28 March 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

28 March, 1945      1000

Germany

Dearest darling Wilma –

It has been so long since I’ve written on anything resembling conventional stationery, that I thought I’d try it when the opportunity presented itself. And it did. The winged lizard – or whatever you call it – is on the Count’s crest – and on everything else having anything at all to do with the household.

The day before we left – someone discovered a secret cellar which had been boarded up and cemented over. It was cleverly concealed. Well dear, you realize, of course, that we’re in enemy territory and we never can be sure whether or not explosives or something had been hidden away. It’s the “or something” that makes us particularly curious – and anyway the boys broke into the cellar and found 1200 bottles of old vintage Rhine wine and an enormous stock of canned and smoked foods; also beautiful china and silverware. All the latter was of course untouched – because we have strict standing orders not to take German food or household belongings, but the wine? Well the whole battalion – not just headquarters alone – has had it’s share, and when we left, each bag, trailer, vehicle etc. was bulging with it. And I haven’t seen anyone drunk with it. It’s a mild wine and delicious at mealtime – and that’s when the officers have been drinking it.

Well, sweetheart, chalk up yesterday as another day in which I couldn’t get a letter off to you or the folks. The situation at present is strongly reminiscent of the race thru France and I hope this one goes far. The enthusiasm over here is terrific as it must be at home – because every move brings us nearer to the Russians, and they to us – and the Germans between us. It’s shaping up as a sport contest too – because it seems as if Armies, corps and divisions are racing each other to see who can knife farther into Germany.

Our present quarters are just so-so – but hell, we’re still not out on the ground, and the faster we travel, the less damage we find and so it looks like better hunting on ahead. And on top of all that good news, I got a swell batch of mail, 4 letters from you, dear, the latest – written 15 March; and one dated V-mail of the 13th, too. I also heard from Dad A, Barbara Tucker, Lil Zetlan, a former patient in Salem, and a friend in Italy. Not bad at all. One of your letters – 2 March – told of being a bit fed up with your particular branch of work. I think I can understand what you feel, dear. I haven’t received your letter telling me of the interview – but regardless – just hang on a bit longer because after all – your job with R.C. won’t be permanent. I shall return home to love you marry you and snatch you from the horrible claws of boredom.

And now, darling, I’ve got a bit or work to do. I think my letters may be a bit spotty or irregular for awhile – and if you get a couple of V-mails – don’t be upset, dear, because it will be for a good cause. But I’ll try to write every day – anyway – if I can. My love to the folks, dear, best regards to the girls – and be well, sweetheart.

All my everlasting devotion

Greg.

* TIDBIT *

about Exploiting the Breakthrough

[CLICK TO ENLARGE]

From Mission Accomplished, The Story of the Campaigns of the VII Corps United States Army in the War Against Germany (1944-1945), page 57 came this:

In the first day's drive, after crossing the Rhine on 25 March, armored columns of VII Corps advanced 20 kilometers. Resistance to the advance of the 104th Division on the south was moderate, but the 1st Division farther north fought off determined counterattacks as it moved east and also protected part of the Corps left flank. In another day the leading columns dashed 35 kilometers farther to seize all assigned objectives, and the Corps had contact with the enemy on a front along the west bank of the Rhine and the south bank of the Sieg for 97 miles.

Once more elements of the VII Corps had achieved a breakthrough, - now to exploit the situation. While our armored columns raced ahead, meeting only moderate resistance, our infantry cleared town after town, taking over a thousand prisoners a day. On 28 March 1945 the attack swung north-east and armored units sped another 35 kilometers to capture Marburg. The Corps advance had moved so fast, covering 90 kilometers in only three days, that this city of 25,000 population, famed as one of Germany's cultural centers, was virtually undamaged. Its 13th Century cathedral and its university founded in 1527 escaped completely the destruction that attended the capture of Aachen, Duren, Cologne, and Bonn.

St. Elizabeth's Church (Elisabethkirche)
in Marburg, Germany today
Construction was started in 1235.
The church was canonized in 1283.
The towers were completed in 1340.

Several German military hospitals were overrun in Marburg, and [6,000] soldier-patients became our prisoners. [According to Wikipedia, the whole city of Marburg had been turned into a hospital with schools and government buildings turned into wards to augment the existing hospitals from 1942 to 1945. By the spring of 1945, there were over 20,000 patients – mostly wounded German soldiers.] How little the Germans expected the arrival of our forces was shown when a railroad train loaded with civilians and convalescent soldiers being taken to Marburg for a rest and vacation was halted just outside the city by our tanks. But there was no rest or relaxation for our troops either, for now the Corps front extended approximately 200 kilometers, or 125 miles.

27 March 1945

No letter today. Just this:

Here are the photos Greg took around Bonn on the West side of the Rhine and Bad Godesburg on the East side of the Rhine, Germany on 26 March 1945.

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The Cathedral at Bonn, Germany - March 1945


All that is left of the famous University at Bonn, Germany
March 1945


Typical GI Sign-Post on German Flak Gun - Bonn, Germany
March 1945


Fredrick William the Great - Bonn, Germany - March 1945
(Behind is shell of University)


Note painting on fence. See this all over Germany. They are pep talks.
This one says "Certainly we will win. There's no doubt about it!"
Bonn, Germany - March 1945


Camera didn't get details of
beautiful facade on building.
Note Jayhawk Ferry sign - Our Corps Ferry


The Rhine - Below Bonn, Germany - March 1945
West Bank sign erected by Engineers and greets you as you head East.
And CBI = China-Burma-India Theater - which I hope I miss.


The Rhine looking South from Bonn


West Bank of Rhine Smoke Pot - Beginning Smoke Screen
Bad Godesberg - March 1945


Looking East across Rhine at Bad Godesberg
March 1945


Civilians queuing up for questioning. Note Gerries in uniform.
Bad Godesberg - March 1945

* TIDBIT *

about the Last V-2 Rocket Launched

From losser.vamp's Flicker photostream came the below photos with the following write-up:

Towards the end of March 1945 Allied forces were closing in on the two launch sites in Holland, crossing the Rhine on 21 March. The German rocket batteries had time for a few parting shots before moving out of Holland and putting Britain beyond the range of the two. On the afternoon of 27 March 1945 they launched two last rockets, one aimed at Antwerp (which killed 27 people) the other aimed at London. At 4:54pm the 1115th and final V-2 to land in England landed at Orpington in Kent (15 miles from the center of London) between Court Road and Kynaston Road, blasting a crater 40 feet across and 20 feet deep in the gardens that separated the two roads. People heard the explosion for miles around as buildings shook, windows and tiles were blown from houses and people dived for cover.

23 People from Court Road and Kynaston Road were seriously injured, including a married couple in their garden at No. 84 Kynaston Road, two old age pensioners at No. 86 Kynaston Road, the elderly occupants of No. 82 Kynaston Road, whose roof was lifted off in the blast and a police Inspector at No. 69 Court Road who was listening to a radio program about the war being over when the house fell on top of him! The owner of No. 63 Court Road heard the explosion while she was shopping in Petts Wood and returned to find her house gone. Two children playing in the garden of No. 96 Kynaston Road were saved as they were playing in the Anderson Shelter at the time.

Damage at Kynaston Road on 27 March 1945

34-year-old Mrs Ivy Millichamp of No. 88 Kynaston Road was in her kitchen when the rocket fell. She was pulled from the wreckage by her husband Eric but she had caught the full force of the blast and was already dead. Apparently she had just gone into the kitchen to boil a kettle; her husband, who had remained in the front room of the house, survived.

Ivy Millichamp

Ivy was part of a large family - her parents Mr and Mrs Benjamin Croughton had seven daughters and five sons in Tottenham before moving to Rayleigh in Essex. Ivy married engineer Eric Millichamp in 1938 and the couple moved into the bungalow in Kynaston Road as it was convenient for Eric's work. In January 1945 a V-1 flying bomb had landed in Court Road, killing 8 people, but that time Ivy and Eric escaped unharmed. Just over 2 months later they were less lucky and Ivy suffered the cruel fate of becoming the 60595th and last civilian to be killed in Britain. She was buried in All Saints Churchyard on April 3rd. The grave initially was not marked and the death certificate gave her address incorrectly as 86 Court Road. Thanks to the editor and authors of the book The Blitz: Then & Now Vol. 3 the certificate was corrected and a suitable headstone was erected. On Rememberance Sunday in 1989 a memorial service was held at the grave. Her headstone records the fact that she was the last person in Britain to be killed by enemy action.

Ivy's Grave

Although the days of the V2 attacks were over the V-1 attacks continued for 2 more days but with no further deaths. On March 29th anti-aircraft gunners in North Kent triumphantly claimed what was to be the last V-1 to land on British soil. It exploded in open countryside at Iwade near Sittingbourne.

88 Kynaston Road today

Here is an eyewitness account called "The Last V2 - Final Attack in Orpington, 1945" as written by Michael Delaney and posted on BBC's web site WW2 People's War

It was the morning of the 27th March 1945, Mum had gone to clean the library in Orpington High Street, it was one of the many jobs she did to feed her family of seven children which included a cousin who lived with us since her Mother died four years previously. We lived in Walnuts Road which ran parallel to the valley of Orpington High Street, and this particular morning we were getting ready for school while Dad was dressing the younger members of the family. Paddy was the eldest, he was ten, I was eight, then came my cousin Mary, seven, my two sisters Marion and Margaret five and four respectively,followed by two brothers, Desmond, two and Jack, one. I was passing the window at the rear of the living room when I felt a rush of wind, almost warm and then it was as though some giant had picked the house up and shook it like a matchbox, the windows trembled before cascading across the living room, showering Demond with tiny splinters, an almighty roar followed instantaneously and the house shook again before a silence descended followed by cries and shouts of fear and terror.My ears rang as though a thousand bells had entered my head and everything became slow motion.

Dad clasped the girls and tried to brush the particles of glass away from their hair, astonishingly none of us was hurt but the cold morning entered the house with nothing to bar its way. Dad calmed us, then in an even calmer voice he said to me and Paddy, "Go down to the library and look for Mum." We were only too glad to go, it meant that we might be able to see where the bomb had landed, so instead of making for the library at the top end of the High Street, we made for the centre where a scene of devastation met our eyes, every shop window in the centre of the high street lay in smithereens across the pavement and gutter, ragged garments hung from some open spaces where jagged frames hung crazily into the thoroughfare. A policeman wearing a black steel helmet was blowing a whistle and the A.R.P vehicles and ambulances were moving slowly up the street. Broken tiles were scattered in pieces having been blown from the roofs of the shops, two shop assistants were standing crying together outside what remained of their workplace. We picked our way up the high street towards the library and found it minus windows and door, of Mum there was no sign, we were nearer the scene of the explosion now, and only for the large Commodore cinema, the casualties would have been much higher, The explosion was caused by a V-2 and it had landed fifty yards or so behind the cinema which absorbed most of the blast. The V-2 was a rocket filled with high explosives and targeted to land in the areas in and around London, these were so sophisticated that you never heard them coming, the first you knew was the explosion, their predecessor, the V-1 had an unmistakeable sound, like a motor-bike without a silencer and you could hear the engine cut out and try to seek shelter. The V-2 was silent,deadly and dreaded. Assuming that Mum had been killed or wounded, we didn't bother to hurry home, but continued to survey the devastated high street.

Eventually we strolled home looking for shrapnel on the way, we found Mum at home, she had been cleaning the part of the library below ground level and was there when the rocket landed. We were delighted, not about Mum but about the fact that we didn't have to go to school that day. It seemed ironical that only nine months' earlier, we had been evacuated to Wales to escape the V-1s only to be hit by a V-2. This was in fact, the last V-2 to land on England. One person was killed whom I believe is buried in Orpington graveyard, around thirty or so were injured, and just two months later, the war was over. Even today if you stand near the was memorial in Orpington and look up to the sloping roofs above the street, you will be able to see the 'new' tiles that replaced the old ones blasted away in that last V-2 attack.

26 March 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

26 March, 1945      0830

Germany

Wilma darling –

It’s a rainy, drizzly morning, the first rain in some time, it seems. It looks as if it will last all day, but this time of the year – rains shouldn’t last long. Yesterday, late p.m. things finally quieted down for me and I set out to look around a bit. In getting to our present position – we had by-passed a famous university city – so I drove back yesterday to look around. The city is about 50% destroyed; the university 100%. There were a few walls standing with signs reading: French Seminar, Greek Seminar etc. The Cathedral of the City was pretty well wrecked. It must have been one swell spot to have been a student in that city because even half dead – it had an air of richness and romanticism that you expect from an old European city. I took a few snaps and then I returned here.

I found some mail from you, too, 2 airmails of 12 and 14 March. I was so glad to read you had received a recent one of mine because I know how elated I feel after receiving a late letter of yours. I also got a letter from Dr. Finnegan and a post-card from Dad A. when he was passing thru New York. Dr. Finnegan gave me a bit of news about Salem and particularly about a few of the men in the service. Dr. Gardner has lost 40 lbs, is still in the Pacific – and no diagnosis has been made; Bob Shaughnessy – in the Pacific – has arthritis of the spine and hip; Dick Thompson is back from the Pacific and is now at a West coast hospital. He has a fungus infection of his hands. I guess the Pacific is a pretty tough spot, Japs or no Japs. I’m glad that so far, at least, I’ve been able to stay out of that theater.

I also got a V-mail from you, dear – no date – in which you told me about the possibility of spending one night of Passover with my folks. I hope you got the chance to, because I know they’d love to have you. They’ll be mighty lonely people this year – for we always managed to get all together.

Your letter of the 12th mentioned a party and lots of people. I don’t have your previous letter – so I couldn’t follow it too well, but it sounded like a swell time. In the same letter you mentioned sending me a package – including face cloths. Thanks – in advance, darling; I’ll be on the look-out for it. In reference to the package you received with the two novels – I’m puzzled too, dear. Once a package is sent – I’m damned if I can remember what was put into it. I had thought that that one contained only the 2 books. There’s only one address book I ever sent you. But I sent out quite a bit of junk about that time – and I’m mixed up. I can’t even remember the spruce sprig or why I included it. Boy – am I slipping! As for the novels – I don’t think I’ll ever get around to reading them. They’re just a remembrance of the baby I delivered and a note of thanks from the mother.

And just to keep the facts straight, dear – you’ll be the most loved girl in town – when I get back. We’ll probably both become punchy – as they say in the Army – but I know that I’ll sure love you awfully hard and long.

Before I stop, dear – in reference to your hair – I don’t know; think I’ll send you down to the hairdressers; I haven’t had much training with a lot of hair – you know. And now, sweetheart, I’ll have to close. Hope to hear from you again today. Love to the folks – and

All my deepest love

Greg

Route of the Question Mark


[CLICK TO ENLARGE]

(A) Königswinter to (B) Schoenberg, Germany (12 miles)
15 March - 22 March 1945

March 26... Schoenberg. A sad let-down from Longenburg. Houses built of clay and mud, like the ones in Normandy, and just as dirty, if such a thing is possible. Very depressing. A ramshackle town.

25 March 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

25 March, 1945      0840

Germany

Dearest sweetheart Wilma –

It’s still a little noisy in here this morning but the boys will be going to Church soon and things should quiet down. This is Palm Sunday and it seems hard to believe that Easter is here next Sunday. I believe there’s to be some kind of Passover Service at the Corps the latter part of this week – but as usual I don’t know yet whether or not I’ll be able to make it. Meanwhile the weather stays beautiful, the days get longer and warmer, and if it weren’t for an occasional this or that – it would be easy to forget there was a war on. I’ve never seen so much of anything drunk as I have of this wine here. Most of the 800 bottles are gone, but the boys found a shed with tremendous kegs – all filled with fine red wine. They fill up 5 gallon cans and pass them around. We’ve sent a lot of stuff out to the batteries.

1015

I got busy again and here I am back. That’s when you can’t forget about war, darling. Damn it – everything seems so peaceful and serene and suddenly – bang! – and there’s work to do.

1050

Darling – it looks like a tough day so I’m going to sail right along and make this a short one. I wanted to tell you something – and with all the confusion here, I’m damned if I can think what it was. I do remember one thing I’ve meant to clear up some time ago. That was something you mentioned in a letter a couple of weeks ago. You were telling me about being out with Barbara and a fellow named Mel. You told me how he had missed going overseas when he broke his leg and you said I would have been very mad had that happened to me and then you said I like being in this thing. Well, Sweetheart, “like” is hardly the word, and where in the world did you get the impression that I like being in this war. You must remember this, dear, there’s a world of difference between making the best of things, trying to overlook an occasional hardship as discomfort – there’s a world of difference between that and liking it. No, I don’t like this or any part of the war. It has cheated me already of some very precious years of my life and has kept me away from marrying and living with a girl I waited a long time to meet. If you knew how I hated being here, how futile and wasteful it all seems – you could never say I like being in it. Darling – give me credit for making the best of a rotten situation, but that’s all. You’ll know what I thought and think of being a soldier – and over here – only when it’s all over. Then, dear, I think you’ll be surprised.

And now I honestly have to quit, dearest. It’s busy here today and they’re waiting for me. I love you, sweetheart, as life itself, and I always shall. Each day finds me missing you more and more – and only the good news makes the waiting a bit easier. Be well, dear, and send love to the folks. For now so long –

Always yours –

Greg

* TIDBIT *

about the Drive From the Rhine

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Small dotted line is Front Line on 22 March 1945
Dashed line is Front Line on 26 March
Note Operation Varsity in the North
Greg's Unit is pushing East north of Remagen with VII Corps

At 0400 hours on 25 March 1945 United States First Army launched a coordinated attack with the VII, III, and V Corps heading eastward out from the bridgehead. The 3d Armored Division passed through the 1st and 104th in four columns, closely followed by the supporting infantry, and despite difficult terrain, minefields, and enemy fire from small arms, self-propelled guns, and tanks, good progress was made. Infantry regiments from the 1st and 104th Infantry Divisions moved forward behind tank units. The 78th Infantry Division started to take over the 1st Infantry Division’s sector along the Sieg River. The 78th Division’s 309th Infantry Regiment eliminated an enemy foothold south of the river near Hennef.

Using strong forces of tanks and infantry from reinforcements rushed into the threatened area, the enemy unsuccessfully attempted to stem our advance. Eight enemy divisions were identified on the VII Corps front, but in spite of the number of units, the quality of many of the troops was low. In the first day's drive the armored columns advanced 20 kilometers. Resistance to the advance of the 104th Division on the south was moderate, but the 1st Division farther north fought off determined counterattacks as it moved east and also protected part of the Corps left flank. This explains why Greg was suddenly busy again.

The snapshot that follows was taken from Normandy to Victory: The War Diary of General Courtney H. Hodges & the First U.S. Army, maintained by his aides Major William C. Sylvan and Captain Francis G. Smith Jr.; edited by John T. Greenwood, copyright 2008 by the Association of the United States Army, p 347.

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24 March 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

24 March, 1945      1000

Germany

My dearest darling –

Well – the news continues to be excellent and I can imagine that everyone at home is in good spirits. We are, too, and I honestly don’t see how this can continue much longer than about 10 weeks or so – but that’s my private opinion. I think we’ve finally got them where we want them – dazed, confused, and what is most important – spread thinly.

I didn’t get a chance to write you as early this morning as I have been doing. One of the reasons was that I was collecting a little more junk to have wrapped and sent to you, dear. There’s a couple of books showing pictures of German victories in Poland and France – through 1940. There’s another book – a collection of cartoons by a famous German cartoonist. I wish you knew German, darling, because some of them are very good. But others are funny – translated or not – and I’ll translate some of the others for you, sweetheart, some night in bed. O.K.? Incidentally – I once mentioned the fact that I sent a lot of useless stuff home to you, dear. I hope I’m not cluttering up your house too much with it. I’m sure that a lot of stuff I look at now will cause me to wonder why I ever sent it when I see it at a later date. However, dear, in my own defense I can say that everyone here is the same.

Yesterday was another beautiful day here and the boys – I mean the enlisted men in particular – are having a swell time. They’re drinking all the wine they want. They eat their meals on a little patio – it’s warm enough, too. I didn’t do much yesterday – except to visit Group headquarters and take care of a little business there. We played Bridge again in the evening. Pete was over for awhile, and sent his love.

I received a V-mail from you and Lawrence yesterday – both dated 8 March. I believe that is the latest of yours I have – although airmail of the 6th arrived here a few days ago. Lawrence had little to say except that his attitude was unchanged. Your V-mail mentioned the fact that Col. Pereira had called and that must have been a surprise. It was damn nice of him to call and I’m surprised he remembered. In answer to your question why he didn’t know we were engaged – I’m not certain I know the answer dear. It seems to me I had told everyone. The only explanation is that we were out of contact for a long while when I was in England; that was because Pereira was being transferred all over the place. It wasn’t until after Normandy that we got to writing again. I met a mutual friend who had his address. He’s a good egg, though, and we had a lot of fun together. I’m sure we’ll get to see him after the war.

Oh – I meant to mention one article in particular that I’m sending in the package of today. I won’t name it because I don’t know exactly what it is. But tell me if you notice anything particular about it. I think you’ll know which object I mean.

Darling – I’d like to write more, but it’s late and I’ve got to get going. It’s not too late to tell you I love you, though – and strongly – and you, alone, Sweetheart. For now – love to the folks – and

All my truest love

Greg.

* TIDBIT *

about Operation Varsity


Paratroopers Landing in Operation Varsity

Operation Varsity was a successful joint American–British airborne operation that took place toward the end of World War II. It was the largest airborne operation in history to be conducted on a single day and in one location. It was the last mass parachute and glider assault of the Second World War, designed to pierce the final physical barrier to a ground advance into Nazi Germany. It was planned to immediately follow the assault across the Rhine.

At 1000 hours on 24 March 1945 nine battalions of the 6th British Airborne Division (9,387 personnel) together with six battalions from the 17th US Airborne Division (7,220 personnel) landed by parachute and glider east of the River Rhine near Wesel, Germany. The airlift consisted of 541 transport aircraft containing airborne troops, and a further 1,050 troop-carriers towing 1,350 gliders. The immense armada stretched more than 200 miles (322 km) in the sky and took 2 hours and 37 minutes to pass any given point. It was protected by some 2,153 Allied fighters from the U.S. Ninth Air Force and the Royal Air Force. These were followed closely by 240 four-engine Liberator bombers of the U.S. Eighth Air Force dropping 582 tons of supplies including 109 tons of ammunition, 695 vehicles, and 113 artillery pieces. Fifteen of the Liberators were lost.

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Paratroopers of Operation Varsity
before boarding their C-47 transport


C-47s releasing paratroopers of Operation Varsity

At the conclusion of the operation, all of the objectives that the airborne troops had been tasked with had been captured and held, usually within only a few hours of the operation's beginning. The bridges over the Issel had been successfully captured, although one later had to be destroyed to prevent its capture by counter-attacking German forces. The Diersfordter Forest had been cleared of enemy troops, and the roads through which the Germans might have routed reinforcements against the advance had been cut by airborne troops. Finally, Hamminkeln, the village that dominated the area and through which any advance would be made, had been secured by air-lifted units. About 3,500 German soldiers were captured.

Glidermen of Operation Varsity

The defenders of the Reich made the paratroopers pay with their lives. Operation Varsity turned out to be the bloodiest day for Allied Airborne troops in the whole of the Second World War. The two divisions incurred more than 2,000 casualties. The cause of this high casualty rate can likely be traced to the fact that the operation was launched in full daylight, rather than a night-assault. The casualty rates were worsened by the slow rates of release and descent of the gliders themselves, and the fact that each aircraft towed two gliders, slowing them even further; as the time to release a glider unit was 3–4 times longer than a parachute unit, the gliders were vulnerable to flak. Also, there was little element of surprise. The Germans knew the when the attack was to occur, but did not know exactly where. Once the smoke screens were lit, the area of attack from across the Rhine became apparent.

Medic treating wounded gliderman beside his glider


Wounded paratroopers of Operation Varsity
being brought to an Aid Station

Yet for all the success of Operation Varsity, the question remained whether under the prevailing circumstances an airborne attack had been necessary or was even justified. It unquestionably aided British ground troops. However, in view of the weak condition of German units east of the Rhine and the particular vulnerability of airborne troops in and immediately following the descent, some overbearing need for the special capability of airborne divisions would be required to justify their use. Although the objectives assigned the divisions were legitimate, they were objectives that ground troops alone under existing circumstances should have been able to take without undue difficulty and probably with considerably fewer casualties. Participation by paratroopers and glidermen gave appreciably no more depth to the bridgehead at Wesel than that achieved by infantrymen of the 30th Division. Nor did the airborne attack speed bridge construction, for not until 0915 the next day, 25 March, did engineers start work on bridges at Wesel. A treadway bridge had been opened to traffic behind the 30th Division seventeen hours before that.

A documentary about Operation Varsity is shown in two parts in the first two videos below. That is followed Patrick Edmonds telling of his piloting a glider into Germany, filled with troops and materiel, in Operation Varsity.

23 March 1945

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

23 March, 1945

Germany

My dearest sweetheart –

I’m listening to the radio as I’m writing this and it’s playing “It had to be you” – and I’m so glad it was you, dear, because I know you’re going to make me glad always.

Yesterday I had a chance to write you a V-mail only – and a short one at that. We’ve settled again and each time I’m more impressed with the ease and speed with which we adjust ourselves. As usual – the 438th looks for and – if at all available – finds a fairly comfortable spot. If I ever write you, dear, that we’re not in a very good set-up, you can be sure there isn’t a good place within miles of the area we’re in.

This is an old Schloss – or castle. It’s not particularly beautiful from the outside – although there is a dried up moat around it, but it has been completely modernized so that it has central heating, tile bathrooms etc. The occupants were – and we made them move – an honest-to-goodness Count and Countess.

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This is one wing of the castle.
23 March 1945 - Germany

And everything in this place smacks of royalty. They had to leave on one hour’s notice and left everything as is. The wardrobes are terrific and you’d never know there was a shortage of anything at all. The family is or was in the wine business and what a wine cellar they had! The finest Rhine wine, red and white. I guess there must have been about 800 bottles. I don’t know how many are left now. I don’t mean to imply it has all been drunk already, but it certainly has been laid away. The officers had their share.

First C.P. across Rhine - Note Corner Knocked Off - Shell
Königswinter - March 1945

I’m sitting at a large desk, with book-ends, trays, chronometer etc. decorating. My office was the drawing room – measuring about 40 by 25 feet. Bookcases, filled, line the walls and above the bookcases are hunting trophies and mounting of all sorts. It’s comfortable and livable here. So you see, Sweetheart, war or no war – we manage to live as comfortably as possible. Last night we played Bridge and listened to some fine recordings. It was a nice evening, and relatively quiet – and for a change, I was able to sleep rather soundly. Do you toss and turn, dear. I believe you told me once, but I can’t remember. I turn frequently – and when I don’t sleep soundly, I’m all over the bed – so watch out, darling. I’m likely to be all –– oh, what am I saying?

Well – we didn’t get any mail yesterday and supposedly we don’t get any today. By the way – you mentioned in one of your latest letter that you thought I was doing a heck of a lot of drinking. I guess it did sound like a lot – it was when we were in Stolberg. Maybe it was. Every now and then it seems as if you’ll go a little whacky if you don’t forget things for an hour or two and then you look for an excuse to drink – someone’s promotion, a coming birthday – anything. But that’s not steady drinking – dear – and I – at least – don’t drink in between times – as some of the fellows do. The fact is I don’t like the taste of the stuff at all – and don’t worry. I’ll never be a souse.

Well, sweetheart, the time has slipped by – with a few interruptions – and the boys are starting to drift in. I love, you, darling, from the Count’s castle, too, from everywhere in fact – and I really won’t love you the way I can and will – until I get home.

Love to the folks, regards to the girls, and

All my everlasting love –

Greg.

Here is the beginning of this letter as written on the castle letterhead
CLICK TO ENLARGE

* TIDBIT *

about the Kesselstatts and Longenburg

Count Johannes (Hans) Kesselstatt was born on 16 April 1902 in Grundslee, Steiermark, Austria. His first wife, Princess Ferdinanda Hahn was born on 1 July 1902 in Arensfels. The Count and Countess (Graf und Gräfin) Hans and Ferdinanda had 4 children. The eldest, Count Ferdinand Kesselstatt was born on 16 December 1930 in Bonn and died in Eltville on 20 October 1984 at the age of 54, leaving his wife and three children. The second child of the Count and Countess, Alice-Eugenia, was born on 2 May 1932.

Calling Card of the Castle Count and Countess

The last two children of Hans and Ferdinanda, Count Eugen, born on 23 February 1935 in Bad Godesberg and Count Franz-Edmund, born on 6 April 1936 in Bad Godesberg both died on 22 April 1944 in Longenburg at Königswinter. Princess Ferdinanda died two days later on 24 April 1944 in Longenburg at Königswinter. It happened that during a terrible air raid in the early evening of the 22nd which killed 56 people in Königswinter, three heavy bombs landed in the immediate area of Longenburg. Two hit the southeast side. The third bomb struck at an angle just in front of the north tower. The huge blast shook the east side of the building from the foundation, and it collapsed in on itself. Countess Johanna and her two young sons died in the wreckage. Greg noted on his picture in this letter the part of the castle that was hit. Is is unlikely that he knew anything about the deaths that went with the destruction. Here are some pictures from when it was intact.

Hans subsequently remarried a woman named Alexandra von Schmettow (born 28 Jun 1914 in Potsdam, Brandenburg, Prussia) on 28 June 1945 in Longenburg. The Count died on 9 January 1963 in Berenbach, Eifel, Germany. Alexandra lived until 1975, leaving no children of her own.

In 1952, automotive and commercial highway steel and aluminum wheels manufacturer Lemmerz-Werke acquired the entire property of Königswinter. Four years later they had finished their first building in the immediate vicinity of the castle. In 1959 the farm buildings and stables were demolished for another factory. In April 1962, the old knight's hall fell victim to the pickaxe and before the end of November the last remains of the manor house were razed to the ground.

22 March 1945

V-MAIL

438^th AAA AW BN

APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.

22 March, 1945      0900

Germany

Dearest sweetheart –

Only a few moments – in which to say “hello, hello, hello; I love you, I love you, I love you!” Sorry to be so curt and scrawly, darling, but I’m on my way – as usual – and I’m trying to reverse the procedure by writing you now instead of later.

But time’s-a-wastin’ – dearest and duty calls – so I’ll be off in a cloud of dust. But I love you deeply – even when I’m in a hurry – so there’s no way out; you’ll just have to marry me!

Love to all – So long for now –

All my love, sweetheart

Greg

Route of the Question Mark


[CLICK TO ENLARGE]

(A)Friesdorf to (B) Königswinter, Germany
(2-6 miles, depending on where the bridge was...)
15 March - 22 March 1945

March 22... Longenburg (at Königswinter). The crossing of the Rhine, and the castle where we found the wine. The pleasant life on the terrace, where we ate and listened to Pfc HANSON's records, and had our parties. Chow call was played on the Victrola at meal times. The memorable party on the last night of our stay. Here Pvt BIGGIE and T/5 DE SILVA, checking a break in the line, were hospitalized when an 88 mm shell exploded near them.

Königswinter - Front Patio - Enlisted Men's Mess
Note Victrola - Continuous Music
Aid Station Directly Inside - March 1945

The following photos were taken on the way from Friesdorf to Königswinter.

March 1945 - "Long Tom" waiting to cross the Rhine


A Pontoon Bridge over the Rhine. Farther shore is West Bank.
Note guards every several yards watching for floating mines.
Bonn, Germany - March 1945


Our first crossing of Rhine - Just Above Remagen, Germany
Background is artificial smoke screen.
March 1945