No Victory in Valhalla Page 11

  At least two machine guns from the machine-gun platoon were attached to G Co during the operation. As Cpl Jim Melhus recalls,

  I was manning a .30cal with Pvt Vince “Mike” Michael [G Co] alongside a couple of bazooka teams when the tanks attacked the village and blew the roof off the house we were using. At that point everyone pulled back to the woods. As we were withdrawing, halfway between the house and a large rectangular barn, “Mike” and I picked up an abandoned bazooka along with three rockets and decided to engage two Panthers that were by now only a short distance away on the road between Recogne and Foy. We were shaking in our boots as the first tank trundled closer but failed to spot us. “Mike” loaded and wired up the tube, and we waited until the tank passed the building so that its turret would no longer be able to turn in our direction. The bazooka round exploded into the engine compartment and a few seconds later the tank ground to a halt. As the second Panther drove up it stopped behind the one I’d just knocked out so we decided to regroup with the others.

  Stan Clever’s actions purchased G Co enough time to consolidate their new positions and earned him the Bronze Star for Valor. By 1100hrs, H and I companies followed suit, and the MLR was reorganized along the northern edge of the Bois Champay between Foy and Recogne.

  On the slope above Foy, Hank DiCarlo and Pfc Bill Briggs knocked out the second Mk V Panzer seen earlier by Jim Melhus, as it advanced toward them:

  We happened to be in the finger of woods looking at the right flank of the tank. After borrowing a bazooka and a couple of rockets from 3 Ptn, we crawled within 20 yards of our intended target. The crew seemed oblivious to our presence and continued firing into the tree line behind us. Bill loaded the 30in-long projectile while I did my best to keep my hands steady before placing an AP round between the bogie wheels and the upper track. The tank was now close enough for us to be underneath the traverse of the turret. My lucky shot penetrated the side armor and began to set off the ammunition inside. Briggs and I ran into the shelter of the woods before looking back to check on our handiwork. I was half expecting to see the gun turn in our direction but instead the Panther started to reverse down the hill. As it moved away the crew jumped out and ran back toward Foy. We all cheered as Cpl Buck Bowitz from 4th Squad, who was covering us, shot and killed the commander as he dashed away from the vehicle… I think we all earned our Para Pay that day.

  During the withdrawal Pvt Bob Kangas (3 Ptn I Co) was badly hurt and lying helpless out in the open. Ironically Kangas, who came from San Gabriel, California, had only just returned from hospital after being seriously wounded in Normandy. Pfc Ed Petrowski climbed out of his newly dug foxhole and ran over to Kangas, as DiCarlo recalls: “Petrowski was dragging the injured guy and just before they reached the tree line a mortar round exploded close by, hitting Ed. Despite being injured, Petrowski made sure that he got the wounded man into a trench and lay on top of the trooper, shielding him from further harm. Several of us ran over to help load them both in the back of a jeep for evacuation. These guys were total strangers, yet Ed risked his life to save the other fellow because he felt it was the right thing to do.” Sadly Bob Kangas died a few hours later. In contrast, Capt Walker lacerated his hand on a tin can while jumping into a foxhole. “After reporting to the aid station for treatment, Walker’s name was entered in the medical diary and he was subsequently awarded a Purple Heart, which we all thought was totally inappropriate,” recalls Lou Vecchi.

  Young Maguy Marenne was still sheltering with her family and around 40 other people from Foy in the basement of Jules Koeune’s house. She recalls:

  Earlier that morning the fighting was going on right outside the house and we could tell that the troops were American because their boots didn’t make as much noise as the German hobnails on the road. While looking through one of the slit windows facing the main street, I saw an American soldier fall to the ground. One of the men sheltering with us in the cellar ran out into the open to see if he could help the wounded paratrooper. In the time it took for him to reach the stricken soldier, the Germans had already removed the man’s boots. Soon afterwards the enemy began shooting into the basement windows from the Gaspard house across the street – next door to the school. During the battle, a German AP tank shell fired from the direction of Noville penetrated the cellar, and passed through two rooms before coming to rest in a pile of fruit!

  Had the enemy tank commander been using a high explosive (HE) projectile, then everyone sheltering in the basement would certainly have been killed.

  The following day when things had calmed down, Maguy was allowed to go outside for a few minutes along with Héléne Gaspard and her two baby sons. Héléne’s house, which was just across the road, had previously been used by Bob Stroud as his CP on December 20. Maguy continues:

  We played for a short time on the open area in front of the stable before I returned to the basement, leaving Mme Gaspard, eight-month old José, and two-year-old Guy outside. Moments later a shell landed on the road directly opposite the stable, killing Héléne and Guy instantly. Afterwards the Germans decided that they wanted to occupy the entire building and ordered everyone to relocate to the next farm owned by the Cordonniers. Conditions at Cordonnier were primitive, especially the toilet, which was a bucket in the center of the room. Teenage mother Ghislaine Bastin used the opportunity to break away from the group and go to Cobru, where she gave birth to a little boy on Christmas Day and called him Noel.

  Because of the poor sanitation, people started going down with dysentery but luckily we weren’t starving. As kids we couldn’t understand why the adults were constantly praying and the tone of their low mumbling voices is still with me today. The Germans gave us black bread, and the women were able to get enough fresh milk from the cows still in the dairy to feed the toddlers. On December 31, the Germans came in and told us to get out by midnight and those who remained would be shot! My mom didn’t believe that they would actually do this, but around 8pm we finally convinced her to leave. That night we walked 5 miles to Hardigny with the Cordonniers along the N30, which had been blocked at regular intervals by blown telephone poles and trees.

  Back in Noville on December 21, a number of officials from the Sicherheitsdienst (SD) arrived to question the locals. Staffed by political idealists, the SD was an intelligence-gathering and security organization with close links to the Gestapo. After establishing their HQ in the school which was previously Desobry’s CP, the SD visited every house in the village to interview the occupants. While carrying out searches photographs were found that had been taken during the liberation on September 10, depicting certain families celebrating alongside American forces. A slogan was also discovered in the church affixed to the wall above the altar which read “Vivent la Belgique et son Roi / Vivent la France et les Allies” (Long live Belgium and the King and long live France and her Allies).

  Several members of the SD team were French and seemed particularly well informed as to whom they wanted to bring in for questioning. During their search the SD arrested 16 civilians, including priest Louis Delvaux, local schoolteacher Auguste Lutgen, Fernand Beaujean (whose house had been used by 1/506 as an aid station), Fernand’s two sons Blaise and Roger, and Michel Stranen, a 22-year-old from the town of Troine in Luxembourg. Ironically Stranen, a “diver,” was on the run and hiding locally with friends at the time while evading the German forced labor program. Escorted by German troops, the men were lined up in front of the church whereupon ten were taken to the school for interrogation.

  When Mme Gilis found out where the SD had taken her husband Louis, she rushed to the schoolhouse to protest the men’s innocence but was told to go home. As she left the building, shortly before midday, all 16 villagers were standing outside the church under armed guard. The “prisoners” were then ordered to clear the N30 of debris. Some, including Louis Delvaux, initially refused and were forced by the SD to continue. As Delvaux walked into the road, he whispered to Louis Gilis, “It’s all over brother – repent your
sins.” A few hours later, satisfied that the road was clear, the SD reassembled the 16 civilians in front of the school. A German officer then produced a list from his pocket and sent home eight people, including Fernand and Blaise Beaujean and Louis Gilis, before adding, “The rest of you, hands on head and follow me.” Delvaux, Lutgen, Roger Beaujean, Stranen, and the remaining four men were marched to a patch of open ground behind the church, where three pits had been dug. As Fernand Beaujean was walking away he heard a number of shots and immediately knew that those left behind had just been executed, including his 21-year-old son Roger.

  ____________

  Oblivious to the situation unfolding in Noville, 3rd Bn dug in at Foy along the edge of the Champay Woods somewhat envious of the Germans who now had the luxury of sleeping in the houses and barns below. Capt Walker, 1/Sgt Gordon Bolles, and the officers from H Co took over “Château Foy,” a small concrete pillbox overlooking the N30. The machine-gun emplacement was situated on the extreme northern edge of the woods, near a local religious landmark known as Croix Ste-Barbe. The bunker was one of three identical fortifications built by the Belgian Army around the village during the 1930s. The other structures were located further northeast and close to the farms owned by Joseph Bastin (father of Ghislaine) and Camille Dumont.

  In 1944, the trees covering the 3rd Bn MLR were planted in such a way as to create two long, dense protrusions – these vitally important features are referred to here as the “Western Finger” and the “Eastern Eye.” At the time G Co was responsible for the largest section of the Bois Champay, covering a front 800 yards wide running east across three sectors before locking in with I Co. 2 Ptn (G Co) were based in the “Western Finger,” which when viewed from above formed a distinctive stepped shoulder pattern in the shape of an outstretched “W.”

  The “Eastern Eye” was located in the sector shared by H and I companies and ultimately became the doorway into Foy for the 506th PIR. Being the closest point to the village, a number of forward OPs were established here, including the 81mm mortar platoon (who had four tubes located in a clearing behind Route Madame). A single line of trees ran northwest midway between the lookout area and the village. At the center of this feature, directly opposite the “Eye,” the tree line broke into a number of isolated clumps, which, over the next three weeks, became forward listening posts. Like most of 3 Ptn I Co, Harold Stedman and Wayman Womack dug in together and insulated the base of their trench with layers of branches and ferns. “As rifle ammunition was still in such short supply,” recalls Stedman, “we took what we had and what could be recovered from the dead and divided it up equally along with other items such as food and candy.”

  S/Sgt Ralph Bennett (3 Ptn H Co) was digging in near the concrete bunker (150 yards east of the “Eye”) with radio operator Gene Johnson, medic Pvt Irving Baldinger and runner Pfc Elmer Swanson. “I’d decided to create a trench big enough for all four of us and we were taking it in turns to dig. The earth was solid and we’d only gone down about 1½ft, when I had the desperate idea of using a hand grenade to soften up the ground. We all ducked down and braced ourselves as the grenade exploded. Unfortunately, the other guys around us weren’t impressed by my brilliant notion. That being said it did the job and nobody got hurt so we ignored the negative comments from rookie replacements privates George Hart and James Sowards, Jr, who were struggling to dig in nearby.”

  The German probing attacks continued on and off throughout the day as Sgt Sam “Dud” Hefner, who had taken over from Ralph Bennett as 60mm mortar sergeant on October 5, recalls: “The crew of a 37mm antitank gun, attached to us from the 81st AA Bn, opened up at about 550 yards on a German tank, which responded by pouring fire directly into our positions.” The first tree burst killed Jim Sowards instantly. Bennett could hear George Hart crying for help and crawled over with Hefner to see what had happened. Hart was lying face down in a shallow shell scrape with a huge gaping hole at the base of his spine and seemed paralyzed from the waist down. The two men carefully eased Hart out of the shallow hole and called over to Baldinger (who was known as “Blackie”) for assistance. Baldinger made the decision to support George’s spinal column and carry him back to the battalion aid station. Reaching Route Madame, the men flagged down a passing medical jeep that happened to be returning to Bastogne. “None of us thought Hart would make it but he did – only to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair,” recalls Bennett.

  Five minutes later during another barrage, Pvt Ralph King, who was manning a machine gun, started to scream. Gene Johnson went over to help and was horrified to see that part of King’s left shoulder had been torn away, exposing the bone:

  Grabbing hold, I dragged Ralph back to the ridge [Route Madame] and sat him against a tree before returning to help the others who included Pfc Adolph Nicolato. In all we evacuated about ten guys out of the immediate danger zone. Before the medics arrived, I did my best to help Ralph, who kept trying to glance down at his injured shoulder. As he slipped deeper into shock, I slapped him across the face shouting, “Don’t you dare pass out on me… Don’t you dare!” At that moment he began to focus and pointed out that I was also bleeding profusely from a head wound. “That’s not mine … it’s probably yours,” I replied, but as I reached up to feel my face he was right … the blood was mine!

  Shortly afterwards the medics arrived and took us all down to the rifle range, which was rapidly filling up with wounded lying all over the floor. It was bitterly cold in that place and the only thing that kept us from starving was bullion soup.

  Hefner’s assistant in 4th Squad, Cpl Jim McCann, adds, “After the barrage we were sounding off names and when it came to Pvt Mike Eliuk there was no response. I scuttled across to check if he was OK and it seemed to me like Mike was asleep. I tried to wake him but he was dead – I couldn’t believe it … he looked so peaceful.”

  Much time was now being spent on improving defenses, as Hank DiCarlo recalls: “The most lethal of enemy action were the ‘tree bursts’ sending shrapnel of all shapes and sizes ripping through branches into our foxholes. Everyone started to cover their trenches with logs, using soil to fill the gaps before pouring on water (mostly urine) that would then freeze to form an almost impenetrable barrier.” H Co established their permanent OP in a farmhouse diagonally opposite the concrete bunker on the eastern side of the N30.

  Number 40 Route de Houffalize was a two-storey building owned by Marcel and Julia Dumont, who had abandoned the property shortly before the battalion arrived. One-half of the house was for domestic use, while the other encompassed a barn containing a small dairy herd. The Dumonts had been proud of their animals but were especially fond of their stunning white horse. When H Co took over, most of the animals except for a few chickens had been killed by artillery. The cows were still in the stalls hanging dead from their nose rings, and the white horse so cherished by the Dumonts was lying outside decapitated in the paddock.

  Twenty-two-year-old Sgt Charles “Chuck” Richards was a squad leader in 3 Ptn at the time and recalls:

  One night “Dud” Hefner, myself, and couple of others were at the OP when two German soldiers approached the house along a side road. In a short burst of gunfire we killed one guy but the other slipped away. After dragging the body into the garden, we took his ID for Capt Walker and left the corpse lying on its right side with one arm outstretched. In the morning when I turned the guy over to check for unit insignia the man’s right arm immediately extended upwards into the air. From then on it became a kind of ritual to shake hands with the Kraut every time we came in or out of the house. I guess we all figured that by doing so it made us feel a lot better off than he was, and not long afterwards somebody took the dead man’s boots.

  On December 23, when the first snow began to fall, the corpse was quickly covered by a thin layer of snow, leaving the extended arm exposed in a pathetic, frozen, Nazi-style salute.

  Over the next 48 hours Hank DiCarlo found himself on constant night patrol:

  I
knew we were short on manpower but I just couldn’t believe we were that desperate. Patrols, at least for me, were a nerve-stretching activity. Creeping across fields, freezing in the glaring light of German flares, always expecting an ambush, got me so keyed up that it took a couple of hours to unwind before I could even think about getting any sleep. By then it was time for the next patrol, but I guess it was the same for everyone. Physical discomfort was a given but constant exposure to the elements began to take its toll. By this time we all had wet feet and those who took their boots off to change socks found it difficult to put them back on due to the intense swelling. I was afraid to remove my boots after seeing so many guys hobbling around on makeshift footwear or having to bind their feet with salvaged blankets.

  Deeply troubled about the patrol situation, Hank spoke to 1/Sgt Fred Bahlau, whom he had known since the early days at Toccoa. Fred had nothing to do with making up the rosters and informed Hank it would be best to speak to the S3 who now happened to be 1st Lt Derwood Cann – who had previously loaned $500 from DiCarlo. “I hiked over to the battalion CP for a little tête-à-tête with the lieutenant. ‘Sir, we’re even. Please cut down my patrols … you won’t owe me a cent!’ He stared at me for a while before responding, ‘I’m sorry you think I would intentionally put you in that kind of danger for a few bucks? I swear on my life that I will pay you back as soon as I’m able, but the truth of the matter is we need guys like you to get the replacements through what is happening out there.’ On that note I saluted, apologized, and sheepishly made my way back to the 1 Ptn lines.”