Battle of the Bulge, Part 2: Combat

Honoring soldiers all this week and especially those of my father's war: The second of my three posts on the Battle of the Bulge from the eyes of one who was there.

My father's journal:

The Bulge

We first found out where we were when we entered Luxembourg City. There were people on all the streets waving American flags and cheering us. We were given our barracks bags and told to dig in. Steve and I had just finished digging our hole when the Sergeant came by, told us to get up, ready to move. We were to leave all our extra clothes, blankets and barrack bags there. That was the last I ever saw of mine.

I had on my long underwear,(changed once in two months) 2 pair OD pants and shirt, field jacket, overcoat, two pairs of socks (I also carried an extra pair in my helmet)a pair of boots, and overshoes. This was to be what I wore through snow, cold and hell for the next two months.

By now we learned the Germans were counter attacking. The Battle of the Bulge had begun.

We did not know just how big the attack was. We still had not slept in some time. It was cold. Steve and I slept in a foxhole with our overcoats open and wrapped around one another trying to keep warm.

We stayed in defensive position for several days. We had been part of the greatest movement of troops in modern times. This massive mass movement of troops and equipment was one reason for the German advance to stall. They had not expected resistance so quickly.

We were on the southern edge of the bulge. The weather was overcast, snowing at times. There was up to 18 inches of snow on the ground in places. Most of the time we fought without benefit of artillery. Our planes could not fly due to the bad weather. Our tanks could not stand up to the German Tiger Tank.

We were advised Germans dressed in American uniforms had infiltrated our lines and were capturing road crossings. 

It was a time when you could trust no one.

My Worst Days

Christmas Eve 1944 We went into an attack on Hollar. On the approach to the town we came under mortar fire. They were the so called “screaming meemies” of WWI fame. The last I remember was seeing a large flash. I was knocked out by the concussion. When I came to I was all alone.

Christmas Day 1944  I went to Mass in a Catholic church that was still standing. During the mass shells came into the town. The priest kept right on saying mass and we all felt God would protect us.

A hot meal was sent up to by our kitchen. While we were being served our dinner we came under shell fire. I had my dinner on a plate when I dove into a ditch. I spilled my food into the snow but ate it anyway. That night we slept in a barn.

The Day After Christmas My daughter Barbara’s birthday. We were awakened about 2:00 a.m. Ate a K-ration breakfast. I sat on a dead hog. I was in dread of this day. I did not want to be killed on my daughter’s birthday. After breakfast I was sent out to scout ahead.

It was around 3:00 a.m. and very dark. I went down the road, crossed the brook away from the bridge, and went into the woods. I had gone about a hundred feet when I heard someone blowing their nose. About thirty feet in front of me were two Germans in a foxhole. I could see them silhouetted against the sky.

I turned and made it back over the bank where I told Lieutenant Jacks what I had seen. He moved the platoon to the bank and said he would fire his pistol at daybreak. We would then go into the woods using marching fire.

I told my buddy Steve (I Have forgotten his last name if I ever knew) where the Germans were I had seen. I said I would go toward them. He said he would come with me. He also said he had a funny feeling about this attack. When Lieutenant fired we started into the woods. Bullets were flying everywhere. We had walked into a full company of Germans well dug in.

Steve and I were nearing the foxhole when I sensed Steve had stopped shooting. He was about three feet from me. I glanced sideways at him just a bullet hit him in the forehead. I remember seeing his helmet fly off. He was in the process of loading a clip into his rifle.

The attack had stopped about as soon as it had started. I was very shook up. I was very upset over Steve’s death. I never got over it. We were quite close. Slept together in holes. He was my squad leader. I never made any more friends while in combat. The hurt is too great when you see someone you like killed in front of your eyes.

From Hollar we marched about twelve hours in snow up to our knees. We came to a city. There we went into houses and got bed sheets that we covered ourselves with. I believe they saved my life on more than one occasion.

We got to a one-street town. I was in the rear passing an open doorway when I heard someone call, “Halt!” We ran across the street behind a small building. Then we heard a hissing. They had thrown a grenade. The concussion knocked me against the building.

We were in full view but they never saw us. There was snow on the ground and we were still covered with our white sheets.

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My father, like so many wounded of his generation, never spoke much about his experiences, nor did he receive help for his emotional trauma. However, today, there are many resources and organizations available, all of which depend on others for support. The following link lists many organizations that support those who are deployed, and those who have been wounded.

http://soldiersangels.org/support-groups.html  

If anyone has a loved one in the military, I recommend this book of devotions:

Fighting Fear: Winning the War at Home When Your Soldier Leaves For Battle

Thank you for listening to this soldier’s story. Last up: Crossing the Sauer and Speechless

Father, keep us mindful that the beauty we enjoy, the bounty we feast on, the peace we walk in, and the freedom we take for granted, are gifts. Often gifts from another’s sacrifice. 

We thank you, and them.

A Salute to Soldiers: The Battle of the Bulge Through the Eyes of One Who Was There

June 1944. A twenty-five- year- old man from Vermont kissed his wife and babies goodbye and went off to war.

 His graduation from basic training “consisted mainly of a parade and a talk by a general. I never forgot the feeling I had when he said many of us would be dead before Christmas. It did not seem possible. 

However we were Infantry Replacements and that meant we were going right into the fighting. He was one hundred per cent right. Many of the fellows I trained with were dead before the New Year.”

  

In honor of my father and the soldiers of his generation who fought on various shores during WWII, and soldiers of freedom all, this week I am departing from usual blog in order to post several  excerpts from Dad’s personal record, The Battle of the Bulge: As Seen Through the eyes of One G.I. Who Was There.

Some of his words are rough. He was a rough man. He hadn’t even made it through basic training before he got into a fight with a leader from another squad who had ripped one of his men’s bed apart before inspection.

  “Had to clean the latrine every night til lights out. I also lost my Assistant Squad Leader rating . . . On my record is the notation, Not recommended for the Good Conduct Medal. I never did get it.”

He did, however, receive the Bronze Star and the coveted Combat Infantry Badge for his dangerous service as rifleman/scout. Maybe he needed that feisty spirit in the trenches more than good conduct after all.

In his words:

I fought in the Battle of the Bulge as a private with Co. E. 2^nd Battalion, 11^th Infantry, Fifth Division from December 1944 to February 1945. During much of this time, I acted as Platoon and Company Scout. Most of our fighting was done at nite. Several times I have been unseen within a few feet of the Enemy. On one occasion I could see his breath coming around the corner of the building I was behind. He was within one foot of me. I fully believe that only the Grace of God and some of the skills I learned hunting deer in Vermont brought me through.”

From Camp Dix in NJ

We were loaded onto ships. There were no other ships around when we sailed. However, the next morning . . . we were in a large convoy. At times the D.E.s would come tearing through the convoy. I still hear them. Ruuuup, Ruuuup. We were on a Victory ship holding about 5000 men . . .stacked in holds six to eight high in hammocks.

Saar River Basin, December 1944

We marched for eight to ten hours going down into the Basin. We were under shell fire for a goodly part of the time. I remember lying in a ditch with shells bursting around me wondering what the h---I was doing.

We relieved a platoon that had just lost their lieutenant. He had been standing in the doorway when a mortar shell hit and killed him. He was the first dead soldier I had seen.

In the morning everyone seemed to be doing their morning duties in the corners of the cellar. As we were eating breakfast there, also having just arrived from the States I did not think much of that and went up the stairs outside and backed up to a wall in the alcove. . . . . I had just bent over when there was a shot. The bullet hit exactly where my head had just been. It showered me with mortar and pieces of brick. I made one jump and was back down the stairs. That was about as close as I ever came to being killed.

I was now a combat veteran.

We could not go outside the buildings as the Germans had the areas under fire. A lot of houses were built so close together you could blow a hole in the wall and enter the next house. We were using twenty pound T.N.T charges on a stick. These charges had a tab that you would pull. You then had twenty seconds to run back about three houses and wait for it to go off.

Once I went back for more charges. I had to cross a driveway under fire. I had a charge in each hand. I ran across the drive and caught a tab on the doorway. I had no idea whether it pulled hard enough to go off. As the house was full of men I had no choice but to get rid of it. I started back across the yard. I was sure I would either be killed by the Germans or the charge would blow up.

I dropped it about halfway and ran like hell. I recall praying the prayer that kept me, “Thy will be done.” The charge did not go off and I guess the Germans were bad shots or surprised to see me running at them.

We had been in Fraulautern for about 4-5days when we got word we were to be relieved. We could not imagine why. We were making good progress.

We marched for 10 hours, under shell fire a good part of the time. It was mid-morning when we reached the trucks. Soon there were trucks everywhere. The entire army was moving. Tanks. Guns. Men. 

We did not know where we were going or why.

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Next up (Monday) The Battle of the Bulge    

As we enter this important week for those of us in the United States, may we pray for our leaders and remember, Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord--Psalm 33:12