No Victory in Valhalla

by Ian Gardner

  2 Ptn H Co were still holding the line on the eastern edge of the Bois Champay when Frank Kneller stood up and attempted to sing “Silent Night” – very badly. Ken Johnson was not impressed, especially after one of the less compassionate enemy troops in Foy decided to take a potshot at them. The bullet passed between the two men, and Kneller was so angered by the response that he immediately got on the radio and called for mortar fire: “I could see some movement on the southern outskirts of the village and when the shells came in we looked on as a couple of German soldiers suddenly ran screaming into the open with their clothing on fire. I still feel guilty about my impetuous actions, which caused so much pain and suffering on this of all days.”

  To counter the enemy propaganda leaflets, LtCol Kinnard wrote and printed a special Christmas message on behalf of Gen McAuliffe, stating: “The Allied troops are counterattacking in force. We continue to hold Bastogne. By holding Bastogne we assure the success of the Allied Armies. We know that our Division Commander [who was still on his way back to the front] General Taylor, will say: ‘Well done!’ We are giving our country and our loved ones at home a worthy Christmas present and, being privileged to take part in this gallant feat of arms, are truly making for ourselves a Merry Christmas.”

  While Hank DiCarlo was in Bastogne collecting ammunition, the Luftwaffe bombed the town. “We were just about to leave when the air raid began, forcing us to spend several uncomfortable hours in a cellar before we could return to the MLR. When I got back, the boys informed me that Ed Petrowski had died from his wounds back in Bastogne. Despite our primeval living conditions it didn’t stop us from being human. A wave of emotion crashed over me and I had to walk away for a few moments.” Clasping Ed’s medal, sitting alone with his back to a tree, Hank’s face was soon wet with tears. “In a moment of weakness I wept for his wife and baby whom I’d only known from snapshots.” Threading the religious icon onto a piece of string, DiCarlo’s hands were shaking as he hung the medallion around his neck for safekeeping before returning to face the next challenge.

  During the afternoon elements of H Co were ordered northwest to the sector operated by 2 Ptn G Co as the 502nd had been contacted by enemy forces. At the time Lt Ed Wierzbowski from H/502 had his CP inside the Château d’Hoffschmidt and recalls, “On at least two occasions the Germans sent in dogs trained to identify our forward OPs.” A request was sent by Regimental HQ to gather more information about the potential enemy strength in Recogne. A group from H/506 drew the short straw for the initial patrol specifically designed to solicit fire. Jim Martin recalls:

  As their first scout passed through our position into the open field above the village, an enemy machine gun opened fire and he fell to the ground. We presumed that the guy had been hit and were not expecting him to stand up but by some miracle he did. Seeing that he was unharmed the officer [probably Ed Wilkinson] ordered the soldier to continue forward, whereupon this time he was struck by a bullet and collapsed. The entire patrol then exited through the tree line in groups of twos and threes and headed down the slope [parallel with Route Madame] toward the eastern edge of Recogne. The men had only gone about 100 yards when they came under fire again and several of them were wounded.

  Back in the tree line, T/5 Walter Pelcher from the medical detachment (who had been attached to G Co at Mourmelon) began to remove his pack. Jim and some of the other men inquired what he thought he was doing. “I’m the guy who has to go out there and give first aid,” replied Pelcher. The men responded, “You’ll be no good to anyone if you go and get yourself killed.” Ignoring their advice he ran out into the snow toward the soldier farthest away. Throwing the wounded man across his shoulders, Pelcher returned through heavy small-arms fire to the relative safety of the “Finger.” “We all felt it was an incredibly brave thing to do and told him so,” recalls Jim, “but he didn’t seem to think he’d done anything out of the ordinary at all.”

  G Co were soon mobilized to assist H Co when the mission began to unravel. Jim Martin recounts:

  As we pushed beyond Recogne some 15 enemy tanks supported by infantry attacked our left flank and looked as though they might get behind us. We pulled back into the village but were unable to hold against the tank fire and tried to withdraw to our positions on the MLR. Our officers and NCOs were desperately trying to steady the line. As we were about to fall apart, 1st Lt Derwood Cann (battalion S3) turned up and by his sheer weight of command forced us to become soldiers again instead of a routed rabble. At the time we were under a great deal of pressure and had been driven to the point of physical exhaustion by hunger. I’d not always seen eye to eye with Cann since he broke his ankle in ’43 at Camp Mackall. Cann was very “GI,” and as Col Sink held him in such high esteem we always called him “Golden Boy.” He always thought I was a “Smart Aleck” but the thinly veiled animosity he frequently showed never stopped me from thinking that what he did in Recogne was one of the finest acts of military conduct anyone could imagine.

  When the situation escalated, 1 Ptn H Co were also committed and Sgt DiCarlo took privates Bill Briggs, Vernon Timm, Wilber Johnson, and T/5 Jack Grace from his 1st Squad and ran through the woods to lend a hand. On approaching the positions belonging to 2 Ptn G Co, Hank’s squad could hear the roar of tanks coming up the hill toward them. Using several unmade roads and logging tracks emanating from Recogne, the enemy armor had successfully managed to outflank G Co and circle around the Château d’Hoffschmidt and were now looking for a route into the western Bois Champay. “An assortment of around 20 armored fighting vehicles came into view accompanied by infantry,” recalls Hank, whose men took shelter inside the tree line belonging to 2 Ptn. The Panthers split into smaller groups, each taking a different route toward the ridge. Totally exposed, the German infantry were decimated by the 502nd, who were firmly entrenched further to the west along the semi-circular tree line overlooking the château. A number of tanks then began to converge on a single-track road that crossed the Route Madame on the right-hand edge of the G Co sector.

  From here the road ran through the forest behind the MLR and coursed south to Savy and the edge of Bastogne. Hank’s small force combined with a rearguard from G Co were able to neutralize the German stragglers now trying to catch up with the Panthers, but were unable to stem the advance. Upon crossing the MLR the enemy tanks were cut off by four Sherman TDs, which forced a couple of the Panthers into an adjacent field where they were knocked out. With their exit now blocked the other tanks had no choice but to continue forward through the woods toward Savy, where they were picked off one by one by antitank guns. Back in the field behind the MLR, the tank turrets flipped open, and rather than surrender, the crews ran toward the forest where they were cut down by H/502. Fighting was fierce around the château and the intense enemy shelling caused several deaths among the paratroopers.

  Finally, around midnight on Christmas Eve, the gunfire subsided. High above the MLR, Sirius – also known as the “Dog Star” – stood out in the night sky, twinkling brightly. The star encapsulated the “Holy Night” as it would have done 2,000 years before during the birth of Christ at Bethlehem. It was a sobering thought for those who had just participated in the battle, who now must have been wondering what the next few days would bring.

  “Hark the Herald Angels Sing”

  The day before the Christmas Eve attacks on the 502nd and 506th MLR, Maj Bob Harwick and 1st Bn were still in reserve at Luzery when they heard the sound of gunfire and artillery coming from the southwest, where the 327th GIR were holding the perimeter. By 1900hrs the battalion was placed on 30-minute alert for a possible move to support the glider infantry. “Meanwhile we waited and told incredibly bad jokes that we’d heard countless times before but still seemed hilarious. At midnight the staff formed a quartet at the CP and I called each company commander in turn and sang ‘Silent Night’ to them over the phone.”

  In an attempt to lighten the mood, LtCol Paul Danahy (divisional G2), from Minneapolis, sent a spoof situation report
to all command posts. The overlay, marked up with a red circle around the town, outlined the enemy positions, while in green were the words “Merry Christmas” scribbled over the American defenses. Meanwhile, 12 miles away to the north at Warnach, Combat Command B were moving in from the west, while Combat Command A from 4th Armored Division were heavily engaged against elements of the German 5.Fallschirmjäger-Division (Parachute Division).

  Divisional interrogator George Allen was still based at the police station in Bastogne and recalls, “Between December 20 and Christmas Day we received 537 German prisoners. The POWs usually arrived either late morning or early afternoon, and one captive who witnessed the supply drops remarked, ‘What can we do with an army that can put on such a spectacle?’ The air supply had no immediate effect on me, the IPW team, or the prisoners, as we were still groveling around in cellars looking for food. For the most part the POWs were dependent on the gruel we regularly dished up, containing turnips and potatoes, sweetened with sugar beet. Enviously we looked on as the trucks went out to the DZ and brought bundles back to a nearby supply dump where they were collected by their designated recipients.”

  During the afternoon, Allen walked into Bastogne looking for supplies and stopped for a moment to watch one of the Forward Air Controllers (FACs) at work. “From a jeep in the center of town, the Air Force officer was busy calling in air strikes. I watched with fascination while the captain checked his map, as an enemy tank was described by one of our regiments holding the perimeter. Seconds after requesting the next available ground-attack aircraft, a pilot came on the radio to confirm the grid coordinates before engaging. I was amazed how efficiently the system worked and how quickly a plane could be directed onto each target.” Captains Jim Parker (himself a pilot) and Richard Cherie, and Lt George Woldt made up the 101st Airborne Air Liaison Team. The three men worked closely with the FACs, and from their converted Sherman played a vital role during the siege. When the weather was more favorable, it was possible for the team to coordinate anything up to 19 squadrons of Thunderbolts at any one time.

  “On Christmas Eve, after another enemy bombing raid against the railway bridge on Route de Marche, our prisoners emerged from the cellars and began to sing a number of hymns including ‘Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht’ (Silent Night, Holy Night),” recalls George Allen. “One of the MPs requested ‘Wiegenlied’ (Cradle Song) by Brahms, which was beautifully delivered by our guests.” Allen continues:

  At 0230hrs on Christmas morning the Germans launched an attack against the northeastern side of the perimeter that was contained after some tough fighting. Later that day, after I’d made sure the German cooks had enough food and coal, I went for a walk to see the damage that the Luftwaffe had inflicted on the bridge. Two dead soldiers from the 28th ID were sprawled on the ground about 50ft away from their antiaircraft gun. One of them had the top of his head missing, exposing the brain. Returning to the Gendarmerie, I sat down with my three cooks, who now called me “Unser Kaporal” [Our Corporal] and chatted about what we traditionally did on Christmas Day. We wondered what our loved ones would be doing at this precise moment back home and discussed the two dead GIs.

  Many stragglers from the 28th Infantry and 9th Armored had recently been reconstituted by VIII Corps and sent back into action with the 101st around Bastogne. The small mobile reserve known as “Team SNAFU” (Situation Normal All Fouled Up) was created to reinforce positions around the perimeter. Stan Clever recalls one particular incident with a SNAFU replacement who had been assigned to him from the Quarter Master Corps: “I had a truck driver in my squad who managed to shoot himself in the foot while cleaning an M1 carbine. Some of my guys thought this was intentional but I believe it was just inexperience and poor weapon handling skills.” One night Lou Vecchi led a group of around 15 soldiers out to a forward OP. “They were all replacements of one sort or another and begged me not to leave them alone. They were so inexperienced and scared that I had to stay with them until it was time to return.” Certainly, at night the MLR could be a terrifying place, especially when the cries and moans of the wounded could be heard echoing across the battlefield.

  Merry Christmas from no-man’s land

  At 0525hrs on Christmas Day, 1st Bn was once again placed on alert and 3 hours later moved west from Luzery to Savy in support of the 502nd. That same night the Luftwaffe hit the caserne yet again, this time injuring several men from the S2, including Pfc Vinnie Utz, who lost his left arm. The bombing forced Col Sink to cut his losses and relocate along with Regimental HQ to Blaise Farm at Luzery, which had up until that point been occupied by Bob Harwick, who recalls: “We took off across the snowy fields and came across four enemy tanks that were still burning, marking the ‘high water mark’ of their recent attack from Recogne. Not long after our arrival at Savy we received further orders to dig in and form a second line of defense.” Ex-tanker Jack Grace and several colleagues from 1 Ptn H Co decided it would be a good idea to drive one of the enemy tanks abandoned during the failed Christmas Eve attack to Bastogne as a trophy.

  Despite the siege, before the move to Luzery, Regimental HQ were able to print and distribute the regimental tabloid Para-Dice Minor. Most popular with the men on the front lines were the writings of Dave Phillips as he recalls: “At the time I was based at the barracks working as a draftsman with the regimental S3. If we were quiet, SgtMaj Senior had me produce several news bulletins in which I wrote my own column – ‘Society Notes from Here and There’ – under the pseudonym of ‘Miss Champagne Belch.’” Dave’s Christmas offering was remembered by all those who had the opportunity to read it:

  Your society editor offers the following tips on where to go for dinner and dancing on your special night out… The Bastogne Bar & Grille is featuring a tasty little luncheon menu consisting mainly of “Ratione de Kay avec Café GI.” Gerald Kraut and his “88 piece” band furnish lively and varied entertainment during cocktail hour. After sundown, the club occasionally bills Mr Looft Waffe and his famous “Flare Dance”… “The Blue Bosche” up the street furnishes a clever program of native folk dances. The most entertaining is the renowned “German War Waltz” in which the chorus performs intricate circles with hands raised while singing the hit number of the show, as popularized by the “Wehrmacht Playboys,” entitled “I’m Forever Shouting Kamerad.”

  Further west, Ken Ross and the 502nd were on the receiving end of a regimental-scale assault from the 26.Volksgrenadier-Division, who were augmented by one battalion of tanks and two artillery battalions from Panzergrenadier-Regiment 15. “I happened to be out walking our dog, a stray that Regimental HQ had adopted, when the shelling began,” Ross recalls. The attack that followed was overwhelming and at one point even reached LtCol Steve Chappuis’ CP, forcing him to take up arms alongside his staff; and several enemy soldiers were cut down and killed in the orderly room. Two hours later, 1 mile further southwest, 18 enemy armored fighting vehicles broke through, carrying infantry supported by Panzergrenadier-Regiment 77 and attacked the line being held by 327th Glider Infantry between Champs and Hemroulle hoping to bypass the 502nd. During the course of the day six tanks were destroyed and two American TDs knocked out. Only after the FACs assigned to the 502nd called in air support from Ninth Air Force was the assault finally driven off.

  Toward the end of the day the Germans withdrew, leaving the woods and fields northwest of Mande-St-Étienne littered with bodies and wrecked vehicles. The joint action between the 327th and 502nd (who were formed into a task force by BrigGen Higgins) resulted in 165 enemy dead and 208 prisoners. The schoolhouse at Champs had seen much fighting as witnessed by this chalk message scribbled by one of the teachers across a classroom blackboard: “Let the world never see such a Christmas night again. To die far from one’s children, wife and mother, under artillery fire, there is no greater cruelty. To take away from his mother a son, a husband from his wife, a father from his children, is it worthy of a human being? Life can only be for love and respect. At the sight of ruins, of blood an
d death, universal fraternity will rise.”

  The anticipated follow-up attack did not come, and 1st Bn held their foxholes over Christmas in very cold and uncomfortable conditions, as Bob Harwick recalls: “By dawn on the 26th, I started rotating my men into local barns to catch up on some much-needed sleep. Shortly afterwards the attacks in our sector began to weaken as the Germans relocated their forces elsewhere to try and stop the Third Army relief now moving up from the south.”

  Back on the MLR, Cpl Bob Webb and S/Sgt Leroy Vickers from 3rd Bn communications platoon had been called out to repair a broken cable at the 81mm mortar OP in the “Eastern Eye.” Short and stocky, Leroy came from Silsbee in Texas, a small town north of Beaumont, where Bob grew up. Both men had enlisted at the same time and became great friends. Webb recalls:

  The wind was gusting and whipping up the snow, forcing it horizontally into our faces. At around 0200hrs, after taking care of the wire, we returned to the OP, which looked more like a log cabin than a hole in the ground. You could almost stand up in this thing, which had three or four bales of hay spread across the floor. The guys had a Coleman burner on a low heat and it was warm as toast. Taking off our equipment, we both sat down to get warmed up. The mortar boys offered us “clear coffee” served in a number ten fruit can. You’d bring your water to the boil and add coffee powder before dropping a small snowball into the cup, which immediately sank to the bottom, leaving you with “clear” coffee – it was such a neat trick.

  Over the last few weeks I’d been suffering from intense stomach cramps that seemed to be getting worse and had to go outside and use the toilet. Squatting over the nearby latrine, I noticed a figure moving toward me. I could just make out the shape of a man wearing a heavy overcoat carrying a rifle. “Oh God no,” I thought and slowly reached into my jacket for my pistol. The shadowy figure came closer and muttered something in German. Raising my .45, I carefully aimed at the man’s head before realizing it was Vickers! Thinking I was unarmed, that SOB thought he’d play a trick … boy did he ever get a surprise – thank heavens I didn’t pull the damn trigger.