11 March 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

11 March, 1945      0930

Germany

Dearest sweetheart –

An early start on another Sunday morning in Godforsaken Germany. It does my heart good to see the present servility of these people of the Master-race as they drift back to their homes and ask permission to look for this or that and take it with them. I’m called over on all cases as interpreter and when they hear me speak – they jabber on and on about how they didn’t want Hitler, that they’re not Nazis, that they have an uncle or grandmother in Chicago etc. It makes me sick and I tell them I’ve been in Germany about 3½ months and haven’t been able to meet one Nazi – and yet the whole world’s fighting them. They usually get the point then and shut up. As far as I’m concerned they’re all bastards and responsible for my being here.

Today is not exactly a Holiday and yet there’s to be some sort of parade in the big city which you’ve been reading about the past few days. Our outfit – or part of it – is to represent AA of Corps – which is a distinction of one sort or another. I don’t know why they bother to have things like that in the middle of a war – unless it’s to impress the populace. We were supposed to parade after the fall of Cherbourg – but the whole thing was called off at the last minute for some reason not clear to me.

The Colonel got back yesterday – after having had a 7 days’ Leave in London. He flew over and back – leaving from Liège. He seemed to have had a good time and said that London was much more loose and fancy-free than a year ago.

I’ve just re-read your letter of 25 February telling me of the grand day you spent together with Phil and Florence. It was nice of them to have you out with them and it sounded like a swell time – Copley, Ritz, Mayfair – gosh they seem so far away, it’s unbelievable. You get so used to 3 meals a day, drinking liquor raw out of a bottle, wearing the same khaki clothes, no tie, seeing the same all around you – why you just forget about music and dancing and waiters and tablecloths. But it’s going to be so easy to remember again! Don’t get me wrong, darling, I’m not missing that – any of it – except you. And I’m not going to miss it just so long as this war’s on over here. By the way – who were all those Joes you were dancing with? To quote you “as if I’d be jealous!” I hope they didn’t hold you too closely. They’d better not have – because they’ll have me to reckon with once I get back! But I am glad you had a good day and evening and I think it must have done you a lot of good.

Speaking of khaki clothes, Greg received the following rations
on 11 March 1945:

[CLICK TO ENLARGE]


Front and Back

I enjoyed your letter telling me about your dream – and me in it, too! It sounded like a natural enough homecoming, sweetheart, and I’m ready for it anytime. I sure wish it were me you were clutching when you awoke instead of that pillow – but it will be I some day! And of course our conversation would be about marriage, and plans etc – rather than about war. I think most of us will be willing to forget about that pronto!

And so now you’re robbing the cradle, are you? Just another example of relativity. That is interesting, though. When you think of it – these young girls being afraid there’ll be no one around for them after the war. I don’t know about no one being around – but I’ll bet the boys will have a lot to pick from. But I don’t see why a girl in her early 20’s has to worry. Anyway, sweetheart, your story made me feel like a gay, young blade – which – in fact – I am!

Yes. I guess I don’t write the folks very much – albeit often. There isn’t a heck of a lot to tell and I certainly don’t discuss the war or any aspect of it with them. Most often – it’s a 3 or 4 line letter saying that all is well – which it is. You admire my disposition about the war, dear, – and I don’t see how anyone can be otherwise. I’ve felt always that it’s tough enough at home – so why make everyone feel worse by griping and complaining? That certainly helps no one and any s-o-b that does it ought to be ashamed of himself. Darling – I’ll save my griping for afterwards – that’s fairer – because then you can gripe right back at me if you have a mind to. Then I can challenge you to a wrestling match – and win of course – because anatomically speaking, I know some swell holds – not to mention certain vital tickling spots. Boy! Oh boy! What you’re in for!

And now I’ll be in for some hell if I don’t see a couple of soldiers on sick-call. So I’ll have to take off again, sweetheart, reminding you it’s only temporary. But my love for you is permanent and that’s what counts. Love to the folks, dear and

All my sincerest love,

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Bombing Essen
and the Story of the Krupp Munitions Family

The Krupp Munitions Plant after 11 March 1945 Bombing

From LIFE magazine, 4 June 1945, (Vol. 18, No. 23) came this:

A large body of the German munitions plants were located in Essen, a city of 650,000 a few miles north of the Rhine. The heart of this bod was the Krupp Works, Europe's biggest steel plant. Today the city and its heart are a mashed pulp. The picture above shows the center of the Krupp Compound, with wrecked steel mills (foreground) and blasted gas tanks (right background). Most of this damage was done by 500- and 1,000lb. bombs from high altitudes. Despite the raids Alfred Krupp recently claimed his factories were working 50% of capacity until 11 March 1945. On this date 1,000 United States Air Force bombers plastered Essen so thoroughly that even the water supply was cut off. When Americans entered the city seven of Krupp's former 200,000 workers were left in the plant.

So what of the Krupp family?

Published on 5 April 1982 an article in People magazine, (Vol. 17, No. 13), reported this:

Arndt Krupp von Bohlen und Halbach's name evokes images of war and devastation. But the 44-year-old heir to the once-dread munitions empire, is the first Krupp in 171 years to voluntarily lay down his arms. In 1966 Krupp, who has the dubious distinction of being Adolf Hitler's honorary godson, renounced his $500 million inheritance along with the right to take over the Krupp cannon works turned global conglomerate. "I wanted nothing to do with this company," sniffs Arndt. "My father sacrificed his life for work and died a twice-divorced, depressed billionaire. I'm not like him, and I was not interested in his business."

Arndt Krupp

The family began dealing in weapons 11 generations ago in 1587 with a gun-selling store in the Ruhr Valley. Arndt's great-great-grandfather, Alfred ("the Cannon King"), supplied Kaiser Wilhelm armies during the Franco-Prussian War of 1870. Fearing that his workers might organize, Alfred hired an agent to inspect used toilet paper for seditious notes. His son, Fritz, a pudgy sybarite, pyramided Krupp into a world industrial power. When he wasn't building steelworks, Fritz staged Black Masses and homosexual orgies in which skyrockets were fired to celebrate orgasms. When his wife protested, he had her locked up in an asylum. When the scandal broke in the German press, Kaiser Wilhelm II rushed to his support. But it was too late—Fritz committed suicide.

Friedrich Alfred Krupp
"Felix" (1854-1902)

Alfred Krupp (1812 - 1837)
Arndt's Great-Great-Grandfather

Alfred's daughter, Bertha, inherited the cannonry in 1902 but needed a consort. Hand-picked by the Kaiser, a Prussian diplomat, Gustav von Bohlen und Halbach, was granted the right to use the Krupp name and pass it on to his eldest son. In 1945, not long after Gustav suffered a stroke, that son, Alfried, was arrested and later stood trial at Nuremberg. The Krupp empire was confiscated, and Alfried was sentenced to serve 12 years for the exploitation of some 100,000 people as slave laborers—most of them Jews, many of them women and children. "As a small boy, I went to boarding school near Landsberg Prison so I could see my father," Arndt recalls. "He was unhappy and suffered for crimes committed by Gustav. But my father had no choice. His country was at war, and Hitler told him to make munitions. He had to do it."

Gustav and Berta
Arndt's Grandparents

Alfried Krupp
Arndt's Father

Arndt and his mother, whom Alfried had deserted on Gustav's order a few years after their marriage (she was considered too bourgeois to be first lady of Kruppdom), lived hand-to-mouth and were considered pariahs until Alfried's sentence was commuted in 1951 and the company was restored to him. Graduating in the mid-'50s from a Swiss prep school where "boys beat me up because I was a Krupp," Arndt began flaunting his new wealth. He bedecked his playmates, male and female, with lavish jewelry (including a $94,000 Cartier diamond ring) and invited them aboard his 102-foot mahogany yacht, Antinous II, named for the favorite young page of the Roman Emperor Hadrian. "I have a lot of nice lady friends, but I don't exclude the company of men," says Arndt. "I enjoy beauty in every respect, whether it be male or female. In Europe that makes you a playboy."

In 1966, the year Arndt graduated from the University of Cologne, the Krupps hired a Munich public relations man to repair Arndt's image with columnists who had portrayed him as an arrogant Apollo. Finally, in 1969, Arndt decided to marry Princess Henriette "Hettie" von Auersperg of Austria's royal family. These days the couple maintain what Arndt calls "a close friendship" but choose to live apart. Says he: "I love my wife, but we each have strong character traits we need to be alone with.

"My mother has been the closest person to me," Arndt adds. "She was abandoned. I share that with her. It is something special between us." He supervises a staff of 27 servants at his Palm Beach mansion and the family's 84-room Blühnbach Castle in Austria, a 38-room Moroccan palace in Marrakesh and an apartment in Munich.

Through philanthropy, Arndt hopes to redeem his family's tarnished name and give his life meaning. "I want to spend more time in Thailand with underprivileged youth," he says. "I give half a million dollars a year to charity, so I don't feel as bad about spending $100,000 for a car or a piece of jewelry. It soothes the conscience of extravagance."

The Krupp fortune was built in the Franco-Prussian War and two world wars. Forced by the Allies to get out of the weapons business after World War II, the firm, which became a public corporation by 1968, now sells trucks, tools, toys, ships, steel and cement mixers. So why wouldn't the last heir (he has no siblings or offspring) want to rule over the kingdom? "For all my family's money," says the delicate, soft-spoken Arndt, "it didn't always bring them happiness."

Arndt is hardly suffering for his decision. At 28, he began to receive an allowance of $250,000 a year. That figure doubled when his father, Alfried, died a year later. After Arndt spurned a career with the firm, the senior Krupp willed his personal $3.5 billion fortune to a German philanthropic foundation and created a private income for his high-living son, who Alfried knew would never work. In addition to his allowance, Arndt receives a 2.5 percent royalty on each ton of coal produced by a former Krupp mine, plus a percentage of the profits from family-owned supermarkets and hotels in Munich and worldwide real estate holdings. Arndt's worth: "Maybe $80 million, maybe more. I'm not sure."

Two years ago Krupp plunked down a reported $1.5 million for the 26-room Palm Beach villa he now shares with his mother, Annelise. "I hate Germany," he huffs. "I must hide my wealth there. People threw rotten eggs at my Rolls-Royce and made fun of me when I wore expensive jewels." He claims things like that don't happen in Palm Beach—one reason he is applying for U.S. citizenship. "America is the last bastion of freedom," declares the man whose father armed Hitler's war machine. "Society here seems to accept me."

In that belief, he just spent $2.5 million renovating his mansion, including the cheeky task of moving the swimming pool from one side of the house to the other. "He has a wonderful sense of humor," says his Palm Beach chum Ann Light, fourth wife of J. Paul Getty. Chimes in millionaire neighbor Robert D.L. Gardiner: "He's fascinating, well-read and a brilliant conversationalist."

As mentioned in the People article, Arndt married Princess Henrietta von Auersperg on February 14, 1969. What the article did not say was that despite this, Arndt was notoriously homosexual. In 1986, four years after the article was written, Arndt - being an alcoholic for a long time - died in his castle in Salzburg of jaw cancer at the age of 48. He was deeply in debt.

10 March 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

10 March, 1945      1000

Germany

Dearest darling Wilma –

Well I wrote you a short V-mail last night because I was tired and it was late. But here it is another day, dear, and I’m off to a good start. I got 2 V-mails yesterday and an air mail. The former – 20, 21 Feb, the latter – 24 Feb – so you can see – the V-mail is again a bit slower. I’ve already heard from you by air mail – as of 28 February.

Your one V-mail mentioned a Freedman family in Salem. I did know a Mrs. Freedman and a daughter there. But I believe the daughter married a fellow I once knew at Harvard – Arnie Dane. I don’t know the other daughter – or at least I can’t remember. And it wasn’t professionally – either – that I knew them. They happened to be one of the few Jewish families I knew in my early days in Salem. But I never got to known them very well.

I was glad to read my letter to the girls had arrived and that they enjoyed it. It was nice of them to write – in the first place.

Gee I was so glad to read in your letter of 24 February about the 2 packages arriving. I don’t know just how many I’ve sent out – but I’m certain there are several more on the way. I suppose I should jot them down as I send them out and then check them – but that would be too methodical. A lot of the stuff I send you undoubtedly can be classified as junk, darling, and I realize that. But I see something – it hits me as being something to remember after the war, and I ship it off. You’ll probably have a closet full before the war’s over – but put it aside and we’ll throw out what you want to afterwards, O.K.?

So you think I’ll use the toilet set on out honeymoon, do you? Could be, dear. It really is a nice one – and what surprised me was that the woman who sent it – was a visitor to Salem; I treated her twice and never saw her again because she returned to Chicago where she lives. She also sent some candy. I wrote and thanked her and she has since written me asking me what I would like she and her husband to send me. I don’t understand it.

I’m so glad you think that the “German portfolio” I sent you is not just another book. I thought not myself; actually I’m sure it’s rare and that there are few of them around. You made no comment about it’s source or ownership. I carried it along with me ever since late August when we were in France. It comes from the same place our clock came from. You may or may not have noticed that the signature in the front of the book is that of the owner of the place we visited. If I ever hear of his whereabouts after the war – I’ll see that he gets the thing back. The real story is that the day we passed by – the Maquis were running wild; the Germans had a headquarters in the place and had just been run out. The Maquis – who were really a pretty wild bunch – ransacked the place of many of its treasures. What I took would have been ruined. There were a thousand other things – but it was just impossible to take them. I think I did well with the 2 items I got.

I’m sorry you can’t read the German, dear. I’ve sent a couple of other things home to you – a couple of simply framed poems that are nice. One about “Mother” and another one about a man’s home. Oh yes. I sent a very interesting bell home to you with an inscription on it. It’s from the days of the Kaiser – made of silver and rather different. And I’ve sent some volumes – beautifully photographed – on the 1932 and 1936 Olympics. I’ve never seen anything like it and they’re worth having.

Two Sides of Silver Bell from Kaiser Days
  

Well – you got 4 letters from me the day you got 2 packages and you said they were full of spirit and were funny. That’s good, darling, I’m glad my letters are able to strike you that way. My sense of humor? If I haven’t lost it – I’m glad too. Sometimes I feel pretty sour – but damn it – that doesn’t help one bit and I’d just as soon see the funny side of things if I can.

I knew you wouldn’t like the news about Sgt. Freeman. I hated to write it but I felt I had to. Yes – I liked him; he was dependable, steady and a good soldier. He must have written that himself – but he was more seriously wounded than he implied. He’ll be coming home – as he said. His sister wrote me – or did I tell you already? She wanted details – and I just couldn’t give them to her. That is one of the things the Army is extremely strict about. It was a difficult letter for me to answer.

Hell – I’m getting worried about your not receiving those 20 odd photos I sent you. I hope they weren’t taken out by a censor – although by now – you probably have them – I hope.

It was sweet of you to worry about my reaction to my Aunt Mollie’s death. I was taken aback when I first heard she was ill and what her illness was. Lawrence was the first to mention it. When I realized Ca [cancer] was the Dx [diagnosis] – I knew of course that the sooner the better. In recent years I saw her rarely although many members of the family played up to her constantly because of her wealth. We never did that in my family. I don’t suppose she visited us or we her 10 times in the past 5 years. She was a good scout, though, and a very striking woman, I always thought.

Yes – if the opportunity came for a trip home – for 1 day – not 30 – I’d grab it! Regardless of the heartache of having to come back – it would be worth it to me. Incidentally – I believe I told you about a friend of mine, M.C. who was 2 yrs overseas and finally sent home not long ago – reassigned, not rotated. I heard from him yesterday. He first got a leave, and since then he’s been kicked around to N.Car., Florida, Georgia and he’s now at Ft. Sill, Oklahoma. He’s a bit fed up and glad to be in the States, of course. His home is in Conn. I wouldn’t mind – so much – because so long as I was in the States and there to stay – we could be married and travel about together. My – that would be fun! Getting married, Yum! Yum! Well – we will, sweetheart – no fear about that. Just keep loving me as I love you and all will be fine. Have to close now, dear. Be with you again tomorrow. My love to the folks – and

All my deepest love,

Greg

P.S. Naturally this outfit is in everything –

L,G.

"If You Still Have a Mother"

CLICK TO ENLARGE

If you still have a mother, so thank God and be content; not all on earth have this great fortune. If you still have a mother, you need to care about her with love, so that she can lay her tired head to rest in peace.

She has lived from the first day for you with fearful concerns. She brought you to bed at night, and woke you up in the morning. And when you were sick, she took care of the one she gave life with deep pains. And when all gave you up, your mother didn’t declare you lost.

She taught you the holy prayer, she first taught you talking; she put your hands together and taught you to pray to the Father (God). She guided your childhood, she guarded your youth years. Thank (only) your mother if you still follow the path of virtue.

And if you don’t have a mother any more, and you can’t make her happy any more, you still can decorate her early grave with flowers. A mother’s grave, a holy grave, for you an ever holy place! Oh, go to this place, if a wave of life pushes you over.

Author: Friedrich Wilhelm Kaulisch

* TIDBIT *

about Building More Bridges
and Attempts to Destroy Them

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, Chapter XI, page 227, published in 1973 in Washington, D.C. comes this excerpt:

At the bridge site, concentrated efforts were made from the start toward supplementing the Ludendorff railroad bridge. One of the first units to arrive for the purpose was Naval Unit No. 1, a U.S. Navy force with twenty-four LCVP's (landing craft, vehicle and personnel) that had been attached to the First Army for some months in anticipation of the Rhine crossings. Also quick to arrive was an engineer unit of the III Corps, the 86th Engineer Heavy Pontoon Battalion, with orders to operate three ferries, one well north of the Ludendorff Bridge, one close to the bridge at Remagen, and the third well south of the bridge. As assembled by the engineers, the rafts were made of five pontoons covered with wooden flooring. Used as free ferries propelled by 22-hp. outboard motors, the craft began to operate as early as the morning of 9 March. The ferries and LCVP's were augmented on 14 March by ducks (2½-ton amphibious trucks) of the 819th Amphibious Truck Company.

Survey teams of the 1111th and 1159th Engineer Combat Groups, scheduled to build tactical bridges across the Rhine, reached Remagen during the morning of 8 March. Because of road priorities granted at first to infantry units and engineers who were to operate ferries, the bridging units themselves began to move to the river only during the night of 9 March. Construction of the first bridge, a treadway from Remagen to Erpel, began early on 10 March 1945.

Although jammed roads leading to Remagen continued to hamper bridge construction, the most serious delays derived from German artillery fire and air attacks. During 8 and 9 March, the Germans maintained an average rate of one shell every two minutes in the vicinity of the bridge sites, but by 10 March, their fire had fallen off to four or five rounds per hour. Artillery fire during the course of construction of the Remagen treadway bridge destroyed four cranes, two Brockway trucks, two air compressors, three dump trucks, and thirty-two floats.

Exhortation to the Luftwaffe to strike and strike again was one of the few immediate steps Field Marshal Kesselring could take toward eliminating the Ludendorff Bridge after he assumed command in the west on 10 March. He conferred that day with senior Luftwaffe commanders, urging them to knock out the bridge and any auxiliary bridges the Americans might construct.

From 8 through 16 March, the Luftwaffe tried. The German planes struck at the railroad bridge, at the ferries, and at the tactical bridges, but with no success. Whenever the weather allowed, American planes flying cover over the bridgehead interfered; even when the German pilots got through the fighter screen, they ran into a dense curtain of antiaircraft fire. When they tried a stratagem of sending slow bombers in the lead to draw the antiaircraft fire, then following with speedy jet fighters, the Americans countered by withholding part of their fire until the jets appeared. American antiaircraft units estimated that during the nine days they destroyed 109 planes and probably eliminated 36 others out of a total of 367 that attacked.

The Germans tried to destroy the railroad bridge by three additional means. First, soon after losing the bridge, they brought up a tank-mounted 540-mm. piece called the Karl Howitzer. The weapon itself weighed 132 tons and fired a projectile of 4,400 pounds, but after only a few rounds that did no damage except to random houses, the weapon had to be evacuated for repairs. Second, from 12 through 17 March a rocket unit with weapons located in the Netherlands fired eleven supersonic V-2's in the direction of the bridge, the first and only tactical use of either of the so-called German V-weapons during World War II. One rocket hit a house 300 yards east of the bridge, killing three American soldiers and wounding fifteen. That was the only damage. Three landed in the river not far from the bridge, five others west of the bridge, and one near Cologne; one was never located.

The night of 16 March, the Germans tried a third method - seven underwater swimmers in special rubber suits and carrying packages of plastic explosive compound - but from the first the Americans had anticipated such a gambit. During the first few days of the bridgehead, before nets could be strung across the river, they dropped demolition charges to discourage enemy swimmers and stationed riflemen at intervals along the railroad bridge to fire at suspicious objects. Later, with nets in place, they stationed tanks equipped with searchlights along the river. [In fact, part of the 438th AAA Aw (Mobile) Battalion helped move those searchlights to the Remagen Bridgehead and helped set them up.]

When the German swimmers first tried to reach the bridge, American artillery fire discouraged them from entering the water. On the next night, the 17th, they moved not against the railroad bridge but against tactical pontoon bridges, only to be spotted by the American searchlights. Blinded by the lights, the seven Germans, one by one,surrendered.

09 March 1945

V-MAIL

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

9 March, 1945      1900

Germany

Hello darling!

Just a shortie this evening to tell you I love you, miss you, want you and need you. Have been out all day and I’m a little tired but I’ll be O.K. in an hour or two.

About your V-Mails – I enjoy them and it’s swell of you to write so often. Up to about 2 months ago they seemed to arrive earlier than air mail – or so the fellows said. Recently – the reverse seems true – but it’s never the same from month to month.

All else is O.K. sweetheart, and I’ll write you a regular letter tomorrow. Will you excuse this one? I thought it better than no note at all – and anyway I wanted you to know I love you strongly!

All my love for now, dear

Greg

Love to the folks.

L.G.

* TIDBIT *

about The Firebombing of Tokyo

B-29 Firebombing Tokyo on 9 March 1945

From The History Channel's This Day in History comes this:

On 9 March 1945, U.S. warplanes launched a new bombing offensive against Japan, dropping 2,000 tons of incendiary bombs on Tokyo over the course of the subsequent 48 hours. Almost 16 square miles in and around the Japanese capital were incinerated, and between 80,000 and 130,000 Japanese civilians were killed in the worst single firestorm in recorded history. Temperatures reached 1,000° C (1,899° F). Over a million residents lost their homes.

Early on March 9, Air Force crews met on the Mariana Islands of Tinian and Saipan for a military briefing. They were planning a low-level bombing attack on Tokyo that would begin that evening, but with a twist: Their planes would be stripped of all guns except for the tail turret. The decrease in weight would increase the speed of each Superfortress bomber - and would also increase its bomb load capacity by 65 percent, making each plane able to carry more than seven tons of various incendiary explosives, including white phosphorus and napalm, a new gasoline-based, fuel-gel mixture... "You're going to deliver the biggest firecracker the Japanese have ever seen," said U.S. Gen. Curtis LeMay. In fact, the death toll from the March 9-10 bombing exceeded that of the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and of Nagasaki.

CLICK TO ENLARGE

 
B-29s Pass Mount Fuji on the way to
Tokyo for Firebombing on 9 March 1945

The cluster bombing of the downtown Tokyo suburb of Shitamachi had been approved only a few hours earlier. Shitamachi was composed of roughly 750,000 people living in cramped quarters in wooden-frame buildings. Setting ablaze this "paper city" was a kind of experiment in the effects of firebombing; it would also destroy the light industries, called "shadow factories," that produced prefabricated war materials destined for Japanese aircraft factories.

Cluster Bombing Tokyo on 9 March 1945

The denizens of Shitamachi never had a chance of defending themselves. Their fire brigades were hopelessly undermanned, poorly trained, and poorly equipped. At 5:34 pm, Superfortress B-29 bombers took off from Saipan and Tinian, reaching their target at 12:15 a.m. on March 10. Three hundred and thirty-four bombers, flying in streams 400 miles long at a mere 500 feet, dropped their loads, creating a giant bonfire fanned by 30-knot winds that helped raze Shitamachi and spread the flames throughout Tokyo. Masses of panicked and terrified Japanese civilians scrambled to escape the inferno, most unsuccessfully. The human carnage was so great that the blood-red mists and stench of burning flesh that wafted up sickened the bomber pilots, forcing them to grab oxygen masks to keep from vomiting.

Tokyo in Flames from Bombing of 9 March 1945

The raid lasted slightly longer than three hours. "In the black Sumida River, countless bodies were floating, clothed bodies, naked bodies, all black as charcoal. It was unreal," recorded one doctor at the scene. The "only" 243 American airmen were considered acceptable losses.

"The Original Yesterdays Weapons" site posted on its page called The Tokyo Fire Raids, 1945 this eyewitness account by Robert Guillain, a French reporter, as written in his book I Saw Tokyo Burning (1985):

They set to work at once sowing the sky with fire. Bursts of light flashed everywhere in the darkness like Christmas trees lifting their decorations of flame high into the night, then fell back to earth in whistling bouquets of jagged flame. Barely a quarter of an hour after the raid started, the fire, whipped by the wind, began to scythe its way through the density of that wooden city.

The fire front advanced so rapidly that police often did not have time to evacuate threatened blocks even if a way out were open. And the wind, carrying debris from far away, planted new sprouts of fire in unexpected places. Firemen from the other half of the city tried to move into the inferno or to contain it within its own periphery, but they could not approach it except by going around it into the wind, where their efforts were useless or where everything had already been incinerated. The same thing happened that had terrorized the city during the great fire of 1923: ...under the wind and the gigantic breath of the fire, immense, incandescent vortices rose in a number of places, swirling, flattening sucking whole blocks of houses into their maelstrom of fire.

Evacuees Far Enough Away to Escape

Wherever there was a canal, people hurled themselves into the water; in shallow places, people waited, half sunk in noxious muck, mouths just above the surface of the water. Hundreds of them were later found dead; not drowned, but asphyxiated by the burning air and smoke. In other places, the water got so hot that the luckless bathers were simply boiled alive. Some of the canals ran directly into the Sumida; when the tide rose, people huddled in them drowned. In Asakusa and Honjo, people crowded onto the bridges, but the spans were made of steel that gradually heated; human clusters clinging to the white-hot railings finally let go, fell into the water and were carried off on the current. Thousands jammed the parks and gardens that lined both banks of the Sumida. As panic brought ever fresh waves of people pressing into the narrow strips of land, those in front were pushed irresistibly toward the river; whole walls of screaming humanity toppled over and disappeared in the deep water. Thousands of drowned bodies were later recovered from the Sumida estuary.

Sirens sounded the all-clear around 5 A.M. - those still working in the half of the city that had not been attacked; the other half burned for twelve hours more. I talked to someone who had inspected the scene an March 11. What was most awful, my witness told me, was having to get off his bicycle every couple of feet to pass over the countless bodies strewn through the streets. There was still a light wind blowing and some of the bodies, reduced to ashes, were simply scattering like sand. In many sectors, passage was blocked by whole incinerated crowds."

Some of the Remains of Tokyo from the Air (above)
and on the Ground (below)

08 March 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

8 March, 1945      0930

Germany

Dearest darling Wilma –

Mirabile dictu! – or I don’t believe it – but yesterday I actually received a letter from you post-marked and written 28 February. After the long waiting periods for letters – hearing from you one week after you wrote a letter is amazing and wonderful. It’s strange how the nearness of a date can make you seem so near. It makes me angry when I realize that mail can reach us so quickly and yet takes 4 and 5 weeks sometimes. By the way – I can’t seem to remember what date I used on the letter I wrote you yesterday, darling; it seems to me I used the 6th instead of the 7th – or it may have been the letter I wrote home.

Well, sweetheart, what can I tell you that’s news from this part of the world? Oh – that reminds me – dear; you always refer to my being 3000 miles away. It seems to me it’s even farther than that; if it isn’t actually – it feels that way anyway. Just a point, just a point. Well there isn’t a heck of a lot of news except war news and that as you know is good. It was a quiet day here most of the day and in the late evening we played a little Black Jack and Poker – the first time in a long while. I won about 100 francs. Incidentally – we get paid in Belgian francs now rather than the previous – U.S. marks. The latter were no good to us because we couldn’t buy anything in Germany anyway, and when we got back to Belgium – we had to convert.

I found your letter of 26 February, dear, extremely interesting. It was written after you had read my mail to you of the month of January and you told me about my experiences as you interpreted them, when you thought I moved – etc. Actually – we moved more there than you believed we did. You were right about the rotten month we had. It was – but it could have been worse. And your ‘moody’ letters of late December – didn’t worry me, really, dear. I understood how you felt – and I don’t expect you to be cheery all of the time. I know that’s impossible.

You still have trouble visualizing the part A.A – or rather this Battalion is playing in the war. I can’t help that, dear. If you’re confused – it’s because our own particular missions vary from time to time – and because all A.A. over here or anywhere – don’t do the same thing. You say the pictures of my activities is meager and yet I feel I tell you quite a bit. I can’t for the life of me see the point in my writing to you about tactics, maneuvers etc. – which – in the first place is strictly forbidden, and which secondly – even if not – would not help you stand the war one bit easier. If it’s tactics you want sweetheart, I’ll give you all the dope I know after the war – until it comes out of your ears!

You mention receiving more pictures, dear – I’d almost forgotten all about the batch I sent you. How many did you finally receive? I think I sent out something like 23 or 24 or 25. File them away with the rest, dear. We ought to have quite a few before we’re through. You have some from England, too, haven’t you? I’ve already got 3-4 more rolls ready for developing – but I don’t know where or when –

As for Admiral – he was a cute trick. We had him for about 4-5 mos. altogether. Before this last push – he got a bit sick and we left him with some Germans. We just didn’t have the medicine or time to look after him. I hated to leave him – but we couldn’t help it.

And I’m glad you found out about the Birthday cake and how nicely your surprise really worked. It really had me puzzled but I enjoyed it tremendously. It was interesting to note that the Field Director wrote his rather full address – a no no, dear – you should know – if you didn’t already – what Army and what Corps we’re with.

I didn’t mean to bring up the subject of age difference – dear. I don’t fear it either and as a matter of fact – it rarely enters my mind now – although, frankly, it used to. But the best and most important factor was that I never once was aware of it when I was with you – riding, talking, dancing, kissing. I always felt we clicked together – and I know that’s what counts most.

Yes – I heard from Lawrence yesterday as of 17 February. He didn’t actually say he had applied for overseas duty....

[LETTER IS MISSING ANY SUBSEQUENT PAGE(S)…]

* TIDBIT *

about Bonn, Beethoven and Another Bridge

Bonn is the 19th largest city in Germany. Located in the Cologne/Bonn Region, about 15 miles south of Cologne its history dates back to Roman times. In about 11 BC, the Roman Army appears to have stationed a small unit in what is presently the historical center of the town. Even earlier, the Army had resettled members of a Germanic tribal group allied with Rome, the Ubii, in Bonn. The Latin name for that settlement, "Bonna", may stem from the original population of this and many other settlements in the area, the Eburoni.

Bonn's most famous son, Ludwig van Beethoven, was born in 1770 in a house that is now a museum with many original artifacts including the great man's grand piano. The Beethoven Monument, a large bronze statue which stands on the Münsterplatz, was unveiled on 12 August 1845, in honor of the 75th anniversary of the composer's birth.

CLICK TO ENLARGE

When the Münsterplatz was bombed, Beethoven was untouched


Beethoven today, showing buildings on his right


Münsterplatz today

On 8 March 1945 the First Infantry Division was continuing its attack to the east, with its main objective the capture of the City of Bonn. In the late afternoon of March 8th, elements of the 3rd Battalion, 18th Infantry, cleared the town of Ollekoven, and also attacked into Bonn. By the end of the day, elements of the 16th and 18th Infantry were fighting in the streets of Bonn. Stiff resistance was encountered both on the outskirts and in the city, and over 1,000 prisoners were taken. Contact was maintained between the 1st Infantry Division and the 8th Infantry Division. At 8:30 P.M. the 3rd Armored Division joined the First Infantry Division and assembled in the vicinity of Liblar.

The Rhine Bridge, the only exit for the Germans, was a touch and go affair. Several German prisoners reported that they had seen the bridge prepared for demolition, and most of them were surprised that the bridge had not been blown already. The bridge was blown at 9:15 pm, 8 March 8 1945, by a Captain of the 6th (German) Engineer Regiment (later captured by the First Division), who had not slept for three days worrying over whether he would be able to blow the bridge at precisely the right moment. He succeeded admirably.

Soon after the destruction ferries, boats and some truck ferries transferred goods and people between both sides. From 29 August 1945, on Bonn's Committee for Urban Planning, the "Bauausschuss", dealt with the construction of a new bridge and released the plans in March 1946. In September 1946 Grün and Bilfinger started with the construction. The bridge was built on the nearly intact pillows within 36 months. On 12 November 1949 the new bridge was opened. On December 2, 1963, just ten days after the assassination of U.S. President John F. Kennedy the bridge was renamed to "Kennedy Bridge". Necessary reconstruction and widening of the bridge was begun in 2006 and is now complete.

Print of Rhine Bridge as it Looked in 1945


Photo of Rhine Bridge in 1920


Kennedy Bridge Today

07 March 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

7 March, 1945      0930

Germany

My dearest darling –

Our set-up remains luxurious and I hope we stay put for a couple of days more anyway. We’ve got our power plant hooked up to the wiring in this house – so we have electricity. Yesterday – one of my sergeants did some scouting around and brought back a fancy boudoir or bed lamp – just for a gag. But before we were thru – we had it wired up, plugged in and working – so actually, sweetheart, I read in bed – and didn’t have to get out to turn the light out. Now if that isn’t the way to fight a war – I’d like to know a better way.

Another funny thing happened. I passed by the kitchen i.e. the kitchen in the house the medics are occupying – and there on the table – were 5 freshly killed chickens! I can’t conceive where they came from – but I can figure out that 5 divided by ten (that’s all there are of us here) gives ½ and that’s just what we’ll have – ½ chicken per man – either for dinner or supper today. My! My! And my one sergeant who likes to cook – insists on frying the chickens, having French fries, fried potatoes – and – while he’s boiling the chickens to make them soft – he likes to make chicken soup. Oh – well – we can stand it.

But sweetheart – we’re – or I’m missing the dessert. Couldn’t you possibly fit in? I’d keep you all to myself of course. I sure could do with a bit of you, you know – as the main dish, as a matter of fact – but now I’m straying. Gosh, darling, a little loving would go good right now – wouldn’t it though!

I got mail yesterday. Three letters from you, dear – 2 airmail (23 and 26 Feb) and the V-mail undated. Now that’s the 2nd time you’ve done that! I also heard from Eleanor – thanking me for the gift – which she seemed to like very much; there was a letter – or a short novel I should say from Barbara Tucker. It was an 8 page typewritten letter and she does that about every 4-5 months, bringing me up to date with her Navy career, wanderings, and news of Salem. She’s doing research work for the Navy at G.E. in Schenectady – and doesn’t care for the set-up. She wanted to know about you – or us, and someday I’ll have to sit down and write her a letter. She tells me about her love affairs, etc. and writes a generally amusing letter.

1045

A slight delay, dear, to see a couple of patients. Now I can get started again. Well. I got one more letter and I didn’t enjoy it. It was from the sister of Sgt. Freeman – the boy in my detachment who was injured some time ago. They finally got the sad news that he was seriously injured and they’d hear more later. They found the waiting unbearable and so she wrote me asking for details. The sad part is that that is strictly taboo in the Army and I just can’t tell her the details of how it happened and how badly he was hit. But I wrote her anyway and told her he was alive and would stay so. I couldn’t do any more – but believe me, dear, it was very difficult writing that letter.

Your letter of 23 February, written the day before, was interesting. You were making a strong attempt to know me better than you think you know me – and wondering if you were succeeding. It was in answer to a previous letter of mine – defending my – shall I say – morale-building letters? Darling – as you say – a moody letter, an occasional sad sentence etc. – is best left alone and not taken apart. I do that most of the time, I think – and I know you do too. I don’t think you’ve complained about things half as much as you could have – and I love you for your spirit. If you have been moody for days at a time – I haven’t been aware of it – honestly. You cover up well. As for me – dear – I insist. I just don’t stay moody long. It was always that way with me. Oh – I just don’t brush things off and forget about them. I never did; I’m too introspective for that, but I always tried to rationalize, to temporize, to look for a bright spot. I end up sometimes clinging on a very tenuous support, but it helps and usually it’s enough to see you through a dark period. I’m not referring only to war time. I was always that way, dear. Maybe it’s a good policy, maybe not; in reality – it’s not a policy – it’s a person’s nature – and I guess I’m of that nature. I don’t think I overdo it – because that would be child-like. But it does help, dear. And I’m not trying to pull the wool over your eyes. I just can’t write you discouraging letters – when you’ve got enough to be discouraged about yourself. Damn it – I’m cheery naturally, and I’m not going to let Hitler, his arms or the goddamned war change me. I hope you won’t think from that that I’m irresponsible. I think I see things clearly enough most of the time – and I know I can be serious when I have to be. Yet I’m glad you feel you’re knowing me better – despite being away. I feel the same way about you – and more and more. I’m learning to love you with greater depth and appreciation. I know we’re meant for each other, sweetheart, and I’m sure we’ll be happy together. We’re going to be married and have all the things we both want and I feel that I’m just the guy to do it for you.

And with that cock-sure note – I’ll start to close. We need a little more patience, a little more courage – and continued love. I think we have all that.

For now, dear, so long. Love to the folks; I hope Mother B is continuing to feel better.

All my everlasting love, darling

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about The Bridge at Remagen

The Ludendorff Bridge at Remagen was a railway bridge across the Rhine in Germany, connecting the villages of Remagen and Erpel between two ridge lines of hills flanking the river. Remagen is situated about 20km south of Bonn. Designed by Karl Wiener, the bridge was 325 meters long, with two rail lines and a walkway. Numerous nature activists protested against the construction, fearing that the beauty of the Rhine valley at this point would be destroyed. After it was finished the bridge was considered to be among the most beautiful bridges along the river Rhine.

During World War I, General Ludendorff had the bridge built by the Cologne-based company Grün and Bilfinger beginning in 1916 to connect the Right Rhine Railway, the Left Rhine Railway and the Autobahn in order to facilitate transport to the Western Front. Russian POWs were used during construction. The final result was a 4,642-ton bridge with one unique feature: on the Erpel side of the Rhine river it led into a 383m long tunnel through the mountain, "Erpeler Ley", which was carved for this very purpose. The excavation material was transported to the north side of the village in small lorries.

It was a key element of a planned strategic railway that was to start in Neuss, cross the Rhine at Remagen and connect with the Ahr Valley railway that connected with the Eiffel railway that has lines into Luxembourg and France. The advantage of such a line was that troops and supplies could be transported to the Western Front from the Ruhr industrial area without having to go through the busy rail centers of Cologne or Düsseldorf.

After its completion the bridge was named after General Ludendorff. The towers on the Rhine shore resembled fortresses. They were equipped with embrasures, troop accommodations, and storage rooms. The high plateaus on top of the towers provided for far-reaching surveillance. The bridge itself was easily and quickly converted for road and pedestrian use: wooden planks could cover up the railroad tracks. While intended as a logistics backbone before World War I, it only served as a retreat pathway for the beaten German Army in 1918.

In the first days of March 1945 the bridge was being equipped with planks just like in World War I. Preparations were taken to be able to destroy the bridge in case of an enemy attack. As a precautionary measure the charges were only to be deployed when the enemy was less than 8 km away. The bridge in Cologne-Mülheim had been destroyed accidentally because a bomb hit had set off the charges. This should not happen a second time.

The Germans had dutifully destroyed each bridge over the Rhine when Allied Forces approached, as had been done in Cologne. However, the Germans were surprised by the American forces at the bridge at Remagen, and had not yet blown it up. For their part, the Americans were surprised to find the bridge intact! But First Army's 9th Armored Division of III Corps took little time in taking advantage of their find.

The bridge was captured at around 16:30 on 7 March 1945 by a small vanguard of the 9th American Panther division under the command of Lieutenant K. H. Timmermann, and became the first bridgehead across the Rhine. Armored infantry fought their way across the bridge under intense enemy fire as the Germans attempted to destroy it with demolition charges. Several explosions damaged part of the bridge, but the main charges failed to fire and the bridge remained standing. Behind them followed Army engineers who quickly set about to defuse the still-remaining explosives and then make quick repairs on the decking. Working in the rain and under fire from Germans on the hilly countryside, engineers finished their quick-fixes by midnight, and shortly thereafter tanks and other heavy armor began pouring across the bridge, along with essential support troops.

U.S. Army Engineers Repair Ludendorff Bridge

Both sides then engaged in a race to reinforce the area which ultimately was won by the American who had much greater resources. The Americans captured the railway tunnel in the early hours of the following morning by passing over the hill and taking it from the rear.

In the days to follow, the Germans used every trick in the book to bring down the bridge, all to no avail. They were hindered by weak forces in the area and the Erpeler Ley hill which actually protected the bridge from attack from the east. Without the possibility of artillery spotting, attacks were much more difficult. Several attacks were made by the Luftwaffe with one bomb scoring a hit but failing to detonate. They sent floating mines down the river, hoping to destroy the bridge’s supports; German frogmen failed in their bid to plant explosives; and even V-2 rockets were fired at the bridge. The Germans also tried to pound the bridge with artillery, only to be met by murderous return fire by American forces.

AA Troops Protect Ludendorff Bridge at Remagen

The rough terrain on the eastern bank of the Rhine at Remagen made the region a less than ideal avenue for the invasion of Germany in Allied strategic planning. Nonetheless, the Allies seized the opportunity to transport troops, tanks, and vehicles across a bridge, rather than over the river by assault boats and pontoon bridges. Allied plans were quickly adjusted to take advantage of this coup. Because of the air attacks and the artillery fire, the engineers at the bridge site requested that smoke be employed, and requests were made of First US Army for a smoke generator unit. Because none was available at this time, however, smoke pots were gathered from all available sources. The 9th Armored Group was ordered to furnish CDLs (search lights mounted on tanks) to assist in protecting the bridge against floating mines, swimmers, riverboats, etc., and depth charges were dropped into the river at five-minute intervals during the night to discourage swimmers bent on demolishing the bridge. Meanwhile, thousands of men and vehicles poured onto the bridgehead that, although suffering repeated German counterattacks for a week, continued to expand east of the Rhine.

Troops Pouring Over the Ludendorff Bridge

Within a week of the first crossing of the Ludendorff Bridge, seven U.S. divisions had established themselves on the east side of the Rhine River. Forty thousand men crossed in ten days. Simultaneously, pontoon bridges were constructed for additional crossing ability. Then, at about 3 pm on 17 March 1945, a loud bang could be heard, followed by the thunder and rumbling of twisting iron. The Ludendorff, severely damaged in the fighting ten days earlier and weakened further from the strain of heavy traffic, collapsed into the Rhine. This happened so quickly that almost nobody was able to get away. 7 people died in the ice-cold water, 18 are still missing, and 66 were injured (of which 3 died later on). That day marked the end of the bridge, only 29 years after its construction.

Medics After Ludendorff Bridge Collapse

Having crossed the Rhine and established a beachhead, the Allied armies prepared to drive into the interior of Germany. Eisenhower changed previous plans and diverted supplies and forces to exploit the Remagen crossing, making it the point of departure for the decisive double encirclement of the Ruhr valley that captured more than 325,000 prisoners and ended organized enemy resistance.

The following video shows the unexpected capture of the bridge over the Rhine at Remagen by elements of US 7th Army, without losing a single man. How this occurred is told by some of those directly involved - both American and German.

06 March 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

6 March, 1945      1300

Germany

Dearest Sweetheart –

Well I feel much better today – normal in fact and I’m sure glad about that – because this is no time in which to be sick. I got a swell night’s sleep – in a bed if you please, dear – and I feel real chipper today. I’m just about settled again – and once more I have a nice room all to myself and with windows intact! It seems funny to be able to find such a spot – but we’ve been lucky. Windows are a peculiar thing, darling. You just don’t think much about them until you don’t see them for a long time – then you become acutely aware of them. It’s that way with most things I guess. Anyway – as you should gather – we’ve been pretty much on our toes as of late.

My present room was undoubtedly occupied by a female. There’s a white bureau in it and on a little ledge are several bottles – mostly empty – but the array includes some d’Orsay’s Eau de Lavende, a bottle of perfume with a Russian label, a bottle of Brilliantine aux fleurs – and a couple of cold cream jars. There’s a small end-table next to my bed that holds my radio on one side, and I have a pretty flower pot with pussy willows on the other end. These past few places were only recently inhabited by civilians of course and are therefore quite homelike. We move into a house – use the furniture we want and out goes everything else – thru the nearest exit. A lot of good stuff gets ruined thereby – but the war’s still on. You’ll have to watch me closely for awhile, sweetheart. If there’s an armchair, divan or table I don’t happen to fancy – I’ll be strongly tempted to heave it out of the nearest window – and that won’t look so nice in Salem – you know.

I haven’t had time to re-read some of your most recent letters, dear, but I did a little while ago. I came across the one that mentioned Florence’s episode at the Ritz. It made me furious – just reading it and I can well imagine how she must have felt. But it’s an old story in Boston. I can remember when I was at College and Med school too how I had to be the one to call the Copley for reservations of a Saturday nite. If Guralnick or Waitzkin or Levine called – they either got nowhere or got stuck in a corner. I usually had better luck, but it’s a damn shame – no matter how you look at it.

Say – I also came across your news about Leonard Salter and his being at a POE. And a medic! That’s really something. I’d say offhand, though, that of all places in the Army, he’ll probably fit best there. I wonder if he has really gone over. You know, darling, despite the hardship of having been away from you so long – I still don’t envy the boys who are sweating it out in the States now. Their prospects are tough as I see it. Whether they come to the E.T.O. or go to the Pacific they’ll run into so many troops that have so much more time then they, that it’s a sure bet they’ll be years in coming home. Even I have to worry about those boys who fought in Africa and Italy and have a year or so more time than I have. But they can’t take away the 16 months I already have with 9 months combat service. The latter, by the way – i.e. the amount of combat – is the more important of the two figures – and that’s increasing steadily. And except for a few old divisions over here – the African campaign group – this outfit has as much time or more than anybody else. No one seems to know what will happen after this phase is over – but it seems pretty definite that we’ll all get a crack at the U.S. and it also seems to me that our turn for that will come long before we’d get a chance to be rotated – if the war should continue.

Now how did I get onto that vein? In case you don’t know, darling, I’ll tell you. It’s because the one thought that obsesses me as much as the realization that I love you darling, – is the thought of getting home as soon as possible to show you that love, to make up to you all the lonely nights you’ve had to put up with on account of me. I guess I’ll never be able to repay you, sweetheart, for your thoughtfulness, constancy and devotion – but you can bet your last dime that I’ll be trying always. We’re going to be happy together, dear – very happy – because with our love for each other goes a deep appreciation of each other – and that is what counts most of all.

And enough for now, darling. Be well, dear and take care of yourself (especially on those splits!) Love to the folks – and

All my sincerest love and devotion

Greg

Route of the Question Mark


[CLICK TO ENLARGE]

(A) Kenten to (B)Konigsdorf, Germany (6.5 miles)
5 March to 6 March 1945

March 6... Konigsdorf. The Battery Commander prepared more road guides, a white question mark on a red background. The joke of the year: Pvt [Bernard M.] STEWART rushed into a room, breathless with excitement, exclaiming, "Hey, there's a harp next door!", and someone said "What the Hell do we want a harp for? No one in the Battery can blow it!" Here the jeep drivers gave an elaborate dinner for Capt [William S.] RENKIN and 1st Lt [Frederick C.] ABER.

* TIDBIT *

about the Cathedral and the Bridge

On 6 March 1945, the 3d Armored Division drove quickly through the heart of Cologne, a wasteland from long years of aerial bombardment, and reached the Hohenzollern Bridge, only to find a 1200-foot gap blown in it. Clarence Smoyer, E Co, 32nd A.R., 3rd Armored Division, gunner of the newly introduced M26 Pershing tank, recollects that when he was about a 15 minute drive away from the Hohenzollern Bridge he heard some massive explosions coming from the area that he later knew to be the bridge and "that must have been its demolition." The Hohenzollern Bridge was one of the most important bridges in Germany during World War II; even under consistent daily air strikes the bridge was not damaged badly. On 6 March 1945, German military engineers blew up the bridge when Allied troops started to conquer Cologne, so that the Allies could not follow them over the Rhine. Close by amid the sea of ruins stood the stately Cologne cathedral, damaged but basically intact.

The Hohenzollern Bridge had been constructed between 1907 and 1911 after the old bridge, the Cathedral Bridge (Dombrücke), had to be demolished. The Cathedral Bridge had been unable to handle the increasing traffic in Cologne. After being demolished by the Germans during the war, reconstruction was quickly organized; by May 8, 1948, the Hohenzollern Bridge was accessible by pedestrians again. Over the next eleven years the bridge was improved until by 1959 it was usable without any impairment. During the 1980s the bridge was renovated with two new tracks. The Hohenzollern Bridge now regularly has over 1200 trains pass through daily. The bridge is regarded as an important part of Cologne as it connects Cologne's central station with the major European cities on the other side of the Rhine. The total length of the Hohenzollern Bridge is 1,342.5 feet (409.19 meters).

The Hohenzollern Bridge "Then" (above) and "Now" (below)

The Cologne Cathedral construction began in 1248 and took, with interruptions, until 1880 to complete, roughly 600 years. It is 144.5 meters long, 86.5 m wide and its towers are approximately 157 m tall. The cathedral is one of the world's largest churches and the largest church in Northern Europe. For four years, 1880–84, it was the tallest structure in the world, until the completion of the Washington Monument. It has the second-tallest church spires, only surpassed by the single of Ulm Minster, completed 10 years later in 1890. Because of its enormous twin spires, it also presents the largest facade of any church in the world. The choir of the cathedral, measured between the piers, also holds the distinction of having the largest height to width ratio of any medieval church.

In 1996, the cathedral was added to the UNESCO World Heritage List of culturally important sites. In 2004 it was placed on the "World Heritage in Danger" list, as the only Western site in danger, due to plans to construct a high-rise building nearby, which would have visually impacted the site. The cathedral was removed from the List of In Danger Sites in 2006, following the authorities' decision to limit the heights of buildings constructed near and around the cathedral.

The cathedral suffered seventy hits by aerial bombs during World War II. It did not collapse, but stood tall in an otherwise flattened city. The great twin spires are said to have been used as an easily recognizable navigational landmark by Allied aircraft raiding deeper into Germany in the later years of the war, which may be a reason that the cathedral was not destroyed.

A U.S. Army Chaplain holds Mass in Cologne Cathedral
7 March 1945

The repairs to the building were completed in 1956. In the northwest tower's base, an emergency repair carried out in 1944 with bad-quality brick taken from a nearby war ruin remained visible until 2005 as a reminder of the War, but then it was decided to reconstruct this section according to its original appearance.

Inside the Cathedral "Then" (above) and "Now" (below)

Some repair and maintenance work is constantly being carried out in some section of the building, which is almost never completely free of scaffolding, since wind, rain, and pollution slowly eat away at the stones.

Here are views of the Cathedral and Bridge together,
taken "Then" and "Now"

05 March 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

5 March, 1945      1730

Germany

My darling Wilma –

This time I’m in a really modern home – and surprisingly preserved. This little town for some reason or other managed to escape most of the artillery and bombing and it’s quite a treat to be able to set-up in a house that has a couple of windows in – and a roof. I’m in one of the bedrooms right now; my bedding roll is on a single bed and there’s a small stove going. It’s really quite comfortable but could be tremendously complemented and supplemented by your presence, sweetheart. What this bedroom needs is a woman’s ‘touch’ – and when I write ‘woman’ – I mean only you.

I have to write fast now because it’s starting to get dark – rapidly. It should be easy to surmise, dear, that I’ve been on the go of late – and the hours are irregular. As a result – time is where you find it. A couple of hours ago I didn’t think I’d be able to write you. Last night when I got to bed – I felt dizzy and nauseated – for no reason whatsoever. I hadn’t been drinking and I had eaten nothing unusual. Well I went on from there – spending a very miserable night – and this morning I really felt sick. It seemed like ptomaine – but I can’t figure the source. Anyway – I wasn’t able to eat all day. In the early p.m. I started sipping some canned orange juice – and so far it has managed to stay down. I didn’t go to supper – and here I am. I can’t remember ever feeling this way before although I’m now about 80% cured, but I sure felt like giving up the ghost last night. It’s so rare that I’m ill – I hate it. I’ll be O.K. in the morning – because I can think of food now – and not mind.

The mail, naturally, has been a bit jumpy – and we don’t mind – if it’s for the reason it is. The last real chuckle I got was in your letter telling me about what Uncle Ab had to say one day. It certainly was considerate of him to look out for you and me – but where do you get away with that “and me so naive too” stuff. Who told you you were naïve, darling? Certainly – it wasn’t I! But anyway – dear – you must take care of yourself, so please! Be more careful!! After all!

By the way – I don’t remember whether or not I told you – I received a Valentine’s Card from Dr. Finnegan with a little note stating that he felt I wouldn’t be getting many from the girls – and that’s why he sent his. I got a kick out of that too and I must write him and thank him for his thoughtfulness.

And darling – it’s almost dark here now and I’m getting a little more headache than I started out with. Damn it – I don’t get headaches and here I am complaining of one. Well – I’ll try to get some sleep tonite – I got precious little last nite. And as usual I’ll drop off to sleep with pleasant thoughts of you and me – together again – I love that theme! My love to the folks, dearest, and so long for now.

All my sincerest love,

Greg

Route of the Question Mark


[CLICK TO ENLARGE]

(A)Elsdorf to (B) Kenten, Germany (5 miles)
2 March to 5 March 1945

March 5... Kenten. Mr SANDRI milked the goat and we collected scores of radios and thru furniture out of windows while the inhabitants wept. All in all we completed the destruction of the town.

* TIDBIT *

about Operation "Lumberjack"

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 190, published in 1973 in Washington, D.C. comes this excerpt:

As the 3rd Armored, 104th, and 8th Divisions drove toward Cologne on 5 March, resistance was strongest in the north, where General Rose's armor faced the seemingly ineradicable 9th Panzer Division, and in the south where the 8th Division at the end of the day still was two miles short of the city limits. The relatively slow progress of the 8th Division reflected not only the difficulties of attacking through the coal-mining district but also the fact that the division was striking the north flank of the LVIII Panzer Corps.

The armor nevertheless broke into Cologne soon after daylight, to be followed two hours later by the 104th Division from the west. In a precursor of what was to come as Allied armies fanned out all across Germany, the stiffest fight developed around an airfield where the Germans turned sixteen stationary 88-mm. antiaircraft guns against the tanks of Combat Command Hickey. The tanks finally eliminated the guns in smoke-screened cavalry-like charge. Almost all resistance by the 9th Panzer Division collapsed a short while later when the division commander, Generalmajor Harald Freiherr von Elverfeldt, was killed. As evening approached, the First Army commander, General Hodges, shifted the southern boundary of the VII Corps to the southeast to provide room for the 8th Division to drive to the Rhine south of Cologne and cut the enemy's last landward escape route.

Now a pile of rubble from thousands of tons of Allied bombs, Cologne had once been the Queen City of the Rhine, the third largest city in Germany, and was the largest German city to fall to the attack of British or American forces in this war.

The first silent movie shows the 3rd Armored Division approaching Cologne (Köln), in the suburbs Pulheim, Bickendorf. The second shows Americans entering Cologne (Köln), Germany on 5-7 March 1945.