by Griff Hosker
“I will go and have a word. Thanks, Tom.” As we left the building a jeep pulled up and Sergeant Major O’Rourke got out. The Colonel grinned. He was pleased to see his old warhorse. “I thought you were wounded?”
“A scratch. I found this jeep just doing nothing and I followed the Engineers up.” He pointed to the Engineers who were now taking their equipment from their trucks. He nodded towards the back seat. “And I found a couple of Bazookas and rockets.”
The Colonel shook his head, “They will be no good at all against anything bigger than an APC.”
The Sergeant Major looked hurt, “Better than we had at Stavelot, sir.”
“You are right. I need to find the general. The Major here seems to think that we might have Germans trying to get back to their own lines form the north. Have the men dig pits to the north of the town in the woods and put the Bazookas there along with the .30 and .50 calibre machine guns.”
“Right sir.”
I pointed to Albert’s house. “You will find Sergeant Barker and Sergeant Ford in there. They have had a long enough lie in.”
I took my gun and headed towards the tree line. There was a small road which twisted along the small stream that fed the river. The water headed through the forest. That would be the place to put the anti-tank guns. The trees were too close together for the German heavy tanks. I was not worried about the smaller Armoured Personnel Carriers and halftracks. We could stop those with grenades, Bazookas and machine guns. We had to do something to stop the tanks. I walked up the road. The snow was still packed. The skies might have cleared, allowing aeroplanes to fly sorties but the air was still cold enough to leave snow and ice on the ground. The tracks I saw were those of big tanks. The Germans had gone north. Now they would be hunted from the air. I looked up and saw that the canopy of trees effectively hid the road from aerial surveillance. The fighters would have to hunt these big cats.
I left the road and went into the woods. I only saw the tracks of animals. The Germans had used the road when they had headed north. When I had seen the map I noticed that this was the main road to Stourmont. Unless the Germans wanted to try and break through the Airborne Division they would have to return down this road. It confirmed what I had told the Colonel. Even if they ran out of petrol they would still have to come down this road. It was the safest route for them.
I turned and headed back. Of course they could try to reinforce their gains and that would also mean coming across the bridge which we were now, obligingly, erecting for them. Whichever way you cut it they would be coming through Trois Ponts. I could not leave my new comrades until this threat was over. I had missed Christmas. When I was certain that the Americans had secured their lines then we would leave.
I met Sergeant Major O’Rourke talking with Sergeant Ford and Sergeant Barker. I pointed up the road. “The tanks will be coming down this road and the infantry through the trees. Did the Colonel get the 3 pounders?”
“Just two of them sir.”
“Then have them dug in on either side of the road. Use sand from the river to fill bags. The Bazookas and machine guns should be in the woods.”
“We have four mortars too, sir.”
“Then two here and two watching the bridge.”
“The bridge sir?”
“Yes Sergeant Ford, just because we have reinforced our lines doesn’t mean that Jerry won’t do the same. We need to watch both sides of the bridge.”
Sergeant Barker said, “But you think this will be the side they will come.”
“I do and it will be the best panzer general the Germans have who will be leading them. This will not be easy.”
It took until the middle of the afternoon for us make the north section of our perimeter defensible. Until the Engineers had finished we could do nothing at the bridge. Colonel Devine joined me to inspect the defences. “The trouble is Colonel, that the ground is frozen. We can’t put slit trenches in.”
“We will just cut down some of the trees. If we take the ones behind us it will make it easier for us to fall back if we have to. Pfc Mason seems to fancy himself as Paul Bunyan. Give the job to him, Sergeant Major O’Rourke.”
I was just heading back to the river when one of the Headquarters’ corporals found me. “Sir, here are your travel orders from the General. He says there is a jeep which has to be returned to Malmedy. You have the authority to use that.”
I smiled; Sergeant Major O’Rourke would have something to say about that. The thing about disobeying a direct order was that you could just ignore it, if you were clever enough. “Thank you Corporal.” I took the envelope from him. “It is a little late in the day to travel. We will leave in the morning, Thank the general for me will you.”
“Yes sir but I think he thought you and your men would leave as soon as possible.”
I pointed to Albert’s house. “We need to say goodbye to our hosts from last night. Tomorrow will be fine, Corporal.”
I assiduously avoided the general who was fretting that the bridging was not going as smoothly as he had hoped. I was reassured by the number of aeroplanes which flew over us. They told me that the Germans would not be having it all their own way for much longer. Nothing had been said about our accommodation. I wondered if we could impose upon Albert and his wife for a second night. My fears were groundless.
Albert beckoned me over as I re-entered the hamlet. “Major, we have not seen you all day. Have you eaten? Where are your men?”
“We have imposed enough, Albert. We will get our gear and…”
“Nonsense, my wife has prepared food for you all. She will be upset if it is not eaten.”
“Albert, I think the Germans will come back.”
He nodded, “Down the road from Stourmont?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
“It is obvious. The alternative is a long drive for their tanks. I do not think they will do that.”
“When the bridge is built you should go to the other side. You need to tell all the villagers.”
“But you will be staying?”
“We will stay but we are soldiers and we have an enemy to fight.”
“We are not soldiers but this is our land. We lost it in 1940 along with my sons. We will not lose it a second time. We will stay. Besides I have watched you, Major. You are a soldier. You know how to fight. You do not like to lose. I do not think that the Boche will win. You and the Americans are better soldiers. Tell your men the food will be ready in an hour.”
We heard the tanks heading across the bridge at 2200. I don’t think that the General was pleased with the delay but the Engineers had worked manfully to get their first bridge across. The second one, the railway bridge would take longer and the third one might have to wait until peace came to this part of Belgium.
I went to the Command Post to speak with the Colonel as the last of the tanks trundled over the bridge. I saw engineers repairing their hastily erected bridge. The general had crossed it too soon and it needed attention. The Captain who was in command shook his head. “Nothing else gets over here until I have checked every nut and bolt personally. If this collapses it will be the devil’s own job to get another one in place.”
I gestured with my thumb behind me. “How are your guys at fighting?”
His face fell, “Fighting? Isn’t it over? They said the Germans were falling back.”
“They have said that before. All I am saying, Captain, is that there are still German tanks to the north of us and the best part of a German S.S. Division. This little bridge is the only way they can get back to the Fatherland. Think about it.”
“Jesus! Perhaps I won’t bother tightening the nuts and bolts after all.”
“It doesn’t really matter. Can your bridge take a 70 ton tank?” I saw him look at the structure which suddenly looked flimsy. “I have been close to one of them. The vibration demolished the gable end of a house. Just tell your men to keep their weapons handy. The river bank makes a perfect trench. They can just run across to the
other side. They will be safe there.”
“Thanks Major. I appreciate the heads up.”
Before I turned in I visited the Command Post. Sergeant O’Rourke was doing the paperwork with his two corporal clerks. “Any news, Sergeant Major?”
“The Krauts have been stopped, sir. We are pushing them back. The Air Force has been pounding them all day. The general has managed to link up with the Airborne. Things are looking good.”
“Don’t tempt fate. So far so good. Any news of the 1st S.S. and their tanks?”
“They left Stourmont but they disappeared into the forest. They are hard to track. There is another of our tank battalions heading down from Huy. Perhaps they may have news.”
I had a second night in Albert’s house and a full night’s sleep once more. As Sergeant Major O’Rourke pointed out, we couldn’t do sentry duty as the general had ordered us out of the area. I was still awake early. Albert’s wife, Clothilde, had baked fresh bread and it was the smell of it which drew me to the kitchen.
She smiled when she saw me, “You remind me of Christian, my eldest. He was like you quietly spoken. He would have been your age.” I could see she was getting upset. I didn’t say a word. I just put my hand on hers. I left it there and she began to smile. She leaned down and kissed my cheek. “Forgive a silly old woman. But you are a kind man. As my Albert said, you are a gentleman. I will go and fetch the coffee.”
On the table was home-made butter. It reminded me of my grandmother’s and there was wild blackberry jam. That too was home made. The bread was still warm. I spread the butter on it and it melted and then smeared the wild blackberry jam on it. I was just biting into it when the coffee arrived. Everything was delicious and I left the house with a spring in my step. It had been quiet all night. Perhaps the tanks had run out of petrol. Even as the thought flickered through my mind I dismissed it. That just meant they would be coming on foot. One way or another they had to get back across the river. We would be fighting Germans and soon.
I joined the men at the forest. I looked critically at the emplacements. The two anti-tank guns had been heavily disguised. They needed all the camouflage they could get. They could damage a tank but one hit from a Panzer of any type would destroy the guns. They were not armoured. The gunners would have to hope that the tanks did not know they were anti-tank guns. The closer the range the more chance they had of scoring an effective hit. They just needed to stop the leading tank.
The gunners had a small brazier and they were gathered around it. I walked over to them. They looked young. There was a lieutenant in command. “Sir, will the Krauts be coming down this road?”
“Yes Lieutenant and the weakest tank they have with them is a Mark IV. When we fought them at Stavelot they had Panthers and King Tigers.”
He shook his head. “We have to be very lucky to score a hit on one of those, sir.”
I pointed down the road. “They are not cross country tanks. They will have to come down here. If you know your ranges then you can use that to your advantage. If you stop one then you stop them all.”
“And then what sir?”
“And then we take on their Panzer Grenadiers. We kill them then we can take their tanks.”
“You make it sound simple sir.”
“I wish it was Lieutenant, I wish it was.”
Knowing that we would have to fight the Germans here I left all of my equipment by the guns. The Bergen held everything I needed except for my machine pistol and rifle. The trees had been cut down from behind us and were now a formidable barrier in front of the guns. They would give protection from shells fired with a flat trajectory. If, however, they had mobile artillery then falling shot could destroy them. I looked up at the canopy of branches. Nature might well come to our aid.
The Defences at Trois Ponts 26-27th December
Chapter 13
Colonel Devine had skirmishers some way in the forest and it was their rifles which told us that the Germans were coming. The three survivors hurtled into our lines like March hares.
“S.S. sir, right behind us.”
Captain Stewart asked, “Tanks?”
“We heard them sir but they were in the distance.”
“Then these are their scouts and we have time. Go to the Command Post and tell the Colonel.”
“Sir.”
He turned to me, “Any suggestions, Major?”
I nodded, “Sergeant Barker, get Hewitt and Powers. Let’s go and discourage their scouts.”
I went to my Bergen and donned my German camouflage cape. It was no longer as white as it had been and was splattered with blood, mud and soot. I took my Mauser. If they were scouts then they would not be moving in numbers. We needed to keep them away from us for as long as possible. If they knew we had anti-tank guns then they would simply lay down a barrage and destroy them before they could even fire. My three soldiers quickly dressed in their camouflage capes and I waved them forward. I led them well to the east, away from the road. I wanted to flank the Germans. They would keep close to the road. They were finding a safe route for their precious King Tiger tanks.
As we moved into the forest I heard the sound of the German tanks to the north and west. The road was narrow and the King Tiger was over 12 feet wide. It did not manoeuvre well. It would have to drive down the very narrow road cautiously. I led the other three who fanned out behind me. I turned and headed north. I took comfort from the fact that there were no footprints in the snow. I used my sense of smell as well as my eyes and ears. The wind was from the north. I caught the distinctive whiff of petrol. The King Tiger leaked. They were also vulnerable from the rear. I wondered if we should try to get men around the rear with Bazookas. Then I dismissed the idea. They would be surrounded by Panzer Grenadiers.
I saw movement and I dived to the ground. There, just two hundred yards from us, were the German infantry. They were moving in a loose skirmish line. There were twelve of them. I waved my men to left and right and then levelled my rifle. I aimed at the officer who was leading. I squeezed the trigger and a heartbeat later my men opened up. The initial volley worked. Eight of them fell. Not all were dead but there were only four who could fire back. Their bullets shredded the trees above our heads. They were firing at the smoke. Our camouflage had fooled them. I squeezed another shot off and hit a sergeant who was firing an MP 35.
“I’ll keep their heads down. Move left and right.” I moved methodically across the remaining three Germans. Some were sheltering behind their dead. I fired to keep them looking down. When I reloaded they began to fire back. Then I heard Corporal Hewitt shout, “Grenade!”
There was an explosion and then Gordy shouted, “All clear sir!”
I stood and sprinted over to the Germans. Gordy was already searching them. “Sir, they only have a couple of grenades each and very little ammunition.”
Just then bullets zipped from the north. I looked up and saw German halftracks. Behind them I saw the tanks. The column was being led by Panthers. Perhaps they had no King Tigers left. We had done enough. They would be more cautious from now on. “Run!” The trees helped us. We zig zagged through them. I heard bullets striking the trees but we were hard to spot in our white camouflage capes in a white world of snow and snow covered trees.
As we neared our lines I yelled, “Friendlies coming in.”
Just then there was a cry from behind and Sergeant Barker said, “Hewitt’s hit sir.”
I whirled around and knelt. He was still alive but hurt. “You two take him back. I will cover you.” The two of them were big men and they each took an arm and half carried, half dragged him towards our lines. I saw what had shot him. A Kubelwagen with a machine gun was whizzing through the trees. The nippy little work horse was ideally suited to this type of work. I had driven one and I knew. It had been a lucky shot that had managed to hit Hewitt. The Kubelwagen had been bouncing around but that was war. Sometimes you had the luck and sometimes not. I aimed at the swerving vehicle. The bullets were zipping all around m
e. Due to the terrain most struck the tree above me. I fired four bullets as the Kubelwagen came across my sights. One must have struck the driver for he lurched to the side, taking the wheel with him. Ordinarily they might have all survived but the slippery surface and the trees meant that, as the wheels spun, it turned and two wheels came off the ground. The weight of the falling driver added to the momentum and the Kubelwagen crashed into the bole of a tree. Flames shot up in the air and then there was an explosion as the fuel tank ignited. I turned and hurried after the others.
One effect of our ambush appeared to be that the Germans spread out further from the road. I had not expected that. Our right flank was a little more exposed. As I hurtled through the outer defences I shouted, “Sergeant, angle the machine gun so that you are not flanked!”
Sergeant Locatelli nodded, “Yes sir! Nice shooting!”
I had to twist and turn through the labyrinth of tree stumps that Mason and his men had laid out. Covered with snow they would trip men and slow halftracks down. As the front wheels rose up they would be a target for grenades and Bazookas. I saw that Hewitt was being attended to by two medics.
“How is he, Gordy?”
“He caught one in the shoulder.” He shook his head, “He is out of this fight!”
The medics, having applied a dressing, put him on a stretcher and scurried away. At least we now had a doctor at the bridge and ambulances. Hewitt had a chance.
I looked at Gordy who shook his head, “The odds of us two surviving, sir, are getting longer by the minute.”
“Just concentrate on fighting Jerry. There is no point in worrying. If a bullet has our name on it then we can do nothing about it.” I turned to the artillerymen. “The column is led by Panthers. There is no point firing at their glacis. Aim for the tracks or the turret.”
“They are small targets, sir.”
“I know Lieutenant, just do your best.” I turned to Captain Stewart. “The Bazookas might stand a chance if the Panthers give them a flank shot.”