by Leo Barron
Despite this devastating setback, Captain Robert MacDonald’s Baker Company had a mission to secure the crossroads, since it was the last major road junction west of Bastogne still under American control. So long as the Americans controlled it, the Germans would have to go around it, thereby increasing their tenuous supply lines. It wasn’t long before the 2nd Panzer Division tried to take it back. Later that day, a pair of Panther tanks rumbled toward the crossroads, only to turn around, since they had no infantry accompanying them. MacDonald knew it wouldn’t be long before the Germans returned. Moreover, his company was out on a limb, and if the Germans forced the issue, Baker Company had no one to reinforce them.10
Northeast of Allen’s battalion, the 502nd Parachute Infantry Regiment was locked in combat with the advancing Wehrmacht for control of Noville. As the 2nd Panzer Division began to overwhelm the defenders—chiefly the 506th PIR and Team Desobry of Combat Command B, 10th Armored, Colonel Chappuis was positioning his regiment to the southwest of Noville to prevent the Germans from penetrating the Bastogne perimeter in that area. The key to his defense was the area around the village of Recogne, which was about a mile southwest of Noville.
The battle in and around Recogne lasted all day, as 3rd Battalion of the 502nd PIR fought to keep the Germans from establishing a firm foothold just north of Bastogne. Several tank destroyers from C Company of the 705th helped out. Sergeant Lazar Hovland, one of Sergeant Tony D’Angelo’s platoon mates, destroyed one Mk IV and damaged another. Despite these successes, Lieutenant Colonel John P. Stopka, 3rd Battalion’s commander, decided the best course of action was to leave Recogne a no-man’s-land. Instead, his battalion withdrew and deployed along high ground to the southwest of Recogne, where they could still observe the town.11
That night, Fred MacKenzie watched as General McAuliffe and his staff looked over the reports of the day and scrutinized the few they had of the Bastogne area. At thirty-nine years of age, MacKenzie was an educated and experienced man. He knew that he was privileged to be witnessing something historical and was determined, come what may, to capture every bit of it for posterity. At the same time, MacKenzie had his doubts. Maybe coming to Bastogne with the Screaming Eagles was not the best decision. Though safe within the division’s bustling headquarters, he could hear the dull thunder of German artillery in the distance.
In his famous account of the siege, The Men of Bastogne, written decades after the war, MacKenzie captured the atmosphere: “In the Division Operations Room, the deepening gloom darkened the shadows cast by the figures of its occupants.”12
MacKenzie listened in as McAuliffe’s staff—which included Brigadier General Gerald J. Higgins, the assistant division commander; Lieutenant Colonel Carl W. Kohls, the G4, or chief supply officer; and the ever-busy Kinnard—discussed the events of the day.
The trio conversed about how, earlier, less than two miles to the southeast of Bastogne at Marvie, Colonel Harper’s 2nd Battalion of the 327th Glider Infantry had thwarted an assault from Panzer Lehr. The news that day was a tradeoff. By late afternoon, reports had arrived that the battle for Noville had been lost. By 1400, units of the 506th were retreating pell-mell toward Foy. Elements of the 2nd Panzer Division had almost turned the retreat into a bloody rout.13
There had also been the report of the field hospital debacle. This was a tremendous blow to the entire division, and dramatically pointed out a weakness in the “backdoor” defense of the hastily created American perimeter. As the regiments had disposed themselves and divided up to cover the various 360 degrees around Bastogne, McAuliffe emphasized to his staff that constant communication and flexibility would be key to defending the seven roadways into the town.
McAuliffe worked with his staff to grasp the full situation and fully assess all of the information available, but in the end, he knew the decision would be his and his alone. The decision would likely be the toughest one of his career, and it would define him for the rest of his life. Should the 101st Airborne stay and fight in Bastogne or withdraw to the southwest?
If they decided to withdraw, they had to do it now. The Germans, like a great python, were coiling their way around the town of Bastogne. Within hours they might encircle all of the American forces in a suffocating death grip. A withdrawal from town, though, was fraught with risks and, in the face of intense enemy pressure, could lead to a rout and disaster. The Germans had plenty more vehicles than the Americans, so the likelihood was high that the Wehrmacht could easily catch up with the paratroopers, who would mostly be marching out on foot. The near disaster that day at Noville had pointed out that it was almost impossible for a predominantly infantry-heavy force to break contact and retreat in the face of a predominantly panzer-heavy force.
McAuliffe and his staff were not afraid of being surrounded. Paratroopers and glider troops were trained and expected to fight completely surrounded and cut off from friendly forces. This was nothing new. If they were to stay put and let the Germans surround them, the big question was how they would be supplied so they could continue to hold Bastogne. Food, ammunition, medical supplies, and fuel would be used up quickly.
The most pressing issue, as far as McAuliffe was concerned, would be the artillery ammunition. He knew he had the guns, but worried about having enough rounds for a protracted siege or sustained artillery action.
McAuliffe discussed the issue of resupply with his staff. For now, they were relying on a thin stream of trucks traveling on a single road to the southwest. If that was cut, resupply would have to come from the air. McAuliffe was gambling that the weather would clear enough in the near future for aerial resupply, but the forecasts were not good. The weather would apparently get a lot worse before it got better. For now, the defenders of Bastogne would have to make do with what they had brought and what they could find.14
He still needed more information. What are we up against, exactly? What do the Germans plan to do? He needed to know these answers before he made such a critical decision. For several minutes, indecision reigned in McAuliffe’s mind.
Then there was a knock at the office door. Colonel Danahy had returned from Crossroads X and the overrun field hospital. He immediately filled in McAuliffe as to what he had seen.
“Sir,” he announced to General McAuliffe with confidence, “they are using our equipment because they need it.” Danahy had found eleven dead Germans wearing various articles of American uniforms and civilian clothes. Danahy doubted this was being done as a ruse, because it seemed inconsistent and random. In addition, he had received reports that the Germans were also using American tanks. It all meant only one thing to Danahy—the Germans were scrounging for stuff because they didn’t have it themselves. The Germans were evidently not well prepared for a siege.
Hearing Danahy’s assessment helped McAuliffe make his decision. “I’m staying,” he declared. None of the men in the room knew it at the time, but their commander had just committed them to one of the epic stands in American military history.15
MacKenzie had witnessed the incident. Years later, he wrote of the stirring moment after the war. “The tenor of the General’s voice marked what he said as the considered, unalterable decision of their commander, and the staff members experienced the thrill that command decisions always sent coursing through them in situations where their courage was challenged and where their lives could be forfeited. The bit of drama that General McAuliffe had furnished was needed….”16
The Americans were staying in Bastogne. The staff responded, nodding. The officers and MacKenzie knew what the stakes were. They were taking a stand. Success meant victory and, more important, survival. Defeat meant probable death. McAuliffe’s single-minded decision could turn out to be the most famous decision for the 101st Airborne, or it could turn out to spell their doom.
With that, McAuliffe made plans to make one last trip to meet with General Middleton and make sure that if they stayed in Bastogne, somehow they’d be supplied.
Later that night, General McAuliffe mad
e a risky but necessary trip southwest down the last open road to Neufchâteau to meet one last time with General Troy Middleton, the VIII Corps commander, and inform him that the 101st Airborne was going to stay and fight in Bastogne. Unbeknownst to McAuliffe, the German 26th Reconnaissance Battalion was slowly making its way westward from Remoifosse. Several hours after McAuliffe returned to Bastogne, Major Rolf Kunkel’s scouts cut the road to Neufchâteau, severing Bastogne’s lifeline to the outside world. In short, had McAuliffe returned several hours later, he would have been a prisoner of war instead of an American hero.17
Morning to afternoon, Thursday, 21 December 1944
Area of operations, 101st Airborne Division
Bastogne and environs
The morning of the twenty-first started out with a successful ambush at Crossroads X west of Bastogne. Baker Company of the 1/401st Glider Infantry destroyed an entire column of German vehicles traveling south from Salle. As a result, the 2nd Panzer Division had to commit more combat power to clear out the intersection. In addition, Baker Company’s tenuous hold on the crossroads continued to disrupt German supply lines.18
Later that afternoon, the Germans started to pressure the isolated glider company. Around 1200 hours, after another probing attack of panzers, Lieutenant Colonel Ray Allen decided to pull back B Company, ordering Captain MacDonald to withdraw from Crossroads X. MacDonald’s men reached the battalion lines at Flamizoulle that evening. Since the morning of December 20, this lone company had held up the supply lines of an entire panzer division.19
Since MacDonald’s men had been pulled back to the north of C Company, it now fell on Charlie Company to watch the Marche road. The men knew that if they hadn’t already, the Germans would probably try to seal this avenue or try once again to use it as an inroad to Bastogne.
Sergeant Robert Bowen, the leader of C Company’s understrength 3rd Platoon, recalled the situation:
“Company C held a very vulnerable sector of the defense line with the greatest gaps between it and the other companies. The 2nd platoon held the westernmost roadblock in the division, dug in on the slope of a rise among some trees, with rolling hills and patches of woods to the front.”20
Even with Baker Company’s redeployment, in protecting this “back door” to Bastogne, the entire 1/401st was still spread much too thin. The dangerous salient that thrust out like a sore thumb from the perimeter surrounding Bastogne still existed.21
Because of this, Captain Preston E. Towns, Bowen’s company commander, grew nervous. Like many of the other company commanders, he had heard the discomfiting noises of German vehicles and men moving near the road that morning. Towns, an extremely tall, lanky officer with a misleading baby face, had relayed this information to Allen. Allen told him to stay put for now.
When the word got back to him, it was no consolation to Towns. Sitting at his headquarters in a farmyard garage, his six-foot-seven frame squeezed into an old car, the Georgia native cursed when he received the response. Like MacDonald, Towns was frustrated with his position. He knew what was expected of his company, but for the next few days and nights, the glidermen would be dangerously exposed, spread out in a thin line almost five miles from the established perimeter.22 To help out, McAuliffe agreed to send over some armor support in the form of two M18s from Templeton’s 705th and a Sherman tank from the 10th Armored Division. In addition to that, the glidermen set up a 37mm antitank gun in the woods nearby.23
In the 502nd’s area of operations, things were much quieter. 1st Battalion, under the command of Major John D. Hanlon, was on standby to support 3rd Battalion in case the Germans attacked Bastogne from the direction of Recogne. Later that day, Chappuis shifted Able Company from the area around Monaville to south of Longchamps to block any German infiltration emanating from Givry and Rouette. In addition, Chappuis started to send out reconnaissance patrols northwest toward Givry to probe and find the German lines. Other than a small run-in with a German patrol, the front was relatively quiet.24
All around the northwestern perimeter of Bastogne, from the Marche road to Champs in the north, the glider fighters of the 1/401st and paratroopers of 502nd sat in their exposed positions. Fortunately, all was quiet that night. Several of the soldiers on watch smoked cigarettes low in their foxholes, where the enemy couldn’t see the glow. Others gnawed on K ration bars, or checked their weapons and counted ammunition. Large flakes of snow fell at first, which became smaller and icier as the evening turned into morning.
By morning, a virtual carpet of white blanketed the fields in front of them. It was going to be a white Christmas this year. Unfortunately for the soldiers around Bastogne, they didn’t have much reason to celebrate.
Evening, Thursday, 21 December 1944
Area of operations, 26th Volksgrenadier Division
Bastogne and environs
Earlier that day, Colonel Kokott had decided to move his headquarters to the village of Hompre. This was not just on a whim. Kokott needed to be closer to where the fighting was breaking out, and today that had primarily been the areas to the south of town. On the twenty-first, his division had sustained 300 to 350 casualties fighting to secure the ground to the south of Bastogne. The 26th Reconnaissance Battalion incurred most of those casualties, but the price was worth it. Kunkel’s battalion had tied the noose around Bastogne from the south. Now, Kokott hoped, it would be only a matter of time before the garrison in Bastogne withered and died.
Kokott was proud of his division. They had fought well, and now they were reaping the benefits of their efforts. Kokott had heard Wacht am Rhein was once again picking up steam. North of his division, almost an entire American division (two regiments of the 106th Infantry Division) had just surrendered in the Schnee Eifel on Tuesday. He wanted to repeat that feat here in Bastogne.
Scanning his operations map, which showed the various positions of his units, Kokott noticed that most of the enemy activity had been in the south and southwest. To him, it seemed the Americans were trying to break out somewhere on this side of the perimeter. In contrast, to the north and east, the lines had been remarkably quiet. It seemed to support his theory that the Americans were trying to escape toward Neufchâteau. Therefore he knew he should concentrate the bulk of his forces on the southwest side of the perimeter.
Just then an orderly arrived and handed him a piece of paper. It was the latest instructions from von Lüttwitz. Kokott read the instructions. The orders came as a shock. The first part informed him that the XXXXVII Corps commander was leaving the Bastogne mission to the 26th Volksgrenadier Division. This came as no surprise. Responsibility for keeping the Bastogne garrison surrounded would now fall on Kokott’s shoulders. He realized the rest of Fifth Panzer Army would have to move on if Wacht am Rhein had any chance of success. It was the second portion that floored him. Although von Lüttwitz was handing off Panzer Lehr’s 901st Regiment and giving him a corps artillery battalion for support, he was now ordering Kokott to capture Bastogne as well!
Kokott could not believe what he was reading. Capture Bastogne!? It was one thing to use his division to surround the town, but to capture it seemed a stretch. Did von Lüttwitz know something he didn’t know? Perhaps the corps intelligence sections estimated that the Americans holding Bastogne had sustained greater losses than previously thought and, as a result, their morale was suffering? Still, Kokott thought, it was ludicrous to think that one division could defeat another division in a deliberate attack, especially when the enemy division was dug in and firmly emplaced in a major urban center. Military logic dictated that you needed at least a two-to-one advantage in combat power before you even contemplated tackling a foe who was in a prepared defense. All this and he faced an American armored combat command in addition to an elite airborne division—some of the toughest fighters the Amis had (The term Amis was German slang for Americans).
Von Lüttwitz did not have a choice. He had to keep pushing to the Meuse River, and he could not allocate any more forces to the reduction of the Bastog
ne garrison. He was under pressure from von Manteuffel, who was growing impatient with von Lüttwitz’s corps, and needed to quickly seize the bridges at the Meuse if Wacht am Rhein were to succeed. He realized that Bastogne was what was dragging at the tail of his momentum. To von Manteuffel, Wacht am Rhein was running behind schedule, and Bastogne was merely a sideshow. The 101st was an American Fallschirmjäger division, not usually supplied or suited for long operations. The corps commander believed in a siege, and when the conditions were ripe—when the Amis ran desperately short of ammunition and supplies—it would be time for Kokott’s men to drive in for the kill.
The problem was that there was no way for the Germans to predict when the American garrison in Bastogne would break. It could happen in days or weeks. The paradox was von Manteuffel had to have Bastogne as soon as possible, but he didn’t have the forces to take Bastogne and reach the Meuse simultaneously.25
Outside in the streets of Hompre, the wind had kicked up, and the snow was coming down more rapidly than before, falling on the roofs of the farmhouses and barns. The snow was actually starting to stick, Kokott noticed. It reminded him of more peaceful Decembers in Germany—many a Christmas spent watching the beautiful blanket of snow out the window of his home, enjoying the company of friends and family. Now the weather seemed an enemy—as in Russia—a hardship. It was destined to make matters worse tomorrow, especially in light of this news.
Frustrated but determined, Kokott and his operations officer, Major Hans Freiherr von Tiesenhausen, went to work by lantern light, drafting up the next-day orders for the regiments. For Colonel Martin Schriefer’s 77th Volksgrenadier Regiment, the mission was simple: Relieve the security detachments from the 2nd Panzer Division and head west. Looking at the map, Kokott could see that the 77th would eventually have to march to Mande Saint-Etienne to link up with the rest of the division. In addition, Kokott wanted the 77th to concentrate its decisive operation around the tiny town of Champs. He could see that Champs also controlled a vital avenue into Bastogne from the northwest. As a matter of fact, Kokott noticed that the road here traveled through German-held Rouette and straight into Champs. Although his patrols had checked out this route, there had been no serious attempts at probing it and finding whether it was, in fact, the way into Bastogne.26