by Bill Mesce
“So – ”
“So in my estimation, as an expert in military intelligence and tactical analysis, it is my professional opinion that the reason we’re still screwing around in there is because nobody – not General Collins, not General Gerow at V Corps – most of this mess is in his operational area – not General Hodges, not General Bradley – nobody wants to be the guy who says, ‘Ok, we done got whupped; let’s back up and go around.’ So, since September, we’ve been feeding one division after another into this meat grinder without a hell of a lot to show for it.”
“And the role of Lieutenant Sisto’s battalion in all this?”
Van Damm turned to the next map, this one concentrating on a particular sector of the Huertgen. “Hill 399 was only ancillary to the primary objective. The ultimate goal here – what we’re being told from Versailles – is to close all along the Rhine. Now; if you can get across the Roer River – that’s this little sewer here – you’re out of the woods – literally. All these damned lousy trees are behind you, and you’ve got a nice, flat, open plain with nothing between you and the Rhine but the few krauts who don’t get out of your way fast enough and get run into the ground. This little burg here – Schmidt – is on high ground that commands a crossing over the Roer.
“Ok, now over here, General Cota’s Keystoners had pushed down along the Kall Trail moving kind of west. It’s impossible to set up any kind of cohesive line over that ground, so he was holding in all these other little burgs, like a string of frontier forts: Germeter, Vossenack, Kommerscheidt, leading up to Schmidt.
“Now, here’s Hill 399, just north of Schmidt. Because of all the damned trees, any high ground out there is gold. From 399, the krauts could eyeball Kommerschedit and down the trail almost to the Kall River. Hard to make any kind of move in this area without them getting on the horn to their artillery and calling all kinds of royal hell down on your head. And the lee of that hill is good ground to springboard an attack; from 399 you can threaten any push on Schmidt. But if we hold the hill…
“The krauts have been re–supplying and reinforcing along three other roads coming into Schmidt: one from the northeast, this one from the southeast, and this extension of the Kall Trail from the southwest. If we sit on top of the hill, we not only protect a drive on Schmidt, but we can call down interdiction fire on all three supply routes; starve ‘em on the vine.”
“So, the idea – ” Harry stepped up close to the map, his stubby–fingered hand outlining each phase. “ – if I’m analyzing this right, was to take the hill to secure Schmidt; to take Schmidt to secure a crossing over the Roer; to cross the Roer and drive to the Rhine.”
Van Damm nodded approvingly. “You’re good, Colonel. Been taking lessons?” He turned back to the map. “But what we’ve realized way too late is that even if we’d pulled this off, punched through to Schmidt and got across the Roer, we would’ve been up to our arse in trouble. See, the krauts hold a bunch of dams further north across the Roer; up here.” Van Damm indicated an area beyond the upper border of the map. “Even if we’d got across the river onto this plain, the krauts could’ve opened the floodgates and then whoever was out there, they’d be like Pharaoh and his boys when the Red Sea closed up. So now, instead of pushing through here, we’re working up plans to take the dams. The focus is so changed – and the Germans know it – that both sides have pulled back from 399.”
“You mean – ”
“I mean we’ve pulled back, and the krauts have abandoned the hill.”
“Abandoned.” I know that the point had already arisen during Harry’s quick preliminary discussion with Van Damm before the afternoon session, but it still seemed to rankle him. “Abandoned. So all the fighting in November – what Lieutenant Sisto and his battalion went through – was for nothing?”
The usually brash Van Damm seemed uncommonly somber just then, unable to actually make the statement. His silence, however, was answer enough.
The impact on the jury panel was clear and immediate: disgust, grief, anger.
“Colonel Van Damm, considering what you just said, it’s even harder for me now than before to understand why the attack orders for the battalion were so urgent. From what we’ve heard, the battalion was not even given time to reconnoiter the hill prior to their first assault.”
“You’d find that’s been the rule of the day since we got tangled up in the Huertgen. Nobody up top can believe it’s taking us this long to clear these woods. The longer it takes, the more flak they give the field units; ‘Hurry up, let’s get the show on the road!’ Understand? They’re in such a rush to finish this thing up, there’s no proper planning, no proper prep, no proper recon. The end result is they wind up making the mess bigger instead of better.
“In the case of Hill 399, they rushed the assault on the hill because the Keystoners had actually gotten a toehold in Schmidt, but Cota’s people were taking a hell of a pasting in there. From the minute they got there it was an open question whether or not they could hold. The idea was take the hill to relieve the pressure on the men in Schmidt, give ‘em a chance to expand their lodgment without worrying about being cut–off. But the hill didn’t get taken, and while Lieutenant Sisto’s battalion was fighting it out on 399, the 28th did get pushed out of Schmidt. That gave the brass a real rash to take the hill because now they were afraid the krauts’d keep on going, push the 28th out of Kommerscheidt and maybe all the way back across the Kall River.”
“Was the collapse of the situation at Schmidt the reason that higher echelons took a direct hand in conducting field operations?”
Van Damm smiled wryly. He reached into his windcheater pocket and withdrew a cellophane–wrapped cigar. “Anybody mind? For some reason, it makes me feel warmer, because God knows, this fire of yours isn’t cutting the mustard with me.” Ryan nodded tolerantly, and Van Damm crossed to the fireplace. “What you said there, I think the brass at Corps – and higher up – I think that’s what they like to think. But I’ll give you another one of my professional judgements: it’s more a matter of idle hands, you know?” Van Damm lit his cigar from a fireplace taper, and soon the sweet smell of burning wood was undercut by the unpleasant odor of cheap tobacco. “Over the summer, after the Normandy breakout, our spearheads were zipping across France so fast the big brass had to give field commanders their head. No sooner would an HQ get set up when they had to pull up stakes and move it forward because the columns were moving so fast. But now everything’s settling down. Up at Corps, up at Army, they’ve got a lot of time to concentrate on small unit actions now. Too much.
“I’m going to tell you why this is not a good thing. This is not a good thing because I’ve been to V Corps, I’ve been to VII Corps. I’ve been to Ninth Army Headquarters. I’ve been to 12th Army Group Headquarters. And I’ll be damned if I can find a single soul at any of ‘em that’s got off his arse and gone into the Huertgen to see what the skinny is for himself.”
“So what information are they using as a basis for operations planning?”
Van Damm chuckled like a man who knows something he knows other people will later regret hearing. “Let me explain something to everybody here about Army Intelligence. Since December ‘41, this Army has got very big very fast. Lots of slots to fill, ok? Which means not all Intelligence officers are professional, seasoned Intelligence wizards. Most of the time, there’s no such thing. They grab some college graduate, they say, ‘Hey, this guy sounds intelligent; let’s put him in Intelligence.’ It’s not like the new G–2 candidate gets conked in the head with a Government Issue magic wand that suddenly blesses him with insight, perception, and tactical expertise. He gets some training and everybody hopes for the best.
“Now, intelligence processing mostly moves in one direction: up. A battalion S–2 bucks what he knows up to regiment; regiment bucks it up to division; and so on. But there’s not a lot of cross talk; not between the field units, so maybe each of them has a piece of a picture, but no idea how it fits into anything else.
Somewhere high enough, somebody’s got enough pieces to make a picture, but he only passes back down what he thinks the line outfits need to know. And even then, you got to hope this guy is putting the pieces together right.
“What I’ve been finding is too many times these guys are making the picture they want to see. That’s why they can’t understand what’s happening in the Huertgen. They keep remembering how they ran the krauts out of France PDQ. They think because they beat the krauts there, that they’re beaten. Well, folks, I’m here to tell you; ‘beat’ ain’t ‘beaten.’
“Right now, the Germans’ve got their backs against it. They’re not fighting to win the war now; they’re fighting for their damned homes, understand? You don’t think if the krauts landed in Boston we wouldn’t really dig in our heels?”
“I understand all this,” Harry said. “But this has been going on since September. You would think it would occur to somebody up top – ”
Van Damm now answered bitterly. “What occurs to them is what they want to think, and they want to think the krauts are finished. They say there must not be anything left over there but kids and old men. The Air Corps says, ‘Hey, we’ve been bombing these guys for two–and–a–half years; they can’t have enough industrial capacity left to build a slingshot.’ That’s all what they say. But before you buy into all that, I suggest you take a walk along the Siegfried Line.
“Even if they were right that the Reich is down to the bottom of the barrel on manpower – and they’re not – you don’t need to stick some killer–diller Waffen SS fanatic in a pillbox behind a machine gun to give you a bloody nose. Any 4–F with a shot glass of guts could do that, and don’t make a mistake thinking the kraut is some kind of different animal then us; guts he’s got.
“And maybe the air boys got a point that the krauts aren’t making as many tanks and fighter planes as they used to. But you go up and down that line, and you’ll find all those supposed old men and kids, they have rifles, grenades, Schmeissers, MG 42s, mortars, artillery, and they don’t seem short of ammo either. You go look at what’s left of our divisions coming out of the Huertgen and ask them if it looks like the krauts are on their last legs.”
Van Damm jabbed at the map of the Hurtgen. “They look at this, but they don’t see! Every bullet, biscuit, and pair of GI BVDs has to come 3000 miles across the Atlantic, then by truck all the way from either Normandy or Antwerp. Then, you’re trying to sustain an attack along the Kall Trail against this beautiful defensive ground. Trying to send enough materiel down this swamp to feed a major attack is like trying to crap a watermelon!
“But on the kraut side, they’re right in front of the Ruhr Valley. What Detroit is to cars, the Ruhr is to munitions production. Our stuff has to come from half–way around the world and then down this crappy little trail, and the other guy is fighting from the front porch of his hardware store.
“You want a bulleted G–2 analysis, fellas? You’ve got a committed, well–armed, and well–dug–in enemy in the Huertgen, and an American senior staff that just flat–out doesn’t accept it. That’s what we’re doing in all those goddamn tress; that’s why we’re still there!”
Harry – again, the insanity of the situation striking him afresh – shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching with anger under restraint. “How have upper echelons been explaining the stalemate?”
The appointed sentry had returned with Van Damm’s coffee and toast. Without pausing in his disquisition, crumbs tumbling across his battle dress, the G–2 colonel continued on: “They blame the troops. They blame the field commanders. They say the line outfits aren’t being ‘aggressive enough.’”
Which brought another wave of winces and angry glares from the jury panel.
“You’ve really got to have your head in the sand to come up with that one,” Van Damm went on. “Look at what happened to the 28th. Now that’s Dutch Cota’s outfit. Dutch Cota not aggressive enough?”
Pietrowski’s eyes narrowed angrily.
“Come on! That guy’s a fire–eater! And the 28th isn’t some green outfit just off the boat! That’s a commander with a good combat record, a division with a good combat record, and after two weeks in the Huertgen their casualty list is longer than their duty roster! I add that up, I think maybe they got given a nut can’t be cracked. But up top, that look at it and come back with, ‘Tell ‘em to try harder.’ And since the brass thinks the failure is in the field, that’s all the more reason for them – in their heads – to call the shots.
“So, what you’ve got is guys who don’t know the board, don’t know the game, and don’t know the other player calling the plays and blaming the pieces when it doesn’t come out the way they want.”
It was a lot of information to digest and Harry took a moment, falling back on his program of pacing the courtroom well while he referenced his index cards, allowing the jury panel time to absorb what they’d heard, understand how all of this higher echelon cogitating had impacted on them directly in the hellish weeks they’d served in the Huertgen.
I took the opportunity to study Courie now sunk glumly in his seat. While none of what Van Damm had said thus far directly altered the salient facts Courie had so resolutely pounded home – that Dominick Sisto had disobeyed an order from Whitcomb Joyce – it undoubtedly was creating a sympathetic bond between the man awaiting judgment, and those who would be his judges, all of whom had served in the same (to use Van Damm’s singularly appropriate appellation) “meat grinder.”
“Colonel Van Damm,” Harry addressed after his pause, and allowed the G–2 officer to clear his palate with a noisy slurp of coffee, “we heard testimony – an assessment, I guess you could call it – that, for all the resistance the Germans were putting up at Hill 399, that they must have been being worn down over the three days the battalion was on the attack. In fact, on each of the three assaults, the battalion did make progress: the second day they did take the German trenches, and the third day they did actually make it to the top of the hill.”
Van Damm sucked a crumb clear of his teeth. “Goody for them. Like I said: you have to know the board, you have to know the game, you have to know the other player. The krauts don’t look to stop you at the line of scrimmage. That’s not their game. They defend in depth. You got parts of the Siegfried Line where the defenses are built thousands of yards deep. The typical strategy is to wear you down, then counterattack; cut off and destroy the penetration.”
“So these advances on 399 didn’t necessarily indicate – ”
“They indicated the krauts know what they’re doing is what they indicated.” Van Damm planted his cigar in the corner of his mouth and turned to the next placard: Hill 399.
The hill was roughly chevron–shaped, the apex pointing north away from Schmidt, the left wing of the hill shorter and not as broad as the right.
“Here’s the hill,” Van Damm mumbled past his cigar. “The east slope is about a thousands yards top to bottom, at an easy angle. The west slope is much steeper, runs maybe only seven, eight hundred yards. The top half of the hill is cleared of trees so the krauts have a hell of a field of vision for observation purposes. That also happens to give them a hell of killing ground. The krauts doctrine is usually a defense laid out in three zones. Obviously, on the hill they didn’t have the room to set it up over the same kind of range they do on level ground, but the principles are all there; just in a compact form.”
Van Damm ran a finger along the line of trenches about a third of the way from the top of the hill that extended across the face of the forward slope. “First defense zone, this is what they call the vorfeldzone – pardon my pronunciation, fellas – this line of trenches here. Mostly open infantry emplacements, anchored at spots with ‘Tobruks’ – ”
“‘Tobruks?’”
“They call ‘em that because we first saw ‘em in North Africa. It’s a concrete gun pit. Anyway, just to get to the trenches you have to cross ten, twenty yards of double–apron barbed wire and mines. That�
�ll give you a hard time, but it’s not meant to necessarily stop you; just to break up your momentum. What happens if you do get past this is you start to fill in those trenches and the kraut defenders withdraw along these communication trenches that lead back to the grosskampfzone. And now you’re stuck in those goddamned trenches.
“Now this is the real backbone of the defense. See, the top of this hill comes up, like a crown. This second defense line consists of heavy bunkers dug into the base of that crown, angled so they have overlapping fields of fire. Some are reinforced concrete, but most of them, they used all that timber they cleared off the hill. They build these things up with a layer of logs, then dirt, logs again, then dirt, they go on like that making it maybe a couple of feet thick. The heaviest fire supporting the battalion’s attacks were 105 mm howitzers from divisional artillery. A one–oh–five shell isn’t going to do more to most of those emplacements then shake ‘em up inside a little. And, the gun ports are recessed to keep you from getting a grenade in there providing you could ever get that close. And you’re not going to get that close because from the trenches to these bunkers you got 150 yards of no damned cover at all. You’re fixed!
“This is the backstop up here, behind the bunkers, on top of this crown area: another series of trenches and Tobruks – the ruckwartigezone. The rear parapets are built up so that you can’t take advantage of the morning sun silhouetting the defenders. And, because of the angle of the hill slope, each of these succeeding lines can fire in support of the one in front.
“Now, on the reverse slope you have personnel shelters. This is where they hole up during the artillery prep, and where they stash their reserves.
