by Ian Gardner
Earlier on the 10th, as 2nd Bn (who had also been withdrawn) were heading south, Ed Shames decided to stop his platoon for a few minutes to regroup. Buck Taylor thought he would use the opportunity to make contact with 1st Bn, who were now in regimental reserve (waiting to be relieved by 2/506) somewhere over on 3 Ptn’s left flank. As Buck turned to leave the 1st Bn area he was hit by a bullet just above the ankle and had to be evacuated by stretcher. “I’d been grooming Paul Rogers in readiness for such an occasion as this, and therefore the reshuffle was seamless,” recalls Shames. “Even before Paul became platoon sergeant, I gave him more responsibility than the other squad leaders so I knew he was the right man for the job.” After Buck Taylor was wounded, 3 Ptn rejoined 2nd Bn, who were now on the southern side of the Champay Woods near Savy. Later that evening the enemy blanketed the area with artillery, killing Sgt Warren “Skip” Muck and Pfc Alex Penkala. After dark, Ed Shames sent Junior Suerth and several others back to Luzery to collect stretchers. On the way the men stopped to speak with the crew of a tank whose unit was parked in the woods. During the brief conversation one of the crewmen foolishly lit a cigarette. Coincidentally, moments later a number of German shells exploded around the tanks. During the attack four people were killed and Suerth was badly injured in both legs by shrapnel.
Cpl Bob Webb had spent January 10 trying to service the radio equipment. Every single antenna had been blown off during the move through the Fazone. When the battalion pulled out, Webb decided to walk into Bastogne and look for some replacement aerials: “I came across a road junction clogged with traffic and the last thing I remember was running for a ditch as a shell exploded 20 or 30ft in front of me. After being unconscious for some time, I awoke to discover that I was virtually blind and could feel blood seeping from my ears, nose, and mouth. The battalion never got the radio antennas it so desperately needed as ironically I was diagnosed with severe concussion and evacuated for treatment.”
Suffering from frostbite, Manny Barrios was sent to Luzery. “As there seemed to be no doctors available I was seen by one of the medics working from a large open barn,” he recalls. “Apart from frostbite I also had some shrapnel in my right leg. The aid man placed both of my feet in hay-filled sacks before disinfecting my leg wound. That evening I stayed in the warm barn and had my first decent night’s sleep in almost two weeks. The penetrating cold had affected my ankle – damaged six months earlier in Normandy. As the temperatures dropped the pain grew worse but I never said a word for fear of being taken off the line and letting my ‘squad’ down.”
While Sgt Barrios was recovering at Luzery the battalion was heading out through deep snow toward Savy, each soldier following the footsteps of the man in front. 1st Lt Chester Osborne and 1 Ptn G Co remained on line to assist 1/506 in taking over the area. During the early hours of January 11, a German patrol came through the position, as Ewell Martin recounts: “We were dug in on a point of woods. I was manning a machine gun with Sgt John Luse who, as it happened, was also from Mississippi. We were rotating every 2 hours, and as I was sleeping, John nudged my shoulder and pointed out the enemy patrol in snowsuits quietly entering the woods behind us. Gently lifting the gun, we moved after the enemy patrol but had only gone a short distance when a volley of shots rang out and the Germans disappeared into the night.”
The gunfire came from Pvt Haynes Knox, who had been dozing in his sleeping bag as the soldiers passed within a few feet of him. The zip of the bag jammed, trapping Knox, who panicked and loosed off a couple of rounds through the material with his pistol!
“Shortly afterwards we began to exchange machine-gun fire with the enemy troops in the woods opposite,” continues Ewell Martin. “Not long after Knox’s brush with death we came under intense artillery fire which badly wounded Cpl Gabriel Sonoqui and Sgt Merville Grimes, who were both hit while sheltering in their foxholes [Pfc Harold Martin and Pfc John Krupa were also seriously hurt in the shelling]. During the barrage we also lost several M1 rifles that happened to be above ground and also our precious supply of fresh water stored in a large insulated container, which was an enormous blow to our morale.” Despite the overwhelming abundance of snow, fresh water was still essential. Tactical conditions dictated that fires were not allowed. Eating snow was not an effective option as it only served to lower the core temperature, forcing the human body to burn more energy to keep warm.
The following afternoon, January 12, 1 Ptn pulled out and headed for Savy only to be told on arrival that the battalion had just departed for Foy. Ewell Martin recalls: “We marched like crazy men trying to catch up, and after going without water for the last 24 hours we were badly dehydrated. My platoon sergeant, Flint Brown, was carrying four rifles that belonged to some of the guys who were having a hard time keeping up. Before long even Flint began to struggle, so as I was nearest he handed one of the M1s to me.” As the men crossed a bridge over a small stream, Pvt “Duane” Meriwether broke ranks and scooped up a canteen full of water before running back to share the precious liquid amongst the squad.
For whom the dice rolls
Along with scores of wounded, Harwick, Morton, Wester, Gibson, and Rommel were probably sent to the 429th Medical Collection Co at Massul near Luxembourg. Because Bobbie Rommel’s wound was not immediately obvious, Maj Kent ordered him to walk to a waiting ambulance. “The pain was so overwhelming that I began to pass out and it was only then that the medics helped me into the back of the vehicle.” When Bob arrived at the schoolhouse in Massul the doctors removed the shrapnel from his foot before sending him to Paris for further treatment. “After several operations and skin grafts, I spent a total of 119 days in various English hospitals… When released I had to cut my boot open to physically get it on my foot and subsequently the doctors decided not to send me back to the 506th. Instead I was placed on ‘limited service’ and sent to France where I drove a truck for a USO show. Another GI was driving a second vehicle containing the wardrobe, while I transported the piano and all the stage equipment. The show had seven gorgeous girls and very quickly we learned not to carry anything for them; otherwise those chicks would have worked us both to death.”
Nearly six decades later Bob Rommel finally received his Purple Heart, Good Conduct Medal, Presidential Unit Citation, and Victory Emblem in a plain paper envelope. No salute, no shaking of hands, no flags fluttering in the breeze.
When Johnny Gibson arrived at the 429th, he was immediately prepared for surgery and had a tube inserted through the chest wall to allow blood, air, and fluid trapped within the pleural cavity to escape. He recalls:
A day or two later another casualty, Lloyd Molina (who had been shot in the abdomen), was brought in and placed in the bed opposite. Lloyd and I had known each other since before Pearl Harbor and had worked together at several Civilian Conservation Corps camps in northern Arizona. Lloyd asked how I was feeling and I replied sarcastically, “strong as a bull.” For some reason it struck us both as being hilarious, and despite the excruciating pain we couldn’t stop laughing for a good 10 minutes.
A few days later, I was transported by ambulance to Paris. The two black drivers were real gentlemen, and they could see I was in agony from the shrapnel still embedded in my liver. The pain became so acute that they had to stop off at an army hospital for two days in order for the doctors to stabilize me. When I got to Paris the surgeons removed the shrapnel from my liver and lung and some bone splinters that had originated from my ribs. I wanted to keep one jagged piece of metal about the size of my fingernail as a souvenir but one of the French domestics threw it away. Seventeen days later and after battling severe infection, I was transferred to England (Taunton) and then back to the USA, eventually ending up in Birmingham General Hospital, Van Nuys, near Los Angeles.
It was here that I came across Robert Evans’ address in my notebook and decided to write to his widow and explain her husband’s last moments. Two years earlier Bob and I had shared a room at Camp Mackall and became very close friends. During a night out in
Fayetteville, I had met up with Bob and his wife in a bar. Between drinks, she surreptitiously gave me her home address and asked me to write if anything serious ever happened. It seemed a lifetime since that night and after what I’d been through. Writing that letter was agonizingly difficult.
Jim Morton was put on an ambulance with four other patients. “As we left Bastogne a couple of shells struck the road and blew in the doors of the vehicle, peppering everyone except me with shrapnel! From my hospital bed near Paris, I drafted letters to Bob Sink and Charlie Chase to recommend Fred Bahlau for a battlefield commission. I told Sink of Fred’s leadership skills and devotion to duty and recalled that he had twice been awarded the Silver Star for gallantry in action. However, I was too sick at the time to recommend Johnny Gibson for the Silver Star – although I knew he deserved it – which I regret.” 1st Lt John Williams agreed to take over as temporary commander of HQ Co until a worthy replacement for Morton could be found. One week later, Ed Harrell (who had been promoted to captain) accepted the job and was transferred from G Co, where he had previously been temporary XO after John Wiesenberger died.
Many, like John Gibson, were never officially recognized for their courage due to the fact that the officers who would have recommended specific bravery awards were either dead or seriously injured. At the end of January Jim Morton arrived at Woodrow Wilson General Hospital in Staunton, Virginia. “The chief surgeon was able to put his entire hand through the hole in my leg and told me it was a miracle that I hadn’t lost the limb – although it would take another two years and many operations to fix.”
Shortly after midnight on January 10, Bob Harwick arrived at Massul, where he was given two pints of plasma before undergoing emergency surgery. Two days later, Bob was transferred to a hospital train and moved to Paris. He recalls: “It was so cold during the journey that ice formed on the floor and frost appeared on the bolts that extended through the walls of the compartment.” On arrival, Helen Briggs came aboard to look for her boyfriend. The couple had last seen each other in December when Bob and Helen spent two blissful days together before the recall went out for Bastogne. “I had been informed the day before that Bob would be on this particular train,” recalls Briggsy. “No wonder he was so cold – the poor guy was completely naked except for a belly band and a hospital destination card.” After a brief but emotional reunion, Helen kissed her lover and wished him luck, not knowing when or where she would ever see him again.
8
“Salute the new dawn”
The final attacks on Foy and Noville – January 13–17, 1945
On the evening of January 12, after relieving 401st GIR (who in turn had taken over from the 501st) on the ridgeline at Foy, Col Patch briefed what was left of his officers at the battalion CP in the trees behind the Bois Champay. The idea was to secure the village without damaging the N30 (therefore no artillery was to be used), enabling Shermans and M18 Hellcats from the 11th Armored Division to pass through unimpeded toward Noville. Due to the high number of casualties on January 9, the remaining senior NCOs were shuffled between rifle companies, which, for the most part, were down to fewer than 30 men each with the exception of G Co, which had around 50 soldiers available for duty. What the regiment did not know was that parts of their communications network had been compromised and the enemy were expecting them.
For the first phase, although 2nd Bn were now in regimental reserve behind the MLR, E Co had been attached to 3rd Bn and would join I Co for the attack that was due to begin the following morning. As he had been working so closely with Lloyd Patch, the CO of Regt HQ Co, Gene Brown, was asked to take temporary command of I Co after Andy Anderson had been re-assigned to the battalion staff. I Co were split into two composite squads, the first led by 2nd Lt Roger Tinsley (1 Ptn) and the other (numbering 16 soldiers) by Sgt Harley Dingman, whose platoon leaders, Milo Bush and Don Replogle, had both recently been evacuated.
G and H companies were tasked with holding the line while maintaining fire support along with the 81mm mortar platoon. Alex Andros thought the idea was unworkable due to the lack of available manpower. He recalls: “Other than myself, Capt Jim Walker and 2nd Lt Willie Miller were the only officers remaining in H Co, while I Co were in a worse state than we were. The battalion as a whole was nothing more than an oversized platoon and Patch didn’t really know how he could effectively deploy us, but orders were orders.” During the briefing, 1st Lt Pete Madden was told that he would be providing mortar support to suppress a number of suspected enemy machine-gun positions located on the high ground beyond the village. During the early hours of the 13th, Col Sink relocated his HQ from Hemroulle to the 3rd Bn CP along with reinforcements from Regt HQ Co.
After a night of light enemy shelling the American attack began as planned at 0900hrs, as Madden recalls:
We were waiting for the signal from regiment to commence our fire missions. Several minutes went by but we received no such instruction. By this time, I could see puffs of smoke coming from the German machine-gun nests so we knew they were now actively engaging our troops from E Co who were spearheading the assault.
Suddenly the radio crackled into life: “STAND BY – WAIT – OUT.” Clearly I was familiar with Col Patch’s radio operator, but I didn’t recognize the voice on the end of the line so called for clarification, and the reply came back, “THIS IS KIDNAP BLUE – HOLD YOUR FIRE MISSION.” “What target do you want me to hit first?” I inquired. “JUST HOLD FIRE – THE MISSION IS NO LONGER NECESSARY.” I could still see the smoke from the enemy machine guns up in the woods to the north and couldn’t figure out what was going on. I called back again only to be told, “HOLD YOUR FIRE – THAT IS A DIRECT ORDER.” We knew something was wrong, so I asked for identification. There was a long pause and I repeated the request but received no answer. That was all I needed and immediately called all four batteries onto our pre-recorded targets.
Madden ran back to the battalion CP to advise that the enemy were now tapping into the communications network. Sink had no choice but to order complete radio silence, making command and control during the attack and also over the next few days very difficult.
While Madden had been puzzling over the fire control orders, 1 and 2 platoons from E Co had crossed their jump off point (start line) and were now proceeding down into Foy. Earlier, Ed Shames and 3 Ptn had been sent across the N30 to the extreme western edge of the Bois Jacques (then held by the 501st), where they were supposed to be the lead platoon in a diversionary attack. Shames’ mission was to push down to the crossroad and draw the enemy forces away from the center of town. Simultaneously, at the Bois Champay, 1 and 2 platoons, led by 1st Lt Tom Peacock and 2nd Lt Jack Foley, had emerged from either side of the “Eastern Eye” to begin their advance, keeping the Route de Houffalize on the right. Once into Foy, Peacock and Foley had been ordered to link up with Shames and form a blocking force along a line approximately 300 yards in length, south of the road leading to Recogne.
Ed Shames and 3 Ptn were to employ the same tactic by capturing and holding the other side of the road leading to Bizory. Unknown to the 506th, a German minefield was now covering the N30 at the southern edge of the village. Enemy forces had also established a defensive firebase at the Koeune house. Located at the strongpoint was a mortar fire controller who had all entry routes into the village covered. Several machine-gun crews were located on the upper floors, with uninterrupted views towards the “Eye.” Another gun group operating nearby at Cordonnier Farm had superb fields of fire along the road to Recogne.
The machine guns were also protecting a Mk IV Panzer parked in the dip directly outside the Koeune house. Here the road dropped sharply away, leaving the turret barely visible from the N30. The tank created a formidable barrier and ultimately prevented Shames from linking up with Peacock and Foley. “After arriving at the southeastern edge of the village,” recalls Ed, “we took cover in the shadow of a large tree. At this point we began to receive accurate small-arms fire, and Earl McClung spotted a muzzle
flash which came from an upper window of a farmhouse [belonging to Joseph Gaspard] further along the road directly opposite the church.”
McClung dashed forward into the cover of a large stable block that ran alongside the Gaspard Farm, where he heard German voices coming from inside one of the stalls. Firing his rifle through a small window, Earl blasted away at the enemy soldiers before continuing toward his intended target. Stopping a short distance from the sniper’s window, McClung reloaded his rifle with blank ammunition and waited. Moments later a muzzle appeared and Earl fired two carefully aimed rifle grenades into the opening. There is a possibility that the two grenades did not kill the sniper, who was most probably finished off sometime later by another shot from Sgt “Shifty” Powers.
The only serious casualty suffered by 3 Ptn as it skirmished through the southeastern part of Foy was Cpl Frank Mellett. Twenty-four-year-old Mellett was shot dead by a German soldier after entering a house he believed had already been cleared. “Frank’s unnecessary death made me vow to do my utmost to bring every man in my platoon home,” reflected Shames. Beyond the Panzer, over on the other side of the street, Pfc Carl Sawosko from 2 Ptn died after being seriously wounded in the head.