The following is an exclusive excerpt from:
Chapter Five: Fighting Back: 20 December 1944
ON THE MORNING OF December 20, the Americans defending St. Vith held the easternmost position of any organized nature in the center sector of the Ardennes battleground. The most advanced elements of the German drive by this time were twenty-five miles to the southwest of St. Vith. The St. Vith perimeter, now of substantial size, continued to act as a breakwater while other German units forged westward past its northern and southern extensions. As yet, the enemy forces passing to the north and south failed to coalesce to the west of the St. Vith perimeter. The northern penetration, represented at its tip by the 1st SS Panzer Division, remained narrow and road-bound. Well to the rear of the 1st SS, the 9th SS Panzer Division, reinforced by the 519th Heavy Antitank Battalion, was toiling slowly westward on the single free main road, which served as the main supply route for two armored and two infantry divisions. The advance guard had arrived near Recht the previous evening.
The southern advance, which had carried a mass of German armor and infantry from the 47th and 58th Panzer Corps toward Bastogne and Houffalize, had the troops and the maneuver room to constitute a real threat to the southern and western sections of the St. Vith perimeter. The German successes in this area had already isolated the St. Vith forces from the remainder of VIII Corps, although a slim connection remained between the 7th Armored Division rear installations at La Roche and the VIII Corps headquarters at Bastogne. Communication between the 7th Armored rear headquarters and the St. Vith command post (thirty-five miles by road) was extremely difficult. Communication between the VIII Corps headquarters and the St. Vith command post was almost nonexistent, even by radio.
In the northern sector out on the Elsenborn Ridge, the 2nd Division was holding its own against the 12th SS, and the 99th Infantry Regiment “Battling Babies” fought hard as well. The battle for Stavelot continued on December 20. Kampfgruppe Sandig attacked repeatedly from the south but could not cross the river. While supporting these attacks, a Tiger was knocked out by an antitank round at the southern approach to the bridge. Since the tank did not catch fire, the crew remained inside until they could escape under cover of darkness. This is almost certainly the same action described by Captain Raney of the 823rd Tank Destroyer Battalion, whose M-10 tank destroyers were firing at the Tigers:
We saw the long tube of the Tiger’s 88mm gun emerge from behind the last building. The M-10 gunner must have been tracking the tank with his telescopic sight, for as the Tiger cleared the building, the M-10 fired one round of armor piercing shot which penetrated the armor on the right side above the track, about 14 inches under the turret and four to five feet to the rear of the front glacis plate. The Tiger stopped in its tracks. . . . Surprisingly the tank did not burn.
One by one, a few Tigers continued to arrive at Stavelot and assist the battle. However, most were still broken down far behind. Spare parts and fuel were in short supply. Peiper would get no further reinforcements from his heavy tank battalion. [DESIGNER: Insert image 03.03]
The Germans made a mad dash for an Allied fuel storage facility at Stavelot, where three million gallons of gasoline were stored. The 3rd Armored Division and the 30th Infantry Division beat them to the dump and successfully removed all the gasoline within twenty-four hours. By December 20, the Germans had increased the depth of the horseshoe to fifty miles and the width to thirty miles. On the 20th , German infantry made repeated counterattacks in a desperate effort to recapture Stavelot. Here, the GIs pitted themselves against the 1st SS Panzer Division.
Also on the 20th, General Gavin’s 82nd Airborne Division deployed its four regiments along the front lines to the east of Werbomont and immediately went into action. At 1950 hours over in Oufny, the 376th opened fire in the direction of the village of Chêneux. The 319th Battalion moved out at 1900 hours to Goronne, in support of the 508th Regiment, while the 320th Glider Battalion redeployed to the town of Brux near Lierneux during the afternoon, in support of the 325th Glider Regiment. Finally, the heavy howitzers of the 254th Battalion left Werbomont at 1815 hours to settle in position in the vicinity of the town of Lavaux, also in the Lierneux area.
Seymour Reitman: I saw that a few stragglers had joined up with us [2nd Battalion, 395th Regiment, 99th Division], some tankers and anti-aircraftmen. I found a blanket along the way and a large can of string beans, which was a whole meal for all of us in the five-man squad. During the offensive, we only had three rations, and that was it. We reached Elsenborn Ridge at night because the 2nd Division opened a line for us. I remember we ended up on a hill, and they drove these mess trucks right on the top of the hill and started to serve breakfast. I dug in a slit trench with another guy, a straggler we picked up as a replacement. Well, the artillery began to fall, and this replacement from St. Louis started shivering because he was so fearful. He was not the only one, but I was used to artillery being fired. I stood up and I said, “Nothing’s happening, and if something is going to happen . . . ”
Then a shell hit nearby, and I slid back down in the trench. I saw the food was still there, and I said, “To hell with this, I am going to get some food.” The replacement had not been with us, so he was not as hungry as I was. I went up with my mess kit and got what they were serving, and when the artillery started up again, I dove underneath the truck. When it ended, I jumped back in my trench and ate my breakfast.
John Hillard Dunn: Early in the morning of Wednesday the 20th, we [Company H, 423rd Regiment, 106th Division] were started on a march to Gerolstein. The Heinies told us that it would take only a few hours. It took eighteen hours, and the distance covered was forty-two kilometers. Because they had no place to confine us at Gerolstein, the Heinies forced us to stand in the cold mud of the road all night. Late Thursday afternoon, December 21, we were finally fed, a bag of hard crackers and cheese; eight men to a twelve ounce can of what smelled like limburger and tasted as if it had been made in a sewer.
Thursday evening, we were herded into “40 by 8” cars—sixty men to a car. The most recent passengers had been horses, and nobody had cleaned out after them.
We received no more food nor water for two days—until our train laid over in Limburg. We also had something else that night, Saturday the 23rd—a visit from the RAF. Sweating out a night bombing locked up in a boxcar is no way to enjoy the holiday season, I assure you. The RAF did enough damage to the Limburg railroad yards to hold up our train for another twenty-four hours, but the bombs missed the train. Eight GIs were killed and twenty wounded in another car because they didn’t believe a warning that the Heinie machine guns would open up if they tried to break out during the bombing.
Sunday night was Christmas Eve, and we waited—not for Santa Claus, but for the RAF. Limburg wasn’t on the schedule, though, and as the weary hours wore on, we took to singing all the Christmas carols and hymns we could remember.
The next morning, we were on our way again and after a few hours reached Bad Orb, Germany, where 1,800 of us from the 106th and 1,400 from the 28th Division were to stay 106 days before our liberation by the Seventh Army in April.
As we marched into Stalag IX B on a bright, clear Christmas afternoon, somebody recalled the common nickname of the 106th—the “Hungry and Sick.” And a soft voiced Southerner, who was given to leading the hymns and to chew¬ing the tobacco from our soggy butts, said with a disarming solemnity, “Well, I reckon we can always say the Hungry and Sick was the first American division to cross the Rhine.”
Many soldiers from the 106th were destined to spend the remaining months of World War II not in the Stalags reserved for POWs. Several hundred who were Jewish or who “looked” Jewish were sent to Berga, a notorious concentration camp of the Third Reich.
Frank Forcinella: We [2nd Regiment, 5th Infantry Division] got notice about the Bulge the day after the Bulge began. It was very snowy and cold in the trucks, and we were up against each other to try and keep warm. We got used to the weather. We were pretty well equipped with ammunition, but we were not prepared for the cold. We had a raincoat, and in the wintertime it would stiffen up. It was not too bad in the rain or snow because you would have a little bit of protection. We did not have white uniforms, but we later received white sheets, and they did work a little bit, but the minute you hit the ground they turned black from the mud.
When we arrived in Luxembourg, we were not far from the front, and we were moving. The area that we hit was defensive because they had foxholes there with logs on top.
John Kline: Left Bleialf at 0630. We [M Company, 423rd Regiment, 106th “Golden Lion” Division] were on the road until 2300 that night. We had no water or food except for the snow from the ground. During the march, as we were going through a very small village, the Germans stopped us in front of some civilians. They made us take off our overshoes and give them to the civilians. That was when I discovered that my right overshoe had been ripped open on the backside by shrapnel. The shrapnel had cut through my backside of my rubber overshoe, leather combat boot, and heavy sock. It had then cut around but not through my Achilles tendon. It was a small wound, but had it gone any deeper it would have cut my tendon, and I would have been unable to walk. There was much evidence, in the area, that a large-scale battle had taken place. I remember, as we were leaving Bleialf, walking through a small village. It could have been outskirts of Bleialf, or some small village nearby. There were German troops in American jeeps.
They were opening ration boxes and meat cans. They were eating our Christmas dinner. My guess is that this had been our battalion supply depot. As we walked through the area, I was surprised to see my jeep with four Germans in it. I was positive it was mine. I had personally painted my son’s name, Teddie, on the jeep, and the name was there. There had been a real shootout, with hand-to-hand fighting. There were dead Americans and Germans lying in doors and ditches and hanging out of windows. The infighting must have been fierce, for some of the bodies were on top of each other.
As we left the town and just before we made a slight right turn that led us into the country, I saw a two-story stone building. Its upper floor was occupied by several young women, who waved at us through the open windows as we went by. I have often wondered if they were brought along by the Germans. The road we were on eventually took us through Prüm, Germany, the town that I could see from our positions on the Schnee Eifel. We ended up that evening sleeping in an open field near Gerolstein, Germany.
Charles Haug: Several waves of Germans hit our positions [112th Regiment, 28th Infantry Division] on the edge of town during this time, but all of them were repelled by our troops. On one attack, our men captured about ten Krauts, and they were brought into the town for questioning. The guys we were helping in the town still had a radio set with them, and they were constantly trying to contact some of our troops in the rear to see if there was any help headed in our direction. Several times they were able to contact other outfits, but each time they would contact one, they would always report that their opposition was too great and they were pulling out for the rear. There seemed to be no help coming from anywhere. We ourselves had now retreated about thirty miles since the first day of the attack, and it looked as if the only thing we could do was start retreating again. Finally, our radiomen contacted some tank outfit, and they said they would come and help us. They ran out of gas before they ever got to us, though, and they were caught helplessly by some attacking Krauts.
During the forenoon of this second day, two of our men in the holes at the edge of town shot themselves through the foot. They said it had happened accidentally, but our officers knew better. These guys just couldn’t take it any longer, so they figured if they shot themselves, the medics would see to it that they got safely to the rear. Had they known that they would be left in the town when we started to retreat again at noon, I’m sure they would have pointed their guns in some other direction.
Yes, by noon of this day, we were once more on the retreat. The Germans had pulled up with heavy forces and tanks to the edge of our town. Our officers knew it was useless for our few men to try to hold against them as they started to attack, so we all moved into the thick woods behind the town. I have no idea as to how far we walked, but I know that by this time the morale of our remaining men was very low. Everyone was hungry and tired and cold. Whenever two or three of us got together, we would always find ourselves talking about one subject. That was the big question as to whether or not we should give ourselves up the next time we were attacked. For the past week, we had only had a few bites to eat, and our stomachs ached. We had been beaten every time we had met the Krauts, and they seemed to be getting more powerful all the time. We knew of no help coming from the rear, and we thought that the American lines must have crumbled throughout all of Europe. We thought the Germans were winning the war.
Zeke Prust: December 20th. At the edge of Bastogne, there was a vehicle that had been hit, and we [Service Company, 54th Armored Infantry Battalion, 10th Armored Division] were to go down and retrieve it.
During the forenoon of this second day, two of our men in the holes at the edge of town shot themselves through the foot. They said it had happened accidentally, but our officers knew better. These guys just couldn’t take it any longer, so they figured if they shot themselves, the medics would see to it that they got safely to the rear. Had they known that they would be left in the town when we started to retreat again at noon, I’m sure they would have pointed their guns in some other direction.
Yes, by noon of this day, we were once more on the retreat. The Germans had pulled up with heavy forces and tanks to the edge of our town. Our officers knew it was useless for our few men to try to hold against them as they started to attack, so we all moved into the thick woods behind the town. I have no idea as to how far we walked, but I know that by this time the morale of our remaining men was very low. Everyone was hungry and tired and cold. Whenever two or three of us got together, we would always find ourselves talking about one subject. That was the big question as to whether or not we should give ourselves up the next time we were attacked. For the past week, we had only had a few bites to eat, and our stomachs ached. We had been beaten every time we had met the Krauts, and they seemed to be getting more powerful all the time. We knew of no help coming from the rear, and we thought that the American lines must have crumbled throughout all of Europe. We thought the Germans were winning the war.
Zeke Prust: December 20th. At the edge of Bastogne, there was a vehicle that had been hit, and we [Service Company, 54th Armored Infantry Battalion, 10th Armored Division] were to go down and retrieve it.
The driver told the captain, “Jam it! That’s just like digging our own grave.”
So the captain said, “You’re no longer the driver.”
He pointed to me and said, “You drive.”
From that time on I drove the tank. That was something I did not anticipate, but I was happy that I was driving the tank.
William W. Fee: In the morning, we [55th Armored Infantry Battalion, 11th Armored Division] had PT and a class by Lieutenant Been on mine detection. At noon, we got the word that we would move out the next morning. We still thought we were going to St. Nazaire and Lorient. I noticed Tony Petrelli testing the radios. In the afternoon, Technical Sergeant McClain gave a lecture on scouting and patrolling. I took pictures of Jim Pike, Ed Bergh, Lee Hens, and myself by our pup tents, and then Lee and I went over to the houses and took pictures of each other there, wrapped in MG ammo and sitting on bomb casings.
W. D. Crittenberger: December 20th: When the Germans kept coming in, we [420th Field Artillery Battalion, 10th Armored Division] had to raise our artillery high to hit them, so we moved across Bastogne out to the west to a small town called Senonchamps. We could reach the whole perimeter from there. It was a good location. The Germans who were trying to get by the armor and the airborne on the east side of town, they started to come around, and they tried to come in the back door, that was where we were. We had two or three firefights everyday, but we could hold them off, since we had machine guns on our halftracks and vehicles. We also had a battery of triple-A, self-propelled, four-guns mounted on a track. We called them woodchoppers because when they swept the woods, the trees fell down. We had those, 105mm howitzers, and halftracks, so we could handle the Germans until the 101st came.
So the captain said, “You’re no longer the driver.”
He pointed to me and said, “You drive.”
From that time on I drove the tank. That was something I did not anticipate, but I was happy that I was driving the tank.
William W. Fee: In the morning, we [55th Armored Infantry Battalion, 11th Armored Division] had PT and a class by Lieutenant Been on mine detection. At noon, we got the word that we would move out the next morning. We still thought we were going to St. Nazaire and Lorient. I noticed Tony Petrelli testing the radios. In the afternoon, Technical Sergeant McClain gave a lecture on scouting and patrolling. I took pictures of Jim Pike, Ed Bergh, Lee Hens, and myself by our pup tents, and then Lee and I went over to the houses and took pictures of each other there, wrapped in MG ammo and sitting on bomb casings.
W. D. Crittenberger: December 20th: When the Germans kept coming in, we [420th Field Artillery Battalion, 10th Armored Division] had to raise our artillery high to hit them, so we moved across Bastogne out to the west to a small town called Senonchamps. We could reach the whole perimeter from there. It was a good location. The Germans who were trying to get by the armor and the airborne on the east side of town, they started to come around, and they tried to come in the back door, that was where we were. We had two or three firefights everyday, but we could hold them off, since we had machine guns on our halftracks and vehicles. We also had a battery of triple-A, self-propelled, four-guns mounted on a track. We called them woodchoppers because when they swept the woods, the trees fell down. We had those, 105mm howitzers, and halftracks, so we could handle the Germans until the 101st came.
