Post by floydragsdale on Feb 2, 2013 19:16:27 GMT -5
Five Anxious Men
Someone said, "Old veterans don’t die; they just fade away. " Yet, we shouldn't let our stories fade away with us. Needless to say, there are some stories still to be told by WWII Veterans..
This story concerns five men, of whom I was one, from G Company, 424th Regiment of the 106th infantry Division. It occurred several days after the colossal German offensive, The Battle of the Bulge, 16 Dec. 1944, began. The stage is the Schnee Eifel region of the Ardennes Forrest, on the German/Belgian border.
Before the night of the 18th had passed five men from G Company, separated from our outfit, were in an extremely unsafe predicament, that was to last until the next morning.
That evening, as twilight covered the battle sector, combat activity diminished to occasional gunfire. Well into the night two of us located at our mortar fortification received a company messenger who relayed orders that everyone should pull back from their battle positions in a systematic way. Heavy weapons and related ammunition were to be left behind. The word was, travel light. Our squad, composed of eleven men, was the last in our area to leave. The Germans, somehow knew the moment of our withdrawal as they commenced firing volleys of rockets (screaming memies) at intervals all through our exit maneuver. They made frightful sounds when launched; the louder the noise the closer they came. - - - As our squad descended the hill, the Germans fired them in our direction. As the first one exploded, everyone hit the dirt. A salvo contained six rockets. We fell, with faces buried in the turf, as each one fell closer and closer. From, left to right, exploding with a deafening sound. A slight feeling of relief came when they were exploding to our right; then the chances of remaining alive a while longer increased dramatically. Several more barrages detonated around us before we reached Company Headquarters. It was a profoundly scary incident.
Arriving at Company Headquarters, officers ushered everyone into bunkers and instructed all to remain inside for further orders. The interior was dark as pitch. Our squad leader fell into a deep sleep. Everyone suffered fatigue due to ceaseless battle conditions since the morning of the 16th.
Sometime later, maybe an hour, the bunker door opened. A calm, low, voice advised "We will move out soon, proceed single file; each one take hold of the man’s coat belt in front of you. Move quietly, no conversation; the woods are full of Germans. - - - Of course it was quiet - - - too quiet. A GI behind me said, "Do you have a hold of the man in front of you? I replied, "Yes." Wondering then, my hands sought the arm of the man ahead of me; then groped for his hand that was firmly attached to a wooden post. With disgust I said, "You have hold of a post." That statement provoked instant response from our gunner; he yelled, "You a dumb s.o.b." What fighting words! One shoved the other outside the bunker and both faced off like two bandy roosters. The commotion awoke our squad leader who, surrounded in complete darkness, didn’t remember where he was or what day it was. He came out of the bunker like a wild man yelling "Where is the company - - where am I ?" Two of us subdued him by wrestling him to the ground and slapping his face to end his nightmare. The squabble no doubt lasted just a few moments, but at the time it seemed like an eternity. Somehow the other two men came to their senses and stopped quarreling. Then we realized that we were alone. The Company was nowhere in sight.
Five of us, now separated from the company faced a
serious situation. Our immediate concern was being taken prisoner or shot; a powerful incentive to get out of there. Without a map, our intuition and clues had to be put to use.
We searched for foot traffic in various paths that led out of the vicinity; then pursued the path with the most footprints. After a while, forks in the trail appeared and, dead reckoning had to be applied from that moment on. A footpath led us near a log home in the forest. In a way it was a welcome site with smoke curling from the chimney top. How easy it was to imagine the warmth and comfort inside. Yet, a premonition forewarned us about that cabin. Quietly, we circumvented the site, hoping to be unobserved by the inhabitants.
Through the night, five motivated GI’s traversed hills and valleys, pausing now and then to whisper opinions and offer suggestions. All froze at the slightest movement, or sound, in a forest that was no longer friendly territory .
As dark gave way to daybreak another cabin came into view; in like manner we bypassed it. Farther ahead appeared another hill to climb. As the ascent started voices became audible. Are they American or German, we wondered? Cautiously we moved forward, pausing now and then to listen. As the crest of the hill was reached not a soul was in sight, however the sounds increased in loudness. Reaching the summit of the next hill we observed Army personnel. However, are they friendly or enemy? Gingerly, five of us moved ahead seeking to ascertain their identity. Finally men wearing familiar olive drab clothing could be seen. What a relief to see American Soldiers!- - - Low and behold, what a revelation; it was our own Regiment. Exhausted, yet jubilant in overcoming extreme odds, we soon learned that our situation remained acutely grim. There were many rumors and, sounds of combat surrounded us.
For some reason our Company was not engaged in any
action that day. To say the least, for the next few hours some shut eye and rest felt like a luxury.
We had no thought, at the time, that our division was involved in the largest campaign in the history of the American Army and that it would last almost another six weeks. There were two enemies to fight. The German Army and the bitter cold days and nights that were still ahead of us. Yet, that’s another story. Fortunately for us, the future came just one day at a time.
Floyd
424th Regiment
Someone said, "Old veterans don’t die; they just fade away. " Yet, we shouldn't let our stories fade away with us. Needless to say, there are some stories still to be told by WWII Veterans..
This story concerns five men, of whom I was one, from G Company, 424th Regiment of the 106th infantry Division. It occurred several days after the colossal German offensive, The Battle of the Bulge, 16 Dec. 1944, began. The stage is the Schnee Eifel region of the Ardennes Forrest, on the German/Belgian border.
Before the night of the 18th had passed five men from G Company, separated from our outfit, were in an extremely unsafe predicament, that was to last until the next morning.
That evening, as twilight covered the battle sector, combat activity diminished to occasional gunfire. Well into the night two of us located at our mortar fortification received a company messenger who relayed orders that everyone should pull back from their battle positions in a systematic way. Heavy weapons and related ammunition were to be left behind. The word was, travel light. Our squad, composed of eleven men, was the last in our area to leave. The Germans, somehow knew the moment of our withdrawal as they commenced firing volleys of rockets (screaming memies) at intervals all through our exit maneuver. They made frightful sounds when launched; the louder the noise the closer they came. - - - As our squad descended the hill, the Germans fired them in our direction. As the first one exploded, everyone hit the dirt. A salvo contained six rockets. We fell, with faces buried in the turf, as each one fell closer and closer. From, left to right, exploding with a deafening sound. A slight feeling of relief came when they were exploding to our right; then the chances of remaining alive a while longer increased dramatically. Several more barrages detonated around us before we reached Company Headquarters. It was a profoundly scary incident.
Arriving at Company Headquarters, officers ushered everyone into bunkers and instructed all to remain inside for further orders. The interior was dark as pitch. Our squad leader fell into a deep sleep. Everyone suffered fatigue due to ceaseless battle conditions since the morning of the 16th.
Sometime later, maybe an hour, the bunker door opened. A calm, low, voice advised "We will move out soon, proceed single file; each one take hold of the man’s coat belt in front of you. Move quietly, no conversation; the woods are full of Germans. - - - Of course it was quiet - - - too quiet. A GI behind me said, "Do you have a hold of the man in front of you? I replied, "Yes." Wondering then, my hands sought the arm of the man ahead of me; then groped for his hand that was firmly attached to a wooden post. With disgust I said, "You have hold of a post." That statement provoked instant response from our gunner; he yelled, "You a dumb s.o.b." What fighting words! One shoved the other outside the bunker and both faced off like two bandy roosters. The commotion awoke our squad leader who, surrounded in complete darkness, didn’t remember where he was or what day it was. He came out of the bunker like a wild man yelling "Where is the company - - where am I ?" Two of us subdued him by wrestling him to the ground and slapping his face to end his nightmare. The squabble no doubt lasted just a few moments, but at the time it seemed like an eternity. Somehow the other two men came to their senses and stopped quarreling. Then we realized that we were alone. The Company was nowhere in sight.
Five of us, now separated from the company faced a
serious situation. Our immediate concern was being taken prisoner or shot; a powerful incentive to get out of there. Without a map, our intuition and clues had to be put to use.
We searched for foot traffic in various paths that led out of the vicinity; then pursued the path with the most footprints. After a while, forks in the trail appeared and, dead reckoning had to be applied from that moment on. A footpath led us near a log home in the forest. In a way it was a welcome site with smoke curling from the chimney top. How easy it was to imagine the warmth and comfort inside. Yet, a premonition forewarned us about that cabin. Quietly, we circumvented the site, hoping to be unobserved by the inhabitants.
Through the night, five motivated GI’s traversed hills and valleys, pausing now and then to whisper opinions and offer suggestions. All froze at the slightest movement, or sound, in a forest that was no longer friendly territory .
As dark gave way to daybreak another cabin came into view; in like manner we bypassed it. Farther ahead appeared another hill to climb. As the ascent started voices became audible. Are they American or German, we wondered? Cautiously we moved forward, pausing now and then to listen. As the crest of the hill was reached not a soul was in sight, however the sounds increased in loudness. Reaching the summit of the next hill we observed Army personnel. However, are they friendly or enemy? Gingerly, five of us moved ahead seeking to ascertain their identity. Finally men wearing familiar olive drab clothing could be seen. What a relief to see American Soldiers!- - - Low and behold, what a revelation; it was our own Regiment. Exhausted, yet jubilant in overcoming extreme odds, we soon learned that our situation remained acutely grim. There were many rumors and, sounds of combat surrounded us.
For some reason our Company was not engaged in any
action that day. To say the least, for the next few hours some shut eye and rest felt like a luxury.
We had no thought, at the time, that our division was involved in the largest campaign in the history of the American Army and that it would last almost another six weeks. There were two enemies to fight. The German Army and the bitter cold days and nights that were still ahead of us. Yet, that’s another story. Fortunately for us, the future came just one day at a time.
Floyd
424th Regiment
