Battered Bastards of Bastogne

by George Koskimaki

  The attack on Bourcy was scheduled to jump off at 0830. It was being preceded by a thunderous artillery barrage. Captain Smith was supposed to move his troops forward at 0830 and he was becoming extremely nervous wondering if the barrage would let up so the shells wouldn’t land on his advancing troops. Pvt. Alden Todd continues his story:

  Suddenly he shouted at me in that thunderous tone of voice for which he was well known: Todd! Tell them to lift the artillery. Stop the artillery!’

  Obediently, I called into the radio mouthpiece: ‘Captain Smith says to lift the artillery!’ A second later, thinking that perhaps the word ‘lift’ had not carried clearly by radio, I repeated the message, using every useful word that came to my mind: ‘Stop the barrage—Do not fire any longer!’

  Eight-thirty—a whistle sounded, the signal for the attack. Suddenly, the thundering shells stopped falling. Silence.

  With some apprehension, not having any idea of what might happen, we crossed the ridge, every man now being an excellent target for the enemy in Bourcy, if he wanted to take aim at us. We moved forward in a strange silence, sinking deep into the snow, moving downhill toward the village. Then Captain Smith and his neophyte radio operator found a track in the snow made by a German Tiger tank that had gone up our hill a couple days earlier and then back toward Bourcy. The Tiger, with its great weight, had flattened the snow so as to form two perfect walkways, each one about two feet wide. Smith, being the commanding officer, took the left-hand path to make it easier to cross this enemy terrain. The radio operator, who, of course, had to stay near the captain, took the right-hand track. Then several other men in the company, seeing how easily we got out of the deep snow, fell in line behind us in the two Tiger tracks—and then the captain saw them.

  ‘Get out of those tracks!’ he shouted in his angry ‘whisper’. ‘You are a perfect target!’ Of course, he was right. The other men, somewhat annoyed, spread out to the right and left in the snow, moving forward with difficulty, one heavy step following the other. Fortunately, there was not a single rifle or machine gun shot from the direction of Bourcy—at least, not so far.198

  PFC. Robert T. Harrison was in on the same action as a member of the 3rd Battalion Headquarters Company. He remembers it was a real struggle through the snow. It was tough on the “ole man” of his unit. Harrison describes the action:

  After we were relieved, we went on the offensive and moved up the highway. Bastogne was on our right and before we were to kick off, Captain Frank Lillyman asked me to cover a machine gun in a tank but I wasn’t too happy to get in that thing so Chuck Clites took it. They were short a gunner. We had a man in our outfit, one of the first to go through jump school. His name was Nick Vignovich. He was much older than most of us. We called him ‘the ole man’ or ‘Dad’. I think he was about 32 years old. We had to cross a field one at a time. It was open and the snow was pretty deep. When my turn came, I got out in the middle of the field. Nick was lying there and couldn’t go anymore so I got him up, took his equipment and got him over and under cover just in time for we were on the receiving end of another artillery barrage.

  T/5 Richard J. Kazinski was a member of a bazooka team with 2nd Battalion Headquarters Company of the 502nd Regiment. He was in on the attack toward Bourcy and remembered some large enemy tanks facing his position and being told by a tanker to forget about making an attempt to stop one of them with his bazooka. Kazinski wrote:

  One morning I remember, we were to attack a town in a valley. As we approached the top of the hill, we saw five Tiger Royals waiting for us. Our Sherman tanks were no match for them. Our tank shells bounced off the Royals like ping-pong balls. It was quite a show when the Air Corps came in to take care of them. We had front row seats for the performance.

  I remember the tanker who gave me a pair of gloves and a word of advice—‘Take your bazooka and get your ass the hell away from that tank,’ for he knew that neither he nor I stood a chance against the Tiger Royal.

  Out of small arms range, one of the Division Artillery Piper Cub L-4 planes was observing the battles for Bourcy and Rachamps, looking for enemy tanks and hidden artillery positions. The pilot, 1Lt. George Schoeneck and his aerial observer were shot down when their plane ran into the path of a friendly artillery shell reportedly fired by one of the units moving down from the north to close the gap. The explosion blew the small plane and its occupants from the sky.

  When the troops arrived in Bourcy, they found the enemy was gone. The few civilians who peeked furtively from the doorways informed the paratroopers that the enemy left the night before. The enemy artillery fire had been directed at the advancing troops from beyond the confines of the small village.

  Mopping Up In Rachamps

  After the seizure of Noville had occurred, S/Sgt. John H. Taylor had one more action that his group was to perform before they could be relieved of their combat duties on the Bastogne front. He related:

  About noon the next day, we moved out some distance along the main road to Noville and did a right flank and attacked up a slope, a snowcovered hill to a little village called Rachamps. This little village couldn’t be seen from the slope as the town was a half mile away and on the reverse side of the slope. We drew mortar and artillery fire, not heavy but scattered. We moved up toward the village, formed a little bit to the right and hit the road that led into the village. As we were moving into the village, I heard a shell coming. It was coming close. We hit the ditch. The shell hit up on the head-high bank among the trees which lined the road. We were showered with snow and broken tree limbs. It scared the daylights out of us.

  The final days of the Bastogne campaign had to be fought through the heavy snow. In some open areas the snow lay almost two feet deep. (Photo from collection of Richard Winters.)

  Sgt. Louis Truax of “Dog” Company remembered they had some shelling on the attack into Rachamps and again he lost a few close buddies. He wrote:

  After Noville, we moved up the road toward Houffalize. I think Meehan, Blankenship, Werbela and Van Every were with me. Slightly below us, about 300 to 400 yards, was the village of Rachamps. Just then an American tank destroyer, located back on the road behind us, put a 90mm shell through the church steeple. First 90mm I’d seen or heard. Much better than 75’s. Lying prone on top of a spud cellar, I could see all kinds of Kraut tanks and infantry going up a hill behind Rachamps. I could hear incoming 88’s landing behind me. Some of them must have killed Blankenship and Sherbon. We saw Krauts entering the town. We opened fire and then shifted to a ridge farther away. The company moved around to the left and the town was ours.

  Among the first to enter Rachamps from his unit, Sgt. Duane L. Tedrick was posted with his Browning Automatic Rifle. He wrote:

  I was the first man into Rachamps from Company ‘D’ and remained on the edge of the town covering our right flank with the BAR as the company attacked through the town. A German tank came up over a ridge to my right and traversed its gun toward the house I was in and I turned to get into the basement and that is all I remember until I regained consciousness in the company CP. Joe Powers found me walking down one of the streets dragging my BAR by the barrel. Someone said the tank fired and the shell went through the door and hit the kitchen stove. So you can say my stay in Bastogne ended with a bang. I was not wounded but had a black and blue belly and thighs for a while.

  Returning to platoon sergeant John H. Taylor’s story, he was now entering the village. He relates:

  We took off on the double into the village. We got some mortar fire in there—hardly any small arms. We were moving down the street. A civilian—a man—ran out from somewhere into the street, hollering ‘Bosche!’ and pointing to a house where we got four or five Germans out of there in a cellar. We moved on into the town and were still drawing some fire from east of Rachamps and I believe Captain Dick Winters, now with Battalion, came up saying, ‘Bring your men and come with me.’ I remember Lt. Robertson and our 2nd Platoon and some other people took off back up the street,
now knowing what was taking place. We left this road and went on to some open ground about five or six hundred yards back. There were some heavy woods on the left side and quite a few troops were approaching from that direction toward us. We could not tell if they were friend or foe—not from that distance. I guess this is what Dick Winters got word of. We positioned some machine guns and set off smoke. They kept coming toward us. We soon realized it was some of our people. They suddenly did a flanking movement toward the woods on their right. Quite a few Germans came running out of the woods with their hands in the air and gave themselves up.

  This was taken care of and it had quieted down some. Got ourselves set up for the night. Our platoon CP was in a barn which was set up as a typical rural building with a barn and house attached on our edge of the small village and had our positions set up on the crest of a little rise or ridge and it was still bitter cold. That night we dug in, got our OP’s out.

  The move to take Rachamps was rather easy for “E” Company as described by 1st/Sgt. Carwood Lipton, who had led his platoon successfully in his first effort after having been assigned as platoon leader by the new company commander, 1Lt Ronald Speirs. Lipton wrote:

  We had one more attack, though, and that was to take the town of Rachamps, east of the road and north of Noville. Rachamps was in a valley with the ground covered with snow, sloping gently down to it from all sides, giving an effect similar to attacking from the rim of a saucer toward its center. That attack was next day and we moved in a widespread attack formation so that artillery and small arms fire and the white phosphorus shells the Germans threw at us on the way in, would have minimal effect. We didn’t have a man hit. The town was quickly cleared. The Bastogne campaign was over for us.

  Williamson and His “Ace” Troops

  As the morning of January 16 dawned, S/Sgt Jack Williamson was sure he and his men would be called on to lead another attack. He didn’t think it would be possible to come out of that mess alive. He got another surprise:

  The next morning the lieutenant ordered me to report to him. I was sure he was gonna order me to lead another attack but I had just about given up ever getting out of that mess. To my surprise, he told me ‘Get what troops you have left, leave and go back to the rear.’ We did, just as fast as we could shuffle. We slept that night in the woods, on the ice and snow. That was cold, cold, cold! My time in Bastogne was over. I was alive. I had walked through hell with my eyes open to the Lord.199

  Anticipated!

  When the 327th troops arrived late at the line of departure for the first attack on the 13th, General Taylor had threatened to fine each of the company officers a hundred dollars if they did not reach the objective by 1630 that day. 200 Captain Walter Miller had stated earlier that “Ace” Company had been lost in the thick woods because the men sent to direct them were unfamiliar with the ground. After the attack was completed three days later, Miller was ordered to report to the commanding general. Miller describes the brief meeting:

  Following the last attack, I was called before General Taylor to explain the delay (our late arrival for the Bois Jacques attack). I told him we got lost. His answer was, ‘You should have anticipated that!’ End of conversation.

  CCB Returns to the 10th Armored Division

  After serving beside the 101st Airborne Division almost a month, Combat Command B was ordered to return to the 10th Armored Division. The two units had worked well together as a cohesive unit along with the members of the 705th Tank Destroyer Battalion.

  Throughout the hundreds of responses received for this account from the veterans of the 101st Division, a common thread ran through them with praise for the men of CCB and the 705th TD’s. To a man the Screaming Eagles felt the achievements at Bastogne were the result of team effort.

  As his troops moved to the south, CCB commander Colonel William L. Roberts had this final message for the commanders and troops of the 101st Division.

  For nearly a month CCB, 10th Armored Division, has been associated with your fine division in an action which may become historic. After the first two days this unit was attached to your division. In behalf of the officers and men of CCB, I wish to inform you that it has been a pleasure to serve with the splendid corps of officers and with the fine fighting men of the 101st and, if ever in the future there is a choice of divisions to fight with, we choose the 101st and in turn we hope that CCB may be again associated with you and your division.

  Your General Staff and your Special Staff have been generous, fair and solicitous in all matters. They have made my troops feel as if they belonged to the 101st instead of being the usual attached orphans. Your regimental and battalion commanders and my team commanders have worked together with a singleness of purpose that is seldom attained and is only possible where there is wholehearted cooperation on both sides. Many of our enlisted men have expressed the highest admiration of your soldiers and a willingness to go along with them anywhere the going is tough.201

  EPILOGUE

  January 17

  The troops of the 101st Division were informed on the previous afternoon that tankers of the 11th Armored Division driving up from the southern end of the bulge had met armored units and infantrymen of the 2nd Armored Division fighting their way down from the north. The 101st troops at Bourcy, Rachamps and Marigny had a rather easy night of it in the barns and houses out of the cold foxholes—except for those who did their stints out on the observation posts.

  Dawn of January 17 brought a pleasant surprise for S/Sgt. John H. Taylor as he stood at the barn door enjoying the last part of a cigarette. He had just sent one of the men back to notify the company CP that he had pulled in his OP’s if it became necessary to fire artillery to their front. Taylor relates:202

  Early the next morning as dawn was breaking, I sent Shaefer back to the company CP to let them know we had moved our OP’s in so if we needed artillery fire they could drop it in front of us without fear of hitting our men on the OP’s. If we were gonna get an attack it would be at daybreak. I had one-half of a cigarette, standing in the barn door, looking back up the street into the village. I was smoking this last butt when a door opened and I looked around at the house attached to the same barn. A little old lady came over to me and gave me some bread and a wooden bowl of hot milk. I certainly welcomed that. I’ve never forgotten.

  The notation in T/3 George Koskimaki’s diary has a terse summary of the day’s actions:

  January 17, 1944—The Division is being relieved today. We are to go into Corps reserve somewhere to the rear. It is cold and snowy. Our regiments captured Bourcy before they were relieved.

  Platoon sergeant John Taylor remembered how his battalion was relieved without too much warning. He closed his taped narrative with this comment:

  That night without too much forewarning, we were relieved around ten or eleven o’clock. It was the 17th Airborne Division people who came up and relieved us. We retraced our steps through Noville and the area where we had dug the deep holes a week or so before. We spent the night there. We got word—would you believe—we were going to be trucked out of Bastogne!

  On this day, 1st/Sgt. Carwood Lipton reverted back to his former assignment in “Easy” Company headquarters. He closed his Bastogne experiences with this story:

  I went back to company headquarters as first sergeant and we moved into a convent or girl’s school, our first stay inside a building since we arrived at Bastogne, to await being relieved. In our first night there, the nuns and teachers brought a group of girls, who were about twelve or thirteen years old, into the large hall where we were. They sang a serenade for us, including their French and Belgian songs. Several were sung in English and, surprisingly, they sang the German marching song, ‘Lili Marlene’.

  Awards Ceremony

  On the 18th of January in a ceremony in front of the shattered city hall of Bastogne, General Maxwell D. Taylor turned over to Lt. General Troy Middleton, commander of VIII Corps, the shattered remains of Bastogne and its perimeter defen
se network.

  At the time the 101st Airborne Division history, Rendezvous with Destiny was published in 1948, the casualty figures were not yet finalized. The KIA’s cited in the “Honored Dead” listing for the Bastogne campaign totaled 482. After years of careful research hunting through all the available files, Dutch researcher, Piet Pulles, came up with a figure of 982. Many of those added men had previously been listed as missing in action.203

  During the award ceremony in the town square, a total of five hundred Screaming Eagles passed the reviewing stand after several of the division troopers were presented with Silver Star awards for their deeds.

  Reviewing the troops were VIII Corps commander Lt. General Troy Middleton, Division commander Maxwell D. Taylor, 11th Armored Division commander Brig. General Charles S. Kilburn and ADC of the 101st Division Brig. Gen. Gerald J. Higgins.

  Lt. Gen. Troy Middleton, Maj. Gen. Maxwell D. Taylor, Brig. Gen. Charles S. Kilburn and Brig. Gen. Gerald J. Higgins.

  No Return to Base Camp

  After a brief stay in the towns between Bastogne and Neufchateau, the mentally and physically beat troops of the 101st Airborne Division learned they would not be returning to Mourmelon. After receiving additional winter gear, the Division was ordered to move to the Alsace-Lorraine region of the U.S. 7th Army Front. The distance of 160 miles with convoys slipping and sliding on treacherous snow and ice-covered roads was completed in a few days. Mid-winter was still venting its fury on the fighting fronts.

  The threat of another German offensive of the front failed to materialize. The 101st spent the last week of January to February 25 on the 7th Army front. They were now going back to Mourmelon. However, they did learn their comfortable barracks had been turned over to U.S. Army hospital units. The troops would be quartered in squad tents.