


          * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
          *                                                       *
          *    OUR PURSUIT OF THE GERMANS TO THE GERMAN BORDER    *
          *                                                       *
          * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

          After leaving Paris, the 4th Division made an exhausting
          dash across northern France and Belgium to Germany. We
          left Paris on August 27 and crossed into Germany seventeen
          days later on September 13. My recollections for this period
          are limited. Fortunately, however, shortly before going into
          Germany, I wrote letters which remind me of events.
          
          Dear Folks, Sunday, September 10, 1944, Somewhere in
          Belgium
          
          Believe me when I say that this has been my first
          opportunity to write since we left Paris. As the press will tell
          you, things have been moving very rapidly. We go from early
          morning until late at night. Moving until we come across
          some Jerries, cleaning them out and then moving on again.
          By the time we stop in the evening, everyone is quite tired.
          For myself, I just eat and go to sleep.
          
          I expect we shall fight just one more hard battle. No doubt
          its outcome will have been decided before you receive this
          letter. When we have cracked the West Wall defenses, which
          are somewhat of an enigma to us just now, the German
          Wehrmacht as such will have been completely broken. True,
          they will be able to resist some; and, if the civilians decided
          to fight, this could turn into a pretty nasty mess, with a
          useless slaughter of men, women, and children. I hope this
          is unnecessary.
          
          These Belgians are an unusual group. To me, they vary
          greatly from the French. In many towns their welcome is
          every bit as enthusiastic as the French. There are generous
          supplies of wine, shouting, and flowers. However, they go in
          for kissing less, darn it! Their practice of giving out bread
          with butter is much more practical, though.
          
          The Belgians have their own army of the interior. It is
          usually referred to as the Maquis. It seems much better
          organized and more aggressive than the French Forces of the
          Interior (FFI). Certainly they have been of more value to us.
          We have been very well informed as to the enemies' location
          and strength all the time. They are of infinite value as a
          source of information.
          
          Yesterday we moved our CP (command post) into a Belgian
          home. They put out their flag for the first time in years.
          Across the field came a platoon of Maquis from out of the
          woods. Their commander called them to attention and they
          saluted the flag. The commander broke out with a profusion
          of tears. There was a strange silence. Then he got control of
          himself and dismissed the group. Being the nearest at hand,
          all came over and shook hands with me.
          
          The group started showing me their weapons, many dropped
          by parachute, some taken from the Germans. One showed
          me his .45, and in turn I showed him mine. Someone
          suggested a swap, which was immediately arranged. Now, I
          have his, and he has mine. Both of us are pleased.
          
          All the country we pass through is beautiful. This is rolling
          country, with many hills and steep valleys. Patches of
          woods, usually pine, dot the countryside. One couldn't call
          them forests, only woods. There are frequent valleys and
          small settlements of homes, apparently few towns or cities. 
          
          But all goes well. We all have high hopes.
          
          Love, John
          
          Dear Dad, September 10, 1944, Somewhere in Belgium
          
          Yes, Dad, believe me, I exercise the greatest care and follow
          more of your advice than you probably suspect. I have made
          mistakes and had some narrow escapes, both to be
          expected. Also, sometimes I take chances, but only those
          necessary to perform my duties.
          
          The other day I had the first man in my section wounded,
          after three months of combat. He was only wounded slightly.
          I believe this is good after being with the infantry since D-
          Day. Let's hope our good luck continues.
          
          I felt badly at losing this man, since he had been my radio
          operator and right hand man since the minute we hit the
          beach. However, as I explained to the section, he made a
          bad mistake. It's no crime to be hit by the first shell, but
          one should seldom be hit by succeeding rounds. He was,
          when he exposed himself without need after a shelling
          started.
          
          The war moves rapidly. Those who said combat is mostly
          resting and little fighting didn't have this campaign in mind.
          It's been a constant pressure ever since we started, with
          only a week of rest just before we went into Paris. It is of
          some interest to me that I am possibly moving over the
          same terrain that you did in World War I.
          
          Your son, John
          
          As these letters indicate, our advance to the German border
          was not without resistance. When my radio operator was
          wounded, we were in a small farm community in a valley.
          A German artillery observer evidently had us under
          observation, and we were subject to periodic shelling. The
          operator went out to our jeep during a shelling and picked
          up a shell fragment in his leg. We pulled him into a
          building, and the medics put him on a stretcher and
          evacuated him. This was all rather messy, since the shell
          had landed in a pile of manure.
          
          During the confusion, a scoundrel stole the stove from our
          jeep. Since we depended on this to heat our rations, this
          made me very angry. However, I managed, with some effort,
          to persuade our supply people to give me another.       


          THE GERMANS FOUGHT AN EFFECTIVE DELAYING ACTION

          Although the Germans were unable to establish a new
          defense line in either France or Belgium, they were clever at
          delaying our advance. At one point, we were moving across
          open farming country. When an advance patrol approached
          the edge of a patch of woods, it received fire. The battalion
          halted to organize for an attack, which included getting the
          artillery into position to fire.
          
          By that time, our supply lines from the beach and
          Cherbourg were getting very long. It was, therefore, difficult
          to get enough gasoline to move the tank chassis on which
          the artillery pieces were mounted. At one point, almost the
          entire V Corps, to which the 4th Division was attached, was
          out of gasoline. Even the organization of the Red Ball
          Express, which used over 6,000 vehicles, did not solve the
          worsening supply problems.
          
          After contacting the artillery, I stood by a haystack and
          watched the drama unfold. The trucks which were carrying
          the infantry halted out of range of an anti-tank gun which
          the Germans had. The infantry dismounted and began to
          deploy on either side of the road. An artillery observation
          plane appeared above us. Soon a single shell screeched
          overhead and landed short of the trees. Soon there was
          another, which landed in the trees. A German machine gun
          began to fire at the aircraft. It began to weave and bob, to
          make it harder to hit it. A volley of artillery shells screamed
          overhead and landed in the trees. The machine gun stopped
          firing.
          
          By the time the infantry was ready to attack, it was late in
          the afternoon. The infantry battalion commander decided,
          therefore, to wait until the next day. During the night, a
          great many artillery shells were fired into the woods.
          
          When the infantry moved forward the next morning, it was
          not fired upon. During the night, the Germans had
          withdrawn. They did this, however, in such haste that they
          did not take time to bury the men who lay on the ground
          in grotesque positions. In addition, they abandoned an anti-
          tank gun which had been hit by an artillery shell.
          
          Another recollection concerns Ernest Hemingway. One day
          he came roaring past our column of vehicles in a jeep.
          When reading Carlos Baker's biography, I learned that Buck
          Lanham had sent him a letter taunting him for lingering in
          Paris. He was, therefore, on his way to join the 22nd
          Regiment. Shortly after he passed us, we passed him at a
          crossroad. He waved and pointed proudly to a few Germans
          he had "captured." This did not impress us, since Germans
          were at that time surrendering by the hundreds. When they
          came out of the woods with their hands up, we waved to
          them to head toward the rear and kept going. (The picture
          of Hemingway and Capa would have been taken about this 
          time.)                                               


          WE WERE UNCERTAIN WHAT TO EXPECT WHEN WE ENTERED GERMANY

          One day which is clear in my mind is September 13, when
          we crossed into Germany. We hiked across an open field,
          through woods, and into a small village. We were not sure
          what to expect. As we approached the border, the civilians
          seemed hostile. To our pleasant surprise, there were white
          sheets hanging from many of the windows.
          
          As we neared the village, I recalled that I had never fired
          the gun which I got from the Belgian. Nervous anyway, I
          decided to be sure it would work. This was a silly thing to
          do, since I was not the only person who was nervous. The
          loud explosion brought the battalion commander running to
          where I was, demanding to know what had happened. When
          I told him, he simply said, "Don't do that again."
          
          Although our entry into Germany went easily, the hard part
          was yet to come. We had heard about the defense line Hitler
          had ordered built along the border. We were, however,
          uncertain what to expect when we reached what we called
          the Siegfried Line. (The Germans called it the West Wall.)
          
          Although we were not aware of it at the time, on September
          3 Hitler had recalled von Rundstedt, whom he had relieved
          at the beginning of July. Even though the German Army
          had lost hundreds of thousands of men since June 6, he
          and his commanders managed to pull together improvised
          units for a defense of the border area. Since we were very
          low on artillery ammunition, General Gerow decided to delay
          an attack on the Siegfried Line for two days. In addition, we
          were all very tired, and our equipment was suffering from
          lack of maintenance. Nevertheless, optimism prevailed, and
          we all expected soon to reach the Rhine, little suspecting
          that it would be over six months before the 4th Division
          would cross that river.
          
          The 4th Division attack on the Siegfried Line began on
          September 14 in the Schnee Eifel, a hilly wooded area with
          poor roads east of St. Vith, Belgium. Against varied
          resistance from disorganized German forces, the Division
          captured six miles of the West Wall. The price was about
          800 casualties.
          
          During this operation, an incident which made a profound
          impression concerned my new radio operator. We were using
          a German pillbox as a command post. Since the Germans
          were shelling us, the operator set up his radio just outside
          an embrasure, while he sat inside. A group of infantrymen
          were gathered outside near the radio. An artillery shell hit
          the concrete side of the pillbox near where they were
          standing and killed them all. When I heard the explosion I
          ran to where my radio operator was. He had not been
          wounded but was in shock. I got him to lie down and rest
          for awhile, assuring him he was would be all right. He made
          it clear, however, that he was unwilling to stay at the front
          any longer. After I explained the circumstances to Capt.
          Edward C. (Ed) Green, the cooperative commander of the
          29th's Headquarters Battery, he assigned another radio
          operator to me.
          
          From where we had an artillery observation post, I could see
          the Germans just across an open field. In a clump of woods,
          they were well dug in. If we fired a salvo, therefore, they
          simply got into their shelters when they heard the rounds
          coming. I tried firing random single shells, in the hope of
          unnerving them, but tired of this before they did.
          
          Again contrary to my view that my place was at battalion
          headquarters, I accompanied Joe Gude's C Company on an
          operation. As we marched across a clearing in the trees,
          artillery shells landed several hundred yards behind us.
          Assuming a German artillery observer had us under
          observation, I instinctively jumped into a nearby ditch.
          Seeing this, several infantrymen did the same. Without
          looking at me, Gude shouted, "All right, you can't hide from
          them, so keep on marching." Embarrassed, I got out of the
          ditch and rejoined Gude on the road. After advancing a
          distance without encountering small arms or further artillery
          fire, the company returned to the positions it had been
          holding.
          
          Not long after that, during an intense battle for control of a
          hill, Gude was wounded. I watched the medics trying to load
          him into an ambulance. He refused to leave until he had
          received his liquor ration.                          


          AN ILLNESS EARNS ME A BRIEF RESPITE FROM COMBAT

          Evidently I was feeling the wear and tear at this point, since
          I wrote the following letter the day after Gude was wounded. 

          Dear Folks, September 22, 1944, Somewhere in Germany
          
          The battalion commander has brought me back to our CP
          for a twenty-four hour rest, so for the first time in a week
          or more I'm having an opportunity to write to you. Believe
          me, the Jerries are making a desperate fight for their
          borders and homeland. Those of you who think this war
          nearly over may be right, but just now it's rather hard to
          convince the men about me. Love, John
          
          During my absence, Ed Cissel replaced me. Unfortunately,
          he developed pneumonia and was evacuated to the US.
          
          At higher levels, there were divided opinions about our
          prospects. The intelligence chief at Eisenhower's
          headquarters was optimistic, whereas Patton's was more
          realistic. His estimate said that "barring internal upheaval in
          the homeland and the remoter possibility of insurrection
          within the Wehrmacht, it can be expected that the German
          armies will continue to fight until destroyed or captured."
          (Forrest C. Pogue, The Supreme Command, page 245.) It
          was not German resistance, however, which stopped us so
          much as lack of supplies. Eisenhower gave priority to
          Montgomery's abortive attempt to make an end run in the
          north, MARKET-GARDEN. This operation had the aim of
          seizing a bridgehead over the Rhine. The British were also
          anxious to capture the V-bomb sites which were firing at
          London.                                                


          BEHIND US, OTHERS WERE ENGAGED IN A BITTER SIEGE OF BREST

          While most allied forces were pushing to the east, several
          American divisions were engaged in a grisly battle in
          Brittany. The initial objective was to capture Brest and other
          ports. As Channel ports were becoming available, however,
          the  Brittany ports became less important. American
          commanders decided, nevertheless, to continue the attack on
          Brest.
          
          After discussing the question with Bradley on September 9,
          Patton commented, "We both felt that the taking of Brest at
          that time was useless, because it was too far away and the
          harbor was too badly destroyed. On the other hand, we
          agreed that, when the American Army had once put its
          hand to the plow, it should not let go. Therefore, it was
          necessary to take Brest." (Patton, War as I Knew It, quoted
          in Forrest C. Pogue, The Supreme Command, page 259.)
          
          The alternative would have been to contain Brest until the
          end of the war, as was done with Lorient and St. Nazaire.
          These had substantial garrisons, but they were smaller than
          Brest's. Bradley maintained that containment of Brest would
          have required "more troops than we could spare on an
          inactive front."
          
          NOTE: The 2nd, 8th, and 29th Divisions had nearly 10,000
          casualties during the siege of Brest and took about 30,000
          prisoners.                                               