Bob Van Houten's Experience

Bob Van Houten's Experience

Before the breakthrough

Several days before the breakthrough, I was sitting in a very large bunker built by the 2nd infantry Division. The bunkers were about chest high with the one that I was in about 20x20 feet. It had a log roof and dirt over the logs to protect from high bursts and I could just look out over the edge of it. I realize after looking at soma old maps that I must have been in Germany because "A" Battery CP was in Auw, Germany. The concrete bunker we slept in must have been on the Siegfried Line because we slept in a concrete bunker and then we moved out to a dirt bunker during the day to do our observation work.

We were only there a couple of days when the 2nd Infantry Division moved out and the 106th Infantry Division moved in. It was evident they were pretty green. I can't remember whether they were there or the 2nd Division was still there, but I know at night there was a lot of activity down the hill from us. When I say "down the hill" it was so steep that we could stand in the doorway of the bunker with the Germans looking and firing at us but the only thing they could hit was the steel beam above us. The Germans were in a concrete bunker below us and at night, several days before the Bulge, I could see all sorts of truck lights, it seemed like hundreds of them. We could also hear mess kits rattling, fellows talking and movement of various vehicles. I reported this back to our CP, who I assume passed it on to the 8th Corps.

A couple of days later, I was told Corps said we were just hearing a P.A. system out there. I said, "P.A., hell, I'm sitting here looking at them." This really made me mad because one of the things they always said about F.O.S. and anyone else on the front lines was "pass any information back so G-2 can verify it." In this case they apparently didn't really pay much attention to it.

December 15, 1944

I'd been out there on that OP for quite a while, in fact ever since we hit France about July. My first post was out in the middle of an open field. Next we moved to Brest and the next several months I was standing guard 2 hours on, 4 hours off. This became pretty tiresome, so on December 15th, I decided that instead of my men taking a break, I would go back to the CP for a full night's rest. A fellow from the flash section was sent out to take my place for the night, to return when I came back. Around 5 o'clock on the morning of the 16th, the fellows came upstairs and said, "You better get out of here because the Germans are shelling us."

Having been up front for so long, I could recognize the shells and since they didn't seem very close, I said, "Aw, forget it, I'm going back to sleep". Which I did until about 7 o'clock. I woke up, walked downstairs and the fellows said, "You're OP telephone lines are all out." We had two lines, one alternate and one direct. "Well, you'd better take me back." They did, but in doing so I forgot the mail, which included a Christmas package from my mother; a part of a fruitcake and a can of peaches. I wasn't too concerned for I thought, "I'll be back."

When I got to the CP

I sent my second in command, Buck Buchanan, back, keeping the Flash fellow with me. I looked down the hill and I got all excited, because the Germans had severals rockets on truck chassis, firing like mad. They were shooting those things off left and right, really blasting away at us. By them, the wire section had one line fixed, so I said, "Let's get things fixed up so we could talk, because I want to send you some information."

I don't think it was 15 or 20 minutes before they said, "We're getting out of here. We are surrounded on three sides and we think we have one way out and we're going to leave."

I said, "What do you want us to do?"

They said, "We don't know." Since we were with the 106th Infantry Division, I said, "Well, I guess there's safety in a Division", feeling sure we were safer with a division rather than a battalion. I said, "Goodby, see you in the good old USA." Little did I realize how true that might be.

The fellow that was with me and I walked back to see if we could find somewhere we could be of some use. After all, we couldn't just sit around there. The first fellow we saw was a chaplain, and I never will forget him. I told him our plight and that we were trying to hitch a ride. He said, "What kind of a gun do you have?" I said, "A carbine. Sorry fellows". I want somebody with a rifle." I thought, "You so and so."

The next fellow I saw was a Captain in the artillery. He still wore his bars, tie and everything else a well dressed officer wore. So I told him our plight and he said, "Well, what do you want to get into?" I said, "We want to get in artillery. Hell, we're trained in artillery. Who wants to get in a hand-to-hand fighting business?"

I sure didn't want anything to do with that. The fellow who was with me agreed. The captain said, "I'm going into the CP to meet with the Colonel and I'll come out and talk to you." I don't think he was gone 30 seconds when he came back out and said, "The Colonel wants to talk to you." So we went into the bunker and here they had this great big sandbox, probably about 8 foot long and 4 foot wide, or maybe 8x8.

It had the front lines on with various vehicles, along with the hills of the terrain. The Colonel said, "I understand you've been here a long while." I said, "Yes, Sir." So he said, "Show me on this board where we are." So I did and he said, "Yep, that's right. I understand you want to work with us." I said, "Yes, if we can do something worthwhile, why not? I'm not used to just sitting around doing nothing." So he said, "Would you do some FO work for us?" I said, "Well, that's more or less what I was trained for, observation or forward observation work." He said, "Okay, I'll have a driver take you out."

So the driver and I jumped in his jeep and he took me out to this field where there was just about one wall left of a concrete bunker. I couls stand behind it and observe all across the field. You know, I didn't even need any glasses, for as I looked out, I never my life saw so many cotton-picking Germans walking across the field. There must have been 10.000 of them. I'm really not trying to exaggerate, because they were all over; left, right and as far as the eye could see. They were probably about a mile away, but it was flat, so I could see that far. I got on the radio and said, "Colonel, I don't think you've got enough ammunition to shoot everything coming across that field." All he said was, "Get the hell out of there."

The driver took me back and all I can remember from there on is we'd hop in trucks and move from one place to another, almost in circles. I never saw an officer or enlisted man fire a gun. Finally, we ended up one night in a house next door to the house where our old CP had been. Realizing this, I ran inside and found my can of peaches and fruit cake. The fellow with me and I ate them, not realizing it would be the last solid food for probably four and half months.

December 19, 1944

It was December 16th when we broke up, but on December 19th we were still wandering around. We ended up in a valley and I woke up in the back of a 6 by 6 truck which was so packed with supplies that we could just barely crawl in the top. It was just starting to get daylight and I looked out and they had their 105 guns set up with the powder bags sitting out beside them. We were probably not more than 75 to 100 feet away from them, when all of a sudden, the Jerrys started lobbing in a few mortars, hitting the powder bags. Well, you never saw so many fellows pile out of a truck so fast in your life.

We ran up the hill with the mortars following us all the way. I could never understand how they could see us unless there was somebody up on the hill looking. We ended up on the opposite hill from the mortars, just sitting there, wondering what to do. I finally looked over to the right of me and there was a G.I. walking along a road on the hill about a quarter of a mile away with no one bothering him. I said to the fellow with me, "We ought to go over there". But just when we were going to walk over there, I heard somebody yell across the valley, "Throw down your guns." I looked down over there and saw a white flag waving and I thought, "Gee ! Have the Germans given up?" I just couldn't visualize the Americans given up, especially a whole regiment. I think it was the 423rd Regiment of the 106th Division.

The march

Although I've never been able to verify that. They convinced us that it was us that were giving up so I took the old carbine I had and smashed it against a tree, dumping the ammunition out on the ground and walked out through the valley. Even then we didn't see many Germans, only an occasional one on the side of the hill, sort of guiding us down. But I did see, as we were walking down, that there was a fire tower and that was apparently where they had their OP so they could see us and everything we were doing.

They marched us for three days. During that time, if the guards wanted anything we had, overcoats, shoes, anything, they just took it. If we tried to resist them, they could hit us with their gun butts. So while we were up on one of the mountains looking over a valley, we all ditched our overcoats and boots, all at the same time, throwing them all over the valley so they couldn't have them.

All we had left were our field jackets. So that didn't help our constitution any when we were marching.

On the march were a lot of fellows that had been wounded. I know one particular guy who, I think, had his leg shot off. Four other men had him in a blanket and were lugging him along, with the blood dripping out. I don't know whatever happened to him.

Going up and down those hills was so miserable; the nights were wet, rainy and snowy and we'd pass German tanks and all kinds of equipment. Those German tanks were so quiet that we didn't even know they were coming until they were protically on top of us. No wonder they could over run American positions. Our tanks could be heard for practically ten miles.

March again

Finally, we were marched into a town that originally had one of our Ops in it. We ended up in the railway station. It had start to rain and along with the cold, it was a thoroughly miserable night. The railway station was glass-roofed, at least partly, and I thought, "Oh, boy, at least we were going to get in out of the rain."

But, shoot, we wern't there ten minutes when they said, "Everybody out." So they marched us all out. At this time, I judge there were probably 500 to 1000 of us, whom they put into a courtyard. But when we walked into the courtyard, that was all fenced in by a 12 foot high fence, we saw they had four machine guns on a wall. They litterally pushed us behind it and I thought, "Oh, oh, this is it. They aren't taking any prisoners." Well fortunately, the officer announced that they weren't going to use any mahine guns unless somebody tried to escape during the night.

I'll tell you, no one even moved a foot to stretch. We were squatted down in the rain with only a raincoat to throw over our heads. We huddled together in twos and threes, bunched under the raincoats. Believe it or not, we even slept to some extent, squatting. The next day they started to march us again. Because we hadn't had any food the whole time, some of us were getting mighty hungry. We kept asking them about it and all they would say was, "At the next town." We must have marched for three days up and down through the mountains. It got colder and more miserable and snowed and the only thing we had for our stomachs was snow, never any food. We never got any food on the whole march.

Finally...

Finally, we came to a town (Probably Prüm) where they piled us into boxcars and locked them. German boxcars are called 40 and 8, since they hold forty men or eight horses, but we must have had 120 men in each, because they really jammed us in, to the point where we could hardly move……………..

…………Finally, we ended up in Bad Orb, Stalag 9-B, which is in Germany, a little valley town.

Cpl Robert J. VAN HOUTEN

16th Field Artillery

Observation Battalion

Campaigns

Normandy, France

Battle of the Bulge,

Belgium