| I was Wounded during the Bulge |
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| Our Company "A" on December 18, 1944, was deposited in a very dark, cold and wooded area for the night in the vicinity of Echternach, Luxembourg. We were told to dig in and stay quiet and alert because there was heavy enemy activity in the rear. The night was so dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. The ground was made up of heavy wet clay and our entrenching shovel couldn't dig into it, so we had to sleep on top of the ground and take our turns at guard duty and listening posts. It was so cold that the rear echelon brought up some overcoats (2 for every 3 soldiers). We placed one overcoat on the ground and 3 of us lay on it and covered ourselves with the 2nd overcoat. The only one who was warm was the middle guy so we changed place every 20 minutes or so. |
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| The next morning was dark, cold and dreary and we were told that we had to attack through the woods and up a hill to knock out some rocket emplacements. The 1st Platoon was to make the frontal assault and the 2nd Platoon the right flanking movement. We moved out after eating some K-rations for breakfast and we were immediately shelled mercilessly for what seemed like an eternity. When a lull in the shelling occurred (which only meant the enemy was reloading) we started up the hill again, only to be shelled even more mercilessly. Enemy shells hit the trees above us, burst and rained shrapnel from above which was devastating. The casualties were unbelievable and everyone figured he was next. My machine gunner Pfc Willie Wilson was shot in the stomach by a sniper and killed just 10 feet in front of me as we were moving up. I then became the sniper's next favorite target but the closest he got was an inch or two above my rear end. |
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| Another lull in the shelling and another move up, only caused the shelling to increase.Looking desperately for some cover I jumped into a large tank trap only to find it full of enemy soldiers and other Company "A" men trying to protect themselves from the shelling. When the shelling stopped for a moment or two both the enemy soldiers and ourselves scrambled out of the tank trap and went our respective ways into the woods with not a shot fired at each other. The woods were at this point so thick that if you went a few feet you couldn't see each other…. |
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| What was left of our platoon started forward and up again only to receive more shelling. It seemed like an eternity in hell with no way out. The screams of the wounded, the noise, the smoke, the awful weather and the feeling of helplessness only confirmed that war is hell and beyond anyone's imagination. At this time I was hit in the left arm by a piece but it didn't do too much damage so I bandaged it and ignored it. |
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| All of us were wondering why our artillery didn't respond to the enemy's attack and try to slow them down. Someone said there was a strike back in the U.S. and there was a shortage of artillery shells and that our guns only had three shells apiece. We didn't even hear any of the three shells per gun respond and it left us with a very helpless and abandoned feeling. |
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| Somehow or other after many hours of this unbelievable and awful battle three other men from Company "A" and myself reached the top of the hill. Guess what? No enemy rocket launchers. At this point I had one of my squad's machine guns but no ammunition as the ammo bearers were either killed or wounded. The four of us congratulated each other on reaching our objective and decided to consolidate it, when we saw a group of enemy soldiers in the valley below us running along the tree line. We all opened up with our M1 rifles but the bullets barely reached the three line and we hit no one. Then the 2nd Platoon leader arrived and ordered us off the hill even though we tried to convince him otherwise. However, he told us there were enemy tanks behind us and that we'd probably be cut off. We were convinced and immediately left our hard fought position on the top of the hill. |
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| On the way down the hill the shelling had stopped and the silence was very eerie except for the moaning and crying of the wounded. I saw Pfc Pitt, one of my machine gun squad buddies, sitting against a tree obviously seriously wounded and in a state of shock. I tried to talk to him but got no response. All of a sudden an enemy tank appeared about 25 yards away slowly making its way through the woods and headed toward us. I fired my rifle at the tank but it didn't even notice my shooting at it. I then proceeded down the hill and saw the most horrible sight imaginable - - 'almost my entire company strewn about the hill either dead or seriously wounded.' |
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| When I got to the bottom of the hill there dirt road running alongside it, which was the same roadway we jumped off from. Only this time there was absolute confusion with tanks and half-tracks knocked out and burning, wounded and dead soldiers everywhere, a few ambulances and soldiers wandering about looking for some leadership. The calls for the medics were desperate and heart rendering. |
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| I meet Pfc Santo Falco, another member of our machine gun squad, who looked very worried and perplexed. He said to me that he had to do something about the wounded and the situation. I agreed but had no idea what to do. He told me had found two ambulances and two working tanks and that we could fill the ambulances with some of the wounded and along with the tanks for protection drive them to the Aid Station which was in the town about two miles down the road. |
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| Falco also told me that there was a road block down the road before we got to the town that had to be dismantled and that there were enemy troops all around. I never understood how Falco knew so much and how capable he was under such terrible conditions. It was now late in the afternoon and getting dark and it looked like we were in a very desperate situation. Time was running out, particularly for the wounded. |
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| Between Falco and me, we were able to round up ten other men willing to try and break out of the situation with the two ambulances full of the wounded. We also convinced two tankers with their crews to join us and lead the ambulances down the roadway. Our convoy took off for the Aid Station in town as fast as we could go with the two tanks in front, each with six infantry soldiers riding on the back of each tank. Falco and I were riding on the second tank along with four others. He was on the right side and I was on the left side. |
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| After we traveled about ¼ mile down the road the enemy soldiers started to fire at us from about 100-200 yards away and from both sides of the road with small arms fire and machine gun fire as well as what appeared to be anti-tank fire. The tanks were buttoned up and we were firing our rifles as fast as we could from both sides off the back of the tanks. Our tank was hit by enemy fire and three of us on the back of our tank were wounded including Falco and myself. Falco in the knee, the other soldier in the shoulder and I in the face. The other tank and the ambulances were also being fired on but they appeared to be okay. |
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| Our plans were to dismount when we got to the road block and clear it. However, when the lead tank was about 100 yards from the road block, it didn't look very formidable and we decided to drive right through the road block. We hit it with our lead tank as fast and direct as possible and the tank broke right through it. Hooray! The rest of us followed safely and we arrived at the Aid Station, which was later captured (so I was told). Confusion in this area reigned supreme, with all types of military vehicles moving in all directions in the dark, and wounded soldiers everywhere. No one would listen to our pleas that our Company "A" lay wounded and dead two miles down the road. I suppose they already knew about it, but didn't have the resources to do anything. |
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| The medics sewed up my jaw and wrapped my head in a large white bandage. I met Pfc Sam Stahlman my closest buddy in the machine gun squad at the Aid Station and we had a joyous reunion. Sam had been wounded in the leg and was hopping around trying to find out what was going on. Eventually, we went that night by ambulance to a field hospital in Thionville (I believe).Sam and I no sooner lay down on a couple of stretchers in what appeared to be the gym on the main floor of a school building right by the rear exit door, when someone ran down the middle of the gym screaming that the Germans were coming through the front door. |
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| Sam and I remembering that the Germans were taking no prisoners at this time, got up from our stretchers and limped out the back door and pulled ourselves into the rear of a moving 2-½ ton truck full of medical personnel escaping capture. I passed out in the truck and the next time I woke up I was laying on my back in a large white hospital ward with the sun shining through the windows and a beautiful nurse standing over me. I thought I was in Heaven! I have never seen or heard of Pfc Santo Falco since that date. Thank you, Santo Falco, wherever you are, you are one brave soldier. |
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| Source: Memorable Bulge incidents, Living Legends = 1994 |
