


          * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
          *                                                         *
          *     ALLIED FORCES CONTINUE TO ATTACK ON BROAD FRONT     *
          *                                                         *
          * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

          With the seizure of the bridge at Remagen and
          establishment of a bridgehead, we could see the end of the
          war approaching. Nevertheless, considerable fighting lay
          ahead. Despite riots in German cities and opposition feelers
          regarding peace, Hitler continued to have the loyalty of most
          German generals. With seven million men still under arms,
          he was not about to give up. When von Rundstedt advised
          him to end the war, Hitler fired him and brought Kesselring
          from Italy as his replacement.
          
          Despite lingering British misgivings, Eisenhower's broad front
          strategy continued to prevail. While Montgomery prepared for
          a major offensive in the north (PLUNDER), Bradley launched
          attacks to clean up German forces to the west of the Rhine.
          Furthermore, Eisenhower decided that, even though the
          Russians had paused at the Oder, he would not concentrate
          on taking Berlin. This decision came back to haunt
          Eisenhower later when the Grand Alliance collapsed into the
          Cold War. Historians are still quarreling over whether he did
          the right thing.
          
          To Eisenhower's relief, Churchill formally abandoned any
          idea of making Field Marshall Alexander a deputy to
          Eisenhower, rather than Air Chief Marshall Tedder.
          
          The stress of such quarrels and defeating the German
          offensive in the Ardennes left Eisenhower exhausted. His
          Chief of Staff, Lt. Gen. Walter Bedell Smith, persuaded him
          to take a holiday in Cannes. This provided an opportunity
          for leisurely talks with his generals and composing his
          differences with Bradley. Congressional approval of Bradley's
          fourth star helped. Furthermore, Eisenhower promised to
          return the 9th Army, which was then under Montgomery, to
          Bradley after all allied forces were across the Rhine.
          
          In the meantime, there was growing concern at SHAEF that
          Hitler was planning to continue the war from redoubts in
          Norway and the Alps. Plans were prepared for the invasion
          of Norway, which contemplated using Sweden as a base
          after the liberation of Denmark. The concern about a
          redoubt in the Alps gave an additional incentive to getting
          allied divisions across the Rhine on a broad front, to destroy
          German forces before they could move southward.
          
          Before this would be possible, however, it was necessary to
          capture the Saar. While the 4th Division infantry regiments
          were taking a well earned rest near Luneville, not far from
          Strasbourg, the 4th Division Artillery supported the 63rd
          Infantry Division in its attack just east of Saarbruecken. All
          I recall from this episode was standing on a hill and
          admiring the huge screen the artillery had created with
          smoke shells. During this period, there was time for letter
          writing. (In the early 1950s, I found myself the Saar desk
          officer in the State Department, responsible for foiling the ill
          advised efforts of the French to get the Saar away from
          Germany.)                                             


          WRITING ABOUT MY FAVORITE SUBJECT, MY FUTURE

          Dear Folks, March 16, 1945, Germany
          
          Boy, am I hurtin'. I've got plenty of nuttin. Had a box in
          which I carried tooth paste, shaving cream, etc. It was lost
          in a recent move. Now I'm without. My most urgent need is
          for stationery, shaving cream, chewing gum, food of any
          kind. I'm hoping that in the meantime a box will come in to
          stave off hardship.
          
          The mail has been very slow lately. One day soon it should
          catch up with us and a number of them should fall my way.
          In the meantime, I'm starting over on my correspondence.
          
          Writing is one of my best means of relaxation now. Wish I
          had a dollar for every word I've written in the past year.
          However, there is little to do other than read or write. Very
          little indeed.
          
          Sometimes I feel that I am wasting many valuable hours
          that will never be recovered. And there are many moments
          when I just sit and do nothing. But, our attention is
          demanded on a second's notice so often that it is impossible
          to concentrate on anything. Often I try to write or read and
          find that it makes me tense and uncomfortable. Such being
          the case, study is impossible.
          
          Thus I hope there is something enriching about this war
          that is unseen. For if there isn't, my time is wasted other
          than the little I might contribute toward winning. But
          perhaps the fates are not asking too much of me to demand
          a few years out of my existence. And certainly one cannot
          complain if this sacrifice is rewarded in being allowed to
          take advantage of a more profitable life in the future.
          
          My love, John
          
          Dear Folks, March 20, 1945, France
          
          A recent Stars and Stripes has an article about the 4th
          completing its 199th day of continuous contact with the
          enemy. That aught to establish some sort of record. It
          started with the 24th of August, 1944, the day before we
          entered Paris. It ended at Adenau, Germany, after a drive
          through the Siegfried Line, across the Prum and Kyll Rivers,
          and after Jerry until the German line there had completely
          collapsed.
          
          My travelogue has been broadened now to include new areas
          of France. Have seen Metz, Sarreguemines, Saarlautern and
          other cities. Each section of France in its own way has its
          particular beauty. Dad should know the territory I mention
          there, having been from Colmar to Luxembourg in 1918.
          
          He probably has noted also how close our drive through the
          Siegfried Line carried us to his path into Germany. Had we
          made the Remagen crossing, it would have been complete.
          
          Love, John
          
          Dear Dad, March 22, 1945, France
          
          You mention that I aught to record on paper many of the
          things that happen here. There are definite orders against
          keeping diaries in the ETO. Censorship rules are overly
          strict perhaps, but they are strict. Thus, there is no
          opportunity to write all that happens in letters. Hence, I
          shall have to trust to memory.
          
          This is not so bad, since I still remember many of the
          details of what has happened in the last year. Some of the
          less important things are forgotten, but that is of small
          import.
          
          Then, I am not sure that one should try to remember all
          this, nor that I want to. Perhaps one could better devote
          himself thoroughly to the future, which would give little time
          for glances over the shoulder. At least now, my plans for the
          future seem so full as to allow not even time for their
          realization.
          
          Much of what I have thought has been recorded in letters,
          if the recipients bothered to keep them. But, then, maybe
          my thoughts produce no great interest either.
          
          Well, we've reached the Rhine all along the western front, as
          you requested. What do you plan to do now?
          
          My best, John
          
          Dear Dad, March 23, 1945, France
          
          Your letter of March 10 and mother's of the 11th arrived
          today. Changed on the inside? Yes, perhaps I have. Actually,
          the only real recollections I have of my prewar self was a
          proud, perhaps over-egoistic, youth. While I've never really
          been displeased with myself, surely I feel the past years
          have all brought their improvements and that the future will
          bring more.
          
          More than anything else I want to be a realistic, sympathetic
          individual, working energetically at whatever I do - hoping
          that at least part of it will benefit our society. If the mind
          and body can be properly trained, much can be done.
          
          There is little doubt in my mind that any real agreement
          with the deity will have to come later. With a fairly adequate
          training in youth behind me, any spiritual inclinations have
          almost died in these past years. A renewal of this is always
          on my mind.
          
          Will the Germans fight energetically to resist us the east
          side of the Rhine? Upon this depends whether the war will
          last a month after we push, or through the summer. The
          answer is not available now and won't be until we push.
          Each step we take could be the last.
          
          But we are becoming angry. Perhaps the German should
          fight for his country. We would. But I hate to see all these
          men go down unnecessarily. It is such a pity.
          
          But we must be patient.
          
          Love, John
          
          I should underline my reference to our becoming angry. This
          was to influence our behavior once we crossed the Rhine. To
          put it bluntly, it took only minor resistance from a village
          for us to dump a great deal of artillery into it before the
          infantry attacked.                                    


          MY FATHER GETS AN OFFER THAT HE COULD REFUSE

          In the latter half of March I received a letter from my father,
          dated March 2, 1945. Unfortunately, it is the only letter of
          his or my mother's that I still have. I destroyed all the
          letters I received, having no convenient way of keeping them.
          The only reason I have this one is that I had run out of
          paper to write on and wrote a letter on the back. My
          father's letter was very long, so I will give here only
          excerpts.
          
          Dear John, March 2, 1945, Aurora, Illinois
          
          And today is officially my last day in the army; the end of
          my terminal leave; and tomorrow I am a civilian. Of course,
          I am still in the reserve, but that's a technicality.
          
          The boys have reached the Rhine. When they have got there
          all the way from the British front to Cologne, which is only
          a few days away, and start shelling the Ruhr, then I think
          the Germans will quit. It has been my thought all along that
          all this monkey business down near the Swiss border and
          in Italy has had no bearing on the war, but it's end will be
          when we have the 80 percent of war manufactures in the
          Ruhr or make it impossible for them to work there. I am not
          sure that any American will need to cross the Rhine. I
          would be very surprised if even Hitler will need to be chased
          all the way across Germany to give up. But time will tell.
          
          Last Monday I gave my China talk to the Lions Club here.
          That afternoon a man phoned me and said he would like to
          talk to me. I invited him to the house that evening. He was
          Martin R. O'Brien, owner and operator of Radio Station
          WMRO (the MRO part is Martin R. O'Brien) and a marine in
          the last war. He said that while he had not heard my
          speech the business men who had had come right over to
          see him and said I should be the next mayor. Mr. O'Brien
          said that he knew of me, had read "The Last Kilometer" in
          1937, as every good marine did. With my war record, my
          peace record, my eight campaign ribbons, my oratory, and
          what not added to all the plugs necessary on the radio
          station and the support of the Beacon, the only paper in
          town, assured me of the election. If I would run, he would
          guarantee that I would win. Also he had talked to a
          Burlington officer who said that, while no names were
          mentioned, the Burlington would certainly give a leave of
          absence to any employee that would be mayor of Aurora.
          
          I thanked Mr. O'Brien and said I would think about it. That
          was Monday. So on Thursday I went to see him. He gave me
          an hours sales talk again and said he was even more sure
          of it. I just as politely and firmly said I would not run,
          principally because I had other plans for the next four
          years. If I was elected mayor of Aurora for four years I
          would feel duty bound to finish the term, which I would not
          want to do. That I had just the job I wanted, and one that
          I could leave at any minute if I chose.
          
          Up until three years ago I was anxious to get as much
          training and experience as I could. When I got to China I
          learned that I had had plenty. Now I shall train no more. I
          shall make use of my training or else.
          
          But just the same, keep up on your oratory. It's important.
          And take care of yourself.
          
          As ever, Dad
          
          In my return letter, I congratulated my father on getting
          such a nice offer and the wisdom to turn it down. Had I
          known one of the reasons for his rejecting this offer, I would
          not have been so sanguine. This was my mother's illness,
          which was more serious than either of them had admitted
          to me.                                                


          AN EFFORT TO ARRANGE A DANCE FOR THE TROOPS

          Dear Folks, March 28, 1945, Germany
          
          Had a pleasant evening not too long ago. Two other officers
          and I took three very lovely nurses to Strasbourg for the
          evening. We went to the Foyer des Combattant (French
          club).
          
          We had an excellent meal in the dining room (red wine, etc.
          and ice cream for dessert). They closed the bar at ten, but
          we hadn't planned a late evening, since we had to get up
          early in the morning.
          
          Love, John
          
          My brief account of our evening in Strasbourg did not tell
          the whole story. After it had carried out its mission of
          providing fire support for the attack on the Saar, the 29th
          Field Artillery went into a bivouac. One day, Tommy said to
          me, "John, it has been a long time since the enlisted men
          have had any fun. Why don't you scout around and see if
          you can arrange a dance for them."
          
          Never one to resist a challenge, I got into a jeep and headed
          toward Strasbourg. Since my French was weak, I took along
          an interpreter. After arriving in Strasbourg, we found our
          way to the Foyer des Combattant or French officer's club.
          Wanting to practice my French, I explained my mission to
          the receptionist, adding, "J'ai besoin de quatre vingt filles."
          (I need eighty girls.) She looked shocked. My interpreter
          intervened. He explained to me later that what I had asked
          for was eighty prostitutes. Instead of "filles" I should have
          said "jeune filles." Even when we got this misunderstanding
          straightened out, the woman told me politely that she could
          not help me. She suggested that I try one of the smaller
          towns.
          
          Not wanting to give up too easily, we drove to a town near
          our bivouac area and called on the mayor. He was a very
          pale man, who did not seem to be enjoying life. He listened
          politely to my request and then said, "You see, the war has
          been very hard on the people here. They are not in the
          mood for a party."
          
          My final effort was at an American hospital. There I found
          a few nurses interested in having fun but far from enough
          to take care of the battalion. When I reported back to
          Tommy, he said, "Never mind. We will not have time anyway
          for a battalion party, since we are going to cross the Rhine
          soon." He agreed, however, that there was no reason to let
          my effort be entirely wasted. Hence the evening in
          Strasbourg.
          
          Shortly before this, the 4th was moved from the Third to the
          Seventh Army. After trekking north into the Saar, we
          crossed the Rhine near Worms on March 29. As we drove
          across the bridge, I wondered what lay ahead of us, other
          than fighting. I would learn all too soon that there was
          something even worse.                                  