by Leo Barron
“It was a hell of a fight,” Gisi recalled. “… the Germans we didn’t kill, we captured… it was pure hell.”7
Gisi remembered firing in “almost every direction” from his foxhole to the left, right, and upslope of A Company’s position.8
Lieutenant Ryan’s memory was similar: “We just piled the Jerry dead up and they did a good job on us too, but we got the most in the long run.”9
Now, from their carefully dug-in positions behind the slope, MacDonald’s 81mm mortar section chimed in, lobbing shells into the masses of German infantry. “In effect, we had bottled up the krauts. Towns was coming up from the rear, the 81s were plastering the front, and we were pouring in plenty of lead from the [right] flank,” MacDonald reported after the war.10
“Finally, as dawn broke the enemy panicked and attempted to cross the 300 yards of open ground to our front. They never had a chance. We had our whole front well covered with mortar barrages and as they would move from one concentration area to another we would merely shift the fires,” MacDonald remembered. “The riflemen were standing out of their holes bracing their rifles against the fir trees for better aim.” For the duration of the morning, MacDonald’s mortarmen played a horrific game of cat and mouse with the surviving German soldiers, hunting them this way with mortar and gun.11
With this move, the door had swung shut behind the armor, and the glidermen slaughtered most of the cutoff Panzergrenadiers who were on foot. Those who survived chose to surrender. By day’s end, the A/401st would count ninety-two German prisoners of war. Many more lay still or twitching in the fields of snow.12
0710–0720 hours, Monday, 25 December 1944
Baker Company/705th Tank Destroyer section
A hundred yards behind Bowles’s command post, west of Bastogne
From his position in the woods behind Able Company’s foxholes, Lieutenant Richard Miller, the 705th reconnaissance leader, watched quietly as seven German tanks rolled past his position. A few minutes later, in the dim light, it appeared as if one of the Mk IVs apparently stalled or broke down. To Miller, it looked like the Panzertruppen quickly hooked up cables and began to take the vehicle under tow. What he was probably witnessing, though, was the attachment of a large wooden troop sled being towed into battle behind the tank.
Like hunters carefully watching their quarry from the woods, Miller and his gun section—two B Company M18s led by Sergeant Clyde J. Love, from Sugar Grove, North Carolina—figured they would use the opportunity to even up the numbers.
Sergeant Love had his driver inch the olive drab TD out of the wood line. Although the whitewash some of the Mk IVs were painted with was an effective camouflage for the snow, the Americans were discovering that the dull green of their own vehicles was actually working well in the dark woods and shady tree lots.
To Love and Miller, it appeared that three German panzers were now heading eastward, one towing the other up the draw. The third vehicle was alone and providing rear security. Their lumbering speed made them easy targets for Love’s gunner.
The crew probably never knew what hit them. The solitary Mk IV guarding the other was the first target. Love’s Hellcat rocked backward as its 76mm gun fired. The first round hit home. The German tank brewed up, belching smoke. The other Mk IV, towing the large sledlike object, tried to escape, lurching forward, desperately trying to reach the crest of the hill in front of it. The sleigh behind it was an anchor, slowing down the metal beast as the two struggled up the hill.
The panzer would not find safety at the summit of the ridge. Like a swarm of bees, engineers from the Headquarters and Service Company of the 326th Engineers attacked the beleaguered vehicle. The company, under the command of Captain William J. Nancarrow, had been in reserve south of Colonel Allen’s headquarters. Not long after the German tanks had penetrated the line, Nancarrow had received a warning from Allen that tanks had bypassed Miller’s position and were heading his way. When the tanks reached a position three hundred yards north of the H&S Company, they opened fire on the American artillery batteries to the east near Savy. Nancarrow squinted, but in the dark was able to make out the oncoming vehicles as they crested a snowy rise. He noted that about fifty foot soldiers were accompanying the German armor. Placing three of his machine guns to provide covering fire, the gutsy Nancarrow grabbed a squad of men—privates Joe J. Berra, Stanley W. Wieczorek, Romer L. Williams, Joe H. Douglas, Jacques Levan, Cort L. Paine, and Technician Fifth Grade William H. Hussey—to help him take on the tanks.
While the rest of his company prepared to attack, Nancarrow sneaked toward the closest Mark IV with his team. About two hundred yards from the tank, Nancarrow ordered the bazooka team to fire. Removing the safety pin, one engineer slid the 2.36-inch rocket into the back of the tube and wrapped the tiny wires from the rocket into the magneto clamp on the top of the bazooka. He patted the engineer in front of him as the signal he was loaded. The gunner fired. With a sharp blast, the rocket smoked toward the tank.
The round bounced harmlessly off the Mark IV’s three-inch armor. To the engineers, it seemed the rocket merely angered the tank. Like a bear swatting at bees, the tank began to blindly fire its machine guns.
Nancarrow’s three machine guns replied, killing several of the Panzergrenadiers who were on or around the tank and scattering the others. In the flashes of automatic gunfire rattling back and forth through the misty morning air, two of Nancarrow’s men were killed.
Though the stalwart engineers had not killed the tank, they had distracted it. While it struggled to defend itself against the infantry, the German crew failed to notice Love’s Hellcat lining up the furious panzer in its sights. Love’s gunner tripped the electric trigger. The 76mm armor-piercing round slammed into the back of the Mark IV. Fire and smoke spewed out of the dark hatches and engine openings.13
0720–0830 hours, Monday, 25 December 1944
327th Glider Infantry Regiment command post
Inside Bastogne, Belgium
Back at his command post in Bastogne, Colonel Harper was frustrated. Although only a section of his widespread line had been attacked, it was obvious that part had been completely penetrated by Maucke’s early morning daggerlike attack.
The initial, broken reports being relayed by radio were encouraging. Apparently, from what he could make out so far, the Germans had penetrated his MLR, but had not broken it. If the glidermen could take care of the enemy infantry, then the tanks would be vulnerable to antitank ambushes deeper within the perimeter. Until Major Jones reestablished contact with the rest of the 1/401st, though, Harper had no idea of what was happening on the battlefield. He was blind to the events occurring along the Hemroulle–Isle-la-Hesse road. He knew that with only bazookas, his men were vulnerable to just this type of enemy armor attack. Immediately, Harper called division HQ and requested armored reinforcements to plug the gaps.
Back at the Cave, McAuliffe was just starting to get a feel for what was happening in the northwest sector. “Mac” had to balance his trust for his subordinates. That is, to make sure they were feeding him real-time, immediate information, but also not overreacting to a situation that was still developing. After all, this could merely be part of an overall assault on the perimeter, or a feint prior to a larger attack somewhere else. McAuliffe carefully deliberated, as moving huge groups of infantry, armor, and artillery pell-mell around the perimeter could invite disaster. McAuliffe personally knew the caliber of “Bud” Harper, and because of that, he quickly granted Harper his wish. By 0735 hours, a tank and armored infantry team from Roberts’s 10th Armored Division received orders to move out and buttress the northwest flank of the Bastogne perimeter. Unfortunately, it would take some time to get there.14
0720–0858 hours, Monday, 25 December 1944
115th Panzergrenadier Regiment command post
Near Flamizoulle
Across a great distance of smoke and fog that Christmas morning, Colonel Wolfgang Maucke was sharing much of the same frustrations as Colonel Harpe
r. Maucke had also lost contact with some of his battalions. The last transmission from 1st Battalion was unintelligible, but he was able to make out that his 3rd Battalion was pinned down just west of Hemroulle. To find out what had happened to 1st Battalion, Maucke decided to send Leutnant Gaul, the regimental ordnance officer, in search of Wörner or his men. Gaul left Flamizoulle on a kettenrad tracked motorcycle and drove down the Marche road toward Isle-la-Hesse.
When the young officer pulled up near the crossroads at Isle-la-Hesse he found only Americans, who chased him off with heavy machine guns. Gaul was disturbed to see that there was no sign of his comrades in the area. He turned the kettenrad around and drove back to Flamizoulle to report to his commander. As he did, American artillery had started to pound Flamizoulle and Flamierge with high-explosive shells, disrupting German troop movements in the area, while Panzergrenadiers of 3rd Battalion, in vain, attempted to entrench in the nearby icy ground.15
At 0800 hours, Maucke finally received a communication from Dyroff and 3rd Battalion. It read, “0800 Hours… I and III Battalions stand 2.5 km west of Bastogne and encountering strong enemy resistance. The III Battalion has received heavy flanking fire from Hill 514, 505, and from the village of Hemroulle. 10th Company has occupied Hill 514 and has made no additional gains. The 11th Company, in position in front of the forest south of Hill 514, has received heavy tank and machine gun fire.”16
Now Maucke knew something was wrong. Time was running out. By 0900 the skies would clear, meaning the return of the pestilent Allied fighter-bombers. Just in case, Maucke felt he had to be prepared if the tables were to turn. He ordered his engineer platoon to establish a defensive position on Hill 510 to the southeast of Flamizoulle. If the Americans were going to counterattack, Hill 510 might be the objective, since it dominated the surrounding terrain. In addition to this, he ordered his 2nd Battalion to back up his engineers and set up another defensive position north of Flamierge. To prevent American armor forces from overrunning them, Maucke used two Pak 40 AT guns from his 2nd Battalion to cover the area east of Flamizoulle and the road leading to Bastogne. Finally, for responsive artillery support, Maucke positioned his infantry gun company southwest of Flamizoulle. Their target would be Isle-la-Hesse. If things went wrong with the attack, Maucke knew he would now, at the least, have a sturdy rallying point.
Maucke’s superior was also growing impatient with a lack of information. The abrupt manner in which Maucke had stormed off during the meeting the night before had Kokott wary of the good colonel and his determination to see this attack through. Kokott wanted to know whether panzers were inside Bastogne yet. Like most aggressive commanders, Kokott was impatient, and felt the need to pester his subordinate for constant information and updates, as if this would make a (by now somewhat) resentful Maucke work harder and faster.
But all of Kokott’s exhortations and radio calls could not move 3rd Battalion. Unknown to him, Dyroff’s Panzergrenadiers were dying. They lay defenseless in the snow while the glidermen of the 1/401st poured lead into their peppered ranks. Bullets were only part of the slaughter. The guns of the 463rd and the 377th had now zeroed in on the masses and were thoroughly decimating the ranks of the landsers. The artillery also happened to find Maucke’s headquarters, whether by chance or the skill of a clear-eyed American spotter will never be known. Regardless, several rounds slammed into it, knocking out all communications with his higher command. Maucke probably considered this a hidden blessing.17
At 0858 hours, Gaul returned from his hellish ride. He wasn’t the bearer of glad tidings. Apparently, according to the officer, Major Wörner’s 1st Battalion had been cut off. Moreover, no one in 3rd Battalion remained in contact with them. Even worse, the Americans had sealed the breach behind them. Maucke sensed that his 1st Battalion was gone, swallowed up, and all the men in it.18
0800–0830 hours, Monday, 25 December 1944
26th Volksgrenadier Division command post
Near Givry
Feeling his own pressure from von Manteuffel above, Kokott wanted answers. Any news of success would be something promising to pass on to his higher commander. He had also not heard a word from Schriefer’s 77th since they’d launched their attack on Champs earlier that morning.
What is going on with the 77th Volksgrenadier Regiment? Kokott wondered.
In the small farmhouse at the Givry crossroads, eventually Kokott’s young radio operator called out the details, adding information as it trickled in through his headset.
“Heavy fighting around Champs, to the south, penetration into the wooded sections west of Rolle. Fierce enemy counteraction.”
Kokott paced. The 77th needed to do more in order for the operation to succeed. Kokott asked the radio operator where Kunkel’s reconnaissance battalion could be.
His operator announced loudly, “Enemy counterthrusts repelled. Reconnaissance Battalion 26 continues attack in direction of Isle-la-Hesse.”
Oddly, Kokott had not even heard from the commanders of units who were playing a smaller role in the assault—units that were being used to attack other portions of the American lines to basically serve as a distraction. Evidently these operations were not having the desired impact. Why? Kokott wanted to know. Surely these units, with less on their hands, would have reported by now. “What about the 39th Fusilier Regiment?”
The operator responded, “Despite strong enemy defense and heavy losses, attack in direction of Isle-le-Pre-Halte makes slow progress.”
Kokott probably hoped for better news from the 901st Panzergrenadiers.
His operator could not oblige him, as he read the message aloud from the attached Panzer Lehr unit. “‘Own assault troops approaching—advancing west of Marvie–Bastogne road. Strong enemy defense, heavy losses on our own side, final reserves committed.’”
Meanwhile, the news was not much better with the 78th Volksgrenadier Regiment and their attack. The report stated, “Own assault troops—advancing on both sides of Bastogne–Bourcy railroad line—approaching forest exit (1,400 meters) northeast of Luzery. Strong enemy fire.”
All of these attacks were needed to fix the American forces in their respective areas in order to allow Maucke’s regiment to break through the American forces in the northwest sector. If they failed to tie down the other American forces, McAuliffe’s men, with their interior lines of communication, could rush reserves to block Colonel Maucke’s armored thrust into Bastogne. The Panzer Angriff would fail.
Once again, Kokott tried contacting the 15th Panzergrenadier Division command post to find out the status of Maucke’s attack. Finally some news, but it was a mixed answer. “Armored attack gains ground against strong enemy defense, come up close to Champs–Hemroulle road. Hemroulle and wooded sections to the north thereof held by the enemy. High losses on own side.” Kokott sensed this must be the decisive moment of the operation, when everything hung in the balance. He was wrong. As the Panzergrenadiers continued to get cut down by Allen’s men near Mande, and the tanks were continuing on, oblivious, victory was already slipping through his fingers.19
On the German gun line, the howitzers of the 26th Artillery Regiment shot salvo after salvo toward the American positions in order to support the ground forces. The main target areas were near Hemroulle, north of Hemroulle, and the roadway near Isle-la-Hesse. It mattered little. The American gunners, now using plenty of ammo, since this was obviously a major attack, pounded the German gun positions with pinpoint accuracy. The counter battery fire chewed up the earth in the areas around Champs, Grandes Fanges, Givry, Frenet, and Flamizoulle. Like Maucke, Kokott knew time was short.20
Kokott also realized that McAuliffe had far more guns—guns that could fire more accurately and were much more mobile in many respects than his own. In the war of artillery, the Americans would be the eventual winners. If he could not get into Bastogne Christmas morning, he would never get into Bastogne at all. If the Americans could hold Bastogne for another day or two, Patton would reach them.
080
0–0900 hours, Monday, 25 December 1944
1st Platoon, B Company, 705th Tank Destroyer Battalion battle position
Near Rolle Château
At 0800 hours in the morning, the fog was still thick and sunrise was still half an hour away. The blankets of fog seemed to spread in the field that stretched before the Dreve de Mande—facing Hemroulle. Sergeant George N. Schmidt of Pardeeville, Wisconsin, took advantage of the opportunity to creep along the lane unobserved and find his tank destroyer section a perfect ambush spot. Schmidt’s 1st Platoon section of B Company—his TD and that of Sergeant Adam Wans—had been called up by First Lieutenant Robert Andrews from Champs earlier that morning when the first word had spread of the German assault hitting the glidermen. Now he was going to try to do something about it.
Several feet taller than the German Mk IVs and StuG IIIs, the M18 Hellcat provided a bit more height for an observer standing in the turret. Schmidt and Wans had their drivers gun the twin M18s up from the Rolle courtyard and down the Lane of Trees before concealing themselves behind a set of ten-by-fifteen-foot haystacks. Even though Schmidt was looking down at Hemroulle from his position, due to the fog he still could not make out what was happening in the town.
He told his driver to head out into the field just southeast of the lane. The M18 rolled out about a hundred yards toward Hemroulle to get a better look. All of a sudden, Schmidt could see them rapidly poking through the fog—six or so of the Mk IV panzers and two or three of the squat little StuGs loitering around Allen’s farmhouse headquarters. The veteran tank commander decided to fire several rounds at the tanks. The gun pounded as each round fired away, but because of the poor visibility, he could not tell whether he scored any hits. Now that he had the Germans’ attention, Schmidt immediately ordered his driver to reverse the Hellcat and return to the concealed position near the haystack and trees.