10 January 1945

V-MAIL

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

10 January, 1945        1110

Wilma, darling –

I guess I’m writing more V-mails than either you or I like – but at the present time, it just can’t be helped, dear. I’d rather write one of these and make sure it gets out than to take a chance on a regular letter which I don’t think I could finish. I’m writing this – as I did yesterday – in anything but a comfortable or leisurely set-up, sweetheart.

The snowing has finally stopped – but I’ll be damned if it’s cleared up yet. Just gray skies, cold wind and low clouds. This has been a mean month so far. Last evening I went over to visit Baker Battery and got tied up – and didn’t return until 0045 this morning. So I’m a little bit tired this a.m. – but there’s lots to do.

No mail for a couple of days but maybe today. No shower or bath now for about 3 weeks and believe – that’s getting to be annoying – but again – not a damn thing to do about it. Enough about our troubles, darling. Aside from everything else, I’m feeling fine, eating well and as if you didn’t know – missing you more and more. Will try to write tomorrow, sweetheart. For now, so long, love to the folks and

My deepest love

Greg

Route of the Question Mark


[CLICK TO ENLARGE]

(A) Aisne to (B) Chêne Al Pierre (8 miles) to (C) Verleumont
(11 miles) 2 January - 10 January 1944

January 10...Chene al Pierre. All the snow and cold weather were concentrated in the two weeks that we were here, and we really hit rock bottom. We stayed as close to our stoves as possible, but we froze our feet anyway. The Battery split up, and part of it went to Verleumont, ten miles away...lived in barns and stables and were isolated by a blizzard from the rest of us. We received our sleeping bags here, and not a moment too soon. The Communications section nearly went insane trying to keep thirty miles of wire in working condition.

On a Wrecked Half-Track Stringing Communication Wires

* TIDBIT *

about Medics in the Bulge
Part 1

The following information is excerpted from a page posted by the Belgium-based "Center of Research and Information about the Battle of the Ardennes" (C.R.I.B.A.)", which was referenced in the February, 2006 issue of "The Bulge Bugle", Volume XXV, Number 1, containing "Medics in the Bulge," by Ralph Storm.

Usually the most difficult part of medical evacuation was in getting patients from the front line to aid stations. Keith Winston of the 100th Division medics in his V-Mail Letters of a Combat Medic wrote how it was done under ideal conditions:

A boy gets hurt on the line. Within a minute or less a telephone message is sent back to our forward aid station, a distance of 300 to 1000 yards from the front, where a Sergeant and four litter bearers are always on hand. They rush right up to the line with a litter.

During this time, the company aid man is administrating first aid on the spot... usually consisting of stopping the bleeding with sulfanilamide powder externally, bandaging and giving wound pills internally. By that time, another litter team is there and carries the casualty to the nearest point where a jeep can travel... anywhere from 25 to 300 yards, depending on conditions.

The boy is then rushed to the aid station, one to three miles behind the line. Here the physician removes the first aid bandage, makes a proper diagnosis, applies a more permanent bandage, administers blood plasma if needed, and in severe case, gives morphine... Next the boy is rushed by ambulance to a clearing station farther to the rear. Here he may be given an emergency operation. Then the casualty is taken by ambulance to an evacuation hospital further back where first class attention is administered.

One issue concerning seriously wounded soldiers was whether some should be sent back to the States on hospital ships. General George Patton had a somewhat unsympathetic answer to this question:

If you have two wounded soldiers, one with a gunshot wound of the lung, and another with an arm or leg blown off, you save the son-of-the-bitch with the lung wound and let the goddamn son-of-the-bitch with an amputee arm or leg go to hell. He is no goddamn use to us any more.

The Aid Station

Temporary Aid Station, Belgium, January 1945

The aid stations had no beds and were equipped only with bare essentials. After patients were diagnosed and treated, information was jotted down on a card which was attached to a button hole in the patient's coat.

Litter carrying was hard, exhausting work and often only two bearers were on hand. Glenn Ghrist Jr., of 32nd Battalion, 3rd Armored Division Medics recalled carrying wounded GIs near Sart, Belgium:

It was cold as hell… some of us survived the cold. A Captain Duffy and I volunteered to get some wounded soldiers from a field which was under artillery fire, etc. We had to wade a small river or creek to get these two soldiers and bring them to the Jeep. We carried them on our shoulders, sometimes crawling, sometimes running to get the hell out of there.

Glenn had been wounded earlier at the Falaise Gap in France, and was wounded again at Sart, Belgium. Glenn, on occasion, rode in a tank in which the tankers called him "Doc".

It was not unusual for battalion surgeons to sometimes act as litter bearers. Keith Winston wrote of his unit's being short of litter bearers in emergencies:

If an emergency arises your position means nothing. If it calls for five liter teams immediately, Doc and I will go up and haul. He and I were doing it one day with no facilities at all.

Gilbert Lueck of the 26th Infantry division medics recalled a night when he and the battalion commander carried out a badly wounded lieutenant. It was after darkness had fallen, and Gil was bedded down in his slit trench several hundred yards behind the front when he heard a Jeep pull up nearby and a familiar voice call out, "Medic, medic!" Gil had heard that voice before. It was the battalion commander and Gil had gotten into a heated argument with him once in the states. Gil recalled how the CO had chewed him out. Gil was thirty-one when he was drafted and not easily intimidated by higher ranks. Gil stood up and called out, "Here sir!" The Colonel described the situation as they climbed into his Jeep. They drove to a nearby village and eventually found the injured lieutenant lying next to a manure pile. They placed their casualty on the Jeep and drove him to the aid station. For Gil it was a routine event until several weeks later he was summoned to the battalion headquarters where he was awarded a Bronze star.

09 January 1945

V-MAIL

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

9 January, 1945        1100

Hello Sweetheart –

I know you worry when you don’t hear so I’m trying my darndest to get some kind of letter out to you each day, dear – but sometimes it’s difficult – not always because of the time element, but more often now because of the conditions, environment, weather – need I go on?

It snowed like all get out yesterday. As a matter of fact, counting today – it’s the third day of snow and it’s more than I’ve seen for 2 winters. Last winter in England – there was practically no snow at all, and the winter before that we were South on maneuvers. It looks as if we’ll get our fill of it this winter though. But we’re doing all right and heading back steadily, if slowly, in the right direction – so don’t be discouraged, darling, and don’t worry, because I’m taking good care of myself.

All for now, sweetheart, except to remind you that – snow, rain and ice – make no difference. I still love only you. My love to the folks – and so long

All my love, dear

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about the Continuing Counter-Offensive

From "U.S. Army in WWII European Theater of Operations: The Last Offensive" by Charles B. MacDonald for the Department of the Army's Office of the Chief of Military History, page 31, published in 1973 in Washington, D.C. comes this excerpt:

Near the end of the first week, on 8 January, Hitler at last authorized a withdrawal, not all the way back to a line anchored on Houffalize as General von Manteuffel had urged but only out of the extreme tip of the bulge to a line anchored on a great eastward loop of the Ourthe River some five miles west of Houffalize. Because of the point at which Hitler drew the withdrawal line, only a few troops of the Sixth Panzer Army, those on the extreme west wing near La Roche, were involved. Those authorized to withdraw were mainly contingents of the Fifth Panzer Army facing the British and the U.S. VIII Corps west of Bastogne.

While the units of the Sixth Panzer Army were to continue to hold, Dietrich's headquarters was to pull out, gradually relinquishing control to the Fifth Panzer Army. Thereupon, the two SS panzer corps headquarters and four SS panzer divisions that originally had belonged to the Sixth Panzer Army were to join Dietrich's headquarters in the rear near St. Vith, there to form a reserve to guard against attacks near the base of the bulge. This was, in effect, tacit admission - Hitler's first - that the Ardennes counteroffensive had failed utterly.

Reflecting the withdrawal, resistance on the right wing of the VII Corps gradually slackened. The fight was as dogged as ever on the other wing, where in deference to marshy ground and an impoverished roadnet leading to the final objectives on the southeastern slopes of the Plateau des Tailles, the 83d Division on 9 January 1945 assumed the assault role on the left wing of the VII Corps. It took the infantry two days to break into and clear a village south of the La Roche-Salmchâteau highway and another day to beat off counterattacks. Not until forcibly rooted out would the Germans budge from any position.

The 84th Infantry Division was given the right half of the zone. As far as the La Roche Road, the 333rd Infantry had advanced with relative ease. Once beyond the road, it ran into much more trouble. In Les Tailles and at the edge of the woods to the south, an estimated enemy battalion was dug in. On the other side of the Houffalize Road, an estimated reinforced company was holding Petites Tailles. The 2nd Battalion went out from the La Roche Road to Les Tailles, the 1st Battalion to Petites Tailles. The experiences of both were significantly similar.

84th Infantry Medics carry 333rd wounded,
some on litters over the hood

At the same time, the 82d Airborne Division had the job of protecting the left flank of the VII Corps. To do this, the airborne division was to press forward to the line of the Salm River. Assisted by an attached separate regiment, the 517th Parachute Infantry, the airborne division had jumped off along with the VII Corps on 3 January. Like the armored divisions, the paratroopers and glidermen had met resistance immediately from the weather, the terrain, and, to a lesser extent, the enemy. Close alongside the boundary with the VII Corps, the 517th Parachute Infantry had made only limited progress until it turned abruptly on 7 January to take the enemy in flank. The next day the paratroopers drove all Germans before them east of the Salm and sent patrols to range as far as two miles beyond the river. On the 9th they established a small bridgehead across the Salm to be used as a stepping stone when the offensive turned in the direction of St. Vith.

08 January 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

8 January, 1945        1300

My own darling –

I got your letter of 26 December late yesterday afternoon and I read it over and over again. You were blue, you were sad, you were romantic, sentimental. You were sweet, poignant; you were a woman. I always felt you loved me, sweetheart, before I left and more so after I came overseas. But never before have you expressed yourself so clearly, so warmly, so affectionately. You put me at a loss for words to adequately describe to you my feelings on reading that letter. I thought I had powers of expression, darling, but I don’t see how I could possibly do as well as you.

Sweetheart – you ask me to put aside any hesitation I might have about writing you a sentimental letter. Do you catch any sentiment in my letters at all or do I hide it too well? Every hour, every day – I’m filled with sentiment, and thought and love for you. It becomes so aggravating I lose my civility. I want to write you, to tell you all the things that run through my mind – and I stop; I become matter of fact, tell you some of my activities and let it go at that. I tell myself then what a good soldier I am.

I suppose I am, but it hurt me to read your letter asking me to tell you I love you, I miss you. It makes me feel I haven’t been a very good fiancé – when all the while my longing for you and my heartache that we must be apart are enough to drive me mad at times, enough to make me want to do almost anything to get out of here and back to you where I belong. Each hour, each day is interminable for me away from you; I’m so jealous of time I become morbid over it. I see a cloudy sky and realize the war is thus delayed another day and I’m miserable. I’m not the happy-go-lucky fellow I once was, darling, not by a long shot. I can’t be – although my nature is such. I see you in everything I do and seeing you I want you and not having you is frustrating to the point of agony. Lonely? How can a fellow become lonely with thousands of soldiers about him, with things popping around him – and I’m lonely, so terribly lonesome at times, so more lonesome than I’ve ever been before, darling – lonesome for you and your love and warmth and affection and intimacy; lonesome for you and you alone darling. I want you, I want us to be together, alone as man and wife, living as we should be living, dear – not in this strange way, waiting anxiously for letters, thinking into the dimming past about the few precious months we had together. I can sit by the hour and think about those times, about how I came to love you, how I was fighting against the time I had to leave and angry with fate because I hadn’t quite enough time to ask you to be my fiancée. I knew then how I felt, but I wouldn’t let myself, you or anyone else say or think I had tied you down at the last moment. I wanted time to dignify our engagement, and it did. But not before I worried about it, wondered what would happen, asked myself if I were going to lose you after having found you – the girl I wanted as my wife. Those were trying months, too, sweetheart. And then when we did become engaged – it was chagrin all over again at my not being able to see you, feel you, kiss you and tell you the things I felt in my heart and only partially said because I knew that we could take it better that way, that we could learn to miss each other more easily.

And what do you suppose combat has been like? You can read a lot about it in the papers – but you can’t find out what I’ve felt and experienced – not in the horrors of war, but in what goes thru a fellow’s mind when he’s in love and wants to get back to the one he loves – whole and sound as he left –

Sweetheart – believe me when I write that I believe the way I’ve written in the past is best for both of us. You must know in a hundred different ways that no one in this world means as much to me as you, that I love you as I’ve loved no one before, that my one goal is to marry you and make you happier than you’ve ever been before in your life. Have faith, darling, and patience – and when the time comes we’ll be the happiest, luckiest, most in-love couple in the world. Remember ever and always – that I love you deeply, sincerely, faithfully – and that now and always I’m

Completely yours,

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about the "Blunted Spear"

The following article, titled "Blunted Spear", comes from TIME magazine, January 8, 1945, Vol. XLV No. 2, giving a review of the Bulge so far. The photos are from various places on the internet.

The battlefield east of Celles was a white silence, darkly blotched with corpses and wreckage. At Celles, three miles short of the Meuse River, the German spearhead which had reached 50 miles into Belgium was blunted and turned back.

CLICK TO ENLARGE PICTURES

2nd Panzer Division near Celles, Belgium - December 1944

When Field Marshal Gerd von Rundstedt's advanced forces reached Celles they were jumped by First Army tanks, artillery and infantry, aided by U.S. and British planes. The enemy lost 63 tanks, 49 guns, 177 vehicles, 1,200 prisoners, uncounted dead. Then, in a wild two-day battle the German remnants were driven back to Rochefort.

Rocks in the Stream. The German drive had already been slowed down by the heroic stand of the 101st Airborne at Bastogne (see below), which confined Rundstedt's columns to secondary roads north and south of the town. The 82nd Airborne had put up a fierce defense around Stavelot, the 7th Armored between Saint-Vith and Vielsalm, the 1st Infantry at the north shoulder of the salient below Monschau, and the 4th Infantry at the south shoulder, around Echternach. The two infantry outfits had prevented Rundstedt from widening the salient's base. They were pegs that did not pull out.

In the path of the Germans, U.S. troops died with knives clenched in their fists, having run out of ammunition. Others, bypassed and trapped, lived for days on raw potatoes. The situation looked bad when the two German prongs merged in one bulge. It seemed the enemy might reach the great sweep of the Meuse from Liège to Sedan,dig in behind the river.

In the early days of the attack, General Eisenhower had hustled to a headquarters at Verdun, conferred with his top generals. In 15 minutes he had appraised the scope and probable aims of the push, taken his decisions, issued his orders. First Army reserves bore down from the north, compressed the salient's right flank, recaptured Grandmenil and Manhay. On the south, General Patton's armor blasted a corridor to Bastogne, pushed on to the north and then west to encircle the German tip south of Saint-Hubert. Patton also broadened his attacking front all the way east to Echternach.

Manhay Crossroads

Shrinking Salient. Last week Patton's wedge was only 13 miles from the First Army dents in the north. The German position was something like that in the Falaise-Argentan pincers of last summer. Could the Germans get out? It was well to remember that last summer, when the Wehrmacht was less ably commanded than it is now, the Germans who had seemed hopelessly bottled in the Falaise trap were able to extricate five divisions of armor almost intact. If Rundstedt was content with the delay and damage already wrought against his foes in the west, he might be able to pull back to the West Wall without serious loss.

Up to this week, however, he gave no sign of preparing such a move. His salient was contracting, but it was shrinking around a hard armored shell—in which he might be regrouping for another thrust at Liège, main Allied rear base for the Aachen-Cologne sector. The first heavy German blow in four days was an assault by three divisions on the Bastogne corridor.

07 January 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

7 January, 1945        1300

Wilma, darling –

Well – last night was Saturday and so this must be Sunday afternoon but somehow it doesn’t seem quite like it. I don’t know exactly why. It has been persistently cloudy, foggy and raw outside and that hasn’t helped us one bit, as you can easily imagine. Everything seems stagnant – just as if it were the middle of the winter, and my gosh! – it really is, isn’t it? There are now flurries again today – and I suppose we just can’t expect any decent weather until the Spring.

Last night was extremely dull and all of us just sat around and talked. I played three or four games of cribbage with one of the boys – and that was about all. The night, as well, was quiet. This morning the sick-call was quiet, too, but I expect some patients in – a little later this afternoon.

Say, before I forget it, will you do me a favor darling? Eleanor’s Birthday is February 14th and I can’t get her anything from here, of course. If you could send her some chocolates in my name and also get her some gift of some sort, I’d appreciate it a whole lot. I had a blank check made out, signed – and then I tore it up because it’s just not a good idea to send checks like that in a letter. I’d rather wait until you tell me what you spent and then mail you a check for the correct amount. Get her anything you think she wants and have it signed ‘Happy Birthday, Harold’; ditto for the chocolates. I’ll thank you now, dear, for the trouble.

And that reminds me – how did we make out on a gift for Stan and Betty? Did you finally get one and if you did I want to know my share. Include the amount on what you spent on Eleanor’s gift and I’ll send you a check for the total.

I was so glad to read you had received the perfume – and so close to the correct time. It was pure hypothesis as regards time – when I had it mailed – and I hoped you liked it. When we came thru France we traveled too swiftly to buy anything, and the day I got to Paris – buying anything was out of the question. But I did manage to get to Chalerois – in Belgium and get just about the last bottle in a parfumerie. It seems that every G-I over here had about the same idea. I have since looked several times – but what they have now has been diluted with water and the popular brands just don’t exist anymore. You might write me the names of a few of the desirable ones, though – and I can keep my eyes open.

The paperweight and calendar – were just free riders, dear. I had them – the calendar since way back in France – and I just thought I’d send them along. The eagle I found on the desk of a luxurious office in a town when we first hit Germany. It was the office of the Nazi Party in town and the paperweight was evidently some trophy or prize given to one of the occupants of the office. I liked it – so took it. Anyway – I’m glad you liked the perfume and that it wasn’t broken. You know – you must have quite a collection of junk that I’ve sent you ever since I hit England. What are you doing with it all, dear? And by the way, how’s the clock running – if at all? I’ve got another trophy to send you – a dagger, no less – but darling it’s significance is only as a souvenir. I’ve had it for some time but I didn’t know whether or not I could mail it. I think it is allowed now. It’s beautifully steeled, has a scabbard, is engraved with “Alles für Deutschland” – on the blade and of course has the Nazi seal on the handle. I’ll have it packed in the next few days and send it out. After the war, sweetheart, we’ll have to have one room for trophies – or junk – as you may see fit to call it.

Well, that’s the story for now, dear. I’m going over to see if there was any mail today. It’s been 4 days now, I believe, and I could do with a couple of nice letters from you, believe me. Hope you’re having a nice day now back home and I sure would give a lot to be sitting in your living room now, with you by my side – just as we used to do. But surer than shooting – I’ll be doing that again and we’ll be happy. Love to the folks, sweetheart. So long for awhile and

All my deepest love,

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Two Battalions Heading for Houffalize

Here is more of Sgt Theodore DRAPER's story of the 84th, with photos from various places on the internet:

2nd Battalion, 333rd Infantry

The turning point of the entire action probably came on 7 January 1945, not where we had to fight the hardest but where progress was still relatively easy. That day, the 2nd Battalion, 333rd Infantry, was sent out to capture the vital crossroads where the La Roche Road and the Houffalize Road meet. The weather was miserable. A snowstorm whipped up during the attack. Nevertheless, by 0930, the crossroads were ours. Prisoners, frozen, hungry, and disorganized, were picked up in small, wandering groups. They said they were surprised again. An attack in such harsh weather was completely unexpected. Our interrogators heard that story almost every day. As soon as we captured the crossroads, the enemy was deprived of the only two first-rate roads to the east, the La Roche Road and the Houffalize Road.

Partly because German resistance above the La Roche Road on our right flank was so much stronger than on our left, we were able to cut the road first on the extreme left of our zone at the crossroads. As we gained full control of the road, we continued to move from left to right. Next, one of our task forces came down from Amonines to Dochamps and from Dochamps we launched the attack on one of the enemy's positions, Samree. The trip from Amonines to Dochamps was the same, old story. The road, though the best in the sector, was so icy and narrow that the tanks were held up repeatedly.

CLICK TO ENLARGE PICTURES

US Tanks near Amonines, Belgium - January 1945

Road blocks, which took about two hours each to reduce on the average, some small-arms fire but this time very little artillery, represented the enemy's main effort to hold us up. Mine fields and trees felled across the road by detonating TNT charges, antitank guns and tanks, were effective sources of enemy resistance. On 7 January, we were able to move into Dochamps.

2nd Armored Division entering Dochamps, Belgium
January, 1945

Dochamps, Belgium, Today

One incident was symbolic. After we had spread out in the village, a German tank with 60-80 infantrymen suddenly pulled out from behind the church and made for Samree. Our tank destroyers could not fire a shot because their turrets were frozen, striking example of weather conditions which lessened the effectiveness of our mechanized equipment and threw the main burden of attack and defense on our infantry. Samree was seemingly impregnable. It was perched on an 1,800-foot hill.

Amonines to Dochamps in Valleys
(A) Samree on a hill

First we had to take two other hills, northeast and northwest of it. Our troops had to move through 1,500 yards of rolling ground in knee-deep snow. The enemy had perfect observation every inch of the way. To tell the truth, it was hard to see how we could make it.

1st Battalion, 334th Infantry

The battle of La Roche is a good example of the battle of supply and the battle of stamina which every Battle in the Bulge was. The roads to La Roche were particulary bad, the hills particulary high and the woods particulary dense. A few tanks and trucks turned the snow on the roads into ice and the trouble started. The Doughboys depended more than ever on the Engineer and Artillerymen. The main attack was launched from Devantave by the 1st Battalion, 334th Infantry. The first objective was Marcouray. Over a hundred guns softened up the village for five minutes.

Marcouray, Belgium Today

Then, at 1500, 7 January 1945, the infantry jumped off. The ground was rocky and steep. It was snowing again. Thirty minutes later, all German resistance in Marcouray was overrun. We found that the enemy positions were carefully prepared. Snow was a natural camouflage. Fortunately, we were achieving tactical surprises and much of the preparation was wasted. As prisoner after prisoner told us, the weather and terrain were so bad that our infantry was simply not expected. That is one compensation for "impossible" conditions - they are apt to lead the enemy to drop his guard. The enemy's surprise at Marcouray was shown by the equipment he was forced to leave behind. We picked up 36 vehicles: eight half-track, two command cars, six U.S. jeeps, six civilian type cars, five six-wheeled reconnaissance vehicles, five U.S. tanks, two German 1½-ton trucks.

06 January 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

6 January, 1945       1330

Dearest darling Wilma –

I’ve had a kind of busy day today and this has been my first opportunity to sit down and try to concentrate for a few minutes anyway. No mail yesterday or today because the A.P.O. is moving, I guess.

Last night was quiet. Bruce and I challenged the Colonel and Hi Morley to a 3 rubber game of Bridge and we had our ears pinned back losing 2 out of 3 of the rubbers. But it was fun and time-consuming. We’re not playing so much now because our present set-up has us spread out quite a bit and we don’t care to walk around between spots very much at night. Coming back last night we were challenged at least ten times. It’s very essential to know the password these days.

I like reading your ideas about love in one of the letters I received from you day before yesterday. You say that seeing me happy and content will make you so, too. Since I feel the same way, sweetheart – it ought to be ideal. You ask me a question that’s very difficult to answer, darling, the one about my previous ‘love’ for any other girl. Yes I am older than you and presumably more experienced therefore. The ‘other girl’ – I don’t recall at all so I can’t answer that. I feel certain I didn’t love her. I don’t know how to describe exactly how I felt about Alice. It’s a long time since she was fresh in my mind, too. To be perfectly frank, dear, I thought I loved her towards the end of the time I was seeing her and I was no youngster then. To be true – I was attracted to her physically more than anything else – and that plus the fact that it was so convenient to see her – made her seem indispensable at that time. But had I truly loved her – I believe I would have married her, religion or not – and the fact that after 4 years I was able to stop seeing her and see the light, makes me think that it couldn’t have been love. Love is something I certainly can’t describe. To me it’s like a result, the effect rather than the cause. How did I know I loved you? I don’t know the answer dear; I just felt I did. I liked you the very first time I went out with you – and not only because we had fun that night. You appeared to me immediately as the girl I’d always wanted and never met before. I felt I loved you not long afterwards for the way you reacted to me, the way you laughed, carried yourself; for your ideas on life, for your maturity despite your age. I like to dance with you, talk with you, sit beside you, kiss you. That’s loving someone. I’m sure, sweetheart. I’ve never felt differently since – despite our separation – and I know I won’t change.

I was a little surprised at your statement that Mother B thought I was not quite warm enough – especially when I address your folks as “Dear Folks”. To me, dear, that’s just about the warmest expression ever – and it’s what I’ve always used when writing my own folks. But I think in the long run, darling, that Mother B will know I do feel warm to your folks and it’s more than that.

It’s getting late, dear and I’ll have to run along and get some supper. Hope to hear from you tomorrow. For now, love to the folks – and so long.

All my eternal love

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about the Counter-Offensive Continues

Here is more of Sgt Theodore DRAPER's story of the 84th:

By the time we took Devantave, it was clear that the original plan which gave the infantry a supporting role was not working out. The terrain and the weather were against it and they won. The victory of the elements gave the Infantry the main job. The Ardennes neither lacks roads nor is rich in roads. A British source has estimated that 13 separate first-class roads cross the Ardennes from Germany to France. There are perhaps three secondary roads for every first-class one and numerous trails. But so many pass through long stretches of woods, so many teeter on the edge of cliffs and wind up and down and around the inescapable hills. In May, too, the possibilities of resistance in the Ardennes would be immense.

In January, in snow that keeps piling up from the ankle to the knee, from the knee to the waist, only a little effort is necessary to turn possibilities into realities. All vehicles have to stick to roads to get anywhere, only more often than not they cannot stick to roads because they are constantly sliding off. The next best thing is to proceed slowly and carefully but then your vehicles may miss the jump-off by hours and the infantry has gone off alone. Is it curious that a terrain that is considered too tough for a tank is never considered too tough for a Doughboy? As a result of the problems which arose in the first four days for the armor, after Devantave was taken, more clearly defined zones for the armor and the infantry began to emerge.

From Devantave, the 2nd Armored Division, with the 335th Infantry still attached, veered off more sharply to the southeast to get to Samree through Dochamps, while the 84th Infantry Division assumed responsability for the drive southward to La Roche and for the La Roche Road as far as Samree. One thing stood out again. When nothing else moved, the Doughboys moved and they moved long and often. And what was it like for them? It took a good two hours to get through the frozen crust of earth. It took two or three hours more to get down as far as three feet. Not only was digging a foxhole a job in which a whole day's energies could be consumed, but it was practically impossible to dig a really good foxhole at least five feet deep.

GIs digging hasty foxholes near Berisment.
For the soldier in the foreground it was too late.

The weather continued to get colder and colder until it went well below freezing and stayed there. This meant there was only one thing worse than not sleeping - and that was sleeping. The quickest way to freeze is to lie still. Men went to sleep in overcoats - when they had them - and woke up encased in icy boards. It was practically impossible to bring up supplies and rations in anything but half-tracks. Water congealed in canteens. Frostbite was as dangerous as all the Krauts and their guns put together. The Doughboys who went into Devantave fought 96 hours without a break and they were not through by a long shot. We took Consy the way we took most of the strong points - by going around it.

Two sharpshooters of G Company, 290 Infantry Regiment,
US 75th Infantry Division provide cover near Devantave

When we took Devantave on 6 January 1945, we outflanked Consy on the left. Then we sent two battalions into the woods west of Consy and the enemy was squezzed out in the middle. He did not choose to hold even this commanding position at Consy at all cost. By 7 January 1945, Consy was virtually cleaned out though the woods on the right flank were not completely safe for another two days.

Road to Devantave Today

05 January 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

5 January, 1945         1330

My dearest sweetheart –

We finally got a trickle of mail thru yesterday p.m. and I got seven letters, six from you and one from my Dad. They were all in the period between 16 and 23 November and contained a great deal I was anxious to hear about. The letter from my Dad – although cheery as usual, didn’t exactly fool me. He and my mother seemed lonely from the way he wrote and in addition – he sounded tired. I do wish he didn’t work so damned hard. I’ve just completed a letter to him advising him to take it easier, sell less and relax more; but my father has never been like that and I don’t suppose a letter from me will change him.

I’ll try to answer your letters in sequence, darling. I have before me your letter of the 20th of November. At that time there was a good deal of excitement about the “big push”. Boy does that ever seem like ancient history now! Yes – we were in it – but I’m sorry we disappointed you, darling – but it was tough warring.

Both your letter and Dad A’s mentioned Irving’s operation and it really came as a surprise to me. I never did understand his first attack and apparent rapid recovery. I hope he’s well now and back to practice – but convalescence in gall bladder cases is often rather slow. It must have been a little tough for Ruth for awhile.

Thank Barbara for her little note – inserted in one of your letters and for her concern for me, dear. And ask her where she learned such fluent German? I laughed at your remarks about looking at the ads and wanting to buy slippers, robes etc. for me. I almost bought a pair of slippers for myself the other day, but I couldn’t quite make it. Yes – in the past I did buy things I knew I wanted. I hate to shop. I usually know what kind of shoe or suit I want, try it on and if it fits – it’s a sale. But I can’t imagine being as callous about gifts as you mention Arthur to be. And I can less imagine my buying for myself – someone else’s gift to me.

That reminds me – I sent out a couple of more packages to you today, sweetheart – nothing much – but I don’t want to lug it around. One was a book of photos I came across in Stolberg. It was an album depicting scenes taken from the Graf Zeppelin when it circled the world some years ago. I was going to try to cut the photos out and then decided to send the whole thing back.

CLICK TO ENLARGE PICTURES

Front Cover of Book which measures about 13.5 inches by 9.5 inches


Frontispiece


Introduction... Translation Anyone?


This page shows 8 of the 265 photos in this book

The other is a men’s toilet set I got a few days back. I don’t remember whether or not I mentioned it to you. It was sent me by a former patient of mine who now lives in Chicago. I have no use for it here. But I did remove the hair brush, darling, just to play around with the hair I have left. It would be senseless to send the brush home and then return some day and find I have no hair left to brush. Don’t you agree?

It seems as if my timing on your Birthday Card was good. It was pure guess work, though. I’m glad you liked it, dear. As I remember it – I bought it a long while ago back in Liege. And I was lucky to find it – by the way, because Birthday cards and such – just don’t head the priority list in Europe these days.

Darling – one of my boys just came over to get me and I have to trot back to the Dispensary to do a little work on someone. It was so swell hearing from you again – no matter the date – and I know that you still love me as much as I love you – as strongly, as warmly – as expectantly. My love for now to the folks, sweetheart.

And all my deepest love

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about the Graf Zeppelin

The information that follows about the Graf Zeppelin was extracted directly from the blog Airships developed and maintained by Dan Grossman of Atlanta, Georgia.

First, a letter from a reader of the Airships blog helped explain where the book that Greg sent to Wilma originated...

My mother who is also German, Swiss tells me her parents who were heavy smokers collected cigarette coupons from a particular brand (still not sure which but probably out of business long time ago like the zeppelins) and would cash the coupons in for the pictures to fill the album which was also provided by the cigarrette company.

Now, some of the history of the Graf Zeppelin as researched by Dan Grossman.

Ferdinand Graf von Zeppelin, (July 8, 1838 - March 8, 1917), was not only the innovator and driving force behind the construction of the first zeppelin airships, he also piloted and commanded most of the early ships himself. Certainly the most successful zeppelin ever built, LZ-127 was christened “Graf Zeppelin” by the daughter of Ferdinand Graf von Zeppelin on July 8, 1928, which would have been the late count’s 90th birthday. By the time of Graf Zeppelin’s last flight, nine years later, the ship had flown over a million miles, on 590 flights, carrying thousands of passengers and hundreds of thousands of pounds of frreight and mail, with safety and speed. Graf Zeppelin circled the globe and was famous throughout the world, and inspired an international zeppelin fever in the late 1920s and early 1930s.

Graf Zeppelin made the very first commercial passenger flight across the Atlantic, departing Friedrichshafen at 7:54 AM on October 11, 1928, and landing at Lakehurst, New Jersey on October 15, 1928, after a flight of 111 hours and 44 minutes. The ship carried 40 crew members under the command of Hugo Eckener, and 20 passengers. The ship’s first transatlantic crossing almost ended in disaster when it encountered a strong squall line on the morning of October 13th. Captain Eckener had uncharacteristically entered the storm at full power — he was known to reduce speed in bad weather — and the ship pitched up violently in the hands of an inexperienced elevatorman. Eckener sent a repair team of four men — including his son — to repair the covering in flight.

Eckener also made the difficult decision to send out a distress call, knowing that he was risking the reputation of his brand new ship, and perhaps the entire zeppelin enterprise. The distress signal was soon picked up by the press, and newspapers around the world ran sensational stories about the looming destruction of the overdue Graf Zeppelin on its maiden voyage.

The emergency repairs were successful, but the ship encountered a second squall front near Bermuda. Graf Zeppelin made it through the second storm, even with the temporary repairs to the damaged fin, and reached the American coast on the morning of October 15th. After a detour over Washington, Baltimore, Philadelphia, and New York, to show Graf Zeppelin off to the wildly enthusiastic American public, Eckener brought his damaged ship to a safe landing at the United States naval base at Lakehurst, New Jersey on the evening of October 15, 1928. Graf Zeppelin was overdue, damaged, and had run out of food and water, but Eckener, his crew, and his passengers were greeted like heroes with a ticker-tape parade along New York City’s Broadway.

From Greg's Book, the North American Flight in 1928

After two weeks of repairs to the damaged fin, Graf Zeppelin departed Lakehurst on October 29, 1928 for its return to Germany. The return flight took 71 hours and 49 minutes, or just under three days; the ocean liners of the day took twice as long to carry passengers across the Atlantic.

In 1929, Graf Zeppelin made perhaps its most famous flight; a round-the-world voyage covering 21,2500 miles in five legs from Lakehurst to Friedrichshafen, Friedrichshafen to Tokyo, Tokyo to Los Angeles, Los Angeles to Lakehurst, and then Lakehurt to Friedrichshafen again. The Lakehurst to Lakehurst voyage had taken just 12 days and 11 minutes of flying time, and brought worldwide attention and fame to Graf Zeppelin and its commander, Hugo Eckener.

From Greg's Book, Route Around the World in 1929

By the summer of 1931, after many pioneering flights which demonstrated the airship’s impressive capabilities and captured the enthusiasm of the world, Graf Zeppelin began regularly scheduled commercial service on the route between Germany and South America. Graf Zeppelin crossed the South Atlantic 18 times in 1932, and made a similar number of flights in 1933.

The Graf Zeppelin was recruited as a tool of Nazi propaganda remarkably soon after the National Socialist takeover of power in early 1933. Only three months after Adolf Hitler’s appointment as chancellor, the Propaganda Ministry ordered Graf Zeppelin to fly over Berlin as part of the government’s May 1, 1933 celebration of the “Tag de Nationalen Arbeit,” the Nazi version of the May Day celebration of labor.

Later in May, 1933, Graf Zeppelin flew to Rome in connection with Propaganda Minister Joseph Goebbels’ first official meeting with the fascist government of Italy; Goebbels invited Italian Air Minister Italo Balbo to join him on a flight over Rome. In September, 1933, Graf Zeppelin flew over the Reichsparteitag congress at Nuremberg (the “1933 Nuremberg Rally’) to dramatically herald Hitler’s appearance before the crowd.

In 1935 and 1936, Graf Zeppelin’s schedule was almost exclusively devoted to passenger and mail service between Germany and Brazil, with crossings back and forth almost every two weeks between April and December. Over its career, Graf Zeppelin crossed the South Atlantic 136 times; it was first regularly scheduled, nonstop, intercontinental airline service in the history of the world. Throughout the remainder of its career Graf Zeppelin was ordered to make numerous propaganda flights, occasionally in concert with LZ-129 Hindenburg after that ship was launched in 1936.

Graf Zeppelin was over the Canary Islands on the last day of a South American flight from Brazil to Germany when it received news of the Hindenburg disaster in Lakehurst, New Jersey. Captain Hans von Schiller withheld the news from his passengers, and told them of the disaster only after the ship’s safe landing in Germany. Graf Zeppelin landed in Friedrichshafen on May 8, 1937, and never carried a paying passenger again. The ship made only one additional flight, on June 18, 1937, from Friedrichshafen to Frankfurt, where she remained on display — all her hydrogen removed — until she was broken up on the orders of Hermann Goering’s Luftwaffe in March, 1940.

04 January 1945

V-MAIL

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

4 January, 1945       1600

Dearest Wilma –

I had a swell dream last night – namely that I was home again; not only I, but my whole outfit. Not bad, eh? Do you believe in dreams, darling?

Just got back from Charlie Battery where I spent part of the day. Was supposed to be there the last three days but just couldn’t make it. The days are pretty short and there’s lots to get done. When I finish writing this I’ve got to dash over to Group Hq. and visit a sick Colonel there.

By the way, dear – I sent two packages out today. One is a gift I received from the Salem Hosp. The other is a large album of photographs of a journey once made by one of the Rothschilds. I don’t know if the latter will get through.

It snowed all day today – and although the hills here and the woods are beautiful – the effect on the war effort is more important. Nothing to do about it.

All else well, Sweetheart and I hope you’re keeping in good time. Remember I love you – and you only and that’s my constant thought. S’long for now –

Always yours

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about the Counter-Offensive Begins

Beginning on 23 December 1944, for five days the weather had favored the Americans, in the air and on the ground. Superior numerically in tanks, the Americans benefited more than the Germans from the sure footing the big freeze provided for armor. Then, on 28 December, came clouds and overcast followed, a day later, by arctic air from Scandinavia, heavy snows, blizzards, and greatly reduced visibility at ground level. Vehicular movement was slow, the riflemen exhausted themselves wading through the drifts, and the wounded-those in a state of shock - died if left in the snow for more than half an hour or more. This was the state of the weather when, on 3 January, the Allies began their final counterattack.

CLICK TO ENLARGE PICTURES

Greg's location at Aisne, Belgium is marked by
the Red Dot within the red ellipse.
This map was found on Emerson Kent's
World History for the Relaxed Historian web site

Aisne, Belgium, where Greg was set-up, was within the zone of the 84th Infantry Division, as can be seen on the above map. A few veterans remember the 84th action and tell of wounded being taken back to the Battalion Aid Station. Perhaps Greg was treating some like these.

Wounded near Aisne

Sgt Theodore DRAPER of the 84th remembered this:

The terrain in the Ardennes is like a jigsaw puzzle. Somehow all of it fits together but somehow all of it can be taken apart and the pieces fall into the oddest shapes. Each hill and wood is like a separate compartment and tactically each one becomes a distinct problem. In this rolling country, there is commanding high ground in almost every mile so that an overnight withdrawal from one hill of defense to the next is relatively easy. The villages and fragments of villages - the toughest "village" to take in our offensive had a single house - are invariably astride the roads and inevitably become enemy strong points.

The German Bulge was hit from three sides. The third Army came up from the south, from Bastogne. The First Army came down from the north, from both sides of Manhay. A British Corps attacked from the west, from Marche. To get the whole story, then, at least three large phases have to be covered. The main effort, however, was made by the First Army, from the north.

But the main effort was assigned to the 2nd Armored and 84th Infantry Divisions - both La Roche and Houffalize were in their zone of advance. We - the 2nd Armored Division and the 84th Infantry Division - were attacking on a front about nine miles wide. Although originally planned as armored offensive, with the infantry in support, the battle of the Ardennes Bulge quickly became an infantry attack primarily, with the armor used only as the ground permitted.

D-day was 3 January 1945. H-hour was 0830. From early morning the roads were icy. The temperature shot down till the ground was like steel. Tank treads slipped and slid as if the tanks were drunk. Every time a tank skidded, a column was held up. Sometimes the tanks skidded just far enough to block the road.

3rd Armor, 7 January 1945
Waiting while tank that had slid across the road is cleared

The main objective that day was Devantave, beyond a cluster of woods and a hill. The tanks could not get through the woods and our infantry had to push ahead.

290th Regiment in Woods, January 1945

We got through the woods safely and one company stepped out to cross the hill. Eighty-eights were waiting for them. Eighty-eights and rockets and mortars swept the hill and crashed into the woods. We had to pull back. Light tanks were used to evacuate the wounded; nothing else was possible in the snow.

At 1500, we again tried to take Devantave but again we could not get over the hill. We withdrew for the night.

S/Sgt Willard H. (Bud) FLUCK of the 84th Infantry Division, HQ Company, 333rd Infantry Regiment remembered this:

It took a few days to get re-organized, but on January 3, 1945, the 84th was paired with the 2nd Armored while the 83rd was paired with the 3rd Armored for the start of our-counter-offensive to choke off the tip of the German penetration. Our pincer move was to start at Manhay and end at Houffalize where we were to meet the Third Army coming from the south, only about half our distance. The following days are confused in my mind, for we seemed always on the move from one short stay here or there to another place with a name.

The next day it snowed and kept on snowing. Roads became almost invisible, and vehicles slid into ditches. Tanks made the hard surfaces slick as ice. In a blinding snowstorm our E and F Companies launched an attack to take and secure the La Roche Road. No tank support. The snow was too deep and the terrain too difficult for them. An F Company patrol secured the vital crossroads where the La Roche Road and the Houffalize Road met. This feat had deprived the enemy of the only two first-rate roads to the east, and has been considered the turning point of the Ardennes operations. The enemy had been taken completely by surprise.

It was near here that a patrol of eight of us were sent to bring in a group of about 35 or 40 German prisoners being held by two GIs. I was the third man, sent along as interpreter. We waded through waist deep snow for some distance and then onto bare ground which had been blown clear. The Lieutenant, in the lead, saw the Germans just inside a grove of pine trees and started into the grassy area.. There was an explosion and I felt a puff-of air on my face. The sergeant two steps ahead of me had stepped on a German Shu mine and lost his foot. I backed out; the lieutenant re-traced his steps and got out. What to do? He ordered two of the biggest men to get the sergeant out. There was another explosion and another foot gone, while the third man had shrapnel up and down his right side. The second man was laughing. He was going back to a nice warm hospital bed. The lieutenant called for a jeep and they were all taken back to the Battalion Aid Station.