by Griff Hosker
“Sergeant Major, just obey the orders. The Germans are going nowhere. We need you fighting fit eh?”
“Yes sir. How is it at the bridge?”
I smiled and spread my arms, “What bridge? A King Tiger tried to cross it and found that it was too heavy. There is no bridge to defend but it means they are reinforcing Trois Ponts. I had better report to the Colonel. Get well first!”
I left the makeshift hospital and asked a Pfc, who was clutching a bleeding arm, where Colonel Devine was to be found.
“The Command Post is a hundred yards past the crossroads sir. There used to be a farmhouse on the right. It is there, sir.”
“Thanks son.”
“How is it going down at the bridge, sir?”
“Don’t you worry about that. The bridge is not a problem anymore.”
When I had last left the crossroads, and that had been some few hours earlier, there had been a few houses. Now there was rubble and the charred remains of a couple of Shermans, a halftrack and a Mark IV panzer. There was a tiny gap between the German tank and the closest Sherman. It had been close fighting. I saw bodies in both grey and olive green littering the road and the remains of the buildings. Bullets zipped overhead and I zig zagged across to the Command Post. They had dug in a Sherman next to the wall. I saw that the Sherman had thrown a track but the gun still worked.
Gordy and I dashed behind the Sherman as a German MG 42 let rip. Bullets pinged off the tank. Inside I saw the two Colonels and Captain Stewart. There was a sergeant with a clipboard. They looked up as we ducked beneath the taut canvas they were using to protect themselves from the elements.
“Has the bridge fallen, Tom?”
I smiled, “Quite literally sir. It and a King Tiger are now in the bottom of the river.”
A smile spread across the Colonel’s face. “That is some good news. We can use the men you have there. Things are going slowly here.”
“You have made ground, sir. Yesterday you were a couple of hundred yards further east.”
“The real estate is expensive here.”
Colonel Cavender said, “You had better fill him in, Jack. We are running out of officers. You and I have used all of our luck up.”
“Chuck is right, Tom. We’ll begin with the bad news. We have no Shermans left. The last one threw a track. We have advanced as far as we can. We have tried to move forward but each time their machine guns and mortars throw us back. On the positive side they don’t appear to have any Panzerfausts left so if we do get tanks we might be able to advance. They also appear to have no tanks either.”
“That will change, sir. The two tanks we didn’t destroy are heading with their Panzer Grenadiers up the other side of the river. I am guessing that Jerry still holds Trois Ponts. If they do, then they can cross and they will be heading down here. They will be bringing more men to the fight than those who fought with me.”
“There is more good news. The British have reinforced the Elsenborn Ridge. General Hodge is sending men down the Malmedy Road. General Gavin and the All-American Division are attacking the 1st SS and we have been told that we have had the last of the snow. They will send aeroplanes up. That single flight yesterday helped us out. That Panzer you see out there was about to break through when they hit it with rockets.”
I looked at my watch. It was 1010 hours. “When can we expect the reinforcements, sir?”
“Any time today. The roads, as you know are narrow and clogged. The change in weather might help but we can’t change the terrain.” He cocked an eye. “You have something in mind, Major?”
“Yes sir, dig in and defend. Their tanks and reinforcements will be here before ours. The burned out tanks are obstacles. Put men behind them. When they come the tanks will have to come down this road. They will have to negotiate the damaged tanks. We just hold on.”
Colonel Cavender nodded, “My men are all in and that sounds like a good plan. It is soul destroying to keep advancing into machine guns and watching your buddies die.”
“Okay, Tom, bring your men and equipment up and watch out for that machine gun. They have managed to get it in the upper floor of the last building they have standing. It is almost three quarters of a mile away but they are hard to shift.”
“Right sir, Gordy, go and fetch the men and all the weapons. Set up to the left of the wrecked Mark IV.”
The machine gun opened fire at our movement. The bullets missed because there were just two of us. Had there been more then we might have suffered casualties. The machine gun post needed eliminating. I returned to the command post. Captain Stewart said, “Sir, we are running out of mortar shells but we have plenty of smoke grenades. Why don’t we use a smoke screen when Major Harsker’s men arrive? It will minimise casualties.”
“Good idea, Captain, see to it.”
Colonel Cavender said, “One good thing about this disaster is that it is making my officers think a little more about how to fight. Since D-Day the Krauts have been on the back foot. This is showing what they are capable of.”
“Sir, we have done well. When they came in 1940 they had passed Brussels in about seven days. We have held them up and shown them that we know how to fight. In 1940 we ran.”
“To be fair to you guys the Germans had air superiority in those days. We haven’t seen a German aeroplane since the offensive began.”
I remembered what the Squadron Leader had said about the new aircraft they were producing. If they were as good as their new tanks then we were in trouble. Just at that moment I heard a sudden fusillade and a Corporal came running in, “Sir, they are attacking again!”
We all ran out. I only had my Colt and my Luger. They would have to do. I took shelter next to the front main drive sprocket of the Sherman. The Panzer Grenadiers were moving as we would if we were attacking. They came in pairs. One fired and the other ran. I took aim at a pair who were a hundred yards from me. I took a two handed stance and rested the barrel on the Sherman. I squeezed three shots at the two of them. One fell clutching his middle while the other was hit in the knee. I moved to my right An officer was urging his men on. I fired another two shots. One hit his arm and he dropped his pistol and took shelter.
The line of Americans was perilously thin. The Sherman’s machine gun rattled out but I only heard two other American Brownings. We needed the weapons from the bridge. Then I remembered the Browning on the top of the turret. I holstered my pistol and went around the back. I clambered up and stood so that the turret protected most of my body. My head was exposed. I kept it down as I grabbed hold of the Browning’s pistol grip and cocked it. I saw that the belt was already in the left hand side. It looked to have already fired a quarter of the 600 rounds. I had been told that, to avoid a cook-off, I should only fire three or four rounds at a time. Taking a breath I stood and began to fire. The Germans were within a hundred feet. To my left I glimpsed the two Colonels firing their pistols. I started directly in front of the Sherman and fired four bullets then traversed a little and fired again. Bullets pinged off the turret. Below me the tank’s machine gunner was firing too. The Sherman belched flame and smoke as it fired AP at the German halftrack which had just emerged. Its machine gun was adding to the fire. I forced myself to ignore the steel jacketed bullets which would have torn my body to shreds had they hit me.
I kept firing as I turned the gun through 90 degrees. Then the Sherman’s second shell hit the halftrack and tore through the engine block. The German gun was still firing. I swung the barrel of the Browning back around and fired at the German gunner. I hit his loader and he traversed to fire at me. It was like an old fashioned duel. I had slightly more protection from the turret and, in the end, that proved decisive. My third burst hit his head and I saw, at a hundred yard’s range, it explode like a ripe plum. I switched back to the infantry. I saw a grenade being thrown.
Colonel Devine shouted, “Grenade!” and they took cover.
I gambled on the protection of the tank and, as a second Panzer Grenadier smashed the po
rcelain cap on his grenade I shot him. His hand was already on the cord, gravity pulled the grenade from his hand and it exploded. It scythed through the men around him. The wounded officer blew his whistle and they began to fall back.
The hatch opened and the tank commander’s head popped out. I smiled, “Sorry about borrowing your gun, Sergeant.”
He grinned, “You are welcome sir, but, if you don’t mind me saying so sir, you are as mad as a sack full of frogs!”
I nodded. “I have been told that, Sergeant.” As I was climbing down the distant machine gun fired again and the sergeant’s head disappeared.
Captain Stewart shouted, “Launch the smoke bombs!”
As the mortars popped I heard feet on the road behind. It was my men from the bridge. I slid from the back of the tank. Corporal Hewitt handed me my Bergen and my weapons. “You seem to draw Germans like flies sir!”
“I know. I think I might need to change my underwear eh? Have the men get under as much cover as they can while the smoke is there. I am going back on the tank and see if I can’t do something about that machine gun.”
I placed the Bergen and my MP 34 behind the tank’s turret and, grabbing the Mauser and a few clips of ammunition, climbed back to the turret. The smoke obscured the distant house. I adjusted the sight and loaded a round. My worry was that the Germans still had their sniper on the hill. No one had said anything but if he was there then, as soon as I started firing, he would target me. The smoke also obscured the hill and the wind was blowing it in that direction. I glanced to my left and saw that Sergeant Henry and Sergeant Barker had organized the men well. The German and American machine guns we had brought more than doubled our fire power. The sky was clear. Our Headquarters would send air sorties. I hoped that they had rockets.
In the distanced I heard the ominous rumble of tanks. The Mark IVs were coming. The hatch of the tank was still open. I shouted, “Sergeant I would load more AP. There are a couple of Mark IVs they are heading in this direction.”
“Thanks for the heads up, sir.”
I knew that, unless they had bowsers with them then these two tanks would be almost out of petrol They drank it at a rate of one mile per gallon. That didn’t help us that much. They still had their guns and with three inches of armour at the front the Sherman would have to be at point blank range to do any good.
As the smoke began to thin the distant machine gun began to fire. It was using short bursts. The targets were my men moving into position. I aimed at the gunner. The telescopic sight brought him into focus. I forced myself to breathe slowly and to count in my head. There was a rhythm to such things. I slowly squeezed the trigger. I was slightly off and the bullet just sent splinters of brick to shower the gunner and his loader. I loaded another round as the gunner traversed. I aimed a little lower and fired. The bullet must have hit the gun and then the gunner. It hit him in the chest. He half rose as I loaded another bullet and fired it at the gun again. The gunner and gun tumbled from the building, That threat was gone. As I looked through the sights and traversed right I saw the next threat. It was the soldiers and tanks from the bridge. Round two was about to begin.
I clambered down again, “Colonel, the Germans are sending their tanks in again.”
He nodded, “Colonel Cavender is on the radio to Headquarters. He is trying to call in an air strike.”
I looked at the sky. There was still time. “I will go and join my men, sir. They have Panzer Grenadiers with them.”
I picked up my Bergen and guns and ran, crouching towards my men on the left. They had used the cover of the smoke to pile broken masonry and bricks into emplacements. That had been the movement the German machine gunner had seen. I noticed that Sergeant Henry was at one end of our line and Sergeant Barker at the other. Sergeant Ford and Corporal Powers were in the middle. It gave a continuity of command. These were good soldiers.
“German Tanks are coming. If we get the chance we will have to try to disable them with grenades.”
The sergeants just nodded at the ridiculous suggestion. We had gone beyond sanity. We had fought for more than a week already. Men were exhausted and hungry. Most had had little sleep and there was not a soldier without an injury of some description. Yet they kept on going and the reason was simple. They were not fighting for the Army, or even America, they were fighting for their brothers in arms. This was personal.
I laid four grenades on the piece of stone before me and a spare clip for my MP 34. I reloaded my Luger. I had no ammunition left for either the Colt or the Thompson. The reinforcements and supplies could not get here quick enough. The sound of the German tanks grew louder as they approached. I heard the crack as they both fired and instinctively ducked. The Sherman fired back a heartbeat later. The Sherman erupted like a Roman candle. Two 75 mm shells had stuck it at almost the same time. The sergeant and his crew would have known very little about it. I saw that the Sherman’s shell hand struck the leading Mark IV just above the driving sprocket. Although it was still moving I hoped that the AP shell had not just penetrated the skirting but also damaged the track.
Now that the armour was out of the way the two tanks could concentrate their fire on us. The two guns belched fire. They had targeted the tumble of vehicles which blocked the road. Their machine guns swept from side to side. We were hunkered down and protected but it meant that their infantry could advance without fear of fire. I raised my MP 34 above the stone and sprayed a magazine from side to side. I reloaded.
Captain Stewart commanded the mortars. They were the only weapon we could fire. They would do little against the armour but they could cause casualties amongst the infantry. At least we were hitting back. I risked a looked over our wall. The tanks were two hundred yards away and were flanked by their Panzer Grenadiers. They were too far away to accurately hit. I had wasted a whole magazine. Even as I looked the leading Panzer belched fire as it fired at the halftrack which blocked its path. It was frustrating. We had nothing with which to fight the tanks. It did not matter that they were only Mark IVs. They were still too powerful for what we had left.
Machine gun bullets peppered the stone walls before us. It was now a matter of time. I saw one of Sergeant Henry’s men raise his body above the parapet to fire his BAR. He had the range. He was thrown back by a mixture of machine gun fire and the rifles from the infantry. I picked up the Mauser. At least I would die fighting. I slid the gun across the stones and then raised my head to look down the sights. I saw the commander of a tank. He was looking at us through binoculars. I fired two bullets into him. At a hundred and fifty yards he was a huge target. Then I switched to the Panzer Grenadiers close by the tank. I emptied the magazine and then ducked as retribution followed.
Pfc Mason shouted, “Steady on sir!”
Reloading my rifle, I turned and grinned, “You only live once, Mason. There are three dead Germans. That is three less for us to fight!”
“Are all Limeys as crazy as you, sir?”
“Probably!”
I honestly expected to die and then, suddenly, from behind us came the whoosh of rockets. The first tank disappeared, along with the panzer grenadiers, in a fireball. A few moments later the second tank was hit by the P47 Thunderbolts which had come roaring in. The next aeroplane hit the two halftracks which followed. All three aeroplanes strafed the German infantry before climbing high and heading north.
“Up, let’s finish them!” I levelled my Mauser and fired until it was empty. The heavy machine guns operated by my men now came into play and they chopped through the S.S. The ground before us became a charnel house. The two tanks both exploded as the ammunition was ignited. It laid low all the Germans standing around them.
Colonel Cavender shouted, “Let’s drive them back! Charge!”
All he needed was a horse and it would have been perfect. I slipped my Mauser over my back and grabbed my MP 34. “Come on boys! Let’s follow the Colonel.” Corporal Powers was next to me, “Go and tell Colonel Devine we are pursuing the enemy.”
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“Sir.”
As I jumped over the wall two Germans rose before me just twenty feet from me. I reacted instinctively and I fired. The gun sliced them in two. I ran towards the burning tanks. My men followed and any German whose hands did not come up was shot. None surrendered but many ran. I emptied my magazine. I saw, to my left, a dead German who also had an MP 34. I quickly took his spare magazines and his hand grenades. Sergeant Henry led my men past me. He was screaming like a Sioux Indian at Little Big Horn. Gordy Barker waved forward the Americans who had attached themselves to him. There was a steely determination about all of them. We had triumphed at the river and, expecting to die, we were reborn.
I reloaded and followed. The loss of the two tanks and the reinforcements had been a body blow to the Germans. Positions were abandoned. The three Thunderbolts had broken the back of the German defence. I caught up with Sergeant Henry half a mile from the burning tanks. Suddenly he pitched forward, clutching his shoulder. I could not see any Germans. Then I realised I could see the hill. The German sniper had struck.
“Medic!” I took a dressing from his patch pocket and pressed it to his shoulder. He was awake. “Hold this tight!”
“Damn! We have our first piece of luck and I get hit!”
“Don’t worry, Sarge, you will be back!”
As the Medics ran up there was the sound of a Mauser and the first medic fell clutching his ankle. Colonel Cavender caught up with us.
“Who the hell is shooting, Major?” Just then there was another bark and the Colonel fell clutching his arm.
“It is a sniper!”
I switched guns and, zig zagging, ran towards the hill. It was less than three quarters of a mile away. I saw a flash and dived to the ground sideways. I wanted the sniper to think he had hit me. I heard the bullet zip over my head. I crawled to the right where there was a wrecked German halftrack. I took shelter behind it. I slowed down my breathing. I crawled behind the front wheels. I saw the hill and I saw the flash from the sniper. He was six hundred yards from me. I raised my rifle and braced it on my arm. I had to look for the flash of his muzzle. It was infuriating because it meant another of our men would, in all likelihood, die. I had a rough idea where the flash would come and I was ready. I saw him. He was well camouflaged and he was using the bole of a tree for protection Only his head and his gun were visible. I aimed at the V of the tree. I had my breathing under control and I squeezed the trigger. I saw a spark; my bullet must have struck his rifle and then he fell back. I put another bullet in the chamber and lowered my aim. I could see a leg. I fired a second shot and, through the sights, I saw blood spurt from his knee. I had damaged his gun and wounded him. He was no longer a threat.