


          * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
          *                                                       *
          *      THE 4TH IS SENT TO LUXEMBOURG FOR A REST         *
          *                                                       *
          * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

          Exhausted, the 4th Division moved by motor from the
          Huertgen Forest to Luxembourg in early December. On the
          way, we drove through Houffalize and Bastogne. During our
          drive into Germany in September, these picturesque Belgian
          towns had escaped the horrors and destruction of war. It
          never occurred to us that war would soon visit these towns
          and Bastogne would become the site of a historic struggle.
          
          After arriving in Luxembourg, the 4th had the task of
          defending an extensive (thirty-five mile) front along its
          eastern border, which is formed by the Moselle and Suere
          (Sauer) Rivers. The 8th Regiment was in the center, with the
          12th on its left and the 22nd on its right. Oblivious to what
          lay ahead, we happily settled into our new home.
          
          Dear Folks, December 10, 1944, Luxembourg
          
          Boy, you should see me now. I'm living, for the time being
          at least, a life of Riley. Right now I'm seated at a desk in a
          bedroom. The room is lighted with real electricity. Before me
          is a radio, playing Strauss waltzes. On my right is a glass
          of Luxembourg's finest wine. (Oops, I spoke too soon. The
          electricity just went out and I had to get a flashlight. There,
          it just went on again.) Last night I had a hot bath in a tub.
          Our toilets flush. The house is heated with steam heat.
          
          Our table is set with the finest China and silver. Tablecloths
          add to the charm of the situation. B rations, the best the
          army can offer in wartime, are served.
          
          As one of the company commanders said, "This is what we
          were fighting for."
          
          To be sure, the war continues, but for a time, as any
          human must, we get a respite. An hour could change all
          this, but I hope it continues quiet like this for a short bit at
          least.
          
          Love, John
          
          It was indeed short, about a week. On December 16, Hitler
          launched his winter offensive. He called it Wacht am Rhein.
          It has also been called the Ardennes or Winter Offensive but
          is best known as the Battle of the Bulge.
          
          When allied forces entered Germany in September, many
          people assumed the war was all but won. Eisenhower was
          sufficiently confident that he bet Montgomery five pounds
          the war would be over by Christmas. He failed, however, to
          reckon with Hitler's fanaticism, the perverse willingness of
          German generals to carry out his orders, and the
          unquestioning fighting ability of the German soldier.
          
          Pressed on both sides, Hitler decided on a desperate throw
          of the dice. About the time we were entering Germany in
          September, he was ordering his commanders to ready a
          counter-offensive in the Ardennes. The ambitious objectives
          would be to capture Antwerp and cut the allied forces in
          two. To direct this daring maneuver, he called back von
          Rundstedt. Although he had little confidence of success, von
          Rundstedt used minimal forces to fight allied forces to a
          standstill, while preparing his best divisions for an attack.
          
          The choice of the Ardennes was no accident. Not only were
          they the scene of German success in 1940, but they also
          provided the weakest point in the allied defenses. In order
          to mass forces to the north and south for offensives, Bradley
          had stretched four divisions over a dangerously long front.
          In the center were the US 28th and 106th Divisions. The
          28th was exhausted after its spell in the Huertgen Forest,
          and those poor devils in the 106th had yet to see combat.
          This precarious situation was made worse by the
          unjustifiable optimism which permeated allied forces, from
          top to bottom. As a result, these divisions failed to take the
          most rudimentary precautions dictated by a defensive
          posture. For example, bridges were not prepared for
          destruction.
          
          The 106th occupied an area originally taken by the 4th
          Division in September. At that time, we assumed we would
          be advancing. Hence our artillery batteries were close to the
          front. When we retook this area in February, we found the
          106th Division artillery had occupied our positions, rather
          than deploying further to the rear. Hence, the German forces
          overran the artillery batteries soon after attacking.
          
          Although ambiguous, there had been warning signs. Not
          long after we moved into our positions in Luxembourg, Lt.
          Col. Letzelter went to a meeting. On his return, he told us
          the Germans were massing forces to the northeast.
          Intelligence was, however, not entirely clear as to what they
          were, let alone what they would be used for. On December
          16, von Rundstedt took advantage of a projected spell of
          poor weather to launch his attack, ironically on the heels of
          Eisenhower getting his fifth star. The general course of this
          daring venture is too well known to require discussion in
          detail here. Although caught off guard, Eisenhower
          responded promptly by calling off the new First and Third
          Army offensives. He also deployed the 101st Airborne
          Division to Bastogne to hold it until Patton's armored forces
          could come to their rescue. These actions did not, however,
          prevent the 28th and 106th Divisions from a mauling. The
          106th suffered the humiliation of seeing large parts of two
          of its regiments forced to surrender when they were
          surrounded and ran out of ammunition. Reading Hugh M.
          Cole's dramatic and detailed account of this in The
          Ardennes: Battle of the Bulge is a heartbreaking experience.
          
          The 4th Division caught the left flank of the German attack.
          With its position on the Suere River, the 12th Regiment, as
          at Mortain, took the brunt. Gerden F. Johnson's History of
          the 12th Infantry Regiment in World War II has a stirring
          account of the courageous defense of key road junctions by
          small units. Had they been less determined, the Germans
          might have captured Luxembourg City.
          
          Although the 29th Field Artillery was busy supporting the
          12th, the First Infantry Battalion was not directly affected.
          Thus, where I was it was quiet, which my letters home
          demonstrate.                                        


          SOMETIMES IT PAYS TO VISIT THE FRONT LINE TROOPS

          Dear Folks, December 20, 1944, Luxembourg
          
          One day, not too many ago, I saw what I consider the acme
          of luxury. It had all the aspects of the newspaper stories,
          with one item added.
          
          An infantry officer and I went to one of the rifle companies
          to look over its lines. Most of the positions were the
          conventional slit trenches and foxholes. However, one
          platoon had a setup that beats them all.
          
          We found them in the cellar of a building, filled with row on
          row of champagne racks of the choicest champagne.
          
          At one end of the room was a table, with linen table cloth,
          the finest silver and china, the best in cutlery, and complete
          with flickering candles. Just finished was a dinner of fresh
          vegetables and chicken. Empty champagne bottles lined one
          end of the table. It was evident that the men had just
          finished a sumptuous feast.
          
          Still, even this happens occasionally. The one item that was
          unique was this. Next to the table was a rack of
          champagne. When the bottles are set in the rack, the cup
          formed by the bottom was up. And the men had been using
          the bottoms of full champagne bottles for ash trays.
          Unquestionably, that is the height of luxury.
          
          Have mother's letter from Rochester, dated December 10.
          Glad to start getting letters from her again, as I missed her
          usual cheery correspondence, although dad and Margaret
          did a good job of substituting.
          
          It pleases me exceedingly to know that mother and dad will
          be together this Christmas. It doesn't matter so much where
          we children spend it, since it is inevitable that children go
          away and leave the folks sooner or later. But it is not right
          for the parents to be separated during this season. Hope
          you all had an exceedingly pleasant Yuletide.
          
          Mother, don't fret about that bank statement. It's just that
          I get curious every once in awhile as to how many million
          I have. By the by, I believe I asked you to buy a thousand
          dollar bond whenever $750 turned up, with a few hundred
          left over. Have you been doing this? Take care of yourselves.
          
          Love, John
          
          A side benefit of the visit to the wine cellar was that every
          man in the 29th had a bottle of champagne for Christmas.
          
          On December 23, the skies cleared for the first time since
          the German offensive began, and the air forces were finally
          able to give the hard pressed ground forces badly needed
          help. (US Air Force planes by mistake struck Malmedy
          several days running, killing many civilians and soldiers.)


          TRYING TO BRIGHTEN AN OTHERWISE GLOOMY CHRISTMAS

          Dear Folks, December 25, 1944, Luxembourg
          
          It is the evening of Christmas day. Things have pretty well
          quieted down. The war continues, but we managed to
          squeeze in a little bit of holiday season. And, by all means,
          the day for those about me was far from unpleasant.
          Certainly, it was better than for some of our less fortunate
          comrades. To be sure, we all had hopes the war might end
          before the year's end, but there is nothing in the overall
          military situation to necessitate that. Thus, the fighting will
          probably go on into the new year, and we shall try to let it
          take up as little of that period as possible.
          
          Christmas dinner was the high spot of our day, naturally.
          We had turkey, champagne, and all the trimmings. A
          number of the senior officers and staffs came around to pay
          their respects, and all were in high spirits. If the Jerries
          expected to panic anyone with their current offensive, it
          wasn't evident here.
          
          Guess I better tell you that I've changed jobs. One of our
          officers who had been wounded D-day came back. One of
          the officers in the S-3 section got ill. So I'm now in the Fire
          Direction Center, where the fire of our battalion is
          controlled. Truthfully, it is the work in artillery I've always
          wanted to get into. However, never before has it worked that
          way.
          
          I've consistently kept up with the latest fire direction
          methods and maintained an interest in the work. However,
          in combat, I've hesitated to say anything to the colonel for
          fear he'd think I didn't like my liaison work or thought it a
          bit too risky. But now I'm at it, and we'll see what happens.
          Perhaps it won't last too long, maybe it will. Just now, it's
          a change, and I shall not complain.
          
          Love, John
          
          Dear Folks, December 29, 1944, Luxembourg
          
          In just a few days, this American shall have been overseas
          one year. The Elizabeth left New York harbor on January 2,
          1944, with me on board. One among a passenger list of
          thousands. To be sure, compared with many, I'm practically
          a newcomer. But this has been a long, full year. Probably
          never again will I see a year full of so many experiences; I
          hope one will never bring so many heartaches.
          
          As the new year approaches, quite naturally we wonder what
          it will bring. Perhaps it is just as well we don't know.
          Certainly, we can hope for it to be a year which will bring
          a new peace to our civilization, the start of an era of
          reconstruction, rehabilitation, progress, and reasonable
          prosperity. But we must wait and see what we deserve and
          gain.
          
          Slowly I am becoming adjusted to new surroundings, a new
          job. I am trying very hard to bring to it the advantage of
          valuable experience, gained while with the infantry.
          
          You see, the use to which artillery is put depends primarily
          on the artillery observer and liaison officer. The latter
          advises the infantry commander, and an infantry battalion's
          utilization of artillery support is only as good as his advice.
          On the other hand, the speed with which artillery is brought
          to bear and the accuracy with which it is fired depends
          partially on the fire direction center. But there are many
          times when this depends on the knowledge the S-3 has of
          the liaison work and infantry tactics.
          
          On the other hand, one must be careful not to change or
          try to change many things at once. It must be a gradual
          process of innovation and modification. If I can succeed, I
          believe our work will benefit. Anyway, it's fun trying.
          Meanwhile, the change is refreshing.
          
          All goes well. Health is good. Food is plentiful. Sleep is
          adequate. If we could just get the war over, we'd all be
          happy.
          
          Love, John
          
          This change of jobs was the result of Capt. Albert B. Head
          returning to the 29th. He was wounded shortly after the
          landing but had longed to get back to the battalion.
          Although suffering from a serious shoulder wound, he had
          plied a doctor with enough whisky to get him to sign an
          authorization to return to duty. Tommy decided to assign
          him to the First Battalion as liaison officer and move me
          back to the fire control center, the job Ed Cissel had before
          becoming ill. Although I welcomed this change, it did not
          last long. The pain in his shoulder proved too much, and Al
          had to be evacuated again. Thus, I soon found myself again
          back with the infantry.                                  


          ONCE AGAIN I DO SOMETHING WHICH I SHOULD NOT HAVE DONE

          Although not exposed to enemy fire (other than artillery) in
          Luxembourg, I did not manage to get out of there without
          doing something foolish. On one of those sunny days which
          our air forces were using to attack the Germans, I decided
          to visit a forward observer, who was up front with an
          infantry company. I made my way by jeep to a clump of
          woods overlooking the Suere River valley. On the other side
          of the river, I could see German pillboxes but no signs of
          life.
          
          Not sure where the infantry company was, I asked one of
          our men whom I happened upon. He pointed to a red wire
          and said, "Just follow that. It will take you to the company
          command post." Hidden from the Germans by tall bushes,
          I began to follow the wire. Before long, I found myself
          moving through the bushes and down the hill toward the
          river. After going about a hundred yards, a warning bell
          sounded within me, and I ducked behind a tree.
          
          After a little thought, I realized what was wrong. There were
          two red wires, and the one I was following would have been
          laid at night by an infantry patrol. What was I to do? I
          could imagine Germans watching me through their field
          glasses, wondering what I was up to. I could also picture
          their discussing whether to shoot me if I emerged from
          behind the tree.
          
          While the sun was warm, the air was cold, and the tree put
          me in the shade. Should I stay there and risk frostbite, or
          should I take my chances and make a dash for the top of
          the hill? Dash is scarcely the right word, since the snow
          was a foot deep.
          
          As I gradually began to chill, I decided to make a run for it
          and hope the Germans would not want to give their
          positions away by shooting at me. Fortunately, there were a
          few bushes along the way, which I could duck behind to
          catch my breath. After what seemed like an eternity, I
          reached the security of the bushes at the top of the hill.
          Very upset and feeling foolish, my first thought was to give
          the soldier who advised me to follow the red wire hell. My
          second thought, however, was that I should have asked him
          to go with me as a guide. Shaken by the experience, I
          decided it best to abandon my visit to the forward observer. 