No Victory in Valhalla

by Ian Gardner

  Col Harper, along with Maj Jones, was summoned to Caserne Heintz and instructed to personally deliver the message to the German officers waiting at the CP. Harper told Henke that he had the American commander’s written response and gave it to Wagner before driving them blindfolded back to Kessler Farm. During the short journey, Henke asked if the reply was affirmative, and added that, if necessary, they were empowered to negotiate further terms. Harper told them that the reply was most definitely not affirmative and consisted of a single word. Henke translated the word “NUTS” to Wagner who was naturally confused by the slang terminology.

  When they arrived back at the farm, the officers were reunited with their waiting colleagues. The order was given for the group to remove their blindfolds and Wagner opened the letter. One of the soldiers from F Co who spoke German translated Harper’s previous explanation as “Go to Hell.” As the German party was walking away, Harper shouted after them, “If you continue to attack, we will kill every goddamn German that tries to break into this city.” Wagner stormed off, throwing his blindfold at a nearby BAR position; the time was recorded as 1400hrs. The threatened heavy artillery barrage was delayed due to other German operational commitments around the perimeter, and subsequently Von Lüttwitz was reprimanded for ordering the artillery to refocus its attention back on Bastogne.

  Operation Repulse – rising from the ashes

  The following morning (December 23), despite the light covering of snow, the overcast weather began to disperse, and by early afternoon, hundreds of vapor trails from Allied bombers (bound for Germany) began to appear in the clear blue sky. The first day of good weather also gave the Allies an unlimited ceiling and a free hand across the battle area. Air panels were displayed on the ground, marking friendly positions, while American P-38 Lightnings, P-47 Thunderbolts, and P-51 Mustangs attacked German tanks, troops, and artillery positions, alongside Typhoons, Hurricanes, and Spitfires from the Royal Air Force.

  The improvement in weather also brought another surprise. The first of two ten-man teams from the 101st Pathfinder Co began dropping west of the railway line close to the Neufchâteau road and Isle-le-Pré, 1 mile southwest of Bastogne. Twenty-four-year-old 1st Lt Shrable Williams was in the lead aircraft flown by LtCol Joel L. Crouch. Williams had simply “cut cards” with 1st Lt Gordon Rothwell to see whose team would go in first. Rothwell lost the bet and was ordered to circle over the drop zone (DZ) until receiving the all clear from Williams. “Initially the mission had been scheduled for the 22nd but it was temporarily postponed at the last minute,” recalls Williams. “On the flight over France we picked up our fighter air support, which was a blessing.” For some reason Crouch overshot the DZ and decided to circle while Rothwell’s stick took the initiative and jumped. Gordon’s team consisted of Cpl Richard Wright (E Co), Cpl Lavon Reese (E Co), Pfc Carl Fenstermacker (E Co), Pvt Lachlan Tillman (D Co), Pvt Charles Partlow (D Co), Pfc Martin Majewski (Regt HQ Co), Pfc Nathan Ferster (HQ Co 1st Bn), Pvt Thomas Floyd (A Co), and last but not least, Pvt Irvin Schumacher (H Co). After making contact with friendly ground forces Rothwell popped smoke grenades to signal Williams to commence jumping. Williams was first out of the door, followed by Sgt Jake McNiece (Regt HQ Co), Sgt John Roseman (A Co), Sgt Cleo Merz (C Co), Sgt Leroy Shulenberg Jr (B Co), Cpl John Dewey (Regt HQ Co), T/5 George Blain (HQ Co 1st Bn), Pfc John Agnew (Regt HQ Co), Pvt William Coad (Regt HQ Co), and Pfc George Slater (B Co). While the enlisted men were servicing the Eureka signaling equipment, Rothwell and Williams went straight to Caserne Heintz to establish where exactly division wanted the supplies to be dropped.

  The Pathfinders were directed to set up their Eureka transmitters and signaling equipment on the high ground west of the city near Grande Fontaine. Within an hour of landing, the two teams established contact with the first 16 aircraft from Operation Repulse – now coursing through heavy enemy antiaircraft fire toward Bastogne. Flying in from the direction of Sibret, 3 hours and 40 minutes behind the first wave, were 40 aircraft belonging to XVIII Corps Pathfinder Group, as George McMillan recalls:

  We took off from Membury in Oxfordshire at the head of the column along with B-24 and B-26 bombers plus fighter cover. I was working as an air dispatcher alongside two crewmen from the Air Force. As we flew over the DZ [at 1150hrs], I was standing behind the pilot and could see the fluorescent “T” panels [known as AP 30s] and colored smoke marking the DZ. I returned to my post just as the green light came on and helped shove three big containers out through the door of the aircraft. After our drop we had a ringside view of the other planes as they delivered their loads. It was an amazing spectacle to behold and later we learned that over 90 percent of the supplies dispatched were recovered.

  As an example of the kind of loads delivered, 21 C-47s from 441st Troop Carrier Group (TCG), flying in three-ship Vics, were carrying, in order of priority: 66,800lb of ammunition, 15,600lb of rations, and 800lb of medical supplies. In total, on December 23, around 238 aircraft reached the target; however, six misdropped loads elsewhere, four (including three from 441st TCG) were shot down, and three more were forced to turn back before reaching the DZ. The last plane arrived at 1606hrs, signifying the end of a historic day for the defenders of Bastogne.

  Lt Mehosky and 1st Bn were in reserve at Luzery when the parachute drops began: “C Co was still in possession of the vehicles I’d requisitioned from Noville. We sent every available truck and jeep out to the drop zone to help collect and transport supplies for Regimental HQ. Consequently, the company gathered dozens of parachutes as well as canvas sheets and felt liners from the packing crates. Layered onto logs, this waste material drastically improved our living conditions and provided warm bedding for the battalion. Many, like me, were having problems with footwear as our soles began to come away from the uppers. The leftover felt was tied together with paracord and formed into makeshift overshoes that kept our feet dry and considerably warmer.”

  More supply missions followed on December 24, 26, and 27. Due to bad weather all flights were suspended on Christmas Day. The follow-up drops brought in a variety of items ranging from artillery shells and telephone cable to cigarettes, candy, and mail – during which time over 40 aircraft were either damaged or shot down. For the most part the parachute insertions were accurate, but there was a slight problem. The color-coding of the canopies had been changed. This difference only served to confuse the ground troops as to what supplies were packed in which containers. Over the next few days, Shifty Feiler organized a number of work parties to go out to the DZ (which was only a few hundred yards west of the barracks) and collect medical supplies. Many parachutes were also gathered and brought back to the rifle range where they were used for blankets, bedding, and bandages. In total over 2,000 parachutes were dropped during the operation carrying a total of 481 tons of supplies. After their work was done and the siege lifted, the Pathfinders were trucked to Reims, from where they were flown back to the 9th Troop Carrier Command HQ in Britain.

  Jim Martin has good reason to remember the first and subsequent parachute drops, which brought letters from home. He recalls:

  We were dug in on the eastern side of the “Finger” above Recogne when a jeep arrived behind us. Completely oblivious, the driver emerged with a sack of mail and handed it to the nearest person before tearing off at considerable speed. Moments later a German mortar barrage came crashing through the trees. Everyone ran for cover and I made it to the nearest foxhole closely followed by Pfc Mike Nassif, Jr. We were lucky as a shell exploded close to the trench, covering us both with dirt and cordite.

  After the attack everyone was still cursing the mail guy when we discovered that Sgt Dean Christensen had been mortally wounded. Dean had crawled under the back of a nearby Sherman TD only to be ripped to shreds when one of the shells exploded less than 2ft away from the rear of the tank.

  That evening another mail truck using the main road overran the MLR and went down into Foy where it struck a mine on the outskirts of the village. The joy of recei
ving mail far outweighed the risks, and under cover of darkness a patrol from 2 Ptn H Co was able to reach the vehicle and bring the mailbags back to the MLR for distribution.

  5

  “The deep six”

  The worst winter in 50 years

  By holding a tight and well-connected perimeter that became known as “the hole in the donut,” the 101st Airborne Division was able to keep the enemy infantry and armor away from Bastogne. After the divisional defense force was regrouped, the 506th PIR combat team was augmented by A Battery (Antitank), 81st AA Bn, and 1 and 2 platoons C Co, 705th TD Bn. Luckily, so far the Germans had chosen not to focus their strikes in any one particular place but instead used small probing attacks to try to locate US weak points. Despite the German ultimatum of total annihilation, nothing really changed, which came as a welcome relief to the troops. However, the regiment did not know that the enemy was building up strength in Recogne, Cobru, and, perhaps more importantly, on the eastern side of the MLR. At 0830hrs on Christmas Eve, the Volksgrenadiers launched a company-sized reconnaissance attack from their positions in the Bois Jacques against E and F companies. German casualties were heavy, and although the assault failed, it showed that the scaled-down enemy force was still active and ready to engage.

  Ed Shames’ platoon had just spent an uncomfortable day fighting off one particular enemy patrol that had managed to infiltrate into the edge of their harbor area. The acting squad leader, “Smokey” Gordon, was shot and severely wounded while manning a machine gun during the early stages of the attack. The bullet entered Cpl Gordon’s chest just below the clavicle (collar bone) before exiting through his back. One of the Germans was now lying adjacent to Ed’s foxhole, as he recalls:

  The dead Volksgrenadier made a nice addition to our “front room,” and we subsequently used his frozen body as a kind of makeshift sofa! Afterwards everyone got into the habit of shaking the Kraut’s hand every time we moved in and out of the patrol area. Sometime around this period a rumor began to circulate that a soldier from another company had been stabbed by a German night patrol. It was said that the Germans were specifically looking to murder or capture anyone they found asleep in a foxhole! All joking aside, the threat of being knifed shook me up so much that afterwards I spent most nights on top of the ground shivering like a lunatic in my sleeping bag.

  The first heavy snowfall came at midday on Christmas Eve. At the time only 50 percent of the division had overshoes, and most of those never reached the front lines. As a stopgap, burlap bags (sandbags) were issued and all available white cloth requisitioned for camouflage purposes. Up until this point the men figured the weather could not get any worse – but they were in for a big surprise. In a desperate attempt to combat the falling temperatures, Ed Shames wrapped sacks around his boots and managed to “liberate” a German greatcoat along with a pair of fingerless mittens. “Despite looking like scarecrows, every morning I’d have my people shave no matter what the situation or temperature,” recalls Ed, “because I figured if they looked like soldiers, they might behave like soldiers.”

  The deep white blanket now forming was powdery and dry and brought with it thousands of leaflets packed within specially modified artillery shells from the enemy that read:

  HARK … the HERALD ANGELS sing! Well, soldier here you are in “No-Man’s Land,” just before Christmas, far away from home and your loved ones. Your sweetheart or wife, your little girl, or perhaps even your little boy: don’t you feel them worrying about you, praying for you? Yes old boy, praying and hoping you’ll come home again, soon. Will you come back – are you sure to see those dear ones again? This is Christmas, Yule-time … the Yule log, the Mistletoe, the Christmas-tree, whatever it is, it’s home and all that you think fine to celebrate the day of our Savior. Man, have you thought about it, what if you don’t come back … what of those dear ones? Well soldier, “PEACE ON EARTH GOOD WILL TOWARDS MEN” … for where there’s a will there’s a way … only 300 yards ahead… MERRY CHRISTMAS!

  Late in the afternoon, Pvt Herb “Junior” Suerth, who had joined 3 Ptn at Mourmelon, decided to visit a chum in the next sector, which at the time was under control of 1st Lt Lynn “Buck” Compton’s 2 Ptn. It was common knowledge that Compton was undergoing some sort of breakdown due to combat fatigue. Rightly or wrongly, Ed Shames was intolerant to Compton’s situation, believing that he should have stepped down days ago if only for the safety of his men. After what had recently happened with the enemy attack everyone was now feeling the strain, although they dealt with it in different ways. As Suerth trudged through the dense, snow-covered forest into the 2 Ptn area, Co§mpton strode over and verbally dissected him with such anger and venom that “Junior” was almost brought to tears. The tirade contained words such as “how dare you … without permission … who do you think you are … what do you think you are doing,” and even “desertion.” Of course, before leaving, Suerth had made sure he had permission from S/Sgt Taylor, and as “Junior” was not experienced enough to be on the patrol roster, it didn’t really matter just as long as he came back before nightfall.

  Shortly after Suerth returned to the harbor area, McClung reported the incident to Shames. “Man, I was livid, and ran through the woods to confront Compton. Buck didn’t know what to do as I pushed him up against a tree and in front of his platoon screamed in his face, ‘What the hell is the matter with you? How dare you chew out one of my men without talking to me first – he was only trying to wish someone a Happy Christmas!’” About one week later, Buck was taken off the line with battle fatigue and replaced by 2nd Lt Jack Foley.

  Due to the activity in the Bois Jacques, 3rd Bn increased its night patrolling between Recogne and Foy. During one G Co patrol toward Recogne, Jim Martin, S/Sgt George Diebolt, and Lt Rowe passed a badly wounded German who had been left behind during an earlier incursion. “The guy was in a bad way and kept calling out for his mother over and over again,” recalls Jim. “It was clear that he wasn’t going to make it so Diebolt, who was my platoon sergeant, went back and put the man out of his misery with a single shot to the head.” 1 Ptn were nearby and also heard the cries of the wounded Volksgrenadier along with the ominous sound of tanks, as Pfc Ewell Martin recalls:

  Our squad formed a line out in front of the MLR during the night. Early the next morning one of the guys who was dug in behind me called across that we were pulling back. I decided to go down the hill and check that the squad next to us who were located behind a hedgerow had also received word – which was a big mistake! As I stepped through the fence next to the hedge, a burst of enemy machine-gun fire, which I believe came from one of the tanks, forced me to dive for cover. The nearest hole was still occupied and I remember cussing the guy out for not digging it deep enough. The tracers were “walking” just above the ground toward me along the hedgerow and one of the bullets actually ripped through my trouser leg! After a while, I crawled back to the MLR and informed the crew of a 75mm gun where I thought the tank had gone but they couldn’t get a visual and didn’t have enough ammunition available to take the chance.

  Hank DiCarlo’s squad was down to eight men and starting to feel the effects of the last few days. At this point rations were becoming scarce, forcing the men to scavenge from the bodies of German infantrymen, as DiCarlo recalls: “We did our best to glean whatever rations we could from the corpses that were by now littering the patrol area in front of the MLR. Many of them had these little round wooden vessels that resembled soap dishes but contained butter. I really liked the tins of Argentine beef, but despite trying my best I couldn’t tolerate something the Germans called ‘blood pudding.’”

  At the time most of the men on the front line were rationing themselves to one tiny meal per day. “Pretty soon my pants began to get loose,” recalls Manny Barrios. Drinking water was always a problem, especially for Manny, who spent a lot of time on OP in the “Eastern Eye.” “Melting the snow was often our only option but not always easy to achieve under the conditions as usually it took f
ive helmets-full of snow to melt down enough water to fill one canteen.”

  During the late afternoon, Capt Jim Morton visited the G Co positions and stopped for a moment to speak with Jim Martin, who recalls: “Captain Morton had been our original XO so I knew him quite well. The captain told me that due to the shortage of officers in H Co he was now doubling up as temporary XO for Capt Walker. As we were casually discussing our individual hunger issues he noticed the body of a German soldier lying in front of my position. I couldn’t believe what he said next – ‘Jungle Jim’ suggested that we go out under cover of darkness and cut the backside out of the Kraut and fry it as a ‘steak supper.’ ‘Sir,’ I replied, ‘surely you are joking?’ He looked at me, smiled, and retorted, ‘It was only a suggestion,’ before disappearing back into the woods… I never did find out if he was being serious.”

  Home to S/Sgt Ralph Bennett was the four-man foxhole, carved out three days earlier with a little help from a grenade.

  Before leaving Mourmelon, my parents sent me a package containing, amongst other things, a large tin of sweet peas along with a cryptic note saying, “Do not open until your 22nd birthday,” which was … Christmas Eve. The guys in 3 Ptn were always very liberal with their care parcels and everything was shared whenever possible. Everyone in the trench wished me a Happy Birthday as I punched a couple of holes in the tin and placed it to heat on our squad stove. As the can started to boil we noticed an odd smell, and it suddenly dawned on us that the container was actually full of liquor, so I poured a little into our cups before passing it around to the rest of the platoon. It certainly gave us something to smile about, and for once I toasted my dad for doing the right thing. Later that evening we got our first hot meal, which was brought up from Bastogne – so my birthday couldn’t have been any better!