by Leo Barron
Fortunately, Allen’s three company commanders—Towns, MacDonald, and Bowles—knew what plan A was, and how to execute it. They had discussed it after MacDonald returned from Crossroads X on the twenty-first. Each company would leapfrog backward, allowing another to cover it as it moved. Allen remembered the Germans had a vote in this matter too. If they were as spent as the Americans from fighting all day, the glidermen had a good chance of pulling back unmolested and reconsolidating their lines. If not, or if the Germans had fresh reinforcements, well, Allen didn’t want to think about it.
Baker Company was to stand fast, since it was the designated rear guard. Meanwhile, the tattered remnants of Charlie Company, all of Weapons Company, and the battalion headquarters would pull back through Flamizoulle. Able Company had to take a different route, since it was the closest to Bastogne, withdrawing north and then east past Mande Saint-Etienne.
For a short time Flamizoulle was a tangled mess, as various units had to thread the needle. Charlie Company had the most difficult time, since a good portion of Captain Towns’s company was still in contact with the Germans. Furthermore, several vehicles from the 705th Tank Destroyer Battalion were also in the mix. The result was a temporary logjam at the Flamizoulle chokepoint. Compounding the situation, Allen didn’t have enough trucks and jeeps to carry all the wounded, ammunition, and equipment. The glidermen had to destroy some of the equipment to keep it from falling into German hands.
Despite this, most of the battalion managed to pull back to a new main line of resistance that was east of Mande Saint-Etienne and parallel to the Champs–Hemroulle road behind it. By 2200 hours that night, Allen informed Harper and McAuliffe that he had established his new command post near Hemroulle.
That night, more snow was falling—soft flakes at first, which became smaller and more like ice pellets as the dark of night spread into the pink stain of morning. The weather was uncomfortable for the exhausted men of the 1/401st, but in a way a blessing. The snow and fog would help to mask their movement as they continued to break contact and withdraw. The bulk of the men retreated almost two miles closer to Bastogne. As the drained glider fighters of C Company threw A6 machine guns, mortar plates, and ammo over their shoulders and quietly moved out, they took one last glance at Flamierge and Flamizoulle in the distance. The villages were largely quiet and, in the softly falling snow, resembled something from a peaceful Currier and Ives print. Allen’s men guessed by now that the twin towns were completely occupied by German soldiers.
MacDonald’s B Company (to the north) and Bowles’s A Company (to the south) quickly emplaced on a ridgeline near a farm road overlooking Mande Saint-Etienne. Now the lines of the 1/401st were a bit safer and more compact, though as they dug new foxholes through the fresh layer of snow that morning, the men noticed they were in positions not much closer to one another than before.
Allen figured Towns’s hard-fought C Company could use a bit of a break, so he put them in reserve. Towns’s men retreated to a mile-and-a-half-wide open field behind the others. This new line of defense was on the gradual downward slope of a broad, forested hill above Hemroulle. The ground before his men was open and flat, void of much in the way of natural cover or concealment.
Regardless, Allen let all of the men know they could pull back no more. That night he told his men, “This is our last withdrawal. Live or die—this is it.”48
1630 to early evening, Saturday, 23 December 1944
26th Volksgrenadier Division Headquarters
Hompre, Belgium
“Mande Saint-Etienne taken, communication established with Grenadier Regiment 77 in Flamizoulle area!” was the report that Colonel Heinz Kokott received that night from his subordinate units that had forced the issue in the Mande area all day. It was the first good news Kokott had heard in a while. Soon after, he received another piece of good news—some of his men had seized the American equipment bundles, verifying that what Kokott had seen falling from the sky was not American paratroopers, but supplies. True, the aerial resupply could mean the Americans might hold out longer, but at least he didn’t have to contend with another division of American paratroopers. Kokott was learning the hard way that one was more than enough.
The best news, however, came from the south. It certainly had not started out that way Saturday morning. Around 1630–1700 hours, the four massive Jagdtigers and accompanying troops struck the Americans in Chaumont. The attack was apparently a bit of a surprise for the Americans, especially the giant tanks. The Amis had failed to seize the high ground to the north of town, and that turned out to be the support-by-fire position for the Jagdtigers. From that position they had a superb field of fire. The tanks used their huge 128mm guns to wreak havoc on the Americans. In no time, they had destroyed or disabled eleven of Patton’s Sherman tanks, forcing the Americans to retreat.
When Kokott heard the news, he was pleased. Things seemed to be taking a turn for the better. He had finally forced back the American lines to the west of Bastogne. He had dealt a stinging rebuke to the American forces coming up from the south. Most important, these actions were buying him a great deal of time. Now he could concentrate his forces, use any fresh reinforcements currently on their way, and choose a place somewhere along the Bastogne perimeter to mount the major armored-infantry attack—the Panzer Angriff that could seal the fate of the Americans in Bastogne.
Kokott then looked at the time. The 901st Panzergrenadier Regiment’s attack on Marvie was about to begin.49
Late evening, Saturday, 23 December 1944
Headquarters, XXXXVII Panzer Corps
Château de Roumont, Belgium50
As evening blackened the sky over Belgium, for once, General der Panzertruppen Heinrich von Lüttwitz had many reasons to be optimistic. True, the American commander at Bastogne had rudely snubbed his surrender demand, but elsewhere, matters were progressing in his favor. After all, Kokott’s division had successfully driven in part of the American perimeter surrounding Bastogne.
At the same time, the hard fighting that day proved to von Lüttwitz that Kokott’s division would not be enough to capture Bastogne. Obviously the Allied forces were putting up a greater fight than had previously been anticipated. He had already learned earlier that evening from Kokott that the attack on Marvie had stalled, and it was not likely to achieve its goal. Kokott would require more combat power to capture Bastogne.
Fortuitously, that same evening the corps commander received news that the Fifth Panzer Army was sending him more divisions. In fact, two of them—the 9th Panzer and 15th Panzergrenadier divisions—would arrive sometime tomorrow and pass through the town of Noville, to the north of Bastogne.
Von Manteuffel had given von Lüttwitz his choice—he could use the divisions either at Bastogne or to secure crossings at the Meuse River. However, after the war, the chief of staff of the Fifth Panzer Army, Carl Wagener, wrote that he had strongly suggested that XXXXVII Panzer Corps use the divisions for the Meuse crossing. Von Lüttwitz, though, rejected that notion. He never liked the concept of leaving Bastogne behind as von Manteuffel’s forces barreled toward Antwerp. He would divert whichever division showed up first to Kokott. For von Lüttwitz, it was finally time to lance the Bastogne boil.51
CHAPTER SIX
“I Was Just Here to Wish
You a Merry Christmas.”
(DECEMBER 24)
“Poor food—hard lodging—Cold Weather—fatigue—Nasty Cloaths—and nasty Cookery—Vomit half my time—smoak’d out of my senses—the Devil’s in’t—I can’t Endure it—Why are we sent here to starve and freeze—What sweet Felicities have I left at home…. Here all Confusion—smoke Cold—hunger & filthyness—A pox on my bad luck! Here comes a bowl of beef soup—full of burnt leaves and dirt, sickish enough to make a Hector spue,—away with it Boys!—I’ll live like the Chameleon upon Air.”
—Surgeon Albigence Waldo, Connecticut Line, Valley Forge, 17781
All around the Bastogne perimeter, the sons of the Third Reich marke
d time and waited. As the snow intermittently fell that Sunday, Kokott’s Panzergrenadiers were suffering similar hardships to the Americans’. For the Germans, living in frozen holes with wrapped feet and faces to prevent frostbite, food, medicine, and ammunition were also starting to run thin.
A few enjoyed the amenities of being the besiegers instead of the besieged. With the freedom to move about the outlying towns, some of the German soldiers could afford to scrounge for food, firewood, and warm housing. Many a Belgian farm, barn, or town hall was taken over by German troops and converted into a warm dormitory or brötkuchen (bread kitchen) for the soldiers of Kokott’s army.
Near Rouette that morning, “Lutz” Lindemann recalled the cold nights he had already spent around Bastogne. Even for a veteran of the freezing winters of Russia, Lindemann and his men found the land around Bastogne Spartan:
“The winter in Russia was stronger. Very, very cold—minus forty degrees [Celsius],” he recounted in an interview. “In these days [Bastogne] terrible weather, rain, snow and fog [temperatures approximately six degrees]. We always slept outside with a tarp over us. No fire, no blankets, no warmth, no food, since the field kitchen could not reach us. The only food was captured, unused American rations.”
Exhaustion was also treating the Germans with as heavy a hand as it had laid on the Americans. The German soldiers of the 26th Volksgrenadier Division had moved about the perimeter on foot or vehicle, and from town to town so many times that many had lost count. The fighting had taken place each day as unit after unit had attempted to punch through the American defenses. The constant get up and go had left the soldiers drained, cold, and frustrated. Even the few veterans of winter campaigns of the Eastern Front, like Lindemann, were starting to feel it, especially as temperatures dropped below freezing the last few days before Christmas.
Morale was faltering. Purposely left out of the main drive, the grenadiers were unable to share the glories and victories with their brothers in 2nd Panzer and Panzer Lehr as they shattered American divisions and aimed for the Meuse.
The day before, Lindemann had been in the woods near Foy with his 6th Company. The men raised their heads at the sound of aircraft engines and were witnesses to the 101st pathfinders dropping from the sky and landing in the snowy fields outside Bastogne. He specifically instructed his men not to shoot at the helpless soldiers as they swung in the air on their parachutes. He told his men to wait until they hit the ground. To Lindemann, shooting a defenseless paratrooper hanging in the sky just did not seem particularly sporting. Still, as they watched the spectacle of the resupply planes dropping the parcels that afternoon, it must have been a depressing spectacle for him and his men.2
Christmas, such an important holiday for Germanic people, was turning into a bloody affair. This would be the sixth consecutive Christmas in which Germany was at war. Soldiers’ thoughts turned to their homes and families, which many had not seen for years. Far from the Heimat, they suffered once again, as all Germany was, for Hitler’s twisted ambitions.3
2330–1200 hours, Saturday to Sunday, 24 December 1944
Traveling with the headquarters element of the 115th Panzergrenadier Regiment
Heading west from Prüm, Germany, to Houffalize, Belgium
Early Christmas Eve, Oberst (Colonel) Wolfgang Maucke, commanding the 115th, lead regiment of 15th Panzergrenadier Division, was making his way dutifully to an area around Houffalize, Belgium. Maucke stood in his open command vehicle to better spot any Allied aircraft. His men and vehicles had already been savaged earlier along the road to Houffalize, north of Bastogne, by the ever-present Jabos.
Left and right, Maucke was losing vehicles. The day before at Prüm, Maucke had stopped to receive orders. During the pause, he had requested that his forward units, including an artillery regiment, be able to deploy to safer defensive positions outside of town. His superiors had told him it was unnecessary, as his men would soon be moving on.
Unfortunately, roaming Allied fighter-bombers caught the guns and crews out in the open around 2330 hours that night and destroyed much of the equipment in his regiment’s infantry gun company. It got worse. There were other factors that seemed determined to whittle away at Maucke’s shrinking force.
Maucke recalled that time after the war:
The weather throughout the period was dominated by uninterrupted fog until sunlight broke through around midday on 23.12.44 [Saturday]…. It was relatively cold. The roads were frozen and slick as mirrors, which created excessive difficulty for the heavy vehicles. The familiar serpentines caused significant vehicular losses when vehicles slid off the roads and crashed after entering a curve.
Maucke realized that the worst fears of the German high command seemed to be coming to fruition. Now that the weather had improved, it was almost impossible to move reinforcements for Wacht am Rhein up the roads during daylight hours. Simply moving his force to Belgium was becoming a major battle within itself.
Later that morning, a single Allied fighter-bomber swept in and attacked 1st Battalion, which was strung out along a road like a bunch of schoolchildren, innocently standing in a queue. The losses from the attack were severe. The solitary Jabo had destroyed 1st Battalion’s field kitchen and more than 60 percent of the vehicles and medium mortars as they were lined up in the van of the column. Luckily casualties were minimal. Still, Maucke knew he couldn’t afford to lose any more equipment before he arrived at his assault position somewhere in Belgium.
As much as he would have preferred to move by night, his one thought now was to get whatever was left of his tanks and men to Belgium in all haste. After the war, Maucke remarked in an interview, “Any thoughts not to travel during the day were not acknowledged. It was said repeatedly, ‘Orders from the top—we will march,’ and we marched and overcame adversity. Countless unknown drivers fulfilled their duties and followed their orders, but many did so unto their deaths.”
As a senior field commander, he could see with his own eyes the reality that the war was not going the way Adolf Hitler imagined it was. The truth was very obvious this Christmas Eve, as he watched what was left of his column rumbling along behind him. The scars showed with the damaged and missing vehicles, and the fear in the faces of his grenadiers, scanning the air for the next deadly attack.
He knew that even with a limping force, he would be expected to play a key role in the upcoming operation—whatever that was. Despite the attacks on his regiment, his men were ready. Unlike some other units that the OKW had thrown into the Bulge, the 115th Panzergrenadier Regiment was well prepared. As opposed to the divisions that had served on the Eastern Front and suffered catastrophic losses as a result, a sizable number of older veteran NCOs and experienced junior officers were still serving in the 115th. Hence, as Maucke put it, “… [They] formed a fundamental nucleus of the division. They endured their combat trials and crisis in a positive manner.” Maucke’s division also had another advantage over some of its fellow divisions. Unlike Kokott’s 26th Volksgrenadier, the 15th Panzergrenadier had a well-trained and organized Feldgendarmerie, or military police unit. These specialists excelled in traffic control, and they proved their expertise during the movement of the 15th Panzergrenadier Division to Belgium. In spite of the constant aerial harassment and the twisting, icy roads, the Feldgendarmerie controlled the traffic flow and ensured that the division would arrive at its appointed time. Around noon, Maucke’s regiment and the rest of the division finally arrived at their assembly area southeast of Houffalize. Maucke then went to report to Kokott for his next set of orders.4
Morning, Sunday, 24 December 1944
Headquarters, 26th Volksgrenadier Division
Gives, Belgium
The battle for Marvie petered out early Sunday morning, with the Americans holding half of the town, and the Germans the other. It certainly was not the conclusive and key engagement Colonel Heinz Kokott had sought. He could tell by looking over the reports from the 901st Panzergrenadier Regiment, which had spearheaded the atta
ck on Marvie. Once again the stubborn Ami paratroopers had refused to yield to common sense. Reluctantly, Kokott began to feel some admiration for his adversary, and he decided that everyone, including his higher headquarters, had underestimated the pluck of the GIs trapped in Bastogne.
The attack on Marvie had foundered relatively early. Kokott knew by 2200 hours the previous night that the assault had become mired in the streets of the small Belgian hamlet. Indeed, the operations center of the 901st reported to him at that time, “[T]he attack had been halted by increased enemy resistance and …there were no longer any reserves for continuance of the attack with any hope for success.” Kokott knew it was senseless to continue reinforcing failure. Besides, he had a good reason to call off the attack.
About the same time the Panzergrenadiers were starting to navigate the tortuous streets of Marvie, Kokott received an order directly from the Fifth Panzer Army. When he opened it and quickly perused it, he knew how serious the situation had become. It read: “26th Division prepares large-scale attack on Bastogne. Objective: capture of Bastogne. Time: 25 December. 15th Panzergrenadier Division being brought up—will be subordinated to the 26th Division for this attack.” Kokott nodded and smiled to himself. At last he was getting what he needed to take care of Bastogne—reinforcements. General Hasso von Manteuffel was allocating an entire division to him, and it was a division with teeth—a Panzergrenadier division. That meant tanks and motorized troops. In addition to that piece of good news, Kokott had finally figured out exactly where to utilize this additional combat power.
