We continued further north where we contacted a 502nd patrol, near Longchamps. We left our jeep and went on foot forward to see the target. It was a road running east-west, north of Longchamps. There were lots of German vehicles and troops on the road; lots of captured American vehicles, also.
As we went up the westerly road, there suddenly appeared a big Kraut tank on the east road. If it got to the town before we could get back, it would cut us off from our jeep. We ran—I mean really ran—we made it and got out of there fast.
Incidentally, the 502nd intelligence sergeant was outstanding. He looked like a high school kid but was very professional. I might add that the Germans on the road were out of range of our 75’s so we did not fire.
Having spent the night in the hayloft of a barn, attached to a good-sized house, Cpl. Walter “Putt” Murphy describes his assignment for the 20th of December:
In the morning, 1st/Sgt. Fitzgerald sent Sgt. Bob Clifford and me, with an officer up front, as FO’s. I had a radio in a jeep and was going through a field parallel with the road. We were getting artillery fire from the Krauts and two or three shells landed near us and you could hear them hit the ground. Thank God they were duds. One was not, though, and it hit a barn in back of us and set it on fire.
This forward observer team was apparently accompanying a segment of the 502nd which had been called to go to the assistance of the 1st Battalion of the 506th Regiment but had then been turned around after being notified that their help wasn’t needed. This was one of those moves the average rifleman never knew the whys and the wherefores but just plodded from one position to another. Cpl. Murphy continues his story:
At this point, we turned around and headed the other way. The infantry stopped and dug in at the base of a big hill and we went to a big white house about half way up. It was the CP. I was not getting very good reception on the radio (in the house now) so I took a piece of wire and was climbing up the side of the house (vines) when I heard someone call me. I looked down and there were a couple of GI’s with M1’s pointed at me.
I had a cap on my head and they thought I was a Kraut I did some fast talking and they backed off.
The perimeter held by the 502nd Parachute Infantry Regiment remained the quietest of them all for the first several days. Actions were restricted to patrolling out away from the front lines. There was a shifting of the front line troops.
CHAPTER 6
DECEMBER 21
Out beyond the western perimeter. Captain Robert McDonald and his Baker Company of the 401st Glider Infantry continued to discourage any moves by the enemy to push closer to Bastogne from that direction. They were still out about three to four miles west of the positions of Able and Charley Companies.
Action was beginning to pick up in the roadblock areas of Able and Charley in the Mande St. Etienne part of the perimeter.
As “B” Company, of the 327th, moved from an overnight position, near Neffe on the east side, they were hit by an artillery barrage as they passed through the western end of Bastogne. The remainder of 1st Battalion was undergoing heavy shelling in the Senonchamps area as the enemy moved in closer from that direction.
A concerted effort was on in the area between the 501st and 506th regiments where the enemy had infiltrated a force of over two hundred men so as to be a real threat to Bastogne. Elements of that enemy force were within a mile of Bastogne. The actions would involve Companies “A” and “C” of Major Bob Harwick’s 1st Battalion of the 506th with “A” Company of 1st Battalion of the 501st and, to a lesser extent, “D” and “F” of 2nd Battalion of the 506th and “D” Company of the 501st.
Over in the “E” Company area of the 501st, three of the participants have recollections for actions in the Bizory area on this day.
Service Company of the 501st Regiment is ordered to move southwest of Bastogne to get out of range of the constant shelling. A real problem develops when Service Company, along with a group from Division Recon and an armored artillery battalion are trapped by an enemy armored force.
The West Perimeter
The roadblock set up by “Baker” Company, of the 401st, became an objective of the enemy force still in the area just east of the captured field hospital site. “B” Company historian Marshall E. Griffith recorded the actions:
At 0800 on the morning of the 21st, it was ‘B’ Company’s turn to set an ambush. The prize included nine half-tracks pulling artillery pieces, plus other small vehicles. Also included in the prize were enemy dead, wounded and captured Germans.
Two other attacks were broken up at the road block that day. On the third counter-attack, one enemy tank was knocked out and one captured along with more prisoners. The company was ordered to move back three miles to the MLR. This was accomplished on our newly acquired transportation.
At daybreak on the 21st, two tanks supported by German infantry tried to outflank the “B” Company position where PFC. Carmen Gisi was positioned. These troopers managed to cripple one of the tanks and the other withdrew to safety. Gisi’s recollection of the action is as follows:
The tank was knocked out by Pvt. George Karpac. That action took place to the left of us and I wasn’t there but we all knew of this. He laid on the road and knocked the tank out with his bazooka. On the attack of the crossroads, my buddy Frank Alamovich was shot in the ear by one of our own machine guns and a few days later he was KIA.
When we searched some of the dead Germans, we found American candy and cigarettes in their pockets.
A Combat Patrol Into a Town
In an action filled with a surprising amount of detail (having written it while memories of the actions were still fresh in mind in 1946), PFC. Richard V. Bostwick was a member of “B” Company, along with S/Sgt. Roger Seamon, PFC. Carmen Gisi and PFC. Marshall Griffith. The mission of his squad was much different as Captain McDonald sent the group into an unnamed town, which the author assumes was Flamierge. Bostwick wrote this detailed account:
In the morning, Captain. Mac summoned our squad to the CP. It seemed that our squad’s number had been coming up too darned often. When there was a dirty job to be done, we were the ones to do it. Mac didn’t waste any words and we were soon preparing to go to the village on a ‘combat patrol’. This meant being prepared to fight. (A scouting patrol goes after information and avoids any encounter with the enemy.)
A light tank was assigned to us. It carried a 20mm cannon and a .50 cal. MG; additionally, an armored car with a .50 cal. MG and two jeeps were added to the array.
Our caravan started out with every man riding on one or the other vehicles. I was perched on the rear end of the tank while others clung to the front and the sides. Riding space was scarce because six men had been added to the squad. It was a rough ride as the tank lurched along the road. I suspect it was WW I surplus.
Just as we entered the outskirts of the village, the sharp staccato popping of a Kraut MG had us all in the ditches on either side of the road. The jeep that was leading our parade was hit and the driver wounded, maybe killed. He was hanging half out of the jeep on the driver’s side, some forty or fifty feet in front of me. The driver of the second jeep risked his life when he raced up alongside the disabled jeep, driving in almost a prone position, loaded the wounded man into his vehicle, made a U turn and got the hell out of there. During the rescue, there wasn’t a shot from the enemy gunners.
Blimp and 1 watched from the ditch as the tank waddled forward with its guns blasting at targets unseen by us; turning a corner, the tank was out of sight. We crawled along the ditch to the corner where the tank had left our view. There sat the monster in the middle of the roadway, blasting away at every building in sight.
As we passed in front of the house, Blimp shouted that he had seen movement through the front window. The structure was about thirty feet from the road. Blimp pulled the pin from one of his grenades and gave it a mighty heave. It hit the house and rolled back in our direction. I crawled into my helmet again. There was one helluva ‘WHAM’. Neit
her of us were scratched. We moved on.
The Krauts began lobbing mortar shells, which were exploding all over the place. I could hear the hollow ‘choonk’ sound of the shells leaving the mortar tube, indicating that the Krauts weren’t far from us. When the barrage ended, we got up and continued into the town. I could still hear the tank, somewhere in the town, firing away at wood frame buildings.
Entering a part of the town that contained a greater number of houses and buildings, we watched carefully for snipers. I fired at a cat sitting inside a window, the shot shattering the pane and probably missed the damn cat. I don’t think the echo of the rifle shot faded away when five German soldiers walked out of the house with their hands above their heads.
Blimp, using his limited knowledge of German, succeeded in having the prisoners point to one of the houses, indicating that there were troops in the basement. While others guarded the prisoners, I explained the situation to the driver of the armored car, who pulled alongside the house several feet from the basement window. The gunner in the armored car opened fire and sprayed MG bullets through the window, into the basement. After several MG bursts, I pulled the shattered window screen aside and chucked a grenade into the darkness. The explosion was deafening. The process was repeated several times. MG fire followed by a grenade. Following the explosion of my last grenade, I heard the sound of crying and a woman screaming. I ran into the house, to the head of the stairway leading to the basement and held my rifle ready as the sounds of footsteps ascended the stairs. Sgt. Watson and some of the others joined me just as an old man and three women, all civilians, appeared. Two of the women were elderly and one appeared to be about twenty years old. The old man had a terrible gash over his right eye and the skin was hanging down over the eye. My grenades had done this.
The young girl asked if we were Americans; we assured her that we were. She bawled and bawled and kissed every one of us on the cheek. The old man was attended to by the medics. They were loaded onto a vehicle and returned to our lines.
Blimp and I followed Watson to the basement, he with a flashlight that threw about as much light as a match. Groping in the semi-darkness, we found an opening in a concrete wall that led into a room that measured approximately 12 × 12. I suggested throwing a grenade in before entering but Watson didn’t like the idea.
Watson had guts. He entered the room with that stupid flashlight throwing a feeble glow before him. Suddenly, the light fell upon a German uniform. It was incredible. There were seven others, fully armed, standing with their backs to the wall, standing in the darkness, with their hands over their heads.
The prisoners were herded outside without incident. We lined them up and searched each one. Watson was the smart one, he picked out the officer and relieved him of his Luger. For my part, I got a P-38, 9mm pistol and a small Belgian hand gun, as well as binoculars. One Kraut objected when I took a rosary from him. He repeated, ‘Mutter, Mutter.’ I returned the rosary to him.
We had been in the village several hours. Our tank had run out of gas and had used up its ammunition. A phosphorus bomb was placed in the tank’s engine to immobilize it.
Blimp had returned inside the house and had gone upstairs when he called, excitedly, for me to join him. When I reached him, he pointed out of the window where we saw a wide skirmish line of Krauts approaching the village from the opposite side from which we had entered. Using the binoculars taken from the prisoner, I could see that they were enemy and they were well armed. We spread the alarm. When viewing the surrounding terrain, I spotted a truck, some 500 yards away in a small grove of trees, unloading more Germans. I hollered down to the armored car driver and pointed in the direction of the truck. The gunner attempted to bring his cannon around to fire but the turret had frozen solid.
Watson ordered the armored car to shuttle as many men as it would hold back to our lines. In the meantime, the prisoners were herded into the stable attached to the house. While in the stable, I stood between two horses and was surprised at the heat given off from their bodies. It was a bitterly cold day. From my position, I could see out through a small rear window. Now and then, a German would be seen running across the open ground some distance from where we were
The armored car returned for another load. It had encountered small arms fire during the round trip but no damage done; taking on another load, it was gone. Mortar fire began falling on our position.
The armored car returned for another load. It would be the last one because enemy rifle fire was very heavy and mortar shells were tearing chunks out of the buildings. It was a possibility, and a damn good one, that we would be taken by the Krauts. A sniper killed one of our men. Time had run out. Time to go. I discarded everything I had taken from the prisoners except the hand guns.
We prepared to make a run for it. I ordered the prisoners to line up in a column of two’s. They didn’t understand. I physically stood two of them side by side and motioned for the others to fall in behind in like manner and then they understood. The Krauts were stepping up the tempo of their attack and it was a matter of grave concern.
They were still several blocks away. Houses and buildings obscured the view and they were not yet in position to fire directly at us.
This was it. A half dozen of us, together with the armored car and twelve prisoners, made a run for it. We ran and ran. The crossfire was murderous. Tracer bullets cut red patterns all around us, some bounced off the armored car. Mortar shells exploded both in front and behind us. One soldier made the mistake of climbing atop the vehicle. A single bullet through his head and he toppled without a sound into the ditch. One of the prisoners was shot through the jaw; he didn’t make a fuss, just kept on running.
After running the longest three miles of our lives, we literally stumbled into the company area. The prisoners were turned over to the Captain. I had to dig a new hole because of the change in the company perimeter defense. Blimp and I collaborated and dug a two man hole overlooking the ground that sloped away toward the village we had so hastily departed. The Krauts hadn’t followed us but we remained on alert. Gathering straw from a nearby barn, Blimp and I made our hole as comfortable as we could. The experience of the day left me limp. Blimp kept on the lookout and I dozed.
The weather worsened on the 21st, with the temperature dropping sharply. There was a feeling of snow in the air. Over on the “C” Company perimeter, S/Sgt. Robert Bowen was in the company CP when he got an order to provide support for another unit. He wrote:
I went to the company CP in the early morning. Captain Towns told me to take a squad of men and support ‘A’ Company, which held a roadblock near the hamlet of Mande St. Etienne. There were about a dozen houses around a courtyard in the hamlet and one on the main road between ‘C’ Company and Bastogne. I withdrew Felkner’s squad, spread Leamon’s and Hans’ to cover their spot and headed for the roadblock. ‘A’ Company had two squads dug in around a big stone house and barn with a machine gun covering the road. Their left flank was vulnerable so I put Felkner’s men there, dug in around the base of a row of great fir trees with a 180 degree field of fire. As I headed back to my CP, snow began to fall.
Time passed slowly. The snow came down faster, covering the ground with its whiteness and the chill wind whipped it into drifts. Many of the troops had no overcoats or overshoes and were protecting themselves from the bitter cold with blankets and shelter halves. Bowen had his men disassemble their weapons and remove all the oil as the weapons began to freeze up.
Team O’Hara Strong Point
Actions at the Team O’Hara roadblock would have a bearing on members of “C” Company of 1st Battalion as they passed just to the north of this position on the morning of December 21st. As a member of a small twenty-man group which had been left behind when 1st Battalion of the 501st had headed east through Bastogne on toward Neffe, PFC. Donald L. Woodland and others had come as far as Mande St. Etienne without weapons. He was now at a strong point with Team O’Hara not far south of the positions occupied b
y 1st Battalion. He had just been briefed about a tank assault on some Germans by Sgt. Lester Wynick, another member of his group; then the position came under an artillery barrage. Woodland related how the two controlled troops from abandoning positions.
Sgt. Wynick now came over to the position and began to brief me about the tank assault. He said that they came out of the fog and surprised some German vehicles, which they promptly shot up. They all got back except for the tank that became stuck in the mud. Suddenly, our front line position came under rapid and intense artillery fire. This unnerved some of the stragglers that were occupying part of the line. Some yelled in panic-filled voices, ‘The Germans are attacking!’ A few of the men climbed out of their foxholes, abandoning their weapons. Sgt. Wynick and I instantly sized up the situation and we drew our pistols. Wynick ran to the right and I ran to the left towards the men, urging and forcing them back into the line and to man the guns to beat off any German infantry attack.
Then I remembered the machine gun that had been overhauled that morning and decided to put it into position to be able to fire down the road. The location selected was on the left side of the small stone building (most likely used as a field tool storage shed.) Blackie and I were setting up the gun when Lt. Jones came running up. He said to us, ‘Very good!’ and then he ran around the stone shed to his right to check the line. The next salvo of artillery fire found him exposed and he was mortally wounded. I rolled over and around the building and Lt. Jones was lying on the ground, face down. I saw his Colt with the lucite grips and the picture of his loved ones.
Battered Bastards of Bastogne Page 24