No Victory in Valhalla

by Ian Gardner

  Ed Shames also fondly remembers the party but for a slightly different reason:

  Many of the senior guys kept sending me to the bar to get their drinks… I didn’t mind; it’s just the way it is. The party was in full swing when LtCol Strayer passed out in front of Sink. I’d had four or five strong vodka martinis when the colonel asked me in no uncertain terms to remove Strayer. “What shall I do with him, sir?” I inquired. “Anything you like; just get him out of here!” I called over 2nd Lt Alexander Hamilton who had only recently been posted to E Co’s 2 Ptn. As we carried Strayer (who was now acting regimental XO) out by his hands and feet, Hamilton asked where we were going to put him. I was pretty drunk, and feeling slightly mischievous suggested we stick him in Bob Sink’s tent under the bed!

  I heard when Sink awoke the following morning and discovered our little “gift” still fast asleep, he kicked Strayer straight out the door and into the street! Thankfully Strayer never found out it was me – otherwise I’m sure he would have made my life much worse.

  11

  “Setting sons”

  The Ruhr, western Germany – April 3–24, 1945

  On April 1, 1945, the 101st Airborne was attached to MajGen Ernest Harmon’s XXII Corps, part of the Fifteenth Army now under command of LtGen Leonard Gerow.

  The advance party left Mourmelon on Saturday, March 31, and was followed two days later, during the early hours of the morning, by the main body. Consisting of 117 officers and 2,006 enlisted men, the regiment traveled via Maastricht in an impressive convoy of trailer trucks – a distance of some 200 miles. The 506th took over from the 387th IR (97th ID) and were deployed south of Düsseldorf around the town of Nievenheim and the villages of Stürzelberg and Zons, 50 miles east of the border with Holland and Belgium.

  Situated on the western tip of the Ruhr valley, the ancient city of Düsseldorf straddles the Rhine. At the beginning of World War II, with a growing population of some 540,000 people, the city had become an important industrial center for the Nazi war machine. Around 60 percent of the city had been destroyed during recent strategic Allied bombing raids that forced around 200,000 civilians to flee into the surrounding countryside.

  The nearby town of Gohr became the central hub where Col Sink established his regimental command post for the next three weeks. Bordering the river Erft, on the regiment’s extreme left flank, were the troops from the 327th GIR. On the right, at Worringen, was the 504th PIR, part of the 82nd Airborne Division. The MLR for the 506th was roughly a 10-mile front along the Rhine that meandered north from Worringen, through Himmelgeist, before reaching Düsseldorf. The 387th IR handed over its sector to the 506th on April 4, whose job it now was to keep contact between the 327th and 504th and carry out regular recon and combat patrols across the Rhine. In addition the three battalions were tasked with maintaining military government in their own specific areas. Attached to 3rd Bn during this period were F Battery from the 81st AA Bn, with overall rear-echelon security being provided for the first week by the divisional recon platoon.

  All the bridges across the Rhine in the regimental sector had been destroyed, isolating around 5,000 troops from 176. and 338. Volksgrenadier-Divisionen on the eastern bank of the river. Despite these fragmented pockets of resistance the war was really over and the German will and means to fight all but exhausted. As part of the blocking force, 3rd Bn were allocated the northern sector, tying in with the 327th GIR. 2/506 took control of the eastern sector, while 1st Bn were placed in regimental reserve at Nievenheim.

  As usual the 321st GFA were supporting the 506th with their 105mm guns. The troops were billeted comfortably in private houses and farms. 3rd Bn were sent to Norf, a small town due north of Gohr. “The first night, there was no sign of the 387th IR,” recalls Hank DiCarlo. “So we simply outposted the river without anyone there to guide us in. The next morning the battalion straightened out the lines and bracketed in its mortars and artillery.”

  At the end of March 1945, around 300,000 enemy troops, mostly belonging to Feldmarschall Walther Model’s reconstituted Heeresgruppe B (Army Group B), were encircled east of the Rhine along the Ruhr valley. The area that became known as the “Ruhr Pocket” was almost 80 miles deep and 50 miles wide.

  As “Hitler’s Fireman,” Walther Model was directed by him to fight for every last inch of German soil. After failing to destroy a vital bridge spanning the Rhine at Remagen, Heeresgruppe B soon found that it had been outflanked by American ground forces. Due to the tenacity of the US Ninth and Fifteenth armies, the “pocket” was quickly reduced to a 25-mile front bordering the Rhine north from Cologne to Düsseldorf. The job of cleansing the western edge of the pocket along the river had been given to units from the Fifteenth Army.

  Model, who had led the unsuccessful German offensive in the Ardennes, was ordered by Hitler to destroy the factories and turn the region into a fortress. Although he ignored the “scorched earth” directive, Model’s attempts at defense ultimately failed when, in the middle of April, Heeresgruppe B was split in half by the Allies during their final penetration of the pocket. Unwilling to submit, Model discharged his youngest and oldest troops, while informing the remainder to either surrender or attempt to break out through the encirclement. Berlin denounced Model and his army as traitors and ordered SS units within the pocket to seek revenge on any soldier or civilian refusing to stay and fight.

  ____________

  Despite the chaos on the other side of the river, the first week in theater was quiet for the 506th, with many still being sent on leave. For the most part, combat activity consisted of patrolling or crossing the Rhine in small boats to assess enemy strength and capture a few prisoners for intelligence purposes.

  “During that time there was a lot of looting and not much action, although we were shelled from time to time by the big guns across the river,” recalls Jim Martin. “Some of our guys went on one patrol and were amazed to find themselves walking through an industrial area where the factories were still producing items for the German war effort!”

  “The enemy troops we encountered preferred to surrender rather than fight,” recalls Hank DiCarlo. “We saw very little evidence of German activity and as our presence became more aggressive there was hardly a time that I can remember when a patrol didn’t return without capturing one or more prisoners.”

  On April 12, 3rd Bn were relieved by 1/506 and sent to Nievenheim as regimental reserve. Shortly after 1st Bn took over the MLR, a large-scale raiding party from A Co, made up of seven officers and 125 enlisted men, was sent across the river to destabilize any enemy troops still in the area. At the same time the regimental intelligence officer, Maj Bill Leach, led a five-man patrol from the S2 into the southern sector between the villages of Stürzelberg and Zons, to reconnoiter a suspected enemy observation post near a suburb of Düsseldorf called Benrath.

  Between the two villages, the Rhine bends acutely eastwards, and it was along the Stürzelberger Strasse near Zons that Leach decided to launch his night mission. Over to the major’s immediate right were three squads from F Co controlled by sergeants Joe Flick, Bob Stone, and Gaston Adams.

  Whether he realized it or not, on the way back across the river, Leach and his men were paddling toward Bob Stone’s squad when a nervous replacement opened up with an automatic weapon and killed every man in the patrol. Five days later, on April 18, the bodies of Leach and Pfc Robert Watts were recovered from the river opposite the F Co CP at Stürzelberg. It was a tragic incident during a relatively quiet period of the war.

  The authorities established collection centers at Nievenheim for refugees or displaced persons (DP centers). Many civilians had escaped from their own troops across the Rhine into the American sector and now had to be sprayed with DTT before being processed, as Jim Martin recalls: “While we were in reserve we watched with interest as hundreds of semi-naked women were being deloused. G Co requisitioned private houses for our billets and we stayed there for around seven days. The occupants were thrown out with ve
ry little notice and I know they despised us for doing it.” It became Harley Dingman’s job as sergeant major to evict German civilians from their homes, as he recalls: “I spoke only a few words of German but at least it was enough to get the message across that the property was about to be occupied. I think for the most part the civilians were actually relieved that we were American and not Russian or French.”

  “In reality we were being used as a kind of military fire brigade,” recalls Lou Vecchi. As they had plenty of time on their hands Lou and the boys dressed up and posed for snapshots wearing Nazi uniforms liberated from a local military outfitters. 1 Ptn H Co ended up living in a number of private houses around Nievenheim. “Walking toward one of our squad billets, I noticed a bone china plate come flying out of a window, followed by several more, all shattering on the road in front of me. When I inquired as to what on earth was going on … the boys just laughed and said, ‘Sarge, we are the occupying force so there will be absolutely no damn washing up for us!’”

  “Several members from our platoon decided to play a terrible prank on Pfc Tom Beasley,” recalls Hank DiCarlo.

  Tom had a reputation as a sexual adventurer. I’m almost ashamed to say but this event occurred on the day President Roosevelt died. It was mid-afternoon and we had just returned to Nievenheim from a memorial service. My squad were hanging around in front of this farmhouse cleaning weapons and generally shooting the breeze. There was a two-storey building next to the house, the first floor of which was a stable with an outside staircase leading to what looked like some sort of servants’ quarters.

  While we were thus engaged, Walt Patterson came down the steps and said, “Hey you know there’s a dead woman lying on the bed up there … it looks like she shot herself.” Of course we all had to take a look and what he told us was correct – there was a dead woman, I would guess in her early thirties, lying on a bed with a gunshot wound to her head. We could only surmise that she’d committed suicide.

  Thousands of German civilians took their own lives during April and May 1945, believing the puerile propaganda being broadcast by Goebbels – that the Americans would rape and murder anyone or anything they came across.

  “The guys closed the heavy blackout curtains and climbed into a large wardrobe,” recalls Hank. He continues:

  One of Beasley’s squad mates, a recent replacement named Fannia, was sent to find Tom and tell him that there was a woman who’d agreed to have sex with the members of the platoon in exchange for cigarettes. As he wasn’t one of the guys who had initially made the deal, Fannia advised Beasley not to open the curtains. Most of us sitting around outside still had no idea what was transpiring as Tom dashed past and charged up the stairs. It was quiet for about 5 minutes and then we heard a God-awful scream and then Beasley came bowling down the steps, pistol in hand, demanding to know where he could find Fannia.

  We later learned the details of what happened. As advised, Tom didn’t open the curtains and felt his way to where the woman was lying. He climbed onto the bed and was heard to remark, “Geez lady, you’re pretty damn cold.” At this point the guys figured the joke had gone far enough and leapt from the wardrobe to find Tom straddling the woman’s body, staring into her dead eyes … hence the scream. Ignoring the four other men in the room, Beasley drew his pistol and went in search of Fannia. Tom never forgave the kid for being the triggerman on that trick and Fannia had to be transferred to another company for his own safety. After that I don’t think Beasley ever really trusted any of us again, but you should’ve seen his face when he came back down those steps.

  A liaison party from the 97th ID reported to the regimental CP, confirming that elements of their division had occupied Baumberg on the eastern bank of the Rhine. Shortly afterwards the 506th was informed that elements of the 94th ID would soon be relieving its front-line battalions.

  Official contact was made with the US infantry on the eastern bank by a patrol from the 506th who crossed the river under a white flag. Not long afterwards 1st Bn and 2nd Bn were relieved by 1/303 and 2/303 from the 94th ID and sent to Weckhoven, Horrem, and Dormagen. The next two days were spent training, while military control passed to the 94th ID. It was during this period that 3 Ptn H Co suffered one of its biggest tragedies when Sgt George Montilio was killed accidentally by a nervous replacement. Montilio’s death came as a heavy blow to Ralph Bennett and Alex Andros, who both worshipped the ground the New Englander walked on.

  The last pocket of resistance at Düsseldorf did not stop fighting until Feldmarschall Model committed suicide near Duisburg on April 21. By the end of the month, around 325,000 German troops had been taken prisoner. On April 21/22, the 506th was transported by truck and rail to Jagsthausen in support of Seventh Army. Three days later, Col Patch established the 3rd Bn CP at Rossach while G, H, and I companies settled in nearby Untermessach. At the same time, 1/506 went to Oberkessach, Service Co to Olinhausen, while 2/506 made themselves at home in Widdern.

  On the 26th, while Harley Dingman was visiting Regimental HQ at Von Berlichingen Castle (now Hotel Die Götzenburg) near Krautheim, he noticed a pile of promotion papers outside Col Sink’s office. “As there was nobody around, I added Chester Molawa’s name to the list. Because of his criminal record he was never going to get a promotion but he’d been doing such a great job for me that I figured he needed a break. The paperwork sailed through without any problems and a few days later Chester was made up to T/5!”

  Before leaving the Ruhr, Ed Shames developed a problem with his teeth. The pain became so acute that Col Sink sent him to a mobile dentist in Cologne. “When I arrived, there was a long line of people waiting to be seen. Dressed in combat clothing, .45 on my hip, I jumped to the front of the line, causing a massive argument with the officer in charge. I told the man that my unit was in the process of pulling out and that I couldn’t wait and eventually he gave in. A week or so later, Sink got a letter from the dental people complaining about my attitude. All Sink could say was, ‘Not again, Shames. The rear echelon are there to support not hinder us, so in future please, please, please be nice to them!’”

  12

  “Striking back”

  The plight of the 3rd Battalion POWs – June 1944–May 1945

  Although Ed Shames was now beginning to enjoy his new life as an officer, he was often reminded of his early days with Col Wolverton and 3rd Bn. “Occasionally, when I saw S/Sgt Joe Gorenc, we would talk about the old days and our friend Pfc Don Ross, who’d been captured in Normandy but, unlike Joe, wasn’t lucky enough to escape.”

  When Don Ross arrived at Limburg in Germany he was billeted with fellow D-Day captives Pfc Billy Weimer, Pfc Don Armenio, and Sgt “Bud” Estes from H Co, along with Pfc George Rosie and Cpl Jim Bradley from HQ Co and I Co’s T/Sgt Joe Beyrle. The next part of the POW journey was usually by rail and could take days or even weeks depending on the final destination. In August, after a short stay in Stalag IV-B at Mühlberg, many private soldiers like Ross were sent to other camps, where they were used as Arbeitskommandos, or labor details. Don (now prisoner number 80427) was sent east by train with Weimer and Armenio and ten other men. After several long stops and delays the group finally arrived at Stalag IV-C, near Wistritz in the Sudetenland on the Czech border.

  Established at the beginning of the war in a former porcelain factory, IV-C provided a 23,000-strong labor force to local industry. Many British, French, Polish, American, and Russian prisoners were forced to toil at the Sudetenland Fuel Works, where petrol was synthesized from coal. Shortly after arriving, Don was sent to work in the camp’s blacksmith shop:

  I helped two Americans escape after providing them with a stolen hacksaw blade. Later, one of the men was killed and the other recaptured and brought back to the Stalag. A few of the guards made the poor wretch run into the “forbidden area” between the barbed wire. Many of us were forced to stand and watch while they machine-gunned the escapee to death.

  A week or so later, I was re-assigned to a local open cast coa
lmine. If the opportunity arose everyone did their level best to sabotage anything and everything they could lay their hands on. It was my job to separate any waste material from the coal, and whenever possible I’d place the spoil in the coal wagons and vice versa. One day a civilian worker saw what I was doing and deliberately ran a wagon into me, injuring my back. However, a few days later the same guy was “accidentally” crushed to death, but none of us were ever suspected.

  Two months later, Don was moved into Czechoslovakia to Falknov nad Ohri. Today the town is known as Sokolov and is situated in the Karlovy Vary region northeast of Cheb. The Germans called the small facility “Falknov an der Eger,” which was a subunit of the infamous Flossenbürg concentration camp. Ross was forced to work through the coldest winter in 50 years:

  We were standing on frozen rivers, breaking up ice, allowing the water to flow more freely through a nearby hydro-electric dam. Most of us went down with emersion injuries, and I suffered severe frostbite to my hands and feet. Sometimes we were ordered to a nearby railway to unload goods wagons, which was always a great opportunity to steal a few potatoes and carrots.

  One of the guards was an older fellow who clearly sympathized with our situation. After returning from an unloading detail, the German would often pat us down at the gate and jokingly say, “Been putting on any weight lately lads?” before letting us pass. There was another German NCO who was decent enough to keep us informed on any Allied progress and how close they were to the camp. On several occasions the “Little Corporal” saved my life by intervening as I was about to be beaten for some misdemeanor or other … and we didn’t forget his kindness. During early March, with the Allies on the doorstep, we rose up and disarmed our captors. Those that we didn’t like were beaten and locked in one of the camp buildings. However, we left the older guard and the Little Corporal alone. After leaving the camp through the front gates we all went our separate ways.