Battered Bastards of Bastogne

by George Koskimaki

  Blessing’s glider was one of eleven winging to Bastogne. In the mist ahead, several gliders flew with surgeons and aid men, jeeps filled with litters, surgical kits, ether and other medical supplies. These gliders landed before the Germans encircling the division caught on that gliders were coming in.

  During the same December 26th operation in which Captain Raymond H. Ottoman towed 1Lt. Charleton W. Corwin, Jr. with his glider load of surgeons and medical assistants to Bastogne, another group of gliders was winging its way to the same landing zone from another airfield in France. An account of their actions is described in the 440th Troop Carrier Group History:

  At about the same time that the first lone glider and tug were winging their way toward Bastogne, a second group of ten aircraft and ten gliders loaded with 2,975 gallons of 80-octane gas had taken off from Orleans at 1500 and were on their way in. Taking advantage of the early winter dusk, they flew in low over the enemy lines. However, the Germans had been alerted by the earlier plane and glider and they threw up a screen of small arms and machine gun fire at the formation from positions along a railroad about two miles from the town.

  In spite of the fire, the tow planes held on course, cutting off the gliders directly over the landing zone at 17:20. The altitude at cut-off was approximately 600 feet.

  As the glider pilots swung into their patterns and dove for the comparative safety of the ground, the tow ships pushed their engines to the limit and hedge-hopped out of the area, still followed by enemy fire.

  Although the glider-borne gasoline took care of the most urgent need, the general supply situation was still inadequate. Troop carrier planes took off from bases in the United Kingdom and flew on instruments to carry 320 tons of food, clothing and ammunition into Bastogne. This material was put to immediate use by the 101st and other units.148

  During periods of emotion and stress, the human body seems to reach back and provide for the moment when one needs extra strength. Such was the experience of PFC. Kenneth Hesler of “D” Battery of the 463rd Parachute Field Artillery Battalion when he was nearby to offer assistance at the glider landing fields. He wrote:

  A medical supply glider landing in the open near the FO with incoming mortar fire in the area and being told, along with others, to get it unloaded and never before or after, lifting such heavy objects alone or carrying them to cover with such dispatch.

  During the same day, other planes dropped bundles from bomb racks and equipment handlers pushed four or five bundles out through open doorways. A bundle sometimes strayed into an open area between the lines. These were contested for by the adversaries. Recovery of bundles was like finding Christmas presents—if you didn’t understand the color-coded parachutes, one might be surprised as to what the heavy padded canvas container held in store. Pvt. Mike Zorich was on hand to get to a wayward bundle. He has this recollection:

  Not too long after that, the skies opened up and the C-47’s came over in formation, dropping huge bundles with parachutes. One bundle came down right in front of us, ready to land in German-held woods. A couple of the men and I decided to attack the woods, knowing that the Germans would be excited to see some crazy guys running across the snow toward them. They managed to get away and we sort of ‘captured’ this big bundle that dropped from the sky. Quickly, we opened it with our knives only to find hundreds and hundreds of packs of Old Gold cigarettes! That was something to remember. There weren’t any medical supplies, ammo, or food—just Old Gold cigarettes! When we got back to the lines, we really caught hell from the C.O. and Sergeant Houston.

  Delayed Glider Flights

  Other gliders had been scheduled for tow to Bastogne from the air base at Chateaudun on the 26th but the weather conditions were poor. A veteran of three glider missions behind enemy lines, Flight officer Case Rafter made his only flight in support of the 101st Airborne Division at Bastogne on December 27th after a delay of one day. His first recollection is of a group of paratroopers from the 17th Airborne Division. They had been flown to France from their bases in England and were scheduled to move to the front shortly. Rafter wrote:

  After Christmas, 1944 and before New Year’s, evidence of the Battle of the Bulge began to be seen at our Field. One group of paratroopers in planes had stayed overnight They were heading for the front and the idea was to have them sleep in the C-47’s down at the field. Most of the glider pilots and power pilots and enlisted men went down to the planes and invited the paratroopers up to sleep in our warm tents. The troopers were glad to do this and also appreciated the drinks that were handed around as there was plenty of liquor in the camp after the liquor ration had been started.

  101st Division command post personnel watch as resupply planes drop bundles on December 26. The antennae extending above the trees are part of the radio equipment of the 101st Airborne Signal Company. (Krochka photo)

  After the paratroopers had gone on, all the glider pilots were called out to the company street and informed that an airborne division had been surrounded by Germans and that they had to be resupplied from the air by gliders. Captain John Neary, our immediate commander, called out the names of the pilots who had volunteered to go on this mission. As I had only flown one mission, that to Holland, I was one of the volunteers and, in general, it was considered fair to even up the missions so those of us who had only one mission were sure to go into Bastogne. We went down to the flight line where the gliders had been loaded and lined up with the 91st Squadron first and the 94th last. I dressed in officer’s shirt and trousers and with winter flying gear, which was leather with a wool interior and very warm and comfortable. I went down to the plane and got into the seat of the glider to which I had been assigned. This glider was filled with 155mm ammunition. I asked the men who had packed the glider if it would explode if it were hit. One said ‘yes’ and the other said ‘no’ and explained that he had stored all the detonating devices near the tail. This was very encouraging because the detonation—if it went off, would not set off the ammunition. On the other hand, it occurred to me that it would not have a very beneficial effect on the way the glider would fly. Since there was not very much I could do about it, I merely climbed into the glider, fastened the seat belt and my friends who had accompanied me from the tent—Horace Saunders, John Schumacher and Reggie—helped me to place a flak suit over my winter flying gear. At this point in the proceedings, I felt a cold breath of air in the rear and found that my shirt tail had come out. Nothing could be done about this and it was at this time that Schumacher said to me, ‘Whatever you do, Rafter, don’t let the Germans capture you. ‘Thinking that he had some inside information on Germans treating glider pilots as ‘franc tireurers,’ I asked him why I particularly shouldn’t allow the Germans to capture me. He replied that, ‘if the Germans get you, they’ll know we’re at the bottom of the barrel.’ This was an encouraging remark for my takeoff but, actually, I thought it was pretty funny and remember it to this day.

  The day that we had been selected and sent down to take off on the mission into Bastogne, a freezing rain was falling which turned ice on the gliders and on the planes. We had already had one plane, which had not been properly maintained, dive into the ground just outside Chateau-dun and it was decided that, due to the weather conditions, it was impossible to fly the mission that day.

  Contact with the Armor

  The men of PFC. Harry Sherrard’s platoon were in position a short distance from the enemy-held concrete pillbox which was about a hundred yards south and east of their foxholes and on the secondary road that led north from Neufchateau past Assenois and Clochimont. Help arrived to push the enemy out of the positions to the south and east of the “A” Company positions. Sherrard wrote:

  The next morning things were pretty quiet. However, the Krauts still held the pillbox and the woods. Then a squad or platoon from ‘C’ Company (326th Engineers) came up behind us to help clean out the area. We fired and kept the pillbox covered until they advanced beyond our positions and routed out six Krauts from
that position.

  On the 26th of December, General George Patton’s troops had reached the small hamlet of Clochimont. It was another clear day for air support and there were enemy aircraft overhead as noted in the diary entry of T/3 George Koskimaki positioned at Division Headquarters where he listened for messages from the approaching armor. Koskimaki noted:

  December 26, 1944—We had another clear day for air support. German fighters were up this morning and our planes shot down two of them. I watched one particular ME-109 lose its wings directly over our heads. Its momentum carried it well beyond our area where it crashed in flames. I saw no parachute. Another resupply was dropped. The 4th Armored Division is only two kilometers away this afternoon. I picked up a radio message asking our troops to be on the lookout for their advance elements.

  The following item is from a copy of a letter which was written by 2Lt.Charles Boggess, commander of “C” Company of the 37th Armored Tank Battalion of the 4th Armored Division. A short time earlier, he had received a battlefield promotion. Boggess describes the approach and contact with the defenders of Bastogne. He mounted the tank of his battalion commander, LTC. Creighton Abrams, for his instructions:

  I mounted his tank that afternoon and we studied a well-worn battle map. He decided that ‘C’ Company would take a little known secondary road leading from Clochimont, through Assenois to Bastogne, a distance of approximately 3-1/2 miles. He explained that there had been no recon work done on the road, but it was known that all this area was held by the enemy. If we could get through on this road, it might work well for a surprise attack. He gave me his familiar short and explicit order, which was simply, ‘Get to those men in Bastogne.’

  I called Lt. Wrolson and the seven tank sergeant commanders together, and the following plan was employed: As company commander, I would be in the lead tank (Cobra King) and I would set the speed of the attack—I would fire straight ahead. Lt. Wrolson would be in the second tank firing to the right, the following tank to the left—and so on down. Each man was given the route and the objective—each tank was to continue the attack to the last tank, if necessary, and with that, we were ready. Colonel Abrams gave us the familiar hand signal and we started to roll toward Bastogne.

  It isn’t possible for me to remember the names of all 45 men who made that run. My own tank crew consisted of Hubert J. J. Smith—driver, Milton Dickerman—gunner, Harold Hafner—bog gunner and James G. Murphy—loader—all battle proven veterans. I was told later that Company ‘C’ carried a 46th man with them on the run. One soldier returning from the hospital, on a supply truck, jumped off, ran, caught the last tank and managed to wedge himself in it. Where they found room inside a tank for him, I’ll never know. I guess he just got there in time to see his company moving out and didn’t intend to be left behind—such was the spirit of the 4th Armored man.

  We moved at full speed, pumping heavy fire straight ahead and to the right and left of the road. As soon as my tank cleared Clochimont, I called for artillery fire on Assenois—almost immediately, the town seemed to erupt. Following directly behind our tanks was Captain Bill Dwight of the 37th Tank S-3 and the 53rd Armored Infantry. Still maintaining fire and speed, the column neared Assenois and I called Battalion for them to raise the artillery fire 200 yards. Due to the speed of the tanks and the time lapse of getting the command to the gun crews—our tanks entered Assenois under our own artillery fire. This allowed the momentum of the attack to continue. After clearing the town, the first four tanks ran into enemy resistance coming from both sides of the road. The other five tanks, along with Captain Dwight, were slowed briefly because of the resistance. Teller mines were thrown in the path of our oncoming tanks and half-tracks. Captain Dwight dismounted and personally directed the clearing of the road, thus allowing the five ‘C’ Company tanks to get through. Mopping up operations were continued in Assenois by the 53rd Armored Infantry.

  I saw a large pillbox ahead and ordered Dickerman to throw several rounds into it—it was demolished. I saw the enemy in confusion on both sides of the road. Obviously, they were surprised by an entry of this road, as some were standing in a chow line. They fell like dominoes. As we cleared the woods, we came upon a small, open field, where we saw multicolored parachutes—these had been recently used to drop supplies of food and ammo to the 101st Airborne Division. This meant that we were near the line defending the town. I slowed the tanks down and we cautiously approached what seemed to be a line of foxholes, spaced about 50 feet apart. Out of each hole, a machine gun was leveled at my tank, with a helmeted figure behind each gun.

  MAP 16—Breakthrough by 4th Armd

  The men of the 101st knew full well that the enemy had been using American uniforms and equipment during the past few weeks and they were taking no chances. I called out to them, ‘Come on out, this is the 4th Armored!,’ but no one moved. I called again and again and finally, an officer emerged from the nearest foxhole and approached the tank. He reached up a hand, and with a smile said, ‘I’m Lt. (Duane) Webster of the 326th Engineers, 101st Airborne Division—Glad to see you!’ He was no more glad to see me than I was glad to see him! As I shook his hand, I knew that Company ‘C’ of the 37th Tank Battalion, 4th Armored, 3rd Army, had broken through the bulge and that the siege of Bastogne was over.

  A few minutes later, Captain Dwight and Colonel Abrams met General McAuliffe. All nine tanks, with their crew of 45 (or 46) men, had made the drive successfully and Patton had missed his boast by only a few hours—his 3rd Army was in Bastogne. Time—1640.149

  The small concrete pillbox southwest of Bastogne serves as a memorial to Lt. Charles Boggess and his men and the troops of the 326th Airborne Engineer Battalion through whose defenses the 4th Armored Division entered Bastogne on the afternoon of December 26, 1944.

  The machine gun outpost position of PFC. Harry Sherrard happened to be in the location of the actual link-up with the armored troops fighting their way to Bastogne from the south. Sherrard describes the action leading up to the meeting of the two forces:

  The next real excitement in this sector came on the day the 4th Armored came through Assenois to our lines. Our CP had apparently been in touch with them because we knew they were the cause of all the noise in Assenois on the other side of the woods about mid-afternoon. Besides, Lt. Webster was in one of the foxholes close behind our position. Late afternoon or early evening, just before dark, we saw the half-tracks and a tank or two coming up the slight hill with their .50’s blazing and lighting up the snow around us. We just hoped they saw us in time to shut it off. They even took a couple shots with the 75’s at the little guard house-pillbox to our left front. Then they stopped right by our hole and yelled that ‘All is OK!’

  That night, we ate their ‘C’ rations, drank some of their wine, had a bonfire and thought that maybe I should write home so my mom wouldn’t have to worry about me. (She saved that letter for me.)

  An Uncovered Liquor Cache

  Bastogne was bombed for the first time on Christmas Eve and the second time at 0300 on Christmas morning. The contents of buildings and basements were exposed to the elements and to opportunists.

  Several soldiers recalled that the explosion of a bomb had ruptured the wall of a building revealing a hidden storehouse of wine, beer and liquor.

  Sgt. Arthur Parker, a member of an artillery survey team, happened to make a big find the day after Christmas that would help make the holiday season a bit merrier. He wrote:

  The day after Christmas I found a tavern in Bastogne that had been bombed. I found I could get into the basement where I located a full barrel of beer and it was a big one. I managed to get it out of the cellar and started rolling it back to Savy. I knew that I could not get it back there by rolling it so scouted around and found a manure wheelbarrow and got the barrel aboard and pushed it right by Division HQ and back to our area. I set the beer barrel in the kitchen of the Battalion HQ and asked Colonel Elkins if I could get a jeep to go back and get a spigot so we could tap the beer. I a
lso told him I could get some whiskey that was in the tavern. He gave the use of a jeep and I went back to Bastogne in style. I found about a dozen bottles of booze and a spigot and headed back to Savy. Colonel Elkins confiscated the booze for the officers but said the enlisted men could have the beer.

  Pvt. Albert Gramme of the same battalion remembered that men of his battery “rescued” some beer and liquor and surprised one of the glider pilots who had just flown through heavy flak and machine gun fire to bring relief to the beleaguered troops at Bastogne. He wrote:

  Prior to the arrival of the gliders, some of us had gone into town and rescued a keg of beer and returned with it to our gun positions on the perimeter. As the gliders were landing, we were standing around drinking some beer. One of the gliders landed near us, smashed through some fences and came to a hard stop in the grove of trees where our guns were positioned. The pilot, slightly hurt and not knowing exactly where he was, staggered out of his glider, pistol in hand, looking for trouble. We immediately offered him a mess cup of beer. I’ll never forget the look on his face. He had just flown over a hundred miles to bring supplies through enemy flak and machine gun fire, landed in unknown territory and remembering all the horror stories he had heard about how desperate we were and now, there we were, standing around drinking beer.