Boxcarsand Burps

Easy Does It

Craig DavisonBill Law

Major Bill Garden

Major Bill Law Captain Craig Davison

Baccarat, France, November 1944Raon l’Etape, France, November 1944

St. Blaise, France, November 1944Sparsbach, France, December 1944Rothbach, France, December 1944

Mouterhouse, France, December 1944Guising, France, December 1944Rimling, France, January 1945

Hottwiller, France, January 1945Holbach, France, March 1945Bitche, France, March 1945

Waldhausen, France, March 1945Pirmasens, Germany, March 1945Neustadt, Germany, March 1945

Ludwigshaven, Germany, March 1945Mannheim, Germany, March 1945

Weisloch, Germany, April 1945Hillbach, Germany, April 1945

Heilbronn, Germany, April 1945Bad Constantt, Germany, April 1945

Ulm, Germany, May 1945Goppingen, Germany, May 1945Stuttgart, Germany, August 1945

Ditzingen, Germany, October 1945

© Craig Davison, 2004All rights reserved.

This story of Company E covers its day-by-dayfight in France and Germany to the end of WWIIand victory. It describes the how, where, andwhen of the history. This prologue tells both thelight and dark sides of the combat experience.

Combat impacts deeply on the life of a youngcivilian-turned-soldier. It is an experience differ-ent from any he will ever face . . . and one he willforever remember.

Combat transforms the relationships betweensoldiers. Despite race, religion, social, or econom-ic differences, everyone becomes his brother’skeeper. They protect, share, help, and watch overone another. Comrades in trouble are rescued,often at great personal risk.

Combat stimulates the body to high energyand endurance levels which are impossible incivilian life. The mind also responds and attitudesbecome more confident, trusting, resolute, andcooperative. Unit survival depends on the powerof teamwork and the need for harmoniousinteraction.

Combat leadership includes a quality thatsaves lives. It is seldom commented on, but everyrank in the infantry knows it exists. The infantryleader’s motto is “Follow me.” In battle, thismeans that leaders do not send their men wherethey themselves would not go, and do not askthem to do what they would not. In combat, outof necessity, men who have never been formallytrained to do so have taken over leadership of aunit either voluntarily or by designation, but allknow the importance of leadership by example.

Combat means facing death every day. Dealingwith death each day translates into contendingwith fear every day. That’s the indescribable darkside of combat. The body reacts with a clammysweat.

Combat is keeping in visual contact with theenemy so he doesn’t surprise you, and seekingfavorable positions from which to attack him.

Combat is the constant suffering from personaldiscomforts. Most of the time, day and night, thesoldier is outside. He is exposed to weather that istoo hot, too cold, rainy, snowy, or windy.

Combat is marching incredible distances onterrain that is muddy, sandy, icy, steep, wet, or all

of these. The infantryman wades ice-cold streamsor stinking swamps up to his armpits, and has nochance of changing his clothes afterwards. Theresult is utter exhaustion with blistered, bloodyfeet, and chafed, bleeding skin.

Combat finds soldiers constantly seeking coverand digging foxholes. Even without being hit bybullets or shrapnel, it means bruises, scrapes,cuts, punctures, and sores. With only their feebleentrenching tools, helmets, or sometimes barehands, soldiers bore through rocks or frozen earthwhen digging for their lives. Combat means shar-ing a very small hole in the ground with yourbuddy, taking alternate turns sleeping and stay-ing awake.

Combat is doing without food and sleep fordays, and often having diarrhea. It is wearingclothes and boots all day and sleeping with themon all night . . . without a mattress, on the cold,hard ground. It is not having a toothbrush orsoap.

Boxcars and Burps was written in Germany fol-lowing the end of WWII. It is a 16,600-wordaccount of the nearly 180 days of combat experi-enced by the men of Company E, 397th InfantryRegiment in France and Germany. It was pre-pared by officers in the city of Ulm, Germany,while the Company performed occupationduties.

There was a serious price paid for those sixmonths in combat. Counting replacements formen lost in action, 476 men fought in Company E.Thirty-one were killed in action, 105 werewounded in action, and 39 were officially missingin action. The reward was the everlasting pride ofvictory and 87 decorations for individual gal-lantry in combat.

After the war, when discussing their experi-ences, the soldiers of Company E were amazed athow dissimilar those experiences were. Soldiersviewed the same battle from different positionson the ground and at different times of day.Except for the officers, they were, at best, vaguelyaware of the “big picture.”

It became apparent that there was an interest indrawing together an account of the Company Ecombat experience. The officers and noncoms got

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Prologue

together several times to discuss what happenedin combat. They decided to compile the signifi-cant events, and Captain Davison would writethe history. It was published in Easy Does It, thecompany newspaper.

The question of including names in the historywas discussed. Although not unanimous, it wasdecided not to include names on the basis that itwas impossible to remember exactly who wasinvolved in what action. Also, all Company Emen performed heroically, so to leave any sol-dier’s name out of the history would be unfair.

The German artillery had some very largepieces mounted on railroad carriages. They wereused to destroy large areas such as supply dumpsand airfields. Infantrymen knew that heavy long-range artillery often fell short of its target. Onecould hear these mammoth rounds in flight. Youcould not hear smaller-caliber rounds until afterthey passed because of their greater velocity; theytraveled faster than sound. The railroad gunswere fired at night and hidden during the day.The large shells weighed 400 pounds.

The sound in the night was unique and omi-nous. When the sound was perceived, it kept

coming and coming and finally lumbered over-head. The whirlwind type of rush of air was loudenough to make you feel it was almost on top ofyou. Sometimes the round wobbled through theair, producing an even more deadly sound. Thegiant rounds were descriptively nicknamed “box-cars” by American infantrymen who heard thembecause of the huge dimension of the sound.

The German infantry used a lightweight nine-millimeter (9mm) submachine gun with a largemagazine. The weapon had an extremely rapidrate of fire—10 rounds per second. This intensefirepower was used for close-in fighting. The fir-ing of this weapon made a unique, continuousripping sound similar to a long belch, or burp.Thus it was nicknamed a “burp gun.”

The most common and ominous sounds ofcombat were boxcars and burps. It was thereforedecided that the title of the Company E historyshould reflect this reality.

—Craig Davison

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Saint Blaise, France 23 November, 1944On 6 November 1944, a well-trained and well-

equipped new company stepped in to the muddyprone-shelters and foxholes of a battle-weary uniton the front line near Baccarat, France. Therewere many nervous questions from the green sol-diers who were coming in to the line, and sincerebut tired replies by the old-timers who werebeing relieved. Successful in all its lesser tests,quietly, in the night, Company E began its great-est trial—combat.

We could hear our artillery pounding at Jerryand occasionally he lobbed an artillery shell ourway. It seemed more like an artillery duel thosefirst few days, and we didn’t feel that we werereally in the fight. On the fourth day on the line,however, we were shocked and at the same timemolded into a fighting unit. Chellemi was killedthat day by a German shell. It made a direct hit onhis foxhole, and from that moment on, the men ofCompany E had something to fight for. It becameour war and our hearts were in it as we batteredGerman forces from Baccarat to Stuttgart in theawful months that followed—months remem-bered for the mountains we climbed, for blisteredmarching feet, for buddies we saw go down, forgnawing hunger, and for the grim humor stillalive in desperate men. When they were past, wehad amassed a consecutive-days-on-line scorethat ranked with the highest in the Seventh Army,broken only by a few days in Corps Reserve.

Talk of peace treaty rumors on the anniversaryof Armistice Day echoed in our ears as CompanyE engaged in its first attack, and as a reserve com-pany, we experienced our baptism of fire on 12November. It was a withering concentration ofheavy mortar shells that occurred just after ourbattalion (2nd Battalion, 397th Infantry Regi-ment) had driven the enemy from our first objec-tive. The experience thoroughly frightened us,but it taught us how terrible artillery is and sea-soned us at the same time. That baptism taught usin fifteen minutes what it takes forever to learn ingarrison.

Having something to fight for, and with ourbaptism of fire under our belts, Company Emoved out, leaving the dead and wounded forthe litter bearers. We had a tough assignment, butwe were moving now.

Our mission was to seize the high groundnorth of the key supply and communications cen-ter in the city of Raon l’Etape, on the MeurtheRiver. This meant clearing the Germans fromtheir well-prepared defenses in the Vosges Moun-tains. The Vosges were long considered impreg-nable because no defender had ever been dis-lodged from their towering heights and deepravines.

It is little wonder that the entire US VI Corpswas stopped at the foot of the Vosges. So high andsteep was the terrain that it was difficult to climb,much less fight over, and being a thick mass ofold-growth forest made attack unsure and costly.

The enemy, difficult to locate in the woods andheavy undergrowth, had well-prepared, deeplydug-in positions, with snipers in front of them toharass us and slow our attack. When he got uswhere we were most vulnerable, he would firefrom his main positions while snipers harassed usfrom our flanks and rear, frequently workingright into our midst.

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Crossing the High Vosges

A 100th Infantry Division patrol in typical High Vosges for-est, November 1944. US Army Signal Corps (Signal Corps)

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Although the 399th Infantry had been commit-ted over a week before, the dense forests andsteep hills of the High Vosges east of theMeurthe River provided the setting for the100th’s first combat as a division. As a unit, thedefenders of this formidable terrain were asgreen as the American attackers.

The 708th Volks-Grenadier Division hadbeen created in Breslau, Silesia, on 15September 1944, built around a cadre from theremnants of the 708th Infantry Division. Acoastal defense division, the 708th InfantryDivision had been assigned coastal defensemissions since its creation in April 1941, buthad been battered into remnants in the battlesin western France in the summer of 1944. It waswithdrawn for reconstitution as a Volks-Grenadier Division (VGD) in August, and wastrained in Slovakia for six weeks prior to beingcommitted in the Vosges.

The 708th Volks-Grenadier Division’s firstmission was to relieve the 21st Panzer Divisionin their strong positions overlooking theMeurthe River east of Baccarat, and north tothe approaches to the Saverne Gap. Although asignificant number of NCOs and junior officerswere veterans of the summer battles in Nor-mandy, most of the men occupying thesedefensive works during the first and secondweeks of November were from very differentbackgrounds.

Like so many men of the 100th InfantryDivision, who were “retread” antiaircraft gun-ners, Air Corps crewmen and ASTP “whizkids,” many of the NCOs of the 708th Volks-Grenadiers were reclassified Luftwaffe andNavy crewmen; most of the Landsers (infantrysoldiers), were inexperienced replacements,between the ages of 18 and 45. Nevertheless,they entered the battle at close to fullstrength—which, for a Volks-Grenadier Divi-sion, meant three regiments of two battalionseach (although the 708th was reinforced by abattalion of the 361st Volks-Grenadiers near

Raon l’Etape) The Landsers were also equippedwith the new MP44 assault rifle and one MG42machine gun per squad. Thus, not numbers,not equipment, but training and leadershipwould make the main difference between thetwo units, and it would show in this firstencounter of the two combat neophytedivisions.

The main elements of the 708th facing the100th Infantry Division in the brooding Forêtdu Petit Reclos came from Grenadier Regiment748, although elements of the 100th laterencountered elements of Grenadier Regiments760 and 951 (the latter detached from the 361stVGD). Between the pounding the two southernregiments of the 708th took from the 100th inthe fog-shrouded ridges of the High Vosges,and the beating the northern regiment of the708th (Grenadier Regiment 720) sustained atthe hands of a regiment of the 79th InfantryDivision in its drive on the Saverne Gap, the708th Volks-Grenadier Division was practicallydestroyed as a fighting entity by 17 November.The 708th’s commanding general was relievedat noon on that day.

Generalmajor Josef Paul Krieger was a 51-yearold Bavarian infantryman who had successful-ly commanded a regiment on the Eastern Front.A World War I veteran who had commandedinfantry companies and battalions in that war,like most German officers, he had been forcedout of the Army after 1919. Also like manyGerman Army officers, until 1935, when Hitlerformally repudiated the Versailles limitationson the Wehrmacht and began openly rebuildingGermany’s Armed Forces, Krieger had servedas a police officer.

After a second reconstitution, the 708thserved on the north shoulder of the ColmarPocket until February 1945, after which it wasamalgamated with the 106th Infantry Divisionin the Black Forest in the closing days of thewar. �

The 708th Volks-Grenadier Division

The company fought its way forward for threedays to positions north of the tiny village ofBertrichamps, leaving in its bloody wake suchfortress hills as Hill 409, 417 (nicknamed“Snipers’ Ridge”), and 316. (altitudes above sealevel, measured in meters on our OrdnanceSurvey maps.)

On 16 November 1944, the Company leftpositions near Bertrichamps on the last lap ofattack toward Raon l’Etape. We pushed throughheavy and accurate artillery fire, mortar barrages,and well-defended areas to seize the Campd’Vacances and Hill 538, which was one of thekey terrain bastions in the German WinterDefensive Line. We took the forward slope with-out great effort, but found the next day that Jerryintended to hold that hill at all costs. He staged acounterattack from two directions and sniped atus from vantage points around the forest. We held538 for three hellish days while other units of theDivision gained additional terrain fortressesnearby. These tactics cut off Raon l’Etape andmade it possible for the Division to seize the keytown and capture many prisoners.

We entered Raon l’Etape on 20 November andspent our first night indoors on beds since enter-ing combat. Many thick beards were shaved offthat night, for it was also our first opportunity toclean up. The next day, we marched two and ahalf kilometers to St. Blaise, where we remainedovernight and conducted patrols.

The following morning, 22 November, wepushed off at 0700 for an eight-mile marchtoward Vieux Moulin and encountered enemymortar fire en route. Outposts and road blockswere set up within the town. We were hard on theheels in pursuit of the Germans and ourRegiment was spearheading the attack in theRabodeau River Valley, liberating town aftertown.

Men who were with the Company on 23November will not soon forget that long, longday and night. That was the day we left VieuxMoulin at 0700 to take the high ground a fewmiles out of town. Here we dug in, cut logs forcover, and had just finished our positions whenwere ordered to move on. After marching tenmiles to the tiny settlement of Du Pont de Salm,via Le Most, Le Saulcy, and La Parière, we com-pleted defensive positions and road blocks in thetown. At 1700, we were again ordered back to LeSaulcy to join the Battalion. Weary troops againstarted out, eating our Thanksgiving dinner—turkey sandwiches—on the march.

Passing through Belval and traveling all night,we reached St. Blaise-la-Roche at dawn on 24November and took the town.* This back-break-ing road march totaled about 25 miles over steepgrades in a driving rain. Few of the men realizedthat the battalion had breached the deadly“Wagner Line,” so called after the Gauleiter ofAlsace, Robert Wagner, one of Hitler’s croniessince the early 1920s. The German 19th Armycommand had fully expected this belt of fortifica-tions, constructed by forced labor units, to holduntil at least the spring of 1945.

After posting local security, the exhausted sol-diers of Company E rested in two houses on theoutskirts of St. Blaise-la-Roche. The rest wasshort-lived. A guard challenged someoneapproaching the house occupied by the 3rd and4th Platoons. Getting a reply in German, he fired

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*Readers should not confuse this mountain village withanother, even smaller settlement called “St. Blaise,” which isjust two kilometers southeast of Raon l’Etape.

The town center, Raon l’Etape, 1944. [Both photos on thispage from The Story of the Century (SOC)]

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in the direction of the voice. One Jerry waswounded, three were captured, and one escaped.

The prisoners were searched and the woundedman given aid, then all were herded into the base-ment under guard.

We hoped this was all and that we could final-ly get some sleep, but no, the same sort of inci-dent recurred many times. By morning, we count-ed 23 prisoners and one good Jerry—a dead one.We discovered that we had picked a Germancompany CP for our position.

We remained in St. Blaise-la-Roche for threedays reorganizing and resting, but still conduct-ing patrols, even while our battalion was held inDivision reserve. There we ate a belated Thanks-giving dinner, abundant and delicious, to cele-brate success of the Vosges Campaign—a fort-night in Hell.

Snowline. (Signal Corps)

Mouterhouse, France, 9 December 1944The Maginot Line was our next “big picture”

objective, so we did an about-face and traveled 80miles by truck. For two days, commencing on 26November, we retraced our route through Raonl’Etape to Baccarat, then drove on throughBlâmont, Saarebourg, and Saverne, arriving inErnolsheim at night. There we were quartered inbarns and houses. One platoon occupied a hallthat German soldiers had vacated in a hurry, leav-ing uniforms and equipment. For the Company,Ernolsheim meant a day’s rest and our first expe-rience with Alsatian hospitality—home cooking,local wine, and that searing poison they callSchnapps.

After a rainy, six-mile march, on 29 Novemberwe arrived in Weinbourg and quickly establishedroadblocks. On the next day, we were alerted to apossible enemy tank attack from elements of the21st Panzer Division located in a large forest afew miles north. Our roadblocks were hence rein-forced and our 3rd and 4th Platoons sent on a spe-cial mission, namely, to clear and occupy the keytown to the northwest, Sparsbach, and thus pro-tect the Regiment’s flank against the threatenedtank attack.

At Sparsbach, the two platoons had their firstpractical experience in clearing a town and

establishing military government. Working ontips from the FFI (Forces françaises de l’intérieurs, orFrench resistance), they ousted the pro-Nazi townofficials and reinstated, under our control, theloyal French governing body. There were alsoother things to celebrate, such as the appointmentof the unit’s first GI Town Commandant andword of the birth of his first son that was receivedthen.

These events were appropriately toasted with atwo-day feast of “requisitioned” French chickens,steaks, and our first food packages from home.The Schnapps flowed freely, too. The threatenedpanzer attack failed to materialize, and at mid-night on 2/3 December, the 3rd and 4th Platoonsrejoined the Company at Weinbourg. Later welearned that soon after our men had vacatedSparsbach, the town was leveled by enemyartillery. At 0330 on 3 December, we set out forRothbach, five and one-half miles northeast, toreestablish contact with the enemy. Rothbach wasquiet except for enemy artillery; shells had beenfalling with methodical regularity for the pastthree days.

We knew we were close to an enemy with hisback to the wall, on the doorstep of the “Father-land,” and the air was electric with tenseness. Wesensed the approach of a tough fight. The hoursdragged by as we sweated out the coming of H-hour, 0900, 3 December.

At the very start of our attack, we were pinneddown by a fanatical enemy deeply entrenched onthe forward slope of Hill 369, our objective thatday. The soul-jarring scream of their lighter pro-jectiles and the deep roar of their bigger stuff,from 150mm howitzers and up, shook us to theroots of our beings. We had met some Jerryartillery before, but never like this. “Won’t thosegoddamn boxcars ever quit coming?”

Several attempts to flank the enemy under thisbarrage were unsuccessful, and we becameresigned to the fact that we had met a force farsuperior in numbers and firepower. While dig-ging in for the night after being ordered to the

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Pursuit to the Maginot

Advance toward the Maginot Line, Winter 1944–45.(Signal Corps)

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XV Corps Pursuit Through the Low Vosges,Early December 1944

right flank of the battalion zone, a new weaponterrorized us in our experience; it was our firstencounter with the “Flak-Wagon.” Although itwas against the General and Hague conventionsto purposely use against ground troops (muchlike our own .50-caliber machineguns), theseautomatic cannon, designed for anti-aircraftdefense, threw 20mm explosive and tracerrounds at us in inconceivable quantities. We dugprone shelters frantically and “logged” them overwith the trees Jerry obligingly felled for us withhis boxcar artillery.

We lost our company commander that night(illness) but he returned in several days. He wentback to the battalion aid station, a very sick man.The Company tenaciously held its position thatday despite constant pounding by mortars andartillery.

Continuing the advance the next day, 4 Decem-ber, at noon, the 3rd Platoon encountered minesand booby traps, the weapons mortally dreaded

by infantrymen. The 3rd had been ordered to ahill on the right of a highway in the battalion sec-tor to knock out weapons supporting a roadblockthat was preventing our tanks from advancing.

In marking a path through a dense anti-tankminefield, the platoon leader of the 3rd and hisfirst scout also verified a rumor of the enemy’sfaulty ammunition. They tripped a “Bouncin’Betty,” an S-mine that hurled itself into the air butfailed to explode.

The men of the 3rd engaged in a running fire-fight, took two prisoners, and knocked out theweapons they were after. It was a large hill theyhad to hold, however, and while the platoon wasconsolidating and reorganizing on their objective,the enemy counterattacked at their weakestpoint. Caught off balance, the platoon’s prospectswere dark, but fortunately the rest of theCompany arrived just in time and drove theGermans off, the objective secure. At dusk wedug in and that night learned that our original

objective, Hill 369, north of Ingwiller, had beenseized. Doing so, however, had required a wholeinfantry battalion (the 3rd Battalion of our ownregiment), preceded by an artillery TOT mission.*In two days, we had overrun the enemy’s keydefenses in the Rothbach area.

On the morning of 5 December, we began tochase the retreating Germans. The companies ofthe 2nd Battalion leapfrogged their way from hill-top to hilltop in their advance toward Reiperts-willer. Through streams and deep underbrush,we marched up and down endless steep hills,often in sight of a beautiful unused highway thatparalleled our course. This would have beenfaster, but much less safe; besides, the terrain fea-tures on either side of the highway were the logi-cal places for the enemy to defend, so we weregoing the hard way.

We reached Reipertswiller at nightfall and ourattached tanks were used for roadblocks. Weturned in, tired but happy to be under a roofagain. The next day, 6 December, we moved at1330 to seize the tiny hamlet of Melch and thehigh ground overlooking Mouterhouse, the lastmajor step in our drive to the Maginot Line.

Mouterhouse was a key rail supply center forthe Maginot outposts and the last stand bastionbefore a vulnerable approach to the Line itself.The town, stretched out in a valley between twohigh ridges of the Low Vosges Mountains (the

Germans call this extension of the Vosges north ofthe Saverne Pass which crosses over into thePalatinate the “Hardt” Mountains), presented aserene picture when we first viewed it that morn-ing on the third anniversary of Pearl Harbor, 7December 1944. Even before we launched ourattack, however, an enemy patrol infiltrated as faras our CP, and in the early dawn, a short fire fighttook place, killing one of our men. After captur-ing two and chasing off the rest, we began ourpush for the town.

We advanced as far as the wooded ridge over-looking the town before the German artilleryzeroed in. Their concentration was so accurateand dense that we were forced to begin digging inwhile the platoon leaders went forward to recon-noiter a route of approach into the town. Duringthat time, our attached artillery FO called for fireon suspected enemy observation posts. One of

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Left: A German “Flakwagon,” in this case, aKrauss-Maffei half-trackwith the deadlyFlakvierling quad 20mmantiaircraft guns.National Archives (NA)

Below: As part of theirdelaying tactics, theGermans left an abun-dance of mines on likelyavenues of approach.These were cleared safe-ly, but they still sloweddown the advance.(SOC)

*TOT= “Time on Target,” an artillery mission that combinedfires from several units, firing from disparate locations, butbrought all rounds together on the target simultaneously, tocreate a single, overwhelming effect.

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The 100th Infantry Division first encounteredthe 361st Volks-Grenadier Division during thedrive north from Sarrebourg toward Bitche. Itwas elements of the 361st that captured most ofCompany A/398th in Wingen-sur-Moder on 4December, and it was this division that so stub-bornly opposed the 100th’s advance at Lem-berg and Mouterhouse.

The first division to bear the number “361”was activated 24 September 1943 in Denmark.It was built around a cadre from the remnantsof the 86th Infantry Division, which had beenalmost destroyed in the battle for Kursk, in theUSSR, just a few months before. Replacementscame from the Rhineland and Westphalia toform around this core, and after about fivemonths of training, the 361st, commanded by Generalleutnant Siegmund Freiherr vonScheinitz, entrained for the Eastern Front.

From March to August 1944, the 361st Infan-try Division fought the Soviets in Belorussiaand Poland, as part of Army Group Center. Bylate summer, the 361st was all but destroyed,and the division was disbanded.

The second unit to bear this number was theunit which fought in the Low Vosges. It wasorganized as a Volks-Grenadier Division(VGD), and was built around an infantry cadre.Again, it included mostly men from the Rhine-land and Westphalia, but this time, many ofthem were reclassified Navy ratings andLuftwaffe troops who by virtue of the fortunesof war, were out of a job. The ex-antiaircraftgunners, ASTP men and former Air Corps

“flyboys” who ended up in as infantrymen inthe 100th Infantry Division weren’t the onlyones who got more than they bargained for.

The new 361st VGD’s commanding general,Generalmajor Alfred Philippi, was a 41-year-old infantryman from Austria who had wonthe Knight’s Cross for valor on the EasternFront. Commenting on his new charges’ atti-tude toward the Army, he remarked that few ofthem were enthusiastic about duty as combatinfantrymen. He added, however, that, “Thecombination of men from Westphalia and theRhineland proved favorable: the tough, perse-vering character of the Westphalian and thelight temperament and verve of the Rhine-lander were a good mixture.”

After about five weeks of training, the 361stVGD was deployed in Lorraine, fighting defen-sive and delaying actions against elements ofthe US Third Army. In November 1944, theyopposed the advance of the 44th InfantryDivision near Sarrebourg, and in December,they grudgingly gave ground as they foughttenacious delaying actions from south to norththrough the Low Vosges. After becoming famil-iar with the terrain between Bitche and theGerman border in this way, many of the 361st’sleaders had a distinct advantage when they ledtheir units over the same ground during thecommencement of NORDWIND—an advantagethat would be extremely useful when theycounterattacked in early January, straightthrough the positions of Task Force Hudelsonon the 100th’s right flank!

The 361st Volks-Grenadier Division

the serious but sometimes unavoidable accidentsof war occurred when our own artillery came inon us. No one was wounded, but it added to theconfusion.

Our only approach to Mouterhouse lay acrossa hundred yards of open field covered by bothsniper and machine-gun fire. One squad of the1st Platoon managed to get into a church on thefar end of the field, then a multiple-barreled flak-wagon opened up on us. The rest of the company

had to join the forward squad, however, so wefaced the fire for the longest hundred yards inhistory. If it had not been a life-and-death strug-gle, our acrobatics would have seemed funny aswe struggled across the slippery field at the high-est speed possible under our loads of grenades,rations, weapons, and other equipment.

One man ran into a slug in the process of gain-ing the church and an aid man rushed to helphim.

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“Where are you hit?” the gallant medic asked.The boy gasped “Stomach!” and fainted when

he glanced down. The medic, too, saw a grue-some sight as he searched for the wound: a splashof reddish meat and vile fluid covered the sol-dier’s mid-section. When the mess was brushedaway, the aid man discovered that a sniper’s bul-let had struck a can of “C” rations the “wounded”soldier was carrying, leaving him unharmedexcept for the bruise from the impact of the bulleton the can. There would be no “meat course” forthe otherwise incredibly lucky “casualty” thatnight.

Once established in the church, we set up ourlight machine guns and one heavy against the

murderous German flak and machine-gun fire.Our mortars, too, tried to get into action, but suit-able observation posts were untenable.

Covered by machine guns, the 2nd Platoonmoved from the church through a graveyard totheir zone at the west end of the town. Theyreached the house they were to clear by ingen-iously crawling down a shallow ditch andthrough sewers. The 3rd Platoon—with a missionof taking the eastern portion of the town and con-tacting Company F which was attacking on ourright—was stymied when they moved from thechurch to the nearest house in their zone andfound they had picked a house perched on atwenty-foot cliff, the side of which was being

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Mouterhouse

Scaled down extract of Map, 1: 50,000 BITCHE, Sheet XXXVII/13, US War Office, 1944

One grid square = 1 kilometer (.62 miles)

Contour Interval (altitude between contour lines) = 10 meters (10.9 yards, or 32.8 feet)

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continually peppered by machine-gun and sniperfire. It was too “hot” to move from their houseand darkness was falling, so they elected toremain there for the night.

The 1st Platoon, originally in support, movedinto a house near the 3rd, and soon found itself inthe same predicament; those men were “bottledup” for the night. The CP remained at the church,with the mortar section as security. The 2nd,meanwhile, was not encountering serious resist-ance, so they continued through western and cen-tral parts of town. Before midnight they contact-ed Company F, and most of Mouterhouse wasours.

It was a long night waiting for the inevitableGerman counterattack, but our artillery musthave convinced them that we intended to stay, fortheir usual tactic was not employed. During themorning of 8 December, the 1st and 3rd Platoonsjoined the 2nd, and cleared the remainder ofMouterhouse. We consolidated our positions anddispatched patrols to the ridge north of town.

When all was quiet except for occasional sniperfire, back came the 1st Squad of the 2nd Platoon,which had left us late the previous night. Theirdeparture in the black of night had been verymysterious. Only the company commander knewanything of their mission, and he knew very little.It was not until after they left that the men of the1st Squad found what was planned for them.Now that they had returned, each man was sur-rounded by his curious buddies, eager to hear ofthe squad’s strange experiences. It turned out thatin preparation for the attack on Mouterhouse, thisgroup had been selected to go forward on a patrolwith an officer from a heavy weapons platoon,infiltrate through the outposts and enemy posi-tions on a flank, and secure themselves on apromontory far behind the German lines. Therethey were to lend protection to the officer whilehe observed for 4.2” mortars from the 2ndChemical Mortar Battalion and our own battal-ion’s 81mm mortars. This 2nd Platoon squadmoved out into territory none had seen except ontheir maps, and they moved through enemy posi-tions about which S-2 had only meager informa-tion. Skillfully, they probed and searched foropenings, but found the defenses well tied-in. Toprevent further loss of time, it was finally decid-ed that the best avenue of approach lay across alake. The men crossed in freezing water up totheir armpits.

The next problem was to seize a house on thehigh ground that was their objective. Were theKrauts on that hill, or in that house? Even if theywere not ambushed, a skirmish that deep inenemy territory would arouse the entire town’sgarrison and spell failure for their mission. Thesquad surrounded the house selected and twomen pushed in. What a relief! There was only acellar full of cringing civilians and no members ofthe Wehrmacht!

With the house searched and guards posted,the men made attempts to dry their clothes, butthe suspense was fearful. They awaited dawn andH-hour far behind the enemy lines. With daylightcame the knowledge that they had not ensconcedthemselves on the position they had set out for,but that the terrain they found was equally good.They could see the two roads leading out ofMouterhouse to Bitche, one to the northwest andone to the east, so they could direct 4.2” and81mm mortar fire on those routes of potentialenemy reinforcement or egress. To their left andrear, they could discern flak-wagons and dug-inenemy that had to be neutralized, or even better,destroyed. Later that day, they watched enemyartillery level the house they would have been in.Directing fire on all of the Germans’ major posi-tions that impeded the attack on the town, theirdaring mission was given high commendation forits crucial part in the battle for Mouterhouse. Bestof all, the 1st Squad of the 2nd Platoon returned

A heavy mortar crew fires their M2 4.2-inch mortar insupport of advancing Seventh Army units in the VosgesMountains, late autumn 1944. US Army Military HIstoryInstitute (MHI))

from its successful mission with the report “AllPresent.”

On 9 December at 0900 we left Mouterhouse inan attack to the north with the ancient fortresscity of Bitche as the Division’s final objective. Bynightfall, we had advanced to Hill 410 againstscattered resistance from a seemingly disorgan-ized enemy.

The next morning, we continued the attackagainst stiffening resistance. Even before wereached the foot of Hill 410, we had encounteredharassing sniper fire; and soon after that, we raninto boxcars fired from the guns of the MaginotLine. That afternoon we held up on Hill 317, tiedin with the rest of the Battalion, and dug aperimeter defense under intense mortar fire.

Early on the morning of 11 December, anenemy patrol infiltrated our defenses from therear and surprised our heavy-machine-gun sec-tion. The whole section was captured intact, stillzipped in their sleeping bags. To add insult toinjury, the Jerries turned our own machine gunson us and fired a half belt into our area. Welearned our lesson, and never again zipped oursleeping bags.

By 14 December, we had advanced to positionstwo and a half miles north of Mouterhouse. At1300 that day, another company of our Battalionrelieved us. Going into battalion reserve, wemoved back to Mouterhouse for showers, mail,and packages, and to rest again in houses, whichwas increasingly welcome as the mountain

13

Bitche Ft. Schirmeck

Campe deBitche

Mouterhouse

14

winter nights grew ever longer and colder. Theshowers were a new provision of the ServiceCompany, which brought forward a portableeight-shower unit with a supply of clean clothes.This was our first opportunity for taking showerssince leaving Marseilles over a month a halfbefore.

The Company moved back to its former posi-tions the following day, 12 December. At this timeanother “first” occurred: we were allotted ourfirst pass-quota to Paris. We had barely settled inour holes when our orders were changed. Wewere ordered to move north on the road to Bitcheto a low ridge overlooking the German garrisonin the Camp de Bitche. Despite the previous

night’s rest the strenuous upgrade grind com-pletely exhausted us, but our pace quickenedwhen a dozen German artillery rounds greetedus, and soon we were digging with enthusiasmon the prescribed ridge.

At dusk we were attempting to make contactwith another unit on our right and to establishour own defense. As our left flank was exposed,Battalion loaned a reserve platoon to us. In theprocess of fighting them into position a friendlytank on our left opened fire on them and theywere unable to get into place. The Company thenshifted to the left and the 2nd Platoon took up thepositions originally intended for the reserve com-pany platoon.

Attack on Bitche Defenses

Scaled down extract of Map, 1: 50,000 BITCHE, Sheet XXXVII/13, US War Office, 1944

One grid square = 1 kilometer (.62 miles)

Contour Interval (altitude between contour lines) = 10 meters (10.9 yards, or 32.8 feet)

15

From Mouterhouse to BitcheScaled down extract of Map, 1: 50,000 BITCHE, Sheet XXXVII/13, US War Office, 1944 One grid square = 1 kilometer (.62 miles) Contour Interval (altitude between contour lines) = 10 meters (10.9 yards, or 32.8 feet)

Rimling, France, 13 January 1945We remained on the ridge overlooking the

Camp de Bitche for nearly five days, sweating outsporadic mortar shellings, and watching ourartillery pound the former French garrison,which the Germans had converted into a majortraining facility. Meanwhile, far to the north, inthe great Ardennes Forest of Belgium and Luxem-bourg, the German 5th Panzer, 6th Panzer, and7th Armies began their grand counteroffensive on16 December 1944. As what became known as the“Battle of the Bulge” began, the US Third Army,to our north and west, began to shift its forces toattack into the right shoulder of the salient, or“bulge,” created by the First Army’s withdrawalin the face of the German onslaught. This forcedthe Seventh Army to “give left,” to take over thedefense of the sectors vacated by Third Armyunits headed north. Thus, we had no choice but tosuspend our drive beyond the Maginot Line intoGermany, and to assume a defensive posture.

Participating in the defense of the SeventhArmy’s extended front, the Century Division wasordered to extend its sector to the left. We wererelieved of our positions on the promontoriesoverlooking Bitche by the 398th Infantry Regi-ment and marched back to Mouterhouse,entrucked, and rode to Petit Réderching viaLemberg and Enchenberg. There we dismountedand marched two miles to the Kapellenhof estateto relieve Company A, 114th Infantry Regiment ofthe 44th Infantry Division. Shifting north again,we relieved the 87th Infantry Division’s Com-pany L, 345th Infantry Regiment, 1,500 yardsnorthwest of Erching. Confused, in darkness, weeffected the relief on the coldest night we hadever experienced.

The company dug an outpost line in soil whichwas frozen as solid as rock. Two rifle platoonsand the weapons platoons were on the line withthe CP, while the other rifle platoon remained inErching. The same day, Christmas Eve, we wereissued our parkas.

Christmas morning was quiet and beautiful. Itseemed that both sides were going to observe theHoly Day. Except for a brief patrol into Germany,25 December meant packages and pay, and wemade plans for a Christmas dinner. Shortly beforewe were to have dinner with all the trimmings,the enemy lightly shelled Erching and our lines.We weren’t suspicious. Our hearts were set on apeaceful holiday. But we missed the meal:Company F was attacked.

With Company F driven from the commandingground, our positions were untenable.Unmerciful small arms fire poured in on us as weawaited orders. There was hope for a time thatCompany F could regain its ground, but soon theorder came: “Withdraw!” It was a new and terri-ble word for us. We weren’t used to defensivefighting, or to the withdrawal tactics of an out-post line.

It was hard to accept the idea of giving upground. Thinking of the hard fight and manylives lost—the probable cost of regaining thisground—we abandoned our positions andreturned to Erching, dodging machine gun firemost of the way. The three and one-half milespeed march through Rimling to Guising wasmade without casualties. The company’s twovehicles were loaded beyond recognition withsoldiers, equipment, and unopened parcels fromhome. With Yankee determination, the kitchenfed an abbreviated, hastily-prepared Christmasdinner in Guising at midnight.

Leaving Guising the next morning, wemarched three and a half miles through Bettvillerand Hoelling to Petit Réderching, where weimmediately dug our part of a regimental reservedefense line. Tied in with Maginot Line forts andpillboxes, the positions were situated in terrainideally suited to defensive operations.

The battalion sector was extremely large andorders were published for five different defensiveplans. For convenience and to avoid confusion,these plans were given color names: red, blue,

16

3

Winter Counteroffensive

green, brown, and black. We moved to the Rohr-bach railroad station, center of the battalion sec-tor, to be able to reach quickly any area attacked.This was how we were arrayed as we awaited thefirst hour of what we all prayed would be the lastyear of the war.

Alerted on New Year’s Eve for a possibleGerman attack, we waited, wondering where theattack would come and if there would be tanks.Waiting in defensive positions with no knowl-edge of what lies ahead has horrors altogetherdifferent from those of attack.

The Jerries finally struck, and at the weakestpoint in any defense—the juncture of two divi-sions. Our 3rd Battalion held the main line ofresistance (MLR), but troops of the 44th InfantryDivision on our left were pushed back severalthousand yards, exposing our flank. Our artillerykept the Germans from penetrating as far as ourpositions. We did capture an enemy reconnais-sance car, however, and took two prisoners. Theyhad attempted a surprise dash into our lines, butour roadblock stopped them. The Jerries leapedfrom their rolling vehicle and crawled into tankruts. One of our drivers, thrusting a pistol and afoot into the back of a prone Nazi, ordered, “Getup, you bastard!”

The Nazis tried to break our morale while wewere at the Rohrbach railroad station by throw-ing in enormous shells from one of their railwayguns. One night, two shells landed in our area,shaking us up badly but causing only one casual-ty—a man from another outfit. The concussionwas like that of an aerial bomb. It shattered win-dows and tore tile from the rooftops. Shell frag-ments rocked buildings and leveled trees. At thepoint of impact, coffin-sized blocks of frozenearth were hurled a score or more yards. One ofthose rounds could have demolished a house andkilled its occupants to a man. One shell missedour CP by about 75 yards and the other struck in

the backyard of another house. The side of thehouse was knocked in, and a man in the toiletwas lacerated by splintered glass.

The Air Corps had spotted the railway gun andflew many unsuccessful sorties against it. Theenemy hid the gun in a tunnel and was soharassed by the air raids that they dared expose itonly at night. The bombardiers, we later learned,finally destroyed the gun by skipping bombs intothe tunnel.

Fierce enemy attacks and severely cold weath-er reduced the fighting efficiency of the 3rdBattalion on the MLR. On 4 January, we beganrelieving their Company I, as our 2nd Platoonmoved into position that night. They had to drivethe Germans out of their holes with the aid of asection of light tanks from the 781st TankBattalion. At 1900 the next evening, the rest of theCompany marched two and a half miles toRimling and completed the relief. At dawn thenext day, we found that our positions were not oncommanding terrain. It was impossible to get outof our holes without meeting immediate enemysmall arms, mortar, and artillery fire. Because ofthis, we could not improve our positions, but hadto make the best of what we had. The four pla-toons of the company, moreover, were not tied in,but were separated by other units of the 2nd Bat-talion. Thus, the tactical integrity of the Companywas broken and we faced almost insurmountablecommunications and supply problems.

Our problems were compounded by constantenemy artillery attacks; we experienced non-stopshelling during the 96 hours we spent at Rimling.We could not get out of our holes except in

17

Typical Maginot casemate in the vicinity of PetitRéderching (SOC)

M5A1 tanks in action in the European theater. (NA).

18

darkness. During the days, we proved that a hel-met could be used for almost anything. The coldwas so severe that many of our weapons, as wellas their operators, were frozen. Fires were impos-sible, for the enemy could easily detect tell-talesmoke and flames. As for food, those who werelucky enough to find them, gnawed on frozen K-rations.

With the Company dispersed as it was, com-munication was one of the factors most vital toour survival. Incessant shelling kept our wirecrews continually on the jump to repair ourextended and vulnerable communication lines.They did a heroic job with the aid of riflemenwho volunteered to help them.

We experienced only local probing attacks inthe 2nd and 3rd Platoon sectors during the firsttwo days on the line in Rimling, then enemyattacks grew more forceful. During daylight, wekept their tanks at bay with artillery fire directedby our FOs (forward observers). The fire ordershad to be relayed from the 2nd Platoon to the 1st,then to the 4th; from there they were sent to theCompany E CP via Company H, thence to the

Battalion CP, where the calls for fire and adjust-ments were transmitted to the 374th FieldArtillery Battalion’s fire direction center. It wascomplicated, but it worked!

Early one morning there was a lull in theshelling to which we had become so accustomed,and then it came. . . . Instantly, like a bolt of light-ning, the sky was lit by what seemed like all ofthe enemy’s rocket launchers, mortars, andartillery pieces in the sector! The shells and rock-ets screamed at us, and the whole world explod-ed on top of us. Men gasped breathless prayers.They checked their watches, asked what day itwas. One does such things at times like this. Ithad started at 0200, 8 January 1945. It kept up.The continuous whining, the infernal screeching,then and the explosions—they dulled us torobots as we hugged the bottoms of our holes insheer terror. Would it never end?

It ended as suddenly as it had begun. The timewas 0225. Our minds were groggy from concus-sion. We sat up rigidly to check with buddiesnear us. As we did so, the enemy was upon us intheir tanks.

The German NORDWIND Offensive,1 - 10 January 1945

19

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The 1st Platoon held its positions, able to keepthe enemy off. When the 2nd was overrun andJerry had penetrated the flank of Company G,however, the plight of the 1st became dangerous.Somehow an order got through to vacate theposition and come to the CP in Rimling. Most ofthe platoon thus escaped the steamroller advanceof the Germans. The men worked their way backto our heavy mortars where the mortar platoonleader guided them on into the Company CP.There they joined Company HQ and some 4thPlatoon men to reinforce our defenses in thenortheast section of the town. The 2nd Platoonwas virtually wiped out when the Light TankPlatoon left its position supporting the 1st and2nd. Their efficiency and fighting power numbedby the intense cold and fatigue, the crazed enemyswarmed over them. Most of the 2nd Platoon wascaptured. The 3rd Platoon occupied the northernoutskirts of Rimling, tying in with Company F onthe left and Company L on the right.

Located on a piece of ground closely resem-bling the surface of a billiard table tipped towardthe enemy, the 3rd Platoon’s area extended some300 yards right from the main road approachingthe town from the north. During the day, the onlymen who could move were those in a barn beingused as a roadblock. The 3rd’s greatest dangercame from the enemy’s heaviest artillery, whichwas attempting to shell the town, but was fallingshort—right in the lap of the men on the out-skirts. After the terrific barrage on the morning of8 January, the enemy attacked from the west.

The men of the 3rd became the unwillingbystanders of the appalling attack. They couldhear the seemingly drunken Germans, see theirfire, and at times, by the light of flares, see themen themselves as they overran Company F andcircled to the 3rd Platoon’s rear. Next theywatched the enemy running the streets ofRimling, shouting “Heil Hitler,” and demandingAmerican surrender.

In what seemed an eternity of hell, daylightarrived to disclose a desperate situation. Twohundred yards to the rear were three “HuntingTiger” tank destroyers moving slowly up anddown the streets of the town. That day, the 3dPlatoon sniped at the enemy, and after communi-cation lines to the CP were restored, they wereable to drive off several tanks in their area andbreak up three daylight attacks. Here again, a cir-cuitous communication route to artillery wasemployed, and it saved the group from disaster.

The machine-gun section, attached to the 3rd,had particularly troublesome times, too. Onesquad held the barn at the roadblock while theother, with several riflemen, was in a house onthe left of the road protecting an anti-tank gunthere. During the counterattack, this position wasoverrun, and the men withdrew to the CompanyF CP. But no sooner had they arrived than theGermans, like wolves on the doorstep, werehowling outside, demanding surrender. Theyreceived a clip of eight rounds from a rifleman’sM-1 as an answer.

The Jerries met such defiance by attacking thebuilding in force, and although our machine gunsand rifle fire accounted for forty or more, theholding force was too meager to withstand, andthey withdrew into the night. By dawn, themachine gun squad and its supporting riflemenwere again in the house that they had been forcedto evacuate near the road. From there during thefollowing night and day, they made sure thateven more of the Waffen-SS and German Armydied for “der Fuhrer.”

On the night of 8 January, the Germans againcounterattacked what was left of the Battalion’spositions in the town. Again the 3rd Platoonwatched, and by morning the entire rear was inenemy hands. The only remaining contact withthe Company CP was by a mile-long detourunder constant enemy observation through thesector held by Company L on the right flank.Again the Germans attacked the 3rd’s positions inan effort to eliminate the one remaining nub thatthey had been unable to displace in the originalcounterattack. The 3rd drove them off with riflefire and artillery. By 1940 hours that day, Battalionordered the group to withdraw through Bettvillerto Guising, thus leaving the only original positionthat the Battalion had held throughout the entirebattle.

During the battle of Rimling, the machine gunsof the 4th Platoon were attached to the rifle pla-toons, but the mortars were set up in battery in aquarry within sight of the town. The enemy sus-pected the quarry of being a gun position anddirected harassing fire on the area. During day-light hours, it was impossible for the mortar mento move without drawing artillery, and at night,movement was even more hazardous because ofthe many duds lying in the area.

The mortar section maintained both physicaland mechanical contact between the 1st Platoonand the Company CP. They also supplied the 1st

20

and 2nd Platoons with what food and ammuni-tion they could.

As the German artillery increased to a crescen-do, the effect of the concussion was even moretelling in this location because of the confinementcreated by the stone walls of the quarry. To makematters worse, shell fragments were supplement-ed by flying rock chips, and were equally deadly.Those things, along with the bitter cold, quicklyfatigued the men in the quarry. During theevening preceding the main attack, the platoon oflight tanks assigned to support this inadequatedefensive position left the mortar section againstthe demands of the company commander. Themobile firepower of the tanks had been of theutmost importance in defending the area west oftown, and when they left, anyone who could notsee their departure could certainly hear it, includ-ing the enemy. Perhaps this prompted the imme-diate German attack.

After a devastating 25-minute preparatory bar-rage, hardly had the last round exploded beforethe mortar men could hear the nearby rumble oftanks.

Regardless of training, it is always difficult forinfantrymen to face tanks alone. For these men, itwas their first encounter with armored might.The preparatory enemy artillery barrage haddestroyed all communications between the menin the quarry and the rest of the Company, so itwas with great anxiety that they greeted a groupof riflemen rushing into their position with areport of disaster among the closest rifle platoon.The riflemen who ran down into the quarry werefrom Company G. They reported that enemytanks and infantry were between them andbehind the battalion’s rifle positions, and thateveryone was retreating.

The observers for the mortars looked for tar-gets. What they saw verified the desperateness ofthe situation. Enemy soldiers were yelling andscreaming like frenzied beasts, machine gunswere being fired from tanks point-blank into thefoxholes of their buddies. German soldiers werepiled all over tanks, firing in the air, throwinggrenades indiscriminately, and shooting flares.They were obviously drunk or doped. The wholescene was a nightmare.

The mortars were useless in such a situation, sopistols and carbines were the only weapons themortar men could employ. Very soon an outpostof four men arrived from the 1st Platoon with the report that their outfit had been ordered to

withdraw; these men had received the order, butwere separated from their platoon.

The first enemy appeared on the edge of thequarry. The enemy tank’s main gun lowered atthe men in the trap, but Company H heavymachine guns chattered in the draw to the rightand attracted the attention of the German tankers.Then a second tank came to a halt on the precipiceon the left flank of the pit; this time, the mortarmen were seen.

In German came the cries: Sie sind hier! Komm’‘raus mit den Hände hoch! (“There they are! Comeout with hands up!”)

This was it. The men could not fight backagainst armor, and they could not surrender.Darkness was an ally, and somehow these men ofthe 4th Platoon escaped in small groups. Somereached the CP, but most of them got awaythrough the draw running parallel to the road toGuising. A few groups of enemy soldiers werespotted and bypassed, but soon they came upona line of infantry stretched out across the draw,digging in. Studying the silhouettes of thosestrangers in the early dawn, the mortar men feltsure that they were American. If they were not,however. . . . It was a momentous decision; everyman shared the responsibility and voted. All werein favor of chancing it, and three men walked for-ward. GIs who were making a hasty seconddefense stand halted them. It was a part ofCompany G that had gotten back. Rifles wereobtained from the Aid Station in Guising, and themortar men served in foxholes as riflemen. Therewere other men from Company E who had comeback the same way, and all of the men weregrouped in the same part of the line awaiting theonslaught of the enemy.

By full daylight, the riflemen could see tanksand infantrymen on the ridge ahead. The infantrybrazenly began to dig in, apparently aware thatthey were beyond the range of American M1s.From hull defilade, the German tanks aimedintense fire. Our tank destroyers rattled into posi-tion to return some of this fire. As they preparedto open up, two German armored cars poppedover the horizon. The TDs’ crewmen took carefulaim, then fired two rounds as if their guns hadbeen automatic weapons. The turret of one Jerrycar disappeared in smoke and flame and frag-ments of jagged steel, and the vehicle burned.Shortly afterward the German division com-mander, SS-Standartenführer (Colonel) HansLingner, was surprised on the same ridge and

21

22

captured by elements of the 114th Infantry, to ourleft.

Before the Germans began their attack to seizeRimling, the Company CP was established in asturdy stone house. Earlier shelling had damagedits roof, but it was otherwise advantageous as acommand post. When the intense shelling began,nearby houses caught fire and some burnedbrightly for two days. The men posted at the CPhad lighted candles, but extinguished them at thefirst bursts of the Jerry barrage. The sudden dark-ness created appalling confusion. No one couldfind his helmet, and now that it was missingeverybody felt its protection paramount. Fasterand faster rumbled the boxcars. All the fury ofHell broke loose on the ill-fated town, and thethunderous barrage seemed directed particularlyat one house, the CP. Men stumbled about blind-ly; some found mattresses and crawled underthem to avert the danger from falling masonry.One lieutenant, missing his helmet, had stretchedhis woolen cap over his entire face. An old-timerin the Army only a few days short of a completehitch, he voiced everyone’s pessimism as hefeverishly muttered, “I’ll never finish thisenlistment.”

The CP was miraculously undamaged whenthe barrage lifted, but communication wasimpossible; the fate of the rest of the Companywas unknown. The likelihood of being overrunby a superior enemy force was of prime concern.Two light machine guns were on hand, and thesewere set up where the gunners could best com-mand the surrounding terrain. Lookouts wereconstantly at each window, in the barn, in outly-ing buildings, thus minimizing the danger of atrap.

Shells tore off the remainder of the CP’s roofduring the night. Another peril arose next morn-ing in the shape of three German Mark IV tanks.Further attempts failed to establish radio contactwith Battalion HQ. A report received from the 1stPlatoon, however, reassured the CP that the 1sthad managed to withdraw into some housesacross the street from the CP, to administer aid totheir wounded.

Artillery fire was laid on the enemy tanks inthe 1st Platoon area; soon the heavy shelling, firstby 105mm and later by 155mm howitzers, forcedthe tanks to move. A number of Germans wearingwhite capes walked forward with their tanks. Afull company of enemy infantry was sightedmoving southeast across the 1st Platoon area to

cut us off from the rear. Placing light machineguns on manure piles, Company E men pinnedthem down at a range of six or seven hundredyards.

At this crucial point, radio communicationswent dead and we were no longer able to bringartillery fire to our support. Soon 81mm mortarshells started dropping. These forced the MarkIVs and the SS Panzer-Grenadiers accompanyingthem to withdraw to the 1st Platoon area between1100 and 1200 that morning. Everyone was over-wrought, eager to fire at anything that moved.One of our officers was nearly shot as he reportedat the CP. Ammunition was redistributed inpreparation for the grim fight ahead. Even thecomfort of warm food was denied the men; thesmoke of cooking fires would draw enemyartillery fire.

The CP was soon menaced again by theGerman tanks, which returned to the 1st Platoonarea. The company commander was finally ableto contact a tank destroyer that had moved dur-ing the morning into the center of Rimling. Thetank destroyer clanked its way forward to the CPand lumbered into cover behind some manurepiles. Everyone except the ill crew scurried intothe cellar to avoid the gun’s muzzle blast, and toescape possible return fire from the enemy tanks.At the first round from our gun, one Jerry tankburst into flames. A second round slammed intothe burning monster; the gun crew “just wantedto make sure.” Eliminating the threat from thefirst tank, the TD crew at once swung their sightsonto the second, the one that lay in partialdefilade on the hill. A single round crumped intothe tank’s tread, and amidst the smoke and dustappeared an orange flag. That flag was destined

A Sherman crew’s nightmare: a Panzerjäger VI Jagdtiger (“Hunting Tiger”), the most heavily-armed,most heavily-armored fighting vehicle of the war. (NA)

to remain a mystery; for at that moment a five-man German light-machine-gun squad was sight-ed inching its way upward on a trail behind theCP. As suddenly as they had been sighted, theywere dispersed; the CO snatched up a BAR, emp-tied a magazine at the hostile figures, and forcedthem to scramble for cover.

The TD followed the five men as they dashedinto a barn, hurled four HE rounds after them.The Company E men subsequently found all butone: three men slightly wounded and the fourthunharmed, but playing dead. Company E hadtaken four prisoners and had learned another les-son: stay out of cellars when under fire . . . theenemy may at any time try to attack.

German artillery pummeled the town. Underconstant shelling, Company E prepared withfierce determination to repel any night attack.

Battalion HQ called for continuous patrolling sothat communications to Guising might be keptclear through the night. Defense was little short ofimpossible with the heavy snow blanket thatblinded men and muffled every sound. It was bit-terly cold, there had been no sleep or food for twodays; small wonder the men were scarcely able tokeep awake or alert . . . or alive.

Darkness—made doubly unendurable by anxi-ety, uncertainty, and discomfort—at last stretchedinto daylight. And with the dawn, vague fearsgave place to real threats. Enemy riflemen wereseen digging in on the high ground from whichCompany F had been driven the day before.Artillery fire repelled them, only to have themreturn when the fire lifted. Shells screamed andcrashed into the new German positions, andthose Jerries who were able withdrew—only toreturn once, twice, again as the shells ceased theirwrathful roar. American artillery, fired so oftenwith such deadly effect, was for once inadequate.Several batteries were employed to drive off thetenacious Germans, but observation was almostimpossible, and the confusion arising out of thebatteries’ firing simultaneously gave the Jerriestheir one chance for holding their ground.

Battalion HQ ordered a withdrawal at 1900that night, and Company E was to be the last unitto leave Rimling. Moving east, the Company’sone jeep and trailer rattled on, bearing a wound-ed man, and piled high with equipment.

While crossing a stream, the jeep sank in deeptank ruts, and was saved only by a tank crew,which pushed the overburdened vehicle onto theopposite bank. The Company had barely clearedRimling when the town, already in shambles, wasleveled by our artillery. Advance echelons of the

23

Captain Jack Churchill of the776th Tank Destroyer Battalion,examines a knocked-out Jagdtiger(“Hunting Tiger”) tank destroyer.With ten inches of frontal armor(the thickness of which can beseen on the detached front plateon top of the chassis) and anenormous 128mm main gun, thisvehicle was the most formidableto see action in WWII. This particu-lar Hunting Tiger of Heavy TankDestroyer Battalion 653 wasknocked out by a 397th InfantryRegiment bazookaman near Rimling . . . with a brave andlucky shot! (NA)

Heavy machine gunners near Rimling prepare to engageyet another onslaught by elements of the 17th SS-Panzer-Grenadier Division, January 1945. (Signal Corps)

2nd Battalion, mistaking the trapped Germanadvance columns for Company E, thought thatthe company had been annihilated in the shelling.The Company reorganized at Guising and pro-ceeded to the Gare de Rohrbach, where, at mid-night, with no food or sleep for 48 hours, theyhacked foxholes out of the frozen earth and wait-ed for a renewed German attack.

When the German offensive had been stopped,men of the 100th Division learned that theirs hadbeen the only division along the entire SeventhArmy front to hold its original ground. TheCentury Division held fast under repeated fierceattacks of three German divisions: the 559th and257th Volks-Grenadier Divisions of the GermanXC Corps—which had hit the 399th Infantry andparts of the 398th on the Division’s right (eastern)flank—and the crack 17th SS-Panzer-GrenadierDivision of XIII SS Corps, which had hit us. When

the German rush had been stopped, the 100thDivision sector protruded far ahead of other partsof the 7th Army line, and when we were orderedto withdraw, it was to even out what had becomean untenable salient into the German lines.

Company E held its positions around the Garede Rohrbach for eight days. Each platoon pulledoutpost duty in Guising for a day at a time. Therest of the company was reorganized andreequipped, while new men were trained in theirduties.

The officers were engaged in laying out elabo-rate defense positions extending from PetitRéderching through Rohrbach, the Gare deRohrbach and almost to Gros Réderching. Theengineers brought up pneumatic drills, snow-plows, and dynamite, and dug positions out ofthe frozen earth. They worked day and night,their operations covering thousands of yards,

24

Götz von Berlichingen (1480–1562) was a late-medieval nobleman who was a sort ofGermanic Robin Hood. A fiery Swabian war-rior, he lost his right hand at the siege ofLandshut in 1504, and had it replaced with aprosthetic fist made of iron. The men of thehard-driving Waffen-SS formation named forhim took especially great pride in his mostfamous quotation, a defiant retort to a surren-der demand in one of his many campaignswhich can best be translated as, “Kiss my ass!”

On 3 October 1943, Hitler ordered the cre-ation of the 17th SS-Panzer-Grenadier Division,and decreed that it be named after von Berlich-ingen. It was raised in France with an officerand NCO cadre from experienced Waffen-SSdivisions, and soldiers from all over Germanyas well as Volksdeutschen (“racial Germans”)from central and southern European countries;there were also a minority of Volksdeutschenfrom Belgium, Luxembourg, Alsace, and Lor-raine. Many of the initial complement of Volks-deutschen were conscripts. As the divisionreceived replacements for its casualties in1944–45, draftees became the norm.

From the beginning, the 17th was especiallytrained in night operations to compensate forthe conditions its leaders anticipated for thebattlefields of the Western Front, where the17th was expected to fight. Its leadership insist-ed on at least 25 percent of all tactical trainingbeing conducted under these conditions. By thetime of the NORDWIND attacks against the 397thInfantry near Rimling and the 44th InfantryDivision to the west, however, whatever profi-ciency the 17th’s infantry units had developedin night operations must have been lost withthe casualties it suffered in Normandy—onlythis can account for the crude “wave” attacksits Panzer-Grenadiers launched at Schlietzen andSchlossberg Hills in the first week of January1945. The ultimate attacks on Rimling, howev-er, were prosecuted by the division’s reconnais-sance battalion, which retained the originalstandards of training and proficiency.

The 17th fought extensively in the Nor-mandy campaign, and suffered heavy losses ofmen and materiel there and during the subse-quent withdrawal across France to Lorraine.During its protracted combat, it absorbed the

The 17th SS-Panzer-Grenadier Division“Götz von Berlichingen”

while the infantry sat back and supervised. Theriflemen were dismayed when all this bulky andnoisy equipment was brought up, but surprising-ly enough, it drew very little artillery fire.

At one point in the line, an engineer officeraccompanied by an infantry officer was inspect-ing the two-man foxholes completed that day.Jerry chose this moment to throw in some 75mmshells. The infantryman leaped for the nearesttwo-man hole as the other officer headed for thenext shelter fifty yards away. The infantrymanyelled, “This is the closest hole!” The engineerdove in with him in the nick of time. When thebarrage lifted he glanced at the hole he had beenabout to occupy. It had become a shell-crater.

The company was alerted and moved out ofthe Gare de Rohrbach at 0800 on 19 January. Aftera six-mile march through snowdrifts and drivingsleet, they reached Holbach and Hottwiller,

France. The company spent five days in defensivepositions east and west of Hottwiller and then tendays back in Holbach while another companypulled five days on line in their turn.

In this, as usual, Company E led off, and pulledthe first trick on line. The weather was bitter theentire time. The men were wet and suffered fromcold the entire five days. Their foxholes wereankle deep in water and continually caved in.They were unable to get warm, for exposure dur-ing the day resulted in renewed mortar andartillery fire. The Germans advanced into small-arms range and ensured sleepless nights with afew rounds from their burp guns. Every nightafter dark, a report would come over the wires,“Burp gun Charlie is out again tonight. “

Company E was on the line in Hottwiller intheir occupation of that sector. By constant workon their positions, all accomplished in darkness,

25

49th and 51st SS-Panzer-Grenadier Brigades,and fought against US Third Army elementsnear Verdun and Metz. During the periodOctober to January, the 17th was commandedby no fewer than four different commandingofficers, and just before it was committed toNORDWIND, it received a large contingent ofRussian Volksdeutsche as replacements for itstwo depleted Panzer-Grenadier regiments.These factors—lack of cohesion borne of littleopportunity to train together and turmoil in theDivision command structure—combined withthe tenacious defense of elements of the 44thand 100th Infantry Divisions to spell failure forthe 17th in NORDWIND.

Ordered to conduct the main attack for theXIII SS Corps in NORDWIND, the 17th’s missionwas to penetrate the American defenses andopen the road to Diemeringen to the south; itwas also to link up with elements of XC Corps,attacking from east of Bitche. Supported byattacks by the 19th and 36th Volks-GrenadierDivisions against the defenses of the 44thInfantry Division to the west, the 17th’s successin this maneuver would allow Army Group G’sarmored reserve (the 21st Panzer and 25thPanzer-Grenadier Divisions) to dash to Saverneand beyond, as well as annihilate the 100thInfantry Division. Determined resistance fromthe 44th and 100th Divisions prevented this

penetration and encirclement, however, andcompletely frustrated the intentions of theGerman command. The epic stand of the 397thInfantry’s 2d and 3d Battalions at Rimlingagainst repeated, spirited attempts by the 17thto take the town contributed especially to the17th’s failure—and was recognized by aPresidential Unit Citation for the 3d Battalionand Company H of the 2d, as well as a posthu-mously-awarded Medal of Honor for TechnicalSergeant Charles Carey, one of the many stal-warts of Rimling’s defense.

The failure of the 17th to accomplish its mis-sion resulted in the relief for cause of the divi-sion operations officer and other key staffmembers on 3 January; a few days later, the 29-year old division commander, Standartenführer(Colonel) Hans Lingner was captured by ele-ments of the 44th Infantry Division. Althoughthe 17th continued to attack for the next sever-al days, the commanders of 1st Army andArmy Group G had given up hope for any suc-cess, and the 17th was withdrawn.

The 17th eventually withdrew fightingacross Germany and met its end at the hands ofSeventh Army units south of Nürnberg(Nuremberg). In the process, elements of the100th again fought against the 17th, when the398th Infantry crossed the Neckar at Neckar-gartsch in early April.

the men had constructed wood-lined foxholes bymid-February. These kept the men dry, and heavywooden tops were cut for protection against shellfragments.

Tactical (barbed) wire and many trip flareswere strung in front of the lines. The artillery hadregistered on every square inch of ground acrossthe front of the positions, and concentrations ofartillery and mortar fire could be laid down at amoment’s notice. The CP had wire communica-tion to each platoon, and they, in turn, had com-munication with each squad, totaling some six-teen phones, including those to the heavymachine-gun section attached from Company H,observation posts, and mortars. The company CPset up an elaborate communications board withan operator on duty at all times. He listened to thecompany lines, recorded all reports, and maderoutine checks. There were also two phones toBattalion and one direct to the artillery fire direc-tion center.

While on the line, the men received hot chowtwice a day, and ate “K” rations at noon. Mealswere served by carrying parties in the earlymorning and late afternoon under the cover ofdarkness.

The company’s defenses were built around theFort Simserhof complex, which was one of thelargest and most elaborate of the entire Maginotline. Some elements of Company E, notably themortar section, occupied these forts. In spite of

the danger of using these obvious targets, theyoffered protection from enemy artillery and mor-tar fire that opened up whenever we fired ourmortars. The forts had been used by the Germansas targets to test their heavy guns, and they hadalso been heavily bombarded during the 44thInfantry Division’s assault on them during theprevious month; the concrete walls were pockedand shredded from the impact of heavy shells.Great danger lay in the hundreds of duds scat-tered outside and inside the huge structures. Pilesof ammunition had been destroyed using TNT inthe vicinity, leaving dangerous fuses andundetonated rounds strewn throughout the inte-rior of the fortifications.

The larger forts had subterranean levelsdescending as deep as fifteen stories, and under-ground passageways connected many of theforts. Most of the structures had been demolishedby the French to make the position inoperative.These great gaping shafts and the duds scatteredaround threatened death to the unwary soldierwho ventured inside without a light. Since therewere not enough flashlights for every man, a safe-ty-tape was strung so that the GIs could movequickly and safely through the dark galleries.

There was the smell of death within thosemasses of concrete. The small gun apertures anda few shell holes were the sources of light, buteven they were inadequate. The tomblike dark-ness nurtured the dank odor. The strongest stench

26

Soldiers of the 44th InfantryDivision examine a fortified bat-tery of 75mm guns that are partof the great Maginot fortress(gros ouvrage) Fort Simserhof,December 1944. Company Eused various parts of theSimserhof complex during thefirst months of 1944. (SignalCorps)

27

Organized in early 1941 in Norway as a motor-ized SS Combat Group, formed around the 6thand 7th Death’s Head (Totenkopf) Regiments ofthe Waffen-SS. Considered unready for combatdue to lack of unit training at the time of itscommitment to the invasion of Russia.

The division’s first combat was as a full-fledged SS motorized division in northernKarelia in July 1941, as part of XXXVI Corps’attack to cut the Murmansk railway, a criticalsupply line for the receipt of Lend-Lease equip-ment from the States. The division suffered acritical defeat at the Soviet fortress of Salla, andwas subsequently retrained and infused withyounger men specifically trained to Waffen-SSstandards.

Reorganized and redesignated as an SSmountain division in 1942, the division assimi-lated a significant number of Volksdeutsche, orethnic Germans, from mountainous regionssuch as the South Tyrol and the Balkans, as wellas some Scandinavians who chose to join theSS—although these latter did not accompanythe Division to the Vosges.

Although the Nord Division never did breakthrough to the Murmansk railroad, long-rangepatrols frequently conducted raids against itduring the next three years of bitter combatagainst the Soviet Army, bands of partisans,and three near-Arctic winters. After Finlandconcluded a separate armistice with the Sovietsin September 1944, Nord fought the rearguardactions for the withdrawing 20th MountainArmy against Finnish units, which had, upuntil the month before, been allies.

After marching 1,000 miles from Finlandthrough Norway, the Division was taken byferry to Denmark later in December 1944, and acombat group built around SS-MountainInfantry Regiment 12 “Michael Gaissmair”arrived by train in time for participation in theopening blows of NORDWIND, and made thefateful attack to seize the key crossroads town

of Wingen-sur-Moder in the first week of 1945.By 9 January, the rest of the division wascommitted.

The division commanding general had thisto say about Nord’s condition at the time of itscommitment a few kilometers east of the100th’s sector in Operation NORDWIND, “[TheDivision] was fit for any commitment. Officersand men were, with few exceptions, soldiers oflong service, with particular experience in for-est and mountain fighting. Morale and fightingspirits were outstanding . . . [the Division was]until then unbeaten and victorious. . . .”

Although its SS-Mountain Infantry Regi-ment 11 “Reinhard Heydrich” mauled six com-panies of the 45th Infantry Division’s 157thInfantry Regiment on the hills north ofReipertswiller in the third week of January, likethe results of Operation NORDWIND overall,most of Nord’s operations fell short of intendedgoals. The two battalions of the MichaelGaissmair Regiment committed in the attack onWingen suffered most significantly, losing 70percent of the mountain rifle companies it com-mitted to that mission.

By February, the division had been orderedto conduct defensive operations in its sector inthe Low Vosges, and part of this sector wasopposite the 100th Infantry Division’s.Throughout much of the remaining time untilthe commencement of Operation UNDERTONE,the Seventh Army’s drive to and across theRhine in mid-March, many 100th InfantryDivision elements encountered the fierce andhighly experienced SS mountain infantry ofNord during their protracted period ofpatrolling and local defensive operations in thewar’s last bitter winter.

In March, Nord was transferred to the Saar-Moselle Triangle, where it was engaged byThird Army and ultimately pressed back intoBavaria, where it capitulated just days beforethe end of the war in Europe.

The 6th SS-Mountain Division“Nord”

came from the subterranean levels, where thebodies of men long dead lay putrefying in stag-nant water.

The mortars had ample supplies of ammuni-tion and used it freely. Heavy fire was the imme-diate response to every sound or movement.Flocks of sheep roamed the hills untended, andsometimes tripped a flare at night in front of thelines. This brought withering small arms fire andoften mortar and artillery concentrations. Theresult was scores of dead sheep in front of theAmerican defense lines.

The Germans were well aware of the locationof the American positions and respected theirstrength. They shelled them intermittently withmortar and artillery pieces of every caliber, andoccasionally sent out patrols. These patrols did noharm and those that were discovered were oftencaptured. They seemed quite willing to be takenprisoner. It was their artillery and mortar fire thatmade the situation uncomfortable. Company Esustained one casualty from enemy mortar fire.He was an excellent squad leader, and was killedduring a barrage while trying to observe thedirection from which the fire was coming. In try-ing to locate the enemy mortar position for ourartillery, he unwittingly exposed himself.

At first glance, a schedule of five days on lineand tens days back would seem comparativelyeasy. That proved not to be the case in thisinstance. Rimling left Company E with a greatdeal of reorganization necessary to regain fullfighting strength and combat efficiency. The com-pany was trained as thoroughly as conditionspermitted. The training was focused principallyon the automatic weapons and the mortars, butthere were also classes in field sanitation, militarycourtesy, and discipline. All weapons in the com-pany were test fired, causing nearby units to sus-pect an enemy penetration until informed other-wise over the phone. We continually sought toimprove our defensive positions around Hott-viller and at night laid wire and dug deeper fox-holes to accommodate the wooden linings con-structed by our carpenter shop. There had beeninstances of German infiltrators penetrating ourlines in American uniforms and vehicles; to fore-stall this danger, we manned roadblocks atHolbach, keeping a close check on all vehiclesand persons moving in that area.

The toughest job of all, however—eventougher than our regular five days on the line—were the night combat and reconnaissance patrols

we were required to operate. Men assigned to thishazardous work sweated out the tedious, danger-ous missions, and their anxious buddies sweatedout their safe return. Battalion S-2 (the intelli-gence staff section) was eager for prisoners fromwhom they could obtain information. Whentroops were in defensive positions, prisonersbecame one of the few available sources of enemyinformation. Our patrols found it difficult tobring in live prisoners. German resistance wasstiff; their positions were also strongly fortified.Many Germans died resisting our combat patrols.A few, eager for the relative safety afforded PWs,submitted willingly to capture. From the prison-ers we did secure, we learned we had beenknown . . . since the action at Rimling . as the“Terrible Hundredth.”

Our prisoners all were heavily dressed . . . sobundled up with clothes it amazed us that theycould fight. Their clothes were of warm wool, butdirty and worn. Every prisoner wore the charac-teristic ankle-length overcoat; we ceased wearingour overcoats shortly after going into combat,because at a distance, olive drab resembled slategray too closely. We learned a great deal aboutour German prisoners during these days. Welearned that he has a smell all his own: a combi-nation of perspiration-soaked wool and lice-pow-der that is unmistakable. We learned that theywere more miserable than we: he had no showerunits, few passes, and little rest. A “rest” consist-ed usually of a march from one sector or front toanother. We learned all this . . . but we didn’t needprisoners to learn one basic fact: our enemy was atough, ruthless fighter.

28

A 100th Infantry Division soldier surveys his sector from hisfoxhole, early 1945. The winter of 1944-45 was the mostsevere of the 20th century to that time. (Signal Corps)

Bitche, France, 15 March 1945We had thought it couldn’t happen to us, but

the order came we had heard so often before:ATTACK! Once you’ve been away from it, it isdifficult to comprehend the full meaning of thatword.

The whole Seventh Army was committed to amassive offensive into Germany, codenamedOperation UNDERTONE. Company E’s role startedwith leaving Holbach at 0400 on 15 March andmoving on to the high ground north of Hottviller.It is a miracle that there weren’t more casualties atHottviller. The minute we reached the town, theGermans hurled rockets at us. Streets of the jump-off town were congested with tanks and TDs andmen.

We found no natural cover or concealment onthe high ground. To reach commanding terrain,then, we were forced to crawl forward, single file,through the largest anti-personnel minefield wehad yet seen, all the while under heavy mortarshelling. We incurred three casualties in that longsnake-like procession and soon we were underfire from self-propelled guns. Men sought coverin tank ruts, in abandoned trenches, anywhere;no one could dig without drawing fire. With guts . . . and luck . . . Company E was ultimatelyable to report “Took objective; in position.”

This message was the signal for the rest of theRegiment to pivot on us northwest to Schorbach.The 397th was to cut the arteries of supply andcommunication leading north from Bitche, andthen besiege the fortress city, allowing the Ger-mans neither aid nor escape. The 398th and 399thwere to take Bitche.

While the enemy tried to blast their attackersfrom the face of the earth and stem the Regi-ment’s advance, Company E held its lines on apocked strip of ground north of Hottviller. The397th advanced; we held until 0300 the followingmorning, when we moved out again with tanks.Advancing through Schorbach along theHottviller-Schorbach road, we reached a draw to

the left of the road. We entered the draw, spotteda wide area dotted with camouflaged shelters andholes recently vacated by a large enemy force.They had retreated in haste; a number of theirdead lay where they had fallen.

Proceeding up the draw in column, wewheeled in a flanking movement, running acrossthe floor of the draw and up the steep slopes ofthe opposite side. The forward elements had justreached the crest when we heard the whine of the“screaming meemie” rocket guns. We hit the dirt,but we were bunched together . . . we had com-mitted the infantry’s cardinal sin. The roundsscreeched overhead and hit several yards away.That was good enough for us; elements had goneout in an effort to contact other units of the regi-ment, and we dug as we waited. As much dirtflew from our shovels as flew from the rocketbursts as we dug in under incessant barrage. Wemoved out, however, before the enemy hadzeroed in on us. We had contacted other units ofthe 397th by early morning. They were dug in ona ridge overlooking the main highway to Bitche.The road lay in a valley; our job was to seize thehigh ground beyond.

Starting down the slope, we were pinned downby intense fire from machine guns and SP guns.Under concealment offered by foliage, we man-aged to crawl out of a tough spot, and while Bat-talion called the 4.2” mortars for a smoke barragein the valley, we moved to get better cover.

The Air Corps tailed Jerry that day. We couldsee the “orange tail” squadron of the XII TAC (XIITactical Air Command was the Army Air Forcedivision-level command that provided mediumbomber, fighter-bomber, and fighter support toSixth Army Group), then as they strafed theirquarry, probably retreating German columns. Wealways prayed for good weather for the Army AirForces; the combination was death to the Krautartillery. Ask a GI watching our planes strafe theenemy who were our two greatest heroes, he’llprobably tell you the Wright Brothers.

29

4

The Battle for Bitche

30

The aerial attacks forced the Jerries to lightentheir shelling. Here, though, we suffered a casual-ty that affected every Company E man, for it washere that we lost our company commander. Hefell not as a victim of enemy fire but as a victim ofhis own determination and courage and self-imposed demands for performance. Fatigued bythe long winter and weakened by a severe attackof pneumonia, he left Company E, not to returnas its commander. Yet his example remained asthe embodiment of the Company’s strength,courage, aggressiveness, humor and...its honor.

The 4.2” mortars zeroed in on the draw withwhite phosphorous rounds, filling the whole areawith dense smoke. The mortar section had trou-ble with one gun; before they adjusted it to thetarget, two rounds fell short: one in Company E’sarea, and one behind the Battalion Staff. Therewere no casualties.

Once their mortars were trained on the targetthe 4.2” platoon threw round after round into theopen draw, and the enemy was soon unable tofire on us with any accuracy. Loaded down withequipment we ran across the valley as fast as wecould. We forded a stream and struggled up thesteep slope of the other side. Jerry continued tofire on a crossroads a few hundred yards distant,and spent fragments thudded all around us. Thewhole company finally crossed the drawunscathed.

The enemy didn’t spot us again until we hadclimbed high on the side of the ridge. We hadstopped to await further orders and to catch our

breath when several high-velocity SP gunsopened up on us. We were exposed, and the rockynature of the ground prohibited digging in. Wemoved on hurriedly and sought cover from theGerman guns in a terrain corridor on the ridge.Our artillery observers then went into actionagainst the enemy. Perhaps they computed theGerman positions by shooting azimuths; at anyrate, our artillery loosed everything they had onthe SP guns. It was enough to disperse them, andwe took no more fire from them.

Not long after this, we received instructions toseize a commanding piece of wooded terrainoverlooking most of the surrounding territory . . .and commanding the all-important route toBitche. The encirclement of Bitche was completedby this maneuver, and the rats were caught intheir trap. The top of the hill was a little confiningfor the whole company. There were elaborately-dug gun positions, dugouts, and trenches aboutthe crest. We holed-in, bone weary. Company Emen then slept for the first time in 36 hours. Afterbeing restrained from its capture since going overto the defensive in December, it took the CenturyDivision just 36 hours to accomplish what thePrussians failed to during their siege in 1793;what the Bavarians failed to achieve during theirattack in 1870, and what the mighty Wehrmachthad been unable to do during their attack in 1940,namely seize the bastion of Bitche by force ofarms. The Citadel—dating back to the early1700s—had never before been conquered.

Pirmasens, Germany, 22 March 1945We were packed on trucks, moving swiftly in a

cloud of dust, when someone cried out “There’sthe border—the German border!”

It was 1002 hours, 22 March 1945 . . . and it wasthe second time Company E had crossed theGerman frontier. The pursuit-race had begun inSchweyen early that morning. The town had hadbarely enough buildings standing to shelter theBattalion. Companies scrambled to secure quar-ters. It was an enthusiastic scramble, though, foron the march from Waldhausen to Schweyen,news came that we had been taken off the line foa brief assignment as Corps reserve. At last,Company E was to get a rest. Men congratulatedone another and spoke of the letters they weregoing to write, the sleep they were going to get,and the food they were going to eat. Theydreamed for seven hours of their great reward.Then they were ordered back on line. The seven-hour reserve status had only one result: ourrecord for continuous contact with the enemywas interrupted after 134 consecutive days.

After Bitche, our objective had been Waldhau-sen. Our march to that little French town hadbeen a long and eerie one—under heavy skies,through still, dark forests. The roads were bor-dered by countless gun positions. Shell cases andammunition boxes were strewn about. Mineswere concealed in neat piles among the trees. Theforest had been a German concentration point,and had been heavily shelled by Americanartillery. We were on the enemy so fast that hereagain they had been unable to remove their dead . . . or else didn’t care. One German soldier,who had been covering a roadblock with an auto-matic rifle, was scattered over a 40-foot area.There were no recognizable parts of his body;only minute fragments of flesh and a red putty-like substance.

Jerry corpses lay along the roadside ditches,the dirty gray death pallor on their faces. “Wishevery one of his buddies could see his stinkin’

body now,” said a buck sergeant viewing a blood-drenched German corpse.

We took Waldhausen quickly, at dusk. Therewe had a chance to sleep off the nightmare ofBitche. There were a few shells, a few wild rushesfor the cellars, but we had a rest. We stayed threedays and reorganized. Our executive officer, backfrom a brief leave in Paris, assumed command.

The 60-mile lightning drive through theSiegfried Line (the Germans called it theWestwall) to the Rhine took only two days. Weclimbed on anything that was rolling forward—artillery trucks, tanks, half-tracks, jeeps, and trail-ers. We moved fast . . . so fast that tankers burnedup bogey wheels as fast as they could replacethem. The weather was warm; we enjoyed therace.

We left Schweyen at 0800, crossed the Germanborder, and drove through the Siegfried Line.Viewing the maze of tank traps, dragon’s teethconcrete tank obstacles, wire entanglements,trenches, and cunningly camouflaged steel-rein-forced concrete pillboxes with their carefully-arranged interlocking fields of fire, we had toadmit that it was all in superb defensive terrain;we breathed a prayer thanking Him we didn’thave to fight our way through it. The SiegfriedLine stretched out as far as one could see, andwas about six miles deep at our breaching point.It was a game, during those six miles, to spot thewell-camouflaged gun positions and pillboxes.

The white flag of surrender flew from everyhouse in every town through which we roared.Flags? Well . . . pillowslips and sheets and night-gowns and petticoats, all converted suddenly intosomething more than protection from chilled air.In the first town, a group of Wehrmacht “super-men” were huddled dejectedly in the mainsquare, guarded by two proud GIs. The veryyoung civilians and the old waved us a happywelcome. We didn’t wave back. The men andwomen from 15 to 40 years weren’t happy. Theirfaces showed no hate, however, only dull

31

5

The Rhine Drive

incomprehension. They couldn’t admit to them-selves that the Fatherland, land of the Herrenvolk(the “Master Race”) had been overrun by the“gum-chewing cowboy Americans.”

By 2300 the first evening, we reached NorthPirmasens, where we billeted in a former GermanArmy Officer Candidate School. It was a group ofbeautiful modern structures much like a typicalnew American college. There were adequatequarters for the entire candidate battalion.Having ascertained there were no booby traps,we ate, posted guards, and slept.

The morning came warm and bright, and weleft Pirmasens after a rush for souvenirs of the German OCS. We passed through deepgorges cut with flashing streams, dark evergreenforests, and charming villages. In one of thestreams we washed away the dirt accumulatedsince we left Waldhausen. We passed throughtown after town and were gratified to see whiteflags everywhere. The people crowded along thesidewalks and hung out of windows to gawk atthe passing Americans. The children ran in terrorfrom our tanks. The civilians’ faces exposed whatwas in their hearts. There were expressions ofhate, resentment, and incomprehension.

We encountered a great many log crib road-blocks and also some roadblocks made of over-turned army vehicles and huge buses. Theseblocks aren’t effective, though, unless they’re cov-ered by infantry or artillery fire and with tanksand division engineers, we bored through quick-ly and without casualties. The quantities ofenemy soldiers retreating along these roads musthave been enormous. There was evidence of their

mad confusion on either side of the road. Theiroverloaded vehicles were abandoned where theybroke down on the road. There were civilian carsand trucks, SP guns, kitchen vehicles, ammuni-tion half-tracks, radar trucks, motorcycles, andeven some French trucks.

The retreating enemy seemed to have demol-ished most of the heavy guns and other ordnancethey abandoned, but the rest of the materiel laywhere it had been driven—into a ditch or over amountain precipice. Many of the vehicles hadcaught fire, or been burned purposely, and theystill smoldered and stank of burning rubber.Despite their invention of modern mobile war-fare, signs of the World War One level of technol-ogy that characterized much of the German Armywere everywhere; many horse drawn vehicles layabandoned or destroyed along the road, alongwith the occasional dead horses that had drawnthem.

One thing very noticeable about the vehicleswas the abnormal amount of trash around eachone. It seemed that the Nazis had collected a littlebit of everything and stored it all in their vehicles.After abandoning their unserviceable vehicles,they were unable to carry so many belongings ontheir backs and had apparently strewn them overthe ground to pick out what they could use. Therewere scores of records, forms, photographs, man-uals, toilet articles, apparel (both male andfemale), and Wehrmacht uniforms. There was alsotableware and trinkets, possibly French loot. Theywere now running for their lives and were nolonger interested in such items. Apparently, theywere also through fighting, since many rifles

32

A Seventh Army M-10 tankdestroyer crosses a row of“Dragon’s Teeth” tank obstacles inthe Siegfried Line. Combat engi-neers have built a field expedientberm over the otherwise impene-trable obstacles, and filled in theantitank ditch that laid beyond.The 100th Infantry Division wasfortunate that the Germans choseto not defend the Siegfried Linein its sector. (Signal Corps)

33

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ronn

34

were left behind. There was an occasional deadsoldier along the road who had probably died ofhis wounds and been left behind to lighten theload. It was the refuse of an army in its deaththroes, dying, but not yet dead.

We passed through two long columns that hadbeen strafed the day before by our fighterbombers. The first that we saw was in a deep val-ley. We could smell the stench of death evenbefore we could see the mass of wreckage. A hazeof smoke drifted lazily above this area we dubbed“the Valley of Death.” It was reported that 155vehicles had been hit; in addition, there werescores of dead horses and destroyed wagons. Alarge number of dead Krauts were visible fromthe road. The scene indicated untold suffering.Horses had twisted themselves around thewreckage in their death struggles. Their bodieshad burns on them with blisters as large aswatermelons. The odor of burned flesh filled theair.

Toward the end of the afternoon, we roaredinto Neustadt, Germany. It is a large city, thelargest we had been through. The rail yard at theapproaches to the city had been thoroughlybombed as were other sections of town.

We stopped for the night in Hochdoch,Germany. Our first experience of evicting civil-ians from and taking over their houses as quar-ters for our troops was here. We were clumsy atthis at first, but we soon became very proficient.A veteran of many quartering parties describedthe process this way,

The method, approved by Good House-keeping, is to select the most pretentious sec-tion of town with enough modern houses forat least two per platoon and one good housefor the CP. Have the interpreters go to all thehouses except the house chosen for the CPand give the civilians fifteen minutes tovacate. The civilians then take all their bed-ding and food to the CP house. After all isaccomplished, take the quartering party tothe house picked for the CP and evict theneighbors who thought they had a haven inthe house not picked by the Army. The sup-ply sergeant then sorts the bedding and foodequally among the platoons.

The next morning, we left Hochdoch at 1115hours, marching six miles to Schieferstadt. Wearrived at 1230. The pace was too fast andbecause of the heat and the weight of their equip-ment, there were a great number of stragglers andsome men fell out. We had no more than eatenand gotten settled when orders came to prepareto move once again. That evening we entruckedand shuttled to Oggersheim, Germany, arrivingat 2145, having traveled about eleven miles. Wewere informed that we were in Corps Reserve,and we waited to cross the Rhine.

Oggersheim, a suburb of Ludwigshaven, theI.G. Farben chemical company manufacturingcenter, was a fair-sized town with only one mod-ern section. We had that section. The men were inhigh spirits for these were the best quarters theyhad ever had in Europe. They banged away atpianos in the 1st and 4th Platoon houses frommorning until night and sang until they werehoarse. They found extra food in the houses andchicken coops so the “cook” of the 1st Platooncooked all hours of the day and night.

We maintained some roadblocks near Lud-wigshaven but our main mission was getting rest.In our six days at Oggersheim, we resupplied thecompany and conducted some training. Thetraining consisted mostly of athletics, however. Itwas good for morale, and enhanced agility.

We spent a day practicing techniques for fight-ing in built-up areas. We used a street of housesfor the work, climbing all over them and throw-ing colored smoke grenades. We were interestedand serious about this training for they told usour job from now on would be, for the most part,fighting in exactly this sort of environment.

Those of us who were among the original mento enter combat with the company were now sea-soned veterans. We had the confidence of experi-ence, but yet felt that we had had enough. Anycombat soldier knows that the odds are againsthim and that the more days one spends on theline, the greater are the odds of calamity.

We hoped that we had seen the hardest part ofthe war and that the rest would merely be a chaseafter the defeated Wehrmacht. After all, we were atthe Rhine. . .

Heilbronn, Germany, 4 April 1945The company mounted tanks, as many as 15

men on each, and left Oggersheim at 0715 on 31March. It was a beautiful day and the men had anexciting time roaring thru town after town.Riding on top of a tank is an experience incompa-rable to any other one. A tank lunges when itstarts or stops. They can turn on a dime and usu-ally do. If you don’t hold on tightly and payattention to what the tank is doing, you don’t stayon very long. The roar of the engine and the clat-ter of the tracks is terrific, and the vibrationbecomes painful after a few hours. The dust isever present.

We rolled through Ludwigshafen with sirensscreaming. The people “fell out” to watch usalthough division after division had passedthrough there to cross the pontoon bridge on theRhine at that point. C.W.S. (Chemical WarfareService) had the entire bridge area smoked toscreen the operation from enemy view. The trafficwas so great over the bridge that you had to havea priority number to cross. Ours were chalked oneach tank. We had been allotted a definite amountof time to cross and the column had to arrive atthe bridge site at a specific hour.

Mannheim was on the other side of the Rhine.This huge city had also been severely bombed. A

great number of the population of bothLudwigshafen and Mannheim still lived in thebig public air-raid shelters because fire and highexplosive bombs had leveled their apartments.

Arriving in Eppelsheim, we took quarters incivilian homes. Five tanks, separated from thecolumn, got as far as Heidelberg, met reconnais-sance elements of the 12th Armored Division, anddecided the column wouldn’t be found in enemyterritory. Men in Company E have frequentlyremarked that Sundays and holidays werealways days of unrest and danger for us. Wecould expect it as surely as we could expect thedawn. Our first attack, near Baccarat, France, wason a Sunday, and with a few exceptions, succes-sive Sundays brought tough attack orders underunfavorable conditions. Some of our bitterestexperiences were encountered on holidays.Remember Thanksgiving, Christmas, and NewYear’s Day?

April 1st was April Fools’ Day and also EasterSunday. It was a holiday, so something wasbound to happen. The Krauts had never let usdown. At 0615, we left Eppelsheim for our LD(line of departure). Here we got into position forthe attack. We cleared the LD, a stream, at 0800,guiding on the autobahn. Moving through anold-growth forest for several hundred yards, withour tanks in support, we crossed the autobahnand went cross country in a direct line toward thetown of Wiesloch. We had hiked nearly 10 miles,without making contact with enemy or enemyartillery, when we reached a large clearing. Therewere about 1,500 yards of completely openground and two obstacles to cross. A railroadembankment, elevated about 10 feet, was thefirst; and a deeply-cut stream the other. Wecrossed the clearing aggressively but uneasily,negotiated the obstacles, and started up the slopetoward a wood.

We had reached a row of trees along a roadwhen the enemy opened up on us with direct fire

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6

Heilbronn Horror

Centurymen barrel into Germany aboard Sherman tanks ofthe 781st Tank Battalion, spring 1945. (SOC) continued on page 38

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From the time of the fall of Bitche on 16 March1945 through the remainder of the 100thInfantry Division’s combat service, it would bemisleading to identify specific large unitswhich fought against the Division. Rather, the100th was opposed by hastily-organized, ad hocamalgams of available units, often lacking sig-nificant armored, mortar, or artillery support.

When the 100th first burst through the linesbeyond Bitche and headed through the Palati-nate toward the Rhine at Mannheim/Ludwigs-hafen, it was opposed by scattered units of the17th SS-Panzer Grenadier Division and byVolkssturm, or local defense, units. It is in theselatter units that the “14-year-old boys and 70-year-old grandfathers” that so many Century-men remember as their quarries during thewar’ s final phase were assigned.

There were sometimes, however, also fanati-cal members of the Hitler Youth in these outfits,and they could make life difficult for both theirfellow Volkssturm members (who might beinclined toward surrender) and attackingCenturymen. The Volkssturm, however, werestrictly last line of defense outfits, members ofwhich were often clad in a sad sack mixture ofGerman Army, Luftwaffe, police, and evenReichswehr (the pre-Nazi era German armedforces) uniforms, and equipped with odd lots of rifles, machine pistols, and, of course, the ubiquitous Panzerfaust anti-tank rocketlauncher.

The last semblance of organized resistancemet by the 100th was at Heilbronn, from 4–12April 1945. Although the German defenderswere truly remnants of regular infantry andother units, the mixed bag of Volks-Grenadiers,SS-Panzer-Grenadiers, infantrymen, and trainingunit troops that were brought together to resistthe Division’s crossings of the Neckar gave agood account of themselves during more than aweek of ferocious fighting in and around thecity.

The following list of German units and relat-ed information was gathered by the late Dr.

Günther Beck of Beilstein from American PWrecords (especially the 100th G-2’s) available inthe US National Archives.

Without doubt, the most well-organized andhighly-motivated defenders of the Heilbronnarea were the elements of SS-Panzer-GrenadierRegiment 38 of the 397th’s old nemesis fromRimling, the 17th SS-Panzer-Grenadier Divi-sion. The better part of two weakened, buthard-fighting battalions of this regimentopposed the 398th Infantry along the Neckar. Infact, they were the same two battalions thatattacked Rimling in early January.

Combat Group (Kampfgruppe) Bodendörfer(built around a remnant of Grenadier Regiment689 of the 246th Volks-Grenadier Division)fought in the city center and industrial quarter,opposing the 3d/398th and the 397th InfantryRegiment. It counted among its ranks soldiersfrom a confusing array of combat and trainingunits. The core unit, Grenadier Regiment 689,was originally activated as an integral part ofthe 337th Infantry Division, which was raisedin November 1940 in Bavaria. After performingoccupation duties in France, it was transferredto the 246th Infantry Division in combat in theSoviet Union in late 1941. After over 2½ years offierce combat there, the 246th was transferredto Germany, reorganized as a Volks-Grenadierdivision and committed in the ferocious fight-ing in the Hürtgen Forest. After being broughtback up to strength with the addition of manyformer Luftwaffe personnel and participation inthe Ardennes Offensive in December, it wascommitted to defensive operations in Germany.

Combat Group Bodendörfer also apparentlyincluded remnants of Grenadier Regiment 223, formerly of the 16th Volks-GrenadierDivision, veterans of fighting in the HighVosges and Colmar Pocket; a company-sizedelement of the 2nd Mountain Division’sMountain Infantry Regiment 136, veterans ofthree years of fighting above the Arctic Circleagainst the Soviets near Petsamo; and part ofthe 553rd Volks-Grenadier Division’s Grenadier

The Enemy, From Bitche to Stuttgart . . .

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Regiment 1121, which had fought in theSaverne Gap in November and counterattackedacross the Rhine during NORDWIND in January.Several of the non-combat units pressed intodefensive service, also evidently under CombatGroup Bodendörfer’s command, included thelocally-stationed Training (Ausbildungs-und-Ersatz) Regiment 525, Flak Regiment 42, andeven Punishment Battalion 292, a penal unit forerrant German soldiers. Several of these unitsdisappeared after the 100th seized the Heil-bronn area, but Combat Group Bodendörfercontinued to exist as an identifiable entity andwithdrew toward Beilstein where it continuedits defensive operations until destroyed.

Combat Group Krebs (built around a rem-nant of the 719th Volks-Grenadier Division)fought primarily around the south ofHeilbronn, near Sontheim and Flein. The 719thwas organized as an infantry division in 1941 inthe Brandenburg region, in and around Berlin.It performed three years of occupation duty inthe Netherlands and coastal defense dutiesalong the North Sea coast. In September of 1944,it fought British and Commonwealth forces inthe Netherlands and Belgium before beingredesignated as a Volks-Grenadier Division andtransferred to the Saar to fight US Third Armyunits.

Combat Group Mockros (principally Grena-dier Regiment 423 of the 212th Volks-GrenadierDivision) also fought in the southern districts ofthe city and its surroundings. Another unitraised in Bavaria, the 212th, had been activatedin early 1939 as an infantry division and tookpart in the invasion of France in 1940. Afterthree years of combat in the Soviet Union, itwas transferred to Germany, quickly refur-bished and reorganized as a Volks-Grenadierdivision, and thrust into the Ardennes as part ofthe massive German offensive there inDecember 1944. Coincidentally, most of thedivision ended the war in its home region ofBavaria after a long series of defenses and with-drawals across much of Germany.

By the end of the fighting in Heilbronn, bothCombat Groups Mockros and Krebs had ceasedto exist as recognizable units, and they wereincorporated in the 559th Volks-GrenadierDivision, known to the 100th from the fighting

in January around Bitche. Elements of the559th, namely the company-sized CombatGroup Maier, also fought in the Heilbronn areaagainst units of the 100th, but further participa-tion by this old foe of the Century Division isunconfirmed. The 559th withdrew towardBacknang and Münsingen, finally surrenderingin those areas in late April.

Even as the 100th settled into occupationduties in the closing days before and just afterthe German unconditional surrender, there wasone last foe with which Centurymen had tocontend. Having viewed the havoc caused bypartisans against the German armed forces inoccupied lands, Heinrich Himmler and his SShad created a network of guerillas intended tohamper Allied and Soviet conquerors if andwhen they set foot on German soil. Called the“Werwolf” movement, these highly-motivatedirregulars were to perform the full gamut ofguerilla tasks, from gathering and communicat-ing intelligence on the enemy, to ambushes, sab-otage, and even intimidation and terror againstGerman “collaborators” who may have lapsedinto cooperation (read “not resisting against”)the Allied and Soviet occupiers of their localregions.

Ultimately, the Werwolf concept did not liveup to Nazi hopes, and lost momentum signifi-cantly after the final German surrender. In fact,many incidents that were attributed to theWerwolf by the Allied side turned out to be sim-ple criminal acts by unconnected individuals.However, terror and crime incidents—especial-ly violence against Allied soldiers, retributionagainst German “collaborators,” and black mar-keteering aimed at raising funds for the move-ment—did continue sporadically all the way to1947.

Overall, however, like the “Alpine Redoubt”in which high-ranking Nazis were supposedlygoing to carry on the war indefinitely, theWerwolf movement was a Nazi pipe dreamwhich a demoralized and thoroughly defeatedGerman population was too exhausted and toopoor to support.�

from an 88mm and a 75mm antitank gun. Theywere located in a little town at the top of the ridgeand so close you could almost hear them feed theshells into the breeches. They opened fire on ourlight tanks from the 781st Tank Battalion that hadscooted to the row of trees and bushes for con-cealment. One tank bogged down in the middleof the field and, being a perfect target, the crewscrambled out as fast as they could. For some rea-son, however, the enemy didn’t fire on that tank.We were sure a couple of their rounds were directhits among the tanks in the row of trees, butfound later that the hits were not direct and onlytore off parts of the tanks. One tank section leaderwas killed, however, while in front of his tank,directing it into a firing position.

Most of Company E was caught in the open ina very vulnerable position. All we could do wastry to run faster than they could traverse theirartillery pieces—which we did. At that moment,they fell back on their old stand-by—the deadlytree bursts. They caught Company F just enteringthe woods, severely wounding a large number ofmen in the headquarters group, including thecompany commander.

Then the enemy turned on us with theirartillery. It seemed as though they couldn’t missbecause we were spread all over the field likeducks in a shooting gallery. Shell after shell fell inour midst and the dispersion of fragments wasterrific.

Most of the men hit the ground every time theyheard the searing screech of a shell coming in atclose range. Before they were down, the shell haddetonated and they were up again running. Upand down, up and down, really running for theirlives, and it was the longest 600 yards any hadever run. Shell fragments tore a walkie-talkieradio out of a runner’s hand; another man wouldlose his helmet every time he hit the mud. Stillanother man crawled on his stomach across thefield in a 12-inch-deep drainage ditch filled withwater. We reached the woods that, of course, didnot afford protection, but at least concealed usfrom direct observation.

The men fell into shallow drainage ditchestrembling with exhaustion. We were all out of for-mation. The company was disorganized so weimmediately checked casualties and reorganized.We found that we had lost contact with the 3rdPlatoon and one squad of the 1st Platoon that

were with the company commander. Shellssmacked in occasionally, but there wasn’t time toduck. The company was split and that was dan-gerous. Then the first sergeant of the company onour left contacted us and said his company com-mander was badly wounded and he couldn’t findan officer. “What should I do?” he asked. We gothim to reorganize his company and told him tofollow us when we moved out. Presently, awicked firefight developed and we knew the 3rdPlatoon had made contact with German infantryand was probably in trouble.

A civilian ran in on our flank. A soldier almostshot him for he waved no white flag of any sort.The enemy fired on his back from high ground onour right flank. He got to us without a scratch andwith a sweep of his arm exclaimed in Polish,“German soldiers all over that high ground.”From what he said and the occasional rifle firefrom that direction, it looked like they were goingto envelop us, so we built up a firing line to watchfor them. We moved some elements of the com-pany forward a few hundred yards closer to thesound of the firefight in which the 3rd Platoonwas engaged. We could see nothing of them,however, through the dense underbrush. A partywas sent forward to contact them and learn thesituation. It would have been foolish to blindlycommit the rest of the company in the same fire-fight if we could use them to maneuver aroundthe German positions. Artillery began screamingoverhead. It came from the direction of ourartillery, was falling ahead of us, and had thenoise of our 105s, but it barely skimmed the tree-tops and was uncomfortably close.

In the meantime, we had established radio con-tact with the company commander. He said ourartillery was playing hell with the squareheadsand that he had sent a runner back to guide usinto position. By the time we reached the 3rdPlatoon, the enemy had fled. We learned that ourartillery observer had directed some daring mis-sions; he had had the gunners drop some of therounds within 50 yards of our troops’ positions,but that had done the trick and scared off theenemy. We occupied the high ground that theGermans had located, and from it, we could lookdown into the town of Wiesloch. There were sev-eral homes on the peak of the ridge from the atticsof which we planned our attack of Wiesloch.Through our field glasses, we could see theKrauts scrambling half way up the slope of the

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continued from page 35

ridge, beyond the far side of town. There was alsoactivity in the trees at the crest of the ridge. Itlooked very much like they were going to leavethe town for us. Our artillery observer radioed forconcentrations and plastered the ridge. They useda lot of white phosphorous. Jerry threw someshells our way, but they struck behind us.

The right half of town, as we looked at it, wasour responsibility for clearing. It was a big townand there was a lot of work ahead of us. The areawas divided into four parts and each platoon hadits zone to clear. By dusk, all platoons had report-ed “all clear” and established strong pointsaround the perimeter of our end of town. Thetown was taken with but one casualty to Com-pany E. We picked up about ten prisoners, most-ly walking wounded. Battalion said we couldexpect hot chow to get up to us, so we settleddown, worn out and hungry, to await it. Beforevery long, orders came from battalion that theywere consolidating the battalion into the center oftown. Leaving our newly-occupied quarters, wemoved into the area designated by battalion,“harassing” more civilians to quarter the compa-ny. Chow arrived just as we got to our new quar-ters. The supply sergeant had come along andbrought up sleeping bags for the men.

Wiesloch was a hospital town with severallarge hospitals and thousands of Wehrmacht casu-alties. One hospital had four Yank prisoners whowere liberated when our battalion took the town.They had been working in the hospital. Theirstory was the same as was all of our soldiers’. Thecloser the American army came, the better thetreatment they had received from the Germans.

The next morning, we guarded one of the larg-er hospitals. No one was allowed out and only

doctors and nurses were allowed in. It was veryevident that there were hundreds of German sol-diers limping around there with nothing morewrong with them than an unrelenting fear of theUnited States Army. The head surgeon was furi-ous with us because we wouldn’t let him gohome. He was brazenly intoxicated and his noseindicated he had been in that condition a longtime. He was much quieter after we shoved himagainst the wall and barked at him. Later heturned his rage on his staff with all the dramaticsof a cheap movie. He was a little Göring, from hispompous attitude to his ostentatious uniform.

That afternoon, we left Wiesloch for Sinsheim.The battalion marched about 10 miles along ahighway with tanks dispersed in the column. Wedrew close enough to see Sinsheim and tookcover on both sides of the road. Elements of theDivision Cavalry Recon Troop contacted us andsaid as far as they could see the town was clear ofenemy. We waited while this was confirmed. Aswe were waiting, enemy artillery shelled us. Theylobbed rounds in, up, and down our long columnfrom a great range. Because of the range, ourtanks were unable to locate the German artilleryand deliver counter-battery fires.

Although the Germans’ fire wasn’t concentrat-ed, they did demolish a jeep in the battalion andwounded a man near it. They harassed us all theway as we rushed into the outskirts of Sinsheimand took cover in the first few buildings weencountered.

Our quartering party found a newer section oftown and evicted the tenants. By the time theCompany was ready to move to their quarters forthe night, the shelling had ceased and it wasalmost dark.

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An M-18 “Hellcat” tankdestroyer of the 824th TDBattalion blasts German posi-tions in support of the2d/397th’s advance nearWiesloch, April 1945. (SOC)

The modern, luxurious homes in Sinsheimwere comfortable. The next morning, when wehadn’t gotten orders to move by 0800, we startedsome wishful thinking. By 1000, it seemed that wesurely would not move that day. Shortly there-after, however, attack orders came and by 1100,we were on the march with medium and lighttanks and a few tank destroyers from the 824thTank Destroyer Battalion. Our mission was toattack and clear the town of Hilbach south ofSinsheim. We passed through several small farmtowns en route to our objective. The only obsta-cles were blown-out bridges; a minefield laidacross the road that was detected and removed;and a sniper. The sniper shot at our backs just aswe passed a small village, the people of whichhad waved at us as we passed. It was not unusu-al to be “shot in the back” after passing through acheering, waving village. This sniper didn’t hitanyone and an officer grabbed a BAR and emp-tied a magazine in the sniper’s direction.

The clearing of Dubach was uneventful. Wesystematically searched all buildings in the por-tion of town assigned to us. We took some pris-oners. One was caught discarding his uniformand donning the garb of a farmer. Having com-pleted clearing the town, we sat down to eat andrest while we awaited further orders. The townbaker gave bread to the GIs and civilians passedaround Most to those thirsty enough to drink it.Most is an apple cider-wine type of drink, usedprincipally by the urbans, with practically noalcoholic content, and a flavor resembling stag-nant horse urine (or what we imagined it wouldbe). By our orders, the natives brought cameras,firearms, ammunition, and knives to our CP.

Our orders arrived within an hour. We were tobacktrack to a point where there was an east-westroad and then follow this road, in Battalion col-umn, heading east. This was the beginning ofanother long record-breaking road march. Wepassed through town after town not bothering toclear them, since we met no resistance. The onlybreaks we got were on the occasions that we wereheld up by a roadblock. Hour after hour, wemarched forward. By nightfall, as we wouldapproach a town, the doughfeet would ask, “Isthis the town?” But on and on we marched, onefoot in front of the other in a stupid procession.As each hour passed, it seemed that they couldn’tkeep us going another hour. In the darkness,some men became too exhausted to march and

the tanks would stop while they climbed on for aride. Our sweat from the heat of the day chilledus in the cold of night and, to add the ultimate toour misery, it began to rain. We had been march-ing since 1100, on our feet 14 hours for it was now0100 and we were on the outskirts of a towncalled Furfeld. The column halted and quarteringparties were called forward.

The troops were terribly exhausted and wetand anxious for a place to lie down, so the quar-tering party had to do a fast job. They did!Civilians were awakened from their deep slum-bers to see American soldiers, dripping wet, withhaggard faces, ordering them to go sleep withtheir friends, that American troops were occupy-ing their house. Some people in typical Germanobstinacy tried to argue, but most of them, read-ing the urgency in our soldiers’ faces, hurriedlydressed and vanished in the night. One old Kraut,probably with a guilty conscience, started downthe street in his nightgown, barefooted, dragginghis wife behind him. A soldier realized that hehad been drinking and made him return and gethis clothes. One prolific young lady fell her squadof infant Aryans onto the streets crying that shewelcomed soldiers in her home, but that we werevery inconsiderate. Apparently, the Wehrmachthad slept in the same house with her, but theAmericans wouldn’t.

Usually the platoon leaders decided whetherthe men were to sleep with their boots on. Thatwas the big question every time we slept and tookcareful consideration. The situation was thought-fully weighed and when the men slept with theirboots, the situation was grave. This night, how-ever, there were no questions asked. Boots weretaken off to care for bloody, blistered feet and torest throbbing arches. We had marched 20 milesthrough hilly country.

The men made beds where they had dropped,exhausted, in their houses. It was generally feltthat after such a grueling day and night the com-mand would not move the next day. We werethere fore disbelieving when, early the nextmorning, we were alerted and told to be ready tomake a motor march by 0800, after a hot breakfastbrought up by our cook.

On 4 April 1945, Company E, entering its 154thday of combat operations with five officers and147 enlisted men, advanced to the west bank ofthe Neckar River opposite the heavily fortifiedcity of Heilbronn. The Company was assigned the

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mission of spearheading the 2nd Battalion’sattack on the city by first clearing the factory dis-trict to enable the remaining companies to attackinto the city center. With very little prior artillerypreparation, the Company jumped off at 1430,paddling in small assault boats across the swiftlyflowing Neckar River under observation anddirect fire by rockets, artillery, and mortars from adominating ridge northeast of the city. Leadingthe Company’s attack, the 2nd Platoon, despitemurderous crossfire from automatic weaponsand heavy mortar fire, overran the enemy dug inalong the east bank, taking sixty prisoners andinflicting heavy casualties upon the enemy.

The Company then advanced over openground to the factories lying two hundred yardsto their front, but well situated automaticweapons closed all avenues of approach to thebuildings, their fire being so heavy that theCompany was pinned down and unable to gaincover or concealment. The enemy continued theirdevastating fire, inflicting heavy casualties uponCompany E. The 2nd Platoon platoon leaderfinally reached one factory with a squad of men.There he started to adjust 81mm mortar fire onthe hostile automatic weapon position. Theenemy emplacement was so close to his own thatseveral rounds were direct hits on his building.Unhesitatingly, he continued to fire on the enemyposition, getting a direct hit. Still the remainder ofthe Company could not move without extremecasualties. The situation was desperate and it wasdecided to move the 1st Platoon of the Companyaround the right flank of the 2nd Platoon underthe cover of dusk and assault the heavily fortifiedfactory from which they were receiving fire.

Achieving complete tactical surprise, and withgreat daring of movement, the 1st Platoon pene-trated enemy positions, gained control of thebuilding and provided covering fire for theremaining platoons as they struck at another fac-tory. Company “E” then received the order topush on and take the remaining buildings eventhough darkness was at hand and it was difficultto differentiate between friend from foe. At 0300on 5 April 1945, the enemy mustered every avail-able man and weapon and struck at the 1stPlatoon positions, employing infantry in superiornumbers estimated to be battalion strength.Under cover of heavy and accurate artillery fire,the Germans fought viciously and stubbornly inan effort to seize the positions. They killed the 1st

Platoon platoon leader during this assault andwounded many with grenades and panzerfausts.

Failing to take the position by physical forceafter three separate assaults, the enemy set fire tothe buildings by using panzerfausts in numbersnever encountered before. After this volley ofantitank rockets, 34 Germans turned to assaultthe remaining platoon positions. Under the lead-ership of the Weapons Platoon Sergeant, the 1stPlatoon, with one attached light machine gunsquad, fought their way back into friendly posi-tions. Although many men were wounded andinjured by enemy fire and the burning building,the fighting courage of the men from the 1stPlatoon could not be denied. Some, althoughwounded, carried, dragged and encouraged oneanother back to safety, bringing their weaponswith them. What was left of the machine gunsquad dragged their .30-caliber back with them,too.

Along with their platoon leader, several mem-bers of the 3rd Platoon were cut off by this attack.They had infiltrated to a position on the secondfloor of an adjoining building where they couldobserve the Germans assembling for a flankingattack on the Second and 3rd Platoons. Theykilled and wounded a score of the enemy by acoordinated surprise volley of automatic fire anda barrage of hand grenades. The enemy soonreorganized and attacked our handful of men bythrowing hand grenades through the windowsand shooting through the wooden floor on whichthey were standing. However, by crawling 75yards on hands and knees over one iron catwalkbetween two factories, this small group managedto get back to positions occupied by the remain-der of the platoon.

Although having observed the fate of the 1stPlatoon, the 2nd and 3rd Platoons, along withmachine gunners and mortar men acting as rifle-men, grimly held their ground until support wasbrought by another company. The buildings theywere holding were burning and direct hits fromrockets and large artillery shells were landingevery few seconds, but they still clung tenacious-ly to their hard won gains.

At 0700, 5 April 1945, Company E, despite ashortage of ammunition, no food, rapidly mount-ing casualties, and determined enemy pressure,attacked again and forced the enemy to with-draw, and the remnants of the company held the positions against repeated counterattacks.

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Company E had weakened the defenses of theenemy to such an extent that the battalion’s objec-tive was attacked successfully with the remainingcompanies. During these two days’ actions,Company E suffered 42 casualties, which includ-ed nine killed, 29 wounded, and four missing inaction. Enemy casualties including an estimated400 dead or wounded and 150 captured, pluslosses of 200 rifles and automatic weapons, 150

panzerfausts, 100 miscellaneous pieces of ord-nance and munitions, and large quantities of rifleammunition. The fighting aggressiveness, intre-pidity in battle and devotion to duty displayed bythe officers and men of Company E, 397thInfantry, reflect the highest honor on the Army ofthe United States. The 2nd Battalion received thePresidential Unit Citation for its capture ofHeilbronn.

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On April 4, 1945 Company E, 397th was on theroad to Neckargartach with the mission to clearthe area on our way to the Neckar River. Thatmorning a big ball of dust came rolling towardour rear. It was Captain MacAlister, our battalionS-3 (Operations Officer), driving madly in a jeep.He was in a hurry to get me to General Burressfor a meeting. I turned the company over to myExecutive Officer, Lieutenant Craig Davison, andclimbed into the jeep for the ride to Neckar-gartach. It was then that MacAlister told me thatthe town had been taken by elements of the 10thArmored Division and was secure.

In the middle of the town, we met MajorGeneral Burress, members of his staff, and the CGof the 10th Armored Division, Major GeneralWilliam H. H. Morris. Pointing at Heilbronn onthe wall map, and with tension evident in hisvoice, General Burress told me of the situationthat was generating Company E’s mission. The3rd Battalion, 398th Infantry had crossed theNeckar River near Neckargartach, established abeachhead, but had been counterattacked by larg-er German forces and extremely accurate artillery.In fact, they were facing our old adversaries fromRimling, elements of the 17th SS-Panzer-Grenadier Division. Unless supported quickly,they would be wiped out.

My mission was to assemble the companyquickly, cross the river, and attack the glass facto-ry area on the 3rd/398th’s right flank. This was tobe done with no artillery or mortar support. I wasassured the remainder of the battalion wasenroute to support us. I then asked the 10thArmored Division’s CG for a platoon of tanks toremain in Neckargartach and support us fromthere with their heavy firepower. He quicklyanswered “No.” He insisted that enemy artillerywas too hot in that area. He had tried to put abridge across the river and it had been blown out.His division was headed north to explore otherpotential crossings. General Burress closed themeeting by wishing us luck and promising somekind of support as soon as possible. It was abright, sunny day. Almost every movement drew

more German artillery fire. Nonetheless, I gotMacAlister to drive me to the tallest house nearthe river. From the third floor of the house wecould see the general location of the 3rd/398th,the power station and the glass factory area. Thecompany hadn’t arrived yet, so we went on tocontact the 325th Engineers. With them wearranged for small rubber assault boats mannedby engineers. We specified the location of theboats, routes to them, and our objective whichwas the powerhouse on the other side. It wasselected because it was tall and wide and wouldgive us the most protection even though theGermans could observe us at the boat loadingarea.

As soon as the company arrived, the men con-sumed their K rations. We were down to about150 men and five officers (from the authorizedstrength of 187 and 6). The 60mm mortars wereleft behind for our supply sergeant to pick up.Their weight was too much for the boats andthere wasn’t enough room. The mortar menreplaced their mortars and mortar ammo withrifles plus extra machine gun and rifle ammo.

Without prior training, the company was goingto make a hazardous river crossing in heavilyladen rubber boats under artillery and small armsfire. Soon, the 325th Engineers were at hand andready with boats and had a smoke generatorfunctioning. We started loading boats at 1400hours on 4 April. The 2nd Platoon led, followedby my command group—first sergeant, runner,and radio operator. Next the 1st, 3rd, and 4thPlatoons crossed, in that order. The machine gunsections crossed with the 1st and 2nd Platoons sothat their firepower would be available whenestablishing the beachhead.

We had our first break—we crossed the omi-nous Neckar in very short order, without loss ofpersonnel or equipment. As soon as the 2ndPlatoon hit the west bank, they initiated theirassault to the right of a coal pile, crossing an openyard toward the glass factory. The 1st Platoonattacked across open ground toward a house,probably the plant superintendent’s. It was

43

Objective Heilbronn

by William J. Law

located outside the factory compound of thepower plant. They reached the house but couldnot move beyond it because of artillery and auto-matic small arms fire. The terrain was wide openand flat, extending back to hills that dominatedthe area. The hills afforded the Germans excellentobservation into our area of operations.

After moving 300 yards from the bank of theriver, the 2nd Platoon was pinned down by auto-matic fire from three directions.

In the meantime we had the mortar section,serving as riflemen, dig in just beyond and to theright of the coal pile. They would help hold abeachhead area for support troops when theyarrived. We were pinned down on flat groundand suffering casualties. We were in trouble andneeded artillery support. We didn’t get it.

I had positioned our company CP group in theright rear corner of the powerhouse. It was full ofpeople—two CPs from the 3rd/398th Infantryand their observer teams, plus a temporary aidstation and a holding area for wounded. The 2ndplatoon was still pinned down and unable tomove forward. I ordered the 3rd Platoon to attackto the right of the 2nd to provide more firepower.Both platoons then moved forward, reaching thesupply shed of the glass factory. This was a betterposition, but we still sustained some casualties.

The 1st Platoon, in the superintendent’s house,couldn’t move forward and the house was of lit-tle tactical use. I moved the platoon back to aposition near the coal pile and power station. Onthe way back, they sustained artillery fire. Severalwere wounded. First Lieutenant Pete Petraccopicked up one wounded man and carried himback to cover. In doing so he exposed himself toadditional fire. He later received the Silver Starfor this, which was also the first one awarded forvalor in this action. Ultimately, he was the onlyman in the entire 397th Infantry to earn two SilverStars (the other was awarded for his actions atRimling).

Both the 2nd and 3rd Platoons were takingcasualties every time they moved, mostly fromthe open plant yard area on the right. I sent the 1stPlatoon to attack on the right to eliminate thisflanking fire. They captured the administrator ofthe glass factory, and that eliminated the flankingfire for the time being. The mortar section main-tained the “hold line” for the beachhead.

It was becoming dusk. German artillery andmortar fire never stopped falling on us. The

Battalion wire group was not sent to us, so wecould not communicate with the three platoonsby phone. I had lost radio contact with both the2nd and 3rd Platoons, so I didn’t know how farinto the glassworks they had gotten. In despera-tion, I sent a runner to each and neither onereturned.

As dusk turned to darkness, I heard from bat-talion. They said Company F was on its way tosupport us. By now, it had been four hours sincewe had crossed the river. I knew where the 1stPlatoon was and decided to go there. I took myradioman with me. He didn’t take his radio withhim because the weight slowed him down.Crossing the open ground of the glass factoryyard, running full speed, we reached the cover ofa small shed. It was a little more than half the dis-tance to the office building. As soon as we caughtour breath, we began our run for the sideentrance of the administration building. As wewere running we could see men in open windowson the second floor. It was Lieutenant Petraccoand several others who had come to the windowsto cover us from fire on the right. That’s when allhell broke loose.

The withering fire was coming from a house onthe right at the edge of the yard. They let go withan incredible number of grenades in our direc-tion. Although intended for us, the grenades hitthe side of the office building and others wentthrough the open windows. We heard calls formedics as we entered the door. We reached thesecond floor by taking steps two at a time. Theroom was dark. Walls were crumbled by thegrenades. The dust was so heavy that it was diffi-cult to breathe. We used a flashlight cautiously.There were wounded men, blinded by debris andmen disoriented by the concussion intensified bya small room.

I found Pete Petracco. He lay mortally wound-ed. Pete died in my arms and his men fell silent.They knew from my anguish he was dead.

As the senior noncoms present were woundedor blind, I asked a junior noncom to take over theplatoon. It was important to hold this positionwith what was left of the 1st Platoon. My runnerand I returned, under cover of darkness, to ourCP in the power station. There we learned thatthere was still no word from the 2nd and 3rdPlatoons. There was also no word from battalionHQ. We found a forward observer from theCompany H mortar platoon who called in fire on

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45

the house and row of buildings from which thegrenades had come. We could not use him to hitany other areas because we did not know wherethe two lost platoons were.

I thought about the junior noncom I temporar-ily put in charge of the 1st Platoon. They neededa strong leader, so I sent Technical Sergeant TomConvery, the 4th (Weapons) Platoon platoonleader, up to the 1st Platoon with my runner,Private First Class Bert Schleisman. I told Tom toreorganize the platoon, set up a defensive posi-tion, and to hold the administration building atall costs. I knew if we lost it, the Germans couldoutflank our position and drive us into the river.Between 2200 and midnight, Company F arrived.Because it was so dark they took a position in thefirst shelter of the glass factory yard. There theyprepared to attack in the early morning.

The Germans counterattacked at about 0300 on5 April, focusing their attention on the adminis-tration building. They fired automatic weapons,and panzerfausts, and used plenty of grenades,both fragmentation and incendiary. This set thebuilding on fire.

The building was soon an inferno. SergeantConvery told his men to abandon the building,and that and each man was to get back across theopen yard to our final defense line, held by the4th Platoon. In the process, a number werewounded, burned or temporarily blinded. Mostreached our final defensive position and wereevacuated back across the river as soon as boatswere obtained. Sergeant Convery was seriouslywounded, as were others. He stopped the littercarriers at the CP to apologize to me for not hold-ing the building. It was not necessary. He haddone all he could. Then he said he had to leavefive dead soldiers in that burning building. Much

later we found out that one of those soldiers,Private First Class Victor H. Nash, found his wayinto a subbasement where he survived theartillery and fire and came out two days laterwhen the action advanced past the area.

We soon had the support of our artillery andheavy mortars. With what remained of CompanyE, we forced the Germans to suspend theirattacks. Not long afterward, Company F passedthrough Company E to continue the attack.Companies G and H then crossed the Neckar tosupport the 2nd Battalion’s attack. In its devastat-ed condition, Company E was unable to continueoffensive operations. Not knowing what had hap-pened to the two platoons, it appeared that wehad lost three officers and fifty-four men sincecrossing the river.

As Company F continued its slow, building tobuilding advance in the industrial compound,they picked up parts of our Company’s 2nd and3rd Platoons. This group was returned to the CPwhich was now located in the glass factory. Thetwo lieutenants were OK, as were most of themen in both platoons. I asked the officers howthey got out of contact with the CP. They saidthey were in a vulnerable position and did notwant to risk detection by using their radios.

Our corrected count of soldiers present forduty was thus four officers and fewer than a hun-dred men. We were very tired and very hungry.None of us had eaten since noon on April 4th. Wewere ready to go back across the river and revertto battalion reserve.

We started the reorganization of the company,changing assignments, appointing new squadand platoon noncoms, and assimilating replace-ments. We were now in a position to renew oursupport of the block by block attack on the city.

The rubble-strewn streets ofHeilbronn provided excellent coverand concealment for the Germandefenders. Here, Centurymenadvance under fire in the Division’slast major battle of the war. (SOC)

46

All of the Division’s infantry units had crossedthe Neckar River. Company E was given the mis-sion of clearing pockets of resistance includingthe fortified high ground that 3rd/398th hadfailed to eliminate. We met strong resistance, butnow we had heavy mortar and artillery to pin theenemy down. By dusk we had taken the highground. It was a German observation post thathad given all of us a hard time before and duringthe battle for the city. We finally silenced ournemesis.

* * *

The five men who lost their lives in the adminis-tration building of the glass factory wereLieutenant Peter F. Petracco, Sergeant Earl H.Leland, Technician 5th Grade Olan Dabbs, andPrivates First Class Harold E. Miller and WilliamA. Brenahan. They were cremated in the fire ofthe burning building. All that was found weretheir dog tags. Their remains were buried initial-ly in a common grave in France. Later they weremoved to Arlington National Cemetery. I havevisited them there many times. Along with therest of the 2nd Battalion, the soldiers of CompanyE received a unit Presidential Citation for out-standing accomplishments, plus Silver Stars forLieutenant Petracco, Technical Sergeant Convery

and Lieutenant Knighton in addition to numer-ous Bronze Stars and Purple Hearts.

Observers of the initial struggle for Heilbronnhave said that more awards were earned thanawarded. Comments have also been made thatcasualties would have been lower if artillery hadbeen available.

Bill LawWhen asked what the most memorable experi-ence of his life was, Bill Law said “Heilbronn.” Hethen provided a picture perfect account frommemory of what happened on Wednesday andThursday, 4 and 5 April, 1945. At that time heagreed to also provide a written account and didso on January 26, 1993. William J. Law is theauthor of “Objective Heilbronn.”

Bill Law was the Commanding Officer ofCompany E, the outfit that led the attack onHeilbronn. He was a First Lieutenant promotedto Captain after the battle.

He is now a retired major living comfortably inGreensboro, North Carolina with his wife. Hekeeps in touch with WWII comrades and partici-pates in various military and veterans’ groupfunctions, including extensive support of the100th Infantry Division Association.

The Distinguished Unit Citation for the 2nd Battalion, 397th Infantry Regiment

authorized by War Department General Order 101-46 The 2d Battalion, 397th Infantry Regiment, is cited for outstanding accomplishment in combat duringthe period 4 to 12 April 1945, at Heilbronn, Germany. On 4 April the 2d Battalion launched its frontalassault against Heilbronn, key German rail center and defensive bastion of the Neckar River line.Ferrying assault forces across the Neckar under intense concentrations of artillery and mortar shellingas well as small-arms fire, advance elements overran entrenched enemy positions on the east bank,inflicted heavy casualties, and established a precarious bridgehead. For 7 consecutive days, the 2dBattalion then fought its way forward street-by-street, house-by-house, and even room-by-room, over-coming fanatical enemy resistance and repulsing counterattack after counterattack as the enemystruggled desperately to hold Heilbronn at all costs. Enemy artillery fire on dominating hills sur-rounding the city pounded the river crossing site with unabated savagery, preventing the bridging ofthe stream and making it necessary to ferry supplies and casualties across the Neckar throughout thebattle. Attempts to float armor across the river failed when improvised rafts capsized, and lackingtank support, the 2d Battalion doggedly inched its way forward until, on 11 April, final remnants ofthe defending forces were routed from high ground behind the city. Thus the 2d Battalion, 397thInfantry Regiment, by dint of resolute, unfaltering courage displayed by every man and the perfectcoordination of all elements, crushed fanatical enemy resistance, breached the formidable Neckardefense line, and made possible the present drive. into Austria.. (General Orders 260, Headquarters100th Infantry Division, 29 September 1945.)

They walk through the woods at a wary but fastpace. They did not intend to lose the two soldierswho were leading them along a nearly invisibletrail. They were quiet and absorbed in thought.They knew they were headed into a horrific bat-tle, and that their destination was Company E.Their combat gear was new and clean. Theylooked young. They heard the sound of thunderin the distance. It was artillery shells detonat-ing—theirs and ours.

The 65 replacement soldiers entered Heil-bronn. The buildings had been pulverized bymortar and artillery fire. There was the stench ofburned buildings and worse, and choking smokereaching high into the sky. They followed overdebris, under it, and around it in the factory areaof the city. They reached the partially standingwalls of a factory building. A piece of roofremained for cover. This, they were told, was theCompany E command post. It was too small toenter. They were very uncomfortable standingoutside hearing small arms fire and the artilleryshells exploding near enough to shake the earthunder their feet. Their CO, Captain Bill Law,introduced himself and then his executive officer,Lieutenant Craig Davison. The faces of both offi-cers showed the strain of several days and nightsof intensive combat and the pain of seeing theirmen wounded and killed. The replacements weretaken to there platoon leaders. For them it was atime of terror and confusion: the time for theirbaptism of fire and the unknown that follows.

It was called “Observation Hill.” From itsheight, the German artillery spotters had hadalmost unrestricted fields of observation acrossthe Neckar River Valley and the city of Heilbronn.Company E led the 2nd Battalion out ofHeilbronn, leaving the First and Third Battalionsto secure the city. Our objective was to seizeObservation Hill. Our attack formation was the2nd and 3rd Platoons in the lead, with the 1st and4th and platoons following.

We began moving across 1000 yards of openground. The company was immediately pinneddown by artillery and mortar fire. This was thebaptism of fire for the 65 replacements. Theybecame temporarily immobile. Experienced menadvanced to get out of the beaten zone, but thegreen replacements did the natural thing andfroze where they were. Captain Law and theother company leaders pleaded, urged andkicked them to get the new men advancing. Theyhad to move off the open field to the slope of thehillside. They were less likely to be hit there.

Eventually we scaled the high ground in theface of harassing fire from automatic weapons.Near the hilltop there was silence. By that timethe Germans had moved away. The companyoccupied the high ground at the edge of a dense-ly wooded ridge, and established a defensiveperimeter. The Company dug in in anticipation ofthe expected German counterattack. It was 1500hours.

The CO turned command of the company overto his Executive Officer and went with his runner,Bert Schliesman, to confer with Major Wisdom,the Battalion Commander. Battalion headquarterswas located on a lower part of the lee of the hill.It was dark before they could return. They dug afoxhole and returned to the company position atdawn.

Captain Law told his officers our mission wasto proceed toward Bad Canstatt at 0700. We wentthrough miles of vineyards. Later we learned thatthere were over a 1,000 acres of vineyards in theregion. We could see the 1st Battalion moving outof Heilbronn on our right and attacking in thesame direction. We encountered intermittent har-rassing fire. We had firefights in two small towns.From that point on, although we remained inattack formation, and we weren’t fired upon. Themarch from Heilbronn to Bad Canstatt was about30 miles. We were surprised that the Wehrmachthad not adequately defended these towns.

47

Military Government Occupation Germany

by Major William Law, Army

Captain Craig Davison, Army

The next morning, Captain Law asked Lieu-tenant Davison how he would like to manage BadCanstatt. Normally, military government was theresponsibility of specially trained civil affairs per-sonnel. This was a sudden change from fightingskills to the administration of a city.

When the Wehrmacht left Bad Cannstadt, con-fused citizens returned to farms, stores andhomes. With no training in military governmentwe established a priority of tasks to be accom-plished and began carrying them out. Havingstudied German, Lieutenant Davison could com-municate with townspeople in a passable fashion.The first thing he did was to locate the formerBürgermeister (mayor) and put him back in hisRathaus (town hall). He knew how to run his cityand we could then just supervise and enforce therules. The Bürgermeister set up a dusk-to-dawncurfew. That included Germans and French andAmerican personnel in the area. We started 24-hour jeep-mounted patrols of four soldiers withrifles and carbines ready for any emergency. Ourmen cleaned up and washed their jeeps to presentthe sharpest appearance possible, the Germanpopulace would undoubtedly be judging us, andwe wanted to instill respect, as well as fear.

For a while, people broke curfew and therewere other disturbance,s but soon there were fewproblems to report. We commandeered Germanvehicles so that the mayor could handle the dis-tribution of food and garbage. We helped themrebuild their communication system and otherpublic service utilities. Our behavior earned theirappreciation and respect. They knew of thedeeply seated hatred of the French and of theRussian propensity for brutality. At first theywere cautiously fearful of us, but before long theywere friendly and anxious to please us.

Captain Law and Sergeant Charles Martinottivisited the German commanding officer of a hos-pital in Bad Canstatt. They went there to makesure the commander understood the rules of thearea and specifically that nobody was to leave thehospital without clearing it with our CO. TwoGerman enlisted men were waiting in the hallleading to the commander’s office. One was miss-ing an arm, while the other was missing a foot.They stood at attention and saluted Captain Lawas he passed; he returned their military greetings.Through the German Youth and Hitler Youth sys-tems, Germans had been trained since boyhoodto show respect for officers. They may also havebeen showing respect for a conqueror.

We had problems with French military unitsthat were coming into Bad Canstatt fromStuttgart. It had originally been the 397th’s mis-sion to seize Stuttgart, but for political reasons,General Eisenhower allowed elements of the FirstFrench Army take the city and occupy it.

Frequently, the hospital CO would alert us tothe location of an SS man who had returnedhome. We took them into custody and sent themto the proper authorities for trial. When theGermans realized the SS men were being put ontrial for their crimes they began to inform aboutthem. They were despised and feared by the peo-ple. Their power was so absolute they couldimprison, torture and murder. They were incharge of intelligence, central security, policefunctions, and racial affairs, including the exter-mination of undesirables.

We left Bad Cannstadt in the hands of militarygovernment and road marched southeast as fastas we could in attack formation. We passedthrough Esslingen, Göppingen and Geislingen.We covered 60 miles without conflict and reachedUlm in three days.

On the walk to Ulm our senses were adjusted.The sights of war were gradually eradicated andthe beauty of the countryside and the smells ofbudding spring emerged. We came back to reali-ty at last. The tip of a church spire could be seenabove the skyline. The spire gradually rose as wemarched foreword. Finally, we could see thechurch and the town surrounding it. We saw Ulmin the distance. Company headquarters was setup in the center of the city. We cleared the city ofGerman soldiers then looked for the mayor. Wefound an intelligent and well-informed person.He knew the people to contact to build an organ-

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Centurymen advancing through southern Germany, April1945 (SOC)

ization and get the city functioning. He put thecurfew into effect for us and was quick to get milkand vegetables to the citizenry. After two days inoffice, we learned he was a Communist.

The catholic Bishop spoke to Captain Lawabout the mayor’s political persuasion and wasadamant about having him replaced. Law repliedthat the bishop should find someone who can runthe city for us. The Bishop phoned two days latersaying the people he had in mind refused to takethe mayor’s job. The Communist did a good jobrunning the city so we kept him in office. Themilitary government people could solve thisdilemma when they took over. We had otherproblems at the moment.

The most formidable challenges were causedby the situations of laborers from central andeastern Europe, including Poland, Yugoslavia,Lithuania, Rumania, Czechoslovakia, Hungaryand Estonia. They had been brought to Germanyto support the German war effort, sometimes asvolunteers, but usually as forced labor. They livedin camps provided by the German Army. Whenthe Germans left Ulm, they abandoned theselaborers and they became, in official parlance,DPs (displaced persons). While many wantednothing more than to return home, many otherswere reluctant to go, as the Red Army was nowoccupying their countries. Those who had will-ingly cooperated with the Germans—and thosewho might be falsely accused of such comport-ment—were truly “up the creek.”

We found them starving and in poor health.They were without means of obtaining food. Wefound food for them and gave them some of ourrations, but we didn’t have the means to provideas much as they needed. They were frequentlyviolent, attacking German civilians, perhaps inretaliation for past abuses. They stole and didn’thave much regard for curfew regulations. Theywere difficult to control because they didn’t seemto understand German and were absolutelyunable to comprehend English.

One DP camp was close to a large cheese facto-ry where they worked. They constantly raidedthe factory for the cheese. When we first heard ofa raid we put a guard on the factory. We evictedunauthorized people from the factory. They resis-ted. We used force and some DPs were injured,but none seriously. They had to obey the rules forcitizens, but we were very sympathetic towardtheir condition.

The beautiful blue Danube flows southeastthrough Ulm. Many buildings in the old townwere destroyed, but many remained. The formerbeauty of the city of 92,000 could be envisioned inthe undamaged buildings surrounded by the citywalls with their gates and towers.

Ulm possesses one of the most beautiful cathe-drals in Germany, a fourteenth-century structurewhose 528-foot tower is the highest church towerin the world. Inside the cathedral are wonderful-ly carved choir stalls. It took an accurate, consid-erate bombardier to spare that religious master-piece. The mayor wanted us to know that Ulmwas the birthplace of Albert Einstein. He alsowanted us to know that at nearby Giengen thereis a bust of President Theodore Roosevelt. The cit-izens placed it there because that is where theoriginal Teddy Bear was made and named afterhim. The big news at that time was that theRussians were advancing rapidly on Berlin. Wehad a selfish but normal view about that news.The more they sacrificed, the less we had to.

A military government outfit moved into Ulmand we moved out. Our next move was backnorth-northwest about 30 miles to Göppingen. Itwas a beautiful spring day in May. As wemarched, we could see people playing on thebanks of the Danube. The Division was placed incorps reserve when we occupied Göppingen.From early November 1944 when we took overBaccarat, France from the 45th Division, exceptfor what literally amounted to a few hours spentin reserve, we were in constant contact with theenemy without one day of relief up to the time wemoved into Göppingen. That was almost six fullmonths of action. Through it all, the backbone ofour company were those men who had been withthe outfit at Fort Bragg, who lasted through thewar, and were often those who had been wound-ed and returned. Those combat E-men, and thereplacements who joined us before Heilbronnand fought with us through that last major battlehave a bond closer than brothers.

We found an Olympic-size swimming com-pound with a pool, bathhouses, tables, chairs andumbrellas. The Germans who ran the place toldus that some Olympic events had been held therein 1936. Wearing swim trunks pool side, theartillery tattoos were noticeable on the exposedbodies of some of the men. A shrapnel scarappears jagged on the skin and is often large. Wemade a commercial building into an enlisted

49

men’s recreation area and furnished it. The mencalled it the “Copcabaña East” after a thenfamous New York City nightclub. We set up base-ball diamonds and played a lot of baseball andfootball, much to the entertainment of a lot ofGerman spectators. There was not much militaryactivity.

We patrolled the area and kept a 24-hour guardon our housing complex. We had forced some res-idents out of their houses which sometimescaused hard feelings and thus a possible problem.We allowed the owners into their houses onehour on one day each week. Women asked toclean our laundry. They did not want their cur-rency (marks) but rather chocolate, cigarettes,sugar and canned food.

Göppingen had been the home of HeinrichHimmler. He was one of the most sinister figuresin Nazi Germany. As head of the SS, he was incharge of the German Police, including the dread-ed Gestapo. He was also responsible for the entireconcentration and death camp systems, and assuch, he ordered the deaths of millions of inno-cent people, including Germans as well as unfor-tunates from conquered territories. He committedsuicide by taking poison after British troops cap-tured him in 1945. Captain Law was given a lettersigned by Himmler ordering an atrocity, andturned it over to the appropriate authorities.

Early on the morning of 8 May 1945, wereceived a radio message from Battalion HQ.They said the war with Germany was over.General Eisenhower would be on Armed ServicesRadio that night and the armistice would besigned the next day—which became known asVictory in Europe Day, or V-E Day. In anticipationof incautious exuberance we immediately calledfor non-imbibing volunteers to stand guard. Thiswas the time to celebrate. Everyone dug into theirbags and pulled out whatever they had to drink.Captain Law recalled the extremely unusualbehavior of Sergeant Bill McKegney that day. Hewas an upstanding soldier who was never seendrinking and had been a respected friend ofLaw’s since Fort Bragg. Sergeant McKegney satunder a kitchen table, a significant traffic area,and proceeded to drink most of a newly acquiredbottle of whiskey. He sopped up the sauce likeProhibition was just around the corner. Hourslater he was unconscious. We carried him out andput him in his bed.

Shortly afterward, we received orders to pre-pare to seize Stuttgart from the French Army. The

elements of the French 1st Army there were com-manded by French officers, but the enlisted menconsisted mostly of African colonial soldiers whowere only paid half as much as their metropolitanFrench counterparts. They were were pillagingand raping the citizenry of Stuttgart. GeneralEisenhowe, who had curtailed our planned attackin the first place under political pressure fromDeGaulle, got angry and ordered the French towithdraw and be replaced by the 397th InfantryRegiment. The French refused to evacuate, so heordered the 397th to attack. Company E was tolead the attack against our erstwhile allies.

It was a 30-mile march, taking a day and a halfto get to Stuttgart. By midday we got word frombattalion HQ that the French were pulling out.They left hangers-on of remnants of various unitswho did not want to leave. When they saw usthey pulled out that night and we occupiedStuttgart without firing a shot. Thus, what couldhave been a very serious rift in the embryonicwestern alliance was avoided.

After V-E Day we had a serious accident. Ourjeep ran over an antitank mine, and two of ourmen were killed. They were driving on anunused, unpaved road. We found no other minesand the civilians knew of no mines planted in thecity. This tragedy brought to reality what everyoccupation soldier continuously feared. The pos-sibility existed that German fanatics could stillcause problems for us. In addition to the possibil-ity of booby traps and landmines being laid bythese diehards, there was also the possibility ofsniping, individual murders, and even ambushesby these members of the so-called “Werwolf”movement. Of course, the countryside was lit-tered with unexploded ordnance and unsweptminefields, too, which only added to the dailydanger. After surviving six months of combat, apostwar casualty would be the worst that couldhappen.

Stuttgart was the capital of the German state ofWürttemberg located on the Neckar River. It is alarge city with a population of over a half million.Being a manufacturing center, it had beenbombed repeatedly. The railroad yard, militaryinstallations, and the factory district wasdestroyed. A 13th century moated castle wasbombed. Daimler-Benz, the oldest automobilefactory in the world was not then makingMercedes. It had been exporting half of theirannual production to practically every country inthe world. Stuttgart also possesses magnificent

50

gardens. Only 25 percent of its area is built over.It has parks, vineyards, orchards and gardens.

The Württemberg State Opera House wasnever hit by an aerial bomb. The beautiful mosa-ic ceiling of the great hall was badly scarred, how-ever, by bullets from a vandal’s machine gun. Theceiling was repaired before we left Stuttgart in1945. One of the fine hotels in the city was theGraf Zeppelin, opposite the main train station. Itwas crippled by the war but still operating.

The 1st and 3rd Battalions remained in Stutt-gart. They occupied a former German army cav-alry barracks. It was a handsome two-story brickbuilding which included spotless tile horse barns.The second battalion moved out of Stuttgart to apicturesque village called Ditzingen north of thecity. We were called a permanent occupation forceat that time. Our CP was in a large home ownedby a dentist who had his dental office in his home.He stored his equipment in one room. We alsohad a store across the street from the mess hallwhich we used as an office. The first sergeant andrunners worked in the office. The supply sergeantused a nearby building for equipment and sup-plies. He issued clean uniforms, which werebadly needed.

We captured a number of SS men who wereattempting to get to their families. They wereidentified by neighbors who no longer fearedthem. We set up checkpoints at various locationsto control unnecessary or unauthorized trafficand DPs who sometimes wandered aimlessly. Wereceived two new officers with no combat experi-ence. The closely knit, experienced team of com-bat officers at that time consisted of Captain Lawand Lieutenants Davison, Teiser, and Thena.

Early on in the Occupation, some guys gottogether and formed the “Society of the Sons ofBitche.” Men who fought that battle were given acertificate. It read: “(Name of soldier) is ALegitimate Son Of Bitche. Duly Inducted Into TheExalted Society Of Sons Of Bitche For His Part InThe Storm And Capture Of The Proud Citadel InThe Maginot Line On March 16, 1945.” The comi-cal “ceremonies” that accompanied the formationof the organization was great for morale, andhelped set the stage for a robust and highly activedivision veterans’ association which would befounded in the years to come.

We conducted many military ceremonies indowntown Stuttgart, using with the completeregiment and regimental band. Often, these were held to honor men who were receiving

decorations, and the German people turned outin great numbers. Generations of Germans hadgrown up with military uniforms, marching, andmartial music, and they liked ours as well. Theywere also curious. The Germans we got to knowwere nice people and they found our behavioracceptable.

Instructions for secret operations were circulat-ed on 20 July throughout the 397th InfantryRegiment. The operation entailed the systematicsearch of all civilians and homes in the area and itwas to come as a complete surprise. Company Ehad a specific zone with collecting points for con-traband articles as well as for individuals pickedup for infringement of occupation orders or lackof an identity card Everyone was ordered to staywhere they lived on the designated day.

Operation TALLY-HO started at 0700 and lasteduntil 1700. A fair amount of small pieces ofGerman and American military equipment wasconfiscated, along with some Nazi propagandaliterature. Much of it turned over voluntarily bythe citizenry. The most fuss occurred when wetook their hunting rifles and shotguns. Some of ussympathized with the displeasure of Germanfamilies of quality when we saw their splendidshotguns dropped into the Neckar River. It wasrumored that some pornographic literature wasconfiscated, too. It wasn’t in the orders. None of itappeared at the collecting points.

“No-Fraternization” policies forbade associa-tion with German other than on a business basis.We were not to socialize with German women ofany age. Over time, those rules were slackenedand social contact was allowed. This largely wel-come change of policy nevertheless brought somenew difficulties, including medical problems. Wehad a good medical detachment that handledthese incidents very capably. They prepared sev-eral hygiene classes that kept the men aware oftheir personal health responsibilities.

As the summer of 1945 wore on, with the warin the Pacific far from over, we received orders toinitiate an intensive training program that includ-ed physical exercise, classroom work, and fieldtraining. It was obvious that the regiment wasgetting back into shape both mentally and physi-cally. A rumor passed around that we were beingtuned up for the invasion of Japan. Latrines wereabuzz with speculation that the Division wouldbe shipped back to the States for a short respitethen refurbished and sent to the Pacific Theater.Captain Law checked with battalion HQ several

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times because the company was noticeablydepressed by the rumor. All he was told was thatthat was one possibility. This was difficult t to tellthe company, so he said nothing.

Captain Law decided to throw the enlistedmen a Victory Dinner to temporarily distractthem from the Pacific rumors. First Sergeant StanLeach was a positive and decisive leader. He wasa strict father figure for the enlisted men. Hecould get supplies to the company within chan-nels quickly or, when necessary, knew how towork outside of channels to achieve results. Hecould obtain what was needed that a companycommander couldn’t or took too long to getthrough the chain of command.

Leach was the key figure in putting the VictoryDinner together. He enhanced the army rationswith German baked goods and fresh vegetablesfrom the local green grocer. Good German lowalcohol beer was obtained, as well as high alcoholSchnapps and a donation of American whiskeyfrom the officer’s rations. Law said he had afriend at a nearby army field hospital who couldbring a group of nurses to the Company E VictoryDinner. The dinner and drinks were great but asthe enlisted men said later, the nurses weregreater. The nurses knew what they were therefor. They had made similar appearances. Theyreally worked hard, getting around to visit ordance with everyone, even the shy men. CaptainLaw came to the Victory Dinner after desert hadbeen served. The men saw him and became quietexpecting him to speak. His speech consisted of afew words of great importance to the men. Hesaid, “I’ve just come from RegimentalHeadquarters where I was told that the l00thDivision is going home.” He started to say morebut the immediate response was a wild uproar ofcheering. Private First Class Allen Holderfieldran over to the CO with tears running down hischeeks. He grabbed the captain’s hand and shookhis arm strenuously. “I’m just the messenger,”said the captain.

The delightful visit by the army nurses to thebig Company E dinner drew memories of donutdollies from Lieutenant Davison’s memory. Oneday on the front line we were dug into a defen-sive position. Things were quiet when a perime-ter guard radioed the CP to say there were abunch of girls at his position, equipped withdonuts. We went to see if he was delirious. Wefound four girls in a jeep with a trailer. They were

escorted by two armed soldiers and a Red Crossofficer in another jeep. We put them in a coveredposition and then pointed out nearby empty fox-holes for there use in case the enemy interruptedus. Four girls lined up beside their jeep and trail-er dispensing coffee, donuts and delightful chat-ter. Small groups of soldiers passed slowly byholding out their aluminum cups and taking asmany donuts as they could carry. It was a coldday for girl watching. The girls were bundled upin bulky clothes and wore helmets. There wasn’tmuch girl showing but they had pretty faces andsweet girl voices. Their mission was completed in40 minutes and they were on their way back tosafety. Before they left the Red Cross Officer toldLieutenant Davison said they always spread theircheer to soldiers behind the front lines. This timethey decided on an unauthorized trip to the frontto visit combat soldiers. They were curious aboutthe combat zone and compelled to extend theirfeminine charms where it was lacking. The COand Exec were greatly relieved when the girls leftwithout being fired upon during their visit.

Unfortunately, the plan to send any divisionsback to the States was cancelled. We becamewhat was called a “constabulary force.”However, the good news was that the Japs sur-rendered in August, so even if our trips homewere delayed, there would definitely be nodetour to the Pacific. General Burress relin-quished command of the 100th Infantry Divisionon 22 September 1945, and stepped up to com-mand VI Corps. He took Captain Law with him.Craig Davison assumed command of Company Ein “the final stage of occupation operations.”

The principal topic of conversation among themen then became “points.” They were based onthe amount of time served and the awardsreceived by each man. The higher each man’saccumulation of points, the sooner he was rotatedhome. After a period of time, the regiment wasrelieved of military duties in Stuttgart. As menwere judged to have enough points, they weretransferred to a homebound unit. The companygradually became unrecognizable by those whohad been around it for a long time, but those of uswithout sufficient points waited our turn. After along period of expectation, Company E daubed-cosmoline on their equipment for overseas ship-ment to the U.S. Units of the 397th Regimentstarted leaving Stuttgart on drafty 18 wheeltrucks headed for Marseilles, France 600 miles to

the southwest. They reached the embarkationcamps near the port in cold, wet weather after along bumpy ride. They listened for incoming mil-itary ship arrival reports on Armed ServicesRadio. Finally, our group left for Marseilles,France bound for New York City on 7 January1946.

Bill Law was assigned to the Corps Chief ofStaff’s section. He was responsible for collating avariety of reports for the CG. The “OccupationReports” he put together allowed the CG and hisstaff to track incidents of sabotage, motor vehicleaccidents, injuries, and the venerea1 disease rateof each subordinate unit. Graphs depicted the sig-nificant trends more dramatically than numbers.Bill Garden, Bill Law’s Company E predecessor incommand, was also assigned to VI Corps head-quarters.

Bill Law assumed command of a field artillerybattalion consisting of men who had the required

points to go home They marched to the Stuttgartrailroad yard where they waited for the stationmaster. They entertained themselves by examin-ing a line of very old freight cars. They learnedthat these were antique WWI freight cars called“forty and eights.” They were designed to carry40 men and 8 horses. Good enough for horses,Law supposed, but men in freight cars, he askedhimself? When the stationmaster arrived he toldLaw that these cars are taking you and your mento Antwerp. Bill was shocked into utter disbelief.He was told this is the only rail transportation atthis time at this place. The fragile 40 and 8’s wereslowly pulled 400 miles to Antwerp withabsolutely no amenities. Rail-side buffets wereserved at towns along the way. Reasonably fre-quent countryside stops were made so the mencould eliminate near the track.

A ship met them at the Port of Antwerp andthey landed in New York City, 19 March 1946.

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The Company “E”Anthem

(to the tune of “Talk of the Town”)

I can’t show my face, it’s a damn disgrace

People stop and stare, because I cut my hair

Just to please the Commander of Company “E.”

Every day we shave, then go out and slave;

We come home at night, don’t we look a sight,

Just to please the Commander of Company “E.”

What an aggregation, filled with aggravation

Marching along all day.

But this aggregation will receive ovation

On Armistice Day, what more can we say?

So until that day, we’ve no time to play

As we march along and sing this G. D. song

Just to please the Commander

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha of Company “E.”

William GardenWilliam LawDominic CuccinelloCraig DavisionOliver C. KnightonPeter P. PetraccoStanley TeiserDonald HollandJohn W. Mallory, Jr.Robert H. ThenaStanley J. LeachJoseph J. BellaviaAvis D. HammondVirgil M. KilgoreCharles MartinottiFrank OutslayErnest H. BlackwelderWilliam M. DittoHerman M. DuerrPhilip C. EsslworthLoren HarrisonFrederick HeinzmannBronislaw LisDaniel S. LynchJohn J. MarcheterreJoseph P. MuddFloyd D. NemecekJohn Olejar

Edward J. O’RourkeStanley J. StetzDavid E. ThomasRudolf AndrleRobert E. DawsonJoseph F. DolanHarry C. GratzNoramn L. LarsonGeorge W. Mays, Jr.William M. McKegneyKenneth A. MurtonJames R. NanceMichael G. PappasJohn E. Thoma, Jr.George J. WaltersDavid I. WatsonJoseph J. LakeKeith T. BeegleEugene J. DoffingOrville F. DolanAbner G. HinkleJim M. IzettJohn J. Reardon, Jr.Seldon S. RidenourBernard U. RitzertRobert G. RossRobert W. ShaughnessyElson L. ThompsonMarshall E. WalkerMarshall Buchanan

William A. ConstantinoClifford CrandallJames E. LedbetterFrank M. ManiscaloPhillip NassifBradford C. ParsonsGascon M. Stufflefield, Jr.Robert B. AbelTroy L. AdamsJoseph P. AlfanoGeorge R. ApgarWilliam B. BaileyDale J. BaldingPaul BarringerJack O. BeamsRobert L. BeehnRoy L. BianchiRobert A. BillingerRobert G. BoyeeCharles E. BowmanVirgil C. BradenWalter W. BrayRalph Q. BrollRoy L. BrownArmand R. BurleSeccy L. Bucciarelli, Jr.Owen E. BullockRobert L. CainMarcus CampbellRussell Campbell

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1st Lt Peter P. Petracco*2nd Lt Donald W. HollandS/Sgt James P. GrimesS/Sgt John A. MillerS/Sgt Richard PolhemusS/Sgt Artur D. ShutskinS/Sgt Francis WayteSgt Earl H. LelandPfc William A. BrenahanPfc Robert Burlison

Pfc John ChillemisPfc Donald Hildenbrand

(PW)Pfc Murray HornsteinPfc Herbert HulmesPfc Chester Merrill, Jr.Pfc Harold E. MillerPfc Jason Miller, Jr.Pfc James C. RembertPfc John J. Speier

Pvt Abner C. CulbertsonPvt Olan Dabbs Pvt Robert L HooperPvt Lloyd JesterPvt Philip LibronePvt Harold E MillerPvt Gene K. NeuboldPvt Stanley ThomasPvt Garo Yazujian

The Men of Company E

In Memoriam

*Battlefield Commission

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John P. CannavoJesse V. CawoodRichard E. CollinsThomas L. CowardKendall K. CoxRobert L. CoxAlvin L. Cummings, Jr.James R. CunninghamGeorge D. DonaldsonRichard P. DruryLenvil G. DukesJohn K. DuncanAlfred G. EdwardsJames A. EnglandJoseph E. FattlarJohn G. FaulknerRalph L. FrazierStell L. GillaspyKermit W. GrayEdward D. GrossForrest L. HannahNicholas A. HerresAllen C. HolderfieldRichard A. HoppeLyle F. HuckeBruce H. HursonNelson H. IrelandWilliam G. JacksonEmmett D. JordanThomas E. JoynerHarold E. KamanCalvin C. KimbelTheodore A. KessisJohn W. KnappStephen M. KolsouskyClinton H. KruwellWilliam A. LakyRobert E. Lannen, Jr.Joseph E. LeMayAmos H. LiebermanJoseph R. LiguoriMaurice LitchauerVictor P. LivotiPedro MarezRobert F. McCallumRalph L. McLemoreGuy H. McNelly, Jr.William F. Mentzer, Jr.Walter C. MichelAugustus G. Miller

Charles W. MillerPaul R. MellRollie R. MooreClaude A. Morris, Jr.Anthony NovakOdell E. NowlinJoseph C. OhlrichEric Olson, Jr.Marvin W. PearsonRoy T. PeddycordHerbert R. PetzoldRobert L. Pierson, Jr.Merel J. PittmanTheodore W. PolzeGerard RaimondiKenneth A. RathboneEdmund RebelloJohn R. RepicElmer A. RichardsonRobert W. RiedmattenFrank P. RoskeRoy M. SayneBertrand F. SchleismannCharles F. SingerElwood J. SmithHarry L. SmithOrla E. SmithAndrew J. SoakieHarry D. SowderVictor D. StahlWhitbury J. StellyJohn H. SternJoseph SternRex R. StevensEnoch E. StewartCharles Stiles, Jr.Howard R. TevesThomas A. Timmins, Jr.Archie G. TompkinsSaul B. UdinGlen E. VermillionWilliam H. WagnerJospeh M. WaltonRobert WestElvin E. WhatleyGeorge P. WirthRaymond C. WisecarverJoseph V. AnknerDelbert D. BriseboisGerald D. Browning

Thomas H. CareyR. J. HartmanFrank M. LaraChadwick C. NewmanOrlando R. PayneHubert C. WindellDaniel F. LinehanCharles P. SheehanKenneth J. SiebeRoss B. WarnerChester D. StanleyFranklin J. AlfordDominic J. Agatiello, Jr.George A. AllersHarold E. AmsdenAngelo AntonelliGlen E. ArndtEdward T. AudWilliam D. BaileyAnthony F. BarberaJohn S. BathJohn E. BeanThomas J. BegleyCarmello J. BenassiHenry A. BizzozeroDonald D. BodenSteve BodnerCharles P. BromleyKenneth L. BrowerAllen B. Brown, Jr.Frank R. BrownJohn J. BrustLeigh M. BullenAndy BurksRobert D. BurlisonJames T. Burns, Jr.George H. CaudillHector E. G. ChampagneJose J. CharezJohn ChillamiJohn J. ChwirutJ. C. CollinsPeter P. CombelSamuel A. CooperMariano Correia, Jr.Joseph H. CosbyThomas A. Convery, Jr.Kemper J. CridlandEdward F. CroftsAlton L. Crutcher

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Anthony CusumanoOlan DabbsHarold D. DalhousDomingo A. DasilvaEarl D. DavisHarold F. DavisArthus T. DelucaAnthony S. DeNigrisJohn J. DiSalveWilliam J. DohertyDominic M. DonatiMelvin DuckBaltzar L. DuranPeter D. Endzvick

Thomas J. English, Jr.Harold A. EstabrookSammie FishBertrand D. Felix, Jr.Robert E. FranckRobert S. FresheerGranville G. FullerRoger J. FunkRussell F. Gambill, Jr.Oscar A. GangwischKenneth V. GeortlerMurray GlucksternCarl W. HartPaul J. HelmanRoy L. HenryDaniel W. HerbertDonald L. HildenbrandWilson G. HirschJames W. HockelmanMurray HersteinHerbert S. HulmesFrederick V. Hurst, Jr.Dominick H. IacovelliMilton K. Jeffords, IIIRussell JemmettClifford L. JenkinsHarold J. JinksAlexander C. JonesDonald L. JosephJames L. King, Jr.Francis J. Kinzie, Jr.Robert L. KirkDennis E. KovalStanley L. KrusianskiGerald C. LaBounta, Jr.Anthony J. LaPorte

Lawrence T. LasagnaClifford L. LashleyHugh O. LaytonEarl H. LelandRichard P. LenskiPhilip LibroneAdrian L. LindseyQuentin H. LynesWilliam B. MackeIan A. MacphersonLucas C. MagpantayJohn J. McNeilDaniel J. McDonaldClifford L. MelkertJohn D. MeyersEdmund N. MichalskiHarold E. MillerJohn A. MillerGeorge B. Morledge, Jr.Julius D. MorrisonGrover L. MortonPhilip G. MowatDaniel P. MulherinMilton W. MummeyGene K. NeuboldHenry L. OganMelvin O. OlsonAnthony PavoniColeman PerryMilan PetrasFrancis PextonClifford L. PhillipsEdmond E. PochRichard R. PolhemusEdgar W. PughWilliam T. QuallsMartin J. QuinlanCharles E. RiceHenry Riechers, Jr.George L. Reilly, Jr.James O. RembertAndino RobbioJoseph S. RodriguezGeorge SabtovicJack J. ScavuzzoJoseph SchmiererNolan E. ScottAmous R. SmithArthur O. SlutzkinJohn R. Spier, Jr.

Horace T. SpradleyRichard D. SpragueRichard C. StoneRalph E. SullivanClayton H. TaylorDaniel P. TedderStanley B. ThomasBilly H. ThompsonLloyd D. ThompsonRobert C. TrarbaughRobert A. VestJames W. WalkerWilliam B. WattsonFrancis J. WayteEdward M. WeningerRaul L. WhiteIra J. WilliamsLawrence C. WiseGaro YazujianCharles M. ZestrsekJohn A. AdamsTelesforo AlbengaJoseph AmorinoJoseph A. BaclawskiEugene A. BahrCharlie A. BeckWilliam E. BrownWilliam A. BresnahanJames M. BuchananFrank T. Burns, Jr.Charles W. CarlPaul S. CelentanoHarry B. ClarkJune C. ClaytonAbner C. CulbertsonThaddeus A. CzyzyckiArthur T. DeLucaVincent J. DondiegoWilliam R. EndecottAnthony J. EossoPeter F. ForteDavid L. GenheimerJames P. GrimesBruce E. HenningtonRobert L. HooperWilliam V. HughesLloyd E. JesterJames O. JonesIra W. KaufmanEugene L. Klein

Michael F. LackRichard D. LaycockNicholas J. MatsukaChalmers W. McCoyChester S. Merrill, Jr.Jason S. Miller, Jr.Irvin Z. Moricle

Victor H. NashLoyall L. PfundSidney RobboyStephen SkabukThaddeus SkalskiJack H. SmithVernon Smallwood

Edward J. Thomas Anthony F. TomChristian A. WaltersCharles T. WeatherfordJames Wilson

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