CHAPTER V
We were dug in at the base of Hill 310, so named because it was 310 feet high. This hill had been assaulted by our 101st regiment just a day or two before, but the Germans were dug in on top and inflicted heavy casualties on the 101st, forcing them to withdraw. Their heavy losses were the reason we were sent in as replacements. The 101st called for timed artillery fire on the hill to knock out the enemy. This is artillery fire timed to explode just before reaching the ground and designed to knock out troops that are dug in. This was the situation that existed at the time of my arrival.
About midnight we were routed out and told we were assaulting the hill. The going was rough, as the hill was steep and slippery with mud, to say nothing of the full pack, rifle and ammunition we were carrying. Arriving at the top we found it deserted. Guards were posted and the rest of us were ordered to dig in. I shared a hole with Pete and we covered up with my shelter-half. It was cold and we dozed fitfully until morning.
When daylight came we crawled out to find we were covered with an inch of snow. Pietersen was dirty and grimy, with a two week's growth of beard. He looked at my cargo pack and said, "I don't want to tell you what to do; but if you intend to survive, you should get rid of that pack.
"You won't need that shelter-half and tent pegs. and you won't get any hot meals. There hasn't been any use of gas and that gas mask will only be in your way.
"Keep a clean pair of socks in your helmet and put your spoon in your jacket pocket and your raincoat in your pack."
I took his advice and kept what he told me to and dumped the rest in a ditch.
Hill 310 was the beginning of the Dieuze plateau, which extended for about eight miles towards Benestroff, our objective. It overlooked the valley and gave us command of the approaches. As I looked out over the valley where the enemy was still dug in, I could see why it was necessary to take this high ground and the terribly high price we had paid for it.
As we moved forward, I saw my first dead soldier. He was a young American lying sprawled on the ground with a pasty gray, putty-colored look. That was the first of many thousands I would see before this war was over.
All around could be seen dead Germans still crouched in their holes where they had been killed by our times artillery fire. We were stationed in groups and outposts overlooking the valley and told to be on the lookout for counterattacks. By mid-afternoon we were relieved and our outfit moved about a mile down the ridge to an abandoned church. From there we marched several miles down into the valley and were told to dig in for the night, as we were receiving considerable artillery fire.
Petersen, Pietersen, and myself decided to dig a three-man hole. They said they would dig if I would get some straw to put in it. There was a barn about a quarter of a mile out in a field about half full of sheaf oats. The field was littered with dead cattle and horses and the odor of death hung heavily in the air.
I picked up four bundles of oats and plodded back to our area. They had the hole completed by the time I arrived. We spread the oats on the ground and then covered the top with logs and dirt. Someone had built a small fire to warm by, as it was still daylight. We were standing around talking when our platoon sergeant, Danny Deyesso, told us we would jump off at daylight in an attack on Guebling.
Some of the fellows were showing pictures of their families and some were talking about their plans after the war was over. Some just stood staring into the fire and wondering what tomorrow would bring.
When darkness came the fire was put out. The sergeant told us to get some rest, as we would have a hard day tomorrow. How right he was.
We crawled in our hole, which was very cramped, and tried to get some sleep. But due to the cold, the snow, and thinking about the next day, we got very little sleep.
About 5:00 on the morning of November 14, we were routed out. After a quick breakfast of C rations, we marched about a mile to an assembly area near the outskirts of the town of Guebling and spread out in a thin line. Our company was to make a frontal attack on the town and F company was to our right. At precisely 6:00 our artillery came in over us and pounded the town for about ten minutes.
The town seemed to explode and it seemed impossible for anyone to survive in that area. As we waited, poised for the attack, I got a sickening, empty, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. We were all scared, but somehow an inner courage helped us overcome the debilitating fear.
The barrage lifted and we started running towards the town, expecting at any minute to be fired upon. We rushed into the town without resistance and proceeded to go from house to house to dig out the enemy. The town was deserted. The Germans had withdrawn and dug in on higher ground. They would hit us again before long.
We moved through the town and came to a large open area with pine timber on both sides. This field was slightly uphilll and we all had an uneasy feeling as we started forward.
Suddenly all hell broke loose and we were hammered with rifle, machine-gun and mortar fire, as well as fire from tanks stationed in the woods to our right. Our squat leader, Alexander, was killed instantly with a rifle bullet through his head.
Samuels, to my right, was hit. So were Leffler, Livesy and Petersen. We hit the ground and started looking for any rock, ditch or clump of grass that would give us cover. And we started firing back at anything that moved.
We were pinned down most of the day by the merciless fire; but I could see Sgt. McPhee on my right kneeling up and firing rifle grenades at the tanks in the edge of the pine trees. By late afternoon we were ordered to pull back to a road about 100 yards to the rear.
Petersen came running by with the trousers on his right leg torn and soaked with blood. Pietersen came to my position and was visible upset and shaken. He told me that when we were fired upon he jumped to the nearest shell hole.
Later he said he had called to me repeatedly, but due to the noise, he received no answer. He said, "Lindsey, I was sure that I was all alone, and I made up my mind that if the Germans counterattacked, I would put the rifle to my head and blow my brains out."
I said, "Pete, if you are going to die, just go down fighting and take as many with you as you can."
When we regrouped, we heard that F company on our right had been surrounded by tanks and was completely wiped out. Those that were not killed were captured and taken prisoner. I didn't know until years later that Pop Merchant was among those taken prisoner and was later liberated.
Our dead and wounded were still laying on the slope in the snow. They were later evacuated. Having failed to take the town by a frontal attack, we then circled the town and attacked from the west. We immediately ran into heavy resistance from tanks and machine guns lined up in the edge of the pine trees.
It was now beginning to get dark and a steady stream of tracer bullets was covering the entire area. When you realize that only one out of every four bullets is a tracer, you begin to understand how much fire was being thrown at us. The situation looked hopeless, but we began running towards the town.
At times we crawled in the muddy depressions made by the tank tracks. First Sgt. McPhee grabbed a bazooka and fired several rounds at the tanks, damaging two and forcing their withdrawal. For this heroic action, he was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross.
We soon arrived at a stream at the edge of town and waded across in bone-chilling waist-deep ice water. Just ahead was a two-story rock building. Just before arriving at the stream, we could see machine-gun fire coming from the second story. But by now it was silent.
Our platoon leader told me and Brown, a bartender from Florida, to rush the building and toss in a couple of grenades. As we went forward, Brown grumbled, "Where in the hell are all the sergeants that are supposed to lead us?"
He took one side and I took the other. We both tossed a grenade in the upper story and flattened ourselves against the side of the building. After the blast, we stealthily made our way into the town. By now it was pitch dark and the town was a beehive of activity.
We could hear the rumble of tanks and weapon carries, as well as the puttering of motorbikes as they prepared to withdraw. We went down the street and slipped into the deserted buildings in small groups. While I was standing guard by the door, I would hear the Germans giving orders to the men running down the street. I was so close I could have reached out and grabbed one of the by the arm.
Soon the town became silent and we checked to see how our outfit had fared. Of the twelve men in our squad that jumped off that morning, there were only five of us left. It was then I realized a combat infantryman lives a very precarious life.
We made contact with the platoon across the street and set up outposts for the night. We covered all the windows and made a small fire on the floor and brewed some coffee, as we were all cold and tired.
Near midnight we could hear water running outside and soon it started creeping into our building. Later we found out the Germans had opened the flood gates on the canal and flooded the town to cover their withdrawal.
We climbed up to the loft and spent the rest of the night in the cold, as the top of the building had been blown away by artillery.
At daylight the screaming meemies started coming in on us. They are multiple rockets that have a weird screaming sound as they approach and make the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Soon a jeep made its way into town and brought us C rations and replenished our supplly of ammunition.
We had been bothered by sniper fire since daylight and were ordered to clean out the town, house by house. All of the Germans had pulled out except for a few snipers to hold up our advance. They were located and eliminated and the town was made secure by noon.
After the water subsided, we were assembled in the street for roll call. There was a heavy silence as some of the names were called, as our losses had been very heavy. Sgt. Robinson was assigned to our squat to replace Sgt. Alexander, who had been killed the day before. some of us were notified that we had been promoted to PFC and awarded the Combat Infantryman's badge. This award carried an increase in pay of $10 per month, which we felt we had justly earned.
When you go into an attack, your overcoats are thrown on a pile and brought up to you later. This may take several days, depending on the severity of the fighting. Pietersen found an old red comforter in one of the houses and rolled it up and tied it with baling wire and slung it over his shoulder.
That night we found an abandoned barn, and six of us slept spoon-fashion in the hay covered with this comforter. The next day we moved forward about a half-mile, meeting some resistance in the pines; but we went through the woods with rifles blazing and captured two prisoners.
That night we dug in at the edge of the pine woods. The next morning, as I crawled out, I looked square in the face of a dead German. That was a little disconcerting so early in the morning; but not enough to keep me from brewing a cup of coffee to take the snow chill out of my bones.
On November 20, we started moving eastward, slowly putting pressure on the enemy until we arrived at a point southwest of Munster. We were quartered in an old house that had been badly battered; but we covered the windows and made a fire in the stove.
After dark our squad was ordered to make a night patrol into Munster to try to make contact with the 328th, which had been attacking the town from the northwest. There were four of us on the patrol: Sgt. Robinson, Knudson, Slim McAllister -- a rancher from Wyoming -- and me. It was about 8:00 on Thanksgiving night when we left on our mission.
We checked with the guards on our perimeter and told them we would be back around midnight and received the necessary password. A cold freezing rain set in as we stumbled along in the darkness, and when we arrived at the river outside Munster we found the river swollen from recent heavy rains.
The bridge leading into Munster was destroyed, so we started up river to find a place we could cross. The current was swift and the water was icy cold. We had to try several spots before finding a place we could wade across by holding our rifles above our heads.
When we reached the other side, we cautiously made our way through the pines until we reached the edge of town. We were unable to make contact with any patrols from the 328th, and assumed they were held up east of town. There were numerous fires burning in the town and we could hear the Germans shouting commands and maneuvering their tanks and armored vehicles into position to defend the town.
After gathering as much information as possible, we quietly made our way back to the river and waded across, hoping we would not run into a German patrol. The night was pitch black and it began to sleet. Our clothing was frozen stiff and we were miserably cold, but finally arrived at our area. We called out the password and received an answer from the guards.
We proceeded to our area and reported all the details to our company commander. He immediately called the artillery. Within minutes our artillery was screaming overhead and we could see the town bursting into flames. Our efforts that night made it possible for the 328th to take the town the following day.
The lieutenant told us we would be relieved of duty the next day so we could rest and dry out our clothes. We went to the house where our squad was quartered and stripped off all our clothes and hung them by the stove and rolled up in a blanket on the floor.
At daybreak Sgt. Deyesso came in and ordered everyone outside. The four of us told him we were on patrol last night and were relieved of duty that day. The sergeant said he had orders to move everyone out, as there was a strip of pine timber about a mile down the road held by the Germans that was holding up our advance. He said this would be a three- or four-hour job; and then we could come back and rest. Little did we realize, as we pulled on our wet, stiff clothes that it would be two miserable weeks before we would see shelter again.
We moved out down the road at twenty-foot intervals. In the event we would encounter incoming artillery or mortar fire, not more than one soldier would be killed or wounded. As we entered the pines, we found the trees were very dense. So we gathered closer together in order to maintain contact.
Suddenly a German popped up out of nowhere about fifty yards ahead. He was as startled as we were. He paused momentarily and then turned and started to run. All of us raised our rifles and blasted away. He dropped to the ground like a felled pine tree. Who or how many hit him will never be known; and it is just as well.
A minute or two later another German stepped into sight almost in front of us. When he saw us, he immediately dropped his rifle and raised his hands above his head. He was taken prisoner and escorted back to the company CP for interrogation.
We moved forward cautiously for a short distance when suddenly a machine-gun opened fire on us. We hit the ground and took cover, as we were in their direct line of fire. We fired back in their general direction to give the squad on our left time to maneuver to their exposed flank. With grenades and rifle fire, they knocked out the machine gun and we continued on through the pines.
Our progress was slow, as we continued to run into planned resistance the rest of the day. At nightfall we dug in and posted guards and tried to get some rest.
This fighting in the Bonnefontaine woods lasted for several days. It was so fierce that units of our battalion became separated and we were strictly on our own. Our company found ourselves at the edge of the woods near Chateau Bonnefontaine. We received orders to attack the Chateau, which was heavily defended by Germans. Due to casualties, our company strength was down to about 100 men.
We split into two groups and planned to attack from two sides. As we rushed toward the chateau about 200 yards away, our group was hit with machine gun and rifle fire, as well as 40 mm cannon fire. We were immediately pinned down and returned the fire; but our rifles were no match for their machine guns and cannon.
We were forced to withdraw to the pines and regroup. Meanwhile the other group ran into heavy resistance and were surrounded and captured by the Germans. About 40 men were captured, including our company commander, Lt. Pennington.
During the night, a large group of Germans withdrew, taking our prisoners with them, leaving only a small force to hold up our advance. In the confusion, Lt. Pennington escaped and made his way back to our unit. At daybreak we launched another attack and were successful in taking the Chateau and holding it. We finally contacted the rest of our battalion and we were told to stay at the Chateau until they could reach us.
At one time the Chateau was a beautiful home of about 20 rooms and furnished with fine furniture, paintings and books. Now, the building was badly damaged and had no heat. But we did find something to ward off the cold. Down in the basement we found a wicker-covered, five gallon jug half-full of cognac. Sgt. Robinson said, "Scrounge around, boys, and find every bottle you can, as we are going to take as much of this as possible."
This was indeed a boost to our morale, as well as taking the ever-present chill out of our bones.
The next day, we left the pines and started moving across more open country. We were now entering Lorraine territory, characterized by its small villages and farms. The villages date back hundreds of years, when the people built their homes close together for mutual protection.
The homes were built with thick stone walls and EVERYTHING was under one roof. Stepping out of the kitchen door, you entered the cow shed. Next to that was a shed housing the pigs or goats, followed by a shed for the chickens.
During winter, the manure was piled high in front of the house along the narrow road. When spring came, they would load the manure on two-wheel carts drawn by oxen and spread it on their farms outside the village. You could generally smell these villages a mile away; but it didn't seem to bother the people, as this was their way of life.
This area had been conquered alternately by the French and Germans for centuries; and we were suspicious of everyone because you never knew if they were sympathetic to the germans or the Allies.
There were numerous small churches and shrines in the area, and all displayed the distinctive cross of Lorraine, which is similar to the cross on our Christmas seals.
It was just such a village as this that we approached in the afternoon. It was apparent the Germans were in the area, as we could hear gun fire and several barns were afire. We were split into groups. Each group was assigned a house to clean out. Four of us rushed our house and took it from front and back.
When we entered, we found a man and wife with two small children and a grandmother huddled together near the fireplace, not knowing what to expect. The man stepped forward and said, "Ne Boche," and pointed to the east, indicating the Germans had left in that direction.
We checked every room but did not find any of the enemy. When we returned to the main room, the man tried to show they were friendly by bringing out a basket of ripe, yellow pears and gave one to each of us.
He then went to a closet and brought out a gallon jug containing what appeared to be water. Seeing our hesitation, he poured some in a glass and downed it in one gulp to show us it was all right.
That was good enough for me, so I poured some in a glass and gulped it down as he did. It seemed as if someone had hit me on the head with a sledgehammer. I gasped for breath, choked and my eyes watered. But I managed to say, "Man, that is really good!"
We gave the children some of the hard candy from our C rations and proceeded to check out the rest of the village.
We came to another house where an elderly lady and a young girl were baking black bread in an open hearth oven in back of the house. The dough was put on pans and pushed back into the oven with what looked like long-handled shovels called peals.
When the bread came out of the oven, it was black and the crust was very hard, but the inside was soft and the taste was delicious. We gave them candy and cigarettes for a loaf and cut it in pieces with a bayonet and divided it among us. I chewed on my piece for several days, as it was a welcome change from our monotonous rations.
That night we dug in at the edge of the woods and tried to get a little rest. But the woods had been hit so badly with artillery that the pine tree limbs kept falling all night. At daybreak we were routed out again and started pushing forward.
It was now December 2 and we were told that our objective was to take the strategic town of Saare-Union. We were to be supported by elements of the 4th Armored Division, which was welcome news to us. It is very comforting to have tanks alongside when fighting a very formidable and determined enemy. We would fight by day and dig in by night, sometimes gaining only two or three hundred yards a day. We were all cold, weary and exhausted by the time we reached the Saare River and successfully crossed it on December 8.
We were now on the outskirts of the town. By nightfall, it was taken and made secure. We were quartered in an old school building. After posting guards, we managed to get a little rest under the first shelter in weeks.
The next morning we received a hot breakfast for the first time in heaven knows how long and were informed we were being relieved by the 87th Division, which had recently arrived from the States.
Thus, on December 10, the 101st Regiment of the 26th Division ended its first campaign, beginning on November 8, just east of Nancy, continuing through day of hard combat into the province of Lorraine and ending at Saare Union.
During this campaign, the Yankee Division advanced over 45 miles, wresting from the enemy 132 French towns over an area of 450 square miles. During this period 2600 prisoners were taken and 2300 casualties inflicted on the enemy. For their efforts in this campaign, the Yankee Division was awarded its second battle star.
That afternoon we were loaded onto trucks and driven to a staging area outside the city of Metz. We marched several miles into the city to an old French barracks where we were quartered. We were a pretty sorry sight as we marched in, as our clothing was torn and dirty and all of us had a month's growth of beard.
On the way, I met one of my buddies from Camp Roberts and he told me that Richard Roop had been killed several days earlier. That was indeed a blow to me.
Though tired, our spirits were high as we had hopes of spending Christmas with a shelter over our heads. The next day we were marched to a public bathhouse and given a chance to shower and shave.
Some clean clothing was available and I got a new pair of wool underwear, which I put on next to my body and pulled my soiled ones over them. I also received a pair of combat boots and discarded my old shoes and leggings.
Next morning we were told that our regiment was given the task of out-posting Fort Jeanne d'Arc at the edge of the city. This fort was manned by the Germans and still intact, although all of the surrounding country was in Allied hands. In their sweep across this area, the Americans attempted to storm this fort but were unable to crack their formidable defenses.
They decided to bypass the fort and keep it surrounded and eventually starve them out.
The fort was built of heavy concrete and steel walls and roof; and the inside was like an underground city covering four square miles of installations. Our company was stationed in the town of Gravelotte overlooking the fort. Periodically we would fire machine gun and mortar fire at the fort to discourage any attempt to escape.
The town was almost completely destroyed by artillery fire, and at night we would send out patrols to prevent escape from the fort, as they were desperate for food and ammunition.
Elements of our company were stationed throughout the town at night; and it gave you an eerie feeling out there alone. When the wind would blow, parts of the damaged buildings would fall and you could imagine the Germans were moving around out in the darkness. The weather was getting colder and there would be snow flurries almost every day. We would be on guard two hours and then we would be relieved for two hours. We would go inside and have a cup of coffee to take the chill out of our bones.
Between our position and the fort was an open area which we called no-man's land. This area was littered with American and German dead that fell in the initial assault and were unable to be evacuated. Due to the cold weather, the bodies did not decompose so fast, but the smell of death hung heavily over the area. Although the weather was cold, we were glad to be assigned this duty, as it was relatively safe and not too arduous.
On December 13, a message came from the fort requesting a meeting to discuss surrender terms. General Hartness, Assistant Commander of the Yankee Division, was appointed to represent the division. With several other officers, he met with the German fort commander, Major Jans Voss, at a prearranged place.
The party was escorted into the fort where they found almost starvation conditions. After the terms of uncondiitonal surrender were given, the Germans were ordered to come out in groups. About 600 prisoners were taken, marking the first capitulation of this fort in its existence of many centuries. The fall of Fort Jeanne d'Arc represented the last stronghold of resistance in France. The enemy had now been driven from the free countries and forced to retreat behind its own borders.
As the Yankee Division had suffered heavy casualties in recent weeks, the strength in all companies was far below normal. It was necessary to receive new replacements to bring division strength up to combat-readiness. As a result, a training program was initiated to recapture team structure which had existed previously. Instructions were given in the use of flame throwers and plastic explosives, as these devices would be necessary in eliminating concrete pillboxes and fortifications in the Siegfried line.
On December 18, our training period came to an abrupt halt, as word was received that the Germans had launched a major offensive to the north, swarming out of their west wall and heading in the direction of Luxemborg. Thus our hopes of spending Christmas in the comparative peace and quiet of Metz were shattered and we started making preparations to move out again.
