14 December, 2011

14 December 1944

438th AAA AW BN
APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.
Germany
14 December, 1944        1025

My dearest girl –

I wish it could be empty and quiet here just once in a while – right now, for example, so that I could sit down and write a coherent thoughtful letter. I’m particularly anxious to have that because I’d like to answer your letter of 29 November, dear, when – so to speak – you fired at point blank range. I got your letter yesterday and was anxious to answer immediately – and I was unable to write at all – either to you or my folks. That was the first day missed in a long while. The Colonel and I left for a little trip on business – and we were gone the whole day.

When I first read your letter, I was a little bit peeved – I must admit. For one thing, darling, it’s not fair to read one batch of letters and then another from a different period, compare the two – and find one batch wanting. For instance – if I did that with your letters – I could find that sometimes you have time to concentrate and you really write a swell letter – and then other times – you’re visiting a good deal, going to a movie, playing Bridge – etc – and your letters are a bit more hurried. As a group – that would be noticeable. Individually, I love each and every one of them – they’re from you – and to me; they’re personal; you write to me as you do to no one else – and I’m aware of all that and love you for it.

So far, dear, what I’ve said of your letters – is probably true of mine – except that – when my letters are hasty, show some lack of concentration etc – it’s more often for a different reason.

Now – another point – you mention Lawrence having heard some details that he wouldn’t tell my folks and you act hurt because you thought surely I’d tell you. If I haven’t told you all, darling, it’s because I love you – just as I haven’t told my folks all. I never told Lawrence – until he went into Active service. It makes no difference at all how close we are; I can’t see any sense in telling you the gruesome side of this war that I have seen – and I don’t think you should feel that because we are so close – you should hear it from me. It’s different telling it – and then only some of it – to Lawrence. You must understand the difference, dear.

Now, sweetheart, you tell me you don’t doubt for a minute that I love you. I’m glad for that because if there’s one thing I want you always to be certain of – it’s that. So it boils down to my manner of expression – and how it has changed. I don’t have to go for a walk, darling, to clear my mind – and besides – this isn’t quite the country in which to go strolling with your mind in deep thought; the fact is plain and simple to me – dear – I love you – much much more than when I first left the States. I know so much more about you, your likes, dislikes and mannerisms; we’ve talked about our future together, we’ve made sort of tentative plans about what we might do immediately after our marriage – in short – sweetheart – we’ve been as intimate with each other as two people in love can be who must be an ocean apart. My enthusiasm changed? Hardly, dear – as you will surely see when I get back. Then what? – that’s what you want to know. I don’t want to look for excuses – for the fact is – darling, I have not realized that my letters were fundamentally different – although perhaps I should have. But darling – can’t you realize where I’ve been since June and where I am now? Take a look at that 7th Corps Christmas Card I sent you and realize how much in the war we’ve been and still are. Think of what my moods have been when I’ve sat down to write you; think of the casualties I’ve cared for – writing you a paragraph, stopping for two hours, and continuing; think of some letters which took me all day to write – even though I didn’t so indicate – and then wonder how I ever get a letter off to you at all sometimes – and I didn’t miss many days in six months – no more than you did when you had a busy week-end perhaps. No –dear – I haven’t changed one bit – in my love for you, in my enthusiasm, in my plans for the future together with you, in my potential wit – which you refer to; in anything – darling. But what you haven’t entirely grasped is the fact that my environment has changed – and there isn’t anyone over here who hasn’t been affected by it. It’s temporary though, sweetheart and we’ll break out of it – but please try to understand. Take my individual letter per se – and don’t line it up against one written when I was living in comparative luxury – when the war was still something I personally hadn’t seen. Bear with me, dear – I haven’t slipped –

I’ll stop now, sweetheart. I’ll re-read this to see just what I’ve written. Whatever I’ve said, I know you’ll take it in the correct spirit – because you must know what I’m trying to say. Eventually this will all pass by and we’ll have each other and then letters will be a thing of the past. I think you’ll find my love – true, warm and real.

For now – so long, dearest. I hope I answered what you wanted to know. If not – say so – and I’ll try again. My love to the folks.

All my sincerest and deepest love,
Greg.

* TIDBIT *

about The Roer River Dams
(continued)


CLICK TO ENLARGE

The information that follows was extracted from The Siegfried Line Campaign written by Charles B. MacDonald for the U.S. Army's Center for Military History (1990), Chapter XXVI, Page 606. Go to that site to see footnotes and attributions.

As the 78th Division was attacking through the Monschau Corridor to the north, then northeast along the Strauch-Schmidt highway through extremities of the Huertgen Forest and finally through Schmidt to reach the Roer River dams from the north, the 2nd Division was to attack northward into the Monschau Forest from twin Belgian border villages of Krinkelt-Rocherath, southeast of Camp d'Elsenborn. The 2nd Division was to break a West Wall strongpoint at a road junction marked by a customshouse and a forester's lodge named Wahlerscheid, and then fan out in two directions, northwest to clear resistance opposite the Hoefen-Alzen ridge between the Wahlerscheid road junction and Monschau, and northeast along a higher ridge line, the Dreiborn ridge, which leads to the Roer River Dams. Perhaps in cognizance of the tribulations exposed flanks had wrought in the Huertgen Forest, General Gerow directed that a regiment of the 99th Division make a limited objective attack within the Monschau Forest alongside the 2d Division's exposed right flank.

Aiming first at the Wahlerscheid road junction, the West Wall strongpoint deep within the forest at the meeting point of the Hoefen-Alzen and Dreiborn ridges, the 2nd Division had but one road leading to the first objective. This was a secondary highway running north through the forest into Germany from the twin Belgian villages of Krinkelt-Rocherath. Faced with this restriction, the division commander, General Robertson, had little choice of formation for the first leg of the attack other than regiments in column. He directed the 9th Infantry (Col. Chester J. Hirschfelder) to attack astride the road, take the Wahlerscheid road junction, then swing northwest to clear those Germans opposite the Hoefen-Alzen ridge. Following in column as far as Wahlerscheid, the 38th Infantry (Col. Francis H. Boos) was to be committed northeast from the road junction along the Dreiborn ridge in the direction of the Roer River Dams. The 23d Infantry in division reserve was to remain near Camp d'Elsenborn.

That part of the Monschau Forest through which the 9th Infantry first was to push was a kind of no man's land of snow-covered firs, hostile patrols, mines, and roadblocks. Though the sector belonged within the 99th Division's defensive responsibilities, that division held such an elongated front that defense of some parts had been left more to patrols than to fixed positions. Not for several miles on either side of the forest-cloaked road to Wahlerscheid were there any friendly positions in strength. The gap on the right of the road was of particular concern because the southeastward curve of the 99th Division's line left the sector open to enemy penetration from the east. Approaching along forest trails, the Germans might sever the 2nd Division's lifeline, the lone highway to Wahlerscheid.


2nd Division moves through the Monschau Forest
December 1944

Because the forested no man's land between Krinkelt-Rocherath and Wahlerscheid was some three miles deep, obtaining accurate intelligence information before the attack was difficult. About all the 2nd Division knew was that the strongpoint at Wahlerscheid was held by troops of the 277th Volks Grenadier Division's 991st Regiment. Any real estimate of enemy strength at Wahlerscheid or any pinpoint locations of German pillboxes and other positions were missing. This situation made it particularly difficult to plan artillery fires in support of the attack.

The Monschau Forest was almost uncannily silent as troops of the 9th Infantry moved forward on foot in approach march formation an hour after daylight on 13 December. Because the highway was known to be mined, the men had to plow through underbrush and snow drifts on either side. When a partial thaw set in, branches of fir trees heavy with snow dumped their wet loads upon the men beneath them. In some ravines the ground was so marshy that icy water oozed over the tops of the men's overshoes. So impressed had been their commanders with the misfortunes of the 28th Division when depending upon but one supply road at Schmidt that they had ordered the men to carry enough rations, ammunition, and antitank mines to last for at least twenty-four hours without resupply.

At 1240 the column neared the clearing about the Wahlerscheid road junction. "Both battalions have dropped packs," Colonel Hirschfelder reported; "contact imminent." The 9th Infantry faced a formidable position that in some respects possessed the strength of a small fortress. Grouped compactly about the road junction and sited to provide interlocking fires were machine gun and rifle positions in and about four pillboxes, six concrete bunkers, a forester's lodge, and a custom house. The forest and deep ravines formed a kind of moat around the entire position. Where trees and underbrush had encroached upon fields of fire, the Germans had cut them away. In some places rows of barbed wire entanglements stood six to ten deep. The snow hid a veritable quilt of lethal antipersonnel mines.

It took only a matter of minutes after the attack began for Colonel Hirschfelder to determine that his hope of surprise was empty. The road junction bristled with fire. Mortar and artillery shells burst in the treetops. Exploding mines brought down man after man. One after another, eight men whose job was to clear a narrow path for the 1st Battalion were killed or seriously wounded by mines. Bangalore torpedoes set beneath the barbed wire failed to ignite because fuzes were wet. One platoon of the 2nd Battalion nevertheless pressed through five aprons of barbed wire before enemy fire at last forced a halt; yet several more aprons of unbreached wire lay ahead.

As night came the weather turned colder. Drenched to the skin, the men were miserable. Their clothing froze stiff. Through the night they tried to keep warm by painfully etching some form of foxhole or slit trench in the frozen earth. In the woods southeast of Wahlerscheid, experience of the 99th Division's 395th Infantry roughly paralleled that of the 9th Infantry.

Repeated attempts to assault and to outflank the Wahlerscheid position through the day of 14 December ended in failure.

13 December, 2011

13 December 1944

No letter today. Just this:

* TIDBIT *

about The "Neglected Objective"
The Roer River Dams


CLICK TO ENLARGE


The information that follows was extracted from The Siegfried Line Campaign written by Charles B. MacDonald for the U.S. Army's Center for Military History (1990), Chapter XXVI, page 597. Go to that site to see footnotes and attributions.

While American troops were approaching the Roer in late November and early December, concern was mounting in command circles about the obstacle that remained before sizable forces might cross the river with reasonable safety. This obstacle was the neglected objective - the dams on the upper reaches of the Roer which the Germans might employ to produce flood waters to isolate any force that had crossed the Roer.

Perhaps the explanation for the sins of ommission that made the sobriquet "neglected objective" applicable to the dams lay in the great expectations that had accompanied start of the November offensive. Perhaps the American command anticipated a rapid advance which might produce capture of the dams in the natural course of events. Or perhaps delay in launching a ground attack against the dams could be attributed to a hope that the dams might be breached from the air and the threat of controlled flooding thereby eliminated. If bombs could break the Urft Dam, upstream from the massive, earthen Schwammenauel Dam, the water level in the Schwammenauel reservoir might be raised to a point near the crest of the earthen dam, whereupon bombs might dig deep enough into the earth to get a small flow of water moving across the top of the dam. Erosion would do the rest.


Urft Dam


Schwammenauel Dam

The chief proponent of the scheme to bomb the Roer River Dams was the ground commander most directly concerned with eliminating the dams, General Hodges. At least as early as 18 November, the First Army commander began studying the dams with an eye toward air bombardment and on 22 November urged General Bradley to support the plan. When the G-3 for Air at 12th Army Group passed the request to SHAEF, the air officers at Eisenhower's headquarters allotted the project to the Royal Air Force, which specialized in the kind of low-level, precision bombing that would be required. The successful RAF attack on the Moehne Dam in the Ruhr in 1943, for example, came readily to mind. Yet apparently after consulting with the RAF, SHAEF air officers the next day, 23 November, reported the proposal impracticable. On the other hand, the air officers agreed that if the 12th Army Group considered breaching the dams "of paramount importance," SHAEF Air would "reconsider the matter."

A week later, on 30 November, General Hodges learned with immense satisfaction that the RAF had finally consented to try to blow the dams, but his hopes that this would solve the problem were dashed during the next few days by unfavorable weather. On 30 November and the first two days of December, planned attacks against the dams had to be canceled because of the weather, while on 3 December 190 aircraft made the flight over the dams but failed to attack, presumably because of poor visibility. The next day 200 aircraft flew over the target, but only 25 Lancasters and 3 Mosquitos actually attacked. Damage to the dams was discouragingly negligible. Another attack on 5 December was canceled because of poor visibility.

On 5 December SHAEF took another look at the question of breaching the dams from the air. The commander of the Royal Air Force Bomber Command, Air Chief Marshal Sir Arthur T. Harris, objected to the project on the theory that irreplaceable personnel were being wasted in an effort foredoomed to failure. Yet so impressed by now with the importance of the target was the Supreme Commander, General Eisenhower, that he ordered the attacks to be pushed over all objections.

Three days later, on 8 December, 205 aircraft dropped 797 tons of bombs on the Urft and Schwammenauel Dams and on the regulating dam between the two, the Paulushof. Though two hits were registered on the Urft and 18 on the Schwammenauel, neither dam was broken. Yet for all the frustration and negligible results involved thus far, the First Army commander, General Hodges, remained firm in his belief that the dams could be broken from the air. A thousand bombers a day, Hodges believed, "should be sent over until the dam is broken."

After another three-day wait occasioned by the weather, 230 Lancasters again attacked the dams. Of these, 178 concentrated against the Urft with 1,065 tons of bombs; but results again were discouraging. The bombs cut the top of the dam at the south end, allowing some water to spill through, but not enough. Although the RAF consented to two more tries, on 13 and 14 December, weather again forced cancellation. The air effort had failed.

Even while the air program continued, General Hodges, for all his insistence that the dams could be breached from the air, was making plans for a ground attack. Early in December he directed General Gerow's V Corps to seize the dams. General Gerow issued his field order for the attack on 7 December. The target date was 13 December 1944.

In planning the corps maneuver, General Gerow decided to eschew the possibility of three concentric attacks at first in favor of a double envelopment by two divisions. The depleted condition of the 8th Division in the north, which might have formed a third prong, and the fact that the fighting for the Brandenberg-Bergstein ridge had drawn enemy strength to the north no doubt influenced this decision.

The north wing of the envelopment was to be formed by the 78th Division. Attacking through the Monschau Corridor, the 78th first was to clear the pillbox- and village-studded plateau which marks the start of the corridor, then to continue northeast along the Strauch-Schmidt highway through extremities of the Huertgen Forest to Schmidt. From Schmidt the 78th Division might come upon the Roer River Dams from the north.

12 December, 2011

12 December 1944

438th AAA AW BN
APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.
Germany
12 December, 1944       0920

Wilma, darling –

The days are sure rolling by and I can’t believe it is actually the 12th of the month already. I’ve been fairly busy of late, dear, but even when I’m hanging around – time has raced right by. And a funny thing is the comparison of our state of mind now as compared with last year’s. Despite the fact that we’re in Germany and supposedly exposed to various dangers – it is much nicer here than it was in England a year ago. We saw pretty nearly all of England in the time we were there – as is characteristic of the 438th, I guess. We were on the West Coast, North, East Anglia and the South, not to mention Scotland, of course – but the worst spot we were in was the Midlands – the dreary industrial area. At least we hit it the worst time of the year – and I guess I must have written you enough about the fog. I wonder if you were able to perceive how thoroughly discouraged and homesick I actually was in those early weeks in England. Gosh, how I missed everything I had left behind – and most of all – you! And I still miss you most of all, Sweetheart, a year later – and that’s a healthy sign; it’s you I’m always thinking of when I think of home and the future – and that happens every hour of the day and before I drop off to sleep at nite and the first thing when I awaken each morning. And not a day goes by, sweetheart, without my thanking God for having you as my fiancĂ©e, waiting for me and wanting me as I want you.

Well – that was a pretty long paragraph. I just noticed, dear – but it wasn’t written without a couple of interruptions. It is now 1030 – and another slight lull. Yesterday was a thoroughly quiet day once I got over a few details. In the p.m. I tried to get some cough syrup through civilian apothecaries – but they had less than we have. It involved a whole lot of red tape – with a visit first to the Civil Affairs office. Then I visited a Doctor and asked him about the supply situation. None of this is allowed without permission, by the way, because just talking with a German calls for stiff punishment by Court Martial – in many cases. The doctor had had a nice home – but it was practically ruined – except for his office – which was really nice. Boy – my mouth watered.

In the evening we just sat around and talked until about 2200 - and then to bed.

1400

Well, dear, that was a long pause – but several things turned up and I’ve just gotten back to the Dispensary. No mail again for me – but guess what? Sure enough – I received a package from you, dear – and thanks! No – I haven’t opened it as yet but it’s sitting here right beside me on my desk. It’s apparently in good condition – the paper and string are still intact. That’s pretty good because many of the packages are coming thru without string, wet – or with half the paper off. I’m curious as all hell to find out what’s in it – but like everyone else here who gets a package – I’ll look at it for a couple of hours, shake it a little and then try to guess what’s in it. Then I’ll be ready to open it and enjoy it. I’ll let you know tomorrow, dear, how it went – but thanks again in advance. You know – dear – I never did get that package you wrote me about – the one your folks sent – but it’s no doubt somewhere on the way.

Now I’ve got to go back to Hq – which means – next door, and attend a Staff meeting. It’s raining today – but we’ve just had a couple of nice days and it looks as if it might clear out again.

So I’ll stop for now, Sweetheart – until tomorrow. Be well, darling and take good care of yourself. My love to the folks and

All my everlasting love.
Greg

* TIDBIT *

about the 424th Infantry Regiment's
"After Battle" and "Personal" Reports
for 12 December 1944



"Golden Lion" Patch of the 106th Infantry Division


From an After Battle Report, ending 31 December 1944, with "interlaced" personal reports by individual soldiers, of the HEADQUARTERS 424th Infantry, APO 443, U.S. Army, as found on Ralf Anton Schäfer's web site came this:

"To: Commanding General, 106 Inf. Division, APO 443, U.S. Army"

The 424th Infantry Regiment of the 106th Infantry Division of the First Army moved into the front lines for the first time in its history when it relieved the 23rd Infantry of the 2nd Division on 7,000 yards frontage in the St. Vith sector of the Belgium-German border on 11 December 1944. With positions on the western edge of the Siegfried line the 3d Battalion took over prepared emplacements on the left, or north flank and the 2d Battalion moved into the right half of the front lines, adjacent to the 28th Infantry Division. The 1st battalion was kept in reserve at Steinebruck. In the 3d Battalions, K Company, was on the left and L Company on the right, with I Company in reserve. The 2d Battalion placed F Company on the left, G on the right, and E in reserve. Cannon Company cemented a gap between the 2d Battalion and the 106 Reconnaissance troop. The 423rd was on the left.

In the overall tactical picture the commanding General had put the 422nd Infantry to the left on the Division front, the 423rd in the troublesome center sector, and the 424th on the south or right flank. The Regimental CP was at Heckhalenfeld and the Division CP at St. Vith. The regiment made the replacement move without incident, turning its personnel carrying trucks over to the 23rd. The operation was completed by 1530. No artillery, air, or ground interference was encountered.


St. Josef's Convent, the 106th Division HQ at St.Vith

First physical contact with the enemy was established at 1830 the same day when the 3d Battalion reported an enemy patrol in front of its lines and requested artillery fire on the patrol. At the same time A Company received the regiment’s actual baptism of fire when 10 rounds of mortar landed in this forward area, wounding two men, the first casualties from intimate action in the regiment. The two men were Private Harold E. Shagrin and Private Fosse. Both received Purple Hearts, the first in the regiment. More mortar fire landed in the G Company area at 2050.

At approximately the same time, the first of a series of fires started in the regimental area. Company C, 81st Engineers, reported one of its small personnel hutment's burning. It was brought under control with only the loss of personal equipment and radio.

Service Company, however, had more trouble in its area. Stationed at ALCHERATH, a fire broke out in a three story structure in which were quartered members of the 2d Battalion motor pool. One man, Private Theron McCollum, H Company, was burned to death in the fire. At the height of the fire, Capt. Uhel Barrickman, MTO, reported a shot was fired at him in the dark. Movements were seen in the brush near the burning house and the two instances of light signals from an adjoining civilian house were noticed. The CIC was called on the case. The rest of the night was quiet, with a minimum of patrol activity by both sides. The next day saw another fire destroy Regimental Headquarters. All records and personal effects, however, were removed. All fires were found have been started from carelessness, not sabotage.

"Personal Report" of John Connors, 424 Infantry HQ, 2nd Battalion, 12 December 1944

I was the Motor Transportation Officer in the 2nd Battalion of the 424th. After arriving in St. Vith in early December ‘44, with all of the Battalion vehicles. Our CO ordered me to go back to Quartermaster to get trucks to move all of our personnel to the front. When I returned in a day or so we loaded all the men in the trucks and transported them to the front line positions being held by elements of the 2nd Division in the Grosskampenberg area. This was about 3 or 4 days before the 16th, I believe. I then took my men and the Battalion vehicles back to an old deserted farm house to use as a Motor Pool and billet. After deploying the vehicles and setting up a 24 hour guard roster all of us, except the guard on duty, crawled in to our sleeping bags to get some rest.

Around 2 am I awakened to hear men screaming loudly and my first thought was that we were being attacked. I went in to the area where most of the yelling was coming from and it was engulfed in flames. My Sergeant, John Kopko, now deceased) and I routed the men who we could find who were still in their sleeping bags and got them out. We managed to find our way back to the Service Company area and when we checked we had everyone accounted for except one man. As soon as daylight came we went back to the sight which was a pile of smoldering ashes. Upon reaching the area and then going through the ashes we found his remains in a still zipped up sleeping bag. This was quite a shock to all of us and we later found out that the fire was started when one of the guards attempted to heat some coffee with a burner and it started a fire in the dry hay that covered the floor.

The next day I was notified that the Regimental CO, Colonel Reid, ordered me to report to him to explain what happened. My Jeep driver and I started for the Regimental Command Post and as we pulled into a path leading up to the building, another old farm house, I had my head down expecting the worst, when the driver said look! When I looked up the whole Command Post building was engulfed in flames. I learned from the Adjutant that the fire was started by careless use of matches and a candle by one of the CP personnel. The Adjutant then informed me that the Colonel no longer wanted to talk to me about my fire. A day or so later the Bulge started and with things in total confusion we had no idea where our Battalion was. Finally I found out from someone coming back that they had been pulled back to Burg Reuland and with the help of maps, road signs and prayers we found our way back to them and so began our saga of the rest of the Bulge.

"Personal report" of John P. Dimeglio, 424th Infantry, 12 December 1944

At LeHavre, France we were issued some new equipment and some ammunition. We lined up to be issued galoshes. There were only two sizes left size 8 and size 10 (I wear a size 11 shoe). We had to sign and accept the small size that we couldn’t get on. We discarded the small boots into a large pile. The lack of rubber boots was to cost us much pain in the Bulge. We were trucked up to the front on Dec. 12th to relieve the 2nd Division. They led us to dugouts that held about eight men.

11 December, 2011

11 December 1944

438th AAA AW BN
APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.
Germany
11 December, 1944        0905

Good Morning, Sweetheart!

Just look at the time, dear! I know I won’t get very far with this but at least I’ll try. I’ve always preferred writing to you in the a.m. if I could, and the earlier the better; my mind works more easily then. As the day progresses – I usually have about six or seven things to get done and I don’t seem to be wholly relaxed.

In the first place, darling, let me tell you about the enclosed Christmas Card. For some reason or other – when Corps had these made – they didn’t make enough and our outfit got none. Yesterday I managed to get hold of this one card – although I believe we’re trying to have some duplicated. It’s the cleverest thing I’ve seen and when I first saw it I was surprised that it had been passed by the Censor – but passed, it was. It speaks for itself, of course, and I think the Corps is justifiably proud of the part it played and is playing. The Divisions listed on top made up the Corps in the dates shown. Attached outfits – like ours for example – are not listed because there would be too many.

Front and Back Cover of the Fold-Out Christmas Card
from Headquarters VII Corps, 1944

CLICK PICTURES TO ENLARGE
  
Foldout of Christmas Card

  

Yesterday seemed like Sunday – only in the morning. The day was beautiful, but I continued to be busy throughout the day. In the evening – I saw “Casablanca: – for the 3rd or 4th time and then we started to play one “quick” rubber of Bridge – but it was one of those 2 hour rubbers. Oh – Pete came in for the movie and I asked him what he knew about the 31st of January – and he said – ‘nothing’ – so I’m still unable to figure out what you meant in your letter. And speaking of letters reminds me of something. I didn’t mean to worry you when I mentioned going out at night to take care of private patients. When did I mention it was dangerous, dear? I don’t recall that at all. The only thing hazardous

1025

Hello, darling, – as I was saying there’s nothing much hazardous about seeing a civilian patient at nite – as long as you know the Password for the day. I haven’t run into any trouble. And I haven’t gone far at nite – it’s always close by – and don’t worry about a trap. What would the Germans want with a doctor. I have no more love for the Germans, Sweetheart, than you; and I have no concerns over the misery some of them are putting up with. They’re all liars, all hated Hitler and all are glad we came – so they say; but when a person is sick – I’ve got to take care of him – that’s all. As a matter of fact – from all we’ve learned – the German medical service has been pretty decent to our soldiers. Don’t give the matter another thought, dear – I’m careful and I want to come back to you just as much as you want it. I always know where I’m going and why and my nite visits are very rare indeed. Satisfied?

Sweetheart – I must go now. I have an appointment with Civil Affairs; I’m going to try to get into a closed drugstore near here and see if I can get hold of some cough medicine. We’ve had some trouble getting it thru regular channels – and I’ve got a few soldiers who could use some. So – until later – darling, so long and don’t forget – take care of yourself – too! Love to the folks.

All my deepest love,
Greg



MILITARY GOVERNMENT OFFICE
Stolberg, Germany
11 December, 1944

       The bearer of this letter is authorized to inspect the drug stock of Karl Klein.

JOE. B. RICHARDSON
1st Lt., C.A.C.
Supply Officer

* TIDBIT *

about "Well, I'll be Damned"

This story comes from the 11 December 1944 issue of Time magazine and is titled "Medicine: Well, I'll Be Damned." A similar article was also printed in the Newsweek published the same date.

On a battlefield near Metz lay a wounded rifleman, clutching his neck and writhing in agony. His windpipe had been fractured by a mortar shell fragment; he was suffocating. Medical Corpsman Duane N. Kinman, 19, crawled to his aid through heavy machine-gun and mortar fire; 2nd Lieut. Edwin M. Eberling of Lincoln, Neb. joined him.

The medical corpsman, who in peacetime had been an automobile mechanic in College Place, Wash., went to work on the rifleman's throat. He knew, at second hand, the delicate operation that had to be done; his Army instructors had lectured on it, months before—a tracheotomy (incision into the windpipe) to provide an air entrance through the neck. (Common peacetime use: to save children strangling from diphtheria.) Even under the best conditions, the operation is risky; surgical books say that a good light is essential, that the patient's neck must be held very steady to avoid cutting the nearby jugular veins. While Lieut. Eberling held the struggling rifleman down, Private Kinman had to do as best he could by the murky light of the battlefield.

Said Private Kinman to the patient, as he opened his jackknife: "I don't like to do this, but it is the only way you are going to live." He made a vertical incision in the exact middle of the wounded man's neck stopped the blood as well as he could,' made an up & down cut in the windpipe, which he wedged open with the top of a fountain pen. "Now," he said, "keep that pen in your windpipe and you'll be O.K. You can't breathe through your nose or mouth, but if you keep your windpipe open with the pen, you can breathe through the cut I made."

In a few minutes the rifleman felt better. He stood up, fingering the tip of the fountain pen. A passing tank carried him to the battalion aid station. There the surgeon stared at the queer arrangement in his neck and sent him on. Next stop was the clearing station, where Captain David Dunn of Westminster, Md. removed the pen top, put in a regular tracheotomy tube (which the air passes through, not around, as in the case of the makeshift wedge).

Surgeons who later heard the rifleman's story almost invariably remarked, "Well, I'll be damned." One of them wrote a commendation for Private Kinman's presence of mind, resourcefulness and skill.

Last week, soon after Private Kinman was promoted to technician fourth grade. Western Reserve University offered to see him through medical school. T/4 Kinman, who has had only three years of high school, was so stunned at the news that he had to sit down.

Here is a story and picture of Private Hinman from The Daily News, Huntington, PA, Saturday, 23 December, 1944, page 3.

10 December, 2011

10 December 1944

438th AAA AW BN
APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.
Germany
10 December, 1944        1040

Dearest Sweetheart –

It’s Sunday morning again – the time in the week I used to like best dear and the time which I know I will like again. Now “ist es mir egal “ – as the Germans put it; it makes very little difference. My German is coming along fine, by the way, dear. – and I really feel that having majored in it was no waste of time. Although I never spoke it, I did read it well and it’s gratifying to be able to come out with past participles, future perfects, etc. – and correctly too. A most recent patient I took care of asked if I had ever lived in Germany and when I asked her why she asked that, she said I spoke German well enough to have lived here once. That was some compliment, I thought. One patient I have near here, a boy of 14, has studied 4 years of English and when I run into any peculiar constructions I want to use – he helps me more than a book could.

Well last night, sweetheart, several of the officers from the batteries came in and we had a crowd of about 25 of us – the first time we had been anywhere near together for an evening since Sherborne. We mixed up a Punch with some stuff we had and it turned out to be very very potent – so strong in fact, dear, that 4 of the officers passed out early in the evening. It didn’t seem to affect me at all – except of course – I felt pretty high for about 3 hours. All in all – it was good fun getting together – and we’re going to try it all over again probably on Christmas Eve.

I was glad to read, dear, that you’ve been getting my mail – even if a bit late at times – but without any getting lost. I have no file of your letters – so I can’t say for certain, but I believe that eventually I receive all of yours. At present there’s a stack of them missing from November – but they’ll no doubt arrive someday and be just as welcome. No – I don’t worry about the lack of good companionship at Hq. The only one I want – is a lasting, life-long companion – and you’ll be that one for me I know. I’m glad that’s the way you feel about it because I love you, too, sweetheart.

Say – what did you mean about my going to Pete’s battery around the 31st? I wasn’t aware of the coincidence in dates; and why must I be there on the 31st of January – my Birthday? Just what are you concocting anyway? Guess I’ll get no satisfaction out of you. Pete wasn’t in last nite – but I’ll have to look him up and see what he knows about all this –

At the end of your most recent letter – you mention that Irving is out of the hospital and doing well. That came as a surprise – for I didn’t know he was ill again. I suppose I’ll hear the details in another letter.

Well – it is almost noon, now, sweetheart and I must get ready to eat. What’ll we do this afternoon – listen to Philharmonic, play Bridge, go for a ride – or visit? Anything you like, darling. Sorry – just dreaming – but it’s a date for later – right? For now – sweetheart – just remember – I love you, want you and think always of the time we’ll be together in fact.

So long, again, and my love to the folks.

All my everlasting love
Greg

* TIDBIT *

about AMVETS
(American Veterans)



This information was been excerpted from the official website of AMVETS, an organization that provides leadership, advocacy and service to America's veterans.

As one of America’s foremost veterans service organizations, AMVETS (or American Veterans) has a proud history of assisting veterans and sponsoring numerous programs that serve the United States and its citizens. The helping hand that AMVETS extends to veterans and their families takes many forms. One of the most visible is their network of trained national service officers (NSOs) accredited by the Department of Veterans Affairs. Funded by the AMVETS National Service Foundation, these dedicated men and women can be found in close to 40 states, providing sound advice and prompt action on compensation claims at no charge to the veteran.

In one recent year alone, AMVETS national service officers processed more than 24,000 claims that resulted in veterans receiving some $400 million in compensation. This commitment to service traces its roots back to 1948, when our NSOs first began helping veterans of World War II to obtain the benefits promised them by the federal government.

Coincidentally, it was these returning veterans who provided the impetus for forming AMVETS in the first place. At the time, many of them belonged to veterans clubs on college campuses. As the number of returnees swelled into the millions, it was evident that some sort of nationally organized assistance for them would be needed. The older established national groups, such as The Veterans of Foreign Wars, wouldn’t do; the leaders of this new generation of veterans wanted their own organization.

With that in mind, eighteen of them, representing nine veterans clubs, met in Kansas City, Missouri, and founded The American Veterans of World War II on 10 December 1944. Less than three years later, on July 23, 1947, President Harry S. Truman signed Public Law 216, making AMVETS the first World War II organization to be chartered by Congress.

Since then, the original charter has been amended several times to admit as members those who served in different eras. Today, membership in AMVETS is open to anyone who is currently serving, or who has honorably served, in the U.S. Armed Forces from World War II to the present, including the National Guard and Reserves.

Over the years, AMVETS has been in the forefront of public-policy related to national defense, services for homeless veterans, adequate funding for the Department of Veterans Affairs, concurrent receipt of retirement pay and disability compensation by disabled military retirees, veterans employment and training, POW/MIA accountability and flag protection.

In addition to the work of their national service officers, other AMVETS members, as well as those in the AMVETS Ladies Auxiliary, devote as many as 250,000 hours of free time a year to brighten the lives of hospitalized veterans. Here, something as simple as playing cards with the lonely or watching television with the disabled can make a world of difference.

09 December, 2011

09 December 1944

V-MAIL

438th AAA AW BN
APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.
Germany
9 December, 1944        1045

My dearest darling –

Another V-mail for you to excuse, dear, but I can’t help it. Here it is late morning and I still have a whole mess of patients to see – and I haven’t scratched the surface of inspecting B battery – and this is the 3rd or last day allotted me for just that purpose. By tomorrow I should have a little more time.

The mail situation is abominable and I haven’t received a letter from anyone at all for several days. I know I’ll get a whole batch – one of these days – but I don’t like the waiting – do you?

Other than that, dear, things here are reasonably quiet and comfortable – but slow. I guess the Germans fooled us in their tenacity – but they must certainly be near the breaking point now. All for the moment sweetheart – Love to the folks and remember – I do and will love you

Always –
Greg

* TIDBIT *

about More from General Hodges



The snapshots that follow were taken from Normandy to Victory: The War Diary of General Courtney H. Hodges & the First U.S. Army, maintained by his aides Major William C. Sylvan and Captain Francis G. Smith Jr.; edited by John T. Greenwood, copyright 2008 by the Association of the United States Army, pp.201-202.

CLICK TO ENLARGE

08 December, 2011

08 December 1944

438th AAA AW BN
APO 230 % Postmaster, N.Y.
Germany
8 December, 1944       1520

My dearest darling Wilma –>

I thought I’d be writing you tomorrow that I didn’t have any time to write you today and that you’d have to chalk up one more day that I had to miss. I guess there haven’t been too many misses in the 13 months, dear, have there? At any rate, there’s been a little break in my running around and I’m writing you now. You’ll notice, darling, that I don’t write very often – if ever – at night. The reason is the poor lighting facilities which at present consist of a kerosene lamp. We play Bridge by it – with the help of a candle on the opposite corner of the table – but on the whole – it is not very good light for writing.

It’s a funny thing – but by comparison with the summertime – we’re relatively immobile now and yet it doesn’t seem as if I get as much time to sit down and write a decent letter. What I wonder, sometimes, is how my letters were in August and September when we were really eating up the ground and moving every other day or so. I don’t know how I got letters out to you every day, then; making a 60 or 70 mile trip in each forward move – was not unusual. I wish we were doing it now. We haven’t got a heck of a lot more than 300 miles to go, I should say. I think once this bitter fighting is over with – we’ll start traveling swiftly.

Well, sweetheart, after sweating out several days of no mail – I got two from you – the most recent in several months, too – one from the 25th and one from the 26th of November. And I got a real kick out of your story about the clock. I’m amazed it came at all and surprised that there was so much damage to it. As you saw, darling, it was packed pretty well, but I guess they just toss things around anyway they wish. I think I was wrong in not sending a little diagram along to help you put it together – but then look at all the fun you’d miss. I’m not surprised at your not fancying the thing at first. When I saw it – I fell for it immediately – but I didn’t see it in a box; it was resting on a tremendous mantelpiece – in a very large room – drawing room, reception room, – I don’t know which; all the furniture was period and French – and this clock “belonged”. The home, I should say Palace – was that of Baron Maurice de Rothschild and I believe I told you already what a magnificent place it was. So if nothing more, Sweetheart, you at least have a clock that once belonged to the Rothschilds. As for what to do with it, sweetheart – that’s up to you. You might as well use it – if it fits into the house anywhere. Or put it away if it doesn’t. I merely sent it as a memento – and on the spur of the moment did I obtain it –

Well, darling, that’s all for now. It was swell hearing from you again and maybe we’ll get some more regular service now. Be well, dear, and don’t be blue. All will turn out O.K. and we’ll have each other yet. Keep loving me as I love you darling, and that’s all that matters now. Love to everyone at home. So long for now.

All my sincerest love, dear
Greg

* TIDBIT *

about Patton's Prayer
and Christmas Greeting

What follows are excerpts from the the story of how the famous "Patton Prayer" and Christmas Greeting came to be sent to the men of the Third Army on 8 December, 1944, as told by his Chaplain, Colonel James H. O'Neill.

General Patton... had all the traits of military leadership, fortified by genuine trust in God, intense love of country, and high faith in the American soldier... He was true to the principles of his religion, Episcopalian, and was regular in Church attendance and practices, unless duty made his presence impossible.

The incident... commenced with a telephone call to the Third Army Chaplain on the morning of December 8, 1944, when the Third Army Headquarters were located in... Nancy, France: "This is General Patton; do you have a good prayer for weather? We must do something about those rains if we are to win the war." My reply was that I know where to look for such a prayer, that I would locate one, and report within the hour. As I hung up the telephone receiver... I looked out on the steadily falling rain, "immoderate" I would call it -- the same rain that had plagued Patton's Army throughout the Moselle and Saar Campaigns from September until now, December 8. The few prayer books at hand contained no formal prayer on weather that might prove acceptable to the Army Commander. Keeping his immediate objective in mind, I typed an original and an improved copy on a 5" x 3" filing card:

Almighty and most merciful Father, we humbly beseech Thee, of Thy great goodness, to restrain these immoderate rains with which we have had to contend. Grant us fair weather for Battle. Graciously hearken to us as soldiers who call upon Thee that, armed with Thy power, we may advance from victory to victory, and crush the oppression and wickedness of our enemies and establish Thy justice among men and nations.

I pondered the question, What use would General Patton make of the prayer? ... If he intended it for circulation to chaplains or others, with Christmas not far removed, it might he proper to type the Army Commander's Christmas Greetings on the reverse side. This would please the recipient, and anything that pleased the men I knew would please him:

To each officer and soldier in the Third United States Army, I Wish a Merry Christmas. I have full confidence in your courage, devotion to duty, and skill in battle. We march in our might to complete victory. May God's blessings rest upon each of you on this Christmas Day. G.S. Patton, Jr, Lieutenant General, Commanding, Third United States Army.

This done, I donned my heavy trench coat... and reported to General Patton. He read the prayer copy, returned it to me with a very casual directive, "Have 250,000 copies printed and see to it that every man in the Third Army gets one." The size of the order amazed me; this was certainly doing something about the weather in a big way. But I said nothing but the usual, "Very well, Sir!" Recovering, I invited his attention to the reverse side containing the Christmas Greeting, with his name and rank typed. "Very good," he said, with a smile of approval. "If the General would sign the card, it would add a personal touch that I am sure the men would like." He took his place at his desk, signed the card, returned it to me.


He then said: "Chaplain, sit down for a moment; I want to talk to you about this business of prayer." He rubbed his face in his hands, was silent for a moment, then rose and walked over to the high window, and stood there with his back toward me as he looked out on the falling rain. As usual, he was dressed stunningly, and his six-foot-two powerfully built physique made an unforgettable silhouette against the great window. The General Patton I saw there was the Army Commander to whom the welfare of the men under him was a matter of personal responsibility... What was coming now?

"Chaplain, how much praying is being done in the Third Army?" was his question. I parried: "Does the General mean by chaplains, or by the men?" "By everybody," he replied. To this I countered: "I am afraid to admit it, but I do not believe that much praying is going on. When there Is fighting, everyone prays, but now with this constant rain -- when things are quiet, dangerously quiet, men just sit and wait for things to happen. Prayer out here is difficult. Both chaplains and men are removed from a special building with a steeple. Prayer to most of them is a formal, ritualized affair, involving special posture and a liturgical setting. I do not believe that much praying is being done."

The General left the window, and again seated himself at his desk, leaned back in his swivel chair, toying with a long lead pencil between his index fingers.

"Chaplain, I am a strong believer in Prayer. There are three ways that men get what they want; by planning, by working, and by Praying. Any great military operation takes careful planning, or thinking. Then you must have well-trained troops to carry it out: that's working. But between the plan and the operation there is always an unknown. That unknown spells defeat or victory, success or failure. It is the reaction of the actors to the ordeal when it actually comes. Some people call that getting the breaks; I call it God. God has His part, or margin in everything, That's where prayer comes in. Up to now, in the Third Army, God has been very good to us. We have never retreated; we have suffered no defeats, no famine, no epidemics. This is because a lot of people back home are praying for us. We were lucky in Africa, in Sicily, and in Italy. Simply because people prayed. But we have to pray for ourselves, too. A good soldier is not made merely by making him think and work. There is something in every soldier that goes deeper than thinking or working--it's his "guts." It is something that he has built in there: it is a world of truth and power that is higher than himself. Great living is not all output of thought and work. A man has to have intake as well. I don't know what you call it, but I call it Religion, Prayer, or God..."

To all this I commented agreement, that one of the major training objectives of my office was to help soldiers recover and make their lives effective in this third realm, prayer. It would do no harm to re-impress this training on chaplains. We had about 486 chaplains in the Third Army at that time, representing 32 denominations. Once the Third Army had become operational, my mode of contact with the chaplains had been chiefly through Training Letters issued from time to time to the Chaplains in the four corps and the 22 to 26 divisions comprising the Third Army. Each treated of a variety of subjects of corrective or training value to a chaplain working with troops in the field.

[Patton continued:]

"I wish you would put out a Training Letter on this subject of Prayer to all the chaplains; write about nothing else, just the importance of prayer. Let me see it before you send it. We've got to get not only the chaplains but every man in the Third Army to pray. We must ask God to stop these rains. These rains are that margin that hold defeat or victory. If we all pray, it will be like what Dr. Carrel said [the allusion was to a press quote some days previously when Dr. Alexis Carrel, one of the foremost scientists, described prayer "as one of the most powerful forms of energy man can generate"], it will be like plugging in on a current whose source is in Heaven. I believe that prayer completes that circuit. It is power."

With that the General arose from his chair, a sign that the interview was ended. I returned to my field desk, typed Training Letter No. 5 while the "copy" was "hot," touching on some or all of the General's reverie on Prayer, and after staff processing, presented it to General Patton on the next day. The General read it and without change directed that it be circulated not only to the 486 chaplains, but to every organization commander down to and including the regimental level. Three thousand two hundred copies were distributed to every unit in the Third Army over my signature as Third Army Chaplain. Strictly speaking, it was the Army Commander's letter, not mine. Due to the fact that the order came directly from General Patton, distribution was completed on December 11 and 12 in advance of its date line, December 14, 1944. Titled "Training Letter No. 5," with the salutary "Chaplains of the Third Army," the letter continued: "At this stage of the operations I would call upon the chaplains and the men of the Third United States Army to focus their attention on the importance of prayer.

"Our glorious march from the Normandy Beach across France to where we stand, before and beyond the Siegfried Line, with the wreckage of the German Army behind us should convince the most skeptical soldier that God has ridden with our banner. Pestilence and famine have not touched us. We have continued in unity of purpose. We have had no quitters; and our leadership has been masterful. The Third Army has no roster of Retreats. None of Defeats. We have no memory of a lost battle to hand on to our children from this great campaign..."

"Those who pray do more for the world than those who fight; and if the world goes from bad to worse, it is because there are more battles than prayers... Urge all of your men to pray, not alone in church, but everywhere. Pray when driving. Pray when fighting. Pray alone. Pray with others. Pray by night and pray by day. Pray for the cessation of immoderate rains, for good weather for Battle. Pray for the defeat of our wicked enemy whose banner is injustice and whose good is oppression. Pray for victory. Pray for our Army, and Pray for Peace..."

"Be assured that this message on prayer has the approval, the encouragement, and the enthusiastic support of the Third United States Army Commander..."

The timing of the Prayer story is important. Both the Prayer Cards and Training Letter No. 5 reached the troops by December 12-14. The German breakthrough was on December 16 in the First Army Zone when the Germans crept out of the Schnee Eifel Forest in the midst of heavy rains, thick fogs, and swirling ground mists that muffled sound, blotted out the sun, and reduced visibility to a few yards. The few divisions on the Luxembourg frontier... found it hard to fight an enemy they could neither see nor hear... The German Sixth Panzer Army... seared through the Ardennes like a hot knife through butter. The First Army's VIII Corps was holding this area with three infantry divisions thinly disposed over an 88-mile front and with one armored division far to the rear, in reserve... It was considered a semi-rest area and outside of a little patrolling was wholly an inactive position.

When the blow struck, the VIII Corps fought with imperishable heroism. The Germans were slowed down but the Corps was too shattered to stop them with its remnants. Meanwhile, to the north, the Fifth Panzer Army was slugging through another powerful prong along the vulnerable boundary between the VIII and VI Corps. Had the bad weather continued there is no telling how far the Germans might have advanced. On the 19th of December, the Third Army turned from East to North to meet the attack. As General Patton rushed his divisions north from the Saar Valley to the relief of the beleaguered Bastogne, the prayer was answered.

On December 20, to the consternation of the Germans and the delight of the American forecasters who were equally surprised at the turn-about-the rains and the fogs ceased. For the better part of a week came bright clear skies and perfect flying weather. Our planes came over by tens, hundreds, and thousands. They knocked out hundreds of tanks, killed thousands of enemy troops in the Bastogne salient, and harried the enemy as he valiantly tried to bring up reinforcements. The 101st Airborne, with the 4th, 9th, and 10th Armored Divisions, which saved Bastogne, and other divisions which assisted so valiantly in driving the Germans home, will testify to the great support rendered by our air forces. General Patton prayed for fair weather for Battle. He got it.

It was late in January of 1945 when I saw the Army Commander again. This was in the city of Luxembourg. He stood directly in front of me, smiled: "Well, Padre, our prayers worked. I knew they would." Then he cracked me on the side of my steel helmet with his riding crop. That was his way of saying, "Well done."

To further show his appreciation, General Patton awarded the Bronze Star Medal to Chaplain O'Neill. Chaplain James H. O'Neill retired as a Brigadier General.