|
My WWII Story with 38th A.I.B.
|
| Chronologically Speaking |
| |
| I joined the 7th Armored Division on August 17, 1944 and I was promoted to T/5, Technician Fifth Grade, a Corporal, on November 17, 1944. |
| |
| I recall being in the little town of Geilenkirchen, Germany, just across the border from Belgium, standing my guard duty at 2 A.M. in the morning of December 16th when I noticed big flashes of gunfire and flares far to the Southeast and wondered what kind a battle was going on there. |
| |
| Soon I found out. At 6 A.M. the 7th Armored Division was ordered to head south toward St. Vith, Belgium. And so it was on December 17, 1944, that I arrived in the "Battle of the Bulge", which was in Winston Churchill's words: "Undoubtedly the greatest American battle of the war, and will, I believe, be regarded as an ever famous American victory". |
| |
| As the 38th moved through St. Vith to engage the enemy I received a message on the radio that our "D" Company, bringing up the rear, was cut off from our column by enemy forces. The Headquarters Company continued on to set up a command post in a house about one mile East of the town. "D" Company, having fought its way through the German pocket, joined "A", "B" and "C" Companies on a ridge in front of the forward command post about 300 yards. As the units moved into battle positions the order from General Headquarters was to hold the line for three days. |
| |
| It was on the fifth day at the forward Command Post at about 3 P.M. when the Colonel Fuller decided to go back to Division Headquarters to get permission to pull back our troops from the area on the ridge because of the intense shelling. By 7 P.M. he had not returned. |
| |
| Major Mc Daniel, the S-3 officer for the Battalion and second in command, thinking that perhaps the Colonel had been injured or captured, decided to go to Headquarters himself. That left me alone in the forward Command Post with my radio, coordinating artillery fire on enemy positions. About 8 P.M. all hell broke loose! The Germans began firing mortars, 90mm shells, bazookas, screaming meemies (a shrill whistling shell) and flares into our positions on the ridge. |
| |
| As I looked out a window the flares lit up the valley below and I could see thousands of men, both ours and enemy, running toward the C.P. and the town of St. Vith. It was impossible to determine who was enemy or friend. Machine gun and rifle fire, mortars and cannon shells were coming from all directions and the screaming meemies added to the shouts and screaming of the men. It was frightening pandemonium and confusion! |
| |
| About this time a Sergeant from "C" Company stationed up the road about 50 yards came running past the C.P. to inform me that enemy paratroopers had landed in the area and that a huge German Tiger tank was headed my way, blasting everything in its way. Alone in the blackness of the night and no transportation left at the C.P., I decided that if the tank fired at the house that I was in, the shell would come through the wall at about four feet high, and that the safest place for me would be flat on the floor and up against a wall. |
| |
| In this prone position on the floor I received a call from Captain Anstey of "A" Company in the valley, telling me that the enemy tanks were operating behind our lines. I told him that there was one coming straight for the C.P. I had my own problems. |
| |
| A few minutes later as I lay here there waiting for a 90mm shell to come through the wall, I heard someone coming into the house from the front door. Thinking it to be Jimmy Cox, the jeep driver, returning to take me and my radio back to Headquarters, in St. Vith, I called out "Jimmy is that you? |
| |
| There was no answer but the footsteps came closer. Twice more did I call, but no answer was forthcoming. Realizing that this was enemy trying to locate me by the crackle of the radio, I waited. So when I felt that they were close enough, I jumped up, pushing table and radio crashing in their direction. It must have been a shock to them because they did not shoot until I jumped out a rear window. They missed! But, alas! My drop of about 14 feet down was cushioned by a four foot deep pile of manure, pilled there for Spring planting season. |
| |
| Remembering that a railroad track ran through the valley behind the C.P., I located it and followed it back into St. Vith hoping to find the Headquarters vehicles and my group. I soon learned that they had left in a hurry for destinations West. So now it was every man for himself! |
| |
| At first I tried to hide in a large haystack in a barn but soon heard gunfire approaching. So I began a trek to the west, keeping out of sight by walking through wooded areas or hiding in a house. On the second day of this hike I was in a battle scarred house looking for something to eat. All I could find was one raw potato, but this was Justas good as steak under these conditions. This was the extent of rations for three days. |
| |
| Continuing on, it was Christmas Eve about 4 P.M. that I located the Headquarters Company which had stopped to gas up and assess the situation. The men were all gathered in a beer hall or bar. Tired, weak and hungry, I got up on the bar and fell into a sound sleep. Not for long though, because about an hour later the men awakened me to say that we were moving on because the German tanks were approaching. We left town toward the West just as they entered from East firing their 90mm gun at us. |
| |
| At least we reached a safe area behind the front lines where we stopped in a little town in Belgium to reorganize and be re-equipped since the Division had lost three quarters of its men and equipment, tanks, trucks, etc. |
| |
| Here I found an unoccupied house which had a bath-tub and running hot water. What a Christmas Day present! The only bath since leaving Tidworth Barracks back in England in July. All of my buddies were glad that I watched my smelly clothes too. This episode in my story is recorded in one of the history books written on the Battle of the Bulge titled, "HITLER' LAST GAMBLE" by Trevor Dupuy. (page 156) |
| |
| It was also on Christmas Day, a clear beautiful day that I was up on a hill in my jeep when I heard the thunderous roar of a lot of planes. As I looked to the Northwest I saw that the sky was absolutely full of planes of all descriptions and sizes. There were hundreds of B-17 bombers, hundreds of B-24 Lancaster bombers, high up. Then under them were the B-26 bombers and A-26 attack planes. The fighter planes were darting in between the bombers. |
| |
| Because of fog during the Battle of the Bulge the ground forces were denied the air support of these planes, but now they came, 2000 strong. They came in formations of 36 planes to a group and as they passed directly overhead I saw the enemy anti-aircraft shells explode into one of these formations of B-26 bombers. Six of the planes in the middle of the group were hit and then began to fall towards the earth on fire. Among the falling debris small parachutes began to open as the airmen bailed out of the crippled planes. I also watched as C-47 cargo planes came in a treetop level to drop supplies to the encircled men at Bastogne. |
| |
| It was early in January 1945 that I received a letter from my mother in Tacoma, when she told me that my brother, Maurice, a B-26 pilot was missing while on a bombing run over Bitburg, Germany. Then in February I received a letter from Maurice, informing me that he was in a hospital in Paris. When Colonel Fuller heard of this, he issued me a three day pass to visit my brother. |
| |
| As we walked the streets of Paris recounting our battles experiences, I learned that Maurice had been slightly injured on his leg as he bailed out of his plane which had been hit. I also learned that Maurice was the pilot of one of the planes that I had observed being shot down. He had landed about a mile down the road from where I was on the hill. All but one of his crew survived. Maurice had been shot down four times before and was on his way home. |
| |
| As soon as we drew replacements for the men lost in the battle, (782) and were re-equipped with vehicles destroyed, we were sent into combat again. It was at this time I became the jeep driver for the Battalion Company Commander. |
| |
| The Colonel and his driver, Jim Cox, had gone down a road to check on the forward positions for our men. They were spotted by the enemy and fired upon with mortars. Jimmie was killed (January 23, 1945) but Colonel Fuller escaped and returned to the Headquarters. I was now to be driver for the Colonel as well as radio operator. |
| |
| As the enemy was pushed back, we advanced toward the Rhine River and the Remagen bridge over it. |
| |
