Battered Bastards of Bastogne

by George Koskimaki

  Major Harwick continues his story. With the forward observer team from the 321st Artillery Battalion near him at this time, he may be confused as to the source of messages concerning withdrawals is concerned. He wrote:48

  About 1230, a radio operator in a tank picked up a message telling the armored units to assist the infantry in fighting out. I took this as a legal means to do what I knew had to be done in this situation. I ordered a withdrawal at 1330, keeping the message as evidence. (I still have it.)

  The withdrawal from Noville, shortly after noon on the 20th, is described by “C” Company commander 1Lt. Edward Mehosky:

  Soon, word came down that we would be withdrawing. It was becoming evident that the Germans were attempting to encircle Noville and that we had to be prepared to fight our way back to the division perimeter. ‘C’ Company was designated the lead echelon of the battalion and would be accompanied by three tanks of the combat team. My commandeered ‘convoy’ was positioned to the rear of the tanks as we moved out of Noville. We left, knowing the enemy was moving on our flanks, but didn’t know that they had moved ahead of us on our left, and set up a roadblock east of Foy on the commanding terrain that overlooked and controlled the road we were traveling.

  Major Harwick continues with his account of the withdrawal from Noville with tanks leading the way, followed by the men of his line companies:49

  Of the five tanks remaining, I could find crews for only two. Our troopers took over and drove two more. The disabled one was set afire and a five minutes fuse put on what ammunition was left.

  Four tanks and ‘C’ Company left first, with orders to push and engage any enemy without further orders. Stopping, we knew, would mean the loss of the entire column. The tank destroyers with ‘A’ Company formed the rear guard to prevent the Germans from following. All of the wounded were placed on vehicles.

  A description of the pullot from within the town of Noville is related by war correspondent Collie Small, writing for the Saturday Evening Post:

  The rear of the column was still in Noville, where a lieutenant in the engineers waited patiently with his hand on the plunger that would set off the pile of ammunition in the churchyard. Up ahead, the crackle of small arms and a pall of black smoke from burning vehicles marked the battle. Then, into the rain of steel, a cool young captain walked, calmly ordering the men to double park their vehicles along the road. At Foy, vehicles backed up and at Noville they pulled ahead until the shortened column was halfway between the two villages. The lieutenant in Noville squeezed the plunger. There was a terrific explosion and the church disappeared.50

  As the medical officer for the 20th Armored Infantry Battalion of Team Desobry, Captain John T. Prior got the order to get his wounded ready for the withdrawal. He describes the situation as viewed from an aid station:

  Upon receipt of the withdrawal order, we were given ten minutes to move out. Since I had no functioning vehicular transportation and no litters, I decided to stay and surrender my patients to the Germans. I asked for volunteers to stay with me but the silence was deafening. It looked as if only myself and the tavern owners (an old lady and her husband who said their rosaries aloud for two days in their cellar) would stay behind. At this point, my first sergeant seized the initiative and ran into the street shouting at the departing tanks to swing by the aid station. The tankers ran into our building and, after ripping off all the doors from the walls, strapped our patients to the doors and tied them to their vehicles. The column then moved down the road toward Bastogne where I assumed there was a hospital and fresh defenders.51

  T/5 Owen E. Miller had been busy gathering and tending the wounded without respite since arrival in Noville. His load had increased since Captain Joseph Warren had been wounded in the late afternoon of the 19th. He had this recollection of the actions as the troops pulled out:

  The next day, I was some place around town. I came back to the aid station (which was separate from the one Captain Prior operated.) It was empty. I went to the door and stood there as vehicles were leaving. A half-track stopped. An officer yelled at me to get my gear and board the vehicle, which I did in a hurry. We were the last vehicle in line. We went about 300 yards and came to a halt. We sat there until word came on the radio to man all machine guns on the vehicle. The men were to keep their eyes on the left bank. On my side of the vehicle was a water-cooled .30 caliber with a big hole in the jacket.

  MAP 7—Withdrawal from Noville

  The Germans had cut the road to Bastogne at Foy. As we sat out on the road, a machine gun opened up on the column from our right.

  As a casualty from the dawn attack on the “A” Company positions in Noville, PFC. Don Straith ended up in the basement of the 1st Battalion aid station where he had fallen asleep, exhausted, in a potato bin. His story continues:52

  Sometime in the afternoon, I was awakened and told that the road to Bastogne had been reopened and Noville was being evacuated. Going back upstairs, I found a line of half-tracks standing in front of the aid station. While wounded were being loaded onto the vehicles, the uninjured passed on either side as they headed out of town. I boarded the closest half-track and climbed into the gunner’s mount where I could, if necessary, man the .30 cal. machine gun. The fog had lifted somewhat and, as the column slowly moved out, I kept watching the edges of the forest patches beyond the fields, but no Germans ever came into view.

  The fog was still patchy and played tricks as has been described in some of the previous accounts. Major Harwick describes how the wounded had been loaded and the forward elements had moved out when the first troops and tanks collided with enemy forces to the south.53

  Under cover of the now wonderful fog, we took off on time. The men did a brilliant job of changing positions, loading wounded, gathering or destroying ammunition and equipment. The wounded had just been put on a vehicle when sounds of fire told of trouble at the head of the column. I hurried up. The first tank was on fire. But we had to push on—if we did not take losses then everybody would be a loss.

  From his position in the column moving south from Noville, 1Lt. Edward Mehosky had this view of the action as it unfolded as his company led the combined 1st Battalion and Task Force Desobry in the withdrawal:

  Noville was now behind us as we advanced toward Foy. The tanks were in the middle of our column. The other vehicles were strung out in a line behind us. Men marched in combat formation alert for enemy activity. Suddenly, there was an explosion as lead elements of the column received fire. A German tank, supported by rocket launchers and small arms, had set up a road block on the high ground off to our left.

  At the head of the column, leading the withdrawal, was 2Lt. Joe Reed with his platoon of “C” Company men. He describes how he anticipated where the enemy would be located if resistance was to be met:

  On the map there were two man-made objects (farmhouses) between us and Foy. I warned the guys to walk softly and quietly and expect most of our problems there. Due to weather conditions, the Krauts were no different than us. They sought shelter wherever it was available. We were informed the 3rd Battalion had been pushed out of Foy but would be counter-attacking the town to take pressure off us and to retake the town. Our orders were to fight through, if possible, and not stop.

  As we moved out in a column of file on each side of the road, I had my first scout in front of me. I was next on the left side of the road. Nimmo was a scout on the right side and Mike Parros, my platoon sergeant, was behind him. The rest of the platoon was strung out on both sides of the road behind, including Don Zahn, assistant platoon leader. Fog was very heavy but it was rolling from time to time. We marched quietly for some time. All of a sudden, the fog rose and across a ditch from me three Krauts were setting up a machine gun pointing toward Noville. I was able to dispatch all three of them—thanks to Al Hassenzahl who had given me a Thompson sub just before we departed Mourmelon. I yelled, ‘Kraut!’ and, as I dove for the ditch, I saw two Kraut tanks setting in the yard—crews half in and half out of the
ir vehicles.

  About that time, a 10th Armored tank with a howitzer-type gun pulled up on the road beside me. A redheaded captain in the turret leaned over and asked me, ‘What the hell is going on?’ I shouted, ‘Get the hell out of here!’ Too late, those two Kraut tanks hit him a couple of times and his tank started burning. He toppled out of the tank on top of me and started crawling back toward Noville. In the meantime, a heavy fire fight was building up and the two Kraut tanks withdrew. That was the last I saw of them.

  However, there was a Kraut in the upstairs window who was firing a panzerfaust, continuing to shoot at the burning tank just above me. I kept trying to pop him but wasn’t doing very well, I never did get him. Eventually, one of his projectiles didn’t detonate, glanced off the tank, rolled over my leg into my crotch and was sizzling. Believe me, all I could think about at that time was the family jewels. In spite of all the fire power going both ways, I got up and ran around to the other side of the tank. Just as I arrived there, my platoon sergeant, Mike Parros, was hit hard and died in my arms while talking to me. It was unfortunate, but we had no orange smoke or identification panels with us. I feel to this day my group got caught in the crossfire in the 3rd Battalion counter-attack.

  T/4 Jim Cadden was in the same move as part of Lt. Reed’s platoon as it led the withdrawal. His recollections are different as he was further back in the platoon column but he still had some of the same memories.

  My squad was on the left side of the road. As we moved out to attack south from Noville, after going about 300 feet, my squad came under enemy machine gun and small arms fire. We all took to the roadside ditch for cover and then all hell broke loose on us. German tanks poured 88mm cannon fire on us and fired into the roadside trees to try getting us with tree bursts. During the fusilade, my second scout was killed; the kid in back of me was critically wounded (he later died) and the first scout (Abrahamson) was hit by small arms fire on the right side of the head and lost his right eye. Both he and the second scout were replacements for the Holland casualties.

  We were completely pinned down by a blanket of small arms and tank cannon fire. After a period of time, a Sherman tank came up the road from Noville firing its machine gun and, as it came to within approximately ten feet of my position in the ditch, it was hit broadside by cannon fire and the turret went spiraling in the air and the entire vehicle was engulfed in roaring flames. The cannon broadside explosive impact with the tank rendered me stunned and semi-conscious. However, I was not hurt except for brief hearing impairment. Then, within minutes after the first tank was hit and burning, a second Sherman came lumbering up the road from Noville and when that tank got approximately 25 feet from the burning tank—BLAM! That, too, got hit and burst into flames. As I recall, a soldier in the turret of that tank opened the hatch and tried to get out and suddenly a trooper from the ditch I was in and about fifty feet in back of me, jumped up on the road and hopped up on the second tank and appeared to try pulling the injured tanker from the turret of the second tank. Kraut machine gun fire raked them both and both fell to the ground. (I learned later that the trooper who endeavored to rescue the tanker was my platoon sergeant, Mike Parros.)

  Another soldier from “C” Company, PFC. Robert Wiatt, must have been in on this same attack. Again, he views the action from a different angle. Wiatt still had the bazooka he had obtained from a tanker the previous day and he fired his last round into the house which contained enemy soldiers who were keeping the “C” Company troopers in the roadside ditches. By this time, the number of tanks has increased to three, the third was being driven by one of the 1st Battalion paratroopers. Wiatt wrote:

  In the meantime, there were three Sherman tanks on the road just short of the house. One of these tanks was hit and disabled. With the road blocked in front of them, the men in the second and third tanks took off, leaving their tanks on the road. My buddy, who had been in the field with me. decided that we should get into one of these tanks since it had armor and a big gun. He said he would drive the tank if I could fire the gun. I had training with the .57mm anti-tank gun so I thought it would work. We started to climb up on the far side of the tank when a shell hit it. I do not know just what took place for a while after that. When I came to, I was by myself in a ditch on the far side of the road. My buddy, whose name I cannot remember, was lying, blown apart, on top of the tank and no one else was around. I took off down the ditch on the right side of the road and found the company just beyond Foy.

  Some more light is shed on that action by 1Lt. Joe Reed who remembered the names of two of the men involved in the fight to get to Foy. Both were in on the tank actions:

  The Krauts withdrew and we advanced into Foy. I lost five of my men as KIA that I know of on the Noville-Foy road and one of our men, Rosario Rizzo, was killed when he tried to drive an abandoned tank out. (He had special schooling in England.) Unbeknown to me, the Krauts blew two tanks at about the same time. Rizzo was on the second one. Sgt. Eugene Esquible, one of my squad leaders, climbed up on the second burning tank and got the .50 caliber machine gun going. I am told it was a major factor in our favor in the early stages of the fire fight. He stayed on the gun until blown off by enemy fire. After his wounds healed, he was no longer fit for airborne duty.

  1Lt. Al Hassenzahl was in on the action, too. He remembered that they brought out all their wounded on a few half-tracks and other vehicles which followed at the rear of the column. He had high praise for Sgt. Eugene Esquible’s action in silencing enemy fire so the 1st Battalion troopers could move past the strong point. Hassenzahl wrote:

  We had a sergeant, Eugene Esquible, who mounted a Sherman tank and manned a .50 caliber machine gun and, while fully exposed, he so effectively leveled that strong point, silenced their machine gun which enabled us to get across the road and nullify that strong point. I remember seeing Sgt. Esquible knocked off the tank by a round from one of the Kraut vehicles. He was placed in a half-track and evacuated to Bastogne as we went along.54

  Another incident that happened at the same time and I remember it so vividly was with Sgt. Joe Zettwich. Joe was hit in the chest in this encounter. I remember helping load him into the half-track, telling him he was going to be OK. It was a traumatic experience to learn Sgt. Zettwich had died some time after reaching the aid station.

  Medical officer for the 20th Armored Infantry Battalion, Capt. John Prior describes some of the action which took place while he treated wounded in the ditches as the fight was going on around them. He relates:55

  Even the trip back to Bastogne turned into another fire fight. In a late afternoon fog, the column was stopped by the enemy who knocked out our tanks and harassed us with small arms fire from their tanks. We treated serious injuries in the ditches as we waited three hours for the column to move again. Lying in the ditch and having sniper fire chip away at a fence post beside me was a terrifying experience. I was head to head in the ditch with my dental officer. He did not wear a helmet with the bright red cross and suggested mine was a sniper target and should be shed—a suggestion which I resisted. Many of our enlisted men demonstrated great bravery on the road, pulling tankers from their blazing vehicles, driving jeeps, with the injured on the hood, to our aid station. Many of these aid men were soldiers whose reputations in the unit would have given no clue to the fact that under stress they would meet this challenge. I have often thought I’d still be in that ditch on the Bastogne road if it had not been for the arrival of a parachute battalion from the 101st Airborne Division.

  From his position in the column moving south from Noville, 1 Lt. Edward Mehosky had this view of the action as it unfolded as his company led the combined 1st Battalion and Task Force Desobry in the withdrawal. The tank that seemed to follow his moves attracted a lot of enemy attention to the commander and to the tank. Mehosky added to his narrative:

  The fire was coming in heavy and too close, so I crawled away from our tank that was drawing all the attention. This developed into a cat and mouse game. I would crawl fo
rward, the tank would move forward; so I would crawl away, the tank would move back—and so on until it burst into flames from a direct hit. I then deployed two platoons abreast to attack the roadblock. The other platoon and I took cover across the road. The return fire from my platoons and tanks silenced the roadblock. I lost a platoon sergeant, cut down by machine gun fire as he tried to cross the road. A medic was attending a soldier with a head wound. To my left and a couple hundred yards to the north, could be seen enemy armored vehicles advancing toward us. I turned to my right and could see elements of 3rd Battalion counter-attacking. We were not far from the perimeter.

  Joe Madona’s Role

  By the time the 101st Airborne Division was relieved from its duties in the Bastogne area in mid-January, “I” Company of the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment would be down to one officer and nine enlisted men. The reports received from surviving members of that company always had the highest praise of Platoon sergeant Joe Madona, who served as an inspiration to his men. His actions helped immensely in finally breaking the roadblock at Foy which permitted 1st Battalion to complete its march out of Noville. The following statement appears on the citation for the Silver Star which S/Sgt. Joseph Madona received posthumously for the action at Foy:

  S/Sgt. Joseph P. Madona, of ‘I’ Company of the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, distinguished himself on the 20th while commanding his squad during an attack against the enemy in the vicinity of Foy. His unit was attacking across open terrain exposed to intense enemy fire. Enemy infantry units, supported by artillery and tanks, were entrenched on the military crest of commanding ground that had to be taken by our forces. Seeing that machine gun fire was hindering the advance of adjacent units, Sgt. Madona exposed himself to heavy enemy fire and moved forward toward the enemy positions. Observing this action, the remainder of his squad and platoon followed him in a swift and victorious attack. On one occasion during the engagement, Sgt. Madona’s rifle jammed. Swinging his rifle over his head like a club, he led his squad into and through three enemy machine gun emplacements and captured all three guns and crews intact without losing a single man. His courage and aggressiveness and bold determination, inspired his platoon to a swift attack that ended in opening the main highway and enabled an isolated, friendly force to withdraw down the road with their vehicles and wounded personnel.56