Deliver Us From Darkness

by Ian Gardner

  De Sain ran a medical practise from consulting rooms on the ground floor. As a representative of the local Red Cross, the doctor had volunteered to work with the German medical services and a surgeon from the nearby evacuation hospital was billeted in the house. This did nothing to deter Frans from covertly treating wounded airmen and anyone else needing his help. Allied aviators were hidden in an adjacent attic, belonging to the Friars of Sint Hermanus, connected by a small hole through which supplies could be passed. Shames explained: “We didn’t hear or see anything of the Kraut doctor but the resistance told us that this was the nearest and safest place to Tilburg. The following morning we were given a set of overalls, similar to those worn by the local textile workers. The thought of being shot as a spy was terrifying but as we seemed to blend in easily with everyone else going to work, I managed to calm down a little by the time we reached Tilburg, which had the largest textile, leather tanning, and shoe manufacturing factories in the country.”

  The seven-man team walked along Oisterwijksebaan, a wide path that ran close to the railway from the edge of Oisterwijk to the swing bridge over the Wilhelmina Canal, which was almost identical to that blown up at Son. After crossing the bridge, the team headed for the southern district of Broekhoven and the Metaaldraadlampenfabriek N. V. Volt factory on Nieuwe Goirleseweg (now Voltstraat).

  Once safely inside the powerplant, Ed waited as the Dutch dispersed throughout the city to gather intelligence. “Once the surveillance phase was complete,” reflects Ed, “I collated and verified the information before the resistance boys patched me through via the service line to G2 in Eindhoven. I told the divisional intelligence people that the situation was negative as to any enemy troop or vehicle concentrations in the area. Afterwards we were ordered back to regiment and got out of Oisterwijk as quickly as possible.”

  The following day, September 23, Shames and Van Kooijk reported to Capt Leach at his CP located in a farmhouse at Eerde. Almost immediately Leach sent them into Veghel with 1st Lt Russell Hall (HQ 2/506), to hunt for snipers. Shames’ luck nearly ran out when Hall was shot in the forehead and killed. Because of the developing enemy situation along the highway, Col Sink extended Shames’ time with John van Kooijk as he recalls: “Owing to the higher risks we were now facing, I could no longer accept responsibility for the doctor, who kindly agreed to let me requisition his car. John and I used the vehicle for the next couple of weeks and found it perfect for gathering intelligence and troubleshooting.”

  In the meantime, 3rd Bn had been moving northeast towards Uden, behind an advance party from 2nd Bn that was being led by Col Charlie Chase. In the early hours of September 22, 3rd Bn was closing on Sint Oedenrode, where Gen Taylor had established his new CP at Kastel Henkenshagen. At 0300hrs, after marching ten miles, the battalion went into reserve as back-up for the 502nd and spent what was left of a cold and wet night in a wooded area on the outskirts of the town. “Shortly after arriving we were ordered back to Veghel where the Germans had blocked the road,” recalls Alex Andros. Around 40 tanks from 107th Armored Brigade, supported by SS Kampfgruppe Frunsberg, were attempting to seize the town and destroy the bridges over the Zuid–Willems–Vaart Canal and river Aa. Back in Uden, Col Chase was cut off and stranded until the following afternoon.

  The 3rd Bn arrived in the centre of Veghel on foot at around midday, and were immediately sent to an assembly area near the church. It was not long before they were deployed and took part in the confused fight raging through the town as Alex Andros recalls:

  We arrived at Veghel the following morning and my 3 Ptn were instructed to attack along the road. We ended up facing south, on the right-hand side of the road, where the Germans had a machine-gun position with superb fields of fire. Because of the low ground we could only move forward through deep drainage ditches. It took us all day to get to a point where we could actually do some good. I was deeply concerned by the accurate grazing fire especially after several bullets ripped through the top of my musette bag!

  During a flanking attack later in the afternoon, Sgt Richards and 2nd Lt Willie Miller were ahead of me, about 50 yards from the enemy positions. Moving forward, I just reached Richards as he shouted “To hell with this, we just can’t take any more, let’s get up and go.” The entire squad charged ahead only to find that Germans had pulled out, leaving two young paratroopers behind manning a machine gun. These two kids had kept us at arm’s length all that time. After pulling back we were too damn tired to dig foxholes so we used the ditches for cover. It rained all night and the following morning, I woke to find that I’d been sleeping the sleep of the dead in about five inches of water.

  Intermittent poor weather over the next three days severely hampered effective air support. Because of the information provided by the KP, the division, sustained by British armor, was able to block several important German tank assaults along the four-mile length of the highway, except for Uden, where Col Chase and his small force still remained isolated. The situation was so critical that the commander of XXX Corps, Sir Brian Horrocks, turned some of his artillery units around to assist. The next morning, September 22, Sint Oedenrode was attacked by an organized enemy force from the west; however, the assault reached no further than the outskirts of town. Although the fighting around Veghel was fierce, the battalion was amused to see an assortment of orange flags being raised and lowered as the battle ebbed and flowed.

  The 3rd Bn were in semi-reserve on the afternoon of September 22 when the enemy launched another set of attacks against Veghel. This time the thrust came from the north and was directed against the main railway bridge over the Zuid–Willems–Vaart Canal, which was being held at the time by elements of 2/501.

  Earlier that morning, Col Sink relocated his CP to the Mariaschool in Uden and the Regimental Aid Station to a community centre nearby. The doctors from the 506th PIR were not the only medical teams working in the vicinity. Attached to the 101st Airborne Division were A Co from the 50th Field Hospital, who had recently established a facility in Veghel, at an old granary as their company commander, 2nd Lt Robert Radman, recalls:

  Although dozens of major operations were performed here we were unable to evacuate the wounded. A convoy of British tanks had begun to attract enemy artillery fire, after gathering near the aid station while waiting for the road to reopen. It was clear we couldn’t stay here any longer, so my boss contacted divisional HQ and got permission for us to relocate to a Catholic convent closer to the centre of town. The sisters at the convent were most helpful and provided hot food, mattresses, blankets, and bed linen for the patients. Despite the large red cross placed on the roof, it wasn’t long before we were targeted. The following evening, the convent was hit by two enemy mortar rounds and three of our wounded, including a German, were killed. On the 24th, one of our patients, a German officer, informed us that the convent’s tower had previously been used by the enemy as an observation post, and it was likely that they thought we might be doing the same He suggested that we take him under a white flag to advise his countrymen of their violation. Before a decision could be made we were hit again and the German officer was wounded for a second time. Five nuns were also killed when another shell went straight through the door of the chapel and exploded in the basement.

  A lucky break in the weather that day meant that the division was able to co-ordinate air strikes on a large enemy force gathering east of Veghel. Elements of 2nd Bn were sharing a defensive area astride the highway and came under almost immediate attack by enemy infantry, supported by tanks.

  At 1400hrs, D Co, led by Charles Shettle and assisted by guns from the Royal Artillery, attacked another force moving in from the northwest, and took many prisoners. H Company was asked to furnish security for the railroad bridge over the canal while G Company deployed into a defensive position to the southeast. “1st Lt Doughty had us dig foxholes in an orchard bordering the road,” recalls Jim Martin (G Co 2 Ptn).

  I’d just finished digging mine with Joseph Eagon, when Sgt Osca
r Saxvik came across and told us that we’d have to move further back and dig new positions. Saxvik wanted Sgt Harold Brucker and Cpl Charles Rogers to use the holes we had just dug because they had all the communications gear and needed to be close to Lieutenant Doughty. Although we were all good friends, I threw a fit about having to dig more holes but it did no good. After finishing the second set of trenches, we came under a heavy barrage that lasted about 20 minutes. Afterwards, Sgt Saxvik returned to our position and said, “I hope you sons of bitches are satisfied – Brucker and Rogers have just taken a direct hit and are both dead!”

  John Gibson was acting as medic for G Company at the time. “After the barrage, I was asked to go and check for survivors. The bodies were a mess and ‘Jiggs’ Rogers’ was only recognizable by his distinctive dark moustache. Shortly after this incident, I was first on scene to help a guy from F/506, Pfc Roy ‘Dutch’ Zerbe, whose entire lower jaw had been blown away. The wound was shocking and seemed untreatable but he survived and had over 40 operations to rebuild his face.” A few days later, Jimmy Martin’s war was abruptly halted after his ankle was shattered by enemy shellfire and he was evacuated to the UK.

  Charged with holding Veghel at all costs, the Divisional Artillery Commander, Gen McAuliffe, threw together a task force comprising the 506th PIR and several other American units, plus a squadron from the 44th Royal Tank Regiment. In the meantime, to relieve pressure, 1/501 pushed several miles to the west and occupied the town of Schijndel, capturing nearly 400 prisoners, while the rest of the outfit moved into positions around Eerde to protect Veghel from the west.

  H Co’s 2 Ptn and 2st Lt Clark Heggeness and became deeply involved in the fighting around Veghel on what became known as “Black Friday.” “September 22, 1944, was one of the proudest days in my military career,” recalls Clark. “My platoon earned a Regimental Citation for its defense of the line near the railroad bridge over the canal west of the town.” The 2 Ptn had been designated by RHQ to defend a smaller bridge at Dorshout where the single track Duits Lijntje (Little German Line) spans the river Aa, about one mile north of the highway. The Little German Line dates back to 1878 when, as part of a high-speed passenger system, it carried rich and famous clients between London, Berlin, and St Petersburg. In 1925, the Noord Brabantsch–Duitsche Spoorweg Maatschappij (North Brabant–German Railroad Company) ceased all passenger services to concentrate on transporting livestock, chemicals, and munitions from its main hub at Boxtel to Wesel in Germany.*

  “That morning I had about 20 men at my disposal as we quietly moved into position around the bridge,” recalls Heggeness. A machine-gun team, led by Cpl Charles Ritzler from D/501, had been left behind to guard the obstacle after the rest of his company had been ordered to defend the corridor northeast of Veghel. Heggeness was surprised when Ritzler remembered him from his training days back in the States with the 501.

  The SS 107th Armored Brigade had broken through after crossing a bridge over the river Aa at Eerpe, which had previously been rigged for demolition but failed to detonate. This unexpected opportunity allowed the enemy tanks and infantry to infiltrate towards the Zuid–Willems–Vaart Canal close to the northwestern edge of Veghel.

  It seemed obvious to Clark that the bridge they were now defending might be used to either support an attack on the highway, or recapture the main crossing over the canal – which was only 1,500 yards away to the southwest. The depleted platoon established positions about 100 yards east of the river Aa, on a gentle slope rising behind a small treeline.

  With the bridge now on Heggeness’ right flank, the position held commanding views northwest across the river and railway embankment into the open fields beyond. On the other side of the river, in front of the American positions, was a large open field, dissected by a tree-lined path that led south towards Dorshout farm. Clark described:

  I noticed the higher ground would control possession and allow us direct effective rifle and bazooka fire. A tank attack on the main bridge could only come from the open pasture to the west, forcing the enemy to advance across our front at a range of about 300 yards. Our field of fire was bounded on both sides by woodland, making tank maneuver difficult. I requisitioned the machine-gun crew from the 501 and split our small force into two groups, assigning a bazooka team to each section. As expected, during the afternoon we heard the sound of heavy armor approaching from the woods. Two tanks soon came into view heading our way, supported by around 250 infantry, and began firing wildly at the bridge.

  Along the northern side of the embankment was a 15-feet wide drainage ditch, with unusually steep banks (angled at 45 degrees) about nine feet deep and full of water which the tanks stood little chance of crossing. However, the enemy force seemed unaware that only 400 yards along the line to the west it would have been possible for the tanks to cross. Perhaps the Germans had overlooked the opportunity, while trying to avoid what they wrongly assumed to be an American stronghold at the Coenen and Schoenmakers fertilizer factory, located no more than a mile away to the west along the Zuid-Willems-Vaart Canal.

  About 50 enemy soldiers clambered over the embankment on the western side of the Aa, and moved cautiously into the open ground behind Dorshout farm. Heggeness instructed his men to hold fire until the advance force was perfectly bracketed into a killing zone. Clark took careful aim and gently squeezed the trigger of his M1A1 carbine, signalling the men to commence firing. All hell broke loose and eventually, after several further attempts, the German infantry abandoned their assault.

  At this point Heggeness led one section of 2 Ptn over the bridge. Keeping at a safe distance, they followed the retreating enemy soldiers from behind the embankment. Moving due west, Heggeness and his men came to a small farmhouse about 400 yards away from the bridge where they saw a British tank approaching from a sparsely wooded area. Thinking the Sherman was attacking the enemy flank, the paratroopers waved their orange recognition panels. Much to everyone’s surprise, the infantry accompanying the tank opened fire, killing T/5 TonyYodis. “Realizing that the Sherman had been captured, we took cover behind the house as the crew turned their attention towards us and fired a couple of rounds,” recalls Clark. “Blanketing the area with smoke bombs, we began throwing grenades and were relieved when the tank finally withdrew into the woods.”

  Shortly afterwards the platoon captured 43 enemy soldiers in an area adjacent to the farm. After the prisoners were disarmed, they were placed under guard in the cellar of the farmhouse. Searching the Germans, Heggeness and his men were surprised to find that they were carrying French currency, indicating that they had arrived recently from France.

  Ken Johnson recalls his experience of the action at Dorshout:

  A group of German infantry came over the railway embankment in close order, completely unaware that we were there. We were watching from our positions overlooking the river. It was a nervewracking business as the enemy began to fan out, and were no more than 50 yards away when the lieutenant gave the order to fire. We slaughtered the German troops who were completely exposed with nowhere to run. When the Krauts got over the initial shock, they began to return fire, but soon realized the situation was hopeless and surrendered. I remained behind with my group as the others followed the enemy as they retreated onto the northern side of the embankment.

  H Co 2 Ptn unit action, Dorshout bridge, September 22, 1944

  “The battle was really won by the enlisted guys who maintained discipline and didn’t panic in the face of the enemy,” concluded Clark. Afterwards 2 Ptn counted 52 dead and 25 wounded enemy soldiers. If they had not prevailed, the German force would have almost certainly crossed the canal and retaken the bridge on the highway near Leest.

  Before the attack, 3 Ptn had been holding a railroad crossing opposite the station in Veghel. SO Phillips found a small hand-cart in a nearby barn and decided it would make a good ammunition carrier. “The following morning we took off the cover and were pleasantly surprised to find the cart stacked full of bread, which went down well w
ith the guys.” Shortly afterwards, the platoon was ordered to support Heggeness but when they arrived the battle was over. Harry Clawson, Alex Andros, and his runner Elmer Swanson crossed over the narrow bridge to reconnoiter the area. Clawson, an avid souvenir-hunter, carefully checked the enemy corpses for personal items such as medals and badges before crossing over the embankment to search the nearby farmhouses.

  Flesh against steel

  Veghel was heavily shelled during the late afternoon and early evening of September 22, as 327th GIR arrived to take up defensive positions either side of the main bridge. Maj Horton’s men went into reserve and began preparing for the following day, but it was short-lived as Harold Stedman (I Co 3 Ptn) recalls:

  We got so used to seeing British and German tanks burning that it became commonplace. Across the road from our bivouac area was a Tiger tank that had us well and truly pinned down. Several of our bazooka teams moved up on my left flank and fired a couple of rockets into the tracks and managed to set it on fire. Finally we got some artillery support and the enemy was forced to withdraw. There were 11 inches of steel plate at the front of a Tiger, and the only option with a bazooka was to get up close and aim at the tracks. If the operator didn’t hit the target square on, the carbide steel rod inside the projectile wouldn’t detonate and penetrate the armor. The order came down the line to attack, and we crossed the road to where a panzer officer was lying dead beside the burning tank. I couldn’t stop to check the body because we were receiving so much small-arms fire.