fire, flares and tracers. A few had trouble getting out of the damn
mummy bags which caused some concern; however, other than that there was no
panic. No one knew for sure what was happening but everyone knew that it
definitely was not what they might have expected. One thing was evident at first
awakening. The "Brrrrrrrruup brrrrrrrrrup" of the automatic weapons was not
coming from American machine guns. The men were very familiar with the sound
of their own guns. Everyone fully expected that they would soon be engaged in
combat, but no one expected it to start so abruptly when half the Company was
"sacked out." Where did the Germans come from? When they broke through the
MLR, why were the troops in reserve not alerted? Were there not communications
between the front lines and the reserves? It did not take long for the men of
Company A to realize that the "front" had moved to Wingen-sur-Moder.
It was there at Wingen-sur-Moder that those GIs quickly learned to recognize
the difference between the sound of American and German automatic weapons.
Earlier on the Rhine River, they learned to tell the difference between the sounds of
American and German artillery. The American machine gun was a rapid fire weapon,
but the German burp-gun or machine pistol fired much faster than any American
weapon. Later the Trailblazers learned that the burp-gun (MP-40), an extraordinarily
intimidating submachine gun, was a new weapon for the German soldier. The MP-40
fired three times as fast as their former machine pistol; thus, it put out three times
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WINGEN-SUR-MODER
more rounds and literally filled the air with lead. At close range a squad of German
infantrymen, armed with burp-guns, had more than ten times the firepower than a
squad of American infantry. Each German squad carried two or more MP-40s
whereas the American squad was armed with rifles and one BAR.
Much earlier that morning, some men standing guard heard sounds of small
arms fire coming from the woods north of the village. After about forty-five minutes
the firing stopped and everything was silent. Other than for those few who heard that
earlier gun fire, the German attack on Wingen came as a total surprise. German
soldiers, armed with automatic weapons, came out of the forest and hit Wingen from
the north. They took full advantage of the element of surprise and caught the
townspeople and the American troops in the village fast asleep. During the attack,
they laid down a field of fire that was far more intense than the GIs ever thought
possible. The Germans were on the streets of Wingen before the troops occupying
the town responded to the attack.
In the confusion that followed, Company A lost communications with
Companies B and C, and for a time the Company was without radio contact with the
Battalion CP in the Kirchberg. The CO relied on his runner, Pfc Eddie Tsukimura,
who a few years earlier ran the marathon in high school. Within the company area,
the darkness and confusion made it difficult for the platoon leaders and platoon sergeants to get their men organized. They passed the word from man to man to be as
quiet as possible until it could be determined what they were up against. For a short
period, nearly every squad was on its own. Their reaction to the sudden attack was
left to the judgment of the individual squad leaders. Without exception, the squad
leaders and their assistants reacted to the turmoil in an exemplary manner. They
maintained some semblance of order in a situation that might have resulted in utter
chaos. With the first light of day, it became possible for the CO to regain contact
with the platoons and restore the chain of command. The Company was exposed on
all sides, front, rear, and both flanks. No one had the slightest idea of the enemy's
strength and precise locations except that some were obviously in Wingen. Were
they attacking in force, or were they a large combat patrol? Were they attacking on
a broad front, or was this a single spearhead? Though no one needed to be reminded,
everyone was alerted to the fact that there was a very real danger of enemy envelopment.
From the village, the men heard women and children screaming and crying,
dogs barking, the shrill noise of screeching roosters, and of course, the rapid
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WINGEN-SUR-MODER
brrrrrrrrrrrruup! brrrrrrrrrrrrruup! of the Nazi machine pistols. Since there was no
telephone communication, Captain Hendrickson dispatched Tsukimura to Battalion
Headquarters to report the enemy attack. He returned in less than an hour with a
message ordering the Company to dig in, hold the line and establish contact with
Company B. To add to the confusion, a short time later a major (who some recognized as the Battalion Exec. Officer) ran into the company area, waving his Service
45 pistol in the air and hysterically shouting, "Take to the hills, men; the Germans
are coming!" He was pursued by Major Curtis Brooks, Battalion S-3, who
admonished everyone to hold their positions and ignore what they heard. The major
was later picked up at a roadblock and evacuated, a victim of Extreme Shock. No one
was aware that for a short time the First Battalion was without a CO or XO.
Fortunately, only a few men observed the major's actions; thus, the Company A
officers and noncoms were able to prevent any panic or disorder among the troops.
No one in Company A took the major seriously and no one "took to the hills."
The attacking enemy forces struck Wingen at the first light of day and rapidly
moved through the village. By nine in the morning the Germans had captured and
occupied the town, the high ground to the northeast of town, and established a
bridgehead on the south bank of the Moder River. They immediately went about
establishing a perimeter defense around the village then prepared to continue their
attack southward toward Saverne. Though no one in the outfit was aware of it at the
time, Company A was face to face with a determined German spearhead. In order for
the attackers to occupy the high ground in the wooded area south of Wingen, it was
necessary that they go through or around Company A. Regimental S-2 (Intelligence)
reported that there were no more than thirty to fifty German soldiers in the attack.
They were very likely short of ammunition and food, and they were presumably
willing to surrender if given the opportunity. The CO ordered the rifle platoons to
move up to the positions that they started to dig the previous day and hold the enemy
from those positions.
The First and Fourth Platoons encountered very little difficulty in reoccupying
their positions since they were at the fringe of the woods near bivouac area. It was
a much different story for the Second and Third Platoons since their positions were
about one hundred yards forward in the exposed area. Their attempts to reoccupy the
partially dug foxholes were thwarted by fierce opposition from machine gun and rifle
fire from the village and cemetery. Two of the Second Platoon's forward foxholes
were taken and occupied by the Germans. When the enemy fire became too intense
for the men to remain on their feet, they continued toward their positions by
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WINGEN-SUR-MODER
burrowing through the soft snow like moles. While the deep snow afforded no
protection from the enemy fire, it did impair to some extent the Germans’ ability to
observe and track the GIs’ movements. Using his walkie-talkie, Lt. Schollander
called for mortar support from the Weapons Platoon. S/Sgt. Russell Causey
responded by ordering his three mortar squads to commence lobbing 60mm mortar
shells over the Second Platoon men and at the enemy positions. While Causey's
squad leaders, Sgts. Maguire, Bower and Micherdzinski were zeroing in on their
targets, Lt. Schollander ordered S/Sgt. Cook and S/Sgt. "Red" Shelander to move
their squads out to their respective positions. Cook sent his two scouts, Frank Lowry
and Gene Bambrick, and two riflemen, Don Dubose who was armed with a grenade
launcher and Eugene Davis, to retake the two enemy held foxholes. The four men
ran, crept, and crawled through the snow to within thirty yards of the nearest enemy.
Meanwhile, Causey's mortar shells passed overhead and burst very close to the
Second Platoon's objective. Dubose, while under fire, placed a rifle grenade on the
parapet of a Second Platoon foxhole, which only a few seconds before was occupied
by two Germans. When the mortar bursts got closer to their targets and when
Dubose's grenade nearly made a direct hit, the enemy abandoned both foxholes.
They made a hasty retreat to join their comrades near the cemetery, but two never
made it to cover. When the two Germans turned tail and started to run, Lowry and
Davis dove into their shallow foxholes and started digging.
Taking advantage of the lull in German fire while Causey's mortars kept the
enemy pinned down, the rest of Cook's squad moved forward in short dashes through
the snow and took over the foxholes they started to dig the day before. Shelander and
Haller assembled their squad at the edge of the woods and started to work their way
down to their foxholes. When they approached the clearing, Sgt. Haller gave the arm
signal for the men to double time across the open field. Haller was the first one to
jump into his foxhole and when he looked around, he found that he was alone. None
of the men had followed. He stepped out of his hole, retraced his route and found the
rest of the squad still in the underbrush. The man next to Haller had missed his arm
signal; thus, the squad failed to follow. On the next signal, everyone made it across
the field to the positions and started to dig. Jim Skalitzky ran through the snow to his
foxhole only to find it occupied by two other GIs who had beaten him to it. They had
jumped into the first hole they saw when snipers bullets nearly got them. Skalitzky
took the only cover that he could find, which was behind a pile of dirt near the
foxhole. A sniper in the church tower fired a couple of shots that were near-misses
and kept him pinned down. A sergeant ran out from the woods, was nearly hit, got
behind the pile of dirt with Skalitzky, and asked where the sniper was. He told the
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WINGEN-SUR-MODER
sergeant he thought the fire was coming from the church tower and to keep his head
down. He was sure by that time the sniper had zeroed in on them and he would not
miss again. The sergeant wanted to see for himself and started to raise his head when
a shot rang out from the tower. The sniper's bullet pierced his helmet and grazed his
scalp. It then passed through the steel helmet and dropped on the sergeant's back.
He was bleeding profusely when Skalitzky turned on his side, opened a first aid
packet and tied a bandage to his head. There was a lot of blood and Skalitzky
thought that it was all from the sergeant's head wound until he discovered that he had
a cut on his thumb, which later became infected. Three other Second Platoon men
were wounded in the attempt to regain the positions.
Without accurate, close support from Causey's mortars and Harmon's machine
guns, the Second Platoon probably would not have recaptured its positions without
suffering many more casualties than it did. That interaction was the first opportunity
for a Company A rifle platoon to coordinate with the Weapons Platoon in actual
combat. Except for one mishap, the results were successful and that’s what counted.
The first mortar round was fired by Cameron Boyd, a mortar gunner in Sgt. Daniel
"Sgt. Thirteen" Micherdzinski's squad. (Micherdzinski was called Sgt. Thirteen
because there were thirteen letters in his name and also because Thirteen was much
easier to pronounce.) That first round was a little high and resulted in a tree burst
over the heads of the Mortar Section. Fortunately, no one was injured by the concussion, descending shrapnel and sharp chunks of wood; however, none of the GIs in the
Company would ever let Causey forget the incident. It was one of those events that
was serious when it happened, but brought on much laughter later on.
An enemy machine gun in the cemetery at the edge of the village commanded
a field of fire that prevented the Third Platoon from moving forward. Every attempt
to cross the open area between the woods and the foxholes met with devastating fire.
The Third Platoon Leader, Lt. Richard McClintock, decided to silence the machine
gun himself. He told S/Sgt. Wesley Nelker to have his squad fire like hell into the
enemy position while he made a run for it. If Nelker's men could keep the enemy
gunner pinned down for a few minutes, McClintock thought that he could knock him
out with a grenade. He dashed into the open and moved as fast as he could through
the deep snow, going one way then another while Nelker's riflemen pinned down the
gunner. They laid down a solid field of fire, but soon two other Germans were
responding with burp-guns from the cemetery. McClintock kept right on plodding
through the snow toward the enemy, but by the time he realized that he was caught
in a crossfire it was too late to turn back. The lieutenant was dead before he was able
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to get close enough to throw his grenade. The fighting had
hardly begun when Company A lost its first officer.
T/Sgt. Harold Wagger assumed leadership of the Third
Platoon and told his platoon guide, S/Sgt Jury to take over the
position of Platoon Sergeant. S/Sgt. Dan "Chief" Jury at age
35, was the oldest and perhaps the most respected NCO in the
Company. He was one of those rare men with the ability to do
well most anything he attempted. More than once, Jury was
offered a battlefield commission, but each time he turned it
down. He wanted to lead a platoon, but not as a commissioned officer.
Just as Lt. Schollander did a half hour earlier, Wagger
called upon the Weapons Platoon for mortar and machine gun
T/ Sgt. Daniel “Chief” Jury
support and Causey's mortar squads immediately went into
action again; however, that time without a tree burst. The enemy machine guns were
positioned in such a way that it was difficult for the 60mm mortars to get to them, but
the shell bursts were close enough to make the enemy take notice. The high
trajectory mortar fire reached down and exploded between the huge cemetery
monuments, and in a few minutes the machine guns in the graveyard were silent.
Wagger took advantage of the lull and sent Jury with S/Sgts. John Steiner’s and
Vaughn Chadbourn’s squads across the open area. Both squads made it to the
positions without mishap, and without wasting any precious time the digging got
under way. Half the men kept the enemy occupied while the other half dug with
every ounce of strength they had. After the two squads were deployed, Jury made his
way back to the edge of the Kirchberg to send S/Sgt Wesley Nelker’s squad forward.
While Jury was on his way back, he barely escaped being hit by a shot fired
by someone in the area of the Weapons Platoon. He recognized the culprit at once
as the Weapons Platoon Sergeant, T/Sgt. Edgar Etheredge, and wasted no time
getting to Etheredge and gave him an ass chewing in front of his men like no man
ever got. Etheredge was a head taller than Jury and outranked him, but that made no
difference to Jury who shouted at him in plain, GI English that any private would
know better than to shoot without identifying his target when there were riflemen out
front. "The next time you better not miss because there sure as hell will be no more
second chances!” Jury plodded away through the snow and for the first time the
Weapons Platoon men saw Etheredge without anything to say.
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When all the Second and Third Platoon riflemen were in their positions, no
one had to remind them to get the entrenching tools out and go to work on the
foxholes. The laborious process was continuously interrupted by burp-gun fire, but
it was amazing how much faster they could dig that morning than they could the day
before. When there is a real purpose for the digging and when under fire, one could
do the near impossible. The painful process of retaking and holding the positions
resulted in many casualties. The men were compelled to concentrate more on using
their entrenching tools than their rifles. Digging foxholes while in the prone position
and under fire was no easy chore. John Haller recalled he and "Red" Shelander
digging their two-man foxhole. “It was a typical hole, about three feet wide, four feet
long and four and a half feet deep. Little did we know that hole in the ground was
to be our home for the next fifty-four hours.” Other nearby foxholes would be the
last for several riflemen in their squad. Digging was constantly interrupted as the
enemy made repeated attempts to penetrate Company A's positions in order to expand
his bridgehead and get to the high ground in the Kirchberg. With supporting fire
from the Weapons Platoon, each German attack was effectively repelled. The GIs
on the line were determined to hold out, while the enemy was determined to drive
them out. That first exposure to fire and bloodshed ushered in the "baptism of fire"
for the men of Company A. They were green, but they were not slow learners.
The big question on everybody's mind and lips was, "Why the hell are we out
here fighting from this exposed field?" Strategically, it would have made far more
sense to have moved back with the other two platoons and make a stand at the edge
of the forest. When the Germans were ready to make their move, they could fight in
the open, not the GIs. An answer to that question never came. The men just chalked
it up to a case of battlefield SNAFU.
Toward mid afternoon, the Second and Third Platoons began to run short of
rifle ammunition and hand grenades. Until then, it never occurred to anyone that
there would not always be an ample supply. The squad leaders told their men to
exercise caution in the expenditure of ammunition because the supply was reported
to be limited and may not be replenished for a while. Several men had used all their
grenades in the bloody process of retaking their positions. Rations were also running
low and the men were without water as the canteens were frozen. It was too much
of a risk to attempt to bring ammunition and rations to the men during the daylight
hours as the enemy snipers had zeroed in on every Second and Third Platoon
position.
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Lt. Arnest sent Pfc John Welte back to the Battalion CP to draw rations and
ammunition and deliver them to the First Platoon at the edge of the woods. Welte
was a jeep driver who took great pride in keeping his jeep in tip top condition. In the
States he took care of it like a baby. When he got back, Welte went as far forward
as he dared and quickly unloaded the jeep and trailer. As he was going around to the
drivers side to take off, he heard a burp gun and saw tracers go over their heads, one
missing Lt. Doenges by inches. He shouted "Hit the dirt!" as several bullets went
through the empty trailer, killing Pfc Calvin Corbel. Doenges told Welte to get the
jeep and trailer the hell out of there because he was drawing fire. He peeked over the
hood as a German bullet stopped in the thermostat cover on top of the radiator.
When he found that he could not get in the jeep, he reached in from the ground, put
it in neutral and started the engine. He then put it in gear and crawled along the side
until he could safely get in and drive.
A little earlier in the day while the men were alternately digging in and
returning fire, a jeep carrying four communications men sped down the Zittersheim
Road toward Wingen. The occupants were apparently unaware that the Germans
were occupying the town. Some Second Platoon men shouted at them to stop, but
they continued into the village, apparently not hearing the shouts of the riflemen. At
the edge of the village, the jeep appeared to slow a little but it was too late. It
disappeared between the houses. Two of the men managed to escape, but the fate of
the others was unknown. Later another jeep load of men came hell bent for election
down the Zittersheim Road. In that instance, the jeep driver stopped when he heard
the riflemen shouting. A corporal asked "How far to the front lines?" Sgt. Jaros
shouted "You're here, can't you rear echelon guys recognize gunfire?" About that
time German machine gun tracers were beginning to zero in on the jeep, which went
into reverse and backed up the road faster it came down. Jaros added "Next time you
better knock before you enter."
Later that night, under cover of darkness, some First Platoon men helped carry
rations, grenades and rifle ammunition to the Second and Third Platoon forward
positions. On the return trips, they helped the casualties make their way back to the
rear area. The medics, Pfc Moore and Pfc Roberts brought up stretchers to carry out
the more seriously wounded who were unable to walk.
After dark, the men worked in shifts. Half kept their eyes peeled for
infiltrators, while the others labored to finish the holes. About an hour after dark,
while some were still shoveling dirt, an enemy patrol attempted to breach a gap
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between the Second and Third Platoons. Pfc Gene Davis noticed the movement of
enemy soldiers in the snow. In the darkness Davis could not tell how far away they
were but he took a chance and threw a hand grenade in their direction. The grenade
hit the mark and then exploded. He immediately pulled the pin from another and let
it fly in the same place. The detonations got everyone's attention and instantly most
of Davis' buddies were spraying the area with rifle fire. The Germans returned a few
bursts of burp-gun fire; then there was silence. At least two enemy soldiers were
down and the others hightailed it back to cover. One German rifleman got lucky and
Gene Davis took a round in the shoulder. His foxhole buddy patched him up with
a first-aid packet and some sulfa powder. He was evacuated during the night and did
not return to the Company until after the war.
It was nearly midnight when all were dug in well enough to put aside their
entrenching tools and give their full attention to the enemy. Sporadic fire from the
houses and the cemetery continued throughout the night while the Germans did
everything they could to unnerve the GIs. They fired machine guns in the dark when
there were obviously no clear targets in view. They fired signal pistols that made an
eerie whistling sound. They shouted at the GIs, sometimes in English and sometimes
in German. Often during the night, the men heard the Germans shouting "HEIL
HITLER," "ON YOUR FEET, AMERICAN BASTARDS," and similar epithets. Pfc
Gene Bambrick and Pfc George Sheeley shared a foxhole on the left flank of the
Second Platoon overlooking a draw. Sheeley was worried that the Germans would
sneak up the draw in the dark, so he spent a good part of the night firing down the
draw and at Germans crossing the railroad tracks. The next morning, Sheeley found
that there were a few dead Germans near the railroad. Many years later, he was still
wondering if he was responsible for their demise.
After the snow flurries, the weather grew colder and many men suffered from
frostbitten hands, feet, and ears. Canteens were frozen and the men were forced to
eat snow to quench their thirst. The mechanism on the GI's semiautomatic rifles
frequently froze up, which made it necessary to operate the bolt by hand. Most often
one's hands were too cold and numb to perform that normally easy operation so the
mechanism then had to be freed up by placing the rifle butt on the ground and forcing
the receiver back with one's foot. With that clumsy operation, the round in the
chamber would eject and a new live round would be inserted. Hopefully, the
semiautomatic rifle would function properly after the round in the chamber was fired.
At Wingen the riflemen learned very quickly that when they were not engaged in a
firefight to keep their rifles warm and dry by keeping them as close to their bodies as
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possible. When they slept, they slept with their rifles inside their overcoats. A
jammed rifle in combat was worthless and was a sure ticket to another world.
Though the men took turns trying to get a little shut-eye, most of them were
so tense and preoccupied with reflecting back on the day's events that sleep was
impossible. Even when one did manage to doze off, he was periodically jolted from
his sleep by the sounds of gunfire and grenades. It had been a long miserable day of
bloody fighting. Nearly twenty-four hours had passed since the sudden predawn
attack and everyone was still in a state of shock. The men asked many questions;
some were audible to anyone who was listening and others never left the soldiers'
lips. The answers were few and slow in coming. Most never came. "How many
German soldiers are we up against?" "If we are in reserve like they told us, why in
the hell didn't someone warn us that the Jerrys were coming?" "Where are the other
American troops?" "Where is the rest of our battalion?" "Are we going to get
help?" "Are we in this damn war all alone?" "Are the wounded men being
evacuated?" "What are we expected to do next?" "Why don't we have any artillery
to knock the hell out of those Krauts?" "Am I going to get out of this alive?" "Who
were the American soldiers in Wingen when the Germans took the town?" "What
happened to them?" "Why in the hell didn't they put up more of a fight?" "Are they
dead or alive?" The one thing the men knew for sure was that the village was in
German hands and was held by a much larger force than fifty enemy troops.
Everyone seemed to sense that Company A would play a big role in its liberation.
That day, January 4, 1945, was a day that no Trailblazer in Company A would ever
forget. It had been the longest day in his life. Every minute of every torturous hour
was filled with indescribable misery.
That night the First Platoon leader, Lt. William "Dogears" Doenges, led a
reconnaissance patrol around the east and north of Wingen. The patrol's mission was
to make contact with Company B and find out what was happening on the other side
of the valley. Doenges expected to find Company B in defensive positions in the
forested mountain north of the town. His patrol was out most of the night and into
the morning of January 5, but it failed to make contact with any friendly troops. He
found German troops occupying the forested area where he expected to find
Company B. Company B seemed to have vanished into Les Vosges. What Lt.
Doenges did not know and did not find out was that the German attack on Wingen
came out of the night from the north. Without warning, the enemy struck Company
B from the rear with such ferocity that the company was nearly decimated. In its
attempt to regroup and repel the enemy in the darkness, the company suffered heavy
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casualties. Those who were not killed or captured, scattered into the mountains.
Finding no trace of Company B nor evidence of its fate, the patrol returned to the
Company sector the following morning. The men of Company A were to find out
later that the predawn machine gun fire that some men heard before the Germans
attacked Wingen was directed at Company B. Company B's absence from where it
was supposed to be, created a horrible gap in the Battalion's defense.
German forces of unknown strength had captured Wingen and the high ground
north and northwest of the town. Lt. Doenges estimated that there was at least a
company of German infantry in the hills north of the village, and perhaps more than
a company. Meanwhile, Company A was desperately trying to hold its defensive
positions and keep the Germans out of its company area. The men had no idea what
was happening in the areas surrounding them. They were aware that German troops
had somehow driven a wedge between them and Company B and that Company B
was missing. Beyond that, they knew nothing of the situation. Many wondered if the
brass hats at Battalion, Regiment or Division Headquarters knew what the hell was
going on.
It was not until after the war that the men found out that they were not alone
in their thinking that something was awry in higher headquarters. Lt. Colonel
Wallace Robert Cheves, Commander of the Second Battalion, 274th Infantry, also
had some serious doubts as to the awareness of the situation in the various
headquarters. A few days later Brig. General Herren put Cheves in command of the
entire Wingen Operation. Years later Cheves wrote a book entitled "L'Operation
Nordwind et Wingen-Sur-Moder" in which he wrote:
"......Meanwhile, at the 276th Infantry CP in Zittersheim, Colonel Al Morgan
and his Executive Officer, Lt. Colonel Dan Russell were stunned by the nervewracking reports. It was a bewildering situation, totally unexpected.
"The 179th Infantry (45th Infantry Division) CP, located nearby, was also
shocked by the developments and very concerned about its 1st Battalion Headquarters and other troops cut off in the village. The strength of the enemy forces was not
known, but it was estimated that only a small group, perhaps 50, had infiltrated
through the woods.
"It was urgent that a counterattack be launched at once to eliminate the
Germans and rescue the American prisoners. There were no troops available from
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the 45th Division (to which Task Force Herren was attached). Its regiments were
already involved in defending against enemy attacks to the north of Wingen.
"The 276th Infantry forces were spread over a wide area, extending from
Volksberg, where Company K was in Corps reserve, to Wimmenau where the 2nd
Battalion was committed. The First Battalion was divided and disorganized.
Company B was reportedly wiped out and the Battalion CO was missing.
"That left only the 3rd Battalion (with Company L and part of Company I)
available for the counterattack. 1330 (5 January 1945) was the time set for the
attack.
"Lt. Colonel Sidney Iverson, CO of Third Battalion, 276th, recalls: 'At the
time my CP was with the Third Battalion, 179th Infantry, 45th Division (near
Hochberg) but no one seemed to know the situation. I was told that there were only
a few Germans.'"
Had the men of Company A been aware of what was occurring in the various
battalion and regimental command posts, they would have been convinced that the
state of "CONFUSION" was not restricted to the front line doughboys.
Word came down again from Regimental S-2 (Intelligence) reiterating their
earlier information that the enemy strength was not more than fifty hungry German
infantrymen. They were nearly out of ammunition and food and would probably be
willing to surrender. Company A was ordered to continue putting pressure on the
enemy and under no circumstances give an inch from their present positions. The
men had no way of knowing how many Germans were holding Wingen nor did they
know how much food and ammunition they had. They did have first-hand
knowledge that the enemy was expending ammunition like there was no end to the
supply, and they definitely showed no indications of being willing to surrender. One
would have expected that Captain Hendrickson must have been aware of the fact that
S-2's appraisal of the enemy strength was woefully underestimated, yet he apparently
chose to accept it at face value and acted accordingly. On the other hand,
Hendrickson may have known that there were far more enemy troops in Wingen than
was reported by S-2, but was acting under orders from Battalion Headquarters.
That night Captain Hendrickson called T/Sgt Bob Brewer and the other First
Platoon NCOs to the CP. He told them that Company A was going to get the
Germans out of Wingen in the morning. His plan of attack was for the Second and
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Third Platoons to hold their present positions and keep the enemy occupied. The
First Platoon was to go around the left flank of the Company and attack the enemy
in Wingen from the southwest via the Zittersheim Road. They would surprise the
Germans by hitting them on their right flank at daybreak. The Platoon Leader, Lt.
Doenges and one of his squads were out on a patrol, but the Captain expected them
back in plenty of time for the attack. He ordered Brewer to have the platoon ready
to move out at 0800 hours. The following morning, Brewer and two squads of the
First Platoon were ready at "H-Hour" but Lt. Doenges and his patrol had not returned.
In the absence of Doenges, Captain Hendrickson sent his executive officer, 1st Lt.
Howard L Arnest, to lead the attack. Lt. Arnest, T/Sgt. Brewer, S/Sgt. Richard
Armstrong, and two squads of the First Platoon led by S/Sgt. Leon Uczynski and
S/Sgt. Lester Westcott departed from the Company CP. The platoon approached the
village on the Zittersheim Road to the southwest and went in a northeasterly direction
passing only a few houses before meeting serious opposition. S/Sgt. Dick
Armstrong, Platoon Guide, later related the First Platoon's initial action that morning.
"Proceeding up the road, we met no opposition of fire but in passing the first
house on the left we heard noises in the cellar. We called for those inside to
surrender and come out, and receiving no reply threw two grenades in and continued
on. When the scouts were within a hundred yards from a house, a half block down
the street, we received two shots fired from an upper window, which hit no one. Lt.
Arnest took the rifle grenade launcher from Burton Drury and put a grenade in the
suspected window. Pieces of glass, furniture and plaster came flying out. We
immediately moved out again. It began to look like a picnic. I thought to myself, I
bet they pulled out last night."
As the scouts, Pfc David Pierotti and Pvt. De Witt Barefield, approached the
first intersection south of a railroad underpass, they received intense close range rifle
and burp-gun fire from three directions. The Germans had both squads in a cross fire
from cellar and second story windows. Brewer's men threw hand grenades through
the windows of the nearest buildings, then burst in with blazing rifles. They
occupied one house on each side of the street near the intersection, while the German
fire was hitting all around them. Lt. Arnest, Uczynski and six riflemen went into the
house on the right side of the street and Brewer entered the house on the left side of
the street with Westcott's squad. Six of Uczynski's men led by Sgt. Arthur Slover
remained outside and fought from the icy cobblestone streets and shallow ditches.
Upon taking the houses, the men quickly positioned themselves in the cellars and
upper floors and started to respond to the enemy fire.
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When Brewer was satisfied that the building was secure, he sent Armstrong
to check on Westcott and his squad. Westcott reported that two men, one a medic,
and the other a rifleman were hit on the street and were not able to make it to cover.
They were badly wounded outside the building and he needed help to get them in.
The first burst of enemy fire hit James Gossage near the steps of the house. He was
wounded in both legs, could not walk or crawl and was bleeding badly. Pfc William
"Doc" Moore went out to see what he could do for Gossage and as he knelt over him
"Doc" was shot at close range from the building across the road. Large red crosses
stenciled on the front and back of his helmet and his red cross brassards worn on his
arms, clearly identified Moore as a noncombatant medical aid man. Drury and Armstrong went out and dragged Gossage up the steps then enemy fire forced them back
inside the building. Moore managed to crawl close enough to the doorway that
Armstrong and Drury were able to drag him inside, but Gossage remained out of
reach and lay bleeding on the stone steps. By disconnecting the sling from the upper
sling swivel of his rifle and by holding on to the barrel, Armstrong threw the sling out
to Gossage. As Drury and Armstrong pulled Gossage inside he remarked "Sarge, I
guess you can recommend me for the purple heart now" and then he passed out.
The enemy soldiers were strategically located in basements and windows
which gave them a decided advantage over the GIs who were limited in their choice
of positions. From their vantage points, they could keep Slover and the GIs on the
streets pinned down, thus severely restricting their movements and ability to fight.
The First Platoon was split, with Westcott's squad in the building on the southwest
corner of the intersection and a few men of Uczynski's squad in a building near the
intersection on the east side of the street. Slover and half of Uczynski’s squad were
spread out in a ditch parallel to the street. The slightest movement by Slover's men
brought intensive fire from German machine guns. From the outset, casualties on
both sides mounted rapidly. Neither squad could advance past the intersection nor
get further into the town. The number of Germans confronting the GIs in the village,
added to those confronting the Second and Third Platoon positions outside the
village, thoroughly convinced Arnest and Brewer that they were up against a hell of
a lot more than a handful of enemy troops. Lt. Arnest sent a runner to the CP to
inform the CO that there were definitely many more Germans in Wingen than was
reported by regimental intelligence. He estimated that there was at least a battalion
of enemy infantry, mostly armed with automatic weapons, and that it was impossible
for two squads to go any further. It was imperative that he get reinforcements soon.
The CO must have thought that regimental S-2 was infallible, so before relaying Lt.
Arnest’s appraisal of enemy strength, he wanted to see for himself. The Captain
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Wingen-sur-Moder under attack. Hotel Wenk is burning in the center. The Catholic Church is in the upper left. (Photo by Garstki)
apparently continued to believe that there were only a few Germans inside the village,
and most of them were involved in exchanging fire with the Second and Third Platoons. Earlier, Lt. Doenges had reported that there was at least a company of German
Infantry in the hills north of Wingen. Those added to Arnest's estimate of a battalion
of infantry in Wingen amounted to a far greater force than one rifle company could
handle. Nevertheless, he expected Arnest and his men to move in, hit the Germans
in their right flank, and recapture Wingen while the enemy was busy with the frontal
attack against the main body of Company A. That might have been a successful
tactic had there been no more than fifty enemy troops in the village, but in reality
their numbers far exceeded that estimate.
Probably due to pressure from above, the CO grew impatient with the First
Platoon's slow progress and went out to the Second Platoon forward positions near
the south edge of the town to attempt to observe the action. The Second Platoon was
dug in nearest to the village and it was taking fire from the houses and bridgehead
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south of the Moder River. Those positions did not afford a good vantage point for
observation because from there one could see nothing of the fighting on the streets.
The GIs were either pinned down or were hidden from view by buildings and other
structures. The Captain then ordered S/Sgt Virgil Cook's squad to go with him into
the village, adding "I came over here to fight a war, and I'm going to fight it!"
About that time he stood up and unloaded his carbine toward the village without any
apparent target in his sights. All he accomplished was to draw more enemy fire and
a shout from a rifleman; "Get your ass down before you get it shot off." Cook’s
squad had taken five casualties, including the squad leader and his assistant, leaving
only six riflemen to go in with the CO. He also had his runner (messenger), Pfc
Eddie Tsukimura.
Tsukimura was a young man of Japanese descent who was born in a small
fishing village on the island of Oahu, Territory of Hawaii. When he was seven years
old, his family moved to California. He was drafted into the Army in 1941, before
the US entered the war. While his family and other West Coast Americans of
Japanese descent were placed in relocation camps following the Japanese attack on
Pearl Harbor, Tsukimura opted to remain in the Army and fight for his country.
The Captain, Tsukimura and the squad from the Second Platoon made their
way west in a ditch to the road that ran between Zittersheim and Wingen. When they
reached the road, they went to the right about 200 yards to the west edge of town. As
they approached the first houses, the squad separated into two teams and entered the
village on both sides of the street. The scouts led the way with Lowry on the right
side and Bambrick on the left. They took advantage of what little cover they could
find, which was mainly shallow ditches and small depressions. The Captain and
Tsukimura followed the three men on the left side of the street. As they approached
the intersection where the First Platoon was exchanging fire with the hostile forces,
they received automatic weapon fire from buildings on both sides of the street. The
Second Platoon riflemen on the right side of the street joined Sgt. Slover's squad that
was then engaged in a fierce firefight. They moved slowly and cautiously down a
ditch on the side of the street, and returned the fire that came from enemy positioned
in nearby buildings. They soon became aware that they were outnumbered,
outgunned, and pinned down more often than not. Making any appreciable progress
into the town was virtually impossible with so few men and so little firepower. After
a period of bitter fighting at close range, the advance came to a grinding halt as nearly
everyone was pinned down.
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Captain Hendrickson was upset with the lack of progress and demanded to
know what was holding things up ahead. The response from the First Platoon was
"Germans and machine guns," which response was not what the CO wanted to hear.
He ordered Sgt. Slover to get his squad out of the ditches, take the initiative, and
make a frontal attack down the street, but the riflemen were unable to move from
their pinned down positions without facing close range devastating fire. Sgt. Slover
attempted to reason with the Captain and explain in his mild-mannered mid-western
way that the men were up against impossible odds. To make a frontal attack down
the street where the air was filled with lead would result in certain death for the GIs
without any chance for success. His pleas were ignored. Without saying another
word, Captain Hendrickson ran about twenty paces into the street toward the corner
where the First Platoon was held up and signaled for the men to follow. When Lt.
Arnest spotted Hendrickson on the street below, he instructed his men to lay down
all the firepower they had so as to keep the Germans occupied until the Captain
reached cover. Hendrickson continued on as though none of the slugs that filled the
air were meant for him. The GIs in the buildings and on the street were firing at
every visible German position in an attempt to make it possible for him to take cover.
Almost as soon as he was on the street, machine gun fire hit him in the chest. His
dash came to a sudden halt as he went down on the cobblestone street. Tsukimura,
without giving any thought to his own safety, rushed out to help the wounded officer.
Under a shower of burp-gun fire, he calmly opened his first aid packet, poured some
sulfa powder on his chest wounds and bandaged them up as best he possibly could.
While he was taking care of the Captain's wounds, Tsukimura narrowly missed being
cut down. Lloyd Patterson later recalled, “His action was one of pure bravery and
care for a fellow human being.” Not a man who witnessed that heroic act will ever
forget little Eddie, who undoubtedly saved Captain Hendrickson's life and could well
have lost his own. Fifty years later, Tsukimura recalled "I did what I could for him
and I told him that I was going to go get the tanks and get him out of where we were
pinned down. When I was running back into the woods where I saw our tanks, I was
thinking of only a few years ago I was in high school in Japan and for two years I
was in the long distance marathon team. I used to run through the city but mostly
through the countryside in Japan. I rode back to Wingen on the tank."
The tank was a welcome sight to the riflemen, who until then did not know
that there were tanks in the area. They were assigned to the Company by the 781st
Tank Battalion, 14th Armored Division, and took up positions that morning in the
woods directly behind the Company CP. Before he entered Wingen, the tank
commander made it clear that he would not go ahead unless accompanied by foot
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soldiers, and threatened to withdraw if the infantrymen did not give his tank adequate
protection. He was concerned about the possibility of being hit with antitank fire and
panzerfaust missiles. While the tank moved ahead, Eddie stayed with the Captain.
Burton Drury was still in the same house where earlier he and Armstrong
dragged Moore and Gossage through the front entrance. He was in an upstairs
window firing rifle grenades at the enemy across the street. "From the house we fired
antitank grenades into several houses where we could hear and see the German
soldiers. We ran them from the upstairs to the downstairs, and then to the basement.
During this time Captain Hendrickson was hit directly under our firing. I then moved
from upstairs to the only neutral house between us and the enemy, where I yelled to
the Captain and he said he was OK. From there I moved along the front edge of the
house with my grenade launcher ready to put a grenade into the basement window
where we knew there were German soldiers. Just as I put my rifle around the corner
of the building, I saw the German under the porch. I saw the muzzle blast from his
rifle and I fell like a ton of bricks. The last time I saw my rifle (with grenade intact)
it was 10 feet in the air. I started crawling back to the barn portion of the house from
where I had just been a few minutes before, and the German fired two more shots at
me. One hit the house above me, and the other, I thought, hit my left ear. I even felt
my ear to see if it was bleeding. Sergeant Armstrong reached out of the little barn
and pulled me inside. It was only then I realized I was hit pretty hard in the left hip."
When Captain Hendrickson and Eddie Tsukimura were pinned down on the
street, Sgt. Earl "Stupe" Granger, who was near the intersection, made an end run
down the right side of the street then cut across to the left. He made a desperate effort
to reach the Captain and Eddie to get them out of the direct fire. As he started across
the street, he shouted over his shoulder to BAR Man, Lloyd Patterson, and
ammunition bearer, Laylen McGriff, to cover him. They did their best until a mortar
burst knocked a shell-weakened wall on their BAR, and temporarily put both men out
of action. Neither was seriously injured, just shaken up and bruised a little. Granger
crossed the street through a hail of machine gun bullets and leaped into a ditch where
the Germans pinned him down but good. Meanwhile, Lowry and Dubose were
making their way up the ditch on the opposite side of the street. Dubose was keeping
an eye on the basement windows and Lowry the upper level windows. An enemy
rifleman got off two shots at Sgt. Granger from a second story window, one shattered
the stock of his rifle next to his cheek and the second bullet got him in the leg. He
lay half frozen and partially exposed and pinned down tight in the ditch playing dead,
praying that the German would not finish him off. From the ditch on the opposite
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side of the street, Lowry fired a full clip (eight rounds) into the second story window.
No more enemy fire came from the window. That was the third time that Granger
was wounded. He came to the 70th Division after having served in combat in the
Pacific. On December 7, 1941, he was wounded during the Japanese attack at Pearl
Harbor. His second wound occurred while he was fighting at Guadalcanal and he
earned his third Purple Heart at Wingen.
No sooner was the sniper out of action, when machine gun fire started coming
from a cellar window in the next building. It fired point blank at Lowry and Dubose.
The Germans had them both pinned to the bottom of the shallow ditch where they
were fending off dirt, snow, ice and cobblestone fragments. Pfc George Sheeley, a
rifleman in their squad, was about twenty yards from the two pinned GIs when he
saw their predicament. Without hesitating, he dashed across the street between
machine gun bursts, pulling the pin from a hand grenade as he ran. When he was
within a few feet of the machine gun position, he lobbed the grenade through the
narrow opening. Sheeley silenced the machine gun.
After Armstrong managed to drag Drury to cover, he picked up Drury's rifle
with the grenade launcher and fired at the narrow basement opening. The grenade
struck an iron fence and went off six feet short of the target. Armstrong recalled
having seen a dead GI with a grenade bag and went back to look for it. He retrieved
it, but in doing so he had to dodge a few enemy bullets. He pulled the pin from a
grenade, tossed it into the basement where the machine gun position was set up, but
the damned thing was a dud and did not detonate. From the nearby ditch, "Stupe"
Granger hollered "You damn recruit, pull the pin from the next one!" Until that time
Armstrong presumed that Granger was dead because he had been laying in the ditch
for several minutes without moving a muscle. On the second try, the grenade
exploded and drove out thirteen Germans. They were out of ammunition, some were
wounded, their uniforms were torn and most were dazed by the grenade blast. The
Germans were not out of the building a minute when the tank, guided by Bambrick
and Sheeley, fired its 75mm gun into the embrasure and blew away the front the
structure. What was left of the house was smoldering ruins. The tank commander
opened his hatch and shouted to Sheeley to get him a Luger from one of the
prisoners, but Sheeley was too busy dodging bullets to be picking up any German
pistols; also, he did not want to chance being captured with a Luger in his possession.
Later in the day, shielded by the tank, Captain Hendrickson and Burton Drury
were taken out of the village on a jeep. Walking along the side of the jeep, Pfc
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Tsukimura held bandages on the Captain's chest wound. Those men never returned
to the outfit. For them the war was over, but not the suffering. Burton Drury spent
the next twenty-seven months in Army hospitals, where he underwent thirteen major
surgeries on his wounded hip and leg. He and many other men of Company A who
were wounded that day would pay the rest of their lives for their bravery.
With the loss of the CO, 1st Lt. Howard L Arnest took command of the
Company. He was a capable leader and a rugged outdoorsman with considerable
infantry experience. Before entering the Army, he was a foreman in lumber mills in
Oregon and other parts of the Pacific Northwest and was accustomed to working with
men under difficult conditions. Before the day was over, he won the respect of the
GIs in Wingen by proving his leadership abilities. He was cool and collected, kept
a level head, and knew what fear was. He did not expect his men to do anything that
he was not willing to do himself. From the very start as “Acting CO," he was at a
disadvantage. His company was spread out and split. Three squads were engaged
in fierce offensive action inside the village while the rest of the company was fighting
from the defensive positions outside the village. He did not have adequate
communication with his platoon leaders and the CP as both were out of range of the
walkie-talkies and the wires were broken. From inside the village, he had no
command control over three of the four platoons. Further, he had no information as
to casualties except those who fell on the streets of Wingen. The first decision he had
to make was whether to return to the CP and take command of the Company or
remain with the men in Wingen. If he went back to the CP, the men in Wingen
would be without an officer, so he opted to stay where he was. He sent a runner back
with orders to Lt. Doenges to take over the Company and get word to Battalion of
their desperate situation in Wingen. With the few men from the Second Platoon, the
medium tank and the two squads of the First Platoon, Lt. Arnest continued the attack.
The men on the street provided cover for the tank, which continued to blast the
enemy positions. Every time they silenced a machine gun, another took its place in
a different window. Westcott's squad fought its way across the street at the
intersection and assaulted one of two buildings that provided shelter for an enemy
machine gun position that covered the crossroads. Westcott was successful in silencing one machine gun, but almost immediately another was in action. That mobility
with light machine guns and burp-guns enabled the enemy to keep the GIs on the
streets pinned down most of the time.
Gene Bambrick voluntarily took over directing the tank fire, and did an
outstanding job by repeatedly leaving his cover to run out to the tank and point his
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rifle to the windows from which enemy fire was coming. He probably dodged more
bullets that day than anyone else in the Company but never got a scratch. His only
disability was the temporary loss of his voice and hearing after an afternoon of
shouting to the tank commander "Hey Tank, over there!" In one instance he pointed
to a window from where a machine gun was firing. The tanker turned the turret so
that the muzzle was directly over Lowry’s head and fired his 75mm gun through the
window. For the rest of the day, Lowry thought that he would never hear again.
The bloody street fighting in the bitter cold from ditch to gutter and from
doorway to doorway was a tremendous challenge to the men's endurance. Early in
the fighting it became obvious to everyone, except perhaps the intelligence wizards
at Battalion and Regiment, that the GIs were up against a huge determined force. Not
only that, the Germans were seasoned experts who knew what to do and how and
when to do it. On the other hand the Trailblazers, though well trained, were
uninitiated troops experiencing their first taste of battle. Seasoned troops under fire
generally know how each of their comrades will act in difficult situations. The
uninitiated facing death never knows how he, his buddies, or his leaders will react
when under fire and smelling gunsmoke for the first time. Perhaps due to their
extensive training over a long period, most of the men of Company A performed well
during their first days of facing the enemy at close range. The doughboys at Wingen
would have been the first to acknowledge that the Germans were excellent soldiers
and they obviously had far more experience than the Trailblazers. One man
frequently remarked "If we live through this damned war and ever fight another, let's
hope that the Germans are on our side." By the time the baptism of fire was over,
those who lived to tell of it were also battle-wise veterans who learned a lot about
themselves and their comrades-in-arms.
Earlier, Brig. General Herren ordered the 276th Infantry to attack Wingen,
liberate the town, and free the American prisoners held in the village. In reality, the
Regiment was in a poor position to make an immediate attack because its battalions
were spread over a wide area from Volksberg to Wimmenau. The First Battalion was
split and Company A was locked in bitter combat on the streets and in the immediate
vicinity of Wingen. The Second Battalion was already committed to battle east of
Wingen near the village of Wimmenau. That left the Third Battalion, which had but
one company and part of another available for the counterattack. Shortly after 1330
the afternoon of January 5, while the platoon of Company A was on the streets, the
hastily planned attack got underway. Lt. Colonel Sidney Iverson, CO Third
Battalion, 276th Infantry recalls:
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"I was told that there were only a few Germans, and we were prohibited from
using heavy weapons and artillery on the town itself.
"The only direct route into the town was to break through an underpass which
was covered by heavy enemy fire from the east and south; so it was decided to move
through the west part of the town and attack the hill north of the railroad tracks. At
the same time, infantry troops would accompany tanks on the road below in an
attempt to enter the town through the RR underpass.
"Company L was committed toward the hill without a preceding artillery
preparation, and made good progress at first, cleared the houses to the woods, and
then started up the hill. Everything seemed OK, but the Germans were waiting in the
trees, and all Hell broke loose! The Company CO and a Lieutenant were killed
along with several others. The Germans really had Company L pinned down, but we
managed to hold on through the night."
While Company L was engaged in the attack toward the hill, Company I was
committed to enter Wingen. The few remaining men of Company B, led by 1st/Sgt.
Woodrow Barnett, joined Company I in the attack. With the support of a tank platoon
from Company B, 781st Tank Battalion, the two under-strength rifle companies
attempted to attack the village from the northwest through the railroad underpass.
The hastily ill-planned attack resulted in total disaster. The well-entrenched German
troops were on the steep hill north of Wingen. Their positions commanded a clear
view of the north entrance to the underpass. The Germans in Wingen placed machine
guns and snipers in houses that gave them unobstructed fields of fire to the south
entrance of the underpass. One tank made it through the underpass but was destroyed
by a German panzerfaust team that waited under cover until the lead tank came into
close range. The tank company and Companies B and I were ambushed and took
intensive machine gun, mortar and panzerfaust fire on both sides of the underpass.
The Germans destroyed both tanks and inflicted heavy casualties before the attacking
companies could withdraw. John Hartman, a Company B rifleman later commented
"The Krauts saw us coming a mile away and waited until we were all in range, then
blasted the hell out of us from both sides. No one told us that there were Krauts
holding the hills. We didn't have a chance." Lt. Arnest and his men who were
locked in combat on the streets of Wingen did not know and were not informed that
any other units would attack the village that afternoon. At that time they were so
preoccupied with the house-to-house fighting that very few, if any, of the Company
A GIs even noticed that the ill-fated attack had taken place.
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As the street fighting raged on, the supply of rifle ammunition and grenades
began to dwindle. The last of the rifle grenades were used earlier when Armstrong
fired Drury's grenade launcher. The men had only a few hand grenades left, and
some had none. Since rifle ammunition was running desperately low, they started
using it with great care. That was definitely not the way to carry out a successful
attack. Weapons and ammunition were scrounged from the dead and those who were
too seriously wounded to use them. Armstrong sent a messenger back to the CP to
secure more ammunition and when he did not return, Armstrong started back to look
for him. On the Zittersheim road he met 1st/Sgt. Palacio who informed him that
machine gun fire from the cemetery killed the messenger and that he would get
ammunition to the men pronto. A short time later a jeep and trailer driven by Pfc
Connon Clements came into the village with a supply of ammunition. Clements was
driving by kneeling on the floor and peeking around the side. He came down the
Zittersheim road under fire and crashed into the building that Westcott's squad was
holding. Other than being shaken up from a blow on the head and a few bruises, he
hardly had a scratch. The jeep was another story. It was shot full of holes and was
a total wreck. As Clements crawled away from the wreckage, a wise guy in
Westcott's squad shouted "Sergeant Wilson will sure as hell make you sign a
'Statement of Charges' for that jeep." (S/Sgt. Vernon Wilson was the supply
sergeant.)
The prisoners taken earlier proved to be a problem. At that time it would have
been almost impossible to take them back to the CP, and Lt. Arnest did not want to
spare the men to guard them. Nevertheless, two men were assigned the dubious
honor of keeping them corralled with orders from Brewer to shoot to kill if any of
them tried to escape. They surrendered only after having faced certain death and
were out of ammunition. Most of them were wounded, but all were confident and
arrogant and some replied with "Heil Hitler!" when interrogated. One snarled and
appeared to swear at Lowry when he tried to put a first aid pack on a shoulder
wound. Not one would acknowledge speaking English, but the men suspected that
some understood everything that was said. Those prisoners were no ordinary
Wehrmacht (Regular German soldiers). They were extremely well disciplined, well
trained and thoroughly experienced soldiers.
********************
It was not until the battle for Wingen was over that the GIs learned that the
German troops who launched the ferocious attack from the north, decimated
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Company B, and recaptured Wingen were not Wehrmacht soldiers. They were two
battalions of the elite 12th Mountain Regiment of the 6th SS Mountain Division
(Nord). They were not fifty hungry soldiers, nearly out of ammunition and ready to
surrender but more than 900 confident, seasoned SS Mountain Infantrymen ready to
fight and die. The SS troops were the elite of the German Army and the 12th
Mountain Regiment was one of the best. Those were highly-trained and battle-wise
soldiers who had been in combat since 1941. They fought their first battles in the
Northern Lapland Campaign where they aided the Finns in their desperate stand
against the invading Red Army. Until their arrival on the Western Front, all of their
combat experience was on the Eastern Front against the Soviet troops and they had
never faced defeat. Much of their fighting was under extreme adverse climatical
conditions north of the Arctic Circle. They were trained, equipped, and extensively
experienced in winter mountain fighting, which made them right at home in Les
Vosges mountains. At Wingen, the Trailblazers soon learned that they were up
against a tough hardened foe. Their adversary included "dyed in the wool Nazis"
who appeared to know no fear and were ready to die for the Fuehrer, and fearless
young German patriots who stood ready to die trying to carry out the mission of the
German High Command. They were the toughest, smartest, most experienced
soldiers the Third Reich had to throw against the men on the Western Front. They
came all the way from the Eastern Front for the specific purpose of playing a leading
role in "Operation Nordwind."
The enemy invaded Wingen without armor or artillery, but they were armed
to the teeth with rifles, automatic weapons, panzerfausts, and grenades. Their only
other weapons were a few light mortars, assorted arms, and two tank destroyers
which they captured at Wingen. They infiltrated through the rugged snow covered
Vosges without vehicles, fought and took prisoners, and made their way to Wingen
where they captured some four hundred more prisoners, GI equipment, clothing and
rations. Late in the afternoon of January 1, the 12th Regiment, 6th SS Mountain
Division arrived at the German First Army zone after a long journey from the Eastern
Front. Immediately upon arriving, Colonel Franz Schreiber, Commander of the 12th
Regiment, reported to the 361st Volks Grenadier Command Post for attachment to
that Division. Only two of Schreiber's battalions had arrived; however, the rest of the
Regiment was expected on the following day. Three hours after their arrival on the
Western Front, the two battalions of the 12th Mountain Regiment were ordered to
launch an immediate attack on Wingen and aim for the mountain exit at Ingwiller
(Map 4, pg. 64). Their orders were to depart at once and not wait until the Regiment
was completely assembled. The two battalions of SS Mountain Troops were the
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spearhead of a major attack. It was extremely urgent that they capture Wingen and
Ingwiller and establish a breakthrough route, through which reserve panzer forces
could exit into the Alsace Plains.1
It appeared that destiny was to bring two Divisions together in armed
conflict on the battlefields of Alsace, France. In mid-November, 1944, the 70th
Infantry Division was at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, making final preparations
to go to France. Simultaneously, half way around the world on the Russian
Front, the 6th SS Mountain Division (Nord) was also preparing for a long journey
to France.
6th SS Mt. Div.
70th Inf. Div
Each Division included a good cross-section of the young men of their
respective countries: artisans, clerks, laborers, businessmen, students, professionals.
volunteered, most were drafted, but almost all served willingly.
Some
The Trailblazers, in Missouri, had never heard a shot fired in anger; the Mountain Troops in Finland
were battle-tempered veterans of Germany's two-front war. But their destinies were identical: They would
engage in a battle that may decide the outcome of the war. They would die side by side on the snows of Les
Vosges and on the ridges of the Saarland.
While the Trailblazers journeyed from Fort Leonard Wood to Camp Myles Standish to France to
Alsace, the 6th Mountain troops left Finland, crossed over to Norway into Denmark, back to Germany and then
to Alsace. There the two infantry divisions were to meet in deadly combat. Elements of both divisions were
rushed into battle without waiting for their supporting units to arrive. It was infantrymen against infantrymen.
Wolf T. Zoepf, Former Adjutant, 3rd Battalion, 12th SS Mountain Regiment
(German) made this account of his Regiment’s movements starting on the afternoon
of January 2, 1945:
"2 Jan- Late in the afternoon, our march with pack animals continues.
Bypassing MELCH, we move westward on mountain paths to the forest road
connecting WILDENGUTH and KOHLHUTTE (Map 6, pg. 99). With the 3rd Bn.
leading, we advance over the forest road toward KOHLHUTTE. Our vanguard
contacts the enemy at approximately 2300.
1
Cheves, Colonel Wallace Robert; L'Operation Nordwind et Wingen-Sur-Moder; pgs 18-21
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Map 6. Route of the German 1st and 3rd Battalions,12th Mountain Regiment, 6th SS Mountain Division (Nord) to Wingen-sur-Moder,
January 2-4, 1945.
"The enemy (1st Bn, 179th Inf, 45th Div) is in position on both sides of the
forest road, commanding the heights with good control over the road. Our 3rd Bn
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advances and attacks in front, and from the hills to the south. The attack succeeds,
positions taken, and our first prisoners captured.
"We are without our supporting heavy weapons, artillery and mortars, which
are still in transport, and we have no steel helmets (only ski caps). However, we
employ signal pistols loaded with "whistling rounds" which have good "morale"
effect on the enemy.
"3 Jan- Before daybreak, the attack continues and our count of prisoners is
mounting. The enemy fights with delaying action, and retreats southward under the
protection of his artillery.
"0900- Another attack by our 3rd Bn in a southerly direction is stopped by
heavy enemy artillery. Both battalions dig in, facing south; 3rd Bn on the right, 1st
Bn on the left.
"Whereas we had almost no casualties during our nightly advance, we start
suffering now under constant enemy artillery and mortar fire.
" 1300- We receive orders from Corps:
'1st and 3rd battalions attack south via HUHNERSCHERR on both sides
of the road. Capture HEIDENECK (1st Bn) and WINGEN (3rd Bn).
'After the two towns have been taken, including bridge heads south of the
Moder, the battalions will be reinforced with a self-propelled Assault Gun Battalion
for further advance to the south.'
"Both Battalion Commanders confer on the action to be taken after receiving
these orders. A frontal attack against the well entrenched enemy would result in
heavy losses. It was my suggestion that we bypass the entrenched enemy by
detouring through the wooded mountains east of KOHLHUTTE. This proposal was
accepted by CORPS Headquarters. (Map 6, pg. 99)
"Our pack train arrives with ammunition and rations (half a loaf of bread and
some spreading for each man) and takes back the wounded and the prisoners. Our
men are told: 'to get their next rations from the enemy; no further supply!'
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"1800, 3 Jan - Units from both battalions detach themselves carefully from the
enemy and assemble in the forest north of Road D.12 (5 km northerly from
Wimmenau). The 1st Bn takes the lead, followed by the 3rd. We march in a long,
single file with the least possible noise. Enemy maps, captured last night, assist us.
First we march east to the enemy positions we took last night; then we head south
over the wooded heights on the eastern side of the D.12 Road; then southwest to the
D.12 Road which we reach at a distance of app. 1.5 km south of KOHLHUTTE.
" We are exhausted from the lack of sleep. Every little stop on our march is
immediately used for sleep, leaning on a tree, crouching, or sitting.
"We start crossing the D.12 Road in single file, then down through the woods
into the valley, and wade across the cold Fischbach creek. Our crossing of the road
is suddenly stopped as we hear the noise of an engine motor from the southeast.
Everyone crouches down in the wood. A jeep with three passengers stops at the track
marks we left on the paved road, which was otherwise covered with some inches of
fresh snow. They probably suspected mines on the road. But after a short
inspection, they resume travel northerly in high gear.
"About 0400, 4 Jan, we enter the forest on the west side of the creek, and
continue the approach toward our objectives, HEIDENECK and WINGEN.
"0430, 4 Jan- The vanguard of the 1st Bn encounters an enemy outpost (Co
B, 276th Inf) while moving through the woods, and is successful in overwhelming
them in short time.
"0600- Both battalions reach their assembly areas for the attack: 1st Bn to
the right opposite HEIDENECK; 3RD Bn opposite WINGEN in the woods north of
WINGEN RR-Station. There is not much time for reconnaissance because enemy
mortars are closing in on our assembly positions, probably alarmed by the firefight
with the outpost.
"0700- Both battalions advance and attack simultaneously. The 3RD Bn
advances in a width of some 300 meters from the edge of the woods, down the steep
slope to the railroad, crossing the multi-tracks, with concentration on the RR-Station
and the main (Catholic) church.
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"0900- After two hours of heavy house to house fighting, we hold WINGEN.
We have reached the downs and snowy meadows of MODER Creek. Our attack to
the south comes to a halt, as the enemy employs several self-propelled cannons on
the KIRCHBERG, facing Wingen.
"0930- Two companies of the 3RD Bn cross the MODER, dig themselves in,
and prepare defense positions in the buildings on the southern rim of Wingen.
"Surprised by our attacks were a headquarters and a supply company of the
U.S. 45th Infantry Division, with all installations and repair facilities, total strength
appr. 10 officers and 400 Enlisted Men. We quarter them separately; the officers in
the parson's house east of the church (Catholic); the enlisted men in the basement of
the church."
"Besides other supplies and weapons we capture two self-propelled guns and
one recovery vehicle. Our men 'feast' on captured U.S. rations, resupply their losses
in clothing (underwear and socks), and some take American rifles to supplement their
weapons."1
Since Wingen was terra incognita for the advancing enemy troops, they
planned to launch their final assault with first daylight so that they could see what
they were attacking. They had made no reconnaissance of the area. Before 0400,
while on their way to Wingen, the point of the SS column unexpectedly encountered
Company B, 276th Infantry in the woods north of Wingen. The Germans desperately
wanted to make their way to Wingen without a confrontation with American Troops.
A firefight could well have destroyed their element of surprise and alert the troops
occupying the village. They suddenly found themselves too far into Company B's
positions to attempt a bypass. The fight was on.
On the previous day, when Company B first arrived at its sector and was
deployed in the forest north of Wingen, the men were ordered not to dig in. Their
Company Commander was concerned that any noise caused by the digging might
have been heard by German patrols. Consequently, the Company was not well
prepared to defend itself against the unexpected enemy attack. Many men were
asleep when the SS Mountain Troops came on the scene and cut through and around
1
Cheves, Wallace Robert; L'Operation Nordwind et Wingen-Sur-Moder; pg. 21
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WINGEN-SUR-MODER
the stunned GIs. In the firefight that followed,
Company B was literally cut to pieces. As the
firefight with Company B progressed, the Germans
became increasingly concerned that the sounds of
gunfire had alerted the troops in Wingen. That
would have destroyed the element of surprise upon
which they were so dependent. How astonished
they must have been to find Wingen and its garrison asleep when they attacked at daybreak some
three hours later.
Some 45th Infantry Division Units were
billeted in Wingen when the Germans attacked the
morning of January 4. Comfortably bedded down
in The Hotel Wenk, Hotel de la Gare, and some
French houses were personnel of the 1st Battalion,
St. Felix Catholic Church - 1993
179th Infantry CP, a Battalion Aid Station, a
Headquarters Company, a Service Company and other assorted service units. There
were approximately four hundred 45th Infantry Division troops in all. They possibly
felt secure since they were supposedly a few miles behind the front lines and perhaps
knew that American units were positioned near the town. When the Germans broke
in and found civilian residents, they demanded that the occupants tell them if there
were any American Soldiers remaining inside. They threatened that if residents lied,
their houses and everyone inside would be destroyed.2 By using that threat they
forced many GIs to surrender without a fight. The residents of Wingen were terrified
and the German threats were effective in getting the GIs out of the houses. In short,
the SS Mountain Troops literally caught the American troops billeted in Wingen with
their pants down. Less than two hours later, the Germans captured, wounded, or
killed all the Americans occupying the village and held the prisoners in the basement
of the Catholic Church. They gave the GIs no food and very little water. Except for
a few buckets, there were no latrine or other sanitary facilities. They made the GIs
surrender their weapons, rations, watches, equipment, and in some cases their boots
and extra socks. While the Germans herded the prisoners into the church, one
stopped to tie a shoelace. A German soldier shot and killed him on the spot.
2
Operation Nordwind, by Francis Rittgen, 1984, pg. 170
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********************
While the close combat continued on the streets of Wingen, Company A's
Second and Third Platoons continued the firefight with the enemy troops who were
entrenched on the south bank of the Moder River. The enemy directed continuous
sniper fire at the GIs from the taller houses and the spire of the Protestant Church.
Perhaps every man in the Second and Third Platoon left his mark in the form of bullet
scars on the church tower. The enemy relentlessly probed at Company A's exposed
positions, and with each attack came more casualties. The Second Platoon, with one
squad on the counterattack in the village and two squads on the defensive, took the
most severe pulverizing of any platoon in the Company. Several men were picked
off by sniper fire, most of which came from the Church tower. The below freezing
weather also took a heavy toll. S/Sgt. Arnold "Red" Shelander's squad was pinned
down in icy foxholes without food or water the entire day. Seven members of his
squad were killed or wounded in a matter of just a few hours. One man froze to
death, and some wounded men had frozen ears, hands, and feet. Shelander, John
Haller and BAR Man, Pfc Bryan Ledoux were the only ones in the squad that were
not wounded. Ledoux and Pfc Robert Shooter shared the same foxhole. One minute
they were talking and the next minute Shooter was dead from an enemy sniper's
bullet that pierced his helmet and entered his forehead. It was a devastating experience for Ledoux to witness the sudden death of his foxhole buddy. But the news
of his death must have been far more devastating to Bob Shooter's wife of only five
weeks. Since the Weapons Platoon was about 150 yards to the rear of the rifle
platoons it did not take as much intense fire as the riflemen, however it was plagued
with occasional sniper fire. That afternoon T/Sgt. Edgar Etheredge was shot in the
foot, presumably by a sniper while he was in the woods behind the mortar positions.
No one was near enough to Etheredge to witness his being shot, nor was anyone able
to tell from where the shot came. Etheredge got out of the war with one of those
million dollar wounds and a Purple Heart. His wound was serious enough that he
never returned to the Company.
********************
The fierce fighting on the streets of Wingen continued but no further gains
were made by the GIs. One platoon was not enough strength to conduct a successful
attack against numerically superior forces that were firmly entrenched in nearly every
important building and house. Except for one medium tank, the GI's heaviest
firepower was two BARS. The Third Squad BAR man, Pfc Jimmy Piper, positioned
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himself in a cellar at the intersection where he could fire down the street from a small
window at the street level. Piper was an excellent BAR man who had qualified as an
Expert Marksman with both the M-1 Rifle and the BAR. He was worth his salt that
day in Wingen where he killed more than his share of enemy soldiers. He also
showed his ability to satisfy his hunger and thirst In the basement of the building
where he set up his BAR position, he discovered some home canned sour cherries
and green apples, which he relished though they puckered him up a little. He also
found a cache of cognac that he used to wash down the cherries and apples. Like the
other riflemen, Piper too ran short of ammunition and had to fire fewer rounds and
attempt to make every shot count. On the ground floor of the same building his
Squad Leader, S/Sgt. Les Westcott lay seriously wounded with a bullet in his chest.
He was hit by an enemy rifleman who picked him off from an upper floor of a nearby
building.
As the day began to draw to a close, Lt. Arnest was faced with the problems
of deploying the men for the night, getting the wounded evacuated, and replenishing
the ammunition and ration supplies. Several times that afternoon, attempts were
made to bring in more ammunition, but with very little success. The German fields
of fire were so well placed on the road leading into Wingen that it was extremely
hazardous to get in and out of the village. Only the ammunition brought in by
Clements that morning made its way to the men in the village.
Shortly before dusk machine gun and rifle fire were heard entering the scene
from the west. Two Sherman tanks surrounded by riflemen of Company G, 274th
Infantry Regiment were seen approaching through the din and smoke. They were a
welcome sight, though it took some doing for the GIs of Company A to satisfy the
approaching infantrymen that they were Yanks, not Germans. The Second Battalion,
274th Infantry came to attack Wingen from the west and apparently the forward
elements did not know that Company A had a platoon locked in combat inside the
town. They ceased firing only after GIs on the street swore at them in colorful
English, using terminology that only a GI could use and recognize. Fortunately there
were no casualties from the friendly fire! Lt. Colonel Wallace Robert Cheves' 2nd
Battalion, 274th Infantry (Companies E, F, and G) moved into positions west of the
village in preparation for an attack in battalion strength. No one could ever adequately put into words what those weary men felt as they watched the reinforcements
arrive. It was their prayers answered. Without help, Arnest could no longer sustain
the attack nor would it be possible to withdraw. His men were so deeply committed
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that it would have been unable for them to disengage themselves from the enemy and
at the same time evacuate the wounded.
An hour later, Lt. Arnest received orders from Battalion Headquarters to move
his men from the streets of Wingen to their original positions south of the village.
The Company A men in the village were replaced by elements of the 274th Infantry.
With covering fire from the two tanks and the 274th riflemen, the Company A men
managed to get their wounded off the blood stained streets and to the forward aid
station. They took their SS prisoners with them and left many SS corpses and
wounded Germans behind. As the German prisoners were taken out of the village,
some of the Second Platoon men got on their feet and started to follow. Bambrick
jumped up and shouted, "Stay down, the war's not over!" It was for his leadership
abilities and his concern for the men that later got Bambrick a battlefield commission.
Late in the day, when the men were out of the village, the 274th Infantry set up
defensive positions and made preparations to resume the attack the following
morning.
The exhausted, blood stained and battered riflemen rejoined their company,
which was making a desperate stand against the relentless onslaught of the SS
Mountain Troops. Lt. Arnest returned to the CP to take command of the Company,
and to make provisions to evacuate the many wounded men. T/Sgt. Brewer took the
First Platoon back to the company reserve where Lt. Doenges told the men to
reoccupy the same positions they were in early that morning. The Second Platoon
men returned to their positions in the open area facing the southwest edge of Wingen.
Lt. Schollander told the First Scout, Pfc Frank Lowry to take charge because both the
squad leader and the assistant squad leader were wounded and evacuated. The
exhausted men had hoped for a little rest that night, but there were no reserve forces
to relieve them. Their ranks were depleted to the extent that no one dared to close his
eyes for fear of waking up to an enemy bayonet or a potato masher.(A potato masher
was a German grenade on the end of a hammer like handle that resembled an old
fashioned potato masher.) Darkness came early to usher in another long and bitter
cold night. All night long the enemy probed at the Company A positions in repeated
attempts to get through the lines and to the high ground in the forest behind.
Sometime after midnight while Jury was making the rounds of the Third Platoon
positions, discovered two of his men dead in their foxhole. Pfc Robert E Groce and
Pfc John E Lackey were both killed by small arms fire. John Lackey was from
California, was married and had a year old daughter. "Chief" was sick when he saw
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the two frozen bodies in that foxhole. He said a short prayer, then continued
checking on the rest of his men.
********************
The horrors of nights such as that are virtually indescribable, yet were very
much a part of the combat infantryman's life. One who has never experienced a cold
miserable night in a frozen foxhole following a long day of intense fighting, cannot
possibly fathom the excruciating agony and suffering of the rifleman in that small
hole. His foxhole was often stained with his blood or the blood of a buddy. He has
seen his friends die horrible deaths. The sounds of those crying out in pain and
calling "Aid Man! Aid Man!" keep ringing in his ears. Only the infantryman who
has lived through it, really knows how it was. All night long a man is tense, scared,
and spends the endless hours on the alert staring into the darkness. Often he hears
sounds and sees movement, when there may be nothing out there to see or hear. With
a grenade in one near-frozen hand, the other hand on his rifle and a prayer on his lips,
he watches, listens and waits. His bruised body aches from hitting the frozen ground
and rubble and his stomach is in knots from the pangs of dysentery. His ears ache
and his hearing is impaired from mortar, tank, and machine gun fire. He is tortured
by the intense cold, and his fear is genuine. Not only are his hands and feet near
frozen, the extreme cold burns his eyes, ears, lips and cheeks. It burns his throat all
the way down to his lungs. He is dead tired and weary but stays alert, and dares not
fall asleep. Some were in too much misery to sleep and some were afraid to go to
sleep. But everyone knew that his life and the lives of his buddies depended on his
staying awake and on guard. He would give anything for a cup of hot coffee and a
smoke.
After a few days and nights on the battlefield, there were no Sundays,
Mondays, Tuesdays or other days of the week. The days did not begin or end. No
one knew what date it was and no one cared. They were engaged in a confrontation
with both the enemy and with nature in a catastrophic winter, the likes of which few
of them had ever encountered. Frequently when a guy was pinned down, he was
unable to get out of his foxhole to make a "call of nature." He sometimes urinated
in his helmet and pitched the contents out of the hole. Sometimes he had to defecate
in the foxhole and shovel it out with his entrenching tool. He soon learned to always
carry some toilet paper folded up in an inside pocket to keep it dry. Toilet paper was
nearly as precious as dry socks and ammunition.
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In those frozen holes in foreign soil thousands of miles from home, young men
faced challenges that in their wildest dreams they never thought would confront
them. There was living proof that "There are no atheists in foxholes." Though a
man may not have uttered a prayer in his life, he quickly learned to pray in those
miserable holes and he was not afraid to admit it. They prayed to stay alive, they
prayed for courage, and they prayed for the strength to hold up under the stresses of
combat. They probably prayed more that they would not let their buddies down or
do anything to further jeopardize their lives. Each prayed in his own way. Some
carried miniature bibles, prayer books and rosaries on their persons, and many wore
medals and crosses on neck chains or on the chain with their dog tags.
********************
At the crack of dawn on January 6, the sounds of gun fire in the village
intensified as Company F, 274th Infantry resumed the attack inside Wingen where
Company A left off the night before. At the same time elements of the 276th Infantry
started clearing the forest north of Wingen adjacent to the railroad. About mid-day
Lt. Col Cheves found it necessary to commit Lt. Fred "Casey" Cassidy's Company G
to the fighting. By then there should have been no question in anyone's mind that the
Americans were up against a much larger force than earlier reports suggested. New
information from S-2 indicated that perhaps there were 200 enemy troops in the area,
whereas in reality there were more than 900 SS Mountain troops in and immediately
adjacent to Wingen. The GIs continued to wonder where S-2 got its information,
which to that point in time was not even close. One sure thing was that they did not
get their information from the officers and men on the firing line. As Brewer
described the S-2 information: "It was no damn good and as worthless as tits on a
bull. The Army should put all intelligence officers on the front line."
Like the opposition that Company A encountered the day before, the 274th
men met savage resistance. The two companies of riflemen fought their way from
shell hole, to ditch, to house to barn with close support from the tanks. Company F
suffered heavy casualties including the loss of its company commander, executive
officer and most of its senior noncommissioned officers. That caliber of SS soldier
did not give ground easily, and never without a fight to the end.
While the men of the 274th Infantry continued the attack on the streets of
Wingen, the fierce fighting and mounting casualties intensified in Company A's
sector. The German mountain infantry made repeated efforts to drive a wedge in
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Company A's defenses and break out of the town to the south. That afternoon, heavy
mortar barrages and intensive machine gun fire inflicted many more casualties in the
Second Platoon. Until that time, most of the enemy fire was from automatic weapons
and light mortars, but none was from heavy mortars. During a mortar barrage, there
was absolutely no way that men could fight back. They were forced to sit on the
bottom of their holes, pinned down and frustrated, and pray that none of the incoming
mail was addressed to them. Whenever the mortar fire would let up and the men
attempted to lift their heads and look around, machine gun fire poured in. A man did
not dare attempt to get out of his hole or stick his head up for so much as a minute for
fear of getting it blown off. While the Second Platoon was taking a pounding, the
mortar fire zeroed in on its First Squad with three shells exploding directly on its
positions. From several foxholes shouts of pain and "HELP-HELP-AID MAN!"
pierced the frigid winter air.
There were no aid men available because the two company medics, Pfc Moore
and Pfc Roberts were severely wounded, having been shot the day before while
tending wounded riflemen. That made the GIs madder than hell, as the medics were
clearly identified by large red crosses on their helmets and arm brassards, and
according to the rules of the Geneva Convention, the aid men were unarmed. Moore
was shot at close range while in the village with the First Platoon. Roberts was shot
through the neck, making it appear as though the red cross painted on his helmet was
used as a target. Later that day, Moore died of the gunshot wounds and that night
Roberts was evacuated in very serious condition. Everyone had grave concerns that
the rules of the Geneva Convention may not be worth a damn.
A heavy mortar shell exploded on the right parapet of the hole occupied by the
Second Platoon guide, S/Sgt. Bill Powers and Frank Lowry. There was nothing they
could do while mortar shells were coming in except get to the bottom of the hole and
wait it out. They sat side by side, Powers on the left and Lowry on the right. Seeing
blood dripping from Lowry's hand, Powers asked "Where did it get you old man?"
then he slumped forward. A piece of shrapnel tore through his helmet and entered
his head at the right temple. Lowry, while calling in vain for help, removed Powers'
helmet and applied the usual first aid packet and sulfa to the gaping wound in his
head. No matter what he did, he was unable to stem the flow of blood, which was
gushing profusely from his nose and mouth with every gasp. Lowry was stunned to
see the size of the wound in Powers' right temple caused by a piece of shrapnel that
did not even graze his own helmet while he was sitting directly to Powers' right.
Their heads could not have been more than fifteen or eighteen inches apart. A few
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minutes later, which seemed like hours to Lowry, Bill Powers was dead; his battered
head in the sticky blood soaked arms of a buddy. Company A lost another fine
soldier and one of it's most respected sergeants. Ironically, Powers should never have
been in that forward position where he died. He had come out to the exposed area
to take over for the Second Platoon Sergeant who was back at the CP, a victim of
shock and unable to carry out his responsibilities. Shortly before the mortar barrage
that killed him, Powers was talking about his wife and little boy back in Kansas. "He
is the best looking kid in town, and when he gets a little older all the girls will stand
up and take notice. When he goes to college, he'll play football for Notre Dame."
Pfc. Gerald
Stonehouse, a husky,
seemingly fearless
young man from
Cicero (suburb of Chicago), heard the unheeded calls for aid
men.
He dashed
across the open field
through a rain of machine gun fire and
made his way into the
hole where Bill Powers was dying. Being
unable to help, he ran
to the next foxhole
where he heard the cry
This sketch by Eddie Tsukimura portrays the horror he felt when he first saw the bodies of
"HELP! HELP!"
Powers and Stonehouse after the fighting at Wingen-sur-Moder - January 1945
Pfc Hidemaru "Johnnie" Yasutake, a Second Platoon rifleman, was alone in that foxhole when he was hit
in the elbow by shrapnel. Like Eddie Tsukimura, Johnnie was also a GI of Japanese
descent from California who had voluntarily enlisted in the Army. After tending
Johnnie's shrapnel wounds, Stonehouse ran forward to check on Powers, who by that
time was dead. He started to make a run for the CP to get a liter and more first aid
packets when machine gun fire got him in the head, chest and stomach. He never had
a chance. Lowry tried to give him covering fire, but he got off only one round when
burp-gun fire blasted the rifle from his hands, splintered the stock and sheared off the
rear sight. Snow and dirt hit him in the face, but miraculously he was untouched by
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the bullets. A brave man met death because of voluntary actions far beyond the call
of duty. He could have remained in his own foxhole further back, but he chose to go
out to the forward positions to help his buddies. For those brave deeds at Wingen,
Pfc Gerald Stonehouse was posthumously awarded the Silver Star Medal. The heavy
mortar barrage continued for several minutes and resulted in many casualties. No one
could tell from which direction the mortars came. When mortar and artillery shells
burst that close, one never hears them coming. The men in the foxholes assumed that
the Germans had gotten reinforcements, but they later learned that was not the case.
The Germans at Wingen had no heavy mortars, but there were two American heavy
weapons companies with 81mm mortars within range of Company A. No one ever
learned for sure, but it is quite possible that the forward platoons of Company A were
the targets of "friendly fire." That afternoon many prayers were said in those
foxholes. During a mortar or artillery barrage, when a man cannot see his enemy, he
cannot fight back. He sits in the bottom of his hole and does a lot of praying.
For the rest of the day the remaining men of the two forward platoons were
virtually prisoners in their foxholes. All that they could see was the grey sky above
and occasionally clouds of black smoke from bursting mortar shells. The thought
occurred to everyone in those holes that eventually he would look up and see a
German bayonet or grenade. For that reason he often sat crouched in the bottom of
his hole, with his rifle pointed upward with a fixed bayonet ready to greet any hostile
intruder. The whole area reeked with the acrid smell of stale gunpowder and the
nauseating metallic stench of blood.
Evening approached and the battle for Wingen appeared to be far from over.
The Second Battalion of the 274th Infantry fought its way into the interior of the
village and made substantial progress, but it was unable to claim a victory. At dusk
the enemy counterattacked. Lt. Wolf Zoepf, the German Third Battalion Adjutant,
led the attack. From the vicinity of the railroad station, the SS Mountain Troops
came at the GIs running, leaping fences, yelling and shooting. They were seemingly
blind to the angry response of the American fire. The German counterattack forced
the GIs in the village to withdraw to the west edge of town, losing everything they
gained that day. After dark, the men of the 274th set up defensive positions and
made preparations for another counterattack during the night. There was no way for
the GIs to know if the Germans had received reinforcements or if the attack that hit
them on the left flank was made by troops already in the area. In preparing their
defenses, they prepared for the worst, but the Germans attempted no further hostile
action that night.
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On the following morning after another miserable night, the GIs resumed the
offensive. In the village, the men of the 274th advanced against less enemy
opposition, and Company A received very little enemy fire. The German positions
south of the Moder were all but deserted. The Trailblazers had badly beaten the two
battalions of SS Mountain troops. They retreated during the night and slipped
through the American lines and into the dense forest. They were forced to leave
some 100 severely wounded troops in their aid station and another 100 lighter
wounded who were not fit to join the retreating troops on their escape route into Les
Vosges mountains. There were still some German troops in Wingen attempting to
hold the town, but many of them were wounded, hungry, and nearly out of
ammunition. The fighting continued until midmorning when the Trailblazers at long
last occupied Wingen and all that remained to be done was the mopping up action.
The SS Mountain Battalions were beaten back and the Trailblazers stopped
Operation Nordwind's deepest penetration into Allied Lines. It was a victory for the
Trailblazers but at the time the men did not know the importance of Wingen. For
them it was a disaster because many of their buddies had made the supreme sacrifice
and would no longer be with them. Men of Company E, 274th Infantry freed more
than three-hundred GIs held captive in the Catholic Church. Most of those liberated
were soldiers of the 45th Infantry Division. A few were Company B Trailblazers
who were captured the morning of January 4, when the 12th SS Mountain Regiment
attacked and took Wingen. Many were wounded and all were cold, sick and damn
hungry after having had nothing to eat for three days. The Germans had very little
chow for themselves, so it was no surprise that the prisoners got no food. Fortunately, the medical attention given the wounded prisoners by the Germans was
reported to have been equivalent to that given to their own wounded men. The
captured American medical personnel and the German medics appeared to have
cooperated with each other in taking care of the wounded of both sides. Both
American and German doctors treated all the wounded soldiers as human beings
rather than as friend or enemy.
Later in the day, when Wingen was securely in Trailblazer hands, Lt. Arnest
had the Second and Third Platoon men in the forward positions vacate their foxholes
and pull back to edge of the woods near the Company CP. Due to the intense cold
and some frostbitten limbs, several men required help in getting out of their foxholes.
Sgt. Robert Wood, a machine gun squad leader had both feet frozen and was
evacuated. He spent the next month in a field hospital. The late afternoon was spent
around some fires where the near-frozen GIs heated Nescafe and K rations, took care
of their feet and cleaned their rifles. They exchanged information about the week's
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painful experiences and searched out missing buddies. When Sgt. "Red Ass" Haller
saw Lowry carrying the remains of his rifle in one hand and Powers’ rifle in the
other, he shouted: "Good God Lowry, where in the hell you been, in a slaughter
house?" It seemed like everyone was looking for or asking about somebody. All too
often the answer was "he got it" or "he's dead" or "he didn't make it" or "the bastards
killed him." Sgt. Palacio, who had managed to avoid the worst of the fighting, came
on the scene looking for S/Sgt. Bill Powers. When someone told him that Bill was
killed the day before, he would not believe it and wanted to see the body. Lowry
pointed out the direction of the foxhole where he could find Bill’s body and told
Palacio to walk about one hundred yards. Palacio was visibly shaken up and not
wanting to go alone, he told Lowry to lead the way. When they got within a few feet
from where Gerald Stonehouse's bloody bullet riddled body lay frozen on the parapet
and Bill Powers' body in the bottom of the foxhole, Palacio took one look, did an
about face, and wasted no time in getting back to the CP. The tough loud "top-kick"
who in the past had taken pleasure in trying to scare the hell out of the men, was as
meek as a lamb.
For two or three hours, the men lingered around the fires stomping their feet,
moving their fingers and toes in an attempt to warm their numb bodies and limbs. In
retrospect, they could hardly believe the horrors that they had experienced in just a
few days. Everyone found it hard to believe that they were permanently separated
from so many friends that they would never again see in this life. "Why not me?" or
"How did I escape?" or "For the grace of God and a tiny fraction of an inch, I could
be laying out there stiff and cold," or some similar comment was audibly uttered by
nearly all of the survivors. There were many tears in the eyes of those young men.
As miserable as they felt, they all thanked God to be alive. "WAR IS HELL!"
The rumor circulated that the outfit would not immediately pursue the enemy
but would hold back for some rest, a change of clothing, hot chow, and badly needed
medical attention. Many were suffering from the "GIs" (dysentery) which was
believed to have been caused by eating frozen rations and snow. There were many
cases of frostbitten hands and feet that were excruciatingly painful. The trench foot
that was so prevalent had taken a heavy toll. In some cases, feet were swollen to the
extent that shoe pacs had to be cut off. Some feet were clammy white and in extreme
cases, blue and black. Those men were taken along with the wounded to an
evacuation station that was set up at Zittersheim, a few miles to the rear.
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For Company A's GIs, the BAPTISM OF FIRE was over. By their
confrontation with the best troops that Hitler had to throw against them, the men of
Company A were initiated into the ranks of combat veterans, and were entitled to
proudly wear the badge of the COMBAT INFANTRYMAN (The most coveted
award in the Army). As the men sipped their coffee, they were haunted by thoughts
of their wounded and fallen comrades who were either dead in and around Wingen
or were on their way to the evacuation station. A little more than a week before, they
were together. The shooting part of the war was not yet a reality in their lives.
Company A paid dearly for it's part in the liberation of Wingen and stopping
the enemy spearhead. Everyone wondered why such a high price for such a little
town in those remote mountains of Northeastern France. Though they played a major
role in the campaign to stop the Nazi war machine, the men had not yet heard of
Operation Nordwind. They knew very little about the Ardennes Offensive, or Battle
of the Bulge as it was later known. It was there on the streets of Wingen-sur-Moder
and in the bloody foxholes south of Wingen that Hitler's last major offensive of
World War II was beaten back. By stopping the German offensive at Wingen, the
supply lines to the north were held in tact, resulting in that major phase of Operation
Nordwind to be a failure for the Nazis. Unfortunately, the men did not learn of the
strategic importance of their victory at Wingen until long after the fighting was over.
More than fifty men of Company A
were casualties in the warfare in and
around Wingen and for many of those the
war was over. They would not fight again
and some would wear their battle scars for
the rest of their lives. One officer and
twelve enlisted men were dead. Killed in
the action at Wingen-sur-Moder in Les
Vosges mountains of Alsace were:
Pfc Calvin Corbell, Pfc Robert
Elam, Pfc Robert Groce, Pfc John
Lackey, Pvt. Pablo Martinez, 2nd Lt.
Richard McClintock, Pfc Walter
McDaniel, Pfc William Moore, Pfc Arthur Peterson, S/Sgt. Wilburn Powers, Pfc Robert Shooter, Pfc Gerald Stonehouse, Pvt. Steven Valenzuela, and Pvt. Eugene Wilson.
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Those men saw only a few days combat, some experienced only a few hours,
but for them it was the rest of their lives. The combat infantrymen of Company A
would soon learn that Wingen-sur-Moder was just the beginning. In the months that
were to follow, many more close friendships would be ended by casualties on the
battlefields of Europe.
Sketch by Pfc Eddie Tsukimura - January 1945
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The fighting at Wingen-sur-Moder - January 1945 by Pfc Eddie Tsukimura
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After the Battle at Wingen-sur-Moder - January 7, 1945 (Photo by Garstki)
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John Haller and Frank Lowry at the hand carved monument erected by the people of Wingen-sur-Moder at the Town Square in front
of the Catholic Church. Inscribed on the plaque is: “IN TRIBUTE to the men of the 274th and 276th Infantry Regiments US who won
the freedom of Wingen-sur-Moder and in memory of those who gave their lives in the battle. Dedicated September 22, 1991"
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9. LES VOSGES - HILLS 403 AND 358
The battle at Wingen-Sur-Moder would soon become a dismal memory of a
nightmare that the men would not soon forget but would have very little time to dwell
on. In the afternoon of January 7, after gathering at the edge of the woods south of
the village, Company A was ordered to the town of Mulhausen about ten miles to the
east (Map 7, pg. 120). Before leaving the Moder Valley, the men went from foxhole
to foxhole and gathered up the rifles and grenades left behind by the wounded. There
were not many to be found because most of them were sought out and used during
the fighting. At the command of "on your feet!", they finished off their coffee, put
out their cigarettes, picked up their packs and equipment, and fell into company
formation by platoons. The men slowly marched away from the snow covered valley
with the usual five yard intervals between each soldier. Hardly a word was uttered
to break the deep silence that came over the entire area. Only a few hours earlier, all
one could hear were the repetitious sounds of warfare. A crescendo of rifle and
machine-gun fire, mortar bursts, grenades, potato mashers, screeching tank tracks,
cannon fire, burp-guns, bazookas, panzerfausts, sergeants shouting orders, and cries
for help and for aid men. Then there was silence, but the stench and smoke remained
and ears were ringing from the din of battle.
While walking away from Wingen, occasionally a man looked back on the
scene of his "baptism of fire" and the place where the bodies of many of his comrades
still lay. What was a quaint hamlet in a peaceful appearing snow-covered valley just
a few days earlier, had become a village of demolished smoldering houses in a valley
scarred with bloody foxholes and black shell craters. It was a field littered with
abandoned equipment, shell casings, debris, ration covers, mangled bodies and parts
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LES VOSGES -HILLS 403 AND 358
of bodies. Many men left their sleeping bags and gas masks behind. Somehow they
felt that there would be little or no need for gas masks, and they considered the
mummy bags to be death traps. Undoubtedly the homeless villagers of Wingen made
good use of the mummy bags. Many of their houses were in ruins and their
possessions destroyed. In spite of their own hardships, the GIs could not avoid
120
reflecting on the misery and suffering that the people of Wingen, particularly the
women and children, were forced to endure. As miserable as the men were, they
could not help but think of their own families and thank God that their homeland and
loved ones were spared the carnage that was taking place in Europe.
For more than two hours the totally exhausted battle weary men trod and
stumbled over the frozen roadway. Vehicle tracks had become ice, which resulted
in a slippery rutted surface. Feet would often slide out from under a man and he
would go down with a crash. Even with the help of his buddies, getting back on his
feet after a fall took what little strength a weary man could muster. When the
company arrived at the hamlet of Zittersheim, trucks were waiting to transport the
men to Mulhausen. They were used to climbing in and out of the beds of Army
trucks with ease, but that evening they found it a real chore. Everyone was simply
sapped of all his energy and drowsy from lack of sleep. Their bodies ached from
head to toe. Frequently one had to have a boost from a buddy in order to get aboard.
The temperature was below zero and the ride on the trucks was unbearably cold. At
their destination the men again had to exercise great care in climbing down from the
truck beds. A broken or sprained ankle did not get one the Purple Heart.
They arrived at Mul
hausen late that night and
took advantage of vacant
houses, barns and haylofts for
billets. It was a real treat to
get in out of the freezing
weather for a few hours.
Guards were posted at various
strategic points throughout
the village to provide absolute
interior and exterior security.
The men had not forgotten
what happened to those men of the 45th Division that were in Wingen when the 6th
SS Mountain troops burst in and disrupted their sleep. Enemy troops were reportedly
in the area, so that sort of disaster was not going to happen to the Trailblazers. Next
the GIs set about their primary responsibilities of caring for their feet and weapons.
Foremost on their minds was a hot meal, but they settled for C rations and hot coffee.
In less than an hour all "necessities" and "musts" were taken care of, and the men
sacked out on the floors and in the straw. In France they learned what the expression
121
"hit the hay" really meant. Sleeping on straw or in a hay loft was a luxury that they
did not come by often. Although the houses were not heated, it was not nearly as
cold in the buildings as it was out in the foxholes. No one noticed that the floors
were hard and drafty.
The next morning, for the first time in a week, the men shed their overcoats,
jackets and sweaters and cleaned up a little. The cooks provided hot water and the
men used their steel helmets for basins. They washed their grimy hands and faces and
took turns shaving with a few razors that some of the men managed to stow away in
their packs. They cleaned up as best they could under the circumstances, but had to
remain in their filthy uniforms as no change of clothing was available. Those who
were not standing guard took advantage of the opportunity to grab a few more winks
while Pupinski and Scopp were busy cooking up some hot chow. Shortly after noon,
the men were awakened for chow call and they took turns eating and relieving the
guards. After several days of eating nothing but cold and often frozen K and C
rations, the hot meal was like a banquet. While the men were eating, the mail clerk,
Pfc Don Carroll, came up with letters and packages that had accumulated for more
than a week. Some received belated Christmas parcels containing homemade cookies
and candy, which they readily shared with their buddies. What a treat it was to
receive those parcels from home! Whenever Lowry received a package of cookies
or home made fudge, the parcel always contained two or three pairs of heavy wool
socks his mother knitted with olive drab yarn. He shared the cookies and candy, but
not the socks which were far superior to the GI issue.
After chow, Lt. Arnest called the platoon leaders together and told them to
have their men ready to move out at a moments notice. The Company would be
committed to the attack early the next morning and they could expect to leave for the
line of departure sometime that night. The CO had no idea where they were going
or what to expect. The men had their hearts set on a few days of much needed rest
but they were beginning to learn that warfare was full of disappointments. They were
thankful for having slept for a few hours out of the foxholes. Each man made a final
check on the operation of his rifle, drew extra bandoleers of ammunition and hand
grenades, then hit the deck for a little more shut-eye. No one had the foggiest idea
what Company A's mission was to be, however it really did not matter to the men as
they were learning to live with confusion and sudden moves. After having fought
one hell of a battle at a time when they were supposed to have been in Corps Reserve,
against what was termed "a few hungry Germans," nothing could surprise them.
122
Like most troops on the front, the men of Company A knew very little about
the general situation of the war in Europe. Since arriving on the Western Front,
Company A had been mostly in a defensive posture. To them it appeared that the
Germans were in control and calling all the shots. In reality, the Battle of The Bulge
continued in an indecisive stage. With the First and Third Armies counterattacking
to the northwest, the Germans no longer held the offensive initiative in that sector.
In the immediate vicinity, the Germans held the initiative from Bitche to Haguenau.
The desperately thin American lines were breached in several places and were pushed
back five miles in the area of Wingen. The lines were continuously probed and
infiltrated, and the real estate frequently changed hands. The rank and file on the
front lines knew that things were not going well, but they had no idea of the real
impact of The Battle of The Bulge and Operation Nordwind. They were too close
to the forest to see the trees.
Shortly after dark, everyone was awakened for another chow call. One
platoon at a time lined up on a dark street in Mulhausen with their mess gear and
canteen cups. As each man finished eating, he hurried to relieve a sentry so that
everyone would have an opportunity to grab some chow. Shortly after the last
platoon passed through the chow line, the squad leaders were instructed to get their
men on the road and prepare to move out. In the Army, everything is "hurry up and
wait,” which certainly applied to the situation that night. The troops were on the
street and ready to go at 2100 but it was midnight before trucks arrived to take them
to their next destination. By that time the comforting effects of the hot meal had long
since worn off and the men were chilled to the bone from sitting around for three
hours in freezing weather on the cold cobble stone. There was an old army adage
that said that when a guy joined the Army he gave up all rights except his right to
"Bitch." That night on the streets of Mulhausen, the men exercised that sole right to
the fullest extent.
While the men waited on the streets, the platoon leaders and platoon sergeants
met with the CO for a final briefing before departure. Lt. Arnest oriented his officers
and NCOs as to the situation that would confront the Company in the early morning.
The Regiment was ordered to attack a designated area in Les Vosges mountains,
block any enemy advances then clear the mountains of enemy troops. A report from
S-2 suggested that there were only a few enemy soldiers holding the area and
threatening to break out. They were short of supplies and probably ready to
surrender. When the men heard that bit of intelligence, they burst forth with
spontaneous expletives of disbelief. They could not help but recall the S-2 appraisal
123
of the situation at Wingen. No one believed what he heard, but each had something
to say such as; "Not again!" or "Some Shit!." Pfc Joe Kufersin burst into song with
"Seems to me I've heard that song before!"
124
Early in the morning of January 9, Company A was trucked from Mulhausen
ten miles north to the town of Zinswiller (Map 8, pg. 124). Under cover of darkness,
the Company went on foot about five miles northwest on the Zinswiller-Baerenthal
Road to the line of departure. The unimproved mountain road was narrow and
winding. The LD (line of departure) was a winding stretch of road about a quarter
of a mile southeast of Obermuhlthal, a small hamlet situated in a very mountainous
region of Les Vosges. The going was exceedingly slow and tough as the frozen
compacted snow on the uneven road surface was very slippery. In the darkness, the
men repeatedly slipped and lost their footing. When a man stumbled, he often caused
several men behind him to collide, piercing the silence with a clash of steel helmets
and rifle barrels.
After the "hurry-up and wait" routine and sitting around in the cold half the
night, the Company was under extreme pressure to arrive at the LD before 0800 Hhour. They reached the designated assembly area with a mere fifteen minutes to
spare, which was hardly enough time for the men to grab a quick K ration, put on a
change of socks, and make a call of nature.
At daybreak, two companies of the First Battalion, 276th Infantry, were poised
on the line of departure, Company A was on the left and Company C on the right.
They were prepared to launch an attack westward into a dense forest. (Map 8, pg.
124). Companies B and D of the First Battalion were in reserve and would follow
forward companies. The Second Battalion was to the left of Company A and units
of the 275th Infantry were near the town of Baerenthal to the right of Company C.
The units were widely spaced along the LD. There were several hundred yards
between some companies.
At the first light of day and as "H-hour" approached, the men saw for the first
time the nature of the terrain they had to traverse. On both sides of the winding road,
the mountains rose precipitously and were covered with timber, dense underbrush,
and a foot or more of snow. Jagged rocks protruded everywhere and the entire area
appeared totally uninhabitable. Everyone wondered what in the hell Germans would
be doing in a place such as that in the dead of winter, and why was it so damned
important to sacrifice GI lives to go after them?. In their wildest imaginations, they
could not conceive of anything in those mountains that could be worth fighting for.
The men had visions of brass hats sitting around a table in a warm room, far from the
battlefield, drinking hot coffee and brandy as they moved pawns on a map. The
pawns representing companies of foot-slogging "dog face" infantrymen. That was
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LES VOSGES - HILLS 403 AND 358
not the case, of course, but the GIs were not aware of the fact that the Germans were
attempting to control the roads through Les Vosges to Zinswiller where they planned
to break out into the Alsatian Plain with two awaiting panzer divisions. Like the
situation at Wingen where the enemy had to be denied access to the mountain outlet
at Saverne, they had to be denied an outlet at Zinswiller. One of the many
unfortunate things about warfare is that the men at the front who endure the brunt of
the fighting seldom know the reasons behind the orders passed down from higher
authority. Theirs is not to reason why, but to do or die!
At exactly 0800, Company A started forward from the line of departure. Lt.
Schollander's Second Platoon was on the left and T/Sgt Wagger's Third Platoon was
on the right. Lt. Doenges' First Platoon and Lt. Jenkins' Weapons Platoon followed
in support. Due to the precipitous terrain and a thick blanket of snow, the going was
extremely slow and torturous. To make matters worse, everyone was still exhausted
from the ordeal at Wingen. Hour after hour, in squad columns, the men climbed
higher and deeper into the mountains. They could not keep their rifles in a ready
position but had to sling them over their shoulders or across their backs as they
needed their arms and hands free for climbing. That made for a very precarious
situation in case of an ambush. The ruggedness of the terrain and the broad area that
each company had to cover made it virtually impossible for the advancing companies
to maintain contact with each other.
About ten that morning, the forward scouts observed disturbances and fresh
footprints in the snow. The CO held up the advance while the scouts reconnoitered
the area but they did not see any enemy troops. The pace became slower and slower,
and at times the columns came to a near standstill. The men were hoping, that after
not seeing any Wehrmacht soldiers, the seemingly stupid exercise in futility would
soon be called off. In reality, they all knew that such good luck was not coming their
way and that they were only dreaming. Shortly before noon, after four hours of
trudging through the forest and in and out of ravines, Company A reached its first
objective. The men were beginning to believe that they were on a wild goose chase.
Then they heard the unmistakable sounds of small arms fire emanating from their
right rear (northeast). That was a strong indication that Company C was engaged in
a firefight somewhere in the area of the village of Obermuhlthal. If that were the
case, Company A was well out in front of Company C and Company A's right flank
was fully exposed. To make a bad situation worse, the CO was not able to contact
Company C on the radio. Having received no orders to the contrary, Lt. Arnest
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Les Vosges Mountains, January 1945 during “Operation Nordwind.” Infantry moving out from the line of departure under gray skies
in sub-zero weather. (Photo by Garstki)
ordered the Company to continue toward its next objective that was further west into
the mountains.
In the early afternoon, Armstrong, who was rear security for the First Platoon,
observed three enemy soldiers pass behind the Company. They were moving in a
southerly direction and they appeared surprised at seeing GI footprints in the snow.
They paused for a moment, eyeballed the area, then continued south. Armstrong
decided against opening fire and hurried forward to alert Lt. Doenges, who in turn
sent a runner to pass the word to the Company Commander. He told Armstrong to
return to the rear and keep a sharp lookout for more Germans. Lt. Arnest opted to
keep the Company slowly moving forward and cautioned the platoon leaders to
watch their flanks.
An hour later, the Second Platoon scouts reported enemy soldiers to their front
and immediately the forward platoons spread out and took cover in depressions and
behind rocks and trees. Company A faced what might be a large patrol of twentyfive to thirty enemy troops. The Germans were deployed in a densely wooded area
127
on the opposite side of a small clearing and were wearing white parkas, which made
it very difficult to pick them out in the snow covered terrain. For a few seconds
neither the GIs nor the Germans fired a shot and for a moment it appeared as though
each side was waiting for the other to open fire. Two enemy soldiers came out of the
woods and one was waving what appeared to be a white flag. Apparently they
wanted to negotiate, possibly surrender or demand that the GIs surrender, then
suddenly a shot rang out and the battle was on. Lt. Donald Schollander made a dash
out to his forward scouts who were about twelve yards ahead of the riflemen and was
hit point blank by enemy rifle fire. His men knew that he was badly wounded or dead
because he never made a move after he fell. Bullets and machine gun tracers came
at the Second and Third Platoons from everywhere in the forest ahead. Splinters,
chunks of bark, snow, dirt and rocks sprayed into the men's faces as the enemy fire
poured in. The German infantrymen in their white parkas blended well with the
white terrain, which made it most difficult for the GIs to find their targets.
Occasionally, the men emptied clips of ammunition into areas where they thought the
enemy might be or where they saw any movement. The weather continued to be
extremely cold and some of the M-1 rifles were frozen and had to be hand operated.
Two well-concealed enemy machine guns commenced firing from across a
clearing. The clearing made it difficult for the riflemen to get close enough to silence
the guns with hand grenades and rifle fire alone was not doing the job. The dense
woods made it difficult to launch rifle grenades into the machine gun positions as the
grenades were deflected from their targets by overhanging trees. Lt. Jenkins and
S/Sgt. Jud Harmon maneuvered one machine gun squad up close to the edge of the
clearing to bolster the riflemen's fire power but the gunners were at a disadvantage
in not being dug in. Meanwhile the enemy machine guns kept one squad of the
Second Platoon and all of the Third Platoon pinned down. Armstrong, who up to
that time was securing the rear of the Company, slipped around the left flank of the
Second Platoon to do a little scouting of his own. He crawled within ten yards of the
left gun position without being detected and got off three or four carefully aimed
shots at the gunners. The machine gun went out of action, then Armstrong quickly
got out of there before the enemy figured out where the shots came from. The fierce
fighting raged for three hours and it began to look like a shootout to see who would
be the first to run out of ammunition. Finally, one by one the enemy began to slowly
move back and disengage themselves from the firefight. To make sure that the
Germans were not falling back in preparation for a counterattack, Lt. Arnest ordered
Lt. "Dog Ears" Doenges to move the First Platoon through the Second and Third
Platoons and attack the retreating Wehrmacht. Simultaneously S/Sgt. Russ Causey
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moved his mortar squads up to the edge of the clearing that separated the GIs from
the Germans. From that position, the mortar gunners started lobbing 60mm mortar
shells over the heads of Doenges' riflemen. The Second and Third Platoons were
ordered to hold fast to their positions in the event the First Platoon met a counterattack and was forced to fall back. The enemy eventually fell back into the mountains,
leaving behind several dead and four wounded. Company A riflemen took twelve
prisoners including the wounded Germans. Lt. Donald Schollander laid in the snow
the entire time that the exchange of fire took place. It was not until the first Platoon
made its move to go through the Second and Third Platoons that anyone could get
near him. He was unconscious and nearly frozen to death when "Red" Shelander and
Lowry tried to help him. They took an overcoat from a prisoner and were starting to
make a stretcher when they noticed that the Germans were using a litter to carry one
of their own wounded. In short order, the wounded German was on the improvised
stretcher and Don Schollander was on the real thing.
When the fighting in the woods subsided, the men quickly regrouped, secured
the area and set up temporary defensive positions. They took care of the wounded
and scouted the immediate vicinity for any enemy troops that may have remained.
It was incredible that after a three hour exchange of small arms fire, Company A
suffered only three casualties. The GIs wanted to think that they learned their
survival lesson well at Wingen. The two riflemen were not seriously wounded, but
Lt. Schollander was in very grave condition, having been shot in the stomach and
appeared to be bleeding internally. The bitter cold was not helping his condition.
Since midmorning, the Company had no physical nor radio contact with the
units on either flank. Sometime after the encounter with the Germans began, the CO
also lost radio contact with Battalion Headquarters due to weak batteries and
mountainous terrain. Company A was virtually isolated in the rugged Vosges
mountains. Its officers had no way of knowing how many enemy troops were in the
area and where they might be deployed. Lt. Arnest was not sure of the Company's
precise position, but after he and the other officers studied a crude topographical
map, they concluded that the Company was on the lower slope of a hill designated
as "Hill 403."
As darkness began to set in, the CO ordered the men to form a perimeter
defense, dig in, and stay doubly alert. He established the forward CP in the small
clearing next to a huge boulder that offered some protection from the north. Like the
situation at Wingen, the tired troops once again found themselves attempting to dig
129
foxholes in frozen earth. In those hills, they also had sizeable rocks and roots to
impede their progress. The platoon leaders told their men to go easy on the rations,
water, rifle ammunition, and grenades until it was determined how and when more
supplies would reach the Company. It was not difficult to conserve water because
there was none to worry about. The canteens had been frozen solid since early in the
morning. The rifle platoons established outpost positions on all sides of the company
perimeter so that the men would detect enemy patrols before they could get in close.
From time to time, they took a breather from the digging to check out their rifles and
remove their boots to massage their painfully cold feet. The temperature was ten
degrees below zero.
Lt. Arnest dispatched two patrols, one to the north and one to the south. Their
missions were to make contact with Company C on the right and Second Battalion
on the left. The patrols were out more than an hour but they were unable to find either
unit. A platoon runner, Pfc Millis Griffey, volunteered to go out alone and attempt
to locate Company C. He felt that one man alone could move faster than a patrol and
had a better chance of avoiding the enemy. Griffey took off in the direction of
Obermuhlthal and two hours later he located a Company C outpost south of the
village. When he was challenged, he had a tough time convincing the "Charlie"
Company men that he too, was an American soldier from "Able" Company. They
were very suspicious of anyone approaching their outpost from the west, which they
considered "Jerryland." Finally they let him through, gave him the password and
showed him the way to their CP. The CO, Captain Greenwalt, was relieved to learn
the location of Company A, but he appeared concerned that there was such a great
distance between the two companies. He told Griffey that earlier in the afternoon,
Company C had encountered severe enemy opposition in and around Obermuhlthal.
That prevented his company from taking the town and getting to their planned
objective on schedule. It would be sometime the following day before Company C
could move up abreast of Company A. Griffey also learned that Company B was in
its reserve position about a quarter of a mile south of the town. Captain Greenwalt
made radio contact with Major Edward Joyce at Battalion HQ and obtained orders
for Griffey to relay to Lt. Arnest. After accomplishing his mission, Griffey made his
way back to the Company positions in little more than an hour. He reported the
locations of Companies B and C and the orders from Battalion to Lt. Arnest.
Griffey's message confirmed Lt. Arnest's suspicion that Company A was virtually
isolated nearly a mile ahead of the rest of the battalion and was exposed on all sides.
Company A's orders were to hold its present position until the units on either flank
moved up on line.
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Shortly after Griffey set out to locate Company C, Lt. Arnest ordered T/Sgt.
Galloway to organize a patrol from the Second Platoon to go out and locate the
Battalion CP, secure ammunition, rations and batteries and also get Lt. Schollander
and the other wounded men to an aid station. Galloway picked S/Sgt. Arnold "Red"
Shelander to lead the patrol and "Red" in turn detailed Haller, Ledoux, Bambrick and
Lowry. They took the prisoners for litter bearers and moved out at once. With the
prisoners, two walking wounded GIs, and Lt. Schollander; the men spent four hours
in the darkness making their way through the mountains to the CP. Haller warned
the prisoners carrying the litter bearing Lt. Schollander that if they dropped him or
harmed him in any way, they would be shot. He spoke their language fluently and
had no trouble at all in getting the message across. Haller, Bambrick and Ledoux
spent most of the time with the wounded men and watching the prisoners while
Shelander and Lowry went ahead to scout out the route. The going was extremely
rough and very slow, and the temperature that night was well below zero Fahrenheit.
The GIs were exhausted after the previous twenty-four hours of marching, climbing
through the woods, and fighting. They had no idea where the enemy might be
located so they had to be constantly on the alert for a possible ambush. Worse yet,
they really did not know for sure where they were heading or what they would find
when they got there. The First Battalion CP was supposed to have moved up to
Obermuhlthal, but the men in the patrol did not know if the move was actually made.
They expected that eventually they would encounter elements of a reserve company
by attempting to follow the same route that the Company took in getting into the
mountains. Finding their direction back was very difficult as nothing appeared the
same at night as it did during the daylight hours. Neither "Red" Shelander nor his
men had any idea that Company A was isolated far ahead of the rest of the battalion.
As a result, they became quite uneasy and frustrated when they did not contact any
of the other units while hopefully moving in the direction of the rear. The patrol
would have been difficult enough, but caring for the wounded men and guarding the
prisoners in the darkness did not make it any easier.
********************
While Shelander’s detail slowly made their way through the snow and brush,
the Company was busy making preparations for a possible enemy counterattack.
They strengthened their perimeter positions and improved their fields of fire so that
every possible approach to the company area was covered by interlocking fields of
fire. In the event of a counterattack, the Company could expect no help as there were
no friendly units in the immediate vicinity.
131
When the positions were in place and the men were dug in, they took turns at
trying to get a little sleep during that long, cold, miserable and restless night. They
were all nearly frozen and exhausted as they had been unable to get much sleep after
the fighting at Wingen. Their canteens were frozen, as was the meat and vegetable
hash in the K and C rations. Their hands were cold and numb making it was
extremely difficult to load rifles, open rations, or pull pins from hand grenades. A
man could not button or unbutton his pockets or fly, so once they were opened, they
generally remained that way. Wet and cold feet continued to be one of the men's
biggest concerns and they required constant attention to prevent frost bite and trench
foot. One did not linger while making a call of nature for fear of literally getting his
ass frozen. That below zero weather showed absolutely no mercy on a bare rear-end.
The men were not only attempting to fight a war but were endeavoring to survive the
elements in what was reported to be Europe's coldest and most severe winter in fifty
years. Not since Washington's Army suffered the harsh winter at Valley Forge, had
American soldiers had to fight in such brutal weather. For several days, the
temperature in that part of Les Vosges mountains remained between zero and ten
below. If there was any consolation, the Germans in those mountains had to be just
as cold as the GIs. In spite of the bitter cold, German patrols continued to be active
at night.
Just before daybreak, a German patrol attacked an outpost in the First Platoon
sector of the company perimeter defenses. A German threw a potato masher grenade
into the foxhole occupied by BAR man, Pfc Connon Clements. Clements, not yet
being ready to die, retrieved the grenade and in a split second threw it back to the
Germans. He opened fire with his BAR while he sprayed the area, he shouted, "You
bastards can't kill me!" The explosion of their own grenade in their midst and the
firepower of Clement's BAR encouraged the intruders to depart post haste.
********************
About two in the morning, Red Shelander and the patrol were nearing the last
ridge before reaching Obermuhlthal when they heard the sounds of shovels digging
in stony earth. The big question was, were they friend or foe? With the wounded
officer and the German prisoners to look after, the men were in no position to get into
a firefight. Haller and Ledoux kept guard over the prisoners and Bambrick looked
after the wounded lieutenant while Shelander and Lowry went forward to reconnoiter
the area. They prayed hard that they would encounter GIs and not Germans. After
getting as close as possible to the sounds and listening for a minute or two, "Red"
132
whispered, "They gotta be Americans, Krauts are too smart to make that damn much
noise." The men were in constant fear that the prisoners would cry out or make some
effort to give them away, but Haller managed to convinced them in their own
language that if they made any movement or noise, they would be the first ones to
die. As Shelander and Lowry attempted to get closer to the source of the digging,
they were challenged in English by sentries from the 275th Infantry Regiment. They
thanked God that the sentries did not fire on the patrol before they challenged them.
It took some doing to satisfy the sentries that they were American GIs and not
Germans. Not knowing the password for that day made for a lot of fast explaining
in good unmistakable GI English laced with colorful phrases that only an American
soldier could use. Once they were satisfied that "Red" and his men were not enemy
soldiers, the sentries let the patrol with their wounded officer and prisoners pass
through. A runner led the patrol to the nearest bivouac area and CP, which was about
three hundred yards away. At the CP, a lieutenant provided a jeep and driver to take
Schollander to an aid station. As soon as the litter was placed on the jeep, the
lieutenant took his last breath. One of the Germans placed his ear to Lt. Schollander's
chest, then told Haller that he was dead. Company A lost another competent and well
respected young leader. He remained unconscious from the time he was wounded
on Hill 403 until he died in the remote Vosges mountains of France. Silently, the GIs
bid farewell to their lieutenant and continued on their mission. The two wounded
men were left at the CP to be taken to an aid station. Their next chore was finding
an outfit that would take the German prisoners off their hands. They were told that
Americans were in Obermuhlthal and that was where they would probably locate
their battalion CP.
The patrol made its way to Obermuhlthal and First Battalion Headquarters
without incident. The first thing they did was get their prisoners to a temporary
stockade, then report to 1st/Sgt. Palacio at Company A's rear CP. There they got
some hot coffee, changed their socks and rested for a couple of hours. After that, they
made their way back to the forward CP with as many rations and as much ammunition as they could carry. Since Obermuhlthal was in GI hands, the route back to the
Company was shorter and less arduous than the trip through the mountains. After
looking at a map, the men decided to follow an unimproved road that ran west from
Obermuhlthal for about a mile. From there they turned south and continued for fivehundred yards across a snow covered valley, then went west up the mountain to
where the company was dug in. It took the patrol nearly two hours to get back as
they had to pass through some enemy held territory. It was so cold that the lower
parts of their long overcoats were frozen stiff as boards. When they attempted to run
133
across five-hundred yards of open valley, the frozen front of the coats literally
pounded at their knees. If it were not for four layers of clothing, their knees would
probably have been badly bruised. Dog tired and ready to collapse, they reached the
Company forward CP about ten that morning. They gave Lt. Arnest the radio
batteries, put the ammunition and K rations on the ground, then dropped in the snow.
Most of the Company had already taken off on patrols into the mountains.
********************
Forward positions in Les Vosges Mountains during Operation Nordwind, January 1945 (Photo by Garstki)
At first light on January 10, the 276th Infantry line companies resumed the
attack along the regimental sector of the front. Since Company A was already well
ahead of the units on either side, its mission that day was to hold its present position
and reestablish contact with the units on either flank. The CO was also ordered to
dispatch patrols into the mountains to determine the location and strength of the
enemy. Meanwhile, Company C on the right and Second Battalion on the left would
continue to advance westward and straighten out the line.
134
At 0900, Lt. Arnest sent The First and Third Platoons into the mountains to
the west and southeast. Their missions were to reconnoiter the area, seek out enemy
positions and watch for Second Battalion units. The Second Platoon and a mortar
squad manned the defensive positions around the company perimeter and engaged
in active patrolling to the northeast to prevent enemy forces from infiltrating through
the gap that existed between Companies A and C. While they did not succeed in
contacting the flanking units, they had no difficulty in finding the enemy.
The Third Platoon with a machine gun squad and a mortar squad set out to the
northwest through the dense forest. The men moved slowly and searched the area for
signs of the enemy, but found no tracks in the foot or more of snow that blanketed
the forest. After an hour of trudging through the snow and rocks, they heard the
unmistakable whining sound of "incoming mail." Heavy concentrations of artillery
fire from German 105s descended on Wagger's platoon. The men spread out and
crawled into every hollow and depression in the ground that was in sight. Many of
the detonations were tree bursts that were more deadly than ground explosions
because splinters and jagged chunks of wood propelled earthward with the shrapnel
and concussion. That made it virtually impossible to find cover. When the shelling
abated, the men got on their feet and started to move forward again. They advanced
about a hundred yards when German machine guns from well-placed positions
sprayed the area. In spite of the enemy artillery and machine guns, the Third Platoon
kept pushing ahead to get out from under the artillery bursts. By outflanking the
enemy positions, the GIs were able to root out some of the Germans, but not for long.
When a second barrage of devastating artillery came in, the enemy quickly regrouped,
counterattacked and forced the Third Platoon to fall back to the company perimeter
defense. Some of the men were wounded and could not walk on their own. The
most serious casualty was Pvt. James Hamlin, a machine gunner who took shrapnel
in the shoulder and arm. The wounded men were in a lot of pain but the Company
had no medics nor morphine. All anyone could do was apply sulfa powder and
bandages from the first aid packets and hope for early evacuation. The sulfa may
have helped prevent infection but it did nothing to ease the pain.
Meanwhile, Lt. Doenges took the First Platoon west up the lower slope of a
mountain designated as "Hill 403." A machine gun squad and a mortar squad from
the Weapons Platoon accompanied them. The terrain was rocky, heavily forested
and blanketed with a foot of snow. Pfc Dave Pierotti, the first scout, stayed between
fifty and one hundred yards ahead of the Platoon. They encountered no enemy until
they reached a clearing at the top of a rise where the slope leveled out. The scouts
135
reported fresh boot prints in the snow, but they neither saw nor heard any enemy
soldiers but they knew that they were there. Brewer told the men to spread out and
take cover while the scouts reconnoitered the area. Armstrong circled behind the
clearing and discovered a machine gun position directly in the path of the platoon.
It was a perfect setup for an ambush. He fired all eight rounds at the gunners then
returned to the patrol. The First Squad, led by S/Sgt. Leon Uczynski, followed
Armstrong's foot tracks to the enemy machine gun site, where they found two dead
and two wounded Germans. They also discovered sixteen partially dug foxholes,
packs, helmets, rifles and belts. Some Germans tried to reclaim their positions and
arms, but they were taken by surprise when Doenges' men attacked from the front and
the right flank. That persuaded all but three who were captured, to beat a hasty
retreat back into the hills.
The Platoon cautiously moved forward when suddenly the men came under
intense rifle and machine gun fire. They faced a counterattack by at least a company
of enemy troops. The German soldiers came darting through the trees, from behind
boulders, and around snowdrifts. They came from everywhere. The men took cover
wherever they could find it. They fired at the oncoming enemy from behind rocks,
logs, trees, in holes and in depressions in the ground. Because it was fruitless for one
platoon to continue the probing action against such odds, Lt. Doenges ordered the
men to fall back.
Sgt. Slover, while leading a squad up Hill 403 on the right flank of the First
Platoon, went over a ridge and started down the forward slope. At that point he
encountered more Germans than he ever cared to see. As the Germans counterattacked with small arms and automatic weapons, Slover got the word from Lt.
Doenges to withdraw. He ordered his men to move back and take cover on the
reverse slope of the hill while he kept the enemy occupied. While firing at the enemy
and getting his men over the crest of the hill, he suddenly found that he and his BAR
Man, Jimmy Piper, were alone and pinned down. Each took his turn firing and
falling back until both Slover and Piper were back on the reverse slope with the rest
of the squad. Piper made it back a little bruised but a German rifleman got Slover in
the left arm and put him out of action. All he had to say in his even tempered mild
mannered way was: "that damned German must have been a lousy shot to only hit
me in the arm." Radioman Pfc James Blume was behind the prisoners coming off the
hill and was killed by a potato masher that exploded at his feet. Not one German
prisoner was injured by that blast. As the First Platoon was withdrawing down the
lower slope of Hill 403, the Germans brought in their artillery. Shells were bursting
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everywhere, in the air and on the ground. The Germans enjoyed excellent support
from their artillery batteries, which displayed fantastic accuracy in laying in shells
that exploded directly over the heads of the GIs and claimed more casualties. There
was no way to take cover from the tree bursts that came directly down and could
reach to the bottoms of any hole or depression. Shrapnel from one tree burst struck
the Weapons Platoon Sergeant, S/Sgt. Russell Causey, cutting through his boot and
into his foot. Sgt. Randal McGuire, one of Causey's Mortar Squad Leaders was also
wounded in the barrage. He was unconscious when he was taken from Hill 403, and
did not wake up until the next day when he was in a 179th Infantry Aid Station. The
barrage followed the men most of the way down the hill to the Company perimeter.
When they were down from Hill 403, the men were relieved to find that the German
shells were not hitting the area of the forward CP.
The GIs were not up against a small group of weary, hungry Wehrmacht,
willing to surrender but, once again, a force much larger than S-2 led them to believe.
Company A could ill afford to lose many more men and remain an effective fighting
unit. The men also grew increasingly concerned that they were going to have one hell
of a time ever getting their wounded men out of those mountains. Clearly the
Germans were not going to give up any more real estate without extracting a heavy
price in American blood. "Why in the hell?" they asked, "were those damned
godforsaken mountains so all important to lose so many lives over?" As indicated
earlier, the men on the firing line were not privy to the “big picture” nor the reasons
why.
********************
Earlier in the day, when "Red" Shelander's patrol returned from Obermuhlthal
with the ammunition and rations, he and his men hoped that they could grab a little
rest at the forward CP. They were dead tired after their long overnight ordeal in the
mountains. They were only back about a half hour when Lt. Arnest decided to send
another patrol to Obermuhlthal for more ammunition and rations. Sgt. Francis
"Andy" Devine was chosen to lead the patrol and Lowry was sent as the Scout
because he had been through the mountains and probably knew the way better than
anyone else. Lowry guided that six-man patrol down the mountain, then across the
snow covered valley, following the same trail in the snow that he made earlier that
morning. The patrol crossed the valley as fast as they could move through the foot
or more of snow, then climbed up on the roadbed and got next to the steep bank
where they would be out of sight of the enemy in the mountains. The enemy had
137
plenty of time to establish a road block since Shelander’s patrol got through earlier;
however, they encountered neither road blocks nor mines.
Devine’s patrol made its way to Obermuhlthal and to the Battalion CP where
the men drew as much ammunition, grenades and rations as they could carry. At
Company A’s CP, S/Sgt. Pupinski had a pleasant surprise awaiting them. He had
prepared a hot meal for the Company and had four huge cooking kettles ready to go.
One contained creamed turkey, another beets, another toast and one was filled with
hot coffee. All the men had to do was get the chow up to the Company. Sgt. Skopp,
the 1st Cook, rounded up a few men including Pfc John Welte and his jeep. The
kettles of chow and the ammunition were loaded on the jeep and trailer and the small
group got on it's way. The scout led off and remained about a hundred yards ahead
of the men and the jeep. They slowly and cautiously went along the winding road to
a point four hundred yards from where they would have to cross the valley. That was
as far as Welte dared take the jeep and trailer. From there on, the road was exposed
to possible enemy positions and the men did not want to become targets any sooner
than necessary. The fact that they made it down to the CP without being detected,
was no assurance that they could make it back. Lowry calculated that if they stayed
on the right side of the road near the mountain, they could make it to the crossing
point without being seen. There was no likelihood that the jeep could cross the
valley in the deep snow without getting hung up on rocks or getting stuck in a snow
drift, so there was no point in bringing it any further. The jeeps were damn good
little vehicles and could traverse some really rugged terrain, but that valley could
have been too much. If they were to get stuck or hung up out there in the open, the
Germans would have a field day blowing it and everyone around it to hell.
With dozens of bandoleers and bags of grenades hung over their shoulders,
each man grabbed a kettle handle and the group moved up the road. When they
reached the point where they were to cross the valley, the men quickly got off the
road and climbed down from the road bed. When everyone was off the road, they
started to cross the valley. Lowry and Scopp, carrying a kettle of beets, led the way.
Sgt. Devine remained at the rear of the column to keep the men moving. To make
the going less difficult through the deep snow, Lowry followed the same tracks that
he and others had used twice before. Trying to cross the five-hundred yards in a foot
of snow, loaded down with bandoleers, grenades and chow, took every ounce of
strength that the men had. They slipped and stumbled in the deep snow, and it
seemed as though they would never make it to the other side without spilling their
precious loads. They thought they had it made as they crossed a small stream more
138
than half way across the valley. Suddenly the Germans in the mountains to their right
rear began firing at them with rifles and machine guns. There was no protective
cover in the open field and the men were too loaded down with ammunition, supplies
and chow, to use their weapons. They had no choice but to keep plodding forward
as fast as they were able. To lie down in the snow would only make them stationary
targets and a shooting gallery for the enemy. Their only other option was to abandon
their loads and make a run for it, but somehow that alternative was never considered.
Every time that someone slowed or stopped, Devine or Lowry shouted: "Get the lead
out of your ass and keep going; we don't want to die before chow!" They knew that
the Germans had artillery in the hills and would soon be using it. At first they
received only rifle and machine gun fire, which fortunately was not very accurate at
that great distance. But it was only a matter of minutes before the artillery shells
came crashing in, making black craters in the snow while machine gun tracers were
everywhere.
Soon they heard machine gun fire from their front but it was friendly fire as
Lt. Jenkins' Weapons Platoon had gone into action. S/Sgt. Jud Harmon, the MG
Section Leader, had both of his light machine guns firing at the Nazi positions on the
other side of the valley. Shelander and Haller with a detail from the Second Platoon
were also laying down rifle and BAR fire at the enemy across the valley. Skopp and
Lowry were carrying a large kettle of beats and each time they stumbled, beat juice
spilled and left red stains in the snow that looked like blood. They left a trail of red
stains half way across the valley. It finally occurred to them that they could lighten
their load if they drained the liquid from the kettle. When some men further behind
them saw the red stains in the snow, they were sure that somebody up ahead was hit
and losing a lot of blood. That served to unnerve them but good. What seemed like
an eternity, the totally exhausted GIs, amid a hail of machine gun fire and artillery
bursts, finally made it across the great white expanse.
As they approached the edge of the woods and started up the rocky embankment, they saw Lt. Jenkins standing near a large boulder, waving his carbine. He was
laughing so hard that his helmet fell off and rolled down the hill into the snow, rocks
and brush. Skopp, who was under fire for the first time, demanded to know: "What
the hell was so damned funny?" The lieutenant gesturing with his thumb and finger
spread about four inches apart yelled back: "You, your face is as white as the snow;
what are you scared of? They're missing you by this much!” At that point in time
Scopp failed to see any humor in the lieutenant's remarks, but it did bring on a few
chuckles from the guys on the hill. It was the first laugh they had in a week. Most
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of the tracers went a little higher, perhaps about two or three feet over their heads but
that was damn close enough. In the confusion and gunfire that took place, Lt.
Jenkins did not retrieve his helmet. After the men with their ammo and chow reached
cover in the forest, the German fire subsided. The men safely crossed the valley
through a rain of lead and shrapnel without losing any food or ammunition, but Sgt.
"Andy" Devine got a nasty shrapnel wound in the shoulder and had to be evacuated
that night.
At long last, it was chow time for the weary, battle-torn, famished company.
After several days of confusion and combat, many men lost their mess gear and had
to share with others. Some merely scooped the creamed turkey over the dry hard
toast and ate it in their hands. Others piled the beets on top of the toast and turkey
and tackled it that way. Some men tried to think of that meal of creamed turkey as
their belated Christmas dinner. The food had been off the field stoves for over two
hours and was barely warm, but the men thought that it was great in that sub-zero
weather. The coffee was cold but no one complained. It beat the hell out of frozen
C rations and eating snow for liquid. There was more than enough chow, but
somehow the men were unable to eat as much as they thought they could. They all
surmised that their stomachs had shrunk from the lack of regular meals and from the
frequent attacks of dysentery. It was not until most of the men had helped themselves
to the food, that Armstrong discovered bullet holes in two kettles, including the one
with the beets. That discovery again caused the blood to drain from Scopp's face.
After dark, Scopp, his crew and the dozen wounded men, including Devine,
Causey, Slover, McGuire and Hamlin, returned to the rear CP. Silently, they made
their way out by following the same route as they were led in, but without encountering enemy fire. Before leaving, Sgt. Slover took off his helmet and gave it to Lt.
Jenkins saying "Here, take this and hang on to it, I won't need it anymore and I'm
sure you will."
Under a tight ring of security, the men spent the remainder of the evening
caring for their near frozen feet, cleaning their weapons, improving their positions,
pulling sentry duty, and trying to stay as warm as they could by huddling together.
In that below zero temperature, one had to constantly keep moving his feet and limbs
and rubbing his hands to prevent frostbite and freezing. That precluded everyone
from getting any real sleep and left the men more exhausted than ever. No one could
sleep much more than an hour at a time for fear of freezing to death. During the
night they also had to be on constant alert for enemy patrols. They definitely did not
140
want a repeat of Clements' experience of that morning, as everyone was aware that
the Company was surrounded by enemy.
********************
Earlier that day, the men belatedly learned from Scopp of the outrageous Nazi
atrocity that took place at Malmady, Belgium. There, SS guards marched more than
a hundred unarmed GI prisoners to a clearing in the forest and machine-gunned them
to death in cold blood. While the men stood in the clearing, thinking that they were
going to be transported to a POW camp, the Nazi SS deliberately slaughtered them
with close range machine gun fire. It was pure calculated, unadulterated murder, not
the result of action in the heat of battle. Some Americans attempted to run for cover
in the forest, some fell and attempted to play dead, but nearly all were slain. Those
who were not killed outright were systematically shot to death where they lay
wounded in the snow. Miraculously, a few played dead and escaped through the
forest and made their way to American lines to tell the story. In no time at all, word
spread all over the Western Front about the appalling massacre at Malmady. It was
a terrible tragedy for the American prisoners, and stupid savagery on the part of the
Nazis. Since the GIs at the front had no way of knowing whether that incident was
an isolated occurrence or was a routine practice of the SS, no American soldier was
going to surrender while he was still able to draw a breath. News of the slaughter
made the men madder than hell and more determined than ever to fight all the harder
to destroy the enemy. Many that heard about the executions avowed that they would
die fighting before they would let the Germans take them as prisoners. They swore
that if they were going to die, they would take as many Germans with them as
possible, and not die at the hands of Nazi executioners. Fortunately, there were no
other reports of such incidents involving American prisoners, but nevertheless the
damage was done and the event was not forgotten, even to the end of the war.
********************
The morning of January 11, as dawn came through the fog and snow flurries,
the Company with fixed bayonets prepared to resume its attack on Hill 403. Lt.
Doenges’ First Platoon and T/Sgt Wagger’s Third Platoon formed a skirmish line and
the few remaining men of the Second Platoon followed in support. Following the
same procedure as the day before, one machine gun squad and one mortar squad was
attached to each of the forward platoons. The going was incredibly rough on the
slick snow covered slope and often a man would lose his footing and stumble.
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Frequently, it was necessary to pull oneself up by clinging to pine boughs and
protruding rocks. When the fog cleared and the snow flurries stopped that morning,
it seemed to the men that the frigid weather was more severe than ever. It was later
reported by Donald C. Pence in Ordeal in the Vosges that the temperature that day,
January 11, was between -13 and -6 degrees Fahrenheit.
As the scouts approached the clearing where the firefight took place the day
before, the First and Third Platoons encountered intense automatic weapon fire and
became locked in a bloody stalemate. The First Squad was pinned down and could
not move without attracting the attention of the enemy who practically had them in
their sights. It was then that the Germans threw in the artillery barrage with deadly
accuracy and wiped out most of the men in the squad. Laylen McGriff, Connon
Clements and several others were wounded or killed. Lloyd Patterson was
unscratched because he was pinned down too far forward for the German shell bursts
to get him, he was in a depression where the enemy machine gun could not reach
him, and as he put it "saved by the fact that I am not an atheist." Simultaneously,
barrages started striking the treetops behind the Company, and slowly moved up to
where the men were deployed. To deliver artillery fire with such deadly accuracy,
the German FO (forward artillery observer) had to be looking down the throats of
the advancing GIs. As Lloyd Patterson later commented: "The men of Company A
were soon convinced that German gunners could literally shoot the buttons off a
man’s jacket." The men took cover behind rocks and trees, which provided some
protection from the machine gun and small arms fire but afforded no protection from
the deadly tree bursts. Lt. Arnest ordered both platoons to attack and drive the
Germans back so that they could move forward enough to get out from under the
bursting artillery shells. As they pressed forward, the casualties mounted rapidly.
Wounded and dead were everywhere. Then he ordered the Second Platoon to swing
around and hit the enemy from the right flank.
By then, the Second Platoon had little more than the strength of a squad. The
only men that remained were M/Sgt. Wait, S/Sgt. Shelander, Sgt. Haller, Frank
Lowry, Bryan Ledoux, Don Dubois, Gene Bambrick, Ed Skalitzsky, Otis Brown,
Harold Jaros, George Sheeley, Steve Yannias and a few others, no more than fifteen
in all. The others were dead, wounded or missing. The platoon sergeant was ineffective and suffering from battle fatigue so the responsibility of leading the Platoon
passed to M/Sgt. Neal Waite. Waite had not been with the Company long and had
very little training in infantry tactics but he was a good leader and commanded
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respect. He sought out and listened to the advice of the other sergeants who were his
junior. That day in Les Vosges he relied heavily on Shelander.
Waite sent Lowry forward to reconnoiter the area, then ordered the Second
Platoon to follow the scout up the hill around the right flank of the Company. They
then cut sharply left toward the sound of the rapid firing enemy machine gun. They
crawled through the rocks and snow until the scout was within forty yards of the
German positions. He signaled M/Sgt. Waite who then brought the Second Platoon
up on line with the scout. While the German gunners were occupied keeping the
First and Third Platoons pinned down, Waite's men attacked and knocked out the first
machine gun, then moved closer to the other enemy positions. The Germans
apparently were not expecting nor were they prepared to be hit from the flank and
were obviously taken by surprise when the Second Platoon hit them hard with rifle
fire and grenades. The First and Third Platoons immediately pressed ahead and
overran the German positions. Company A was finally successful in driving the
Germans back and capturing its objective, Hill 403. As the troops moved forward
on Hill 403, they got out from under the artillery fire that was then exploding
harmlessly on the hill to their rear.
In taking Hill 403, the men of Company A captured several more prisoners.
On interrogating them, the men learned a little about the enemy troops that made up
their opposition. They were facing formations of their foes at Wingen, the 6th SS
Mountain Division, but mostly Wehrmacht troops (Regular German Army)of the
256th Volks-Grenadier Division. Some Wehrmacht prisoners were quick to tell their
captors that they were not Nazis nor Germans. Some claimed to be Polish who were
conscripted into the German Army and forced to fight for Hitler's Third Reich. The
latter appeared relieved to be out of the war and did not attempt to escape. Nevertheless, immediately before their capture they were armed, wore German uniforms and
shot at American GIs. Consequently they were given the same treatment that was
given to all other German prisoners.
With the capture of Hill 403, the Company prepared to move on to its next
objective, Hill 358, which was further into the mountains. Lt. Arnest assembled the
platoon leaders and senior NCOs (Lt. Doenges, Lt. Jenkins, M/Sgt. Neal Waite,
T/Sgt. Harold Wagger, S/Sgt. Dan Jury, S/Sgt Jud Harmon and S/Sgt Red Shelander)
and showed them a map of the area. He pointed out what he thought was the location
of Company A and where he thought the Germans would make a stand on Hill 358.
He told them that he would call for artillery preparation before they jumped off and
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showed them on the map where he would direct the fire, then he called the
coordinates to Battalion. There was no Field Artillery FO on the mountain to verify
the coordinates and call for two or three rounds before firing for effect. That was
probably due to Task Force Herren not having its own artillery and having to depend
on the 45th Infantry Division for artillery support. In a very few moments incoming
mail descended on Company A, and sent everybody scrambling for cover. At first
the men thought that they were receiving German 88s, but by then the platoon leaders
knew better. It was a total SNAFU. The shelling was so accurate that no one could
hear the projectiles coming before they burst in the trees. It took several minutes for
Lt. Arnest to call off the artillery that had successfully zeroed in on the wrong
mountain, but not before more Company A men were wounded by the "friendly fire."
Everyone that was able, got the hell out of there and started toward the Company's
next objective -- Hill 358. The attack got underway sooner than Lt. Arnest had
expected and without artillery preparation. (In a letter to the author forty-five years
later Dan Jury stated that at the time he had some second thoughts about the
coordinates that were used by Arnest and he thought maybe he was directing the
artillery to the wrong hill.) To misread a topographical map of an area where there
were no identifiable terrain features nor landmarks was very easy to do.
The Company formed a skirmish line and started to move up the slope of the
hill. All three rifle platoons were committed to the attack. The Second Platoon was
on the right, the First Platoon was in the center and the Third Platoon was on the left.
The Weapons Platoon continued to support the rifle platoons, while one mortar squad
provided security at the Company CP. Forward scouts, Lowry, Leija and Pierotti,
formed the points about fifty yards in front of the Company. The terrain was so
rugged and rocky that the squad leaders had a difficult time keeping in visual contact
with the scouts. Silence was extremely important, so communication between the
scouts and squad leaders was entirely by hand and arm signals. About half a mile up
the slope of Hill 358, Pierotti signaled that German troops were deployed to his
immediate front. They were wearing white parkas, which again made them difficult
to see. Before the lead squads were in a position to attack, enemy machine gunners
and riflemen opened fire. The men encountered well placed German machine gun
positions that kept the Company from advancing any further. Then came the shelling
from the familiar enemy artillery. Shells exploded everywhere except on the German
positions. With terrifying accuracy enemy 88s began to cut the Company to pieces.
Armstrong saw one of his riflemen, Laylen McGriff hit by a piece of shrapnel. He
told McGriff to get started toward the CP. If he could not make it alone, someone
would be along to help him.
144
Sgt. Haller recalled that he was ordered to bring up the rear of the Second
Platoon. "We were walking through snow and heavy underbrush when a German
machine gun suddenly opened fire. Everyone hit the ground and then the 88s started
coming in. I could see the shrapnel flying all around me, cutting branches and trees
and could hear people calling for help. When I saw the wounded trying to make their
way back down the hill to the forward CP, I noticed Pfc Dave Pierotti (First Platoon
Scout) staggering toward me. He had been hit with shrapnel in the jaw. I took him
to the bottom of the hill and started to dress his wound. He was wearing a knitted
hood cap and his jaw was one mass of blood, flesh, bones and wool kiting. I put
some sulfa powder on the wound and bandaged him up the best I could, then left him
with the other wounded men."
The casualties mounted rapidly, and among them was the Company
Commander. Lt. Arnest was hit by shrapnel and badly wounded in the face, stomach
and lower legs. He told Lt. Doenges, one of the two remaining officers, to take
command of the Company. Sgt. Verlin Kirkham took a direct hit from an eightyeight and was blown to pieces.
After about fifteen minutes, the artillery barrage stopped and the Germans
initiated a counterattack against the Second Platoon on the right flank of the
Company. Shrapnel hit T/Sgt. Galloway in the back and stomach and made horrible
wounds. Pfc Ledoux went over to help him, but there was nothing that he could do.
Galloway was in shock, bleeding profusely and dying. Before he passed out, he
started crying and begged the men not to leave him. In a very few minutes he was
dead. M/Sgt. Waite and Ledoux went forward with a BAR to attempt to knock out
a machine gun position that had stopped the Second Platoon and was also holding up
the advance of the entire Company. The machine gun had an excellent field of fire
across a large snow covered meadow and it kept everyone in its range pinned down.
Some Second Platoon men were attempting to keep the machine gunner's attention
while Waite and Ledoux crawled toward the emplacement. When they got about as
close to the German machine gun as they could without giving away their position,
Waite said “Everything copasetic? Let em have it!” The BAR was frozen and would
not fire then Waite shouted, "Let's get the hell out of here." Ledoux turned around
to follow the sergeant only to find him mortally wounded. In short dashes through
the snow, he made it back to where his platoon was deployed and tried desperately
to get his BAR to function. He reported to Shelander that Waite was dead.
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After Waite was hit,
"Red" Shelander took charge of
the Second Platoon. It was actually no longer a platoon as there
were not enough men to make up
a squad. Those remaining Second Platoon men continued to
exchange fire with the hostile
machine gun and temporarily
repelled the enemy counterattack. Pfc Steve Yannias was
wounded and Shelander told
him to follow the other wounded
down the hill to the CP.
Sheeley and Brown were both
wounded in the savage barrage,
and "Red" Shelander told them
that if they could walk or crawl
to get the hell down the hill to
the forward CP. Sheeley had a
shrapnel wound in the shoulder
and while he was crawling away,
he was wounded again in the left
thigh. To compound their prob“4 Jerry came half way up the hill ...pretending (acting) like they going to
lems, the men were running low
surrender and then they start firing. . . . .you dirty @#$%&@#$” ( Sketch by
Pfc Eddie Tsukimura)
on ammunition. There was no
more firing a clip of eight shells
at a time or unloading a rifle at anything that moved. For the most part, the men
started to fire only when they had a clear target in view.
When Lt. Arnest finally made radio contact with Battalion Headquarters, he
was advised that the Third Battalion was committed to the First Battalion sector, with
the First Battalion reverting to regimental reserve. At that point in time the company
radio man was hit by automatic weapons fire. The projectile went through his chest
and the radio, killing him instantly and destroying the radio. At that juncture, Lt.
Arnest ordered Lt. Doenges to disengage the Company from the enemy, and get the
able-bodied men and the walking wounded off the mountain and rendevous at the
rear CP in Obermuhlthal. The survivors and the walking wounded were reluctant to
146
leave the more seriously wounded behind, but they had no choice. Arnest ordered
them to get the hell out or they would either die or become wounded prisoners on that
sub zero mountain. Some promised to return or send back help but that was never
possible. Even those who were not wounded were so exhausted and cold that it was
amazing that they could even walk, let alone assist their wounded buddies. As some
men were leaving the hill, through the din and smoke, they could hear Lt. Arnest's
carbine firing, then suddenly it was silent. Most of the men who were lucky enough
to come down from hills 403 and 358 thought that the CO was dead, though the
Army officially listed him as missing in action. After the war was over the survivors
of Company A were happy to learn that Lt. Arnest was alive. He was seriously
wounded and captured on Hill 358, taken to a German aid station, and survived.
Several months later he was liberated, by other American troops, from a POW camp
at Limberg, Germany.
In some instances, trying to disengage from the enemy on Hill 358 was nearly
impossible. S/Sgt. Wesley Nelker, a Third Platoon squad leader was wounded and
turned the remaining men in his squad over to Jury. Nelker took off crawling down
the hill while Jury, Pfc Ells "Kentucky" Smith, and Pfc Elbert Arter jumped into a
nearby crater. The hole was shallow and it afforded very little cover but it was better
than no cover at all. A German soldier was laying in the woods a few yards away and
indicated that he was wounded and wanted to surrender. When Jury told him in
German to throw out his rifle and put his hands up, he suddenly rolled over and fired
several rounds point blank at the three GIs. All three instantly opened fire and killed
the German before he could fire another shot. One of the enemy rounds struck a pair
of wire cutters Jury was wearing on his cartridge belt and left a piece of metal in his
leg and bruised his hip. The wire cutters saved him from being one more serious
casualty, though he was a little sore and had a stiff hip for a few days. About that
time all hell broke loose and for the first time Jury became aware that Lt. Arnest
ordered the Company to fall back from the forward positions. Nearly everyone was
getting wounded or killed. Sheeley came down the hill badly wounded and Jury
pulled him into the hole. Pfc Robert Brenner and Cpl. Alan Lightner were laying in
the snow near the crater. Brenner was wounded in the shoulder and foot, and
Lightner was hit in the neck and died on that miserable, battle-scarred, blood stained,
snow-covered mountain. Brenner was officially listed as missing in action but
somehow survived. He was taken prisoner and liberated several months later at
Stalag IX-B at Limberg, Germany.
147
The four GIs wondered if or how they were ever going to get out of that hole
and make their way back to the CP. "Kentucky" Smith said, "Chief, What are we
going to do? I'll never surrender." Jury responded, "Nor will I." Then Jury came up
with an idea. He had noticed that there was always a lull in the machine gun firing
when the artillery shells came in, so he told the men to be ready to make a run for it
when the next artillery barrage starts. He figured that they had a better chance with
the shell blasts than against the machine gun, though neither option was a very good.
A few moments later when the next barrage came in, Jury grabbed Sheeley and made
a run for it and the others followed and moved as fast as they could. Just as they
heard the machine gun start to fire again, they hit the ground behind some trees.
After another barrage and another dash, they made it to the top of the ridge and off
the forward slope of the hill. As they went over the crest, Arter was hit by the
machine gunner. A single bullet struck him in the hip and he was in intense pain, but
they kept on going. Once on the reverse slope of the hill, where they were out of the
German's sights, they came upon S/Sgt. Fred Collins who had a flesh wound in the
leg and could barely walk. Jury, himself wounded, helped Sheeley down the hill to
the forward CP, while "Kentucky" Smith helped the others. "Kentucky" Smith was
the only man in the group who was not wounded.
The entire area where Company A engaged the enemy on Hill 403 and on the
slope of Hill 358 was a scene of total devastation. The tree bursts from the German
and the American artillery littered the snow covered hills of Les Vosges with broken
branches, splintered timber and pine boughs. Trees were scarred and their bark torn
off from artillery bursts, machine gun, and other small arms fire. The blanket of
snow that had covered the trees and ground was no longer white. It was stained with
blood, dirt, rocks and black gun powder. The acrid stench of stale burnt gunpowder
and the smell of death that hung in the forest permeated the air. The area was littered
with bodies, both American and German, parts of bodies, the severely wounded and
the dying. Piercing the air through the din and smoke of the battlefield was heard the
blood curdling cries of the wounded “HELP!” “AID MAN!” “DON'T LEAVE
ME!” “HELP ME!” “I'M DYING!” “I’M HURT!” “HELP!” “GOD, GET US
OUT OF HERE!”
Many years after the war, Pfc Joseph Ciccarello, a Second Platoon Rifleman
recalled the events of January 11, 1945: "What I remember of that day was that our
platoon was attacking what we thought were small pockets of resistance. I recall
going up a hill and suddenly being fired at by mortar and machine gun fire. The
Germans had zeroed in on our unit and the command came to us to withdraw back
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to the Company CP. As I started back down the hill I came across Sgts. Waite and
Galloway who were seriously wounded. Sgt. Waite was calling for water and I went
to him and found that he had a huge stomach wound. I knew I couldn't give him
water but I remembered that as I was coming down the hill I had seen a blanket on
the ground. All I wanted to do was cover him and his wound. I got to the blanket
(the firing had stopped by then) and bent down to pick it up when I heard someone
say something. When I looked up I was staring into the muzzle of a German rifle and
that was my undoing. I was marched back to the enemy lines where I realized that
the 'small pockets of resistance' turned out to be an army of German infantry and
artillery." After Ciccarello was captured, he was taken to Stalag IX-B at Bad Orb,
Germany (about 32 miles east of Frankfurt).
Pfc Cameron Boyd, a Fourth Platoon Mortar Gunner, was near the place
where Waite was gunned down. He and Pvt. James Etherington were helping a
wounded buddy when he heard someone hollering for help. Nearly fifty years later
Boyd recalled: "I made a decision on the morning of January 11, 1945, to check on
someone who was hollering for help. Private Etherington was there with a wounded
buddy of his. I went over to the person doing the hollering. It was Sgt. Neal Waite.
Another GI came along. I don't know his name but he spoke Dutch. We came face
to face with five German soldiers. The other GI talked to the Germans. While we
were standing there, Lt. Jenkins took a shot at them from cover. When things quieted
down, Lt. Jenkins had disappeared. They took myself and Sgt. Waite with one guard.
We half carried Sgt. Waite and ended up carrying him at least two miles behind
German lines. There I put him in a wagon, covered his lower part with a blanket,
gave him a pack of cigarettes and some matches and said good-by to him. He was
wounded in the stomach and some of his small intestines were hanging out, but he
seemed cheerful. And that's the last I saw of him" (Cameron Boyd was initially
reported as killed in action, but was after the war it was found out that he was
captured on Hill 358 and taken to Stalag IX-B at Bad Orb, Germany.)
Who were the "WALKING WOUNDED?" What did Lt. Arnest mean when
he ordered the men to take the “walking wounded” and get the hell off the mountain?
The men interpreted “walking wounded” to mean anyone that they could possibly
help, carry or drag out of the mountains. A big problem was that there were many
more wounded than not wounded, and as a result some were left with Lt. Arnest.
Pfc Eddie Tsukimura recalled: "I remember huffing and puffing through the
woods covered with snow and climbing up through the heavy forest. Just before we
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came to a clearing in front of where the enemy was dug in, I saw a flare go up into
the sky. We no sooner caught our breath when whistling 88s started to burst
overhead -- tree bursts. Branches and hunks of shrapnel hit the snow while the
enemy opened fire from across the clearing. We hit the ground and I got a mouth full
of snow and pine needles. Seems like forever. I saw a guy sitting up on my left with
his bloody jaw hanging down. Sgt. Galloway was in front of me on the ground and
his butt was blown up. Jerry kept on firing on us while the whistling 88s kept on
bursting on our left, right, front, rear and right into us. I was flat on the snow
hanging on to my helmet and kept calling for 'Sallie.' Then I felt my leg burn --- It
felt like my right leg was blown off."
Dick Armstrong started to make his way down the hill when he met one of his
squad leaders, S/Sgt. Leon Uczynski, who had a piece of shrapnel in his right leg.
Armstrong got him on his feet and helped him hobble down the hill. They passed
Piper who was unable to walk and was crawling. Armstrong told Piper that he would
return for him, but that was never to be. They passed other buddies whom he would
have liked to help but could not. Everyone who was not seriously wounded was in
the same predicament and was forced to make some very difficult decisions
concerning who to help and who to leave.
A half hour earlier, Piper was in the First Platoon sector firing his BAR at a
German machine gun position. When he was nearly out of ammunition he discovered
that he was apparently the only GI left in the area. All he could see was dead and
wounded GIs behind him and German helmets in front. He kept firing and seeking
cover behind stumps, rocks and fallen timber as he withdrew and tried to locate his
platoon. He came across Eddie Tsukimura who had been hit on the left thigh and
right knee. He yelled "Hey Eddie, lets get out of here!" but Tsukimura told him that
he couldn't go because he was hit. Piper picked him up and carried him a short
distance then they were knocked down by a tree burst. A piece of shrapnel severely
wounded Piper's right knee and Tsukimura was hit again, this time in the rear end.
Two GIs saw the men in trouble went over to help. There was no way that they could
carry both wounded men, so Piper told them to take Tsukimura as he was wounded
in both legs. They put some sulfa and a bandage on Piper's knee and left with
Tsukimura, thinking that some one else would come by and help him. In spite of the
painful shattered knee that prevented him from standing or walking, he kept firing
at the enemy until he was out of ammunition. Since he could not stand or walk, he
started to crawl down the mountainside. Three days later, nearly frozen and starved,
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more dead than alive, Jimmy Piper was found by some GIs from another outfit and
taken to an aid station.
As the few remaining men of the Second Platoon went down the slope from
Hill 358 and approached Hill 403, they picked up the twelve German prisoners whom
they captured earlier that day. With the prisoners and wounded, they half walked and
half slid down the mountain through one artillery barrage after another. A prisoner,
who claimed to be Polish, reached into his pack and took out a small loaf of black
bread. As he offered a piece of it to one of the GIs, his arm caught a snow laden
pine bough that whipped back and hit "Red" Shelander in the face. "Red's" nerves
were more than a little frayed and he reacted to that gesture and with one stroke of
his rifle butt in the German's back, which sent him sliding down the hill. He got up
unharmed and fell back into ranks with the rest of the prisoners just as an artillery
shell burst in the trees above. A fragment of shrapnel caught Jim Skalitzky in the
upper back, knocking him off his feet. The shrapnel cut through his overcoat, field
jacket, sweater, shirt and wool undershirt and gave him a bad bruise but did not break
the skin. He had a sore shoulder for a few days.
Earlier, when Doenges ordered the withdrawal from Hill 358, he told the men
to rendevous at the forward CP where the Fourth Platoon was manning the perimeter
defense. The fatigued and hurting GIs straggled and limped into the area a few at a
time. Some were delayed because they were engaged in firefights and some were
pinned down. Disengaging from the enemy in battle was a complicated maneuver.
It had to be done in such a way so as to prevent the enemy from becoming aware that
a "tactical withdrawal" was taking place and that took time. After waiting some two
hours at the forward CP, Lt. Doenges concluded that everyone who was going to
make it down from the hills had done so. Knowing that the Company was
surrounded, he took a few moments to brief his one officer and the NCOs as to his
plan for withdrawal. He chose to use the same route that was used to bring in the
chow and ammunition the day before. It was the shortest and most direct route to
Obermuhlthal. If the Company were successful in getting across the open valley to
the road on the other side, the rest of the way would be less difficult on the wounded.
His plan of withdrawal was for one scout to lead off, followed by the prisoners and
two guards, the three rifle platoons, and finally the weapons platoon would form the
rear guard. He told the men to get across the valley as quickly as possible, climb up
on the road and get in a single file close to the shelter of the mountain. With a little
luck, they would make it across to the other side without being spotted by the
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Germans who were dug in on the mountain across the valley. If discovered,
hopefully the enemy would not fire if the German prisoners were in front.
When the Company was ready to move out, Doenges told Lowry to take the
point. The twelve prisoners were sent out next and were told to stay in two columns
ten meters behind the scout. They were also told what to do when they got to the
other side. Pvt. Joel Friedman and another rifleman were assigned to guard the
prisoners and were told to stay behind the Germans. The main body would follow
and the machine gun section stood by to lay down covering fire if needed.
In order to move as fast as possible, Lowry started out by following the tracks
in the snow that the men made the day before. It was easier and faster to follow a
trail partially compacted by their own foot traffic than to trod through a foot of snow.
Fortunately there was very little new snow from the flurries early that morning.
When he was about 150 yards into the valley, the enemy machine gun and rifle fire
commenced. It came at him from the same general area where the Germans attacked
his patrol the previous day. He had the advantage of seeing where the machine gun
tracers were coming from, whereas the day before they were shooting at his back. As
near as he could tell, there were two machine gun positions on the hill at eleven
o'clock some fifty feet above the road. In addition there was perhaps a squad of
enemy riflemen shooting from the hill. Tracers from the machine guns were coming
at him some ten feet above the ground as he attempted to run through the knee-deep
snow. From the rear came the sound of Sgt. Harmon's machine guns that were
responding to the enemy fire. The GI machine gun fire diverted some enemy
attention from Lowry, which undoubtedly prevented him from being hit. When the
tracers started getting too close for comfort, he hit the snow. He got up and made a
short dash, hit the snow again, made another short dash, hit the snow, and slipped
into the stream while attempting to jump across. Icy water seeped into his shoe pacs
and through the lower part of his water repellent trousers. He knew only too well that
the wet socks would have to come off at the first opportunity or his feet and lower
limbs would freeze. When he got up, he continued through the snow as fast as he
could move. Every minute or two, he hit the ground and rolled over a time or two
while he did a lot of praying. Each time, getting on his feet again was a greater
chore. Every bone in his body ached, he was cold, exhausted and dizzy from lack of
sleep.
He was so preoccupied with getting across the valley without being killed that
he nearly forgot about the prisoners behind him. Then the idea struck him that if he
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attempted to keep himself positioned between the enemy in the hills and the
prisoners, the Germans would not shoot in the direction their own men. He was dead
wrong. The machine gun and rifle fire kept coming and to Lowry's surprise the
German soldiers did not hesitate to fire at their own troops. Tracers kept coming at
him from the left front and his equipment got heavier and heavier. To lighten the
load, he attempted to undo and discard his cartridge belt, but his hands were too cold
and numb to perform the otherwise simple task. In the confusion that followed, the
prisoners broke from their column and scattered over the area. They were all around
him and a few had gotten out in front of him. The two guards were nowhere in sight.
They and the rest of the Company had been forced to turn back when the hostile fire
made it too perilous to continue across the valley. The wounded could never have
made it. He wondered what was in store for him if he lived to get across to the other
side. They would no doubt attempt to overpower him and either make him the
prisoner or kill him. Twelve to one were not very good odds, except that he had the
rifle.
When he reached the far side of the valley, he climbed over some large rocks
and got up on the road. He crossed the road and took shelter from the enemy fire by
getting close to the steep mountain. As the prisoners reached the roadway he used
arm gestures to get them to also climb up on the road. For a moment or two, he did
not really know for sure whether he was the prisoner or still the captor. He was
totally exhausted and was unable to tell whether he was shaking from the frigid
weather or from the prospect of being at the mercy of the twelve Germans. Each
deep breath seemed to burn all the way down to his lungs. If they received no help
from their kamerads on the hill, he hoped that he had the edge on them by having
eight rounds in his rifle. He also had one hand grenade left hanging on a near empty
bandoleer. He knew that he had to keep them all in front of him, and not allow any
to get behind him. With the news of the Malmady massacre still vividly in his
memory, Lowry had already determined that he would in no way let them take him
prisoner. To convince his prisoners that he was still in control, he removed his
bayonet from its scabbard and affixed it to his rifle, then attempted to fire a shot over
their heads. All he heard was a click and his heart sank. His rifle was jammed with
a ruptured cartridge in the chamber. That changed his odds but good. Fortunately,
the prisoners did not appear to notice the misfire, but climbed up on the road with
their hands clasped behind their heads and lined up next to the hill. They appeared
ready to follow orders and made no attempted to escape. In all the confusion, and
without Lowry being aware of it, three of their kamerads came out of the hills, quit
the war, and joined the prisoners. To his surprise and amazement, Lowry then had
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fifteen prisoners but started out with only twelve. He had no idea when or how the
added three slipped in. They must have somehow joined the group of prisoners
during the confusion that occurred when they were climbing up on the roadway. He
was about to dismiss the three new prisoners from his mind and concentrate on more
urgent matters when a startling thought occurred to him. “Those three guys hadn’t
been searched! What if they have concealed weapons? Which ones are the three
newcomers? The bastards all look alike!” Again his heart sank, but he did his best
to conceal his anxiety and carry on. By using arm signals and pointing with his rifle
and fixed bayonet, he got the prisoners to move down the road toward Obermuhlthal.
They remained in a single file and kept their hands clasped behind their heads. They
were smart enough to stay close to the embankment that protected them from the
German fields of fire.
Shortly before reaching Obermuhlthal, they rounded a bend in the road and
came upon a GI roadblock. The two soldiers on guard were more than a little
apprehensive when they saw the column of Germans coming around the bend and
had to be convinced that Lowry was not one of them in a GI uniform. Not knowing
the current sign or countersign did not help the situation. They suspected Nazi
treachery and kept him and the prisoners at a distance while one engaged in a
telephone conversation with their CP while giving him the third degree. Finally the
guards let him and the prisoners pass. The delay enabled Lowry to have sufficient
time to put on dry socks and get his rifle functioning properly. Nearly frozen, dead
tired, hungry, thirsty, and dirty, he finally arrived at Obermuhlthal with his fifteen
equally dirty prisoners. He turned them over to the first outfit that would take them.
He located the Battalion CP and reported in. The place was in chaos and no one
seemed to have a clear picture of what was going on up in the mountains.
Noticing that Lowry was exhausted and suffering from the cold, a sergeant
directed him to a house next to the aid station where several GIs were sitting around
massaging their bare feet. A medic was on hand helping the men and making sure
that none of them got near the stove which threw off very little heat. Near frozen or
frostbitten feet must be warmed up very slowly. It was extremely dangerous to
expose frostbitten feet to heat too rapidly. After about an hour and a half the medic
looked at his feet and told him to put on his dry socks and shoe pacs and to wait in
another building until he could rejoin his company. His trousers and long johns were
still a bit damp from falling in the creek but he was glad to get out of the place
because most of the guys there had feet in far worse shape than his. In the next
building a GI from Battalion Headquarters gave him all the C rations that he cared
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to eat and hot water for instant coffee. It was nearly six hours later when the first
men of the Company began to arrive from the forward CP.
********************
Earlier in the afternoon, when the enemy machine guns blocked the Company
from crossing the valley, Doenges selected an alternate route through the forest to the
east. That was a much longer and more torturous route, but it was their only
alternative. Harmon's machine gun section kept the Germans occupied while Lowry
and the prisoners went across the valley, then they provided the rear guard as the
Company took the alternate route. Some walking wounded were in no shape to make
the long hard hike through the mountains, but the alternative did not offer much hope
for survival. Every step was a painful one. Some men, because of the seriousness
of their wounds, required a great deal of assistance. One GI literally dragged Pfc
Tsukimura through the snow by his coat collar. Pfc Theo Renk died on the way from
what at first appeared to be a superficial wound. "Red" Shelander practically carried
him from the slope of Hill 358 until he died. Jury, Collins, "Kentucky" Smith,
Sheeley, and Arter stayed together until they reached the aid station in Obermuhlthal.
Of that little group, only “Kentucky” Smith escaped being wounded, but he was
totally beat and every bone in his body ached. The five managed to find an aid
station where they got patched up. A medic put a bandage and some sulfa powder
on Jury's hip, gave him a couple of APC tablets then released him to rejoin the
Company. Arter, Sheeley, and Collins were in very bad shape and were kept at the
aid station until they could be evacuated. When the Company left the forward CP,
Lt. Doenges tried to keep everyone together but that effort proved to be futile. Each
man or small group had to go at its own pace. It became impossible for the men to
keep in contact, and some succeeded in getting lost. Several walked the rest of the
day and all that night trying to find Obermuhlthal. One by one, utterly exhausted,
hungry, and some in great pain, the men got out of the desolate mountains and to the
rear CP. They straggled in the rest of that day, that night, and into the next day,
January 12.
Sometime after dark, Gene Bambrick became separated from the Company.
"The next morning, I was nowhere near the Company. In my vicinity, there were
about 40 men from a number of other units. They, too, had become separated from
their units. I did not recognize anyone. We made our presence known to a Captain.
The Captain told us to stack our arms. When we had done so, he said: ' Now you
have laid down your arms. You will be court-martialed.' I said: 'Nonsense, we were
155
ordered to stack our arms. We did so. That is not laying down our arms.' Talk of
court-martial was dropped. We were sorted out and transported to our various
units."
Near the Battalion CP, 1st/Sgt. Polacio was wounded by a shot through the
foot that presumably came from a sniper. He received what was called the "million
dollar wound" a few steps from an aid station. That was the last anyone in the
Company saw of Polacio.
As the wounded arrived at the rear CP, they were directed to the Battalion Aid
Station for immediate medical attention and were later evacuated to the rear. The
others found shelter in vacant houses where they heated C rations and tried to thaw
out their chilled bones. They were able to get a little rest, get their boots off, get the
blood circulating in their feet, and their weapons field stripped and cleaned. They
had an opportunity to wash up a little and shave, but no change of clothing was
available except the socks that they carried under their shirts.
The battle of Hills 403 and 358 was over for the men of Company A. Of the
187 men of the Company who landed in France less than a month before, a mere
TWENTY-SIX including walking wounded, came out of those mountains. The
others were dead, wounded, missing in action, or otherwise unaccounted for. Those
known to have been killed in that action were:
Pfc Connon U Clements, Pfc Vinson F Comer, T/Sgt. Oliver Galloway,
Sgt. Verlin P Kirkham, Pfc Joseph L Kufersin, Cpl. Alan W Lightner, Sgt.
Doloreo M Maldonado, Pvt. Theophil J Renk, Pfc Paul Robbins, 2nd Lt. Donald
A Schollander, and M/Sgt. Neal M Waite.
Many of the twenty-six that made it out of Les Vosges mountains were wounded and
did not fight again.
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10. LORRAINE
After dark on January 13, the Company was trucked a short distance from
Obermuhlthal to a sector of the MLR near the famed Maginot Line, and, as usual, no
one knew where they were going. When the few remaining GIs of Company A rode
away from that village in Les Vosges mountains, once again they harbored the hope
that they were going to the rear to get a little rest, a hot meal, a bath and some clean
clothes. They had not bathed nor had a change of clothing since they left the USS
West Point nearly a month before. After living like animals and fighting day and
night on the ground and in foxholes, they were a sorry lot that resembled Bill
Mauldin's grubby cartoon characters, "Willie" and g108 Besides being filthy, their
uniforms were ripped and torn and they must have stunk like barnyard animals.
The ride that night on the six-by-sixes was as cold and as miserable as any ride
the men experienced since arriving in France. The temperature was below zero and
the men were bruised, tired, stiff and cold. It was still dark when they arrived at their
destination and somehow it did not surprise them to learn that they were not in a rest
area. Company A was assigned to defensive positions thirty kilometers east of Bitche
between the villages of Jaegerthal and Lembach (Map 4, pg. 64). Some foxholes
were only a few yards from the deserted concrete and steel bunkers of the Maginot
Line. Presumably due to their inappropriate positioning, the "Brass" did not choose
to use the bunkers for defensive positions. Again, the lines were dreadfully thin with
about ten to twelve yards between foxholes. Company A was so desperately short
of manpower that every available body had to be on the line, which meant that they
could not put even a squad in reserve. Some positions were clearly visible to the
Germans and accessible only at night.
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LORRAINE
Since the German troops had plenty of time to prepare their defenses, their
positions were elaborate dugouts roughly two hundred yards north of the American
MLR. A snow-blanketed "no-man's-land" protected by concealed mine fields and
coils of concertina wire separated the foes. The enemy dugouts were at the edge of
the woods, which afforded their troops some cover, and the dense woods allowed
them to move about freely during the day without being detected. Their positions
were well camouflaged, which made them very difficult for the GIs to locate. They
used smokeless powder which enabled them to snipe at the Americans at will, and as
long as they did not use tracers, their positions remained concealed.
The men had long since learned that one big disadvantage of being a task
force was that they were frequently shoved from place to place. Task forces were
used to fill gaps and to reinforce whatever unit that happened to be in trouble at the
time. Every outfit, to which a task force was attached, treated the attached unit as
though they were fresh troops and used them for some of their toughest assignments.
As a result, the task force GIs got very little rest, damn few hot meals, no changes of
clothing, and more than their share of dirty, bloody combat. The unit, to which the
task force was attached, claimed credit for all victories and got all the citations.
Frequently no mention was made of Task Force Herren nor the 276th Infantry.
The below-zero weather persisted. Water in the canteens continued to be solid
ice, hands and feet ached, C and K rations froze, and weapons required continuous
attention to prevent malfunctioning. Everyone was totally exhausted from the ordeals
at Wingen and Les Vosges, which made it extremely difficult for them to remain alert
for any extended period. During the long nights in those lonely foxholes, everyone
was very much on edge and was startled by the slightest sound. Enemy reconnaissance and combat patrols were very active, so the men believed that the Germans had
a good idea where every GI position was located. Each night the men moved the tripflares that were in place in front of their foxholes. If the enemy discovered them,
they would not be in the same locations the next time they came back. For two nights
in a row the men were plagued by the low, hollow cries of hoot owls. They had not
heard those sounds before and some thought that the hoots may have been enemy
signals or the enemy's deliberate attempts to unnerve the men. Whatever the source,
the eerie sounds in the dead of night were effective in keeping many GIs on a ragged
edge.
Company A's mission was to contain the enemy at the present MLR by
repelling any attempts to infiltrate or break through the American Lines and to
engage in active reconnaissance to determine the German's strength and movements.
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LORRAINE
Each night Lt. Doenges sent out a patrol to attempt to bring back prisoners for
interrogation. For several reasons, most of the patrols were not successful. In
crossing the "no-man's-land," the men had to cut their way through concertina wire,
which made enough noise to arouse the Germans. Also, the area was heavily mined
and booby trapped, and finally the men were just dog tired. In addition to patrolling,
the next three days of active combat was mainly an exchange of small arms and light
mortar fire.
Shortly after dark the second night on the Maginot Line, the company runner,
Millis Griffey, came out to the positions with messages for Wager and Bambrick to
report to the Battalion CP. Both men were offered battlefield commissions, which
they accepted. Bambrick was transferred to the 36th Infantry Division and Wagger
later returned to Company A to replace Lt. Schollander as Second Platoon Leader.
The next morning , January 15, Pupinski, Scopp and Carroll came out to the
MLR with hot chow and mail from home. To avoid being detected and drawing
enemy fire, Pfc John Welte brought his jeep and trailer to a sheltered ravine about a
hundred yards from the foxholes. The men took turns, four and five at a time, going
back in the woods for a breakfast of scrambled dehydrated eggs, bacon, oatmeal,
toast and hot coffee. It was the first really hot meal that the men had in several days
and they ate like they would never see another. Pupinski really overdid it. He
brought up enough food for a hundred men but there were less than twenty men left
in the Company. Most of the early morning was spent going back for seconds and
thirds, until no one could eat another bite. The men had to share mess gear, but that
was not a problem as only five could safely leave the positions at a time. The next
day, everyone's misery was compounded by several new cases of the GIs, which they
attributed to eating too much food and greasy bacon too fast on shrunken stomachs.
Late in the afternoon of January 16, Lt. Doenges received orders from
Battalion Headquarters to get the Company prepared to move out. The 410th
Infantry would relieve the 276th Infantry on that sector of the MLR, and as usual no
one seemed to know what was going on. The men did not like the positions near the
Maginot Line, but they did not like the idea of another cold ride either. It was
another of those sudden moves that the men could never get accustomed to. That
night under the cover of darkness, the entire Regiment moved by truck several miles
west to the vicinity of Farebersviller. Again the men climbed aboard the familiar sixby-sixes and were on their way to another undisclosed destination. Where it normally
took seven or eight trucks to transport a rifle company, the entire company crowded
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LORRAINE
into one six-by-six. As the men expected, it was another cold miserable ride in below
zero weather. The 276th Infantry took up positions fronting the enemy between
Emmersweiler and Buschbach in the Lorraine Province of northeast France.
Company A was deployed in and around the village of Rosbruck, France (Map 9,
below).
Rosbruck was a small village that was virtually evacuated before Company
A’s arrival. Like in many of the other villages, the houses that lined the narrow
cobblestone streets were small, lacked indoor plumbing, and housed both humans and
livestock under the same roof. In most houses, the attics were the haylofts. For the
160
LORRAINE
first time since going into combat, the men were able to spend part of their time under
cover. The houses were without heat and due to the extremely low temperature, the
inside walls were covered with frost, but the men found them a better shelter than the
alternative. Like most villages in that part of France, many dwellings were severely
damaged or destroyed by shell fire and no glass remained in the windows. Lt.
Doenges ordered the Company to establish and dig defensive positions at the edge
of some woods a short distance to the north of the village. The three rifle platoons
and two machine gun squads were on line. The Second Platoon dug in on the right,
the First Platoon dug in in the center and the Third Platoon dug in on the left flank.
Machine gun squads were placed between the rifle platoons. In reality the three rifle
platoons were no more than squads. The positions at the edge of the woods
overlooked a broad expanse of brush covered land. About five hundred yards out,
there were more forests and hills and the German border was one mile to the
northwest. The front in that area was extremely fluid and there was apparently no
defined MLR. Again the men found themselves faced with frozen ground. They
spent the next two or three days digging and improving their foxholes. Each Platoon
Sergeant had his own system for manning the positions. Usually a man would spend
three or four hours in the positions then spend three or four hours in Rosbruck.
When they were in the village, they took turns providing internal security and, when
time permitted, they got a little rest. Those in the village were responsible for
manning road blocks on the three routes leading in and out of the village. One was
at a bridge north of the town and the others were about a quarter of a mile south and
southeast of town.
Enemy forces had been operating in that sector for more than a month and
were believed to have been strengthening their positions. No one seemed to know
whether the Germans were building up defenses, or were preparing for another offensive. It was up to the Trailblazers to find out. The Germans had taken the Allies by
surprise in the Ardennes and Les Vosges, so it was probable that they were capable
of attempting it again. Each night reconnaissance patrols were sent into enemy
territory to obtain information regarding enemy strength and troop movements. Some
were dispatched for the sole purpose of bringing back German prisoners.
Night reconnaissance patrolling was the most risky and detested duty that
infantrymen were required to undertake. The patrols often went deep into enemy
territory to seek out troops and positions, to look for weak spots in their defenses, to
attempt to estimate their numbers and precise locations, and to locate the positions
of their armor and artillery. Those missions were usually accomplished under the
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cover of darkness and in absolute silence. Reconnaissance patrols numbered from
two or three men up to a dozen, however seldom more than five or six. The men
carried as little equipment as possible and absolutely nothing that could reflect light
or make noise. Often steel helmets were left behind to lighten the load, to prevent the
outline from being silhouetted against the background, and to eliminate the possibility of accidental noise. The men would sometimes blacken their faces with
charcoal or mud. The going was nearly always slow because absolute silence was
essential, and booby traps, mines, signal wires, and barb wire had to be sought out
and avoided. In the dead of night, the slightest noise, such as the rattle of barb wire
rang out louder than church bells. Often one would imagine that his heart beat could
be heard for a mile. The longer he listened, the louder it got. Patrol leaders
communicated with their men strictly by sign language and touch. The freezing
temperatures became more unbearable than usual due to the inability of one to freely
move about without making any noise. The single most unnerving part of night
patrols was the continued suspense of never knowing if the enemy was watching the
patrol and was sucking it into an ambush.
There were times when a patrol started on a reconnaissance mission, but
turned into a combat patrol before completing its mission and getting back through
the lines. That was often the case when the patrol's mission was to bring back
German prisoners for interrogation. It was extremely difficult, and most of the time
impossible, to capture an enemy soldier without alerting the enemy or engaging in
gunfire. Often a patrol was detected by the enemy either before or after having accomplished its mission. It would then have to fight its way back to American lines.
Such instances were the most risky of all situations because in the dark the GIs
manning outposts or positions on the MLR could not tell GIs from Germans. In
some instances English speaking German soldiers, particularly the SS, wore
American uniforms, which enabled them to more easily infiltrate the American lines.
When captured, they were shot on the spot. The men manning the outposts were
compelled to be extremely cautious, and unless they knew in advance that an
American patrol was to come through the lines at a precise time, they fired at
anything in front of them that moved.
While at Rosbruck, the men got their first change of clothing and their first
opportunity to shower since leaving the ship. The field shower was an engineering
marvel. It was a GI lister bag (canvas water bag about three feet high and twenty
inches in diameter) with a shower head attached to the bottom. It was filled with
warm water and hung five feet from the ground. After striping to his dog tags and
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discarding his clothing, each man had his opportunity to get wet, soap his body, get
rinsed and make room for the next guy. Next he grabbed his boots and towel and ran
a short distance over the frozen ground to a tent where he got into clean underwear,
shirt, socks and trousers. The entire procedure was accomplished in freezing weather
in a very few minutes. It proved to be an invigorating experience, not soon to be
forgotten, but all would agree that it was well worth the few minutes of torture. The
men were at long last able to get rid of the mucky, filthy, bloody, smelly, grimy
underwear, shirts, and trousers. To be clean and have clean clothing gave everyone
a new lease on life. Some of the clothing did not fit very well, but no one cared. It
was clean, dry and did not smell and that was all that mattered.
Soon after taking up positions at Rosbruck, a reorganization of the Company
started to take shape. Some men who were evacuated from Wingen and Les Vosges,
whose wounds were not serious, came back to the Company. 1st Lt. Jackson
Matthews, a former anti-tank officer, was the new CO who replaced Lt. Arnest. Lt.
Matthews was a slight, soft-spoken, conservative individual with very little rifle
company experience. He readily admitted to the other officers and some noncommissioned officers that while he learned, he would be "going along for the ride." Shortly
after his arrival, he was promoted to captain. Second Lt. Doenges was promoted to
1st Lt. and became the Company Exec. Officer.
T/Sgt. Robert "Bob" Brewer returned to duty after being slightly wounded on
Hill 358. He received a battle field commission and came back to the Company as
a 2nd Lt. and took over the Third Platoon. He replaced Lt. McClintock who was
killed in action at Wingen. Bob Brewer came to the 70th Infantry Division while the
Trailblazers were stationed at Ft. Leonard Wood. He was in the Regular Army
before the war and served in action against the Japanese in the Aleutian Islands
during the early days of the war. A few weeks before the Division left Ft. Leonard
Wood, Brewer requested a furlough, which was denied because he had already used
his leave time. He then went AWOL to his home in Idaho. A week later he was
picked up by the MPs, escorted back to Ft. Leonard Wood, court-martialed, and
reduced in rank to Pvt. Just before the Division moved to the Port of Embarkation,
Brewer was given back his stripes and went overseas at his former rank of T/Sgt.
S/Sgts. Richard Armstrong, Daniel Jury, John Steiner, and Judson Harmon
were promoted to T/Sgts. and became the platoon sergeants of the First, Second,
Third and Weapons Platoons. Sgt. John Haller, Sgt. William Schmitz, Pvt. Lloyd
Finney and Pfcs Frank Lowry, Oliver Davis, Lloyd Patterson, Edward Skalitzky,
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Harold Jaros and Jack Mussler were made squad leaders and promoted to Staff
Sergeants. The rifle platoons were completely reorganized. All had new platoon
sergeants and nearly every squad had a new squad leader. The noncommissioned
officers were reassigned to different platoons to provide a more even distribution of
the battle experienced leaders. The Supply Sergeant, S/Sgt. Vernon Wilson was
assigned the duties of the First Sergeant, and was later promoted to 1st/Sgt. On
January 31, 1945, the officers and noncommissioned officers of the platoons were:
FIRST PLATOON
PLATOON LEADER
PLATOON SERGEANT
PLATOON GUIDE
SQUAD LEADER--1st SQUAD
SQUAD LEADER--2nd SQUAD
SQUAD LEADER--3rd SQUAD
2nd Lt. Kerber
T/Sgt. Richard Armstrong
S/Sgt. Arnold Shelander
S/Sgt. Lloyd Patterson
S/Sgt. Earl Granger
S/Sgt. William Hudson
SECOND PLATOON
PLATOON LEADER
2nd Lt. Harold Wagger
PLATOON SERGEANT
T/Sgt. Daniel Jury
PLATOON GUIDE
S/Sgt. John Haller
S/Sgt. Edward Skalitzky
S/Sgt. Harold Jaros
S/Sgt. William Schmitz
THIRD PLATOON
PLATOON LEADER
2nd Lt. Robert Brewer
PLATOON SERGEANT
T/Sgt. John Steiner
PLATOON GUIDE
S/Sgt. Jack Mussler
S/Sgt. Oliver Davis
S/Sgt. Lloyd Finney
S/Sgt. Frank Lowry
WEAPONS PLATOON
PLATOON LEADER
2nd Lt. Lester Jenkins
PLATOON SERGEANT
T/Sgt. Judson Harmon
MORTAR SECTION LEADER
S/Sgt. Russell Causey
MORTAR SQUAD LEADER--1st SQUAD
Sgt. Herbert O'Banion
MORTAR SQUAD LEADER--2nd SQUAD
Sgt. Gordon Bowar
MORTAR SQUAD LEADER--3rd SQUAD
Sgt. Daniel Micherdzinski
Machine gun SECTION LEADER
Sgt. Robert Wood
MG SQUAD LEADER--1st SQUAD
Sgt. Robert Wood
MG SQUAD LEADER--2nd SQUAD
Sgt. Dean Mayer
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Many much needed replacements started to arrive in late January and early
February, which enabled the Company to start rebuilding the rifle platoons that were
so badly decimated during the first two weeks of January. The replacements helped
fill the ranks but Company A was far from being up to T/O (full) strength. Many
replacements were green troops, fresh from the replacement training centers in the
ZI (Zone Of The Interior). Some were fresh out of basic training and had been in the
Army only a few months. Others transferred in from various branches of the Army
and were not trained to be infantrymen. Many lacked adequate training to face the
enemy under conditions that the Trailblazers had experienced during the preceding
weeks. The NCOs made a real effort to integrate the new men into the Company and
give them as much training as possible under extremely adverse conditions. In spite
of their lack of sufficient infantry training, nearly all of the new men were good
soldiers with positive attitudes and were willing and able to learn. There were very,
very few exceptions.
In one instance a private came to the Third Platoon and T/Sgt. Steiner assigned
him to S/Sgt. Lowry's squad. He was quick to inform his squad leader in a decidedly
English accent that he was a man with considerable military experience. He claimed
to have served five years in the British Army as "Personal messenger for the
Brigadier." He told the men that he was honorably discharged from the British
Army, went to the US, and was drafted into the Army because one of his parents was
an American citizen. No one in the squad was the least bit impressed. Later that
night when he was assigned to stand guard at the bridge west of the village, the new
man asked to be excused. His reason was that he was exhausted from the trip from
the rear up to the Company. That was the wrong remark to make to men who knew
what being exhausted really meant. All responded in unison and very loudly, “No
shit!” There was no way that man was going to be excused so the squad leader led
him to his post and gave him his special orders. Two hours later the squad leader
sent Pfc Ted Kucmerosky to relieve the Brit. Ted had just arrived at the front after
a long trip from the U.S. to Italy, then to Marseilles and on Forty and Eights to
Alsace-Lorraine. After looking around for a few minutes and being unable to find
the man he was supposed to relieve, Ted took his post and stood guard until his relief
came a couple of hours later. It was a few days later when the squad leader and
platoon sergeant learned that the Brit had deserted his post and went into a building
to escape the bitter cold. He should have been sent back to the rear and
court-martialed, but the outfit was short of men and no one wanted to let him off that
easy. They all thanked God that his kind of replacement was the rare exception rather
than the rule.
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The NCOs were all well trained and skilled leaders and above all they were
combat tested. They and the other survivors of Wingen-sur-Moder and Les Vosges
evolved into a closely knit group. Most started out with Company A at Camp Adair,
so they had been through a lot of training together, drank a lot of beer together and
knew each other well. That enabled them to form a sound nucleus for rebuilding the
Company, but they needed time which they did not have. They saw so many of their
friends killed and wounded that some were very slow in getting to know the new
replacements. Everyone knew that they would see a lot more death before the war
would end, consequently many of the older men were subconsciously reluctant to
make new friends only to see them killed.
For a while after the replacements started to fill the Company's ranks, the night
patrols continued to include mostly the veterans of Wingen and Les Vosges.
Gradually the newer men were included, one or two at a time. The real danger was
that none of the new men had been tested under enemy fire and no one knew how
they would react to the extreme pressures of a night patrol behind enemy lines. The
mistake of one man could cause the annihilation of the entire patrol. On one
occasion, shortly after a patrol had passed through the OPLR, a man told the sergeant
that he could not continue. He said he had to turn back because he had a cold and
was afraid he might cough and alert the Germans of the patrol's presence. The patrol
leader did not buy the man's story and threatened to cut the sleeve off his shirt and
gag him with it if he even gave another thought to coughing or making any kind of
noise. In many similar incidents where combat veterans had colds, they buried their
faces in snow and dirt to refrain from audibly coughing. Colds and coughing spells
were not unusual in those winter months, and it was no easy job to suppress a
coughing spasm.
While the Company was undergoing reorganization at Rosbruck, hot chow
became more frequent and mail from home began to arrive more regularly. One
evening Dick Armstrong told Brewer, Steiner, Jury, Haller, Lowry, Patterson and a
few other old timers that he received a package from home that he wanted to share
with the guys. The package contained two one-quart cans labeled "Tomato juice."
Patterson was quick to tell Armstrong "Thanks, but no thanks!" He did not like
tomatoes or tomato juice. When Armstrong opened a can with the tip of his bayonet,
the men got a whiff of the contents. The can contained one-hundred proof straight
bourbon whiskey. When Patterson smelled the bourbon he quickly changed his mind
and joined the party. It was the first whiskey that the fellows tasted since they were
in Boston. That night they polished off one tin and saved the other for the next
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evening. It was a very fine treat on a bitter cold and snowy night. After that incident,
every time Armstrong received a package from home, his old buddies kept an eye on
it, and him, until it was opened and appropriate disposition was made of the contents.
To everyone's joy, Armstrong's receipt of similar packages became a regular
occurrence.
On February 3, 1945, Captain Matthews got word that Task Force Herren was
dissolved, and that the 70th Infantry Division (Trailblazers) would again function as
a self-contained unit. The headquarters staff, Division Artillery, Engineers and all
other support units arrived in France from the United States. Major Gen. Allison J
Barnett, who led the Division from the time of its arrival at Ft. Leonard Wood until
its departure for the ETO, also arrived in Europe and resumed command. The old
familiar Trailblazer insignia started to show up on the left shoulders of the men's
jackets and every infantryman who was engaged in combat against the armed enemy
received the coveted blue and silver "Combat Infantry Badge." The sudden troop
movements from one sector of the fighting front to another were expected to became
less frequent. No longer were the Trailblazers to be fragmented and its units attached
to other divisions. While troop movements under the cover of darkness necessarily
continued, they were made with some semblance of order.
On February 5, the Regiment was reassigned to new defensive positions on
the MLR south of Oeting, Behren, and Kerbach, France. (Map 10, pg. 168). That
sector of the front was only a few miles from the Saar River and the international
border separating France and Germany. Late in the afternoon, Company A marched
from Rosbruck to Gaubiving and dug in south of the heavily defended village of
Oeting (Oetingen). At that point in time, approximately three-fourths of the men in
Company A were new reinforcements and most of the men, except for the old timers,
were not acquainted with one another.
Shortly after Company A took up the positions south of Oeting, the weather
suddenly changed from ice and snow to cold rain and sleet. In a few days, nearly two
feet of snow melted. The ground thawed and the foxholes became sticky, muddy pits
with a foot of water and mud in the bottoms. The men used their steel helmets and
C ration cans to bail water from the holes. Pfc Ignace Matla and Pfc Ted
Kucmerosky were sharing a foxhole when the walls gave away and caved in on them.
No one was hurt but they and their weapons were muddy messes. Even with rain
coats, it was virtually impossible to keep one's clothing dry. The shoe pacs helped
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keep their feet dry, but they did very little to keep them warm. Although the
temperature rose above freezing, the rain and cold mud did nothing to take the chill
out of the men's bones. They were nearly as miserable as they were when the
temperature was ten degrees below zero.
As the snow melted, the landscape changed drastically and many surprises
were uncovered. The unpaved roads became massive pools of mire and numerous
land mines became visible. In the village, the men discovered that the mounds in
front of the houses were actually manure piles. When they were frozen and covered
with snow, the men thought nothing of them. But when the snow was gone and piles
began to thaw, they spewed forth the unmistakable barnyard odor. On the
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countryside and in forests, many items of military equipment and supplies came into
view. In the more remote areas of the forests, reeking remains of German and GI
corpses emerged from under the melting snow.
The First and Third Battalions were deployed along the MLR. The Second
Battalion was in a ready position to the rear, preparatory to making a raid in battalion
strength. Its objective was the town of Oeting and the high ground surrounding the
village. The first element of the Second Battalion raid went through the MLR at
midnight and crossed the line of departure at 0001 on February 6. Elements of the
Second Battalion reached the high ground to the east, south, and west of the town and
encountered extremely heavy enemy resistance. After two days of fierce fighting
facing severe artillery, mortar and tank fire, the attacking forces were withdrawn to
reserve positions behind the MLR. Both the Germans and the GIs suffered heavy
losses in the action, but no ground was taken nor given. Company A's sector of the
front facing Oeting was situated on the forward slope of a broad hill about six
hundred yards north of the village of Gaubiving (Map 10, pg 168). Captain
Matthews set up the Company CP in a house on the north part of the village. S/Sgt.
Patterson's squad from the First Platoon and S/Sgt. Lowry's squad from the Third
Platoon manned the outposts that were about one hundred yards forward of the MLR.
Those were extremely sensitive and vulnerable positions and were only accessible at
night.
The broad hill was devoid of timber and was completely exposed to the
enemy. Though the weather was still cold, only a few patches of snow remained on
the ground, but there was an abundance of mud. Heavy brush from three to five feet
high extended from about twenty yards in front of the outposts, down to the bottom
of the hill and up the mountains on the other side toward Oeting. German positions
in the brush and timber on the other side of the canyon were observed and monitored
from the outpost positions, while the enemy in turn monitored the US positions. Any
movement by the GIs, brought on enemy fire. Consequently, the men manning the
outposts were virtually pinned down during the day. The men on the OPLR were
instructed not to fire on the distant enemy positions because their responsibility was
to observe and report by field telephone any German troop movements. They were
to fire only at enemy approaching their positions and to stop any attempt by the
enemy to come through the OPLR. The other rifle squads and the machine gun
squads were dug in on the MLR on the crest of the hill. The Weapons Platoon mortar
squads were positioned on the reverse slope of the hill out of sight of the enemy.
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On a few occasions at night, enemy patrols attempted to infiltrate through the
OPLR. The men on the outpost positions were ordered to shoot anything in front of
them that moved unless they were told that a friendly patrol would pass through a
particular place at a specific hour. For that reason it was extremely critical that a
patrol leader maintain a tight schedule and it was helpful to be aware of the current
password. Some patrols were combat patrols and their sole mission was to kill as
many enemy soldiers as possible. When they accomplished their mission, the men
returned to their positions on the MLR as quickly as possible. Those combat patrols
became known as "The Oeting Raids." Also, several patrols were sent into enemy
territory at night to capture and bring back prisoners for interrogation.
Except for the combat patrols and raids, the front facing the Saarland remained
static until the middle of February. Neither side gained nor lost a great deal of
ground. Each night the men manning the outposts on the OPLR were relieved and
exchanged positions with some of those manning positions on the MLR. It gave
those on the OPLR a chance to move around a bit, and an opportunity to eat at least
one hot meal every other day or so.
One evening, a few days after Company A took up positions on the MLR
overlooking Oeting, T/Sgt. Steiner was making the rounds of Third Platoon
positions. He came out from the CP in Gaubiving just when S/Sgt. Lowry was taking
some men out to relieve the men on the OPLR. After looking around the Third
Platoon sector, he told Lowry that he intended to spend the night on the MLR and not
go back to the CP until morning. Lowry suggested that Steiner join him in a position
on the OPLR to which he agreed. In total darkness, they went over the crest of the
hill and down the forward slope to a foxhole on the left flank of the Third Platoon
sector. Lowry told Steiner to be prepared for a long cold and hopefully uneventful
night. It was long and cold but not exactly uneventful. Shortly before midnight,
against a moonlit background, they saw the silhouette of a man standing about fifty
yards to their right, lighting a cigarette. The fire from the cigarette lighter was so
bright that it could have been seen a mile away. Steiner whispered: "Who in the hell
is that dumb son-of-a-bitch?" The smoker did not go unnoticed by the Germans as
they instantly sprayed the area with machine gun fire. Some enemy bullets came
close enough to Steiner to splash mud on him. When the machine gun ceased, Lowry
got out of the foxhole and went over to the area where the man had been standing.
Fortunately he found that no one had been hit and the men used great restraint in not
firing when they had no visible targets to shoot at. That would only have given the
rest of their positions away. It did not take long for the squad leader to discover that
the culprit was the new man, who supposedly spent five years(?) in the British Army.
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The squad leader took him back to the hole where Steiner was waiting and shoved
him in saying, "Sarge, This is the second time this guy has f___ed up and damn near
got us all killed. How about taking the good for nothing bastard away and shanghai
him?" Steiner retorted, "You bet your ass I will. Don’t worry, you won't have to put
up with him any longer." Then he jokingly added, "Lowry, how come every time I
get near you, I get shot at?" That episode was an effective demonstration about how
much attention one cigarette or match could attract. The next morning Captain
Matthews sent the Brit back to the Battalion CP.
The 884th Field Artillery Battalion sent a FO (Forward Observer) to establish
an observation post on the MLR with Company A. Captain Matthews placed the FO
at the First Platoon CP, which was located in a small building near the right flank of
the Company's sector. After dark one night some First Platoon men heard Germans
digging in front of their outposts. They were either moving an outpost position or
were attempting to improve a position. One of the new replacements, a fellow from
West Virginia, was manning a position on the OPLR when he heard the digging. He
contacted the FO by telephone and called for a few rounds of artillery on the German
position. It took some persuasion to convince the FO to call for fire, but finally the
FO felt confident and called for one round. He instructed the man in the outpost to
observe the strike of the round and be prepared to correct the fire. Fortunately the
man's squad leader, S/Sgt. Patterson, was listening in on the conversation. When the
first shot came in and struck much too close to the OPLR, Patterson was more than
a little concerned. He listened carefully for the correction, trusting that the man in
the outpost could observe the round better than he. The FO asked, "How was it?"
The man's reply was, "Good, but move 'er up the holler uh piece." "Up the holler uh
piece" could have put the next round or rounds directly into the OPLR positions, or
at least too damn close for Patterson's comfort. In a split second Patterson was on the
line telling the FO to "Hold your fire" and threatened him with more than bodily
harm if he followed the hillbilly's correction. Later when the First Platoon men
talked about the incident, they began to see the humor in it, but at the time it was not
a bit funny. For a long time after the incident, the expression "up the holler uh
piece" was repeated often by the men of the First Platoon.
T/Sgt. Armstrong had some very anxious moments one night while he was
checking on the OPLR positions by telephone. When he called the outpost, he got
an answer from a foreign sounding voice that he definitely did not recognize. The
man in the outpost spoke such broken English that Armstrong was convinced that he
had a German on the line in one of his positions. As it turned out, the man in the
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position was Pvt. Ted Kadjer, a new replacement with whom Armstrong had not
become acquainted. Kadjer spoke English with a decided accent, but he spoke
excellent Polish, which became useful to the Company later on.
Mines and booby traps were always serious problems. Many casualties
resulted from AP(anti personnel) mines and many vehicles and tanks were put out of
action by land mines. Men in the attack or on patrol had to always be on the alert for
shu mines, trip wires, or anything that could set off flares or booby traps. One
evening shortly after dark, John Welte was driving Sgt. Herbert O'Banion and two
others to the Company CP for supplies. When they were directly in front of the CP,
the left front wheel of the jeep struck and detonated a land mine. The jeep was
destroyed and Welte's three passengers were seriously injured and had to be
evacuated. John Welte got the hell scared out of him as did everyone in the CP, but
he pulled himself together and walked away from the remains of his jeep. He was
bruised a little and had a slight concussion, but he never reported to the Aid Station.
About a half hour after Welte struck the mine, Lowry left the CP at Gaubiving
to return to the OPLR positions. On the way he heard rifle fire in the direction of the
reverse slope of the hill where the Weapons Platoon was dug in. Rather than go
directly to the OPLR, he made his way in the darkness toward the mortar positions
where he heard the firing. He wanted to find out what was happening, and he did not
want to go past them and catch some "friendly fire" in his backside. When he
reached the mortars, Harmon told him that a new man in Sgt. Mayer's machine gun
squad saw something moving near one of the mortar emplacements. Five or ten
minutes earlier, they had heard rifle fire on the left flank of the OPLR some 100 yards
to their left front. The new man fired several carbine rounds in the direction where
he thought he saw a German carrying something on his back, but there was no return
fire. After scouting the area, Harmon found no sign of a German but did find that the
new man had shot up a 60mm mortar. Some were inclined to dismiss the incident as
resulting from a bad case of the jitters but others were convinced that enemy infiltrators were on the scene. Once he was assured that he would not be shot by any of
Harmon's men, Lowry continued over the crest of the hill and down the reverse slope
to the OPLR. When he reached the outposts, Pfc Matla told him that an enemy patrol
came within five yards of one of the positions. Two new men opened fire in the
direction where they saw movement. Like the incident at the mortar positions, the
GIs received no return fire. Lowry would like to have chalked it up as another case
of the jitters, but he could not take the chance. Without any encouragement at all,
everyone remained doubly alert that night. Except a few sporadic 88mm bursts, the
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rest of the night was quiet but no one slept. When daylight came, a very dead
German soldier was found not more than ten feet in front of the Third Platoon's left
flank position. A new replacement got his first German. Both Pfc Matla and Pvt.
Moore claimed credit. Those episodes that night in the Weapons Platoon area and
on the OPLR were indications that the new replacements were learning very fast.
The incidents also served to instill in the veterans more confidence in the new
arrivals. Had those men not fired when they did, an enemy patrol could have gotten
through the lines or the GIs might have gotten a potato-masher in one of their holes.
Both men followed orders well and used good split-second judgment when they fired
at something that moved in front of them. However, several men questioned the
theory that the mortar may have moved.
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11. OETING
In the afternoon of February 16, all that the rank and file of Company A knew
was that they were alerted to go into the attack the following morning. What they did
not know was that on February 15, the 70th Infantry Division received orders to
attack and seize the high ground along the south bank of the Saar River opposite the
City of Saarbrucken, Germany. In the most elaborate attack preparations yet drawn
up for the Bloody Axe Regiment, the 276th Infantry was to seize the high ground
dominating the town of Oeting, then move in and capture the town. From the heights
beyond Oeting, the Regiment would then pivot to the north-northwest to take the
French city of Forbach. After securing Forbach the Regiment would continue to
attack northwest through the Forbach Forest to the final objective overlooking the
Saar River between Wehrden and Krugutte.3
The attack began in the early morning hours of February 17. The first units
crossed the line of departure at midnight in the typical two forward one back
formation, with the First Battalion on the right, the Third Battalion on the left and the
Second Battalion in reserve. In the First Battalion sector, Company B and Company
C were on line with Company A in mobile support. A reinforced field artillery
battalion, the 276th Cannon Company, two tank platoons, the 270th Engineer
Battalion, and the 99th Chemical Battalion supported the Bloody Axe Regiment.
That kind of support was a first for the 276th Infantry since the Regiment’s arrival
in France. As Task Force Herren, they did not enjoy such luxury but had to rely on
3
Narrative Report, 276th Infantry Regiment, 29 February 1945
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OETING
the supporting units of the division to which that they were attached, which never
seemed to be available to the Task Force when they were needed.
The rifle companies moved forward to the assault positions and from those
positions they launched the main attack just before daybreak. Most of the snow had
melted but the ground was slippery and muddy, which made the going extremely
rigorous. The men had to advance through thick brush and forests, over rugged
terrain and through a very dense fog. They encountered no German infantry, but
going into the attack was no secret as the German artillery continuously pounded
them. The Battalion's initial objective was the Kleinwald-Fahrbert-Kelsberg Hills
surrounding Oeting, which it reached by nine that morning (Map 10, pg. 168). For
most of the day, Company B tried desperately to gain a foothold in Oeting. But late
in the afternoon the intense, deadly accurate fire from 88s drove the Company back.
The entire First Battalion, after its initial success in taking the hills at Oeting, was
pinned down by a battery of four self-propelled 88s. Everyone was covered with
mud from hitting the ground and sliding into holes and depressions to avoid the
artillery bursts. It was a extremely difficult chore to keep the mud from fouling up
the rifles. Some men put their precious extra socks over the muzzles and some even
wrapped them around the receivers. They frequently fired their rifles into the air just
to make sure that the automatic mechanism would function.
Company A received frequent shelling. Some shells were duds, and others
miraculously exploded between the well-spaced troops causing very few casualties.
While moving down a defile leading into Oeting, Patterson and Pvt. Kennedy heard
88s screaming in; both leaped into a defile to take cover. The first round was close,
but the second exploded next to the hole a split second after they jumped in. The
explosion nearly buried them and their weapons in mud and both experienced a
temporary loss of hearing. They could speak but they could not hear each other.
Each looked the other over carefully and was pleased to find no holes or blood. Later
in the day they regained their hearing, but they spent several anxious hours using sign
language. Temporary loss of hearing was a very common occurrence. Every
infantryman experienced it more than once.
The Germans exercised a great deal of ingenuity in preparing the way for the
Trailblazers. A deep anti-tank ditch made it impossible for vehicles of any kind to
enter Oeting. For the rest of the day and most of the night, the ditch was effective in
preventing the Regiment from using tanks and self propelled anti-tank guns. The
roadways were heavily mined with both land and anti-personnel mines, which caused
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OETING
some casualties and considerable delays. The village itself was well defended by the
strategic location of mortars and machine guns with interlocking fields of fire. At
dusk, Company A reached its initial objective and the men dug in on the high ground
to the southeast of Oeting. Company B, having lost its foothold in Oeting, dug in a
short distance south of the town. Company C, after encountering bitter resistance
during the afternoon, dug in on the east edge of the town. Bazooka teams were
placed in strategic locations because enemy tanks were active in the area. Later when
the squeaking sounds of Tiger tanks were heard moving between Company A's
positions and the village, every bazooka in the Company was trained on the road
leading into Oeting. During the night mortar and artillery fire accounted for several
casualties including one man killed, T/5 Jack P McDaniels
Before daylight the following morning, February 18, they resumed the attack
in pouring rain. Companies A and C advanced northwest across the hills to the east
of Oeting. Company A's objective for the day was to capture and hold the high
ground in the northeast corner of the Kleinwaldchen overlooking Forbach, about a
mile from Oeting (Map 11, pg. 180). Company B and Company L were ordered to
enter and clear the main part of Oeting and Company A was ordered to attack the
southeast section of town. Lt. Wagger took the Second Platoon into the town shortly
after 0800, then Lt. Brewer went in with the Third Platoon. Meanwhile, Companies
B and L attacked down either side of the main street. As the Second Platoon passed
the first few houses, T/Sgt. Jury walked around a stone house in time to spot a Tiger
Tank starting to back down a road. The tank fired point blank at Jury but his aim was
low and the shell hit the mud twenty-five feet short. "Chief" later said, "I went
around the building so fast that my shadow was still on the other side." S/Sgt.
Harold Jaros took his squad into the woods in an attempt to get in a bazooka shot but
the tank did not stay around. As the Third Platoon entered the village, Sgt. Mario
Sbrocco and Pfc Ted Kucmerosky were making their way along a fence when a
mortar burst threw them to the ground. Neither was badly hurt, but Sbrocco was mad
as hell because shrapnel tore the netting that he had just put on his helmet. The
Second and Third Platoons continued through the southeast section of the village
while the First and Weapons Platoons advanced through the woods to the east. It was
house to house fighting from one edge of the little hamlet to the other, but Company
A's casualties were light. The GIs took several prisoners and captured an ammunition
cache in what looked to be a small warehouse. The place was stacked with artillery
shells, panzerfausts, grenades and rifle ammunition. After they sent the prisoners
back, the Second and Third Platoons rejoined the rest of the Company in the woods
north of Oeting.
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OETING
About 1330, the attack continued in the rain with Company A deployed on
the left and Company C on the right. Company B finished clearing the enemy from
Oeting and went in battalion reserve behind Companies A and C. When Company
A was about a thousand yards past Oeting and receiving sporadic 88mm artillery fire,
the forward scouts came upon an elaborate trench line. While the scouts looked
around the area for Germans, Captain Matthews attempted to contact Company C by
radio but all he got was static. He decided to hold up the advance and dispatch a
patrol from the First Platoon to reestablish physical contact with Company C before
going on. Armstrong told Patterson to get the patrol together and report to the CO.
After instructing the platoon leaders to have their men dig in and establish a
perimeter defense, he told Patterson that the Companies lost contact with each other
shortly after they left Oeting. He feared that Company C may have gone in a
direction too far to the right, thus creating a serious gap between them. He told
Patterson to go down the trench line until he found Company C then report back its
location. While the Company took cover and was starting to dig in, Patterson took
three men and went eastward along the trench line. They had walked but a short
distance when they came across the bodies of some GIs. The bodies were not
Company C men as they appeared to have been there for some time. They were very
possibly the remains of GIs who were in one of the raids or combat patrols that were
active in the area during the previous three weeks. The sight of the dead GIs
unnerved the new men to some extent, but Patterson quickly got them to move along
and get on with their mission. They continued to walk in an easterly direction in
search of Charley Company, but without success. The sound of a distant 88mm
artillery battery became increasingly louder as the patrol kept moving toward its
emplacements. Patterson was very thankful that they were not firing at his patrol and
had some other target in mind. The howls of the shells passing overhead were a little
unnerving, particularly to the new men in the patrol. Patterson reminded them that
the shells a guy hears will never hit him.
Finally it became obvious to Patterson that they had missed Company C and
were getting too darn close to the 88s. After an hour of looking, he turned the patrol
around and headed back the way they had come. When they reached the trench lines,
they walked along one side of the trenches rather than through them. As the patrol
was about to cross an intersecting trench, the four GIs suddenly came face to face
with five men moving toward them from the right (north). With a "hold your fire"
signal to his men and all fingers on the triggers, Patterson challenged the five. He
was simultaneously challenged by the Charley's CO. There were about nine long
sighs of relief. After they made a quick exchange of information, Patterson and his
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OETING
patrol made their way back to the Company. Four very thankful GIs returned to their
platoon, a little tired but relieved.
When the CO was satisfied that Company C was not far away, he told the
Platoon Leaders to get their men in formation and ready to move out. The scouts
were sent out and the forward platoons formed skirmish lines. Company A continued
its advance toward its objective in the northeast corner of the Kleinwaldchen
overlooking the City of Forbach (Map 11, pg. 180). Two hours after dark the men
of Company A reached their objective and dug in for the night. They checked and
cleaned their rifles, took care of their feet and changed their socks. Rations were in
short supply as transportation of supplies was hampered by craters in the road, mud,
land mines, trenches, and the necessity of crossing the deep anti-tank ditch in front
of Oeting. The men had an ample supply of ammunition because one does not use
much ammo against artillery barrages and an enemy that he is unable to see. Their
only close contact with the enemy was in and around Oeting.
Map courtesy of Captain Donald “Charlie” Pence, Company B, 275th Infantry
179
OETING
Cartography by Captain Donald “Charlie” Pence, Company B, 275th Infantry
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FORBACH
12. FORBACH
With Oeting cleared of
enemy forces, the next objective
of the Bloody Axe Regiment on
its advance to the Saar River was
Forbach, France, an industrial and
mining city a few miles from the
German border. Forbach, the
largest French city in the area,
was just a few hundred yards
north of the hills where Company
A dug in the previous night.
There were three imposing terrain
barriers between the 276th Infantry and Forbach. There was the
high ground of the Kleinwald
covered by thick woods, the ancient Schlossberg Castle towering
above a steep hill overlooking
Forbach, and to the left of the
high ground was a flat, narrow
valley. The Germans used the
four-hundred year old tower of
Schlossberg Castle for an
observation post. From the tower,
Schlossberg Castle - Tower of Forbach (Photo by Garstki)
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FORBACH
they directed artillery and mortar fire against the advancing Trailblazers. Automatic
weapons covered the narrow valley almost the entire distance between Oeting and
Forbach. The First Battalion captured two hills of the Kleinwald before digging in
on the night of February 18.
On the morning
of February 19, units of
the Third Battalion
stormed the hill and castle and by 1335 the castle was surrounded. In
the mid-afternoon under
a barrage of mortar fire,
Company A went down
the forward slope of the
Kleinwald and dug in in
a cedar thicket at the
edge of town. A short
time later, Lt. Wagger’s
Marie Madeleine Hospital (Photo courtesy of Joseph Zeller, Forbach, France)
Second Platoon
assaulted the southeast edge of the city and occupied the first building in its path
which by chance was a hospital. There were no visible exterior markings to indicate
that the building was the Marie Madeleine Hospital. S/Sgt. Harold Jaros and S/Sgt.
William Schmitz led their squads through the courtyard into the building and met
very little enemy resistance. The Germans in the hospital were caught by surprise and
beat a hasty retreat through the front entrance as the GIs entered from the rear.
Though the Germans did not appear prepared to defend the hospital, they were
exceptionally well prepared to keep the Americans out of the city. S/Sgt Jim
Skalitzky's squad, which brought up the rear, had a much tougher time getting into
the hospital than Wagger's first two squads. His riflemen encountered heavy machine
gun and mortar fire before they could get near the courtyard. Part of his squad took
cover in a small graveyard and the rest tried to get into the main building. When
Jaros' and Schmitz' squads were inside the building the German machine gun and
mortar fire increased in intensity. Skalitzky's scouts, Joseph Miller and John
Wagoner, positioned themselves at the end of the building where they saw seven or
eight Germans exiting from the front entrance. They fired at the Germans as they left
the building to take cover on the opposite side of a seven-foot wall. Miller and
Wagoner started down the wall to the courtyard when Germans fired at them with
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FORBACH
panzerfausts. One projectile exploded
on the wall above Miller wounding and
knocking him out. Pfc John Wagoner,
who had joined the Company five days
before and had been in the army only
six months, was killed by the first blast.
He was starting down some steps that
led into the courtyard when the shell
exploded at his feet. The terrific blast
of the armor-piercing projectile blew
off his left leg just above the boot. He
crawled up to the rear of the building
and cried for an aid man. Pfc Edgar
Keane tried to get to him, but he was
hit by a potato masher. Keane staggered into the building bleeding from
all over his body. Jury and Skalitzky
went out to get Wagoner but they
found him dead near the side of the
building.
From his vantage point on the
side of the hill, Captain Matthews was
Courtyard of Marie Madeleine Hospital (Photo courtesy of Joseph
Zeller)
unable to observe what was happening
in the hospital courtyard and apparently
did not realize how intense the enemy fire was. He ordered Lt. Brewer to move the
Third Platoon into the town and establish a foothold in an adjacent building. Lt.
Brewer told S/Sgt Lowry to have his squad ready to move out when the mortar fire
subsided. "Make a run for the hospital and take it from there. When you reach
cover, I'll send in the other two squads. If it looks like you can grab and occupy
another building before dark, go ahead but use your own judgment.” Lt. Brewer
really did not think that Lowry's squad could take another building that night without
more men. If that were at all possible, Lt. Wagger and Jury would have already done
it. After a few minutes the shelling eased up and Lowry took his squad down the
hillside, through the courtyard, and into the hospital with the Second Platoon. There
was a lot of blood on the wet cobblestone and John Wagoner's body was just a few
feet from the doorway. It was a miracle that Lowry's squad made it to the hospital
without a man being hit, as the air was full of lead and mortar shells were exploding
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FORBACH
everywhere. There were many very
near misses. When it started to get
dark, the Captain reconsidered and
decided that it would be better to wait
until morning for the Third Platoon to
follow the Second Platoon into the
town. An attempt to occupy other
buildings in the dark could result in an
unnecessary costly night fight. When
Brewer was about to have Finney take
his squad and follow Lowry, the Captain told him that there were too many
troops in the one building. The Third
Platoon had better dig in where they
were and go into Forbach in the
morning. Brewer's retort was: "Tough
shit, I already have a squad in that
damned building, and I'm sure as hell
not pulling them out through all that
fire." That was the end of the conversation. For several days Steiner and
the squad leaders of the Third Platoon,
Lowry, Finney and Davis, noticed
Front view of Marie Madeleine Hospital - Forbach, France
(Photo courtesy of Joseph Zeller)
some friction developing between Lt.
Brewer and Captain Matthews. Brewer did not attempt to hide his growing
impatience with what he called Captain Matthews' indecisiveness.
When all his men were in the hospital, Jury wasted no time deploying them to
prepare for a counterattack. Simultaneously the nuns and nurses were busy moving
their patients away from the windows. A nurse told Jury that the Germans were
going to return and attack the hospital and drive the Americans out. "Chief" told her
in his rusty German (Pennsylvania Dutch) "Let them come." She told Jury that she
did not think that he understood her, but he assured her that he did. A few minutes
later some Germans attempted to enter through a door at the end of a hallway. They
plunged directly into the automatic fire from Pfc Alfred Bousquet's BAR. Those that
did not die in the doorway disappeared into the darkness. Bousquet was a French
Canadian who spoke French, so between he and Jury, they had the language bases
pretty well covered. Bousquet stayed at his position guarding the door with orders
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FORBACH
from Jury to shoot at anyone or anything that tries to enter. "If what’s left of the door
even moves an inch, shoot the hell out of it before the Krauts can throw in a
grenade."
Pfc Ed Kimmle was a new replacement who joined the Trailblazers at
Rosbruck and was assigned to the Second Platoon as a runner. He was kept busy that
night in Forbach running messages back and forth between Lt. Wagger and the
Company CP located in the cedar thicket where two platoons were dug in. On one
run, as he made his way from the CP to the hospital, he called out that one of Jury's
men was firing at him with a 30-caliber machine gun. Jury told him that his men had
no machine guns and that it must have been a German machine gun that he heard.
Kimmle replied, "That was no Kraut machine gun! I damn well knew an American
machine gun when I hear one." Jaros also thought he heard a GI machine gun and
went to an upper floor to check it out from there. He very quietly opened a window
shutter, looked around the grounds below, pulled the pin from a hand grenade and
let it drop. The next morning the disabled American machine gun was laying on the
ground next to the building along with a dead Wehrmacht gunner.
Some thirty GIs had taken cover in the Marie Madeleine Hospital, which was
under siege the entire night. Several times during the night, the enemy tried to get
back into the hospital, and frequently small arms and mortar fire struck the building
and the outside wall. Skalitzky's squad secured the courtyard and his men patrolled
the porches and threw hand grenades at several Germans as they attempted to gain
access to the grounds. Intense mortar and artillery fire was also directed against
Company A's dug in positions on the side of the hill. Continuous heavy mortar and
artillery fire was also directed at the castle and at all positions of the 276th Infantry
overlooking Forbach. It was the Germans' last desperate attempt to stop the
Trailblazers from getting a foothold in the city. That was anything but a quiet night
and no one slept a wink.
Occupying the Marie Madeleine Hospital presented some serious problems for
the Trailblazers. The hospital building with its thick stone walls provided an
excellent toehold in the city. It was a sturdy building that could well have served as
a bunker. It was operated by the Sisters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul, an order
of Catholic nuns, and the lower floor was more than full to capacity with patients.
Two cadavers wrapped in blankets were on the floor in the hallway waiting to be
taken to the graveyard. On the ground floor, blackout curtains covered the windows.
They could not be removed because it was necessary for the hospital personnel to
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FORBACH
have candle light to care for their patients. In order for the men to observe what was
going on outside, they took up positions at windows on the upper floors where there
was no light inside the building. Worst of all, the mere presence of the GIs drew
German fire on the hospital and endangered the lives of the sisters and the patients.
Some nuns and nurses were terrified when German mortar shells struck the outside
walls of the building and exploded near the windows. The GIs wished that they were
in another building, but there was nothing they could do about it until daylight.
Everyone was uneasy and Lt. Wagger had reservations about making aggressive
moves against the enemy. He did not want to put the civilians in the overcrowded
hospital in greater danger. In spite of their cramped and perilous situation, the nuns
made a small ward available for the temporary care of the wounded GIs. One sister
made hot tea for the wounded men and heated water on a coal stove so that the GIs
could make some Nescafe. There was no doctor available and the nurses were out
of medical supplies.
The main building was surrounded on three sides by a seven-foot stone wall.
The wall enclosed a courtyard on the south and the remains of a garden and a
cobblestone alley on the north. A stone and wood fence with an iron gate extended
across the front of the building. The wall was effective in keeping the Germans at
a distance; nevertheless, they could still get close enough to it without being seen to
throw potato-mashers over into the courtyard and against the building. As long as
the GIs avoided the grounds next to the building and stayed out of the courtyard, the
German grenades exploded harmlessly outside. Frequently during the night mortar
shells exploded near and against the building, but none penetrated the thick walls or
came through the shuttered windows. That night a German threw several grenades
over the wall. Every few minutes, one exploded near the north door. After four or
five grenades exploded, a man in Skalitzky's squad figured out where they came from
and quietly went out the rear entrance. He went around the building, eased up to the
wall and lobbed three or four grenades over the wall into the area where he thought
the German was. He wounded at least one German who spent the next hour moaning
and crying out "Heil Hitler." He must have been an SS soldier as the Wehrmacht
troops were rarely that fanatical.
Later that night, Haller and Lowry were told to take a patrol into the city with
a mission to reconnoiter the area and attempt to find out which nearby buildings were
not occupied by the enemy. They were instructed to locate suitable buildings for the
Second and Third Platoons to attack and occupy the following morning. With Lowry
leading off as the forward scout, the patrol went slowly and silently through the
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FORBACH
seemingly deserted streets for more than two hours but accomplished very little.
Except for the severely shelled buildings with the outside walls partially blown away,
there was no way to tell if a building was occupied. There were no lights of any kind,
which made it very doubtful that many of the buildings would be recognizable in the
daylight. It was still raining and there was no starlight. About the time Haller and
Lowry decided to turn the patrol around and head back, a man stepped on some
broken glass or rubble and instantly alerted the Germans. The enemy opened fire and
sprayed the street with machine gun bullets from three positions, prompting the men
to spread out, seek cover and hug the ground. Haller told the men to remain spread
out and not to return fire as it would only serve to pinpoint their locations. After a
few very long minutes, they started to crawl back toward the hospital. The German
machine gun tracers did not come close to anyone, which suggested that the enemy
really did not know exactly where the GIs were, but for a while they thought that they
were dead ducks. When it was safe to move, the men got on their feet and quietly
made their way back and entered the courtyard through an iron gate at the front of the
building. Fortunately no one took any German rounds but the men had a few anxious
moments where their heartbeats were pounding at double time. They thanked God
that the Germans did not use flares, fire any mortar shells or throw grenades into the
street.
At daybreak the following morning, February 20, the CO ordered the First and
Third Platoons to jump off and take the buildings on either side of the hospital. A
few minutes after the men cleared their foxholes and started to attack, the German
mortar shells began to burst all around them. As the shelling commenced, the men
made a dash for their objectives, but they were stopped in their tracks by intensive
burp-gun fire from both houses. T/Sgt. Jud Harmon moved the Weapons Platoon
forward to a position where he pounded the enemy positions with 60mm mortars
which kept them pinned down long enough for the GIs to seek cover in the hospital.
Sgt. Wilbert Kollenbaum, a mortar squad leader, was wounded, "Doc" Haas
bandaged him up, then he continued to lead his squad. There was no place to go but
into the overcrowded hospital. While getting everyone into the building, the
Company sustained four more casualties. Among them was Armstrong who was
wounded while he was kneeling and firing his rifle over a low brick fence. Mortar
shrapnel hit him in the back and legs; however, his wounds were not so serious as to
require evacuation. Ten days later he was back on the line. Meanwhile, S/Sgt. "Red"
Shelander took charge as acting Platoon Leader of the First Platoon. By 0900 the
entire Company was in the hospital building and the other companies of the First
Battalion had also gained toe holds in houses further to the left and right of Company
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FORBACH
A. Fierce enemy resistance prevented all of the units from breaking out into the
town. It was like all the German soldiers in Europe were concentrated around Marie
Madeleine Hospital.
On rare occasions in the heat of battle, when everyone was under extreme pressure,
weary, edgy and nothing was going as expected, friction would develop between
some officers and noncommissioned officers. The other GIs would seldom be aware
of it because the parties to the disagreements would rarely air their differences within
earshot of the men. Right or wrong, like it or not, orders from higher authority were
ultimately complied with if humanly possible. Such was the situation in the courtyard
of Marie Madeleine Hospital on the morning of February 20, when the enemy was
keeping the Company pinned down in the hospital. Major Edward Joyce came on the
scene from the Battalion CP to find out what was holding up the attack and to get the
ball rolling. The officers held an impromptu get together to formulate a plan to break
out into the city. Regimental Headquarters was putting the pressure on the First
Battalion to “get moving.” Major Joyce told Captain Matthews that the Commanding General had ordered the 276th Infantry to attack at once and to take Forbach
without delay. General Barnett directed that the Bloody Axe Regiment was to "Cut,
Slash and Drive!" The Major suggested that the CO get the engineers to blow a
hole in the wall, so that the men could move out into the town. T/Sgt. Jury told the
Major that he did not think that would be the best way to go. He wanted to take the
Second Platoon out the front gate to an apparently unoccupied yellow house northeast of the hospital and jump off from there. From that point the houses were close
together, which afforded them a better opportunity to move from house to house into
town. Also, the men would not have to cross the open space between the hospital
and the next row of buildings. The idea of Jury making an alternative suggestion to
the Major without going through
channels infuriated Captain Matthews. The slow brewing friction
between the CO and one of his platoon sergeants turned to sparks.
Jury was not only on the Captain's
"shit list," but probably on the Major's as well, but that did not bother
him. Captain Matthews reminded
Jury that Lt. Wagger was the platoon leader, not Jury. He could
House NE of Marie Madeleine Hospital (Photo Courtesy of Joseph Zeller)
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FORBACH
forget the yellow house idea because the attack would be through a hole in the wall
as the Major suggested.
The fierce enemy resistance continued and mortar shells exploded inside the
wall every time the men of Company A exposed themselves. Attempts to break out
into the city by the other companies of the Regiment were also repelled by small
arms, automatic weapon, mortar and artillery fire. Finally Captain Matthews ordered
Lt. Brewer to get the Third Platoon through the wall and get into the first row of
houses on the other side of what was once lawn and gardens. Brewer did not like the
idea of attacking without first having artillery support to soften up the enemy
machine gun and heavy mortar positions facing the Company. The Weapons Platoon
60mm mortars were too small to be effective in that instance. The CO said that the
company could not wait for artillery support because the artillery battalion had not
arrived in the area and was therefore not yet in place. He then told Brewer to "get on
with it without the support of artillery." With that command, Brewer and Steiner
moved the Third Platoon up to the wall and without wasting any time they started the
men through the gap. Lowry's squad formed the point. He told the men to spread out
when they were on the other side of the wall and try not to give the enemy a chance
to shoot at more than one moving target at a time. Lowry led off and at once faced
crossfire from two enemy positions. He signaled to the men not to stop because
moving targets were much harder to zero in on than stationary ones. The squad had
only gone about fifteen or twenty yards when a mortar shell landed behind the
sergeant and exploded in the middle of their skirmish line. Everyone behind him was
forced to hit the ground. Lowry, a little deaf and dazed from the concussion of the
mortar blast but lucky to be alive, continued to run forward. When he looked back,
all he could see was the smoke and the lethal flashes of several bursting shells. For
fear that the enemy shells would soon catch up with him, he did not stop running
until he reached cover in the shell of a bombed-out house. Fortunately it was not
occupied by the enemy and apparently they did not observe him enter. Continued
mortar bursts and small arms fire gave his men no choice but to get back through the
wall to the hospital. The determined defensive action of the Germans indicated that
Jury was probably right when he expressed the belief that a frontal attack through the
hole was not the way to go.
It was the next day before Lowry learned that only two of his men were
wounded, but not seriously. He thanked God that it was not worse. When he did not
return to the hospital with his squad, Capt. Matthews was sure that Lowry was killed
in the mortar barrage. The Captain acted as though he had seen a ghost when he and
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FORBACH
Lowry met face to face the following day on a street in Forbach. All he said was: "I
thought you were dead! They told me you were dead! I saw the shells explode"
After coming close to losing his Third Squad, Lt. Brewer told the Captain that
he did not want to attempt another frontal attack against the row of houses until the
machine gun positions and mortars were neutralized. "We got to have some 105mm
artillery support and we need it now!" Captain Matthews then ordered Lt. Wagger
to take the Second Platoon through the wall and across the grassy area to the row of
houses. Wagger no sooner got two squads started through the gap when all hell
broke loose. One man was killed going through the breach and several were
wounded, including the lieutenant who was shot in the arm. He came back into the
courtyard with a shattered, bleeding arm and shouted to Jury “Take over.” From the
looks of his bloody arm, he was out of the war. Jury told the First Squad to stand fast
in the courtyard then dashed through the wall to the other two squads who were in
a bad way. Haller, the Platoon Guide, took shrapnel in the right upper arm, the right
elbow, and the right buttock while he waited in the courtyard with Skalitzky's men.
He, Skalitzky and five members of the squad were ready to jump off through the wall
when an enemy dropped a mortar shell behind them. Haller later remarked, “If I had
kept my damned arm down, I wouldn't have been wounded” but he had no
explanation for the shrapnel in his rear end. He had the "Red Ass" for sure. The
impact knocked everyone in the squad off their feet but Haller was the only one hit
from that burst. However, a few minutes later several more mortar shells exploded
in the garden area as Skalitzky and his men were about to go through the wall. Pfc
William Klaeren, who was standing directly behind Skalitzky, was killed instantly.
Every other man in the squad with the exception of Pfc Serenc Marsh, Skalitzky's
Assistant Squad Leader, was wounded. About that time Captain Matthews and
Major Joyce came on the scene. The Major urged the CO to get his men away from
the hospital, through the wall and to get on with the attack before the entire company
was wiped out. Haller, laying in a slight depression next to the wall, heard the major
remark in a low voice something like "If I carried a rifle, I'd . . . .” On hearing that
"Red-Ass" rolled over and with his good arm he raised his rifle and said “Here
Major, you're welcome to mine!” Haller never heard an acceptance to his offer.
Jury knew that his two squads would never be able to move across the open
area because several men were wounded and the rest were pinned down. Pfc Robert
Arballo's rifle was shot from his hands and he lost his trigger finger. While he
crawled back toward the wall, a bullet pierced his helmet, cut his scull and left him
unconscious. Harold Jaros ran out, picked him up, and carried him back to cover.
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FORBACH
Pvt. Leon Marlow was hit in the buttocks and upper thigh and started to crawl back.
When he reached the wall, he was several yards from the opening. He got on his feet
and struggled over the seven-foot wall while the blood ran off the bottom of his boot.
Pfc Duncan Lee and Pfc Milton Martin were killed in the exposed area between the
hospital and the row of houses. Several others were badly wounded before Jury
could get the platoon back through the wall. When he got back to the hospital, he
could count only eleven men of the Second Platoon who were not killed or wounded.
He was convinced more than ever that he should have taken his men via the yellow
house where they would have had some cover. Jury was madder than hell and went
looking for Major Joyce and Captain Matthews, but he found neither officer. Had
he found them, there might have been a full-blown confrontation.
Casualties were extremely heavy that day with no ground gained to show for
the men's efforts and bloodshed. The Company had only two aidmen, Pfc "Doc"
Sykes and Pfc "Doc" Haas who took care of the wounded in a small ward of the
hospital. They had no blood plasma nor medical supplies other than those that the
aidmen normally carried in their packs, and that supply was nearly exhausted. The
hospital personnel could offer no assistance because they had no medical supplies
themselves. Sixteen seriously wounded men needed urgent medical attention and had
to be evacuated, but there was no transportation. Pvt. Bill Nisnke had his arm nearly
blown off and S/Sgt. William Schmitz had suffered four gunshot wounds and was
bleeding badly. "Doc" Sikes sent the first platoon runner, Ed Kimmle back to the
Battalion Aid Station to get medical supplies and plasma, while Jury went out to look
for anything with wheels to transport the wounded men to an aid station. He located
a sergeant from Company D (Heavy weapons company) who volunteered to provide
a truck to help evacuate Company A's wounded. About two o'clock the following
morning Jury and the weapons company sergeant got the wounded soldiers out the
back of the building, across a wooded area, and into the truck. The casualties were
soon on their way to the rear. Jury was exhausted and more than a little pissed-off as
he considered it the responsibility of the CO, Exec. Officer or First Sergeant to see
to it that the wounded were cared for and evacuated, not a platoon sergeant.
Company A received orders to jump off into Forbach at 0800 the following
morning regardless of the enemy opposition. There was still no artillery support, but
the Exec. Officer, Lt. Doenges thought that they would have it before "H Hour." At
dawn, Jury went out to the wall and noticed two Germans carrying a machine gun
from one of their positions. It appeared that the Germans were changing the
locations of their machine gun positions. While they were moving the guns, Jury
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FORBACH
took advantage of the
situation and led his
remaining eleven men
into the first house to the
right of the opening.
Not a shot was fired at
them.
Meanwhile,
"Red" Shelander took
the First Platoon and
Steiner took the Third
Platoon through the wall
Pushing into Forbach from Marie Madeleine Hospital
and caught the Germans
by surprise.
They
crossed the open garden area and attacked the buildings with rapid fire and threw
grenades into the windows. As quick as lightning the First and Third Platoon GIs
burst into three houses and captured eight wounded Wehrmacht. All three rifle
platoons of Company A were finally out of the hospital and were fighting for more
than a foothold in the city. The battle for Forbach was taking shape but the Germans
fought bitterly to hold their positions and not give ground. "Red" Shelander had
taken over the First Platoon because Lt. Kerber was transferred to Division
Headquarters and Armstrong was wounded two days earlier. Harmon had taken over
the Fourth Platoon as Lt. Jenkins was also wounded and back at the Marie Madeleine
Hospital. Sgt. Gordon Bower, one of Harmon's Mortar Squad Leaders attempted to
set up a mortar in the courtyard, when he was hit in the leg by shrapnel from a
German mortar. A short time later, Sgt. Dean Mayer, a Machine gun Squad Leader
who was looking down the street from a window in the hospital building, saw a
German run across an intersection over a block away. He had just missed getting off
a shot, when another German carrying a high backpack started across the same
intersection. Dean gave him a little lead and dropped him in his tracks. For several
minutes after that, the enemy mortar fire stopped, and later it was discovered that the
German Mayer dropped was carrying the mortar base plate in his pack. Sgt.
Kollenbaum's squad surprised a platoon of German infantrymen waiting for their
morning chow. As they stood in line at a chow wagon with their mess gear in their
hands and their rifles slung over their shoulders, Kollenbaum's men surrounded them.
All twenty-seven dropped their mess gear and rifles and put their hands up.
Company A, on line with the rest of the Regiment, fought its way out from its
toehold at the edge of the city. Slowly and methodically, the men cleared most of the
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FORBACH
houses in the southeast section of town. Breaking out from the hospital and entering
the city was costly. It was a bloody ordeal and the number of casualties was
astounding. Among the Company's many casualties was Sgt. Erman Lyles who was
killed by machine gun fire near the hospital wall.
After Jenkins and Armstrong were patched up, they spent that night in the
temporary aid station in the hospital and the next morning they were taken to the
battalion aid station. There they received further medical attention and because their
wounds were not serious, they were billeted in a house near the Battalion CP. When
they entered the one-room house, they were nearly blown over by a stench coming
from a wood stove used to heat the room. The only occupant of the building was a
lieutenant who was catching some sack time on a cot. It seemed that the poor guy
was suffering from an uncontrollable case of the GIs and had placed his messed up
long johns in the oven to dry out. Armstrong removed his bayonet from its scabbard
and fixed it to his rifle. He very cautiously removed the stinking mess on the tip of
the bayonet and pitched it out the nearest window. Jenkins was released to go back
to the Company the following morning, but Armstrong spent another week
recuperating at the aid station.
City fighting was a new and different experience for the Trailblazers. Before
their attack on Forbach, their warfare had been entirely in small villages, forests, and
mountains. The multi-storied buildings presented different types of obstacles than
did the small houses of Wingen. Each building was like a huge bunker, with
basement windows that opened onto the streets like pillbox embrasures. The solid
stone walls varied from several inches to more than three feet thick. Many would
withstand the shells from 105mm artillery. The Germans knew every building, every
street, every alley, and every neighborhood square. They positioned themselves at
strategic locations throughout the city where they established strong points. With a
minimum of manpower, they defended their lines with rifles, light mortars and
automatic weapons. Their forward observers directed mortar and artillery fire on the
advancing GIs with unbelievable accuracy. Often three or four enemy soldiers,
strategically located, were easily able to hold up an entire attacking platoon. Their
snipers could spot the attackers a block away and pick them off one at a time. In the
confusion and noise, it was often impossible to detect from where the sniper's shot
or shots came. Once he fired a single shot, the sniper most often would simply
disappear. The Germans were extremely skillful in taking every precaution to
prevent giving away their positions. A sniper often exercised extreme patience in
waiting until he had a GI in his sights before firing. If the GI were a scout, the enemy
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FORBACH
would often let him pass, then
shoot him in the back. Sometimes they would not bother with
the scouts and simply wait it out
for more targets. The forward
scout's life and the lives of the
men in his squad or platoon often
depended upon his spotting the
enemy before the enemy spotted
him. An added difficulty that the
Trailblazers encountered was that
the city was not completely evacuated, perhaps due to its size.
The men made every effort to
The two GIs in the building to the right appear to be reconnoitering the area
avoid placing civilians in more
(Source of photo unknown)
danger than they were already in,
which occasionally resulted in slowing the advance. Nevertheless there were civilian
casualties, which in combat could never be entirely avoided.
Obviously, the enemy could not occupy every building in the city, nor could
the GIs attack and search every building. The riflemen did not always know which
houses and buildings were used for defenses; consequently, it was necessary for them
to enter and clear as many buildings as possible. Sometimes when the men bypassed
a building, the enemy hiding in it held their fire and later hit the GIs from the rear.
That happened more than once as the Company A men worked their way through
Forbach. Many buildings were badly damaged or destroyed by artillery and appeared
unoccupied, but occasionally the cellars could be and were used as bunkers. To clear
the town, initially each squad was assigned one side of a street. Half the squad
assaulted a building, while the other men laid down covering fire. The men on one
side of the street would also provide fire cover for the men advancing on the other
side. Squad leaders usually assigned men to watch and fire on anything that moved
in the upper floors, while the others would attack the lower floors. When assaulting
a building, the men would toss hand grenades in the basements and lower floors and
then bust in while firing their weapons. If there were only civilians in a building,
they would generally hang out a white flag. Sometimes the enemy would hang out
a white flag when he was ready to surrender. That occurred only when he was badly
wounded, out of ammunition, or his situation was hopeless.
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FORBACH
The street and
building-to-building fighting continued until darkness
made it extremely hazardous
for the GIs to continue the
attack. When the men could
no longer see what they
were attacking, the Company made preparations to
hold up for the night and
defend the real estate it paid
so dearly to get. They were
Street fighting through rubble in Forbach, France - (Photo by Garstki)
dog-tired from the grueling
day of storming and fighting for buildings, running through and climbing over
rubble, and from being on the attack for more than a week with no rest. That night
the Company was alerted to expect a major German counterattack as the enemy had
reportedly received reinforcements with armor and self-propelled assault guns. If
there was anything the men did not need at the time, it was a night fight. The
Company prepared itself as well as it could for the impending counterattack. Men
cleaned their weapons, took care of their feet, and posted sentries. Wounded soldiers
who could walk on their own, made their way back to the aid station, but the more
seriously wounded were carried back on liters. After dark the platoon leaders moved
some positions to different locations in order to improve their fields of fire down the
streets.
A short time before midnight, 88mm artillery and nebelwerfer rockets, better
known to the troops as screaming-meemies, started pounding the southeast section
of the city. After a thirty minute bombardment, the counterattack was under way.
The Germans attacked the Trailblazer positions with small arms, grenades, and
panzerfausts, and demonstrated that they had a good fix on some of the GI positions.
The exchange of fire continued periodically through the night. Company A held its
positions in the buildings and the men shot at anything that moved on the dark streets.
During a lull in the attack, the German artillery and screaming-meemies again
pounded the liberated section of the city. Screaming-meemies were extremely
powerful German rockets. They made terrifying, eerie, rasping howls like the legs
of a heavy table being dragged over a marble floor, amplified a thousand times.
Merely the sound of those rockets going through the air, particularly at night, was
enough to send chills up and down an alligator's spine. It was a sound that one did
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FORBACH
not soon forget. The explosions and concussion were terrific. The screamingmeemies were fired from rocket launchers, five at a time in rapid succession.
Whenever the GIs heard one, they knew that four more would quickly follow.
Chow was the usual K and C rations that
the men carried in their pockets and frequently
ate on the run. Whenever the opportunity presented itself, the GIs supplemented their diet with
red wine. They found wine in cellars of vacated
buildings and some was given to them by the
very grateful residents of Forbach. Earlier that
evening an elderly Frenchman came out into the
street while the Third Platoon was firing into
enemy positions. He held up a bottle of wine and
handed it to Sgt. Mario Sbrocco and said that it
was his last bottle of wine and that he had saved
Nebelwerfer - German rocket launcher used to fire five it for the first Americans to pass his house. The
screaming-meemies.
Frenchman was oblivious to the fact that both GIs
and Germans were firing small arms and machine guns on the street.
With the dawn of February 22, the struggle continued for possession of
Forbach. The counterattack during the night was successfully repelled; however, the
enemy resisted more stubbornly than ever. All three battalions continued to pursue
their slow and painful building-to-building advance toward the downtown area. The
primary resistance continued to be strong-points in well situated positions that
commanded a clear view of every square foot the advancing Trailblazers had to
traverse. German troops manning those strong-points seldom surrendered until they
were completely overwhelmed. Mortar and artillery fire continued to come in
sporadically day and night all along the regimental front. For some unknown reason,
the Germans saved their screaming-meemies for night shelling. Perhaps they figured
that the spine chilling sound of the screaming-meemies had a more devastating effect
on the GIs' morale at night. If that were the case, they were dead right. Another
possibly was that they did not want to reveal the locations of their launching sites,
however that probably was not the case as the nebelwerfer launchers were highly
mobile. The defenders also used some assault guns, the usual small arms, automatic
weapons, and many panzerfausts. Casualties continued to mount and the evacuation
of the wounded became more difficult. When a man was down on the street it was
never easy to get him out, and frequently rescue attempts would result in more
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FORBACH
casualties. The unarmed medics continued to do an outstanding job in rendering first
aid to the wounded and helping with their evacuation. Though they did not carry
arms and were unable to return fire, they were often fired on, and like any other foot
soldier, they were the victims of mortar and artillery fire. No one will ever know how
many lives they saved while putting their own on the line. There was not an
infantryman alive who would not take his hat off to the Combat Medic.
Much of the fighting in the battle for Forbach was at very close range. The
men of Company A fought in residential districts, in cemeteries, in the larger
buildings of the commercial section of town, in the town square, and in the railroad
yard. Shortly after entering the city, Lt. Brewer's platoon had to cross a cemetery.
About half way through the cemetery, the advancing GIs were raked with fire from
a machine gun that was set up in the shelter of some massive tomb stones. The tomb
stones and monuments provided good cover from small arms fire. By crawling
behind the tomb stones and elevated graves, the forward squads made their way
undetected to within a few yards of the enemy machine gun. With the help of a few
well placed 60mm mortar shots, the enemy gun was silenced and Lloyd Finney's
squad overran the position. In retaliation, the enemy started lobbing mortar shells
into the cemetery behind the Third Platoon GIs, compelling them to either continue
forward or fall back. Lt. Brewer calculated that while they were in the cemetery, the
men had a better chance against machine guns than against mortars. He ordered two
of his squads to move forward, Finney's squad on the right and Lowry's squad on the
left. In short rushes between tomb stones and monuments, the squads moved rapidly
through the cemetery and took cover in two bombed-out houses that were in such a
state of destruction that it was understandable why the enemy was not defending
them. There were no Germans in the demolished buildings but they could tell from
the fire they received that there were several enemy troops in a building between the
two squads. For several minutes, Finney and Lowry's men exchanged fire with the
Germans in the house between them and it became apparent that they were in a
standoff situation and rifle fire alone from those distances was not going to get them
out.
They were too close to the enemy to call for artillery and they did not want to
pull back and give up what little cover they had. Lowry sent Pfc Carlos Leija to the
platoon CP to get the Weapons Platoon to direct 60mm mortar fire on the building
for exactly five minutes. The stone building was too solid for their shells to penetrate
but they would keep the Germans pinned down and unable to observe while the GIs
prepared to make their next move. Lowry then split his squad and left five men to
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FORBACH
continue firing into the windows. He took three men and went out through the front
of the rubble while the GIs in both houses and the mortars kept the Germans pretty
well pinned. The instant the mortar shelling stopped, they ran to the building, threw
hand grenades in a front window, and burst in firing their rifles. Eight Wehrmacht
soldiers, three of them wounded, stood in a corner with their hands raised and
shouted: "KAMARAD KAMARAD!" Others escaped out a rear exit. Their machine
guns were still in place at the windows from which they were firing just moments
before. Pfc Matla, tossed a grenade up the staircase and took a man with him to
clear out the second floor. Meanwhile, a GI was about to toss a grenade down the
staircase into the cellar when one of the Germans shouted something like, "Halt!
halt! civil!" Five scared French civilians came up from below. When they indicated
that there was no one else in the basement, the grenade was tossed down the staircase
and exploded. To their surprise, the squad had captured a German command post
with its radio and telephone communications intact. A valise containing several
maps, charts, and miscellaneous other papers was laying on a table. The prisoners
were searched, and lined up facing a wall with their hands behind their heads. One
officer had a small coin purse in his pocket that contained some old German coins
and several small 25 calibre shells. That led the GIs to again search their prisoners
for a concealed weapon to match the shells, but none was found. Mario Sbrocco,
Finney's assistant squad leader, amused himself by introducing the Germans on the
other end of the telephone line to some very vivid and colorful English while
expressing his opinion of Adolf Hitler. He then gave them a similar oration in
Italian, and perhaps would have done the same in German if he had been able to
speak the language. After a few minutes of listening to Sbrocco, there should have
been no doubt at the German Headquarters that one of their command posts had been
overrun and captured.
A pot of potato soup was cooking on a coal burning stove in the kitchen. As
tempting as it was, the men left it for the civilians who were more desperate for
something hot to eat than the GIs. Later while moving through the city, the Trailblazers learned that the townspeople were desperately short of food. One lady told
Steiner in German, "Thank God you Americans are here. We are all out of
potatoes." Steiner did not have the heart to tell her that the GIs had no potatoes but
handed her a K ration, which she looked at suspiciously. He finally opened it for her,
so that she could see that it was really food.
Finny and Lowry deployed their men, secured the three buildings, and
prepared to continue the attack. Shortly, Lt. Brewer showed up with Davis and his
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FORBACH
squad. Lowry gave Brewer the German briefcase with the maps and papers and
turned the prisoners over to Steiner, who spoke German. Without wasting any time,
the squad leaders took off with their men and continued the attack toward the next
buildings. After capturing the German command post, the men were eager and ready
to get the Germans on the run. As long as the Germans were being pushed, the more
difficult it was for them to stop, regroup and set up new defensive positions.
Company A continued its slow and determined drive through the city. The
three rifle platoons were on line, each fighting house to house down different streets,
with the Weapons Platoon in close support. The machine gun and mortar squads
were kept busy firing at targets pointed out by the riflemen.
The platoon leaders kept the platoons on the move employing what Lt. Brewer
called the "leap frog" attack. While one squad was attacking a building, another
squad would lay down covering fire on the street. Meanwhile another squad would
watch and fire at targets in the upper floors of the buildings. Once a squad captured
and occupied a house, its men would lay down fire so the next squad could attack
another building. In that manner each squad changed its role in the attack every time
they took a building. Lt. Brewer's "leap frog" system worked well for attacking
houses and small buildings, but larger multi-storied buildings required more than a
squad to take and search out. Usually two squads would enter and search out a
building, while one squad would cover the street and upper floors of the nearby
buildings. In those instances, part of the supporting squad would take cover on the
opposite side of the street to get a better view of the front of the building.
After taking and occupying a large five-story building, the Third Platoon was
held up while attacking an adjacent bank building. The Germans had securely
barricaded the ground floor doors and windows from the inside, while they laid down
a blanket of fire at the GIs as they approached the bank. The bank was about ten feet
from the building occupied by the Third Platoon and there was no way to get over the
rooftops. They would have to break into the massive front doors, but first they had
to neutralize the enemy troops that were firing at them from the upper floors. Lt.
Brewer told Finney to send a man with a grenade launcher across the street and find
a place where he could fire grenades into the upper windows. Meanwhile Lowry's
squad threw grenades into the upper floor of the bank from the adjacent building.
That method of attack did not prove to be too effective as the Germans disappeared
from the windows and reappeared and fired from others. Lt. Brewer sent his runner,
Pfc Ted Kucmerosky, to tell Lowry that he was sending up a flame thrower and he
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FORBACH
hoped to hell he knew how to use it. Brewer's plan was for Lowry to set the upper
floors of the bank on fire with the flame thrower, while Finney's men fired a bazooka
round at the front door from the building across the street. Simultaneously, Dean
Mayer's machine gun squad sprayed the upper floors with machine gun fire. As soon
as the door was blown in, Davis' squad was set to rush in. When the flame thrower
arrived, the men got it in place a few feet from the window, and pumped flaming
napalm (thick jelled gasoline) through the window into the bank. More of the
flaming jelly seemed to flow down the outside of the bank building than went inside
but there was a lot of black smoke billowing out of its windows. In the process, some
flaming napalm fell inside the building with the GIs and started a damn hot fire in
that building as well as in the bank. The top floor was like a ballroom with high
ceilings. Draperies hung from the ceiling to the floor. When the flames leaped up the
drapes, it was high time for the squad to vacate the room and find a cooler place from
which to engage the enemy. Finney's bazooka man successfully blew a hole in the
front door and Mayer's men poured machine gun fire into the upper windows. Before
Davis' squad could get in the bank, a white flag appeared in a window. Seven
Wehrmacht soldiers came through the hole in the splintered front door and climbed
over the rubble with their hands up. They apparently preferred to become prisoners
rather than be roasted alive. Steiner sent the prisoners to the rear and the platoon left
the burning buildings and pushed on over the rubble-strewn cobblestone streets.
Broken glass, stone, bricks, splintered timbers, pieces of roofing slate, and
corpses of dead civilians and Germans littered the streets of Forbach. More than
ever, the musty damp air, acrid stench of gunsmoke and the foul odor of decomposing corpses was overwhelming.
By early afternoon the Company had slowly progressed through the streets and
was nearing the center of town and the main square. At the square several streets
converged on the main east-west artery, the Rue Nationale (Metz Highway). There
the enemy was well established in cellars commanding clear fields of fire down all
the intersecting streets. As the GIs approached the square, they were met with a rain
of machine gun bullets, sniper fire and mortar shells. The closer the men got to Rue
Nationale, the more intense and bitter the fighting became.
As a squad of Third Platoon riflemen approached the square and Rue
Nationale, snipers succeeded in pinning down the forward scouts so they could
neither advance nor withdraw. After some delay, Brewer sent Steiner forward by
way of the rear of the buildings to see what he could do to get things moving. Steiner
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FORBACH
found the squad leader and asked him what they were up against. Lowry told him
that machine gun positions and snipers were in the buildings facing the square from
the opposite other side of the main street (Rue Nationale). Steiner and Lowry were
standing inside the doorway of a large commercial building and when Steiner started
to look toward the square, a
sniper's shot rang out and struck
the marble entrance behind him,
missing his nose by only a few
inches. The German bullet hit
the marble and dropped harm
lessly to the floor. Steiner's first
comment was, "Goddammit Lowry, every time I get near you I get
shot at!" After that familiar remark that Lowry had heard from
him on other occasions, Steiner
said to “hold on, we’ll get some
Forbach, France (Photo source unknown)
big stuff,”then went out the rear
door and back to the radioman to secure artillery and heavy (81mm) mortar support.
Fifteen minutes later, 105mm artillery shells screeched over the mens' heads and
crashed into the enemy occupied buildings, then came a few 81mm mortar shells that
burst in front of the lower floors. The shells exploded so close to the GIs that they
hardly heard them going over, but they felt the concussion of the blasts. The barrage
lasted only a few minutes and the moment it stopped the GIs, who were poised and
ready to go, dashed across the square. There was very little time to throw their
grenades before bursting into the buildings with rifles blazing. At last they had a
foothold on the north side of the street. With the continued mortar support, the men
fought their way east on Rue Nationale. They captured building after building and
by nightfall all three of Company A's rifle platoons converged at the town square.
The artillery barrages did not destroy the enemy, but temporarily drove them underground, affording the infantrymen an opportunity to move in close and destroy them
as they surfaced.
Most of the buildings along the Rue Nationale were retail stores with the plate
glass windows blown out. Above many stores were dwellings of the proprietors and
on the upper floors were apartments. In some stores, merchandise had been jolted off
the shelves and strewn about the floors. In others, proprietors were attempting to
protect what remained of their assets. Two young ladies and an old Frenchman came
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FORBACH
up from the basement of a shell damaged stationery store and begged Lowry not to
let the soldiers loot their store. "Please, no loot! no loot!" they begged over and over
again. Lowry had Pfc Irvin Toups, a Cajun from Thibodaux, Louisiana who spoke
fluent French, assure them that American soldiers had no interest in looting. Only
looking for Boche soldats (German soldiers).
Before leaving the square to push north to the railroad tracks that divided the
Town Square in the center of Forbach after it was cleared of enemy soldiers. Lt. Brewer’s sign “IDAHO AVE” (white) appears on
the street sign in the lower right corner. (Photo by Garstki)
town, Lt. Bob Brewer posted a sign "IDAHO AVE" on Rue Nationale at the town
square. Later, a Signal Corps photograph of Brewer's sign appeared in the Armed
Forces Publication, Stars and Stripes.
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FORBACH
After crossing the square, the Third Platoon continued clearing the buildings
on the north side of the street to the end of the block, then turned left (North) until
they got to the railroad tracks and the Forbach Railroad Station. The only resistance
between Rue Nationale and the railroad were a few snipers who harassed the lead
squad. The tracks and adjacent railroad yards were about three-fourths of the way
through the City and they provided an imposing barrier to the advancing Trailblazers. It
appeared that the enemy had withdrawn its
main forces to the northernmost section of the
city and would make their next stand at the
railroad. Except for a few disabled freight
cars, the station in front of the main line and
the marshalling yard beyond appeared
deserted. There were no signs of enemy soldiers, but the men did not take that to mean
that there were none lurking about as there
were many places for them to hide. Lt. Brewer
detailed Lowry's squad to establish two outposts a block apart in buildings across the
street from the railroad station. Initially the
outposts had no radio or telephone contact
with the Platoon or Company CP, but
depended on runners for communications.
Brewer deployed the other squads on Rue
Lt. Robert Brewer at the town square in Forbach
Nationale.
The CO ordered the platoon leaders to set up temporary defensive positions
on both sides of Rue Nationale and as usual to prepare for a possible counterattack.
After sentries were posted, weapons and equipment had to be cleaned, and the feet
had to be cared for. Unlike fighting in the forests and mountains, the men did not
have to dig in every time they stopped and they were able to find more shelter from
the elements. Mopping up operations were to start at the first light of day since some
isolated German positions and snipers were by-passed as the GIs advanced through
the city. No one had any idea as to the number of Germans that remained lurking in
the dark city streets, alleys and vacant buildings. During the night German artillery,
mortar fire, and screaming-meemies continued to pound the Trailblazer positions.
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Night patrols were dispatched across the railroad into the enemy-held section
of Forbach to attempt to find the locations and strength of enemy positions. Night
reconnaissance in a city was extremely dangerous and tricky because there were so
many places for the enemy to hide. One patrol, including Sgts. Herb O'Banion and
Dean Mayer, chose to go through the basements of the buildings in order to be off
the streets as much as possible. They climbed through the narrow cellar windows on
one side of the buildings and out the windows on the other side. While making one
such entry, Dean Mayer landed on something soft that he thought was a sleeping bag.
A stench hit him and he realized that he had landed in a bin of rotten potatoes. The
odor was so bad that for the rest of the mission the men thought that Mayer was
going to give away their position. Those men, especially Mayer, took a lot of ribbing
over the "Rotten Potato Incident."
The following morning, the rifle
platoons set out to clear any enemy resistance between Rue Nationale and the
outposts on the railroad. There were German defenders in some of the buildings,
whose sniper fire frequently held them up,
but before noon, the enemy resistance
south of the railroad was neutralized.
Company A captured more than twenty
German soldiers between Rue Nationale
and the outposts. When the entire Company reached the row of buildings across
the street from the railroad, it was prepared and poised to attack. About an hour
before H hour, Company A and the other
assault companies were ordered to stand
fast and not pursue the enemy at that time.
While the 276th Infantry was liberating Forbach, the 274th Infantry, advancPfc Ignace Matla and Pfc Merrill Moore
ing through the forests and mountain
ridges toward Stiring-Wendel east of Forbach, met strong enemy opposition.(Map
11.pg. 180). So as not to create a wider gap between the regiments, the 276th
Infantry was ordered to hold fast until the sectors of the front were realigned and the
gaps between the units were closed. To hasten the closure of the gap, Company E,
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276th Infantry was taken off the line in Forbach and sent to the mountain ridges to
reinforce the 274th Infantry.
The men of Company A spent the afternoon of February 23 establishing and
strengthening defensive positions in buildings between Rue Nationale and the
railroad. During the next few days, the men mopped up most of the remaining
pockets of enemy resistance on the south side of Forbach. Except for mortar and
artillery fire, it was safe to establish supply lines to within a block or two of the
railroad.
The weather remained cold but not below freezing, which was far more
bearable than the ten below zero weather of January. Most of the mornings were
foggy, the days were gray and overcast, and the ground was wet from the sudden
thaw and recent rains. Inclement weather and frequent rain continued to be the cause
of a great deal of misery for the troops. Stale gunsmoke that settled in the narrow
streets, alleys and passageways between the buildings, emitted an undescribable,
nauseating stench. There were still cases of trench foot, most everyone caught cold,
and some were evacuated with the wounded due to stomach disorders and pneumonia. Sgt. Robert Wood, who was evacuated at Wingen with frozen feet and later
returned to the Company, was again evacuated with an infection and blood poisoning
in one foot.
In spite of the steady arrival of replacements, the Company continued to be
under strength. Reinforcements never arrived in sufficient numbers to offset the
vacancies created by the casualties. While the rate of casualties remained high,
fortunately the rate of battle deaths dropped considerably from what it was at Wingen
and Les Vosges Mountains. The Company was also short two officers and nine or
ten sergeants. Half of the squad leaders did not have assistant squad leaders. Most
squads were made up of nearly all new men and included very few men who went
overseas on the USS West Point. Lowry's squad had one experienced scout, Pfc
Carlos Leija, one experienced rifleman, Pfc Don Dubose, and eight new replacements. In a ten-day period, Jury received twenty replacements in the Second Platoon.
They all arrived while the Company was fighting in Forbach. During that period he
lost his platoon guide, John Haller, and two squad leaders, Edward Skalitzky and
William Schmitz. The replacements were more than welcome but the remaining
sergeants had no time to indoctrinate them properly to the cruel facts of life on the
front. That general shortage of manpower was typical throughout the Company.
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Replacement troops came mainly from two sources. Some were recent
arrivals to the ETO from Infantry Replacement Training Centers and others came
from other branches of the Army. Most were alert and willing to do their best
including the transferees from other branches even though for many it was a letdown
to be transferred to the Infantry from safe rear echelon outfits. For others it was
purely voluntary. When the Battle of the Bulge erupted in December 1944, many
Antiaircraft Artillerymen and others volunteered for front-line duty. One was Sgt.
Wilbert Kollenbaum, a Weapons Platoon squad leader. He made the invasions of
North Africa, Sicily, Salerno and Southern France. When the Germans broke
through in Belgium, he requested a transfer to the Infantry. There were, however,
some goldbricks whom the men often suspected were transferred from the rear
echelon to the front lines for disciplinary reasons. That was supposedly contrary to
Army policy, but everyone knew that it happened. The fighting men resented those
incidents and considered them insults to the combat infantryman who was proud of
his comrades and proud of his outfit. To even suggest that the infantry was a place
to send "fuckups" from the rear was deplorable and totally disgusting to brave and
honorable men whose lives continuously depended upon the integrity of their
comrades. The combat infantrymen had neither the time nor the patience to attempt
to make soldiers out of guys who could not be useful in the rear for non-combat duty.
Company A's position in Forbach remained relatively unchanged until March
3. The fighting was mainly an exchange of rifle, machine gun and mortar fire across
the railroad yards. Most of the time was devoted to maintaining the positions,
manning and moving outposts, and continuous active patrolling. To keep abreast of
enemy activities and troop movements, reconnaissance patrols were sent across the
railroad yard into the enemy section of the city every night.
Some men who were not seriously wounded returned to the Company. T/Sgt.
Armstrong who was hit near the hospital eight days earlier, rejoined his platoon and
Sgt. "Stupe" Granger who was hit and played dead in a ditch at Wingen also returned
to the First Platoon. Granger's speedy recovery and return was a real surprise to
everyone. Neither the Nips nor the Germans could take him out of the war.
During those few days, enemy patrols were also active. Heavy artillery shells
hit Forbach, both day and night, and screaming-meemies came in regularly. On the
brighter side, Pupinski and Scopp began to show up quite often with hot chow. They
managed to get to each platoon about every other day, dependent on how active the
German artillery was. It was uncanny how the incoming mail would arrive at the
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time the men were ready to chow-down. Some snipers remained active in various
parts of the city and were difficult to flush out. Many of them were fanatics who
eventually ended up dead, but while they were active they were hazards to be
reckoned with. On several occasions civilians asked for weapons and offered to help
seek out and kill the snipers, but no one wanted to take the chance that a volunteer
was not a Nazi sympathizer. Sometimes Frenchmen led GIs up staircases, over
rooftops, and through buildings to enable them to get to positions where they could
take out the menacing snipers. In a city like Forbach, it was easy for snipers to
remain hidden from the GIs but it was unlikely that they could hide from the French
Citizens for any length of time.
For several days a company of infantry from the Lorraine Division of the First
French Army was attached to the First Battalion and was assigned to a sector on the
right flank of Company A. Some of those French soldiers were previously engaged
in combat against the hated Boche in the Colmar Pocket area of the Alsace, while
others had experienced little or no combat. In Forbach, they were engaged in
clearing buildings and patrolling, and were extremely eager to drive the Germans out
of their homeland. Sometimes their over zealousness led to disaster. On their first
daylight patrol seven riflemen attempted to cross the railroad yards and penetrate
enemy territory in front of Company A's outpost positions. They did not attempt to
seek cover while they advanced and the patrol was soon discovered and ambushed.
They were forced to withdraw under cover of fire laid down by GIs who were
manning an outpost overlooking the railroad. Fortunately Matla, Toups and Dubose
observed the French patrol start across the tracks and could help when they got in
trouble. One French soldier was killed and three were wounded in the bold attempt
at a daylight patrol. The next time they tried to cross into no man’s land, they did it
at night.
On March 2, elements of the 274th Infantry were successful in capturing the
mountain ridges east of Forbach, and the units on each flank of the 276th Infantry
were on line. The Regiment was alerted to go into the attack the following morning.
That night Captain Matthews assembled the platoon leaders and filled them in on the
attack plans for the next morning. The three rifle platoons were to jump off together.
The Third Platoon would be responsible for maintaining contact with Company K on
the left and the First Platoon would be responsible for maintaining contact with
Company C on the right. Considerable scouting and patrolling had been done for the
past few nights so the platoon leaders and platoon sergeants had a fair idea of the
layout of the buildings in their respective sectors. Each platoon was given two or
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three rows of buildings and houses on the north side of the railroad to clear of enemy
troops. That night between eleven and midnight, Jury walked to the railroad to take
one last look at what they could expect in the morning. He also wanted to figure out
how his platoon could best reach its initial objective. There was a lot of open space
and very few places to take cover between the line of departure and the buildings
beyond the rail yard. When he got back his squad leaders and "Doc" Sykes were
waiting for him with six new replacements that had just arrived. He sure did not
relish the idea of going into the attack with that many new men whom no one had an
opportunity to get to know.
The morning of March 3 was
foggy, cold and a light rain was falling.
The line of departure was the railroad
bisecting the city. At 0800 the 882nd
Field Artillery Battalion laid in a heavy
concentration of 105s in the area north of
the railroad yards. The Regiment, with
the company of French forces attached to
the First Battalion, stormed across the line
of departure at 0815. Their mission was
to occupy the remainder of Forbach and
continue the attack to the Division objective, which was the high ground overlooking the Saar River and the City of
Saarbrucken five miles distant. Company
A and Company C were the assault companies for the First Battalion.
The
French company helped to clear part of
the city next to the First Battalion's right
boundary. Riflemen of Company A entered and captured houses in their respective sectors less than ten minutes after
crossing the line of departure. Jury's platoon ran across the tracks through machine
gun and mortar fire and took four houses without losing a man; then all hell broke
loose. One 88mm barrage after another zeroed in on the company. The men took
cover, secured themselves in the houses and prepared to continue the attack before
the enemy could initiate a counterattack. The Second Platoon attempted to get out
of the houses and away from the artillery bursts, but ran head on into two strategically
located machine guns that covered the open space between the rows of houses. The
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machine guns were about 100 yards to their front. In an attempt to get away from the
88s and also bypass the machine gun positions, Jury moved his platoon out of the
houses and up a street to the right of his assigned sector. They no sooner got away
from the houses when the 88s bombarded them, making direct hits on three houses.
While the German artillery was shelling the houses, Jury maneuvered his men behind
the machine guns and silenced them from their rear with grenades.
After crossing the railroad tracks, Lt. Jenkins moved his machine gun squads
forward to enhance the Second Platoon's fire power. Sgt. Dean Mayer, machine gun
Squad Leader, and Pfc Frank Ingram ran up a street and into an unoccupied house
to set up a 30-caliber machine gun position. Seeing Germans on the other side of the
street, they slammed the door just when a panzerfaust exploded in the doorway and
threw both men down a flight of stairs. Ingram came out without a scratch but Mayer
took a piece of shrapnel in the shoulder and bruised a knee. Ingram patched up his
wound as best he could then proceeded to get the machine gun set up. Mayer was
evacuated that evening; however, his wound was not serious and he was able to
rejoin the Company a few weeks later.
Company K and Lt. Brewer's Third Platoon went through a railroad underpass
and met small arms and automatic weapons fire from straight up the road. Land
mines prevented the attached tank platoon from passing through the underpass and
an engineer mine platoon was summoned to clear the way for the tankers. Attacking
through the underpass reminded the men of the deathtrap Companies B and I
encountered at Wingen, and no one was very eager for a repeat of that disaster.
Besides small arms fire, the enemy greeted the assault companies with plenty of
artillery fire. Lt. Doenges called for artillery support but it was not very effective
against the extremely well-placed positions of the enemy defense. Company C to the
right of Company A was pinned down by automatic weapons, and elements of two
of its platoons had not gotten across the railroad yard. The French forces slowly
advanced across the railroad and reached their objective and occupied a few
buildings in their sector. Company K to the left was making no more headway than
was Company A. Both companies continued to receive intense automatic fire from
the basements of buildings and were stopped dead in their tracks. Several men of
both companies were wounded in and around the underpass. Communications
between the companies, and between the companies and battalion, were frequently
down as the wires were repeatedly severed by the artillery and mortar bombardments.
Two tanks finally got through the underpass but were lost to land mines shortly after
they emerged on the north side. Evening came and Company A was still held up by
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machine gun and artillery fire. The Company also sustained many more casualties
and encountered a great deal of difficulty in getting them back to the rear. The cries:
"HELP! HELP!" "AID MAN" were heard repeatedly. As darkness approached,
the enemy fire subsided and the platoons posted all-around security and made the
necessary preparations to hold and defend. Everyone was cold, wet and exhausted
but did not need to be reminded to shoot anything in front of them that moved. They
checked and cleaned their weapons, changed their socks, and cracked the C rations.
They fully expected a counterattack, but fortunately nothing more than probing
actions took place, all of which were successfully repelled.
After dark the last of the wounded were taken back across the railroad tracks
and then to the battalion aid station for care and evacuation. The men never ceased
to be amazed at how much punishment the human body could take and yet survive.
Some wounded men were in such horrible condition that no one expected them to
survive, but they were patched up and sent to the rear. Some were cut up so badly
that they were bleeding from a dozen places through rips and tears in their uniforms.
If they even looked like they were breathing, they were placed on liters and sent back
to a clearing station.
The battle for Forbach resumed at
first light the following morning with four
assault companies on line. Companies A
and K were again side by side in the center
of the Regimental Sector. The going was
nearly impossible because the enemy was
deeply entrenched in well fortified basements. The Artillery Forward Observer
coordinated the fire of all batteries of the
884th Field Artillery Battalion which laid
in devastating artillery fire on the German
81mm mortar crew in Forbach (Source of photo unknown)
positions, enabling Companies A and K to
finally move forward. Like in similar situations earlier, the artillery fire did not
destroy the enemy because of the thickness of the stone walls on the buildings used
as bunkers. Shelling only served to drive the enemy underground and when it
stopped, the GIs took advantage of a very brief opportunity to rush the buildings
harboring the defenders. With small arms and hand grenades, supported by machine
guns and bazookas, the men chipped away at the German defenses. It was an
agonizing process that depended upon coordination, speed, accuracy, and a lot of
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luck. Attempting to run from house to house on rubble strewn, wet cobblestone
streets while firing into the enemy positions was extremely difficult and a physical
drain. At times, the progress was painfully slow. Frequently the tank support was
ineffective because of heavily-mined areas and the difficulty of the infantry-tank
teams to maneuver on some narrow streets. Mine clearing crews were exposed to
small arms fire and several men were wounded and killed trying to locate and disarm
the mines to make way for the tanks.
Occasionally in the heat of battle when it was not possible for the men of one
unit to have visual contact with the men of another, the coordination of their efforts
would be thwarted. Streets and lanes of French towns frequently ran in irregular
patterns that were seldom parallel. Attacking infantrymen rarely had detailed maps
at their disposal and units would sometimes converge when they least expected.
Such was the case in a north section of Forbach when the CO ordered Jenkins and
Harmon to move the Weapons Platoon up a small stream bed to set up machine gun
and mortar positions near a row of houses. The houses were directly in the path of
the Jury's Platoon which was advancing from a different angle. The enemy had the
stream bed covered and saw Harmon's scouts as they moved up the draw. In a
vicious firefight, the Weapons Platoon was temporarily pinned down, two of
Harmon's men were wounded and Pfc Walter McDaniel was killed. When Harmon
was getting one of his machine guns in position to fire up the draw, Jury was moving
his platoon forward to attack the houses, unaware that both platoons were going for
the same objective. He ordered two of his squads to open fire and prepare to rush the
enemy and sent the third squad around the right flank to strike from that position.
Meanwhile Harmon's machine gun opened fire up the draw spraying the enemy
positions and the area where two Second Platoon squads were about to enter. After
a short exchange of fire the Germans withdrew, Harmon's fire stopped and both
platoons moved up. It was a close call.
In the early afternoon, Company A again lost telephonic communication with
the others companies and with Battalion so the Company Commander had to depend
exclusively on the use of runners to communicate with the other units. The Third
Battalion, on the Company's left, encountered the same communication problems.
German artillery and mortars severed wires faster than wire crews could repair them.
As the attack ground to a halt, the forward companies were ordered to pull back to
the vicinity of the railroad so that a concentration of 155mm artillery could be fired
on enemy strong points. The men listened with great pleasure to the howling of the
big shells passing over their heads, and to the terrific blasts up ahead. 155mm
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artillery shells were powerful "Outgoing Mail" that packed plenty of wallop. When
the shelling ceased, Companies A and K launched another coordinated attack from
the railroad tracks. The softening-up of the enemy caused by the massive explosions
from the big guns enabled the second attack to be more successful than its earlier
attempt. Engineers came right in to clear the area of mines so the anti-tank guns
could move forward, and by late afternoon the railroad underpass and part of the road
beyond were cleared of mines. The Company continued the attack from door to door,
building to building, and block to block toward the University area. It was the same
tedious and dangerous business of rushing buildings, throwing hand grenades in
windows and cellar embrasures, climbing and stumbling over rubble, and bursting
into buildings. Frequently the enemy would greet the rushing GIs with potato masher
grenades, compelling the attackers to scatter and take cover in doorways, gutters, or
whatever shelter was available. Sometimes, in a split second, a GI would scoop up
the grenade and throw it back to the enemy or more often than not just throw it as far
as he could.
Company A, with three rifle platoons on line and the Weapons Platoon in
close support, continued northward through Forbach. The First and Second Platoons,
coordinating their advance, took house after house and all the while kept physical
contact with Company C to the right. Just before dusk the Company reached the
University area of the city. Captain Matthews ordered the platoons to hold up their
advance for the night, set up defenses, and prepare to continue the attack the
following morning. By that time the men were totally exhausted from many days of
close combat in the miserable cold rain. They were bruised and cut from running and
falling in rubble and broken glass that littered the pot-holed cobblestone streets.
Scaling and jumping from the many stone walls that separated the houses and
buildings did nothing to comfort their bruised bodies and aching backs. When they
settled in and established all around security, the men set about cleaning their
weapons and taking care of their tired cold feet. A change of socks came out from
under the men's shirts and the wet ones were tucked away next to the skin to dry out.
Each platoon sent details a short distance to the rear where they met John Welte and
Lloyd Ramagos who had brought up two loads of ammunition and K rations. The
drivers also brought six replacements for the Company. They quickly unloaded the
trailers and placed the litter cases across the hoods and backs of the jeeps. Welte and
Ramagos took the wounded men back to the aid station, while the replacements were
brought up to join the Company. The new men were visibly shaken up when they
saw so many wounded soldiers going the other way. The sad part was that in a few
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FORBACH
hours some of those new replacements would become casualties themselves. They
never expected to be introduced to bloody combat in that manner.
One replacement was the Brit who was kicked out of the outfit three weeks
earlier because his squad leader and platoon sergeant found him unfit for front-line
duty. The man had screwed up just about everything he was ordered to do, including
desertion and drawing unnecessary fire by lighting a cigarette at night. Not only was
he back, but 1st/Sgt. Vernon Wilson assigned him to the same squad that got rid of
him earlier. The officers and NCOs always looked forward to getting new
reinforcements, but Brewer, Steiner and Lowry were not pleased to see that particular
one back. They were all damned pissed-off!
At 0600 the following morning, March 5, Welte and Scopp came out with hot
chow which was a welcome surprise. That morning started off with the men feasting
on an old Army standby, SOS (Shit on the shingle) and hot coffee. SOS was creamed
chipped beef on toast. It was often said with authority that a skillful cook could feed
a hundred men with only a pound of chipped beef, two gallons of water, powdered
milk, cornstarch, flour, and a few loaves of toasted bread. As much as the men used
to complain and joke about SOS back in the States, on the fighting front they it was
a rare treat.
At 0700 the First Battalion with all three rifle companies abreast, launched
an attack on the University area of Forbach. Company A pushed steadily northward
to the outskirts of the city and met only moderate but harassing resistance. The area
was cleared of all organized enemy opposition at 0945 and the battle for Forbach was
virtually over.
The liberation of Forbach was solely a 276th Infantry action. Company A, by
forging its way through the heart of the city, played a major role in that action, but
again paid a big price. More than forty-five infantrymen were wounded and six men
were killed. Some young riflemen saw their first combat at Oeting and Forbach,
earned their Combat Infantry Badge, became casualties, and were evacuated. Sadly,
those men were not around long enough for the men in their platoons to even learn
their names.
Company A men killed at Forbach were: Pfc William M Klaeren, Pfc
Duncan O Lee, Sgt. Erman L Lyles, Pfc Milton M Martin, Pfc Walter O
McDaniel, and Pfc John H Wagoner.
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Like many other men of Company A before them, those brave combat infantrymen
made the supreme sacrifice.
Forbach, France after the city was liberated by the 276th Infantry
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13. FORAY IN THE FOREST
Before the GIs of Company A cleared the last houses on the northern outskirts
of Forbach, Captain Matthews ordered the platoon leaders to forge ahead and not
give the Germans an opportunity to stop and dig in. Accordingly, the liberation of
Forbach did nothing to slow the attack that had gained momentum that morning. The
men did not stop at the edge of the city but continued to pursue the enemy into the
Forbach Forest north of the city.
The Company formed a skirmish line on both sides of an unimproved road.
Armstrong's platoon was on the right, Brewer's platoon was on the left and the other
two platoons were in support. Each of the forward platoons had four scouts out
about fifty yards in front of their squads. Other than being slippery and muddy, the
hills north of Forbach were more gentle than the rugged mountains of Les Vosges.
The enemy resistance was mainly a series of delaying actions in which they took full
advantage of the terrain features that were in their favor with occasional artillery fire.
Encounters with enemy infantrymen were mostly short lived and over soon after a
few 60mm mortar shells were directed on their positions. The dense woods and high
ground made it possible for the Germans to maneuver about and set up temporary
defense positions and ambushes. Rain continued to fall throughout the day, and in
addition to the roads being muddy, they were heavily mined. Artillery shells
occasionally burst in the trees over the heads of the advancing GIs, bringing down
the usual splinters and broken branches with the shrapnel.
Besides land mines and anti-personnel mines, the Germans left in their wake
many ingenious booby traps. They stretched sturdy steel wires (similar to piano wire)
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FORAY IN THE FOREST
across the roadway four or five feet above the ground, securely fastened to the trees
on each side of the road. Their purpose was to decapitate the drivers and passengers
riding in jeeps or other open vehicles. To protect the men in the vehicles, each jeep
was equipped with a vertical five-foot length of three-inch angle iron that was
securely braced and welded to center of the front bumper and frame. The sharp front
edge of the angle iron was intended to snap the wire before the GIs lost their heads.
Abandoned vehicles were booby-trapped so that explosive charges would detonate
by merely opening a door or touching a control. So as to avoid unnecessary
casualties, the sergeants frequently reminded the newer replacements not to touch any
German equipment that was laying around. Dynamite charges were placed at the
base of trees so that when detonated, the trees fell across the roads and delayed the
advance of pursuing vehicles.
Early in the afternoon the Third Platoon came upon a prison compound used
to confine slave laborers who were forced to work in a nearby coal mine. The
concentration camp was virtually deserted; however, in their hasty departure, the
Nazis left a single prisoner in one of many filthy bunks. The man was so emaciated
and starved that he was unable to move or speak and was very near death. The
barracks were filthy and the stench so nauseating, that the GIs could hardly bear to
enter the buildings. Jury discovered some large vats of thin green soup that were still
warm. It was the first time that the men of Company A witnessed the deplorable way
the Nazis could treat their fellow human beings. Sgts. Steiner and Lowry wanted to
burn the place but time would not permit. They had to get on with pursuing the
enemy, but the men could not get the haunting filthy place out of their minds. The
Germans did not attempt to defend or hold the concentration camp. They left the
camp without putting up a fight but continued their resistance in the Forbach Forest.
Perhaps none wanted to be captured anywhere near the place. The GIs were unable
to discover how the Germans had moved their prisoners or where they had taken
them.
Late that afternoon, the Third Platoon's forward scout spotted a German
machine gun position directly to their front. Without the enemy gunners seeing him,
Pfc Carlos Leija took cover and gave a hand signal to his squad leader. While he kept
a sharp lookout on the German position, Lowry moved forward to join his scout.
Leija whispered that he could move in close enough to take out the machine gun if
given the chance. Lowry was concerned that there were other Germans in the area,
so he told Leija to hold off until he got the squad close enough to give him some
cover. As he was moving the squad up, Leija crawled closer to the machine gun.
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FORAY IN THE FOREST
The machine gunners were apparently concentrating on the road and were not
watching the forest west of the road. Without making a sound, Leija got within a few
yards of the Germans and threw a hand grenade into the position. All other riflemen
in the squad opened fire and there was nothing left of the menacing machine gun
position but three kaput Germans. They saw no other German positions in the
immediate area nor did the grenade and rifle fire attract any other enemy fire.
Apparently the gun position was only intended to delay the advance of American
troops that were expected to use roadway. Until they were sure that no other
Germans were around, Lt. Brewer kept the platoon deployed while Davis, Finney and
Lowry each sent scouts out to reconnoiter the area. Armstrong moved the First
Platoon abreast of the Third Platoon and deployed his squads to the right of the road.
Jury's Platoon moved further to the right to maintain contact with Company C. The
scouts returned at dark and reported that there was no evidence of enemy troops in
the immediate area so the Company dug in for the night. The ground was rocky and
wet, but the men were thankful that they did not have to dig through frozen soil.
There was very little rest for the men that night because many of them were engaged
in active and aggressive patrolling. Captain Matthews dispatched patrols to attempt
to find out where the Germans were establishing their next line of defense. As usual
those positions were difficult to locate on a dark overcast night. Ollie Davis returned
to the Third Platoon and reported that his men heard the Germans digging-in about
a quarter of a mile to the north but he was unable to determine in the dark how many
enemy troops were out there.
Captain Matthews told the platoon leaders to prepare their men to move out
at daylight and attack immediately when they sighted the first Germans. About 0530
well before daylight, the Germans launched a counterattack against the Second
Battalion, on the right. The Battalion CO postponed the daylight departure and sent
Company B to reinforce the Second Battalion. With the assistance of Company B,
they repelled the enemy attack and by 1330 both battalions were ready to push ahead.
Companies A and C launched an attack to the northwest toward Petite Rosselle (Map
9, pg. 160). They met the same kind of delaying action and resistance that they
encountered the day before. Meanwhile, the Second Battalion on the right,
encountered formidable obstacles including a twenty-foot railroad embankment, an
anti-personnel ditch, a tank trap, bunkers, and the heavily defended Simon Mine.
The Second Battalion was forced to withdraw 400 yards where it dug in for the night.
That withdrawal isolated Companies A and C and left them ahead of the rest of the
Regiment with their right flank exposed. Both companies were ordered to pull back
to their former positions and set up defenses for the night. The men hated to give up
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FORAY IN THE FOREST
ground, but they remembered too well that they were in a similar situation on Hill
403 in Les Vosges mountains.
The following day, March 7, orders came down from Regiment postponing
all attack plans because the right flank of the 276th Infantry was exposed by a large
gap between it and the 274th Infantry. Company A continued to probe for weak
spots and improve its positions overlooking Petite Rosselle. Patrol activities
continued during the night of March 7. The lines remained fairly static from March
8 to March 13, while the units to the right of the 276th Infantry were moving into
position and closing gaps in the lines. Day and night, the Company sent patrols into
the German-held territory. Some were reconnaissance patrols sent to gather
information regarding the enemy's numerical strength, locations of their strong
points, and indications of their intentions. Others were combat patrols that probed
the enemy lines to draw fire. Enemy artillery and mortar shells fell on the Company
positions sporadically day and night. That encouraged the men to continue to
improve the positions from mere foxholes to elaborate dugouts covered with timber
and dirt. Each night enemy patrols attempted to infiltrate the 276th lines. Usually
after a short firefight, the Germans would pull back.
Shortly before dawn one morning, two Third Platoon sentries heard movement
in front of their dugout. Instantly they started shooting in the direction of the noise.
By the sounds that followed, they became aware that they had not shot an enemy
soldier, but the wounded intruder was a cow. That morning a butchering operation,
under the direction of Ollie Davis, took place and the Company had fresh beef for a
few days. Occasionally, some men would "liberate" a chicken or two, but that was
the first and only time for a cow. The most skillful chicken thief in the Company was
Pvt. Irving Toups, a Third Platoon rifleman. He could spot a chicken, capture it,
pluck and clean it, and have it roasting before the rest of the squad got their rifles
cleaned. Toups became known as the "Louisiana chicken thief."
Everyone was well aware that the positions overlooking Petite Rosselle were
under constant observation by the enemy. It was virtually impossible to drive a jeep
to any of the platoon CPs without drawing mortar or artillery fire. Because of that,
the men had to carry all of the ammunition and supplies to the forward positions.
Frequently the supply details drew the attention of the enemy forward observers. On
one such occasion when Patterson’s squad was returning with supplies, a German
forward observer spotted them and proceeded to drop mortar rounds near them as
they ran from cover to cover. As Patterson later put it: "We returned safely to the
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FORAY IN THE FOREST
forward CP with the supplies, with no hits, many runs, and very few errors, but
damned perturbed with the Heinie mortar that had given us such a bad time."
The nights were always unnerving. That was especially true when the lines
were fluid and there was no clearly defined MLR. Active enemy patrolling made it
essential that the men in the dugouts remain awake and on their toes. Two or three
men were positioned in each dugout and at least one had to be on guard day and
night. The squad leaders got very little sleep at night because they were continuously
making the rounds to their positions. The life of every man in the Company
depended entirely on the alertness of the sentries, most of whom were new
replacements. On one occasion when Lowry was checking the outposts and noticed
that a man who was supposedly on guard was slumped over the parapet of his hole.
Not knowing whether the man was dead or alive, he crept up to the edge of the hole,
heard the man snoring, then quietly removed the man's rifle and climbed in the
dugout with the snoring GI. It was the Brit who earlier deserted his post, lit up at
night, and was kicked out of the Company once before. He woke up when the cold
muzzle of a rifle touched his neck. The squad leader, not wanting to make any noise,
quietly whispered to him to "Get out of the hole before you get us all killed and haul
ass to the CP and report to Lt. Brewer.” The sergeant really wanted to scare the hell
out of him but that did not work as his only comment was an unruffled, "Sorry 'ole
chap." Brewer chewed him unmercifully and took him to the Company CP where
he awakened the CO and the First Sergeant. He made it damn clear that he would not
tolerate the goof-off any longer. "Court-martial the sonofabitch or shoot the sonofabitch but we don't want to see the sonofabitch near my platoon again!" It was the
last time anyone in Company A saw the goldbricking poor excuse for a soldier.
The cold wet weather continued until March 12, when it began to clear and the
sun came out for a few hours. The men stopped wearing their overcoats, which they
were glad to shed; however, they continued wearing their wool knit sweaters and
field jackets. When it rained, they wore their rain coats. Some men started wearing
their combat boots and did away with the shoe pacs. The combat boots were
worthless in wet weather as the exposed unfinished leather absorbed the moisture
where smooth leather might have repelled it. The regulation Army shoe and canvass
leggings would have served the men much better than the combat boot. Those that
switched from shoe pacs to combat boots were gambling on dry weather in the days
to come. As bad as the shoe pacs were, they were at least waterproof.
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FORAY IN THE FOREST
During the night of March 12, the Captain had all four platoons of Company
A sending out patrols. The instructions to each patrol were the same; “Keep an eye
on all known enemy positions and report immediately any movements or anything
else that looks unusual.” Some anti-aircraft battalions moved in near Forbach and
set up their many searchlights on high ground and at night pointed them in the
direction of the enemy. That innovation called "artificial moonlight" made it
possible for the men to better spot enemy movement. Also it made it difficult for the
enemy to see anything when looking into the glaring light. In a strange way there
was some comfort for the infantryman when he looked back at the bright lights. It
gave him a feeling that the foot soldiers were not alone in the war and that others
were behind him. That night the enemy shelling and mortar fire was far more intense
than it had been for several days. That led the men to believe that the enemy was up
to something because very often before an attack, the Germans would lay in heavy
artillery barrages. That night was different from the others in that there was no real
letup. The shelling continued intermittently all night. The reconnaissance patrols
confirmed that the enemy positions were still fully manned, and there was no
indication of either a counterattack or a withdrawal. At night the suspense of not
knowing what the enemy was going to do next, when everyone knew that he was up
to something, sent chills up and down the men's spines.
Shortly before noon on March 13, a scout reported that a group of enemy
soldiers in full field packs were seen moving around in Petite Rosselle. Company A
was ordered to send a daylight patrol to that village immediately to find out what was
going on in the enemy camp. Captain Matthews told Lt. Brewer to get a patrol
together and take off at once. He selected Steiner, Mussler, Finney, and Sbrocco, all
Third Platoon NCOs to accompany him. He left Lowry in charge of the Platoon,
with only one other veteran NCO. The patrol took off at noon and was out all
afternoon. Shortly before dusk, Capt. Matthews became very uneasy when Brewer
did not return and he discovered that one of his platoons had no officer and only two
NCOs. He became downright upset when he got orders that the Company, along
with the rest of the Battalion, was going into a night attack at 2100 hours. He became
damn mad when the patrol returned shortly before H Hour, more than slightly under
the influence of a few too many belts of schnapps. Brewer's report was simple;
“There are no Krauts in Petite Rosselle.” The Captain, a teetotaler, threatened to
have the lot of them court-martialed, but realizing he could never get along without
them, he let the issue rest.
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FORAY IN THE FOREST
The effects of the schnapps wore off rather quickly when Lt. Brewer and
Steiner learned that the Company was preparing to go into a night attack. Captain
Matthews and Lt. Brewer went back to the Company CP where the Battalion Exec.
Officer was waiting for a report from the patrol. Brewer's report to the Exec. was
very brief because he and his men encountered no Germans troops in the town of
Petite Rosselle, nor did they see any German soldiers while going there or returning.
All the patrol encountered were friendly civilians, schnapps and wine which the
lieutenant chose not mention. After making his report, he returned to his platoon and
for obvious reasons, he kept as much distance as possible between himself and
Captain Matthews.
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FORAY IN THE FOREST
222
FORAY IN THE FOREST
14. MARCH INTO THE UNKNOWN
After the patrol returned from Petite Rosselle and Lt. Brewer made his report
to the First Battalion Exec. Officer, Captain Matthews called the Platoon Leaders
together for a briefing. He told them that General Barnett ordered the 276th Infantry
Regiment to attack and pursue the enemy in force. The First Battalion would lead the
attack and jump off in less than an hour and get as close to each unit’s objective as
possible before engaging the enemy in a firefight. “Have your men ready to go, we
will move out in absolute silence, and no one is to fire a shot until the enemy goes
into action. Company C will take the point, followed by Able, Baker and Dog.”
At 1930 on March 13, Company C's scouts, Pfc William Hines and Sgt. James
Roy, with CO Capt. William Greenwalt and the men of Charlie Company, crossed
the line of departure. There were no skirmish lines. The men silently marched into
"no-mans-land" in a column of twos. Soon all four companies of the battalion were
one long column. The march through enemy territory was so silent and well
conducted that over six-hundred men walked five miles and occupied a German town
on the Saar River without being discovered. Twelve hours elapsed before the
Germans, manning fortified positions on the Saar, became aware of their presence.
Trailblazer patrols made no previous reconnaissance that deep in German territory,
so the Battalion had to start blind from their positions in the hills north of Forbach.
Heavy fortifications were in front and German troops were reported all over the area.
During the previous week, at least six Company A patrols had encountered the enemy
and were fired on within a half mile of their defensive positions. Most NCOs in
Company A knew that the roads in the area were covered by machine-guns in all
directions. To avoid the fields of fire and to avoid detection, the Battalion started its
223
MARCH INTO THE UNKNOWN
march through the woods. Not a sound was made that might arouse the Germans to
the GIs' presence behind their lines. As it got darker the men encountered some
difficulty in maintaining the usual five yard intervals and still keep in contact with
one another. Soon it became impossible to maintain those intervals and the troops
were forced to close their ranks. In order not to lose contact, a man often had to hold
on to the cartridge belt of the man in front of him. The GIs termed that "marching
a-hole-to-belly-button." One had to be extremely cautious not to walk into the man
ahead for fear that their helmets would bump, or a rifle barrel would strike a helmet.
The delays and stops were frequent and sometimes lengthy. While standing and
waiting in the dark, some men fell asleep on their feet. In the dark, it was very
difficult for the squad leaders to go up and down the moving column to make sure
that their men stayed together and that each squad maintained contact with the squad
in front.
Along the way, the scouts discovered a road block of felled trees and found
the area around it mined. To avoid the mined area, the entire column crawled over
the road block, which resulted in a long delay. They could hear artillery to the front,
on both flanks and exploding on their former positions. A few well placed shells
could have wiped out half the outfit. It was incredible that so many men were behind
the German lines and not discovered. More than once while the men were at a
standstill, some heard voices in the night.
Since civilians were never out after dark
and no GIs were in the area, it could only
be assumed that the voices they heard
came from enemy soldiers. The stillness
of the night and the suspense of not knowing whether they had been detected and
were being watched kept everyone alert
and on his toes.
Shortly after passing the line of
departure, the entire battalion had to go
down a cable to negotiate a sheer twenty-foot drop. The men slung their rifles
across their backs and hand over hand
they let themselves down on a forty-five
degree angle in total darkness. The cable
was once a high tension line whose towers
224
had been toppled. That hand over hand test of endurance reminded everyone of the
obstacle courses back at Camp Adair and Fort Leonard Wood. It was just one of
several obstacles that created long delays in the advance.
After sliding down the cable, the Battalion was in the outskirts of Petite
Rosselle. From there it continued its march toward an unknown objective north of
Forbach. No one was apparently aware of the destination except the Battalion Commander and perhaps a few other battalion officers. If any one else knew, they kept
it a well-guarded military secret. After drifting around the outskirts of Petite Rosselle
and encountering no resistance, the men moved silently in a column of twos in the
general direction of the Saar River. Though no one was apparently aware of it at the
time, not far from Petite Rosselle, the troops crossed the prewar border between
France and Germany. At long last, the Trailblazers were to fight on German soil.
From that point on, it was to be a war of conquest and liberation in the Germans'
fatherland and no longer a war of liberation only. Unfortunately, it was unlikely that
anyone in the ranks knew that the Trailblazers were actually in Germany.
The longest delay that the column of troops encountered was at a minefield in
their path. A squad of Engineers sought out the mines and as they located one, a man
was assigned to straddle it. The column was then very carefully guided around the
mines and through the field. As each man cautiously made his way through the
minefield, he hoped and prayed that the Engineers did not overlook any. Fortunately,
the entire battalion made it through the mine field without detonating one mine.
Many wondered, as they did earlier when letting themselves down the cable
and crossing the roadblock, what they would do if ambushed and forced to fight in
the darkness. Worse than an ambush would have been a well-placed artillery barrage.
The NCOs had nightmares thinking about how they would deploy their squads and
platoons in such an event. The location of the roadblock, the cable and the minefield,
were definitely "points of no return."
The column snaked its way forward without any indication of being detected,
but it was a certainty that Germans were bypassed. It was very possible that enemy
soldiers spotted or heard the GIs, but took them to be their own troops. At no time
did the enemy challenge the men in the column. If the column had been a patrol of
eight or ten men rather than a few hundred, more than likely they would have been
challenged. No German would expect to find that many Yanks so far behind their
lines. The fact that the Battalion bypassed many enemy troops became evident the
225
next day when units of the Second Battalion, following the same route as the First
Battalion, encountered the enemy in a vicious firefight that went on for seven hours.
Without further incident, the column of infantrymen slowly made its way to
the edge of the German town of Firstenhausen overlooking the Saar River. The
companies were deployed and everyone fully expected and prepared himself to do
battle. After carefully reconnoitering the area, the troops silently entered the town.
They very carefully and quietly made their way down the entire length of the main
street and entered some side streets. They broke into a number of houses, then spread
out through the town where each company was assigned a sector to secure. They
encountered no enemy troops. By 0345 the morning of March 14, eight hours after
crossing the line of departure, the men of Company A were in possession of their first
piece of German real estate. Each platoon took up positions in houses and
warehouses near the Saar River and quickly established local security and perimeter
defense. The men set about cleaning and checking their weapons, and those who
were not standing guard settled down for a little much needed sleep.
In the morning when the civilians stirred they were amazed to find American
soldiers in their town guarding their doorways; however, the Trailblazers were not
surprised to see Germans occupying defensive positions a few hundred yards away
on both sides of the river. From the upper floors of some houses, the GIs could see
the enemy moving around in their trenches unaware that the Yanks were there. They
were seen riding bicycles, walking about on the streets, and going about their business as though the American soldiers were many miles away. Sgt. Dean Mayer later
remarked, "Watching out through the cracks of a barn while German soldiers walked
around quite near was really unique." That blatant manifestation of a false sense of
security indicated that the GIs were successful in marching several miles behind
enemy lines without being detected, but there was a great deal of concern that the
Germans might have sucked the Battalion into a trap. As the hours passed it
appeared more evident that the Battalion of Trailblazers had entered Germany and
virtually captured its first German town without firing a shot.4
It was not until early afternoon that the Germans discovered that the Yanks
had slipped in and occupied the greater part of Firstenhausen. It was then that all hell
broke loose and the fight was on. The Bloody Axe doughboys took full advantage
4
The Trailblazers, 1945
226
of the element of surprise, which was clearly in their favor. As long as they remained
inside the buildings and stayed off the streets, they did not reveal their locations any
sooner than necessary. Thus they were able to
hold the initiative and take out enemy troops
as they came into their sights. The GIs had a
fair idea which buildings the enemy occupied
but at first the Germans did not know exactly
where the GIs had positioned themselves.
The firefight continued for the rest of the
afternoon as the Germans were slowly forced
to retreat across the river where they took
cover in the pillboxes and elaborate trench
system of the Siegfried Line. At first the
enemy did not use artillery or mortars, possibly because they feared hitting their own
troops. It was not until the last of them retreated across the Saar River to the safety of
the Siegfried Line that the shelling
commenced. They directed most of the artillery and mortar fire at the houses and buildings where the GIs set up their positions, thus
driving the Americans into the basements.
Fighting at Firstenhausen, Germany. S/Sgt Lowry
After dark the men set up new positions in
throwing a grenade before entering.
different buildings, where hopefully the Germans would not know their locations.
The First Battalion was firmly in control of Firstenhausen and most of the
German troops were killed, captured or driven across the river. Surprisingly,
Company A's casualties were light with no battle deaths. At one point when Lt.
Jenkins was running between two houses, an enemy machine gun bullet grazed his
nose. He was not seriously injured but the scratch on the nose made him eligible for
his third purple heart without ever having lost more than a day or two on the line. No
one ever let him live it down.
That situation was similar in some respects to the German 6th SS Mountain
Division's attack when they captured Wingen-sur-Moder, only in reverse. At Firstenhausen, it was the GIs who slipped through the forests in the dead of night and
227
captured the town. The Germans, not the Americans, were caught off guard with
their pants down.
Each company sent patrols to the river to attempt to locate the enemy's strong
positions and to seek out crossing points, however they could find no likely places
to attempt a crossing. The Siegfried Line was one massive series of concrete and
steel fortifications that appeared to be impregnable. When it was constructed, the
Germans took full advantage of the natural barrier provided by the Saar River.
Expansive open areas covered by interlocking fields of fire and enormous strands of
coiled concertina wire were located in front of the massive concrete and steel
bunkers. Tank traps and reinforced concrete dragon teeth were everywhere. Both
sides of the river were heavily mined and the men drew intensive small arms and
machine gun fire whenever they came in view of the Germans.
Company A was assigned a broad sector of the newly established MLR facing
the Saar. Outposts were set up in buildings along the river front where the men had
unobstructed views of the enemy fortifications. Those manning the outposts had to
be extremely careful not to give away their positions as the Germans could easily
have wiped them out with point blank artillery and rockets. Fortunately the enemy,
as close as they were, did not fire on a single Company A outpost. The following
morning the shelling continued but it was all directed into the buildings that the
Company vacated during the night.
Regimental Headquarters ordered the companies facing the Siegfried Line to
provide detailed information about the German fortifications. Armstrong gave
Patterson an assignment to prepare a map of the pill boxes and other fortifications
across the river. To do that he had to get as close to the river as possible so he chose
a Second Platoon outpost. He spent most of the day at the chore that had to be
accomplished without the enemy seeing him. He was so amazed at the elaborate fortifications and trench system that he had some difficulty in getting it down on paper.
Later he was very much relieved and quite thankful that he was busy sketching and
not among those selected to take a patrol across the river.
During the nights of March 15 and 16 the Company attempted to send patrols
across in inflatable rafts. Each effort was thwarted by small arms, heavy machine
guns, and mortar fire. Patrols from the other companies also attempted to make
crossings but met the same fate. There was simply no way to conceal a raft full of
228
men, even in the dark of night. The Germans must have had listening posts along the
north bank of the river, or else they had the uncanny ability to see in the dark.
The entire north bank of the river in Company A's sector was one massive
fortification. A small enemy force in those defensive positions could have held off
a much superior force. Then there was the river with its steep banks that provided
a natural barrier against assaulting forces. The men were well aware of the fact that
a frontal assault against those defenses would lead to countless casualties and
bloodshed, with little or no expectation of success. Small arms fire, artillery fire and
mortar fire continued to come in but most of the time the GIs did not return the fire.
It would have been foolhardy to reveal their positions by firing at an enemy who was
protected by concrete bunkers. For the next two nights, the Company attempted to
get patrols across the river but the German defenders fought fiercely to prevent the
Americans from invading the Reich, and they did it with determination.
On the morning of March 19, Company A's positions on the south bank of the
Saar were expanded to take over the defensive positions of the entire Regimental
front. The men were spread so thin that there was frequently no visible contact
between one squad and another. Each defensive position on the MLR was manned
by two or three men to form islands of defense. Never before had the men on the
MLR been spread out as thin as they were that night. Though the GIs in Company
A were unaware of it, the other companies of the battalion and the other battalions
of the 276th Infantry were moved to assembly areas at the towns of Geislautern,
Werbeln, Klarenthal, and Petite Rosselle. Preparations were made for a massive
offensive against the Siegfried Line and heavy artillery was moved into place at
strategic locations. Bright yellow banners were placed on the ground in front of the
MLR, so that the Army Air Corps would know where to strafe and bomb when they
provided tactical air support.
At 2200 there was an unexpected turn of events. Company C was successful
in getting a patrol across the Saar. Two boats made it to the north side of the river
without being fired on. They met no small arms opposition but ran into a minefield
and detonated two or three mines. The mine explosions did not draw any enemy fire
so Engineers were sent across the river to clear a path for the Infantry. They worked
diligently for more than four hours disarming the mines while other Engineers built
a pontoon foot bridge. The Germans did not attempt to stop the crossing, and the GIs
began to fear that they were being sucked into a trap. By 0300 in the morning of
March 20, the Engineer's mission was accomplished. A path was cleared through the
229
mine field, and Company C crossed the river on rubber boats and entered an
unoccupied bunker. Other troops proceeded northward past the mines in pursuit of
the enemy. Company A continued to hold the line along the Regimental front, while
the rest of the Battalion and Regiment crossed over the water on hastily constructed
foot bridges.
Shortly after seven that
morning, Company A was replaced
on the MLR by elements of the 65th
Infantry Division and it too moved
across the river and set up defensive
positions northwest of Voklingen,
Germany (Map 9, pg 160). The men
were totally astonished to learn that
the German defenders of the famed
Siegfried Line had withdrawn from
their elaborate positions on the Saar
River without making more of a
stand. Everyone thanked God for
their good fortune in not having had
to engage the enemy in what was
shaping up to be a potentially endless,
bloody encounter. On reaching the
other side of the river, the GIs of
Company A could not help but notice
the many stacks of disarmed mines on
the riverbank. Thanks went out to
the Engineers for an unsavory task
well done. After digging in, the men
Sgt. Matla and S/Sgt. Lowry grabbing a quick K ration in a dugout north
took the usual care of their arms and
of the Saar River.
equipment, heated some C rations
and Nescafe, and grabbed little rest while they waited for orders to shove off again.
The entire Bloody Axe Regiment was across the Saar River, through the Siegfried
Line, and ready to plunge into the Rhineland.
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15. VICTORY
At long last the Nazis were on the run west of the Rhine River and the Allies
were driving them back into Germany. The armored divisions of General George
Patton's Third Army broke through the German resistance on the west flank of the
Seventh Army. They plunged deep into the Rhineland, turned east and advanced
along the Rhine River some fifty miles north of the Saar. The German divisions
retreated from their positions on
the Saar in a last desperate attempt
to avoid being trapped between the
Seventh Army Infantry Divisions
and the Third Army Armored Divisions. The Trailblazers spent the
next few days mopping up enemy
resistance and clearing the many
pill boxes in the area. For three
nights, the men of Company A
slept in relative comfort in the massive concrete and steel bunkers on
the invincible Siegfried Line. A
few days later the Company moved
to Eulenbis, near the private huntThird Squad, Third Platoon. Top row: Frank Lowry, Don Dubose, Al
ing grounds of Hermann Goering. Maston, Merrill Moore, Carlos Leija, Zuloski, Gene Davis, Front Row:
Some GIs got in a little hunting and William Luscatoff, Irving Toups, George Sheeley and Ignace Matla.
fishing while not on patrols or rounding up straggling enemy troops. Fishing without
rods and reels turned out to be a very simple process. Jack Mussler found that a hand
231
VICTORY
grenade exploded in a stream brought several
nice trout to the surface. Pupinski's kitchen
crew took over from there and everyone in
the Company had fried trout for dinner.
On April 1, 1945, the Trailblazers
reached the plateaus above the Rhine River.
The troops were amazed at the beauty of the
magnificent river that wound its way to the
west several hundred feet below. For as far
as one could see on both sides of the river,
grape vines and grape stakes covered the
terraces on the steep embankments. Many
coal barges, some afloat and some sunk, were
moored to damaged wharfs along the river
banks. There were no moving boats or other
navigational activities on the river. Company
A rode in six-by-sixes down the mountain
side to the river then northwest about ten
Rhine River at St. Goar, Germany - April 1, 1945
miles to the town of St. Goar. At St. Goar,
the Company crossed the Rhine on a pontoon bridge erected by the Corps of
Engineers, then took up new positions at St. Goarshausen. The Company's mission
was to guard the bridge that was to become an essential element of the MSR. There
on the banks of the Rhine, the GIs watched a seemingly endless column of Sherman
tanks cross the river on their way into the heart of the Reich. The German Army in
the west was all but defeated and the enemy soldiers, who did not retreat before the
advancing Allied Armies, surrendered by the thousands.
For about a week, the GIs of Company A occupied several small towns and
villages near Goldbach, Germany. They mopped up islands of resistance and
searched out enemy soldiers and enemy arms caches. In just a few days, the
Company captured several hundred prisoners that were hiding in the villages. None
put up a fight. In the town of Goldbach, some GIs of Company A took time out to
celebrate with a group of recently liberated Polish Nationals who had been enslaved
to labor on German farms and in mines. The Polish men provided vintage wines,
cognac and other liquors that they "liberated" from the cellars of the castle of their
former master, a German baron. The men spent most of the night drinking and
watching the Polish peasants engaged in folk dancing to the accompaniment of an
232
VICTORY
accordion that was also taken from the castle. Pupinski, Matla, Kucmerosky,
Gerowski, Micherdzinski, and several other GIs of Polish descent soon joined in the
folk dancing. The celebrating continued until the Poles were no longer able to drink,
dance, or stand on their feet. There were many big heads the following morning.
On April 30 Company A suffered its last fatal casualty of the war. In some
hills near the small village of Strass-Bessenbach, Germany, Pfc Alfred Bousquet was
leading a patrol searching for German holdouts when he picked up a booby-trapped
panzerfaust. The explosion blew his hand off and made a hole in his right side about
the size of a canteen. Jury had the men make a stretcher with a couple of jackets and
rifles. They carried Bosquet down the hill to Strass-Bessenbach and sent him to an
Army field hospital. He died May 3, three days later.
After the men left the Saar River and
were clearing the towns and searching for
German soldiers and weapons, the Company
A GIs came across plentiful supplies of
Moselle and Rhine wine. Whenever a man
was seen carrying two canteens on his belt,
one could be sure that the extra canteen was
not for drinking water. Pupinski and Scopp
managed to keep up with the troops and prepare hot chow for the men nearly every day.
They were afforded the opportunity to take
more showers and they got complete changes
of clothing once every week or ten days.
V-E Day, May 8, 1945, found
Company A in Lorheim, Germany. The war
was over in Europe and the Trailblazers
became a part of the Army of Occupation of
Germany. The 70th Division was billeted in
many small towns throughout the American
S/Sgt. Arnold “Red” Shelander, T/Sgt. Richard “Dick”
Armstrong and S/Sgt. John Haller. Nauborn, Germany,
Occupation Zone. Company A's first occuAugust 1945
pation assignment was in the town of
Lohrheim. Lorheim was a small hamlet where none of the houses had running water
or indoor plumbing. Like many other villages throughout Europe, the primitive
houses sheltered both their residents and livestock under the same roof. The cusCOMPANY A 276TH INFANTRY
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VICTORY
tomary manure piles were always evident in front
of nearly every house. "Honey wagons" were
frequently seen and smelled as they rolled out of
town carrying the material pumped from the outhouses and later used to fertilize the crops. "Honey wagons" were pulled by livestock, sometimes
by teams of oxen, horses, or cows. It was not
uncommon to see a "honey wagon" being pulled
by a mixed team of a horse and a cow. The same
was true of the primitive plows used to till the
small plots of farmland. Lohrheim displayed none
of the scars of war because it was not in the path
of defending or invading armies nor was it a target
for
bombing because it was
merely an agricultural hamlet and had no industries. Such was the case with many small towns in
Pfc Ted Kucmerosky, Second Platoon Runner
Germany. Once the German Army was in full
retreat, the Wehrmacht did not stop to defend the
small strategically unimportant villages like they did in northeastern France where
countless small villages were left in ruins.
On the other hand, the ravages of war did not spare any of the larger German
cities. Most were bombed repeatedly by the Army Air Corps and the RAF, which
reduced the cores of many cities to vast fields of rubble. Hardly a building was left
standing in Saarbrucken, the first German city taken by the Trailblazers. In Kassel,
the liberating armies had to go around the city as there was no way to get through the
rubble. In Cologne, only the huge Cathedral remained standing in the center of acres
of complete destruction. Not one German city, including the Capital City of Berlin
escaped near total destruction. The German populace was bled white. In the cities
and in the villages, one saw only women, children, old men and cripples. The
younger men were all victims of the Nazi war machine. Those that survived were
dejected and beaten. Others were in prisoner-of-war camps in the Soviet Union and
in the West. Many German soldiers were taken to prisoner of war camps in the
United States.
While the war was over in Europe, it seemed far from over in Asia and the
Pacific so no time was lost in getting prepared for further combat. Intensive training
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VICTORY
programs got underway
immediately, and at least
half of each day was devoted to running squad,
platoon, and company field
problems.
In early June 1945,
the Company moved to the
village of Nauborn, a town
similar to Lohrheim but
larger and not as isolated.
Nauborn was near the city
of Wetzlar, the site of the
The Dom (Cathedral) at Cologne, Germany - 1945
Zeiss factory that manufactured Leica cameras and the Hensholdt factory that manufactured lenses and field
glasses. Part of the Company's occupation duty was to guard those factories, but
none of the Leica cameras was available to the GIs.
At Nauborn, the training and field problems were continued with greater
intensity. At that point in time it appeared to be a sure thing that the Trailblazers
were destined for the Pacific or possibly the China-Burma-India Theater. Rumors
were prevalent that the Trailblazers would participate in the forthcoming invasion of
Japan, most likely from Okinawa. Shortly after the Company's arrival at Nauborn,
several men who were wounded at Wingen, Les Vosges, and Forbach returned to the
Company from Army hospitals in France and England. First to return to Company
A were S/Sgts. Skalitzky, Cook, Causey and Haller, Sgt. Slover and Pfcs George
Sheeley and Gene Davis, followed by a few more each week. Everyone was excited
and glad to welcome them, as no one expected to see them again. In addition,
replacements and transferees from other units came to the Company. Company A
was up to full strength for the first time since it arrived in France and it had a strong
battle tested cadre of officers and NCOs. That made it an ideal fighting unit to send
into combat in another theater of operations.
While Company A was billeted in Nauborn, Regimental Headquarters directed
that each company establish an I & E (Information and Education) program. The
purpose was to keep the men informed of current events, particularly the progress of
the newly formed United Nations. Classes in the German language and other timely
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VICTORY
I & E NCOs Frank Lowry and Virgil Cook - Nauborn,
Germany - 1945
subjects were started. Company NCOs
assigned the responsibility for carrying out
the program were Sergeants Cook, Lowry
and Slover. Nearly everyone participated in
the program, either as an instructor or by
attending classes. The I & E program went
very well, in spite of the fact that the courses
were not structured and there were no instructional materials. One of the first instructors was Haller who taught a class in
German, and one of his students was Dan
Jury. After a few days Jury went around
telling everyone, "Old 'Red Ass' kicked me
out of his German class." The truth of the
matter was that Jury was Pennsylvania Dutch
and already spoke good German and Haller
did not think that he could teach him anything.
In addition to their official duties, the
I & E NCOs established an Enlisted Men's
Club in a former tavern. There, the men
could spend their evenings over a few beers
or some Rhineland wine. They also had a
reading room where they were able to sit
around, read magazines, write letters, and
speculate as to the destiny of the men of
Company A and the Trailblazers.
On Memorial Day, May 30, 1945,
nearly two years after the activation of the
Trailblazer Division, the 276th Infantry RegiEnlisted Mens Club - Nauborn, Germany - 1945
ment assembled in a former Nazi stadium at
the Rock of Lorelei. Lorelei was in a beautiful setting, four hundred feet above a
bend in the Rhine River. As far as one could see, upstream and downstream,
vineyards covered the steep hills that rose from both sides of the river. It was a
scene of absolute tranquility that did not appear to belong in the heart of the nation
whose leaders brought the world into the most devastating conflict in history. The
236
VICTORY
Color Guard at 276th Infantry Regiment Memorial Service at Lorelei Stadium above the Rhine River - Memorial Day, 1945
Regimental Commander, Col. Albert Morgan, assembled the troops to honor the men
of the 276th Infantry Regiment who made the supreme sacrifice and gave their lives
for the cause of freedom. A representative from each Company called the final roll
of those that perished in the war. S/Sgt Virgil C. Cook called the roll for Company
A. As he named each of the thirty-four men who were killed in action, a designated
comrade responded "Here." While Cook made the final roll call of those comradesin-arms who were killed the war, the troops stood at attention with lumps in their
throats, tears in their eyes, and prayers in their hearts. Many fallen comrades were
later laid to rest forever in the United States Military Cemeteries at St. Avold and
Epinal, France. They rest not far from where they perished.
With news of the dropping of the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki
and the resultant capitulation of Japan, the big question was, "When do we go
home?" A large Army of Occupation was needed in Europe and many men would
have to remain in Germany until replacements were brought over from the States.
In short, the war was over but the job was not done. Also, it would be several
237
VICTORY
months before sufficient ocean vessels could
be available to transport millions of men back
across the sea.
Lt. Robert (Bob) Brewer and T/Sgt. John Steiner
To determine priorities for returning to
the States, the Army devised a point system.
Each man got one point for each month that he
served in the Armed Services, one point for
each month he served overseas, five points for
each battle campaign, five points for each
medal, twelve points if married, and twelve
points for each child. Anyone having eightyfive or more points was eligible to depart from
the ETO. Only Captain Matthews, Lt.
Brewer, S/Sgts. Pupinski, Sgt. "Stupe" Granger and Sgt. Holland had sufficient points to
go home with the first shipment. After that, a
few men left the Company each month on the
point system.
After VJ Day, the Division began receiving many transferees possessing high
points mainly from the Third and 78th Infantry Divisions. 1st Lt. Hyman Pergament
came to the Company as CO to replace Capt. Matthews. Those 70th Infantry
Division men who did not have sufficient points to return home were transferred to
the Third Infantry Division. After a short tour with the Third Division, many Trailblazers were transferred to the 78th Division for occupation duty in Berlin, Bremen
and Bremerhaven. While they waited their turn to return to the States, several
Company A men, including S/Sgt. Haller, T/Sgt. Armstrong, and S/Sgt. Lowry
served with the 78th Infantry Division in Berlin until early 1946. S/Sgt. Patterson
and Bryan Ledoux served with the same division in Bremerhaven.
One morning while S/Sgt. Skalitzky's squad was on guard duty at the Zeiss
Camera Factory in Wetzlar, Pfc Frank Mitchell accidentally dropped his rifle. When
the rifle butt struck the cement floor, the rifle discharged and sent a thirty-caliber
bullet through his head, killing him instantly. Mitchell had only been with the
Company a short time. He was a high point transferee from the Third Infantry
Division and had fought in several European campaigns. He was slated to go back
to the States with the 70th Infantry Division.
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VICTORY
Before the end of hostilities in Europe, Sergeants Armstrong, Micherdzinski
and Lowry were offered direct commissions which Armstrong and Lowry declined
to accept at that time. Later Armstrong and Lowry opted to accept commissions in
the Officer Reserve Corps. Four years later, both men were recalled to serve as
officers during the Korean War.
On September 1, the 70th Infantry Division, with very few familiar faces,
sailed for New York on the HMS Queen Elizabeth. The soldiers who returned to the
United States on the HMS Queen Elizabeth were not the same Trailblazers who sailed
to France the year before on the USS West Point nor were they the men who fought
with the 70th Infantry Division.
On September 11, 1945, the 70th Infantry Division was unceremoniously
deactivated at Camp Joyce Kilmer, New Jersey. Its men were sent to Army posts near
their homes where they were processed for separation from the United States Army.
239
VICTORY
JUST A SIMPLE SOLDIER
Author Unknown
He was getting old and paunchy
His hair was falling fast
He sat around the Legion,
Telling stories of the past.
Of a war that he had fought in
And the deeds that he had done
In his exploits with his buddies
They were heroes, everyone.
And 'tho sometimes, to his neighbors
His tales became a joke
All his buddies listened
For they knew whereof he spoke.
But we'll hear his tales no longer
For ol' George has passed away
And the world's a little poorer
For a soldier died today.
He won't be mourned by many
Just his children and his wife.
For he lived an ordinary,
Very quiet sort of life.
He held a job and raised a family
Quietly going on his way.
And the world won't note his passing
'tho a Soldier died today.
When politicians leave this earth
Their bodies lie in state
While thousands note their passing
And proclaim that they were great.
Papers tell of their life stories,
From the time that they were young,
But the passing of a soldier,
Goes unnoticed, and unsung.
Is the greatest contribution
To the welfare of our land,
Some jerk who breaks his promise
And cons his fellow man?
Or the ordinary fellow
Who in times of war and strife
Goes off to serve his Country
And offers up his life?
The politician's stipend
And the style in which he lives
Are sometimes disproportionate
To the service which he gives.
While the ordinary soldier
Who offered up his all
Is paid off with a medal
And perhaps a pension, very small.
It's so easy to forget them
For it was so long ago,
That our Bob's and Jim's and Johnny's
Went to battle, but we know.
It was not the politicians
With their compromise and ploys,
Who won for us the freedom
That our Country now enjoys.
Should you find yourself in danger
With your enemies at hand
Would you really want some cop-out
With his ever waffling stand?
Or would you want a Soldier
Who has sworn to protect and defend
His home, his kin, and Country
And would fight until the end?
He was just a common Soldier
And his ranks are growing thin
But his presence should remind us
We may need his likes again.
For when countries are in conflict
Then we find the Soldier's part
Is to clean up all the troubles
That the politicians start.
If we cannot do him honor
While he's here to hear the praise
Then at least let's give him homage
At the ending of his days.
Perhaps just a simple headline
in the paper that might say:
"OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING,
FOR A SOLDIER DIED TODAY."
240
FIFTY YEARS LATER
FIFTY YEARS LATER
Former soldiers of Company A, 276th Infantry Regiment at a Trailblazer reunion held at Las Vegas, Nevada, September 19, 1990,
forty -five years after World War II. Some of these veterans had not seen or heard from one another since the war. Front row:
John L Haller, John A Welte, Daniel W Jury, Robert L Wood, Frank H Lowry and William J Piper. Back row: Lloyd A Patterson,
Earl D Granger, Burton K Drury, Edward J Skalitzky, Arthur E Slover, Edward E Kimmle, Russell E Causey and Richard R
Armstrong.
241
FIFTY YEARS LATER
Half a century has gone by and a great deal of water passed under the bridge
since the young men of Company A fought and died on the battlefields of France and
Germany. Many men who were wounded and evacuated did not recover sufficiently
to return to Company A. They were suddenly taken from the battlefield under
circumstances that rarely gave them the opportunity to say farewell to their comrades.
When the war was over, the men who were still with the Company did not remain
together for long. Those who earned the highest number of rotation points were the
first to leave for the U.S.A. Every day or two a few more men departed. Some were
homeward bound and others were sent to different units to serve in the Army of
Occupation. Eventually when the men returned to the Zone of the Interior, each went
his separate way. Their attentions were directed to putting the war behind them and
picking up where they left off. During those times of warfare and subsequent periods
of readjustment, most of the men lost contact with their wartime comrades-in-arms.
In recent years, some former Trailblazers of Company A became reacquainted
through the 70th Infantry Division Association, but there are many out there who do
not know the Association exists. The following is an update on those that the author
was able to locate.
ARMSTRONG, RICHARD R
Richard "Dick" Armstrong was the Platoon Guide of the First Platoon and
later succeeded Robert Brewer as the Platoon Sergeant. After the war, Dick
transferred to the 78th Infantry Division for Army of Occupation duty in Berlin.
Early in 1946, he returned to his home in Duluth, Minnesota. Dick and his wife Rose
were married in Duluth and made their home in Hoyt Lakes, Minnesota, where they
raised three children. Dick worked as a foreman in the Minnesota iron mines and his
life long hobbies were hunting and fishing. He was recalled to active duty during the
Korean War and served for two years as an infantry officer. Dick remained in the
Minnesota National Guard and retired with the rank of Captain. For many years he
was active in the American Legion and VFW. After his retirement, he did volunteer
work by driving disabled senior citizens to hospitals and medical clinics. Dick
passed away in August 1992, less than a year after the death of his wife Rose.
AVERY, QUINTEN R
Quinten Avery and his wife Elizabeth reside in Greenville, North Carolina.
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FIFTY YEARS LATER
BAMBRICK, EUGENE P
Eugene "Gene" Bambrick joined the 70th Infantry Division in March, 1944
after a year studying mechanical engineering in the Army Specialized Training
Program at Oregon State College. He went overseas as a scout in the Second
Platoon. After the fighting in Les Vosges mountains, Gene received a battlefield
commission and was transferred to the 36th Infantry Division. On March 22, 1945,
Gene was wounded in the shoulder, head, and back while going through the Siegfried
Line. He was evacuated to a field hospital, then to hospitals in Nancy and Aix. On
July 2, 1945, he returned to New York on a hospital ship and was sent to Holloran
Hospital. Gene was released from the hospital in May of 1946, after losing a kidney,
losing the short ribs on his left side, and having a plate put in his head. He enrolled
in St. John's Law School, Brooklyn, New York, and was admitted to the New York
Bar in November 1948. Gene also has a B.S. degree in Economics from St. John's
College and a B.S. in mechanical engineering from Oregon State College. He
pursued a career in Law and in 1990 he retired as a Justice of the New York State
Supreme Court. Gene and his wife Mary Ann were married in May of 1949 and
made their home in Rosedale (Queens), New York. They have six children and seven
grandchildren. Over the years, Gene has been active in community affairs and for ten
years he was Counsel of the Community Civic Association. He is an active member
of St. Clare's Catholic Church and served as president of the Holy Name Society.
BOYD, CAMERON
Cameron "Cam" Boyd was a Mortar-Gunner in the Fourth Platoon. He came
to Company A in the Spring of 1944, after serving in the 91st Infantry Division and
in the Army Air Corps as an Aviation Cadet. Cameron was officially listed as "Killed
in Action" on Hill 358 in Les Vosges mountains on January 12, 1945. It was many
years later when some former members of Company A learned that Cameron did not
die in the war. He was captured while attempting to help a wounded buddy, Neal
Waite. Cameron helped carry Neal about two miles behind the German Lines where
he placed him on a wagon, covered him with a blanket, gave him a pack of cigarettes,
and said "goodby." Cameron was taken to Stalag IX-B at Bad Orb, Germany where
he was interned for the remainder of the war. After the war he returned to his home
in the Pacific-Northwest. He followed careers as a Logger, Mill Worker and a Pawn
Broker. Cam and his wife Janet, whom he married in 1973, reside in Sutherlin,
Oregon. They have nine children and eighteen grandchildren.
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FIFTY YEARS LATER
BUNDICK, WILLIAM F
William Bundick and his wife Eula made their home in Albany, Oregon.
William died on November 2, 1988.
CARROLL, DON E
Don Carroll was the Company Mail Clerk (The man that frequently put smiles
on the faces of his buddies). He joined the Company at Camp Adair after serving in
the Medical Corps and ASTP. After hostilities ended in Europe, Don went to Austria
where he was assigned to the Adjutant General's Office in General Mark Clark's
Headquarters. In April 1946, he returned to the US and civilian life. He attended
college at the University of Southern California where he earned a degree in Civil
Engineering. Don and his wife Myrna were married in St. George, Utah in 1949.
They made their home in Sacramento, California where he worked for the State of
California for thirty-eight years. He retired in 1987. Don volunteers his services one
day each week to the Latter Day Saints(Mormon) Church. He and Myrna have five
children, Donna, Richard, Philip, Roger and David, and thirteen grandchildren.
CARELLO, WILLIAM
William (Bill) Carello returned to Providence, Rhode Island where he worked
for the Postal Service and Providence Police Department. Bill passed away in 1989.
CAUSEY, RUSSELL E
Russell Causey was a member of the original cadre that came to Camp Adair
from the 91st Infantry Division to activate the 70th Infantry Division. He served as
the Mortar Section Leader and as the Platoon Sergeant of the Weapons Platoon. On
January 10, 1945, while fighting on "Hill 403" in Les Vosges mountains of France,
Russell was wounded in the foot by 88mm shrapnel. He returned to the Company in
late February. In August 1945, he transferred to the Third Division for Army of
Occupation duty, then in December he returned to the States with the 12th Armored
Division. In February 1946, he went to work as a printer for Sanford, N.C. Herald
and retired as the Production Manager in 1986. He and his wife Barbara were married
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FIFTY YEARS LATER
in 1942 and have one son and two grandchildren. Russell is a Deacon in the Sanford
First Baptist Church. He is also an active member of the VFW and American Legion.
He served as President and Secretary of the Sanford Optimist Club. Their home in
Sanford, N.C. is on a lake, so it is not surprising that fishing is Russell's hobby. Yard
work is another. Since retirement they travel and keep in touch with several of his
wartime buddies.
CICCARELLO, JOSEPH A
Joseph Ciccarello served as a rifleman in the Second Platoon. He was
captured by the enemy on January 11, 1945 while Company A was attempting to take
Hill 358 in the Vosges mountains and was taken to Stalag IX-B, Bad Orb, Germany.
Joe was among 3300 GIs who were liberated near the end of the war by Company
B, 772nd Tank Battalion, Third Army. Coincidentally, Joe Greco, one of the tank
commanders, was a boyhood friend of Joe's from the south side of Boston. After the
war, Joe returned to his home in Boston and took up where he left off as a printer.
He was married in 1954 and has three daughters. His wife passed away with cancer
in 1978. He remarried in 1987. Joe is retired from State of Massachusetts, Public
Works Department where he was a photographer. He and his wife Jean reside in
West Peabody, Massachusetts.
COOK, VIRGIL C
Virgil Cook was a Squad Leader in the Second Platoon. He was severely
wounded in the arm at Wingen-sur-Moder on January 5, 1945 and was unable to
return to the Company until after VE Day. Virgil served as a Company Information
& Education NCO until he was rotated back to the States. He returned to his home
in Daniels, West Virginia where he and his wife Nellie continue to reside. He
enrolled at Beckley College, through the Board of Ministerial Training of the United
Methodist Church, and also received a degree from Emory University. For twentyseven years, Virgil was a clergyman in the United Methodist Church, twenty of those
as Superintendent of a United Methodist Children's Home in Beckley. In 1986, the
Governor of West Virginia appointed Virgil to the State Board of Education for a
term of eight years. He was elected Secretary in 1988 and President in 1989. He also
served two terms on the Raleigh County Board of Education. He served as President
of the County School Board and the School Boards Association. Virgil is a member
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FIFTY YEARS LATER
of the West Virginia School Building Authority and is president of the State Joint
Commission of Vocational-Technical-Occupational Education.
DAVIS, EUGENE C
Eugene "Gene" Davis was a rifleman in the Third Platoon. He joined
Company A while the Division was training at Camp Adair. Gene was wounded at
Wingen-sur-Moder on January 5, 1945 and returned to duty several months later
when the Company was at Nauborn, Germany. He later served as an assistant squad
leader in the Third Platoon. Gene returned to his home Bruneau, Idaho where he
continues to reside.
DARSEY, FRANK E
Frank Darsey and his wife Bobbie reside in Shreveport, Louisiana.
DRURY, BURTON K
Burton Drury served as a rifleman in the First Platoon. He joined Company
A in the fall of 1944 at Fort Leonard Wood. He was seriously wounded in the left
hip while fighting at Wingen on January 5, 1945. Burton was evacuated to a field
hospital at Epinal, France where he underwent the first of many surgeries. When he
came out from under the anaesthetic, the first person he saw was a tall German
soldier and thought for sure that he was a prisoner of war. An Army nurse assured
him that he was in good hands. The German soldier was a prisoner helping in the
hospital. From Epinal, he went to the 23rd General Hospital in Vitel, France. There
he was put into traction and underwent several more surgeries. On April 20, 1945,
he was put in a cast and flown to the United States. Burton went to Winter General
Hospital, Topeka, Kansas where he was again placed in traction and underwent
several more surgeries. After refusing to consent of an amputation, the medical
authorities transferred him to Percy Jones Hospital at Battle Creek, Michigan where
he spent eighteen months. In April 1947, after twenty-seven months in various
hospitals, thirteen major surgeries, and his leg saved, Burton was discharged and
returned to Festus, Missouri. He and Mary Ann were married in Ozora, Missouri on
November 8, 1947, and raised five children, one daughter, Gale Ann and four sons,
246
FIFTY YEARS LATER
Delray, Ronald, Kem and Kelly. Burton and Mary Ann have twelve grandchildren,
seven girls and five boys. On January 30, 1982, Burton retired after working thirty
years in the offices of P.P.G. Industries at Crystal City, Missouri. He was active in
union affairs and served three years as president of his Local Union. His hobbies are
fishing and traveling. Burton won the 1981 Community Service Award from P.P.G.
Industries for outstanding work in Conservation.
GRANGER, EARL D
Earl Granger entered the Army through the State of Washington National
Guard in 1940. He was wounded at Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, and was
again wounded while fighting on Guadalcanal. He joined the 70th Division at Fort
Leonard Wood, and served as a squad leader in the First Platoon. On January 5,
1945, at Wingen-sur-Moder, he was wounded for the third time. Earl returned to the
Company during the battle for Forbach. Earl was the first man in Company A with
enough points to go home after the war. He returned to his home in Washington. He
and his wife, Donna, reside on Lummi Island, Washington.
GREEN, RUBAN J
Ruben Green and his wife Ilsedora reside in Willingboro, New Jersey.
HALLER, JOHN L
John Haller served as a Squad Leader and Platoon Guide in the Second
Platoon. John joined Company A at Camp Adair, Oregon, April 18, 1944. He
previously served seven months in the 44th Infantry Division at Ft. Lewis,
Washington and seven months in the 317th College Detachment of the Air Cadet
Program. John was wounded at Forbach, France, February 27, 1945, and returned
to duty with the Company May 15, 1945. In August 1945 he transferred to the Third
Infantry Division where he taught German at Eschewge, Germany. He later served
in the Army of Occupation with the 78th Infantry Division at Berlin. He returned to
the US from Bremerhaven, Germany on January 25, 1946. Before entering military
service, John had earned a Degree in Accounting from Spencerian College,
Cleveland, Ohio. After the War he was the Production and Inventory Manager of
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FIFTY YEARS LATER
Rotor Tool Company at Euclid, Ohio. He retired in 1982. John and his wife Lillian
were married on June 1, 1946 in Cleveland, Ohio. They have two children, Peter and
Nancy, and one granddaughter. In 1984 John and Lillian moved to Columbia, South
Carolina where their daughter is a school teacher. John took an active interest in
Scouting and served as both a Cub Scout Leader and a Boy Scout Leader. He is an
active member of the Methodist Church, having served as Chairman of the Board of
Trustees and as the Church Treasurer. He is also a member of the DAV and the
American Production and Inventory Control Society. John and Lillian are frequent
travelers and have been all over the United States and Europe. John is an active
Master Gardener, an avid reader and he hooks rugs in his spare time. His claim to
fame is a circular rug with a three-foot replica of the Trailblazer insignia. The rug
is hooked with 11,670 hand-tied two and one-half inch pieces of red, white and green
wool yarn.
HAMLIN, JAMES C
James Hamlin joined Company A in the fall of 1954 at Fort Leonard Wood,
Missouri. He served as a machine gunner in the Fourth Platoon. James was
wounded in the shoulder and arm from enemy artillery fire in Les Vosges mountains
of France on January 10, 1945. He was evacuated to the 51st Station Hospital and
later taken to the 43rd General Hospital in Southern France. On April 7, 1945, he
returned to the US on the Hospital Ship Algonquin. He then went to Ashford General
Hospital, White Sulphur Springs, West Virginia. After his hospitalization, he went
to Fort George G Mead, Maryland where he remained until he was discharged on
March 22, 1946. James returned to Blacksburg, Virginia where he took mechanical
training with General Motors through the GI BILL and worked for Blacksburg
Chevrolet Motor Company until 1960. Subsequently he worked at the Virginia
Polytechnic Institute as a mechanic until he retired in January 1985. James and Viola
were married on December 26, 1942. Viola passed away in 1970. James and his
present wife, Phoebe Smith Hamlin, continue to live in Blacksburg. He is a member
of the Blacksburg, Virginia VFW Post-9898 and a life member of the DAV.
INGRAM, FRANK
Frank Ingram lives in Chattanooga, Tennessee.
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FIFTY YEARS LATER
JURY, DANIEL W
Daniel "Chief" Jury joined Company A on July 6, 1943. He went overseas as
a platoon guide then later became the Platoon Sergeant of the Second Platoon. After
the war, Dan went to the Third Infantry Division where he served in the Army of
Occupation. On September 20, 1945, Dan returned to the United States and to his
home in Millersburg, Pennsylvania. Dan and his wife Sarah "Sally" were married on
March 26, 1932, nearly a dozen years before he went overseas. Dan and Sarah had
a son who died at eight weeks of age and a daughter who was born a year before Dan
went into the Army. Their daughter Doris is a nurse in Millersburg and they have one
granddaughter, Marcia. Dan worked as a Lasting Foremen in the shoe manufacturing
industry for twenty-nine years. He is an active member of St. Paul's Lutheran
Church. He taught Sunday School for sixty-two years and was the Sexton of St.
Paul's for 27 years. He is active in both the VFW and the American Legion. He
organized a Firing Squad in the VFW and was its Captain for many years. Dan
served as a Volunteer Fireman until he gave it up when he was eighty years old. He
was president of the Millersburg Volunteer Fire Department for sixteen years, during
which time he helped organize an ambulance club. Dan served as president of the
Church Soft-ball League, Church Dart Baseball League, and the local Fast-pitch
softball League. He was also instrumental in forming a twilight baseball league.
KALAHIKI, SAMUEL
Samuel "Sammy" Kalahiki served in the Weapons Platoon. After the war,
Sammy returned to his home in Hawaii and went to work for the Honolulu Power
Company. He and his wife have seven sons. He is retired and they are living at
Kailua on the Big Island of Hawaii.
KELLY, JOSEPH F
Joseph "Joe" Kelly joined Company A in February 1945 at Folklingen while
the Company was manning the MLR south of Oeting. He was a rifleman assigned
to the Second Platoon. After the war, Joe served in the Army of Occupation with the
29th Infantry Regiment at Frankfurt, Germany. In July 1946 Joe returned to the
United States and to his home in Kirkwood, Missouri. He went to college and earned
a B.S. degree in Sociology and an M.S. in Social Work. Joe's career in counseling
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FIFTY YEARS LATER
was that of an Adoption Specialist. In 1963 Joe and his wife Marlene were married
in Long Beach, California and they now live in Omaha, Nebraska. Joe and Marlene
raised six children: Kathleen, John, Michael, Mark, Kevin and Ann. They have three
grandchildren. Having had eighteen years of Catholic Education (Grammar School
through Graduate School), Joe is an active member of the Catholic Church. His
lifelong hobbies are hunting and fishing. He is also active in civic affairs and has
worked on many Adoption-Related bills in the Nebraska Legislature.
KIMMLE, EDWARD A
Edward Kimmle served as a riflemen and messenger in the Second Platoon.
He came to Company A in January 1945 via Italy, while the Company was at Rosbruck, France. He was one of many Antiaircraft Artillerymen that suddenly found
themselves in the Infantry during the Ardennes-Alsace Campaign. After VE day, Ed
served in the Army of Occupation with the 29th Infantry near Frankfurt, Germany.
In April 1946 he sailed to the U.S. from Bremerhaven, Germany and was discharged
in May 1946. After the war, Ed returned to his home in O'Fallon, Illinois and to McKendree College at Lebanon, Illinois where he earned a Bachelor of Arts degree in
Economics. Ed earned a Master of Science Degree in Education and Supervision
from Southern Illinois University in 1955. He pursued a career as an educator and
as an Elementary School Principal, retiring in 1985 after 36 years in education.
Edward and Mildred were married in 1946 at O'Fallon, Illinois and raised four children: Kay Lynn, Karen, Kent, and Kendall. They have eight grandchildren. They
enjoyed traveling and have made two trips to Germany since the war. At the time
Company A was fighting in Forbach, France, Edward was not aware that he had
relatives living in Bad Bergzabern just 35 miles away. A winery started by the
Kimmle family in Dorrenbach in 1880 is still operating under the Kimmle name.
Edward and Mildred made O'Fallon their lifelong home. Edward passed away
December, 1995.
KOLLENBAUM, WILBERT
Wilbert Kollenbaum joined the Company in France on December 28, 1944,
after serving in Antiaircraft Artillery batteries since 1939. He arrived in England in
September 1942 with the 62nd AAA Gun Battalion and made the invasions of North
Africa, Sicily, Italy and Southern France. When the Ardennes-Alsace campaign got
250
FIFTY YEARS LATER
under way, Wilbert volunteered for the Infantry and was sent to Company A. He
served as a squad leader in the 4th Platoon and was wounded at Forbach. In March
1945 Wilbert transferred to Marseilles to serve as an interpreter aboard a Liberty Ship
bound for Virginia. He and his wife Marion were married in June of 1945 and have
two sons. Wilbert was an inspector for Pan Am until his retirement in 1980. He and
Marion reside at Bayonet Point, Florida where he is a member of FAM, Scottish Rite,
Shrines, Moose, Eagles, American Legion and VFW.
KORNACEWICZ, FRED M
Fred Kornacewicz and his wife Helen reside in Rome, New York.
KUCMEROSKY, THEODORE
Theodore "Ted" Kucmerosky joined Company A in January 1945 at Rosbruck,
France. He spent Christmas in Italy, then sailed on a British ship to Marseilles, and
rode 40 & 8's to Alsace-Lorraine. Ted served as a Runner in the Third Platoon.
After the war, he transferred to a unit slated to go to the Pacific, but like many others,
he never made it. He served several months in the Army of Occupation before
returning to his home in Elmira, New York. He went back to college and earned a
degree as a Mechanical Engineer and pursued a career as a Senior Design Engineer.
Since his retirement, Ted and his wife Ruth spend the summers in Connecticut and
the winters in Florida. They spend much of their leisure time fishing and traveling.
Ted and Ruth have five children and eight grandchildren.
LEDOUX, BRYAN
Bryan Ledoux joined the 70th Division at Camp Adair early in 1944. He
served as a BAR Man in the Second Platoon. After the war, Brian returned to his
home in Opelousas, Louisiana where he and his wife Rita raised their family. For
many years, he was the proprietor of the Ford Tractor Agency in Opelousas. In his
retirement, Brian keeps occupied as an auctioneer.
251
FIFTY YEARS LATER
LOWRY, FRANK H
Frank Lowry enlisted in the Army at Fort Douglas, Utah, December 2, 1942,
and took his basic training in Antiaircraft Artillery at Camp Callan, California. He
served in the ASTP Engineering program at Loyola University and as an aviation
cadet at Buckley Field, Colorado. Frank joined Company A at Camp Adair in March
1944. In Europe he served as a squad leader in the Third Platoon. Between VE Day
and VJ Day, he was a Company Information & Education NCO. After VJ day, he
served in the Army of Occupation with the Third Division and with the 78th Division
in Berlin. In April 1946 he returned to the US and was separated at Fort Bliss, Texas,
as a 2nd Lieutenant. He returned to his home in Glendale, California and enrolled at
Loyola University of Los Angeles where he obtained a BS degree in Accounting. He
and Dorothy were married at Holy Family Church in Glendale, November 23, 1946.
They have four children, Frank, Geri Ann, Teresa, and Susan and nine grandchildren.
On September 8, 1950, Frank returned to active duty and served in the Infantry and
Finance Corps during the Korean War. He was separated as a 1st. Lieutenant in
January 1953. After the Korean War, they made their home in Modesto, California
where Frank established a C.P.A. firm. He retired as Managing Partner in 1985. He
was a member of the Parish Councils of Our Lady of Fatima and St. Joseph Catholic
Churches. He is a Past Grand Knight and Past District Deputy of the Knights of
Columbus and is Past President of Serra Club of Modesto. He served as president
of Stanislaus County Estate Planning Council, and the California Society of Certified
Public Accountants (San Joaquin Chapter). He was the Treasurer of Sportsmen of
Stanislaus Club and a member of Central Catholic High School Board. He is a
member of the American Institute of Certified Public Accountants, American Legion,
VFW, Modesto Chamber of Commerce and Modesto Rotary Club. In 1967-1968 he
served on the U.S. Federal Grand Jury and in 1989 he received an award from the
City of Modesto for meritorious service and leadership.
MAGUIRE, RANDAL
Randal "Randy" Maguire joined Company A at Camp Adair in April 1944,
and served as a Machine gun squad leader in the Weapons Platoon. He had
previously served in the 291st Infantry and as an Aviation Cadet. He was wounded
in January 1945 during an 88mm barrage in Les Vosges mountains. When he
regained consciousness, he was in a 179th Infantry aid station, not knowing how he
got there. Besides his wounds, he had a severe case of trench foot. He was
252
FIFTY YEARS LATER
evacuated to a hospital in France and then to another in England. He left the hospital
in June 1945 and went to the 3rd. Military Government Regiment in the Army of
Occupation. In April 1946 Randy returned to his home in Illinois and enrolled in
Western Illinois University where he earned a Bachelor of Science Degree. He and
Doris were married in June 1949 and raised three sons. They also have three
grandchildren. Randy retired as a Branch Manager of Morton Buildings, Inc. He and
Doris now reside in Horseshoe Bend, Arizona, where he is active in civic affairs. He
is a member of the City Planning Commission, Auxiliary Police, Board of Zoning
Adjustment and Horseshoe Bend Kiwanis Club. His hobbies are Golfing and Square
Dancing.
MAYER, DEAN L
Dean Mayer joined the 70th Division at Camp Adair in February 1944, and
was assigned to Company G, 276th Infantry. He transferred to Company A in
January 1945, where he was a machine gun squad leader. Previously, Dean was an
Aviation Cadet and served in the ASTP program. He was wounded by shrapnel at
Forbach, France in February, 1945. In August 1945 Dean went to the Third Infantry
Division for duty in the Army of Occupation, after which he served with the 78th
Infantry Division at Bremerhaven, Germany. After the war, Dean returned to his
home in Alliance, Ohio and enrolled in college to pursue a degree in Mechanical
Engineering. He spent thirty-six years in many fields of research including
Hydraulic, Nuclear, Metallurgical, Metal forming, and new product development.
Dean has to his credit seven U.S. patents and many foreign patents. Dean and
Marjorie were married March 10, 1951, at Pleasant Lake, Indiana and raised five
children: Norm, Russ, Steve, Lynne, and Rog. They have eleven grandchildren.
They now reside at Fremont, Indiana. Dean is active in Church affairs and in the Boy
Scouts. He served as Vice-Chairman of his Church Board and for twenty-two years
he was a Boy Scout Leader. He is a member of the Elks and Moose Lodges, the
American Legion, VFW, American Society of Mechanical Engineers, and American
Society for Metals.
MCGRIFF, LAYLEN M
Laylen McGriff joined Company A at Camp Adair in April 1944. He served
as a rifleman in the First Squad of the First Platoon. Laylen was wounded in January
253
FIFTY YEARS LATER
1945 by a German 88 while fighting on "Hill 358" in Les Vosges mountains. After
his hospitalization he returned to his home in Brookville, Ohio, then went to work as
a Tool Grinder for General Motors Corporation in Dayton, Ohio. Laylen and his
wife Virginia were married in Kentucky in 1940. They raised two children, a
daughter Carolyn and a son Larry. They have six grandchildren and three greatgrandchildren. Laylen and Virginia continue to reside in Brookville.
MILLER, JOSEPH E
Joe Miller served as a rifleman in the Third Platoon. He came to Company A
from Company E as a reinforcement while the Company was at Rosbruck. He was
wounded at Forbach, France in February and returned to the Company in April at St.
Goarshausen on the Rhine River. Following the war, Joe returned to his home in
Jasonville, Indiana, where he went to work in the trucking industry. Joe and Mary
were married in Jasonville on August 20, 1965. He has two sons, three stepchildren,
and five grandchildren. Joe retired from the Teamsters in 1983 and in 1991 moved
to Searing, Florida where he and Mary now reside.
NEWBERRY, ANDREW B
Andrew Newberry and his wife Elizabeth reside in Silver Springs, Maryland.
O'BANION, HERBERT
Herbert O'Banion was a squad leader in the 4th Platoon. He lived in
Cincinnati, Ohio. Herbert died November 23, 1989.
PATTERSON, LLOYD A
Lloyd Patterson came to the 70th Division in March of 1943. He spent a year
in the 70th Quartermaster Company before transfer to Company A in the Spring of
1944. In Europe, he was a squad leader in the First Platoon. When the hostilities
ended, he served in the Army of Occupation in the Third Infantry Division and the
78th Infantry Division in Bremerhaven, Germany. Lloyd was separated from the
254
FIFTY YEARS LATER
service at Ft. Lewis, Washington on March 6, 1946, and returned to his home at
Salem, Oregon. He remained active in the Army Reserve and National Guard for 37
years, and was discharged with the rank of Major. Lloyd and Doris were married at
Silverton, Oregon in June of 1950 and have one son. He is a member of the Elks
Lodge, Moose Lodge, American Legion and VFW.
PIPER, WILLIAM J
William "Jimmy" Piper was stationed at Camp Adair at the time the 70th
Division was activated and served as a BAR man in the First Platoon. On January
11, 1945, he was wounded in the knee by 88mm artillery on "Hill 358" in Les Vosges
mountains. He was alone and crawled for three days before some GIs picked him up
and took him to an Aid Station. He was evacuated to Nancy, France where he
underwent the first of many surgeries. From Nancy he went to Paris General
Hospital, was put in a shipping cast and was flown in a C-47 to Mitchell Field, New
York. He was then taken to Billings General Hospital at Ft. Benjamin Harrison,
Indiana for more surgery. Upon discharge, Jimmy returned to his home in Iron River,
Michigan, but after a year he went to Southern California to escape from the cold
winters. He enrolled at Cal-Aero Tech where he earned diplomas in Aeronautical
Engineering and Aircraft Master Mechanics. Jimmy and LaVerne were married in
Los Angeles, May 15, 1948. They have one daughter. Jimmy worked as a
Manufacturing Engineer in the Los Angeles area and in Albuquerque until his war
wounds forced him to retire in 1980. He and LaVerne now reside in Veguita, New
Mexico where his hobbies are restoring antique autos and hunting. He is a life
member in the DAV and a long time member of the Elks Lodge.
PUPINSKI, CHESTER
Chester Pupinski was the Company A, 276th Infantry Mess Sergeant. Chester
lives in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
RAMAGOS, LLOYD J
Lloyd Ramagos was the Company bugler and a jeep driver. Lloyd lives in
Baton Rouge, Louisiana.
255
FIFTY YEARS LATER
SBROCCO, MARIO
Mario Sbrocco was an assistant squad leader in the Third Platoon. He is
retired from the construction industry and lives in Geneva, New York.
SHEELEY, GEORGE H
George Sheeley came to Company A at Ft. Leonard Wood in August 1944
after completing basic training at Camp Robinson, Arkansas. He served as both a
rifleman and BAR man in the Second Platoon. On January 11, 1945, George was
wounded in the shoulder and thigh by 88mm artillery shrapnel on "Hill 358." He
spent over two months in a general hospital at Vitel, France, then returned to the
Company at St. Goarshausen on the Rhine River. In August 1945 George went to
the Third Division to serve in the Army of Occupation at Kassel, Germany. After the
war he returned to his home in Raymore, Missouri and started on a life long career
with the United States Postal Service. For 17 years, he worked part time as a clerktypist for the Veterans Administration and the Weather Bureau. George and Dorothy
were married on August 30, 1946, in the Methodist Church in Raymore. They have
two daughters, Sheila and Jennifer, and three grandchildren. George is an Elder in
the Methodist Church, the Church Treasurer, and also teaches Sunday School. He
is a member of the VFW, American Legion, Order of the Purple Heart, and Raymore
Lions Club.
SHELANDER, ARNOLD G
Arnold "Red" Shelander was a Squad Leader in the Second Platoon and later
served as the Platoon Guide in the First Platoon. After the war he returned to his
home in Big Falls, Minnesota where he and his wife Betty were married in 1946.
They have one daughter and two grandchildren. "Red" and Dick Armstrong
remained lifelong friends and spent countless hours together in the North Woods
hunting and fishing. Arnold passed away in the Spring of 1993.
256
FIFTY YEARS LATER
SKALITZKY, EDWARD J
Edward "Jim" Skalitzky joined Company A in the fall of 1944 at Fort Leonard
Wood. In Europe he served as a squad leader in the Second Platoon. He was
wounded by a mortar blast at Forbach, France in February 1945 and spent three
months in a hospital at Nancy, France. For a year after leaving the 70th Division, he
had various assignments in the Army of Occupation. He first went to Eschwege,
Germany where he was in charge of 42 GIs who were attending an I & E(Information
and Education) school. From Eschwege, he went to Kassel, Germany where he had
the Regimental Driver & Mechanic School. Next he became the Provost Sergeant of
a large prison at Weisbaden. Jim's next assignment was to take 2500 Polish Displaced
Persons to Krackaw, Poland. On January 1, 1947 he sailed for New York and was
discharged from Fort Sheridan, Illinois. He returned to Remus, Michigan and after
a year on the farm, he went to work in the Oil Industry as an Operations Manager.
He and his wife Bonnie were married on October 9, 1954 in Remus. Jim and Bonnie
have three daughters and three grandchildren. He is retired and enjoys fishing,
boating, and traveling. He is an active member of the American Legion, VFW and
DAV. His hobby is collecting antique tractors.
SLOVER, ARTHUR E
Arthur "Art" Slover joined Company A at Camp Adair and served as an
Assistant Squad Leader in the First Platoon. Before his entry in the Army, he was a
country school teacher in the State of Iowa. Arthur was wounded in January 1945
on "Hill 403" in Les Vosges mountains of France and returned to the Company later
in the year. After VE Day, Art served as a Company Information & Education NCO.
In September 1945 he returned to the United States. Initially, Art made his home in
Los Angeles where he and his wife Ruby were married in 1950. Arthur went to work
for the United States Postal Service and was later transferred to Washington, D.C.
where he spent the greater part of his carrier. After his retirement from Government
Service and Ruby's death, Art moved to Salem, Oregon. Art remained in the Active
Reserve for many years and retired from the U. S. Army Reserve as a Chief Warrant
Officer. Art and Ruby have one daughter, Cindy, and two grandsons. Cindy is a
registered nurse in the State of Louisiana. Art died on August 15, 1995. He and
Ruby rest in Arlington National Cemetery.
257
FIFTY YEARS LATER
STEINER, JOHN JOSEPH
John Steiner joined Company A when the 70th Division moved to Fort
Leonard Wood, Missouri. He was a squad leader in the First Platoon and later the
Platoon Sergeant of the Third Platoon. John was born on January 8, 1916, in
Mineral Springs, North Dakota. When he was 17, he joined the Civilian Conservation Corps for three years, then later he joined the Army. Following his discharge in
1946, he moved to Amidon, North Dakota where he and his brother owned a filling
station and bar. He later moved to Belfield, North Dakota where on January 23,
1951, he married Patricia Kessel in St. Bernard's Catholic Church. John and Patricia
raised five sons and three daughters. John was an active member of St. Bernard's
Church. He was also active in the Knights of Columbus, American Legion,
Chamber of Commerce and Elks Club. He was the Fire Chief of the Belfield
Volunteer Fire Department. In 1986 the American Legion Baseball Field in Belfield
was dedicated to John for his service as manager of the Junior Legion Baseball Team.
John died on August 2, 1988 and was buried from St. Bernard's Church.
TOUPS, IRVIN B
Irvin Toups came to Company A as a replacement in January 1945. He served
as a rifleman in the Third Squad of the Third Platoon. After the hostilities ended,
Irvin went to the Third Infantry Division where he served in the Army of Occupation.
He returned to his home and family in Thibodaux, Louisiana where he was a
furniture salesman for 47 years. He and his wife Vivian were married in June 1940
and continue to reside in Thibodaux. They have two sons and five grandchildren.
TREMONTE, VETO
Veto Tremonte was the Company A bugler and also a jeep driver. Veto lives
in Lake Charles, Louisiana.
TSUKIMURA, EDDIE
Eddie Tsukimura joined Company A in the fall of 1944 at Ft. Leonard Wood
and served as a Company runner. Eddie was born in a small fishing village in Hawaii
258
FIFTY YEARS LATER
in 1920. At the age of eight, his family followed tradition and sent him to Japan for
study and discipline, where in high school near Hiroshima he was a marathon runner.
At seventeen, he returned to the U.S. and in 1941 (before Pearl Harbor) he was
drafted into the Army. Eddie was wounded in Les Vosges mountains in January
1945. After six months in hospitals in France and England, he was sent to a camp in
Arizona where he remained for the duration. For a few years Eddie pursued a joint
career in working for Douglas Aircraft and commercial fishing. He built his first
boat, "Aloha I" in 1949 and in 1950 got his first charter boat license. From 1960 to
1988 he was owner and skipper of the "Golden Doubloon" which was a charter
SCUBA diving boat he operated from the 22nd Street landing in San Pedro,
California. In addition to teaching and leading thousands of divers on adventures to
Catalina and the Channel Islands, his first voyage was to take the "Golden Doubloon"
through the Panama Canal into the Caribbean in search for lost shipwrecks. They
found rusty cannons and hurricanes but no treasure. Captain Eddie's years at San
Pedro have given him the status of Master Skipper to the crews of the other boats and
he was affectionately known as the "Skipper's Skipper." A bout with pneumonia in
1988 caused Captain Eddie to trade his dive boat for artist's brushes, gardening tools
and his motorcycles. Eddie and his wife, Masako, retired in San Pedro, California
where he maintained a Koi pond with many tropical fish and a Japanese garden.
Eddie and Masako have one daughter, Naomi. Eddie passed away July 13, 1997.
WAGGER, HAROLD J
Harold Wagger came to the 70th Infantry Division at Camp Adair with the
original cadre from the 91st Infantry Division. He served as the Platoon Sergeant
of the Third Platoon. After the fighting in Les Vosges mountains, Harold was
awarded a battle field commission and was made the Platoon Leader of the Second
Platoon. He was seriously wounded in the arm at Forbach in February 1945 and was
never able to return to the Company. After nearly two years in hospitals, Harold
returned to his home in North Carolina. He and his wife Renee were married shortly
after the war. They moved to New York in the early 1950's where Harold went into
the office furniture business. He is still and active partner in his firm. Harold and
Renee have two sons and a daughter.
259
FIFTY YEARS LATER
WAKEFIELD, JAMES
James Wakefield lives in Bixby, Oklahoma
WELTE, JOHN A
John Welte joined Company A at Camp Adair in July 1943. After Basic
Training, he was assigned to Company Headquarters as a jeep driver. He continued
in that capacity until the war ended in Europe, then was assigned to the Third Infantry
Division where he served in the Military Police. John was discharged from the Army
on April 1, 1946, and returned to his home in St. Louis, Missouri. He and LaVerne
were married in St. Louis in 1975. They have four children and ten grandchildren.
John was a meat cutter in St. Louis for 46 years and a member of the Meat Cutters
Local No. 88 for 57 years. John died on December 27, 1995.
WESTCOTT, LESTER E
Lester Westcott was a squad leader in the First Platoon. He was seriously
wounded at Wingen-sur-Moder by a gun shot wound in the chest. Lester died at
Boca Raton, Florida on August 20, 1988.
WISEMAN, ARVILLE
Arville Wiseman and his wife Jean reside in Croydon, Indiana.
WOOD, ROBERT L
Robert Wood joined the 70th Division at Camp Adair on August 9, 1943. He
had a prior tour of duty in the 18th Field Artillery at Fort Sill, Oklahoma from July
1938 until July 1941. He was as a Machine gun Squad Leader in the Weapons
Platoon. After the battle for Wingen, he was evacuated with frozen feet. He returned
to the Company a month later at Oeting only to be evacuated again at Forbach with
blood poisoning in a foot. He rejoined the Company in the Forbach Forest. In
October 1945, he transferred to the Third Division in the Army of Occupation. He
260
FIFTY YEARS LATER
returned to his home in Dallas, Texas and resumed his career as a machinist. He was
a Machinist-Supervisor for Texas Instruments for twenty-five years. Robert and his
wife Alma were married at Paris, Texas on June 21, 1941. They have one son,
William Robert Wood, and two granddaughters. Robert and Alma reside in Dallas
where they are active members of the Methodist Church.
YANNIAS, STEVE C
Steve Yannias entered the Army from Chicago and joined the 70th Division
at Camp Adair. He served as a rifleman in the Third Platoon. He was wounded in
January 1945 on "Hill 403" in Les Vosges mountains and later returned to the
Company. Steve and his wife Elaine reside in Addison, Illinois where he is a retired
pharmacist. They have two children.
YASUTAKE, HIDEMARU
Hidemaru "Johnnie" Yasutake joined Company A in the fall of 1944 at Ft.
Leonard Wood and served as a rifleman in the Second Platoon. Johnnie was a Nisei,
born in Sebastopal, California, who voluntarily enlisted in the Army. He was
seriously wounded during an enemy mortar attack at Wingen-sur-Moder on January
6, 1945 and was discharged from McGuire General Hospital, Richmond, Virginia on
February 28, 1946. Johnnie and his wife, Sachiko, were married in 1946 at Gila
River, Arizona Relocation Center. They have a son, Jimmy and a daughter, June.
After the war they lived in Chicago for a while, then moved back to the West Coast
where Johnnie opened a barber shop in Gardena, California. Johnnie died in the
Long Beach, California Veterans Hospital, June 27, 1993.
261
FIFTY YEARS LATER
U. S. Army Lorraine Military Cemetery - St. Avold, France
THE HILLS OF LORRAINE
On a bright spring morn,
I made there my pilgrimage
And raised my hand
To my brow in deepest homage,
Taps resounding in my memory
While tears coursed down my visage.
In the verdant Lorraine hills,
Marked by stars and crosses,
There is a place
Where legions of honored dead lie
In eternal peace and grace.
No more the boom of guns,
The flash, the crash of incoming mail,
The staccato machine gun chatter.
All is now still, quiet does prevail.
0, Comrade, if you can with dry eye
Render this salute,
You are made of sterner stuff than I.
BK
262
APPENDIX I
APPENDIX I
MEN OF COMPANY A, 276TH INFANTRY REGIMENT
KILLED IN ACTION OR DIED OF WOUNDS
NAME
ASN
BOUSQUET, ALFRED J, Pfc
CLEMENTS, CONNON U, Pfc
COMER, VINSON F, Pfc
CORBELL, CALVIN J, Pfc
CUMMINGS, JOHN B, Sgt.
ELAM, ROBERT C, Pfc
GALLOWAY JR, OLIVER J, T/Sgt.
GENTRY, OBLE, Pvt.
GROCE, ROBERT E, Pfc
KIRKHAM, VERLIN P, Sgt.
KLAEREN, WILLIAM M, Pfc
KUFERSIN, JOSEPH L, Pfc
LACKEY, JOHN E, Pfc
LEE, DUNCAN O, Pfc
LIGHTNER, ALAN W, Cpl.
LYLES, ERMAN L, Sgt.
MALDONADO JR, DOLORES M, Sgt.
MARTIN, MILTON M, Pfc
MARTINEZ, PABLO R, Pvt
MCCLINTOCK, RICHARD C, 2nd Lt.
MCDANIEL, WALTER O, Pfc
MCDANIELS, JACK P, T/5
MOORE JR, WILLIAM L, Pfc
PETERSON, ARTHUR F, Pfc
POWERS, WILBURN E, S/Sgt.
RENK, THEOPHIL J, Pvt.
ROBBINS, PAUL, Pfc
SCHOLLANDER, DONALD A, 2nd Lt.
SHOOTER, ROBERT J, Pfc
STONEHOUSE, GERALD D, Pfc
VALENZUELA, STEVEN G, Pvt.
WAGONER, JOHN H, Pfc
WAITE, NEAL M, M/Sgt.
WILSON, EUGENE D, Pvt.
263
11106758
38327844
13016919
39563351
36275466
35086666
34456074
38544897
35705657
36052955
36970731
32500377
39568184
34864615
39319197
34813489
39157513
34974611
18154359
01062247
44036625
39322312
20733014
13022351
17000812
39218167
42115373
0552164
35602516
36956964
39865003
33663835
39155559
35789169
PLAT00N
2nd
1st
3rd
1st
2nd
3rd
2nd
4th
3rd
4th
2nd
2nd
3rd
2nd
3rd
1st
2nd
2nd
2nd
3rd
4th
4th
Med
2nd
2nd
2nd
1st
2nd
2nd
2nd
3rd
2nd
2nd
2nd
DATE
May 3,1945
Jan 12,1945
Jan 12,1945
Jan 4,1945
Dec 31,1944
Jan 5,1945
Jan 12,1945
Mar 16,1945
Jan 5,1945
Jan 12,1945
Feb 20,1945
Jan 12,1945
Jan 5,1945
Feb 20,1945
Jan 12, 1945
Feb 20,1945
Jan 12,1945
Feb 20,1945
Jan 5,1945
Jan 5,1945
Mar 3,1945
Feb 17,1945
Jan 7,1945
Jan 5,1945
Jan 6,1945
Jan 12,1945
Jan 12,1945
Jan 10,1945
Jan 5,1945
Jan 6,1945
Jan 5,1945
Feb 20,1945
Jan 12,1945
Jan 5,1945
APPENDIX I
264
APPENDIX I
APPENDIX II
COMPANY A, 276TH INFANTRY REGIMENT
COMPANY ROSTER
December 31,19445
ADAMS, PAUL H, Pvt.
ARMSTRONG, RICHARD R, S/Sgt.
ARNEST, HOWARD L, 1st Lt.
ARTER, ELBERT D, Pfc
AUSTIN, WELTON E, Sgt.
BALL, RAY A Sr, Pvt.
BAMBRICK, EUGENE P, Pfc
BAREFIELD, DE WITT, Pvt.
BARK, LAURENCE D, Pvt.
BASEGIO, GUIDO, Pfc.
BLUME, JAMES T JR, Pfc
BOWER, GORDON J, Sgt.
BOYD, CAMERON, Pfc
BRENNER, ROBERT L, Pfc
BREWER, ROBERT, T/Sgt.
BRISTEL, ALBERT E Jr, Pfc
BROEK, JOHN H, T/4
BROWN, ODIS L, Pfc
BRUCE, DONALD S, Cpl.
BURRELL, GILBERT E, Pfc
CAIN, ROBERT M, Pfc
CAMPFIELD, DAVID R, Pfc
CARELLO, WILLIAM, Pvt.
CARPENTER, NATHAN L, Pfc
CARROLL, DON E, Pfc
CAUSEY, RUSSELL E, S/Sgt.
CHADBOURN, VAUGHN, S/Sgt.
CICCARELLO, JOSEPH A, Pfc
18099033
37573198
0455092
38699550
33757032
34926321
32799004
39075994
17176849
19185040
36683357
36830503
39199321
37564633
6569526
35076547
32769161
37501069
31281585
33933137
37696852
37639628
35077204
39556266
34456480
11133405
5
The author compiled this roster from General Orders that listed those men who were awarded the Combat Infantry Badge, accordingly it is
possible that some names may have been inadvertently omitted. It includes only the names of those who were members of Company A when it
arrived overseas and does not include the many replacements who joined the Company at later dates.
265
APPENDIX II
CLEMENTS, CONNON U, Pfc
CLINE, DONALD C, Pfc
COLLINS, FRED, S/Sgt.
COMER, VINSON F, Pfc
CONRADES, STANLEY A, Pvt.
CONTENTA, PETER A, Pvt.
COOK, VIRGIL C, S/Sgt.
CORBELL, CALVIN J, Pfc
COSTINEW, ALEXANDER A, Pfc
CUMMINGS, JOHN B, Sgt.
DARSEY, FRANK E, Pfc
DAVIS, EUGENE C, Pfc
DAVIS, OLLIE, Pfc
DEVINE, FRANCIS T, Sgt.
DICKEY, HOWARD D, Pfc
DOBBINS, WILLIAM W, Pfc
DOENGES, WILLIAM D, 2nd Lt.
DORNER, EDWARD J, Pfc
DROZDOWSKI, HENRY J, Pvt.
DRURY, BURTON K, Pvt.
DUBOSE, DON L, Pvt.
EAKER, JEAN M, Pvt.
EBERHARDT, ALFRED F, Pfc
EDDY, CHARLES E, Pvt.
ELAM, ROBERT E, Pfc
ETHEREDGE, EDGAR E, T/Sgt.
ETHRINGTON, JAMES L, Pvt.
FINNEY, LLOYD R, Pvt.
FRIEDMAN, JOEL E, Pfc
GALLOWAY, OLIVER JR, T/Sgt.
GENTRY, OBLE, Pvt.
GIERSZEWSKI, HARRY S, Pfc
GODAIRE, ARTHUR J, Pfc
GOINS, WILLIAM O, Pfc
GOSSAGE, JAMES E, Pvt.
GRANGER, EARL D, Sgt.
GRIFFEY, MILLIS A, Pfc
GROCE, ROBERT E, Pfc
GROVE, RICHARD E, Pvt.
HALLER, JOHN L, Sgt.
HAMLIN, JAMES C, Pvt.
38327844
35903724
34434473
13016919
33888322
31465990
35771320
39563351
36961652
36275466
38656114
39465492
38656201
36227565
15402212
33843830
01321890
36643184
36975538
37640926
38655718
37640457
33835606
37743337
35086666
6268856
38478799
36726452
42135110
34456074
38544897
36746030
31408799
34191969
38666813
20944369
38688735
35705657
16190239
35536379
33217260
266
APPENDIX II
HARMON, JUDSON L, S/Sgt.
HASTINGS, JAMES S
HENDRICKSON, DEAN M, Capt.
HIGGS, ARTHUR C, Cpl.
HOCKWATER, EDWARD J, Pfc
HOWE, WILLIAM M, T/5
JAROS, HAROLD J, Pfc
JENKINS, LESTER N, 2nd Lt.
JOHNSON, ALBERT E, Pfc
JOHNSON, THOMAS E, Pvt.
JOHNSON, RAYMOND F JR, Pvt.
JOHNSON, GEORGE A, Pvt.
JORDAN, HAROLD J
JURY, DANIEL W, S/Sgt.
KADUBIK, HARRY, Pfc
KAIMI, WILLIAM W, Pfc
KALAHIKI, SAMUEL, Pfc
KESSLER, ELMER N, Pvt.
KIRKHAM, VERLIN P, Sgt.
KLAEREN, WILLIAM M, Pfc
KOHLER, CHARLES F, Pfc
KRUEGER, ROBERT H, Pfc`
KUFERSIN, JOSEPH L, Pfc
LACKEY, JOHN E, Pfc
LACLAIR, RAYMOND G, Pvt.
LEBRECHT, JACK L, Pvt.
LEDOUX, BRYAN J, Pfc
LEE, JAMES, Pfc
LEE, DUNCAN O, Pfc
LEIJA, CARLOS, Pfc
LEISURE, JAMES E, Pfc
LEMONIE, MICHAEL J, Pfc
LEWELLYN, WILLIAM E, Pvt.
LIGHTNER, ALAN W, Cpl.
LOWE, BILLY G SR, Pfc
LOWRY, FRANK H, Pfc
LYLES, ERMAN L, Sgt.
MALDONADO, DOLORES M JR, Sgt.
MARTIN, MILTON M, Pfc
MARTINEZ, PABLO R, Pvt.
MARTYNIUK, ERNEST T, Pfc
34434473
42117899
0392078
33745695
42116806
36683214
36023160
0556313
39147713
39211317
12241686
37111273
34980957
33514333
33939803
30110970
30111260
37595546
36052955
36970731
37614522
36729487
32500377
39568184
36974238
6292322
38653216
34800686
34864615
38561566
35833224
42140641
35076909
39319197
37744259
19153195
34813489
39157513
34974611
18154329
36891911
267
APPENDIX II
MASTIN, HOLTON H, Pfc
MCCLINTOCK, RICHARD L, 2nd Lt.
MCDANIEL, WALTER O, Pfc
MCDANIELS, JACK P, T/5
MCDOWELL, EDWARD L, Pfc
MCGINN, ROBERT J, Cpl.
MCGRIFF, LAYLEN M, Pfc
MCGUIRE RANDAL, Sgt.
MEYER, WALTER E, Pfc
MICHERDZINSKI, DANIEL F, Sgt.
MOLINARI, PATRICK A
MOORE, WILLIAM L JR, Pfc
MOTE, CLYDE A, Pfc
MUSSLER, JOHN R, Pfc
NELKER, WESLEY W, S/Sgt
O'BANION, HERBERT JR, Pfc
PALACIO, ALBERT D, 1st/Sgt.
PATTERSON, LLOYD A, Pfc
PERACHIO, THOMAS P, Pfc
PETERSON, ARTHUR F, Pfc
PETSCHE, MARVIN A, Pfc
PHELAN, GEORGE F, Pfc
PIEROTTI, DAVID, Pfc
PIPER, WILLIAM J, Pfc
POWERS, WILBURN E, S/Sgt.
PUPINSKI, CHESTER, S/Sgt
RAMAGOS, LLOYD J, Pfc
REBMAN, JOHN L, Pfc
RENK, THEOPHIL J, Pvt.
RICE, MILLARD S, Pvt.
RIGGS, ROBERT C, Pfc
ROBBINS, PAUL, Pfc
ROLLS, GEORGE W, Sgt.
RUSSELL, ODE E JR, Pfc
SADLER, CLYDE F, Pfc
SBROCCO, MARIO A, Pvt.
SCHMITZ, WILLIAM R JR, Sgt.
SCHOLLANDER, DONALD A, 2nd Lt.
SZCZAWINSKI, MELVIN J, Sgt.
SHEELEY, GEORGE H, Pfc
SHELANDER, ARNOLD G, S/Sgt.
35087020
01062247
44036625
39322312
38066353
36370506
35076736
36479361
32518362
42021413
42129885
20733014
18243216
35530701
33731251
35077216
18017526
39328526
33927329
13022351
37683600
12091886
39127338
36835910
17000812
7071198
38487757
36961671
39218167
6861461
37532141
42115373
39563588
35559653
19184879
32734769
16132970
0552164
36274869
37743431
37024321
268
APPENDIX II
SHELLEY, JENNINGS, Pvt.
SHOOTER, ROBERT J, Pfc
STITES, LEROY B, Pfc
SKALITZKY, EDWARD J, Pfc
SKOPP, GERVASE D, Sgt.
SLOVER, ARTHUR E, Sgt.
SMITH, WHEELER E, Pfc
SMITH, ELLIS M, Pfc
STEINER, JOHN J, S/Sgt.
STONEHOUSE, GERALD D, Pfc
STORTS, DALE J, Pfc
TREMONTE, VITO, Pfc
TRIER, DEAN R, Pfc
TSUKIMURA, EDDIE S, Pfc
UCZYNSKI, LEON V, S/Sgt.
VALENZUELA, STEVEN G, Pvt.
WAGGER, HAROLD J, T/Sgt.
WAGONER, JOHN H, Pfc
WAITE, NEAL M, M/Sgt.
WAKEFIELD, JAMES W, Pfc
WELTE, JOHN A, Pfc
WESTCOTT, LESTER E, S/Sgt.
WESTERMAN, WILLIAM R, Pvt.
WHELAN, WILLIAM K, Pfc
WICKIZER, JAMES H, Pvt.
WIEHE, KARL W, Pvt.
WIELAND, MILTON J, Pfc
WIENEKE, EARL B, Pfc
WIERCHOWSKI, EDWIN A, Pfc
WILSON, VERNON V, S/Sgt.
WILSON, EUGENE D, Pvt.
WISEMAN, ARVILLE, Pfc
WITHROW, MORGAN F, Pvt.
WOLINSKI, LEONARD T, Pvt.
WOOD, ROBERT L, Sgt.
YANNIAS, STEVE C, Pfc
YASUTAKE, HIDEMARU, Pfc
35081268
35602516
36418132
36980955
36683780
37033160
34925731
35248313
37096812
36956964
36559991
37696993
39166885
33366567
39865003
34434415
33663835
39155559
38663640
37620755
37571660
36982096
32830062
35901224
37345621
37573443
35839544
6980577
38065423
35789169
35833499
33704297
36982990
38532191
36644451
19082526
269
APPENDIX II
This sketch of the Catholic Church where the American POWs were held was provided by Wolf T. Zoepf
270
APPENDIX III
APPENDIX III
Recollections of Wolf T. Zoepf, former Adjutant and Headquarters
Company Commander of the 3rd Battalion, 12th Regiment, 6th SS
Mountain Division (NORD), in a letter to the author:
WINGEN-sur-MODER : 45 Years Ago
January 6th 1945
January 6th 1990
There are events you will hardly forget, not in 45 years, never in your life. . .
Such as the night and early morning of January 6, 1945.
Dead tired after another day of defending Wingen, we were trying to get some sleep in the
vaulted cellar of the three-storied building that until recently used to be the "Hotel de la
Gare" next to the railroad station, two days ago elected as the command post of the 3rd
Battalion. We had moved into the cellar after most of the windows had been shot out, the
walls of the "Hotel" damaged by direct hits from tanks firing from the Kirchberg, which
borders the Moder valley south of the town. We: that is the battalion commander
Kreuzinger, a few messenger-runners maintaining the communication to our companies, a
man from our signal platoon trying in vain to establish a radio link to whatever radioman
may hear him behind the German lines seemingly so far away; he tries that for the third day
now, his battery power is running dangerously low: no success. And myself, the battalion
adjutant and CO of the headquarters company. In addition three aged villagers, two women
and one man who share the cellar with us since yesterday: their house had been so badly
damaged by enemy artillery that they took refuge in "our" cellar.
"It is quiet outside, treacherously quiet, but for the occasional harassing artillery fire from
American guns in the south. I try to snatch a few minutes of sleep.
"Our food is getting scarce. Our last regular supply was three days ago on the evening before
we marched to Wingen; it consisted of a half loaf of bread per man, period. "You will have
to get your next food from the Americans!" was the last message on this subject. Well, we
found some K-rations (the waxed brown boxes looked like dynamite charges to some of out
men at first), we marvelled at the quality of the contents. But, hungry as we were, there was
not much left after two days. So we started on a unique diet: sweet preserves and American
cigarettes ... The preserves from the storerooms of the village.
"But not only our food is getting scarce, also our ammunition. Some idiots higher up had
decided to change our machine guns from the familiar MG34 to the ultrafast MG42 during
our few days in Denmark. The result: we are using three times more rounds per unit of time,
271
APPENDIX III
our gunners are running out of ammo and already had to be ordered to shoot only when
targets can be clearly identified. Everybody knows that there will be no resupply, unless
through reinforcements from the outside. We still hope that some energetic unit will succeed
in breaking the ring that cuts us off from the outside, succeed in establishing a corridor to the
German MLR in the North that could be used to resupply our two battalions and -even more
urgent - to evacuate speedily our wounded. When receiving our attack orders for Wingen
we were promised a battalion of selfpropelled assault guns as soon as Wingen is in our
hands. With those assault guns and further reinforcements we were to carry our push further
to the Saverne Gap...
"I must have dozed off, but am wide awake in a moment: There is a commotion at the
entrance where we have a guard. Enters Oldenburg, our regimental signal officer. He is the
first (accompanied by two noncoms) who found a gap in the American lines encircling
Wingen. What news is he carrying from higher headquarters, where is our reinforcements,
where are those assault guns? Instead, the orders from General Philippi (CG, 361st Volks
Grenadier Division) for our two battalions are to withdraw from Wingen, move north and
occupy lines somewhere in the Rotbach Valley... We are dumbfounded and seriously
shocked! Shall all our sacrifices be in vain? What will happen with our wounded?
"Also in our command post is now the CO of the 1st Battalion, Burgstaller and his adjutant
Carlau. It is past 0600 hrs already and there will be daylight soon; any thought of withdrawal
now is out of question. We will have to hold Wingen for another day, putting up a delaying
defense, save as many lives as possible. We will have to wait for the mercy of darkness, for
the coming night to have even a bit of a chance to withdraw unrecognized by the enemy from
here... We will have to take care that no exposed elements are being cut off during the
American attacks which we anticipate will start again shortly. To this effect Burgstaller and
Carlau with their little staff move into our command post, so as to avoid communication
problems between our two battalions.
"As expected the preparatory artillery and mortar fire starts shortly after 0700 hrs, now
directed more to the church and its vicinity. Soon we hear machine gun and small arms fire,
American, and ours responding. We wait in vain for reports from our attacked companies.
The battle noise is getting stronger by the hour, we also hear American tanks move up the
road, shooting into the houses to soften up our defense.
"Shortly after 1300 hrs the American attack is gaining momentum, it is coming dangerously
nearer. It is high time for us to leave the cellar if we want to avoid getting smoked out.
Carlau and I rally all available men not already wounded, but find only a bare handful,
perhaps a dozen. We move out of the cellar, move directly right around the corner, running
up the road to the railroad station. It is getting dark, the only occasional light comes from
burning houses. Now the battle noise is directly below us, between the houses facing the Rue
272
APPENDIX III
de la Gare. If we cannot fend off the enemy now, he will succeed in cutting off the
companies of the 1st Battalion, and - if allowed to reach the church - liberate the prisonersof-war we keep there.
"We are getting a bit of reinforcement from elements of our 15th company now withdrawing
from their exposed emplacements on the wooded high ground north of the railroad, Together
we start a counterattack, yelling and shooting with all we can muster, mindless of our ammo
shortage. We just run down from the railroad station, jumping fences, blind to the angry
response of the American machine guns. It is as if we have caught the enemy by surprise,
at least he did not seem to have expected us from this direction. We seemed to have stopped
his advance (we only now know that at the time we had Casey67 and his braves of G/274 in
front of us). We feel utterly exhausted, the same seems to be true for the enemy . The noise
has abruptly quieted down except for some occasional small arms fire. It is pitch dark but
for the flickering light from the burning houses. It is as if the battle of the day is over...
"Carlau and I return to our unified command post in the cellar. It is high time for planning
the withdrawal out of our present emplacements, the darkness we have waited for is here.
We have no connections, no news from the 3rd company (1st Bn), last at the road fork in the
"Blue House"; they must have been overwhelmed by today's attack. From other companies
at least remnants are left. A problem by itself are our wounded: we will have to leave not
only our severe wounded in Wingen at the mercy of the enemy, but also all lighter wounded
that will not be able to walk and climb the wooded mountains on our retreat route. It is a bit
of comfort to know that they will be cared for by Dr. Lautenschlager, the medical officer of
the 1st Bn, in charge of the make-shift medical station in Wingen, assisted by our own and
American medics; they volunteered to stay behind with the wounded of both sides.
"We decide against taking the American prisoners-of-war (256 is their last count) from the
Catholic church with us: we would not have enough men to guard them, they will only
impede our quiet retreat. But we will take the eight American officers with us (they are
permitted to escape next morning when we have the encounter with the 180th Inf/45th
Division).
"When detaching from the enemy now it is of utmost importance that our movement is not
detected! The companies exposed farthest have to quietly disengage themselves first,
passing through the lines of the companies further back, and then sneak through the rest of
the town towards the eastern RR underpass. We will assemble beyond this underpass on the
NE outskirts of the town.
6
Lt. Fred J “Casey” Cassidy, CO Company G, 276th Infantry
273
APPENDIX III
"I still see myself standing in the underpass, hurrying the men on to the assembly point,
waiting for the last ones to pass through. It has started to snow again. My thoughts are back
in the town: it is utterly incredible for me that all our heavy losses should have been in vain.
What have we gained? Groups of dead tired men stumble through the underpass, not more
than half a dozen at a time, minutes apart, too tired to speak. Every few minutes or so the
American artillery is firing a round into the wooded hills behind me. Another small group
of men: 'Are you the last ones?' 'We don't know, sir' is their tired answer. It is hard for me
to believe that our retreat will continue undetected by the enemy. I give our action at best
a chance of 50:50. Who will come next? Our own men, or already Americans on reconnaissance, or in pursuit? It is past midnight when a platoon sergeant with the rest of his men
believes that he is the last, is quite sure that nobody of ours follow him. I go finally with
them. - Twelve hours later the war is over for me; but that is another story..."
Wolf T. ZOEPF
Frank Lowry, Willie Grottenstroeder, Arthur Slover and Wolf Zoepf, former adversaries at the battle of Wingen-sur-Moder, meet
in Las Vegas, Nevada, September 8, 1990.
274
APPENDIX III
GLOSSARY
Army
ASN
AT
BAR
Bazooka
Burp-gun
C Ration
CG
CO
Corps
CP
Dog tags
DUKW (or Duck)
ETO
FA
FO
GI
GIs
Goldbrick
HQ
Incoming mail
IP
Jerry can
K Ration
KIA
LD
Lister bag
M1
MG
MIA
MLR
Mortar
NCO
OD
OP
OPLR
Outgoing mail
Panzerfaust
POE
Potato masher
Rank and file
Ranks:
Pvt.
Pfc
Two or more corps plus headquarters, etc
Army serial number
Anti-tank gun; Anti-tank Company
Browning automatic rifle
Anti-tank rocket launcher
German MG-40 submachine gun
Field ration packed in two small cans
Commanding General
Commanding Officer, Company, Battalion or Regiment
Two or more divisions plus headquarters and other units
Command post
Metal identification tags on a chain worn around a soldiers neck denoting his name,
serial number, blood type and religion.
Amphibious truck
European Theater of Operations
Field Artillery Corps
Forward Observer (Field Artillery)
Government Issue; American soldier
Diarrhea: Plural of GI
Lazy slob
Headquarters
Incoming artillery
Initial point (Start of a march)
5 gallon water or gasoline can
Field ration packed in waxed container
Killed in action
Line of Departure (Starting point for an attack)
Large canvas bag used to store fresh water
30 cal Garand rifle (Standard weapon for infantry riflemen)
Machine gun
Missing in Action
Main Line of Resistence (Defensive force)
High trajectory weapon (generally 60 mm or 81 mm)
Noncommissioned Officer
Olive drab; ODs - GI wool uniform
Observation Post
Outpost line of resistance (Defensive force)
Artillery directed at the enemy
German antitank rocket launcher
Port of Embarkation
German hand grenade on the end of a handle
A body of soldiers as distinguished from officers
Private
Private First Class
275
GLOSSARY
Cpl.
T-5
Sgt.
T-4
S/Sgt.
T/Sgt.
1st Sgt.
M/Sgt.
2nd Lt.
Capt.
Maj.
Lt. Col
Col.
Brig. Gen.
Maj. Gen.
Lt. Gen.
Gen.
Regt.
S-1
S-2
S-3
S-4
Sack time
SNAFU
SOP
SOS
TD
TE
TO
Unit
U.S. Infantry Units:
Rifle Squad
Rifle Platoon
Rifle Company
Battalion
Regiment
Division
WIA
XO, Exec.
Corporal
Technician 5th Grade
Sergeant
Technician 4th Grade
Staff Sergeant
Technical Sergeant
First Sergeant
Master Sergeant
2nd Lieutenant
Captain
Major
Lieutenant Colonel
Colonel
Brigadier General
Major General
Lieutenant General
General
Regiment
Adjutant (Bn. or Regt. level)
Intelligence Officer (Bn. or Regt.)
Operations Officer (Bn. or Regt.)
Supply Officer (Bn. or Regt.)
Sleep or shut-eye
Situation Normal - All fucked up
Standard operating procedure
Shit on the Shingle (Creamed chipped beef on toast)
Self propelled anti-tank gun
Table of Equipment
Table of Organization
A group of soldiers such as a squad, platoon, company, etc.
Twelve riflemen
Three squads
Three rifle platoons plus one light weapons platoon
Three rifle companies plus one heavy weapons company
Three battalions
Three regiments
Wounded in Action
Executive Officer
276
GLOSSARY
INDEX
105mm artillery . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 190, 193, 201
179th Infantry . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70, 84, 85, 137, 252
274th Infantry . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22, 84, 106, 108, 109, 112, 113, 204, 207, 218
275th Infantry . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 125, 133, 179
276th infantry . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ii, iii, 6, 10, 17, 22, 28, 33, 38, 39, 41, 46, 49, 54, 57, 58, 69, 71, 84, 85, 95, 103, 108, 118,
125, 134, 158-160, 175, 185, 188, 204, 207, 213-215, 218, 223, 229,
237, 238, 241, 253, 255, 263, 265, 273
45th Infantry Division . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58, 84, 102, 103, 113, 144
6th SS Mountain Division . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 97-99, 143, 271
88mm artillery . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 178, 195, 254, 255
Alsace . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ii, 3, 11, 20, 41, 43, 45, 51, 52, 55, 56, 58, 61-63, 65, 66, 98, 115, 165, 207, 250, 251
Alsace-Lorraine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52, 56, 63, 65, 66, 115, 165, 251
Alsatians . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51, 52, 56, 66
Armstrong, T/Sgt Richard
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ii, 16, 86, 87, 91, 96, 127, 136, 140, 144, 150, 163, 166, 171, 172, 178,
187, 192, 193, 206, 217, 228,233, 239-242, 256, 265
Arnest, 1st Lt. Howard L. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15, 81, 86-88, 90, 93, 96, 105-107, 113, 122, 123, 126-131, 134-137,
142-147, 149, 163, 265
Arter, Pfc Elbert . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 147, 148, 155, 265
Austin Sgt. Welton . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10, 265
Avery, Quinten . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 242
Bambrick Pfc Eugene . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77, 82, 89, 93, 94, 106, 131, 132, 142, 155, 159, 243, 265
Barefield, De Witt . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 86, 265
Barnett, Major Gen. Allison J . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47, 167, 188, 223
Barnett, 1st Sgt Woodrow
Behren, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 167
Bischwiller, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44-47, 49
Bitche, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57, 61, 63, 65-67, 70, 71, 123, 157
Bloody Axe . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6, 17, 175, 181, 188, 226, 230
Blume, James . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 136, 265
Bousquet, Alfred . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 184, 233, 263
Bower, Sgt. Gordon
Boyd, Cameron . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 78, 149, 243, 265
Brenner, Robert . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 147, 265
Brewer, 2nd Lt. Robert . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15, 16, 55, 86, 87, 97, 107, 109, 136, 163, 166, 177, 183, 189, 197-200, 202, 203,
213, 217, 219-221, 223, 238, 239, 242, 265
Brooks, Maj. Curtis A . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7, 15, 76
Brown, Odis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
4, 265
Brumath, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41, 43, 44, 50
Bundick, William . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 244
Camp Adair . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5, 7, 9, 10, 15, 17, 43, 166, 224, 244, 246, 247, 251-254, 257, 259, 260
Camp Joyce Kilmer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 240
Camp Myles Standish . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17-19, 22, 44, 98
Carello, Mrs.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
20
Carello, Pvt. William . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13, 19, 20, 25, 26, 49, 244, 265
Carroll, Don . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57, 122, 159, 244, 265
Cassidy, Capt. Fred . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 108, 273
Causey, S/Sgt. Russell E . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ii, 7, 16, 77, 78, 128, 137, 140, 164, 236, 241, 244, 265
Cheves, Lt. Col Wallace R. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84, 98, 102, 108
Christmas Day 1944 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40
Ciccarello, Joseph . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19, 148, 149, 245, 265
Clements, Connon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 96, 106, 132, 142, 156, 263, 265
Colmar, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61, 63, 65, 207
Combat Infantrymen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . iii, 1, 3, 115, 206, 213
Comer, Vinson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 156, 263, 265
Company B, 276th Infantry . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71, 76, 83-85, 95-97, 103, 113, 130, 175-177, 179, 217, 245
Company C, 276th Infantry . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71, 125, 126, 130, 131, 134, 175, 177-179, 207-209, 212, 217, 223, 229
Company D, 276th Infantry . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71, 19
Company G, 274th Infantry . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 106
Cook, S/Sgt. Virgil . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8, 13, 16, 77, 138, 213, 236, 238, 245, 265
277
INDEX
Corbel, Calvin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81
Cummings, Sgt. John . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12, 27,53, 54, 263, 266
Darsey, Frank . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 246, 266
Davis, Eugene . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
82, 231, 236
Davis, S/Sgt Ollie . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
14,70,217,218
de Gaulle, General Charales . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65
de Tassigny, General . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61
Delta Base CP-2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31, 32, 37, 47
Devers, Lt. General Jacob . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61
Devine, Sgt. Francis (Andy) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10, 137-140, 266
Dijon, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41
Doenges, 1st Lt William . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16, 52, 81, 83, 84, 86, 88, 93, 107, 127, 128, 135, 136, 143, 145, 146, 148, 151, 152, 155, 159,
161, 163, 191, 209, 266
Drury, Burton . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ii, 86, 87, 91-93, 241, 246, 266
Dubose, Don . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77, 92, 205, 207, 231, 266
DUKWS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55
Earnstauffer, Sgt. Carl . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4, 10, 17
Eisenhower, Gen Dwight . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62
Elam, Robert . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 115, 263, 266
Etheredge, T/Sgt Edgar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16, 79, 105, 266
Finney, S/Sgt. Lloyd . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 163, 164, 184, 197, 199, 217, 220, 266
First French Army . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47, 61, 65, 207
Firstenhausen, Germany . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 226, 227
Forbach, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 175, 177, 179, 181-185, 188, 190-194, 196, 197, 200-208, 210-216, 220, 223, 225, 236, 247,
250, 253, 256, 259, 260
Fort Leonard Wood . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10, 11, 15, 17, 43, 98, 225, 246-248, 256, 257
Friedman, Joel . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 152, 266
Galloway, T/Sgt. Oliver . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4, 7, 16, 19, 50, 55, 73, 131, 145, 149, 150, 156, 263, 266
Gaubiving, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 167, 169, 170, 172
Gentry, Oble . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 263, 266
Gossage, James . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87, 91, 266
Granger, S/Sgt. Earl . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15, 91, 92, 164, 206, 239, 241, 247, 266
Green, Ruban . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5, 15, 53, 80, 105, 165, 216, 247, 248
Greenwalt, Capt. William . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 130, 223
Griffey, Millis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 130, 131, 159, 266
Groce, Robert . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 107, 115, 263, 266
Haas, “Doc” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 187, 191
Haller, S/Sgt. John L . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ii, 9, 10, 12, 19, 20, 50, 56, 77, 80, 104, 113, 118, 131-133, 139, 142, 145, 163, 164, 166, 186,
187, 190, 205, 233, 236, 237, 239, 241, 247, 266
Hamlin, James . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 135, 140, 248, 266
Harmon, T/Sgt Judson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16, 128, 139, 143, 163, 164, 172, 187, 192, 211, 266
Hartman, John . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 96
Hendrickson, Capt Dean . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15, 17, 18, 46, 47, 49, 71, 75, 85, 86, 88, 90, 91, 93, 266
Herren, Brig. Gen. Thomas, R . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46, 47, 49, 58, 84, 85, 95, 144, 158, 167, 175
Hill 358 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 143, 144, 147-149, 151, 155, 163, 243, 245, 253-255
Hitler, Adolf . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27, 38, 56, 62, 63, 65, 66, 82, 97, 114, 186, 198
Holland, Sgt. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61, 239
Ingram, Frank . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 209, 248
Ingwiller, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58, 63, 71, 98
Iverson, Lt. Col. Sidney . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85, 95
Jaros, S/Sgt Harold . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81, 142, 164, 177, 182, 185, 190, 266
Jenkins, 2nd Lt Lester . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16, 128, 139, 140, 143, 149, 164, 192, 193, 209, 227, 266
Jury, T/Sgt Daniel . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ii, 12, 13, 16, 79, 107, 143, 144, 147, 148, 155, 163, 164, 166, 177, 183-185, 188-191, 205, 207209, 211, 216, 233, 237, 241, 248, 252, 267
Kaimi, William . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7, 267
Kalahiki, Samuel . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7, 249, 267
Keane, Edgar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 183
Kelly, Joseph . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 246, 249
Kerber, 2nd Lt. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 164, 192
Kimmle, Edward . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 185, 191, 241, 250
Kirchberg Forest . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70, 71, 73, 75, 79, 80, 102, 271
278
INDEX
Kirkham, Sgt. Verlin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16, 145, 156, 263, 267
Klaeren, William . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12, 190, 213, 263, 267
Kollenbaum, Sgt. Wilbert . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 187, 206, 250
Kornacewicz, Fred . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 251
Kucmerosky, Theodore . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 165, 167, 177, 199, 233, 234, 251
Kufferson, Joseph . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10
Lackey, John . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13, 107, 115, 263, 267
Lauterbourg, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47, 49, 61
Ledoux, Brian . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8, 9, 27, 104, 105, 131, 132, 142, 145, 239, 251, 267
Lee, Duncan . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 191, 213, 263, 267
Leija, Carlos . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14, 144, 197, 205, 216, 217, 231, 267
Les Vosges . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58, 63, 65-67, 69, 70, 83, 97, 98, 112, 115, 119, 123, 125-127, 132, 134, 143, 148, 156-158,
161, 163, 166, 205, 215, 218, 236, 243, 244, 248, 252-254, 257-260
Lightner, Cpl. Alan . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 147, 156, 263, 267
Line of Departure (LD) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122, 125-127, 169, 175, 207, 208, 223, 224, 226, 275
Lorelei . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 237, 238
Lorheim, Germany . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 233
Lowry, S/Sgt. Frank . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77, 89, 92, 110, 122, 129, 131-133, 137, 164, 186, 254, 251,274
Luscatoff, William . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 231
Lyles, Sgt. Erman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 193, 213, 263, 267
Lyon, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40, 41
Maginot Line . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 157, 159
Maldonado, Sgt. Dolores . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 156, 263, 267
Malmady, Belgium . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 141, 153
Marie Madeleine Hospital . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 182, 183, 185, 188, 192
Marlow, Leon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 191
Marseilles, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21, 29, 31, 32, 34, 40, 41, 165, 250, 251
Marsh, Serenc . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 190
Martin, Milton . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 191, 213, 263, 267
Martinez, Pablo . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 115, 263, 267
Mastin, Alex . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 267
Matla, Ignace . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 167, 172, 173, 198, 204, 207, 230, 231, 233
Matthews, Capt. Jackson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 163, 167, 169, 171, 178, 183, 184, 188-191, 207, 212, 215, 217, 220, 221, 223, 239
Mayer, Sgt. Dean . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19, 164, 192, 203, 204, 209, 226, 253
McClintock, 2nd Lt. Richard . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12, 16, 78, 115, 163, 263, 267
McDaniels, Walter . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 177, 263, 267
McGinn, Cpl. Robert . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14, 267
McGriff, Laylen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 91, 142, 144, 253, 267
McGuire, Sgt. Randal . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 137, 140, 261, 267
Metz Highway . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 200
Micherdzinski, Sgt. Daniel . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16, 77, 78, 164, 233, 240, 268
Miller, Joseph . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 182, 183, 253
Mistral . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34
Mitchell, Frank . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 239, 254
MLR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45, 47, 49, 50, 52, 54, 61-63, 65, 67, 74, 157-159, 161, 162, 167, 169-171, 219, 228-230, 249, 272,
275
Moder River . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58, 70, 76, 89, 104
Moder Valley . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71, 119, 271
Moore, “Doc”. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
81, 85, 87, 91, 109, 110, 115
Moore, Merrill . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 204, 231, 263, 268
Morgan, Col Albert . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84, 237, 269
Main Supply Route (MSR) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71, 232
Mulhausen, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119, 121, 123, 125
Mussler, S/Sgt. Jack . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 164, 220, 231, 268
Nauborn, Germany . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 233, 236, 237, 246
Nelker, S/Sgt. Wesley . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16, 78, 147, 268
New Years Eve 1944 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54
Newberry, Andrew P. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 254
Newhousen, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52, 55
Nisnke, William . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 191
O’Banion, Sgt. Herbert . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
163, 171, 201, 252
279
INDEX
Oberhoffen, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55, 56
Obermuhlthal, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 125, 126, 130-133, 137, 138, 146, 151, 154, 155, 157
Oeting, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 167, 169, 170, 175-179, 181, 182, 213, 249, 260
Operation Nordwind . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3, 28, 61, 63, 65, 66, 97, 103, 114, 115, 123, 134
OPLR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 166, 169-173, 275
Palacio, 1st Sgt. Albert . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7, 24, 25, 49, 96, 113, 133, 268
Patch, Lt. Gen. Alexander . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9, 46, 61
Patterson, S/Sgt. Lloyd . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ii, 9, 91, 142, 163, 164, 166, 171, 176, 178, 218, 228, 239, 241, 254, 255, 268
Patton, General George . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61, 62
Peterson, Arthur . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12, 115, 263, 268
Petite Rosselle, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 217, 218, 220, 221, 223, 225, 229
Philippi, Generalmajor Alfred (German) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 272
Pierotti, David . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 86, 135, 144, 145, 268
Piper, William (Jimmy) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ii, 9, 105, 136, 150, 151, 241, 254, 268
Powers, S/Sgt Wilburn . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7, 8, 10, 12, 16, 17, 110, 111, 113, 115, 263, 268
Providence, RI . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18-20, 49, 244
Pupinski, S/Sgt. Chester . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47, 56, 57, 122, 138, 159, 206, 233, 239, 255, 268
Ramagos, Lloyd . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 212, 255, 268
Renk, Theophil . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12, 155, 156, 263, 268
Rhone River, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34
Robbins, Paul . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12, 156, 263, 268
Rosbruck, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 160-163, 166, 167, 185, 250, 251, 253
Rue Nationale . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 200-204
Saarbrucken, Germany . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 49, 61, 175, 208, 234
Saareguemines, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57, 63, 67, 71
Saverne, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63, 65, 70, 76, 126, 272
Sbrocco, Mario . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13, 177, 196, 198, 220, 255, 268
Schlossberg Castle, Forbach, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 181
Schmitz, S/Sgt. William . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 163, 164, 182, 191, 205, 268
Schollander, 2nd Lt. Donald . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12, 16, 76, 77, 79, 107, 128, 129, 131, 133, 156, 159, 263, 268
Schreiber, Col. Franz (German) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 98
Seltz, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 49
Seventh Army . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46, 47, 49, 61-63, 65-67, 71, 231
Sheeley, George . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20, 27, 82, 92, 93, 142, 146-148, 155, 231, 236, 255, 268
Shelander, S/Sgt. Arnold “Red” . . . . . . . 4, 16, 77, 80, 104, 129, 131-133, 139, 142, 143, 145, 146, 151, 155, 164, 187, 192, 233, 256,
268
Shooter, Robert . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12, 20, 104, 105, 115, 263, 268
Siegfried Line . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 49, 52, 55, 227-231, 243
Skalitzky, S/Sgt Edward . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77, 78, 151, 163, 164, 183, 190, 205, 236, 241, 256, 268
Skopp, Sgt. Gervais . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 138, 139, 268
Slover, Sgt. Arthur . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ii, 87, 90, 136, 140, 236, 241, 257, 268, 274
Smith, Ellis “Kentucky” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 147, 148, 155, 248, 268
Schutzstaffel (SS) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21, 22, 51, 52, 66, 97-99, 103, 104, 106, 109, 112, 113, 121, 141, 143, 162, 186, 227, 271
SS America . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21, 22
St. Goar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232
St. Goarshausen, Germany . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232, 254, 255
Stars and Stripes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3, 202
Steiner, T/Sgt. John . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16, 79, 163-166, 170, 171, 184, 189, 192, 198, 200, 201, 213, 216, 220, 221, 238, 257, 268
Stonehouse, Gerald . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 110, 111, 115, 263, 268
Strass-Bessenbach, Germany . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 233
Sykes, “Doc” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 191, 208
Task Force Herren . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46, 47, 49, 58, 85, 144, 158, 167, 175
Third Army . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47, 61-63, 66, 231, 245
Toups, Irvin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 201, 207, 218, 231, 257
Tremonte, Veto . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 258, 269
Tsukimura, Eddie . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ii, 7, 28, 32, 36, 44, 50, 53, 75, 89-91, 93, 111, 115, 116, 146, 149, 150, 155, 258, 269
Uczynski, S/Sgt. Leon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16, 86, 136, 150, 269
USS West Point . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21, 22, 24, 26, 27, 29, 37, 157, 205, 240
Valenzuela, Steven . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12, 115, 263, 269
Volksberg, Germany . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58, 71, 85, 95
Wacht Am Rhein . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62
280
INDEX
Wagger, 2nd Lt. Harold . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7, 16, 55, 73, 79, 143, 159, 164, 177, 185, 186, 188, 190, 259, 269
Wagoner, John . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 182, 183, 213, 263, 269
Waite, M/Sgt. Neal . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12, 13, 19, 142, 143, 145, 146, 149, 156, 243, 263, 269
Wakefield, James . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 259, 269
Welte, T/5 John . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81, 138, 159, 172, 212, 213, 241, 259, 269
Westcott, S/Sgt. Lester . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16, 86, 87, 94, 105, 259, 269
Wetzlar, Germany . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 236, 239
Wilson, Eugene . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 115, 256, 269
Wilson, 1st Sgt. Vernon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
96, 164, 213, 269
Wimmenau, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85, 95, 101
Wingen-sur-Moder, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58, 63, 69, 70, 74, 84, 88, 98, 99, 102, 115-119, 166, 227, 245, 246, 259, 261, 271, 274,
Wiseman, Arville . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 260, 269
Wood, Sgt. Robert . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ii, 8, 10, 11, 15-17, 34, 43, 47, 78, 98, 101, 113, 135, 163, 164, 167, 186, 193, 205, 225, 241, 246248, 255-258, 260, 261, 269
Yannias, Steve . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 142, 146, 260, 269
Yasutake, Hidemaru “Johnnie” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 111, 261, 269
Zinswiller, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 125, 126
Zittersheim, France . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58, 69, 71, 72, 81, 84, 86, 89, 96, 114, 121
Zoepf, Oberleutnant Wolf T. Zoepf (German) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ii, 99, 112, 270, 271, 274
Zuloski, Cpl. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 231
281
INDEX
282
BIBLIOGRAPHY
BIBLIOGRAPHY
"Narrative Reports, 276th Infantry Regiment", 31 January, 29 February, 31 March,
and 30 April 1945.
"The Trailblazers", The story of the 70th Infantry Division, by Edmund C. Arnold
and Chester F. Garstki, 1989.
"L'Operation Nordwind et Wingen-Sur-Moder", by Colonel Wallace Robert Cheves,
1978.
"An Able Story", by Joel E. Friedman, Germany, 1945.
"Operation Nordwind", by Francis Rittgen, France, 1984.
"The Other Battle Of The Bulge - Operation Nordwind" by Charles Whiting, Great
Britain, 1986.
“Ordeal in the Vosges” by Capt. Donald C Pence and Cpl. Eugene J Petersen, 1981.
283
BIBLIOGRAPHY

company a, 276th infantry in world war ii

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