23 November 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Germany

23 November, 1944       1330

My dearest fiancée –

First of all, dear, a very Happy Birthday to you. Would that I could be with you now to look at you, hold you in my arms, kiss you and tell you I love you. We’re being cheated of so much, darling, it is maddening! I know you so well, I’m engaged to you, I love you so – and I haven’t helped you celebrate one of your birthdays yet – nor you – mine.

Missing a Holiday was always a tough thing, but missing you at a time when we should be celebrating – doesn’t seem fair at all. But this is Thanksgiving – and I’m thankful for all I do have. I guess that’s the best way to look at it, darling. We should be thankful that we have each other, no matter how far removed we are; thankful we are alive so that we can experience the poignancy of our emotion – which must of necessity be experienced at a distance. I’m thankful for you, Sweetheart, and for the fate that brought us together. And I’m thankful I’m in this war – alive and well.

This Thanksgiving will be a better one for us than was last year’s, despite the fact that we’re in enemy territory. Last Thanksgiving was the most miserable one I’ve ever experienced. I believe I told you we were on a train coming down from Scotland. We had K rations only; it was foggy, damp and cold. Everything was strange and lonesome – and believe me, dear, our morale was at a pretty low ebb. It’s not too bad today – considering everything. We’re having a Turkey dinner tonight at 1700; everyone who has any wine left at all is bringing it out and we’ll try to call it a celebration. The war is going on all about us here – as you probably know from the papers and the radio – but it’s funny how we’ve learned to forget about war when we want to, and project ourselves back to an old American custom. We’ve been reminiscing all day about last year – and the good old times before that. We’ll go right on doing that for the rest of the day – and tomorrow? Tomorrow will be just another day in the life of a soldier. We’ll be real again.

The weather here has continued to be abominable and it just doesn’t seem possible that it can be so constantly cloudy and wet. Right now outside my window – it’s coming down in buckets. I think we’re getting used to it though, for we rarely look up now to see if the clouds are breaking up or not.

There was a rumor that there was going to be some mail in tonight. I guess that will be about the best part of the Holiday for us – because we haven’t received mail for 4 days now and we miss it. The last mail I received contained no letter from you, dear. There was one from Charlie Wright – who is still at Fort Dix, New Jersey; and a letter from Mrs. Kerr – the elder – in Salem.

Before I close, Sweetheart, let me wish you the happiest of years, good health and good waiting. Do not forget for one single second, darling, that you have a fiancé who loves you as he has never loved anyone, who loves you and thinks of you constantly. I always shall, dear, and my greatest enjoyment in life will be to show you that love and make you love me even more than you do now. Love to the folks, dearest, so long for a while and

All my everlasting love,

Greg

P.S. Now that you’re 21 and a Major – I suppose we can really discuss intimate things from now on huh?

L.

Greg

P.P.S. OK, OK – that will be the last crack about your age!

L.

G.

* TIDBIT *

about Churchill's "America's Thanksgiving" Speech

22 November 1944

V-MAIL

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Germany

22 November, 1944      1100

Hello Sweetheart –

Well I’m back again and ready for some more work. What with 2 letters to you – not Air Mail in the last 2 days and the V-mail, you’ll be short of mail for a short period, dear, but I’ll get going again tomorrow. In case you don’t know what I’m talking about – I’ve just returned from a 3-day pass in Belgium. It came as a surprise – and when the opportunity presented itself – I took it. It was a good change and I really relaxed – away from noise, etc.

Now I’m back and the work is really piled up for me. Therefore this short note, sweetheart, before I get started, because once I do – I’ll be busy all day. This may get out today. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and your Birthday, darling – and I’ll be missing you more than I can tell you. I love you dear and sure would like to be with you tomorrow – but enough of that –– for now. Will write more tomorrow

All my love

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about PFC Bernard F. Hillenbrand

The following story was excerpted from an entry called "My Last Day in Combat" in a former blog called "The Hillenbrand Report," which had been written and maintained by Bernie Hillenbrand, a Purple Heart combat infantry veteran who fought in the Battle of Aachen before entering the conflict in the Huertgen Forest.

My first day in infantry combat was off Omaha Beach, France well after D-Day. As an infantry replacement I was disembarking from the Belgian troopship Leopoldville. As I descended the rope ladder to our Landing Craft Infantry (LCI), my feet were inches above a Second Lieutenant. With no warning, a huge wave hit the landing craft and smashed it against the side of the ship crushing the officer to instant death. I was covered with his blood as in a desperate move I leaped into the LCI.

In my last battle I was an Infantry Rifleman and scout. My G Company of the 18th Regiment First Infantry Divison was advancing in the Huertgen Forest near the village of Eisweiler, Germany. It was November 22, 1944. There was about three inches of snow. My major job as a scout in an attack was to lead the squad and, frankly, to draw enemy fire to assess German defenses. At times my job also was to maintain contact with American units to the right and left to be sure that we did not tangle and fire on each other.

German Infantry Gun in Huertgen Forest
22 November 1944

The forest was still dense but under almost constant artillery fire from both sides. The German units had time to dig deep defenses as this area was part of the support system of the famed Siegfried Line. This was the great barrier designed to protect the German home front. The Germans were falling back upon their supply lines and we were moving farther away from ours. This put new strains upon our supplies of fuel and ammunition and all the necessities of war. Our morale was high. We were winning. German morale was low. They were now fighting for their survival.

My immediate concerns were to be an effective scout for my comrades to keep from getting killed. On that day we started at first light and were under constant artillery and motor fire. The greatest terror however was the presence of land mines, both the large ones designed to blow up tanks and the smaller ones designed to inflict terrible wounds. The favorite of the Germans was the “Jumping Mine”, made of wood and designed to leap a few feet into the air before it exploded. They inflicted wood fragments that were difficult to detect on X-rays and caused losses of arms and legs. Our greatest fear was the loss of manhood.

Profound fear was constant. Strangely enough the great antidote for fear for me was my sense of duty to be a good soldier and proud member of my Division. My life depended on my comrades and their lives depended upon me. This bond helps you keep your sanity. Another great factor for survival in infantry combat is profound fatigue. It becomes almost like a drug, deadening your senses to the extent that you can do terrible things with ease; things that would be impossible were you rested. “Kill or Be Killed” was posted everywhere in training camps but was not needed on the battle field.

We moved through the forest parallel to a narrow dirt road. We drew machine gun and mortar fire most of the day, losing many men. We also eliminated several fortified places took some prisoners and inflicted casualties. We suffered enormous casualties most of whom were brand new replacements. It seemed to me that this day would never end. Dark comes as a blessing to all infantry men. The forward motion comes to a halt. It is now time to dig a fox hole and cover it with wooded branches to afford some protection from the constant shelling.

Certain men become vital to your survival. They seem to know more about war than do you. They are leaders who you know have your best interest at heart. In war your salvation depends on obedience to orders. However, you have far more respect to a command when you admire the man who is giving it. My hero was Staff Sergeant Bodner. He was very private and I don’t even know his first name. We had come to the end of the winding forest road where it entered into a large open space. There was a bank about 12 feet high on one side of the road. Bodner asked me to help him lay two large anti-tank mines at the head of the road. The earth was frozen solid so we lay the mines on the surface and covered them with snow so that they would not be visible to approaching Panzers. The two of us then climbed to the top of the bank and together dug a shallow fox hole. Somehow we dug through the frozen ground and the roots of a tree. It was a terrible night. The artillery increased in intensity and the trees were cut down like wheat in the field. Our hole was down maybe three feet and we had a couple of limbs over the top.

The war finally caught up with Sergeant Bodner. At the height of one barrage he said he was going to cross over the road to the basement of a burned out barn. He was determined. I got on top of him and held him in our position until dawn. It was a struggle and Bodner started to break up. Somehow I kept him down but just at day light he won. He broke loose and jumped out and ran towards the barn. I opened a can of C ration and took one bite when I went black. I was unconscious. When I came to I was outside the fox hole and could see that it appeared to be a mortar hit. My first view was my left hand. It was swollen and looked more like a piece of meat than a hand. The snow was bright red and I realized that I had lost a lot of blood. I felt blood flowing from my shoulder and down my back.

It was obvious that the Germans had spotted our position and I had better move. I crawled back from the edge. There were more mortar rounds and continuous shelling. As I started back to the command post a replacement Lieutenant who I did not recognize took one look at me and asked it I could make it unaided to the aid station which he said had been established up the dirt road in the basement bottom of a burned out farm building. I told him I could. I started to move through the snow toward the road when another barrage started. There was a slight depression in the snow and I dove for it. Our runner Harry Kolasa stumbled in on top of me. At that instance a huge shell hit the tree above and huge pieces of steel hit Harry in the back and killed him instantly. I was covered with his blood and mine.

I next staggered to the road and followed in an old tank track, careful not to get out of the rut and hit a land mine. I had a separate fear that I might pass out in the snow and freeze to death. I managed to reach the aid station with great relief that once there my chances of survival were excellent. In the next 18 months I served temporary limited service in France and Germany to relieve our crowded hospitals. At the war's end I returned to surgeries and rehabilitation in Germany, Belgium, England and France and three American hospitals. My left hand was partially restored as were my other wounds. I was discharged June 14, 1946 after slightly over three years service.

Bernie Hillenbrand passed away Oct. 5, 2018 at age 93.

21 November 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Germany

21 November, 1944        1030

Good Morning, darling –

Well. I’m still on that 3-day pass – but this is the 3rd and final day. Of course – we still have the whole day ahead of us and we don’t go back until 0900 tomorrow.

It hasn’t been an hilarious time and yet – it has turned out much better than I expected and I’m glad cause it’s been a long time more than several hours in a row – and it’s an enjoyable sensation. The bunch of fellows from other outfits who happen to be here at the same time as we – turned out to be a very nice gang. There are Artillery, Engineer, Infantry, Armored Division etc. officers here – and you might think there’d be a lot of talk about recent events, personal accounts of action – and the like; but there hasn’t been. Everyone here seems intent on just relaxing, sleeping, eating – and I suppose I must confess, darling – drinking, too. The drinking situation is and isn’t like that in London when we had time off. It’s like it in that when you buy a drink, they charge you all sorts of prices, a bottle of cognac costs roughly $12.00, and when you buy one you find it has been diluted; the situation differs in that the Army has provided several opportunities for officers in combat in the forward areas to order liquor from time to time – and most of us brought some along. I brought some cognac and Scotch. We have one large lounge or living room – this is an apartment type hotel – and several of us sit around, drink, sing and reminisce about the good old days in the States. That by the way, Sweetheart, is the chief subject always – wherever soldiers are.

For one reason, I’m anxious to get back to duty – and that is to see if there’s any mail, dear. It seems as if I’m completely out of touch with you when a couple of days go by and I don’t read one of you letters telling me about what you’re doing etc. There are a lot of little things – but all together, dear, they make me visualize you, your surrounding and your activities – and that’s what I’m living on, sweetheart, that and the thought that someday our activities will be mutual – and that we’ll be able to tell each other our thoughts rather than write them. I love you, darling, and the one thing I want to do is get home and marry you and live with you. The wonderfulness of that thought is almost difficult to imagine – but wonderful – it will be I’m sure –

Darling – the boys are ready to leave and walk downtown – so I’ll stop now. I’ll write tomorrow from battalion. So long for awhile, then – and love to the folks.

All my sincerest love, dear –

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about a Veteran's Tale of the Huertgen Forest

Alexander "Sparky" Kisse served with the 28th "Bloody Bucket" Division in Europe through December of 1944. He was a replacement when he joined the 112th Regiment, Company F in September of 1944. He served in the Huertgen Forest during the early days of November, 1944. The following two videos are interviews with Sparky, made possible by his son, William Kisse, who posted them on YouTube and wrote, "This is my tribute to my Dad's service, patriotism and sacrifice - and ALL who served with honor, and is an inspiration to us all."

The first is more than 40 minutes and the second over an hour - and they are worth every minute of listening.

20 November 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Germany

20 November, 1944       1315

My dearest sweetheart –

In the first place, I did not get a chance to write you yesterday and in the second place – it was Sunday and the stores were closed. But let me start at the beginning, dear.

For no reason at all – our Corps started giving 3 day passes to a city in Belgium. I’ve been there on business – before. Two passes were available for officers in our battalion – so the Colonel sent Lt. Bowman – our adjutant – and me. That was nice of him, considering it was not solicited. So without further ado, I packed my musette bag and away we went. The Army makes all arrangements and we were given a hotel room – fair – gratis; there is also an officers’ mess in town and a bar. That was yesterday. I didn’t bring stationery because I felt certain there would be some here; but I was wrong – and so I couldn’t write; Today I bought this – but I’m sending it ‘Free’ because no stamp service is available. We’ll be here until Wednesday a.m. and then a truck will pick us up; not bad for the middle of a war. Incidentally – all this happened last Saturday p.m. and we took off early Sunday – yesterday a.m.

We had a quiet day yesterday – but interesting. We couldn’t get into the shops – of course – but we window shopped. In the p.m. we walked along the main drag and I suggested to Bill that we drop into the next hotel we came to – just to see who was in the lobby. We did – and found no one there but a Belgian clerk who spoke good English. He told us the place was taken over by the Air Corps and we chatted awhile. He was called away for a few seconds and we just waited around. As we did – the desk phone rang and an old Belgian who couldn’t speak English asked me to take the call. A voice said “I want to speak with Admiral Byrd.” I thought first I hadn’t heard correctly so I asked him to repeat the name. Again the request sounded like Admiral Byrd. I thought it was the Air Corps having its joke and I was already to say “O.K. – cut it out, who do you want?” Before I had the chance the voice said “Byrd – B-Y-R-D” and just then the regular clerk returned and took the call. He said – “wait a minute” – and went upstairs. In 2 seconds, darling, he came down – and yes – following him – was Admiral Byrd! It wouldn’t have taken much to knock me over. Admiral Byrd here in Belgium on a Sunday p.m.! Well – he spoke for a couple of minutes and then when he finished – he walked over to where we were standing – at attention – and said – “That was General ––”. (I’d better not write the name.) That was the payoff, sweetheart, for I had come very close to telling a pretty important General to stop kidding around and get down to business. Well – I‘ve had some funny experiences, but that one goes down as among the strangest.

Incidentally, the Admiral continued to talk with us for about 5 minutes. He noticed that I was in the Medical Corps and asked me about the Evacuation of patients, etc. And then he went off and we scrammed!

In the late p.m. we met an Engineer – also on a pass. He was somewhat of a screwball but good fun and the 3 of us went around from café to café drinking beer. I almost forgot to tell you, dear. After Byrd left – we stood around for awhile and as we took off – a small dog - ½ chow ½ Pekinese started following us. Well he followed us all day, down to the Officer’s mess, into the bars etc. So we kept him – or her, rather, and despite the sex – I named her Admiral. We’ve still got it and we’ll probably take it back with us.

CLICK ON PICTURES TO ENLARGE

Greg with Admiral in Belgium

Today, dear, it has been raining and we’ve just lolled around taking it easy. We’ll probably see a movie in the evening. It’s quite a change from the damned artillery and all that goes with it.

So darling, that’s all for now. I sure could do with you – right here – although I could do with you anytime – as far as that goes. I miss you loads wherever I happen to be and always shall. For now, dear, so long, love to the folks – and

My everlasting love –

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Admiral Byrd

Admiral Byrd, 1947

Rear Admiral Richard Evelyn Byrd, Jr., United States Navy (25 October 1888 – 11 March 1957) was a naval officer who specialized in feats of exploration. He was a pioneering American aviator, polar explorer, and organizer of polar logistics.

Byrd was a descendant of one of the First Families of Virginia. His ancestors include planter John Rolfe and his wife Pocahontas, William Byrd II of Westover Plantation, who established Richmond, and Robert "King" Carter, a colonial governor. He was the brother of Virginia Governor and U.S. Senator Harry F. Byrd, a dominant figure in Virginia Democratic Party between the 1920s and 1960s; their father served as Speaker of the Virginia House of Delegates for a time. Byrd attended the Virginia Military Institute before financial circumstances inspired his transfer to the United States Naval Academy in 1912. He learned to fly in World War I during his tour with the United States Navy. He developed a passion for flight, and pioneered many techniques for navigating airplanes over the open ocean.

In 1927 non-stop flights across the Atlantic Ocean had not yet been accomplished, and Byrd joined the race to make it happen. However, during a practice takeoff with Tony Fokker at the controls and Bennett in the co-pilots seat, the Fokker Trimotor airplane, America, crashed, severely injuring Bennett and slightly injuring Byrd. As the plane was being repaired, Charles Lindbergh won the prize. But Byrd continued with his quest, and with three others flew from New York on 29 June 1927 to the coast of Normandy, crash-landing near the beach at Ver-sur-Mer, France, without fatalities on 1 July 1927.

The next year, Admiral Byrd began his first expedition to the Antarctic involving two ships, and three airplanes. A base camp named "Little America" was constructed on the Ross Ice Shelf and scientific expeditions by snowshoe, dog-sled, snowmobile, and airplane began. Photographic expeditions and geological surveys were undertaken for the duration of that summer, and constant radio communications were maintained with the outside world. After their first winter, their expeditions were resumed, and on 28 November 1929, the famous flight to the South Pole and back was launched. Byrd, along with pilot Bernt Balchen, co-pilot/radioman Harold June, and photographer Ashley McKinley, flew the Ford Trimotor to the South Pole and back in 18 hours, 41 minutes. After a further summer of exploration, the expedition returned to North America on 18 June 1930.

Byrd's Ship, 1930

On his second expedition, in 1934, Byrd spent five winter months alone operating a meteorological station, Advance Base, from which he narrowly escaped with his life after suffering carbon monoxide poisoning from a poorly ventilated stove. Unusual radio transmissions from Byrd finally began to alarm the men at the base camp, who then attempted to go to Advance Base. The first two trips were failures due to darkness, snow, and mechanical troubles. Finally, Dr. Thomas Poulter, E.J. Demas, and Amory Waite arrived at Advanced Base, where they found Byrd in poor physical health. The men remained at Advanced Base until 12 October when an airplane from the base camp picked up Dr. Poulter and Byrd.

In late 1938, Byrd visited Hamburg and was invited to participate in the 1938/1939 German "Neuschwabenland" Antarctic Expedition, but declined. Instead, Byrd's third expedition was his first to have the official backing of the U.S. government. The project included extensive studies of geology, biology, meteorology and exploration. Within a few months, in March 1940, Byrd was recalled to active duty in the Office of the Chief of Naval Operations. The expedition continued in Antarctica without him. From 1942 to 1945 he headed important missions to the Pacific, including surveys of remote islands for airfields. On one assignment he visited the fighting front in Europe. It was on this assignment that he chatted with Greg in the lobby of a hotel in Belgium.

The fourth culminating expedition, Operation Highjump, was the largest Antarctic expedition to date. In 1946, US Navy Secretary James Forrestal assembled a huge amphibious naval force for an Antarctic Expedition expected to last six to eight months. Besides the flagship USS Mount Olympus and the aircraft carrier USS Philippine Sea, there were thirteen US Navy support ships, six helicopters, six flying boats, two seaplane tenders and fifteen other aircraft. The total number of personnel involved was over 4,000. The armada arrived in the Ross Sea on 31 December 1946, and made aerial explorations of an area half the size of the United States, recording ten new mountain ranges. The major area covered was the eastern coastline of Antarctica from 150 degrees east to the Greenwich meridian.

As part of the multinational collaboration for the International Geophysical Year 1957–58, Byrd commanded the U.S. Navy Operation Deep Freeze I in 1955–56, which established permanent Antarctic bases at McMurdo Sound, the Bay of Whales, and the South Pole. Byrd died in his sleep on 11 March 1957 at his Brimmer Street home in Boston. He was buried in Arlington National Cemetery.

19 November 1944

No letter today. Just this:

* TIDBIT *

about More from General Hodges

The snapshots that follow were taken from Normandy to Victory: The War Diary of General Courtney H. Hodges & the First U.S. Army, maintained by his aides Major William C. Sylvan and Captain Francis G. Smith Jr.; edited by John T. Greenwood, copyright 2008 by the Association of the United States Army, pp.178-180.

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE

18 November 1944

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Germany

18 November, 1944       1030

My dearest Sweetheart –

I have to leave for one of the batteries this p.m. – so I’m trying to get this written now. Sick-call isn’t quite over yet, dear, but what is still around – is being taken care of by my men.

As I wrote you yesterday, I went back to Liège and saw Frank. He’s a Major now – got it in England; he was long overdue because he was chief of his department – Urology – and that calls for a majority. Anyway – it was over a year since I had seen him and we really had a lot to talk about. One of the first things he asked me about was you, darling. Yes – I was surprised too – and then he showed me a picture of you. He cleared it all up by explaining that his wife – Suzie – or Frances (the latter is her real name), had cut it out of the papers and mailed it to him. He still had it – and as you know, dear, – that was some time ago. Well – I told him all about you and the circumstance leading to our engagement and he wished us luck.

He landed in Normandy in August and his hospital has just started going operational. There have been delays and changes and I guess they’re all fed up with their C.O. Having just come from a combat area – they all wanted to know how I was making out – so I poured it on ‘heavy’; not really, though, dear – but it is strange how the boys in the rear will ask questions and want to know of your experiences etc.

In all – I was there about 2½ hours or so and then I had to head back. That was the best day I’ve had in a long while – it made both of us feel at home again. We really used to have a lot of fun together – especially when we were first getting our practices started. Frank preceded me in Mrs. Tucker’s house by about a month, and when I arrived – he sure was glad to see me – because he had been sitting around with no one at all to talk with. Many a game of cribbage did we play to kill those early hours – a nickel a game, by the way.

I hoped to find mail yesterday when I got back, but there was none at all for anyone. That makes 3 days of no mail for the battalion and it begins to look as if the Christmas pressure were really on. In the evening – we played Bridge at the Colonel’s and I held some good hands. I bid one small Slam and made it. We were vulnerable at the time.

Your account of my mother looking at the moon and imagining me looking at it too – is typical of my mother. She has never stopped being sentimental and romantic and that’s why I love her. She needn’t have worried though, darling – because I can’t remember when I’ve seen the moon at all – let alone a full moon,. That may be difficult to imagine, dear, but it’s the truth – and may give you an inkling as to what kind of weather we’ve had the past couple of months. When it hasn’t rained, it has been cloudy day and night. We know when the moon is bigger than usual – only by noticing that it is a bit brighter out some nights. But I don’t really have to see a moon to feel romantic and sentimental, sweetheart. I’m that way, anyhow.

That sure was a dirty trick they played on you on Halloween. I used to raise plenty of hell when I was a kid – but I don’t think I was ever really destructive. We read from time to time about the juvenile situation in the States – and every comment indicates that it is going from bad to worse. Maybe at war’s end things will straighten out.

By the way – I wrote and asked you the other day if it were Nin who had gone South and if so – what her new address was. I wrote her night before last anyway – just a short letter, but she had been nice to write. I felt I ought to answer her rather than to keep postponing it. And as for Granny Bernstein – by now sweetheart I know her address (although you were thoughtful in sending it) and I jotted her a V-mail just a couple of days before you mentioned writing her. You might tell her, dear, that I don’t mind if she doesn’t write me; I understand and I’ll keep dropping her a line from time to time – anyway.

Well – I’ve got to get going Sweetheart and get something done. I sure do hope I hear from you today, dear, because I’ve been missing you a terrible lot recently and a couple of letters from you – sure would help! All for the time being, then – and love to the folks. So long, dear – and

All my deepest and sincerest love,

Greg.

* TIDBIT *

about Operation Queen
The Ninth Army Also Began

This review was taken from Wikipedia's coverage of Operation Queen.

Parallel to 1st Army's advance through the Huertgen Forest, 9th Army had to advance through the Rur plains. This terrain was fundamentally different from the dense forest, consisting of flat farmland with small villages. Planning for this area for both sides was different, as the Germans expected the Allied main thrust through this area, while it was actually through the Huertgen Forest. One of the reasons for this decision was the dangerous Geilenkirchen-Salient at Ninth Army's northern flank, which would have threatened the American advance. This salient was reduced and rendered harmless in Operation Clipper, by a combined US-British attack that lasted until 22 November. The 84th Division of XIII Corps of the Ninth Army played a major role in this operation.

9th Army's drive was conducted mainly by XIX Corps under General Gillem and was opposed by Köchling's LXXXI Corps as well as the reserve forces of the XLVII Panzer Corps. The plan called for a swift advance to Jülich with its 3 Division. The 2nd Armored Division had to advance in a narrow line towards and from there towards the Rur. In the center 29th Infantry Division had to take the direct path towards Jülich and in the south the 30th Infantry Division had to take Würselen and then continue to the Rur.

As in the 1st Army's sector, Operation Queen began with a massive aerial bombardment against German towns and positions on 16 November. After the air strike was over, the American offensive was launched. 30th Division started a frontal attack against its first objective – Würselen. After four days of slow advance, the town was taken. The German resistance from the 3rd Panzergrenadier Division was hampered due the large area it had to cover. In the center, 29th Division also commenced with its attack. The plan called to advance in between the towns to deal with the fortified strongpoints after they were encircled. This plan however was flawed and 29th Division soon was pinned down making no further progress. With assistance from the 2nd Armored Division, on 18 November its drive was renewed against the opposing German 246th VGD, taking Steerich, Bettendorf and the surroundings of Siersdorf. The understrength 246th VGD was heavily reduced, and by 21 November the Americans were just 1.2 miles (2 km) ahead of the Rur.

Meanwhile in the north 2nd Armored Division also had commenced its attack on Gereonsweiler and Linnich. The advance was very steady, and already on the next day the towns Puffendorf and Immendorf were taken. This alarmed the German command and Rundstedt authorized the release of the 9th Panzer Division for a heavy armored counterattack against the two towns. Attached to this unit was the schwere Panzerabteilung 506 (506th Heavy Tank Battalion) with about 36 King Tiger tanks. At Immersdorf, the Germans were able to break into the town, but were soon repelled at close quarter fighting at dawn. The main fighting however was at Puffendorf. Since 2nd Armored Division also wanted to continue its advance towards Gereonsweiler, the division was caught in the open when about 30 German tanks approached it. In the ensuing battle, the Americans were pushed back into Puffendorf with heavy losses. Fighting continued then around the towns. German losses for this day were 11 tanks, while the 2nd Armored Division lost about 57 tanks in the fighting. However, the stalemate did not last long, as the Americans were able to push slowly forward through combined heavy artillery and aerial support. On 20/21 November, heavy fighting occurred at and in Gereonsweiler, until the Germans retreated and the town was finally in American hands.

17 November 1944

V-MAIL

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

Germany

17 November, 1944

Dearest Sweetheart –

A year ago today I was sailing away. I’d like to be sailing right back – and the sooner the better. It’s 1600 hours right now and I’ve just come into the Dispensary having been away all day today. The reason: I took a trip back to Liège, Belgium in an attempt to locate Frank Morse. I found him, too – and gee – it was swell seeing someone from home. I hadn’t seen him for about 13 months or so – the last week in September – over a year ago. There were about half a dozen other officers I know from Boston, also – and we had a good time reminiscing. I got there before lunch, ate with them and spent another hour or so there. Then I had to head back – because it was raining, the roads were slippery – and it gets dark so darned early.

Now I’ve got several things to take care of and that’s why I’m writing you a V-mail. Tomorrow, too I should be busy – I’m supposed to visit another battery for 3 days – but I think I’ll make some changes. I’ll write more tomorrow, darling, but for now, so long and

All my everlasting love

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about One of the Many


1st Lieutenant Bernard J. Ray
Company F, 8th Infantry, 4th Infantry Division

Bernard J. Ray, from Brooklyn, New York, was born on June 9, 1921. He gave his life in the Battle of the Huertgen Forest on 17 November 1944. For his heroism and his sacrifice, he was awarded the Medal of Honor. Here is what happened, as written on the citation:

He was platoon leader with Company F, 8th Infantry, on 17 November 1944, during the drive through the Huertgen Forest near Schevenhutte, Germany. The American forces attacked in wet, bitterly cold weather over rough, wooded terrain, meeting brutal resistance from positions spaced throughout the forest behind minefields and wire obstacles. Small arms, machine gun, mortar, and artillery fire caused heavy casualties in the ranks when Company F was halted by a concertina-type wire barrier.

Under heavy fire, 1st Lt. Ray reorganized his men and prepared to blow a path through the entanglement, a task which appeared impossible of accomplishment and from which others tried to dissuade him. With implacable determination to clear the way, he placed explosive caps in his pockets, obtained several bangalore torpedoes, and then wrapped a length of highly explosive primer cord about his body. He dashed forward under direct fire, reached the barbed wire and prepared his demolition charge as mortar shells, which were being aimed at him alone, came steadily nearer his completely exposed position. He had placed a torpedo under the wire and was connecting it to a charge he carried when he was severely wounded by a bursting mortar shell.

Apparently realizing that he would fail in his self-imposed mission unless he completed it in a few moments he made a supremely gallant decision. With the primer cord still wound about his body and the explosive caps in his pocket, he completed a hasty wiring system and unhesitatingly thrust down on the handle of the charger, destroying himself with the wire barricade in the resulting blast. By the deliberate sacrifice of his life, 1st Lt. Ray enabled his company to continue its attack, resumption of which was of positive significance in gaining the approaches to the Cologne Plain.

Ray was buried in
Long Island National Cemetery
Farmington, New York


Ray's dog tag was found
close to this cross
in February of 2008