Our Father's Generation

by F. M. Worden

  I gave the candy bars to the girls. Most of the guys shared their rations with the family. We got a lot of Danker-Shanes from the family. Nice people, they spoke German mostly. I got along fine with them.

  Sgt. Rocky said we were in Belgium. I had no idea where we were. We marched out on the road heading east. The snow was knee deep to a tall Indian. We went in single file on both sides of the road. A group of GI’s came up the middle of the road. A sorrier looking bunch I never saw. You could see with one eye they had had a bad time. They were almost in rags, unshaven and dragging their butts. They looked like the sad-sacks in Stars and Stripes newspaper.

  We stopped to have a little conversation. WOW, what a story they told us. The Germans had them surrounded; they had fought their way out bringing their wounded with them. They told us to watch for MP’s as the Germans had on our uniforms and were acting as Military Police. They said a bunch of our guys had been captured at a crossroads and machine gunned down. It was pure murder.

  I asked one private if he had any extra ammo. He started to load me down with two bandoleers. All the other s in our outfit started getting all kinds of ammo from these men. About that time, a jeep with a trailer came along the road giving out ammo. We got all the ammo we could carry…fragmentation hand grenades, bazooka, BAR, white-phosphorus and smoke grenades. All the machine and rifle ammo we could need. My Squad was ready.

  After loading ammo, we moved on down the road. In several miles, we met an MP outfit bringing a bunch of German prisoners. I spoke to them in German. One young solider started to tell us his troubles. They hadn’t eaten in several days and said they were glad the war was over, at least for them.

  I was never more proud to be an American that day. When I told our guys what the Jerry said about be-n hungry. Our boys started sharing our c-rations with them. You never saw such smiles and hand shake-n in your life. We gave them candy bars and smokes. I know we made a lot of friends that day.

  We continued on down the road for several miles. Our company was ordered off the road to the right into deep woods. We were put into Platoon and Squad formations. 1st and 2nd Platoons were to lead 3rd Platoon in the reserve. We had to cross a railroad track and the snow was really coming down.

  The forest was thick as hell and with the snow we moved slowly. All of a sudden, all hell broke lose. The Jerrys opened up with their terrible machine gun. If you ever heard one, it’s a sound you’ll never forget. Death lurks in its path. We all hit the ground and returned fire. I emptied my rifle and pushed in another clip.

  The fire fight stopped as soon as it started. The Germans made a hasty withdrawal. Sgt. Rocky called for us to find a hole and get our butts in one. Josh and I found a hole with two dead Germans in it. We drug them out and pulled them a few yards away. The boys had dug a good hole.

  I had never been so cold in my life, I couldn’t feel my feet. I was afraid I was getting frost bite. Just by luck we found a small stove in the hole. What luck?! Josh fired it right up. I began to feel human again. The warmth was wonderful.

  Sgt. Jimmy came over and dropped into the hole with us. “You guys trying to hog this heat?” He took off his gloves, his hands were blue. He stayed with us on and off all night. Toward morning the stove ran out of fuel.

  The CO came to our hole and asked if he could have the stove. What the heck, we had no fuel, so we gave it to him. He told us to get ready. “We are going to assault hill 490.” At least I was a little warm now. I was all ok, except I thought I had got a boil on my butt. Man-O-Man it was painful. I forgot my other miseries. I was afraid to tell anyone because I might get sent to the rear.

  We moved out about 10 a.m. and took the objective without much trouble. We were ordered to push on and close a gap between the town of Bastogne and Wiltz. This move trapped 15,000 German troops. They surrendered without a fight. They were tired and hungry, and lost the will to fight.

  That evening, we dug in again. That night turned out to be most unpleasant for me. My boil was killing me. I couldn’t sit or lay without pain.

  The next morning, lo and behold, the sun came out. What a day! We hadn’t seen the sun in two weeks. By noon, the sky was filled with our aircraft. The Air Corp was on its toes. We got all kinds of air drops, even toilet paper. Hooray!

  Our Battalion formed up back on the road. We moved back the way we had come. Some of our troops came out of the forest and joined us. One of the troops said they were the 82nd Airborne. Said they had been surrounded in Bastogne for days with no help. “The Battle of the Bulge is over,” one of them said.

  “Battle of the Bulge, what the hell you talking about? We ain’t seen no bulge,” Sgt. Rocky sounded mad. I heard him say, “We gave them Jerrys a damn good butt kicking. The 90th sure as hell got ‘em on the run.” That man had a lot of pride in that outfit.

  We had a hell of a fight to cross the Moselle River. The river had expanded to a mile wide because of flooding. I’ll tell you it took some real engineering to get us across. You got to give it to the combat engineer boys. They paved the way for us. God bless ‘em.

  Next, we had to cross the Saar River. No bridges at all. We got across on the backs of the engineers again. Once across, we captured the city of Metz and the Fort of Koenigsmacher. We were told Metz was the first time it had been captured in modern times.

  Now, we were to start the assault on the Siegfried line. Our platoon had been lucky as we hadn’t lost anyone in the fighting. A few guys had gotten sick and were sent to a hospital in the rear. I asked a private, Joel C. Stone, to see if he could find any word of my Jen. He said he would try.

  Later, the company CO came by and told us the company field mess was setting up down the road a piece and the whole company would be getting hot chow this evening. You should have heard the cheers our guys made. We had hot chow that evening, shit-on-a-shingle. Boy-O-boy was it good.

  The next morning, we were taken by trucks back where we had come from. We went into a quick rest camp. We were told we could get a shower and a change of clothing, then we’d go right back on the line, attacking the Siegfried Line.

  The hot shower was wonderful. I felt my boil, squeezed the thing and it broke open and shot stuff all over the place. The damn thing wasn’t a boil after all, just a big old ripe pimple. God, I was glad to rid myself of that thing. I had a whole new lease on life, except we had to set up pup tents.

  What a miserable way to have to sleep. The rain came in sheets and us in pup tents where a guy couldn’t roll over or even get undressed. All I took off in three nights was my galoshes. I’d get in the tent to change socks during the day out-a the rain. Worse yet, we had to eat in the rain. This whole deal was a little maddening.

  Now I was ready for the Siegfried Line or anything else the Krauts could throw at us. Little did I know what was in store for me and the 90th.

  Chapter 5

  1944 – Drive into Germany

  After the Battle of the Bulge, the 90th resumed its drive east. We had a short rest, a shower, a shave. Me, I shaved for the first time in my whole life. We got clean clothing and a renewed spirit by our Chaplain.

  Our next mission was our old one, to take the Siegfried Line, the most dreaded objective in the war. The good thing was we had help to eliminate some of the best troops the Germans had in the Ardennes. The Battle of the Bulge did that. The Siegfried Line was held by German National Guard units, mostly old men and the real young. The bad part was we were introduced to the Jerries screaming-mimis. I never heard a sound lik-em before. Thank God the rain was over and our P-47’s took out the launchers.

  The Battalion CO gave the company a talk about taking the Siegfried line. What he had to say, we knew we were in for a bad time. I didn’t really know what the Siegfried Line was. He told us it was a line of pillboxes covered by other pillboxes. Most of them were in a hundred yards of each other. “You can tell a lot where they are as fields of fire will be cleared of all trees and underbrush. The best time to move into an assault position will be just before dayli
ght. Use the darkness to your advantage.” He kept talking, “You men will have to take-em one at a time. Use a lot of smoke and cover your ass.” He didn’t have to tell us that. That came with the territory. WOW, we all knew we were in for a hard time taking those pillboxes.

  The Company Commander, Captain Will Crook, gave us a talk about how we would take on this mission. “We’ll attack by platoons. Here’s what you’re up against. The pillboxes are built, one in front, two on each side and one back a ways. They cover the flanks. A command box is further back, and it covers the two on the flanks. Men, this is a tough mission. Cover each man as he moves up. Take the apertures under fire with BAR and rifle fire, make ‘em button up. The hard part will be finding these boxes before you come under their fire. They are well camouflaged. You leaders, study the terrain well before committing your men. Try to locate all the boxes in your assigned area. We have tanks and tank destroyers to help us. Their 75s should do a good job on ‘em. We know there are places where a vehicle can’t get in close enough to bring accurate fire on ‘em. The trees and underbrush are damn heavy in places and the terrain is very hilly. In those places, you will have to do it on your own. Good luck, keep your ass down. I don’t want men killed in this operation. Now let’s get to it.”

  This little talk didn’t help my feelings one bit. Anyway, I went to the Company CO and asked if he could find out anything about my brother Tom. I told him Tom had been shot down somewhere in France flying a P47. He told me he would get Battalion on it. “Al, you’re a fine soldier and if your brother is half the man you are, he’ll be okay. The French people are looking out for our fliers. If your brother is alive and the Germans don’t have him, he’ll be just fine.”

  I thanked the Captain and returned to my platoon. He made me feel a lot better. In the morning, our platoon got its assigned area and we moved out to do the job just before it got light.

  Holy cow, when we got where the pillboxes were supposed to be, I couldn’t see anything. Sgt. Rocky was looking thru his field glasses. We were all lying down and trying to make out what we thought were the pillboxes. Sgt. Rocky came over to me. I was down behind a tree trying to be invisible. I want-a tell ya, I was scared as much as I had ever been. This forest was thick and the underbrush was thicker. You could see where fields of fire had been cleared, so we all knew we were in view of a pillbox.

  The Sgt. Asked, “Can you see the pillbox?”

  “All I can see is a mound of dirt.”

  “That’s it.” He handed me his field glasses and told me where to look. I could make out a dark place at the center and bottom of the mound of dirt. “That’s the aperture they’re watching us thru. Al, you’re the best shot in the platoon. I want you to fire at that aperture so they’ll close up. Two of us will move up on both sides and throw a grenade into the box when they open it up again. The rest of the platoon will fire at the flanking pillboxes. Ok? I’ll tell ya when to start shoot-n.” This sounded good to me. “Al, are you sure you can see where to shoot?” he asked me again.

  “Yeah,” I told him, “I got it.”

  He took off on his belly, hands and knees. I did some dry firing at my target, then pushed off the safety. I was ready.

  I watched Rocky. Soon, he was waving for me to shoot. I opened up and fired four rounds into the target. The other guys started firing, too. I saw Rocky and one of the other squad leaders jump up and run up to the mound; one on each side. Good old Rocky, he was showing the rest of us how it was to be done. All the firing stopped; then I saw the two throw grenades into the slit; it worked to perfection.

  Rocky had told the others to fire on the flanking boxes. Then, he motioned for me to come to him. I got up and ran as fast as I could and flopped down by him. He told me to call to the men inside. I yelled as loud as I could, “Cambered, war schultze nicht.” {We won’t shoot} “Come-n z-out.”

  From inside, a man called back that they would surrender and come out. I didn’t see what happened next. I guess the men inside came out the back door with their hands up in surrender fashion. The pillbox in the rear shot all four of them dead. What a shame to kill men that way. Now we were all mad as hell.

  That day, our platoon took four pillboxes and no one was even hurt. We captured two Germans. They were badly wounded. All the others were killed. Most of them were boys 14 to 16 years old. Some older men tried to give up, but the young ones shot them. How sad.

  The engineers came in and blew the boxes to smithereens so they couldn’t ever be used again. That was a day I’ll never forget. Oh, how I wished Hank was with me. Oh God, how I missed him. I always cry about missing old Hank. I just hoped he was in a better place.

  That night, I wrote a long letter home and one to Jennie. We had hot chow and plenty of hot coffee. It was strange as no one hardly talked at all. A day like this is hard to talk about. That night, I didn’t sleep too well either. I cried again over my buddy Hank, I missed him. I knew what was in store for us tomorrow.

  Before it got light, our platoon had been assigned an area to assault. The Captain told us we had done such a good job that he gave us an easy one to take this morning. He said a tank destroyer with its 75 would be ours for the day; oh joy for us!

  It was deadly quiet in the forest. Not even a bird could be seen or heard, only the wind in the trees made a sound We moved in position under the cover of the breaking light. The sky gave us a cover of clouds. I thought it might rain anytime. Sgt. Rocky studied the situation a while. Then he told the commander of the tank destroyer where it should shoot. We could see a pillbox in our front. Another was high up on a hill just back of the one to our front. We couldn’t see any on the flanks, but they were there.

  CA-WAM! WOW, what a hole the 75 made in that bunker. Three guys came running out and ran right on past us. I guess they were picked up in the rear as I never saw them again.

  Two of our guys started to go have a look when the flanking pillboxes opened up on them. They didn’t get hit at all, bad shots. Some of the German kids couldn’t shoot very well, thank God.

  Rocky had the 75 take the one on the right. CA-WAM! It blew a nice hole in the pillbox. No one returned fire from there. Next, the 75 took the one on the left. He must have hit some ammo as the whole darn pillbox blew sky high. No one could have lived through that. Next, we had to take the pillbox on the hill. The 75 couldn’t get a good shot at it, so we had to take it on our own.

  Sgt. Rocky called up a 60mm mortar squad from our heavy weapons platoon. Our boys laid down a perfect smoke screen. We moved up within fifty yards of the pillbox and waited for the smoke to clear. MY GOD, there was machine gun fire coming in every direction from that pillbox. We had a problem on our hands. We had to find the openings they were firing from and bring them under our fire. They had small slits to shoot thru. Once we found the slits, we poured a lot of BAR and rifle fire into them. That stopped their shooting at us.

  When their shooting stopped, Sgt. Jimmy ran up to the pillbox and used his Tommy gun. He fired into the slits. Soon, all was quiet. I moved up and called as loud as I could for the men inside to come out. We heard nothing. A flame thrower came up and he let go thru a slit. There was a lot of screaming and yelling coming from the inside. That’s one mean weapon. I sure wouldn’t want to be hit by a flame thrower.

  The men inside were begging to come out. I called for them to come on out. Sgt. Jimmy and I climbed on top of the pillbox. The men inside came out the back door with their hands in the air. The pillbox in the far rear started to fire on these men. With well-aimed shots, I hit the apertures where the firing was coming from, they closed up quickly. Our prisoners ducked and ran around to the front of the pillbox. These were three older men and two younger guys. They were all marched to the rear. Their time in war was over, I never saw them again.

  Now, we had to go after the command pillbox that had been shooting at us. Again, the mortar boys laid a smoke round right in the German’s lap. They put two more in front of the pillbox. That smoke blew right into the faces of
the men inside. What luck to have the wind on our side. It started to sprinkle a little.

  Little PFC J.P Niles came up with a bazooka and fired a round into one of the apertures. Boy, J.P. was getting good with that thing. The rocket must have gone right into the pillbox as we could hear a lot of yelling coming from inside. Ammo started going off inside. Poor guys.

  Rocky told me, “Get in close and tell them Jerries to surrender.” I did, to no avail. They didn’t come out.

  Rocky charged up to the roof and dropped a white phosphorus grenade down the ventilator. That started a lot more screaming and yelling. Again, I called for the men inside to come out. This time, they came out. One thing we were told not to do was ever go inside to bring prisoners out. I never saw a GI do that all the time I was fighting on the Siegfried Line. It was easy to follow orders when your life depended on it.

  I kind-a figured our day was over as we had taken these pillboxes in good time. It wasn’t. Sgt. Rocky was called to the CO’s command post for orders. The platoon hunkered down and waited.

  Rocky came back with orders for us to dig in. An observer aircraft had spotted German Infantry in force preparing to attack us. We heard that places on down the line where our guys had been pushed back with heavy German counterattacks. We sure didn’t want to give up our hard fought ground. Once is enough to take a piece of real estate. So far, we hadn’t lost a man to the enemy. One of our guys got shot by one of our own; bad luck. That’s called friendly fire; some friend, huh?

  The Jerries really gave us the works; they had artillery and mortars rain down on our position. I was glad I had dug my hole deep. They really had us zeroed in. It was as bad a barrage that I had ever been in. We had dug in around and between the pillboxes. We were told to stay out of the boxes. Now, it was raining hard. At first I though it felt good. Then I got real wet. Not so good.