Deliver Us From Darkness

by Ian Gardner

  Dorpschool pupil Geurt van Rinsum was watching the vehicles marked with red crosses ferrying injured to the school, which was only 500 yards away from his home: “Often the vehicles were so overloaded with casualties that they could drive no faster than walking speed. On one occasion a jeep drove past and I noticed a German sitting on the wheel arch with the lower part of his leg missing. Lying behind him on a blood-soaked stretcher was an American paratrooper with appalling injuries. Although virtually half of the poor man’s face was blown away, somehow the soldier managed to raise a smile and wave as he was driven into the school. This shocking image is burned into my mind and is something that I shall never forget.”

  Holding the “murder mile”

  Earlier, back at the railway station, Hank DiCarlo caught the eye of the battalion surgeon, Capt Stanley Morgan, as he was rushing towards the 3 Ptn positions on Smachtkamp. “Hey, DiCarlo, what in the hell are you doing here… I thought I took you off jump status?” Hank could only respond with shrug and a sheepish smile. Shaking his head before departing the doctor added, “Right now we have a lot of wounded who need my attention, but rest assured I will take care of you later.”

  At 0730hrs, Col Sink came forward with Regt S-3 Maj Clarence Hester to reassess the now critical situation on the “murder mile,” just as Lt Andros sent his runner Pfc Elmer Swanson to look for stretcher bearers, who returned 20 minutes later with Dr Morgan and several members of the medical detachment. “At roughly the same time, Bob Sink arrived and wanted to know what the hell was going on,” recalls Andros. “I told him frankly that we were getting our butts kicked, and he asked if we could hold on for another couple of hours while first battalion was being deployed!… With the enemy pushing forward on both flanks we both realized that it was impossible for 3 Ptn to remain any longer. After Sink’s visit, I sent my radio operator Gene Johnson over to Chuck Richards with orders for him to pull out. Johnson returned almost immediately saying that Richards was being overrun and the Germans were now breaking through on the right flank.” It was clear to Col Sink that immediate reinforcements were urgently needed to plug the gap, and at that moment the Airborne Engineers from B/326 were his only option.

  Meanwhile, due to a lack of stretchers, the medics were unable to remove everyone from “Blokpost 17,” and 3 Ptn medic, Pvt Irving Baldinger, was struggling with the more serious cases. As a result, Dr Morgan and Cpl Walter Pelcher decided to stay and look after the remaining wounded until the detachment could return. When it became apparent that the medics would not be coming back, Morgan sent Pelcher and Baldinger back to Opheusden with the rest of 3 Ptn, opting to stay behind and look after Clawson, Thomas, Benton, and another injured machine-gunner, Pfc George Goins.

  Very quickly things got intermingled as Frank Kleckner recalls: “I turned around and saw a German behind us about to take a shot at Pfc Charles Hutchings. My rifle was right alongside Hutchings’ ear when I fired, and it was only then that he realized I’d just saved his life. Ralph Bennett’s actions definitely saved my squad from being overwhelmed, because it kept the Germans on the opposite side of the railway embankment, so all I had to contend with were the enemy to our immediate front.”

  The following action was one of many conspicuous acts of gallantry that would be witnessed over the next two days by the men of the 506th PIR: “The enemy were attempting to envelop us and were now attacking from both the north and south,” rememberd Ralph Bennett:

  We were still being shelled like crazy and had been ordered to withdraw but it was my responsibility as the mortar sergeant to cover the maneuver. Lt Andros and a couple of the guys remained behind while I took a 60mm mortar tube off the base plate and stuck it in the ground.

  There was a wooden cart stacked with bales of hay behind the signalman’s house and Andros climbed on top to spot for me. Stripping off all the shell increments, firing blindly, I held the tube almost vertically within maybe five degrees of perpendicular and let the first bomb go. Open-mouthed we watched as the shell launched directly above our heads. Andros scrambled for cover under the cart as the round came down and exploded no more than ten yards away. But at least it gave me a starting point from where I was able to adjust and began dropping the other shells accurately behind the embankment.

  Andros and Bennett could hear screaming coming from the other side of the tracks as Ralph recalls: “It fooled the Germans into thinking that the spot had been zeroed by artillery, which kept them from crossing the railway line. I only had enough shells to last me for about ten minutes but it bought some desperately needed time. Leaving me to cover the withdrawal, Andros said goodbye and headed back to Opheusden.”

  The bulk of B/326 Airborne Engineers, under the command of Capt Donald Froamke, were still in reserve at Boelenham farm when Col Sink ordered them west to support H Company. After about a mile, Froamke and his men came under enemy small-arms fire. The company was deployed into the Biezenwei, an open area of pasture west of Dalwagenseweg, where Froamke was killed trying to assist one of his men, Pvt Charles Wilber: “A bullet entered my chest and exited through my back and another hit my right leg just above the ankle. As the captain came to my aid, a shell exploded and hurled him high into the air, leaving my ears ringing from the blast.”

  Wim de Bosch was awoken early in the morning by incoming artillery: “My family were forced to take cover in the air-raid shelter behind our house. At dawn, I could clearly see a group of Americans crawling west through the Biezenwei behind our property towards Smatchkamp.” At around 0900hrs, a paratrooper from B/326 Airborne Engineers stumbled passed the De Bosch family shelter, carrying Pvt Wilber. The soldier came over to ask Wim and his sister Dirkje if they could help take Charles into the house. After undressing Wilbers in the scullery, the brother and sister were shocked by the severity of his wounds as Wim recalls: “We made up some dressings before dragging the American, who was now shaking with shock, onto a bed in the back room, where my sister covered him with a blanket and placed a hot-water bottle at his feet. As Charles calmed down, he joked that this was the first time he’d ever been wounded. The other soldier decided to return to the fight and left his friend in our care. The artillery increased and in an attempt to protect Charles we covered him with more blankets. The house was hit several times, forcing my sister and I to hide behind a mattress in the fireplace.”

  About an hour later, when Wim and Dirkje emerged they were nearly shot by another soldier who had come to see if Wilber was OK. After apologizing, the man went away to search for a medic. Dr Ryan arrived a few minutes later and sent a jeep to take Wilber to the Dorpschool. “Our property was occupied several times during the afternoon by the Americans, firing point-blank at the enemy, who were desperately trying to cross the Biezenwei,” recalls Wim.

  We had to consider my other sister Grietje, who was heavily pregnant, and my elderly aunt Mijntje, who had trouble walking, and by 4pm the Germans were almost upon us and we realized that it would be insane to stay any longer.

  The noise of the continuous explosions shook the ground under our feet and the choking stench of cordite literally took my breath away. We could feel the bullets bouncing off the shelter and one narrowly missed me and embedded into the wall. The situation was now so desperate that we had to do something or be overrun by the Germans, who were now no more than 50 yards away.

  I ran with my father to our barn on the main road, where we found our bicycles, plus a bakfiet belonging to a neighbor still intact. We brought the bikes to the shelter and loaded Mijntje and Grietje and as many blankets as we could carry in the bakfiet. A couple of my friends, Izak, Will, and Gerrit, who had been sheltering with us, pushed and pulled the heavy tricycle as we headed along Dalwagenseweg, in the direction of Dodewaard. Upon reaching the bridge over the Linge Canal, a bullet glanced off the frame of my bike. Moments later we passed a Sherman tank firing at regular intervals, and after travelling a further 500 yards, we seemed to be out of the firing line and headed for Hien.

  From here the De
Bosche family had hoped to follow the dijk road a couple of miles further east along the Waal to Herveld near Andelst, but were advised by some of the other refugees to remain in Hien. “We were taken to a crowded cellar belonging to the Van De Vrees farm, where later that evening we gathered outside to watch Opheusden burning deep into the night.”

  Tactical withdrawal

  Earlier that afternoon in the southwestern sector near Dodewaard, the left flank of I Company came under heavy infantry attack supported by tanks, forcing Andy Anderson to call for support. Luckily the advance was thwarted by the 321st GFA and the British gunners from 79th Field Artillery Regiment. At around 1900hrs the enemy began to concentrate its attention on the southern flank of I Company, along the river Waal. Earlier in Dodewaard, Harold Stedman, Frank Lujan, and Wayman Womack were aiming their 60mm mortar fire onto a factory, where they could see troops from IR 959 gathering for a counterattack. After expending all their ammunition, Stedman and the others were forced to take cover in a nearby house: “We hadn’t realized that the company had pulled back as the Germans had begun to push forward. The family who owned the house motioned for us to hide upstairs. Shortly afterwards, some German infantry entered the building but thankfully never ventured further than the ground floor. Soon after leaving the house we spotted a British officer lying in a nearby ditch and went over to help but he was already dead. Upon examining the body we couldn’t find any trace of a wound. Some time later we learned from the medics that a tiny fragment of shrapnel had entered through the man’s back and lodged in his heart. After seeing our colleagues maimed and killed in so many horrific ways, it made us realize just how little it could take to actually kill a human being.”

  Many people fled from the fighting in Dodewaard and took refuge in the stables and deel (integrated area connected to the house to keep cattle and store equipment) at the back of 12-year-old Clazien Hermse’s house at Hien: “However, it wasn’t long before we were forced to leave and made a run for Goedegebuure farm on the Waal dijk but almost immediately upon arriving we were sent back to Hien!”

  Since around 0600hrs, the CP at Boelenham farm had been receiving attention from enemy artillery. At 0845hrs, Col Sink called for 1st Bn led by LtCol La Prade, along with a troop of British tanks and Bren-gun carriers from the Scots Greys, to gather in an orchard near the Hemmen-Dodewaard railway station in preparation for an urgent move into Opheusden. The temporary tank park soon became a target for the German artillery firing from Wageningen. At around 1400hrs, Boelenham took a direct hit, displacing the roof above the scullery, which injured lieutenants Alex Bobuck and Lewis Sutfin. Life for 51-year-old Dirk Tap and his family soon became a living hell as he recalled: “The intense shelling forced us to take cover in the cellar for the remainder of the day. That same evening, at least 18 people came to the farm seeking shelter after fleeing Opheusden.”

  Some time around 1500hrs, Gen Browning arrived at Boelenham to discuss the situation, and immediately advised the Americans to evacuate. A couple of hours later, Col Sink headed for the Dutch Reform Church at Zetten, opposite Dorpschool, as its tall steeple made a superb observation post from which to monitor the battle. Lying in the churchyard was the decomposing body of a German soldier, who had been killed by the British in late September, still clutching a bag full of religious objects.

  Jim Morton went to Dodewaard and found a more suitable headquarters behind the dijk at the Christian School in Hien as he recalls: “In the meantime, 2nd Lt John Weisenberger, 1/Sgt Fred Bahlau, and S/Sgt Ben Hiner all volunteered to remain behind with the heavy equipment near Opheusden station until nightfall, when a truck could be sent to collect them, but there was a problem. One of the vehicles I planned to send was destroyed and the other overturned in a drainage ditch. In desperation, I sent a runner with orders for Lt Weisenberger to abandon the position but John and the others bravely decided to remain overnight and guard the equipment.”

  Back on the “murder mile” Bennett had run out of ammunition. “I wiggled the mortar out of the mud and threw the tube into a waterlogged ditch. Dr Morgan didn’t want to leave when I told him it was time for us to go. Instead he said that the Germans would not do him or the wounded any harm, so I stood to attention, saluted, and told him that we would get back if we could.” In a matter of minutes the aid station was overrun and despite his protests, Dr Morgan was marched with Goins and Benton to the nearby town of Ommeren. Although their injuries were not life-threatening, Clawson and Thomas were left behind. Morgan glanced back and saw a column of dense smoke rising from the signalman’s house and thought of the two men being trapped inside.

  By early afternoon Lt Andros returned to Opheusden and redeployed his men into the deep ditches along the western side of Dalwagenseweg: “After the withdrawal, there were only 17 of us left from 3 Ptn and three of those, including myself, were wounded.” Meanwhile, Ralph Bennett was making his way along the irrigation ditches towards the northern end of Opheusden and recalls: “I remember seeing an abandoned .30 cal machine gun, with its top cover open, and assumed that the crew must have left in a hurry.” Reaching Dalwagenseweg, Bennett could hear the sound of vehicles in the distance, and headed south to meet up with 3 Ptn at De Tol. The H Company CP in the old tollhouse was situated near to the railway station at the corner of Dalwagenseweg and Tolsestraat. Earlier one of the barns next to the house had been hit by shellfire and burnt down. When Bennett arrived, Capt Walker was nowhere to be seen, so he briefed Lt Andros and a couple of other officers about the German vehicles now trying to outflank the town.

  It was getting dark when Andros sent Bennett back along the street to reassess the situation as Bennett recalled: “After what I’d just been through, it was something I could have done without, but I followed orders and selected four men to accompany me.” At the same time, Frank Kleckner, George Montilio, and Chuck Richards occupied the orchard across the street and succeeded in temporarily pushing the Germans back from the Biezenwei. Meanwhile, keeping the apple trees on his left, Bennett headed north along Dalwagenseweg, towards the sound of the enemy vehicles. “As we got to the end of the orchard, I spotted a German sentry and cut the man’s throat before deciding that it was too dangerous to go any further.” Gene Johnson adds: “That night we were ordered to move to Dodewaard, but 1/Sgt Bolles told 3 Ptn to stay where we were and get some sleep and prepare for the following day.”

  Ben Hiner played a small but vital part in blocking the potential enemy armored thrust, when he advised one of the tanks from the Scots Greys of the impending enemy threat. The Sherman entered the town and knocked out a couple of light recon tanks along Dalwagenseweg, temporarily halting any further enemy armored movement.

  “If only we had the tools”

  Bobbie Rommel and his machine-gun crew had spent most of the day in a house on the southern edge of Opheusden, where they had established a fire position in the attic:

  The owner of the property was badly wounded while climbing the stairs, when a shell exploded right outside the front door, covering the backs of his legs with shrapnel. The poor guy lost a lot of blood before the medics turned up in a jeep and hauled him away. That night the gun became so clogged with carbon that it actually stopped working. We were totally out of oil, and with nothing suitable in the house, we ran across the street and found something more suitable in a kitchen pantry. Tearing the gun down on the kitchen floor I coated the working parts with lashings of creamy butter and when the weapon was reassembled it functioned perfectly.

  About the same time, Lieutenant Wedeking came over and offered us some rations back at the platoon area down by the canal. We had hardly eaten a thing all day so how could we refuse? As we were opening the ration packs, one of the guys noticed a group of civilians milling around behind the house opposite. It turned out there was a makeshift air-raid shelter behind the property and we went down inside to check that everyone was OK. It was full of old men, women, and children, so we gave them what was left of our meals. After nightfall another grou
p of civilians turned up seeking permission to leave town, and it wasn’t long after they’d gone when the Germans began to shell our positions. Luckily most of the projectiles landed in the mud along the canal bank and failed to explode. At that point we were ordered to move to a new location about a mile along the road towards Dodewaard where we dug in for the night.

  Before the platoon moved out, Lt Wedeking ordered the removal of the breach block from the .50 cal machine gun, rendering it useless to the Germans.

  After the “murder mile” had begun to stabilize, 1st Bn moved forward and recovered some of the ground that had been lost. During the later stages of the first day, Fred Bahlau found himself working alongside A Company near the railway station: “I ran towards this one guy who was firing a machine gun next to a dead German soldier and slid feet first into the body. Looking up, I suddenly realized that the soldier operating the gun was a buddy of mine from Michigan, Don Brinistool. Half joking I said, ‘Jesus Christ … Brin, how’s your mom and dad?’ and between bursts, we had a brief conversation about home and family. Before heading into town, I distinctly remember shouting in Don’s ear, ‘You have got to hold the line at all costs so keep that gun burning.’”

  By the time H Co’s 2 Ptn got into Opheusden, most of the locals had abandoned their homes as Ken Johnson recalls: “I remember searching houses for stragglers and bizarrely finding a garage full of contraband black-market goods, piled next to a motorcycle that looked like it had just come out of a showroom. I loved big motorbikes and had owned a Harley Davidson before enlisting. Impressed by the Dutch bike, I said to one of the boys, ‘How on earth can I get this home?’ My friend burst out laughing and replied, ‘After what happened out there today how on earth do you think you are gonna get yourself home let alone a darn motorbike?’ Shrugging my shoulders, I couldn’t help but ask if anyone had a spare set of spanners.”