by Griff Hosker
The snow by the river was untouched. Nothing had passed along it. The depth of the snow sapped energy from already tired legs. We took it in turns to lead. The second and third men had an easier time of it as they stepped in the footsteps of the pathfinder. Gordy nearly came a cropper when he was leading. He slipped and began to tumble down the bank. If he fell into the water his heavy Bergen and weapons would act as an anchor and drag him beneath the icy water. Hewitt’s quick thinking and strong arms grabbed him just in time.
“My turn, Gordy. You get at the back.”
“Sorry, sir.”
I could hear firing to the right of us. We were a little closer to the road which was heading to Andler. I took out my Colt. Then I heard a noise that sent shivers down my spine. It was the heavy rumble of huge tanks. These were not Panzer Mark IVs these were Tigers or even the new Tigers which the Squadron Leader had told me about, King Tigers. I had last heard one from inside the M8 Greyhound. Now, with the vibrations beneath my feet and the throb of their engines close by they were even more of a threat. The crack from the right confirmed it. It was an 88 mm.
“Right, chaps. We run or we will be caught and the Jerries in those tanks are S.S.! That means a bullet in the back of the head at best.”
My men needed no urging and we found new energy from somewhere. The small arms fire became more intense. As we neared the edge of the trees I could see the flashes from the muzzles of rifles and machine guns. This was the Falaise Gap all over again but this time the boot was on the other foot. The Americans were surrounded by German armour and we were having to flee for our lives. Even as we emerged I saw the last of the 14th Cavalry tumbling over the bridge. Sergeant Major O’Rourke was firing his carbine as fast as he could in the middle of the bridge. Suddenly a grenade exploded thirty yards in front of him and his two men. They were knocked to the ground. As the Panzer Grenadiers raced forward the three of us burst from the road, behind them. I emptied my gun into them. Barker and Hewitt turned and threw two grenades back towards the advancing tanks and Germans.
“Run!”
As the two grenades exploded and caused confusion amongst our pursuers, an 88 mm shell smashed into the house on the far side of the bridge. I saw, in the flash of the explosion, Colonel Devine marshalling his survivors from the bridge. As we reached the end I saw that the men with Sergeant Major O’Rourke were dead but the big man was alive, albeit unconscious.
“Pick him up and I will cover you.”
As they took him under the arms and carried him over the bridge to the relative safety of Andler, I reloaded my Colt and, kneeling next to the stone abutment, squeezed off targeted shots at the advancing grenadiers. I made a small target but even so chips of stone flew from the bridge close to my head. When my gun was empty I took out a German grenade, armed it and threw it high into the air. It spiralled end over end. As I ran I hoped it would explode in the air. German tank commanders liked to fight with their bodies half out of their turrets.
“Come on Major! That is a Tiger on your ass!”
The grenade went off and pieces of metal whizzed over my head. I heard Colonel Devine as he urged me forward. I saw, coming towards me, the barrel of a Sherman as it headed towards the bridge. They were brave men but they were trying to swat an eagle! They were outmatched. I saw the flash from the muzzle when I was just twenty feet from it. I was deafened. Colonel Devine took my arm and pushed me down the road. I knew he was talking to me but I heard nothing. I just ran with him. My legs were bone weary.
The defenders of Andler had erected sandbags and barbed wire. They would not stop the Tigers. Colonel Devine led me through them. It was a labyrinth. They had bazookas, PIATs and 3 pounder anti-tank guns. They would slow the armour down; that was all. Then there was an explosion as the Sherman which had advanced to the bridge was hit by an 88. A column of fire raced up into the night sky. The exploding fuel tank made the Sherman a fireball. The crew would all be dead but they had, at least, blocked the bridge. It would slow down the Germans. That was the best we could hope for; slow them down. Exhausted and with little ammunition the Colonel’s unit was not going to be of much use in Andler. We reached the other side of the village. Already American trucks and halftracks were being loaded with the wounded.
A sergeant ran up to Colonel Devine, “Sir, Colonel Descheneaux, who is in command here, orders you and your Cavalry to get to St. Vith as soon as you can. He says to tell them that there are too many tanks here for us to hold on. He intends to pull out after dark. He will need help on the road.”
“Thank you Sergeant. Tell him good luck and we will pass the message on. Captain Stewart, get the men aboard the trucks.” He looked around at Barker and Hewitt. John was tending to the Sergeant Major, “How is Sergeant Major O’Rourke?”
The big man used Hewitt’s arm to pull himself to his feet, “I am fine sir. I guess I owe these guys one.”
The Colonel said, “After what they did we owe them more than one. Get aboard the halftracks. We are bugging out.”
We were tightly packed in the M2 but that kept us warm, at least. We left the defenders of Andler with a dozen trucks to give some of them the chance to escape. As dawn broke we all strained our necks to look east at the battle which was taking place at the river crossing. It was a cacophony of noise. The American’s 76 mm battled against the deadly 88 mm of the Germans. Carbines, rifles and machine guns underscored the louder crashes. Occasional crumps of grenades could be heard in the distance. The Germans would take the crossing eventually, that was inevitable, but hopefully they would pay a price.
“Don’t worry sir, the 106th has over 7,000 men. They may be scattered but they will hold.”
The Sergeant Major sounded confident but I was not too sure. I hoped he was right. I rested my head against the metal of the halftrack and was soon asleep.
I was awoken by Gordy, “Here sir. Back in St. Vith.”
As we clambered from the back of the halftrack I saw that they were preparing its defence. The peaceful town we had left a couple of days earlier was now a hive of activity. Colonel Devine turned to me, “Come on Major, let’s give our bad news to the General.”
“I know where the Command Post is.” I led him to the familiar building. “I am not certain that Colonel Harding will be pleased to see me.” As we walked I told him of my acrimonious departure.
“I know the guy. He is all West Point and Number 1s. He is a Fancy Dan! Leave him to me, Major. You are one of us now and we look after our own in the cavalry.”
As we entered Sergeant Ford looked up. He grinned, “Have you got my jeep, sir?”
“Sorry Sergeant Ford, Jerry blew it up!”
Colonel Devine said, “We have news from the front. It is vital we tell the General as soon as possible.”
“You had better go in, sirs, General Clarke has just arrived.”
We knocked and entered. As we did I heard General Jones say, “But we have no idea what is going on five miles up the road, Bruce, and your tanks are still spread out along the road.”
Colonel Harding saw me and his eyes narrowed, “What do you want?” There was aggression in every syllable.
Colonel Devine bunched his fists, “Colonel we have just spent a night fighting Germans. The Major and I have fairly short fuses. I would back off if I were you.”
General Bruce Clarke, ignoring the bad feeling, said, “You have come from the Schnee Eifel?”
“Yes sir. We are about to lose the last town on the Our. Andler is going to fall. They are holding on for grim death but there are King Tigers and the S.S. attacking them. Anyone on the east will be trapped. Colonel Descheneaux told me to tell you that they are short of ammunition and he doesn’t know how long he can hold out.”
General Jones said, “But there are 7,000 men there!”
Colonel Devine said flatly, “There are King Tiger Tanks and Panzer Grenadiers. These guys mean business, General. I saw a Sherman hit by one shell and it blew up. We have nothing to stop these guys. It needs a tan
k buster and the snow means we can’t get aeroplanes up.”
General Jones slumped in his chair. He had been relieved but his face showed that he felt responsibility, “I’ve thrown in my last chips. You are in command now, General.”
I could not believe that they were giving in. “Sir, there is a chance here. Those King Tigers are so big and so heavy that, while they are unstoppable they are slow and there are bridges which will not bear their weight. I don’t think they can use the bridge at Andler. They will be jammed up on the road. If you call in an air strike…”
“And you are?”
“Major Harsker of Number 4 Commando.”
The General smiled, “Well Major. I like your optimism but as of this moment every squadron is grounded because of the weather and my tanks are backed up on the roads here.”
Colonel Harding snapped, “The Major was ordered to return to Liege. He chose to go to the east instead.”
“And a damned good thing he did! This officer and his men deserve a medal.” Colonel Devine sprang to my defence.
General Clarke nodded, “Thank you, Major, but perhaps you should obey your orders. Head towards Liege while you can.”
I saluted, “Yes sir.” I knew when I was beaten. I turned and shook Colonel Devine’s hand, “Good luck, sir. You have a fine unit. It was a privilege and honour to fight alongside you.”
“And you Major, and you. Who knows, our paths may cross again. I hope so. You and your men fight an interesting war.”
Outside I saw that Barker and Hewitt had taken advantage of a mobile canteen to get some hot food. They were old soldiers. Gordy handed me a dixie with the ubiquitous beans and franks. The Americans seemed to enjoy it. “Well sir, what is the SP?”
“We are ordered back to Liege.”
“Easier said than done, sir. This place is jammed up.”
“We head for the Motor Pool. Let’s see if we can bluff our way to getting a vehicle.”
After we had eaten we made our way to the Motor Pool. This time there was a lieutenant in charge. “Sorry sir, I have Colonel Harding’s orders. No one is allowed to take an American vehicle without a written order from him.” From his words, I guessed the orders were written specifically with me in mind. The Colonel appeared to be more than a little vindictive.
The Master Sergeant, who had given us the first jeep, winked at me as he said, “How about that then sir?” He pointed to a shape covered by a piece of canvas. Like a toreador he whisked the canvas away to reveal a motorbike and side car combination. He jutted his jaw out as he faced the lieutenant, “This one ain’t American, it’s Kraut.” He nodded to me, “It has been serviced and it is all gassed up. The boys have spent a week doing it up. To be honest we were thinking about taking it back home but if you want it, sir, then take it with our blessing” he looked at his officer. “How about it Lieutenant? You can still obey the Colonel and do the Major a favour. He is an ally after all.”
I could see his dilemma. I made up his mind for him, “Thank you Master Sergeant. This German vehicle will do nicely.” Turning our backs on the bemused and confused Lieutenant I said, “We will have to pack this efficiently. Get rid of everything we don’t need. Pack the Bergens with ammo and food and tie them on to the sidecar.”
Just then there was the sound of shells exploding. They were 120 mm guns. The Germans had arrived. They were close now.
The Master Sergeant said, “I reckon you ought to get out now, sir. While you can!”
Chapter 5
Even as we were leaving the beleaguered town of St. Vith the German assault guns were shelling it. I hoped our new friends would keep their heads down and be lucky. A soldier never discounts luck. When Napoleon was told of a good General he had asked, ‘Yes but is he lucky?’ I sat in the sidecar carefully scrutinizing the map. From what I could gather the Germans had broken through at many places on a wide front. We had been badly caught out. I hated to run too but we were needed by our own army. 30 Corps was going to have to bolster up the northern flank and that was where we would be needed. Looking at the map I could see that the Germans could exploit the boundary between the British and American lines and sweep up to retake Antwerp. Once they had Antwerp then it would be the devil’s own job to take it back.
I was heading for Malmedy. We had passed that on the way to St. Vith. The road passed through Wereth, a small village six and half miles from St. Vith. I saw smoke rising from the houses. It was not the smoke of a house fire, it was houses on fire. If Germans were already there then I did not want to walk into an ambush. This was the area where the paratroopers had been reported.
“Stop Gordy. Hewitt come with me.” I took my Colt and we headed along the wood, keeping to the trees at the side. There had been fighting here. I saw dead Americans. When I turned over the body of a camouflage cape covered German I saw that they were S.S., the1st SS Panzer Division Leibstandarte We had fought them at Falaise and they were vicious killers. We moved cautiously and entered the village through the back garden of a small half demolished house. As we entered the centre of the small huddle of houses I saw, against a wall, the bodies of eleven black American soldiers. They had all been shot in the back of the head but, as Hewitt examined them, he discovered that they had been tortured first.
“Bastards!” John Hewitt was quietly spoken but there was venom in his words.
“We can’t do anything for these poor sods at the moment, John, but we will. Get their dog tags.”
I whistled for Gordy. He shook his head in disbelief when he saw the bodies of the dead. “Who could do that, sir?”
“The 1st SS Panzer Division Leibstandarte. We will go steadily from now on. There are tank tracks here as well as armoured cars. Jerry is between us and home. If we have to we will have to go across country.”
“We have plenty of petrol, sir, and we can always manhandle this little rig over obstacles.”
“Let John drive for a little way. It will take his mind off that.”
“Aye sir, you are right.”
It was a grim journey. We found more bodies of Americans by the side of the road. You could not tell how they had died but if this was the S.S. ahead of us then I feared the worst. We were close to the village of Baugnez, just a mile or two from Malmedy, when we caught up with the tail end of the German column. I heard the engines of their huge tanks. We now had Germans ahead of us and behind us. I tapped John on the shoulder and he stopped. To our right was a forest and a ridge.
“Off the road.” John drove along a forester’s track. I spied a firebreak. “Take the motor bike up there, Hewitt, and wait for us. We will have a look see. Come on Gordy.”
I took my sniper rifle and binoculars. We headed along the forester’s track in the trees. It led up to a ridge. The noise of the engines told me that the Germans had stopped. They were idling and not straining. I looked through the glasses. There was a column of vehicles. Two tanks were at the front of the column. They had Panzer Grenadiers on them and there were halftracks and lorries. The road was so narrow that they would have to travel at the speed of the tanks. The tanks were still idling. As the noise grew louder I dropped to the ground and I crawled. When I reached the ridgeline I was able to look down. There were two of the King Tigers. They were enormous beasts. With them they had a couple of halftracks. The tankers wore their black overalls but the Panzer Grenadiers had the white camouflage capes. Once I had dragged my eyes away from the enormous behemoths I saw why they had stopped. There were about a hundred to a hundred and fifty captured Americans standing in a forlorn group. The two halftracks had their machine guns trained on them.
I moved the rifle so that I could look down the telescopic sights. The Americans had been disarmed. I saw an officer speaking on a field telephone. He then gave orders and four MG 42 machine guns were set up so that the prisoners were enfiladed. I wondered what was going on.
“Gordy, go and bring the motorbike here. We should be hidden and the noise of the German engines will disguise the sound of the
bike. I want to watch what is going on.”
“Sir.”
I saw movement from the direction of Malmedy. I took out my binoculars. It was three American trucks. They were escorted by another two halftracks. They stopped and more American prisoners were disgorged. Malmedy had been captured! The prisoners were herded together. As soon as the Germans moved back I knew what was going to happen. I grabbed my rifle. I was too late. The machine guns opened up. They were massacring the prisoners. I saw some, at the rear, run towards the trees. Even as I watched the rest of the Germans opened up. It was when I saw a young soldier almost reach the trees only to be pitched to the ground that I snapped. I aimed at the nearest machine gunner and shot him. There was so much firing that the other gunners did not notice. His loader looked around for the killer but did not think to look behind him. I shot another three machine gunners before someone saw the flash from my gun and attention was switched to me. The delay afforded others the chance to flee.
I did not panic. I still had more bullets. I fired at the gunner in the nearest halftrack. I saw the commander of one of the Tigers swing his machine gun around. I shot him and the second Tiger’s hatch clanged shut. The Panzer Grenadiers were now trying to get up the slope to reach me. It was virgin snow and they were struggling. They were firing as they ran. Their bullets were wasted for they flew high. I saw survivors from the American prisoners reach the tree line. Some had escaped. The majority lay in bloody piles where they had been murdered. I heard the motor bike behind me as I fired the last bullet from my second magazine. Drawing a German grenade from my battle dress I smashed the porcelain cap and then threw it down the slope. I rolled backwards rather than risking a bullet.