A
grand day for an airborne invasion to be postponed for 24 hours, yes, June 4,
1944 was just that! It was cloudy and rainy, ceilings were low, visibility was
negligible, not that these factors made much difference to the paratroopers because
when they got the word, "GO", they would do just that, rain or no rain.
The trouble lay in the fact that the Air Corps, those pilots in the Army Transport
Command, would be unable to definitely establish the D.Z. (Drop Zone) on which
we were to land after parachuting from their airplanes--so they had to have clear
sailing, and also they had to return to the airfields from whence they came, whereas
we were on our own and in a few seconds we would have completed our first phase
of the attack, that of jumping from the plane and arriving at a point on the ground
from which reorganization would take place and our mission started. Postponement
meant another day to complete last minute details maps, routes, and our plans
once more. It meant one more chance to write home, another movie to attend, and
most of all--good chow and another night of sleep--on a cot and under blankets--good
thoughts those!
June fifth came as clear
as a bell and we knew even before the word was passed out that we were to go this
time no matter what the weather was. We were ready for it, we were all green troops
but we were good green troops and we knew it, we should have known it, we had
been told it many, many times: by our new division commander, Major General Ridgway;
by his assistant, Brigadier General Gavin; by General Chapman, former Commandant
of the Airborne Command; by General Howell, former Commandant of the Parachute
School, and now Commander of the 2nd Parachute Brigade; and by our
own senior officers, and so we were good, and we were good and ready to go!
Our
planes had been loaded with our equipment bundles the day that we were originally
scheduled for our take off, so all that we had to do in regard to the bundles
was to have them guarded against possible tampering and to give them a last minute
check to be certain that recognition lights were still intact and ready; and that
the bundles were tied in "Daisy Chain" fashion (they were tied to one
another to keep all of the bundles together upon dropping): that the automatic
release was still on, enabling the crew chief to release them at the predetermined
second, and that the bands of illuminus spaghetti (string like illuminus bands)
were still intact.
So the day of the fifth
of June passed and at 2000 hours (8:00PM) we started putting on the equipment
which we were to wear on our first combat descent. It consisted of our usual clothing-uniforms,
and boots, plus a jump suit impregnated against gas. It is very uncomfortable
and we detested it, but we learned to appreciate it, even though not in the way
intended. Then came our trench knife, strapped to our leg so as to be able
to reach it in case we had to cut our way free of our chute, or needed to serve
a purpose after we landed on the ground and did not want to fire our weapons to
avoid shooting our own troops or giving our positions away to the enemy who might
be in the vicinity of our landing. Then we put our "K" and "D"
rations in our pockets, along with our map cases (litttle home made affairs of
eisenglass to protect the surface of our maps of France); and we put on our jack-knives,
a Gammon grenade, two or three fragmentation grenades, a thermite grenade, our
bottle of Halozen tablets to help purify water that we might have to drink, and
various and sundry articles for our individual use- and comfort. Then came our
pistol belt, with magazines of ammunition attached, as well as an entrenching
tool, a compass, a first aid packet of the infantry type, was in addition to the
parachutist first aid packet which we tied to our shoulder strap, and a canteen
filled with water. Also we had a musette bag loaded with extra under-clothes,
socks, rain coat, cleaning material, flash light and other personal items. We
also attached an anti-tank mine to our shoulder rings and it hung in front of
our body. I carried a .45 Colt pistol on my right hip, a .30 caliber U.S Carbine
in a "violin" case attached to my right side over my pistol. A gas mask
hung under the carbine case and a pair of binoculars hung from my neck. The
parachute came next--after tugging and pulling, and with some help, I finally
succeeded in correctly placing my chest straps and the two leg straps in their
respective positions. The reserve parachute pack was attached to "V"
rings on the main chute harness in the front of my body on my chest. I also had
a 536 radio over my left shoulder and an extra bag hanging below my musette bag.
In it I had extra 536 batteries and company records, and odds and ends for use
at the CP (Command Post) after landing and reorganizing. My heavy steel helmet
and liner, with an OD color face and head helmet, knitted by my sister for inclement
weather or any other necessary purpose, completed my uniform and load, making
me weigh approximately 300 pounds in all.
Our
Jumpmaster, Captain Alton Bell, Battalion Executive Officer and our S-3 (Plans
and training officer), Captain Hillman C. Dress aided me into the plane--the "PAGLIACCI",
and at 2215 hours (10:15 PM) all 18 parachutists of that "Stick" were
in their seats in the plane. I was number 16 and behind me were our operations
sergeant and our draftsman, Sgt. Warren Peak and Sgt. Calvin W. Hall, respectively.
We were right up against the cockpit trying to get comfortable in our small seats
regardless of the unusual load attached to our persons.
At
2245 hours (10:45 PM) after our pilot and crew had arrived and had warmed the
engine up we started to move from our bay onto the runway amidst a roar which
made it nearly impossible for us to think, much less talk to one another.
It was just getting dark and all that we could see out of the small windows were
a few field lights and the guide lights on the other planes. We could make out
the hedge rows, water, and roads when we flew over them. After we had started
flying, the men began to smoke and a few talked. I spoke a few words to Sgt. Peak
and to Cpl. King S. Burke, one of the Battalion Intelligence Section non-commissioned
officers, who was #15 in our stick. Then I tried to settle in a sleep. It was
a fitful sleep and hard to continue what with the little bucket seat and the great
big load we had to place there The door through which we were going to leave the
plane was wide open, making it a bit cool inside, so I just snuggled down in the
seat as far as I could. It really didn't help much.
Soon
we were over the marsh lands and then the English Channel showed up. The channel
was beautiful with the moon reflecting on it and making it look all silvery and
made me think of the moon and it's reflection on the Atlantic Seashore at home.
But it also looked cold and uninviting. By this time all cigarettes were out
and no lights were showing inside the plane. We were getting into bombing range
and one wee light showing might give the whole formation away and possibly disrupt
the entire operation. In a few more minutes we passed between the islands
off the French coast (Jersey and Guernsey Islands) and knew that we were within
20 minutes of our drop zone. Soon the coast of France came along--along wit dull
pounding of ack ack guns and flack guns. The plane began to pitch, roll, and bump
as a toy boat or, a turbulent stream and we were being bumped about quite a bit.
No one was saying much--just asking if each other was ok, or, "did you hear
that one?", meaning flack or tracer bullets from the enemy guns below us.
Meanwhile, there had been quite a bit of commotion at the front of our plane.
We, in the rear, couldn't quite see or hear enough of it to understand. In fact,
I believe that some of us in the rear of the stick did not know anything unusual
was going on up front. Later I found out that when we had passed between Jersey
and Guernsey islands and we had received the 20 minutes to drop warning, one private
Calhoun, said to our Jumpmaster, Capt. Bell, "My chute has broken open".
So, in the brief space of less than 20 minutes Calhoun was relieved of his equipment
and chute-the rear of which had broken open, and another parachute substituted
and all of the equipment replaced so that he was ready to go, and did jump with
the rest of us when we got the green light -- that means GO! The four minutes
warning light came on just a few miles from our DZ (Drop zone).
Our
C-47 was now bouncing around in the air--really bouncing--going up and down and
it seemed as if we were bucking ocean waves rather that ether waves. Our Jumpmaster,
Capt. Bell let out a yell, "STAND UP AND HOOK UP''--- and at once 18 left
arms struck at the anchor line cable with their static line snap fastener. It
took some of us a bit longer to hook up than it did others because we were so
crowded with 18 men in line, and having such loads attached to us, and also because
the plane was resembling a bucking bronco and that cable line just wouldn't stay
in place. Finally we were all hooked up. Then we were checked and all reported
as all set--"OK". I was holding onto the cable line for dear life
and my hands, my right one on the cable line and my left one on the snap fastener
were nearly being wrenched free of their holdings. My right arm was nearly ripped
from its socket. It seemed we couldn't hold on much longer, nor could we stand
upright much linger. "LET'S GO". The green light came on--just a
thin slit of the bulb was showing so as not to make too much light in the airplane--it
having been tapped prior to the take off--same as had been done to the red light
bulb. It took just a few seconds for me to clear the door and once outside
just a short, time to feel the awful, yet over-welcome, jerk of the opening shock
as the parachute billowed out into the night air. Then I looked up towards the
fast disappearing plane and I saw two chutes above me-signifying that the two
men behind me in the stick were also airborne and floating towards the ground,
and towards me. They too had jumped just as the 15 men ahead of me had--our plane
had a perfect record for the Normandy Jump. I hoped that all of our planes did.
I could see the tracer bullets of all colors being shot towards us. I wasn't
afraid of the ones that I could see, it was those in between, the invisible ones,
that had me wondering if they had my name attached to them.
I
landed without being hit, but I heard later that the #15 man, Burke had been shot
through the wrist as he was holding his risers. I could see tracers going through
the canopies of the two men who were above me--the two who jumped after I had
left the "PAGLIACCI" and was praying for them to land without being
hit. Later I learned that they arrived on the ground ok, as did all the others
except Cpl King Burke. He was taken care of and joined us at a later date.
As I was descending I was trying with all of my strength to turn myself around
so that I wouldn't come into the ground backwards. I just couldn't get turned
around--all my efforts did were to make me slip to my back. I saw the planes leaving
us amid machine gun bullets galore and I saw many machine gun nests on the ground-and
streams of traced pouring through the air and I decided in a twinkling that I
would have to steer clear of them when I did land. I was 250 feet above the ground
when I jumped--#16, in an 18 man stick. Then--SWISH--through about three quarters
of an apple tree!!!! I didn't hit the ground--I was left hanging in the apple
tree--dangling about one foot off the ground. I got no landing shock due to being
caught by the tree-- I thought of, "Only God Can Make a Tree" -Kilmer.
I was under HIS Guidance-- I knew and I said, "Thanks". But, I couldn't
seem to get myself free of the parachute, struggle as I did. I got my trench knife
and started cutting AT my risers and at my leg straps. I couldn't seem to make
much headway. The leg straps and the chest straps were pulled tightly against
my body and I even had a hard time to slide my knife under any of them. Another
thing that made it hard for me to work my way free was the fact that every other
minute someone would run by me on the ground and it was impossible for me to see
them to distinguish their identity--so when some one was approaching I had to
quit struggling to get myself free. If I didn't do this I thought that I would
drop from the pot into the fire. After they passed by, I started trying to get
free again. Finally my risers slipped enough to drop me the remaining foot
or so to the terra firma. I fell into a thicket of briars and nettles and as I
lay sawing away with the trench knife that I had supposed was razor sharp-- I
was burning all over my hands and face--but that was better than being burned
or even seared or scorched by those Jerry machine gun bullets that were being
spewed out over the country side and would have come my way in a moment if I had
been detected. Why--there was one nest about 100 yards from me--covering my whole
front to the north and to the west.
I could
hear other men breathing and whispering the pass word and receiving the counter
sign and I found out that the men were three other paratroopers--right there in
the ditch beside me--all watching that machine gun spit death to anyone in the
way. We decided to move to the north west in order to get where we figured
our unit would be. But because of that machine gun we were forced to go the long
way around which took us north and east--and the further we went the more machine
guns we ran into, so we had to keep bearing east. A corporal from the 508th
acted as my scout, and a private from the same company followed me; then two 307th
Engineers brought up our rear. We came to a main road running North and South
but didn't t dare stay on it so we crossed, We found some wires running along
the road-the 307th Engineers said they were communication wires so
we cut them in many pieces, covered the pieces in ditches so that the German linemen
would have some work to do to restore normal communication. After following
hedges north and east for a time we started due north again. During our journey
we had seen a C-47 crash in flames some distance from us and I can still hear
engines roaring, becoming silent; roaring again, flaming and I can still see it
disappear behind yonder hill--Finis--to one of ours ---May God Bless! We saw
other C-47's after they had released Gliders to go their way and we saw Gliders
skimming earthward---Good! We thought--things are going as planned and help and
supplies are arriving all of the time.
As
we moved forward we came across parachute equipment, some loose, some in bundles
still unopened, and a few opened with part of the load removed-part still there.
From one bundle we took a bazooka and twelve rockets. We exchanged an M-1 rifle
which had a snapped stock-a casualty of the jump, for this bazooker. Over
more hedges, always bearing to the North we went--all of a sudden we came upon
a trail on which were two tents and two motor cycles. We found, after a close
and careful investigation, being ever on the alert for booby traps and hidden
alarms, that there was nobody there and that it was the CP (Command Post) of some
officer of the German army. We destroyed the motorcycles immediate use by slashing
all tires and turned the contents of the CP into a pile in the center of the tent.
We then left, continuing on the trail towards a large stone house further along
the trail and across a field. Across this field and another road we ran into
Lt. Harold Richard, "A" Company, 508th Parachute Infantry,
and his communications sergeant, Sgt Hall, We were well acquainted, having served
together since the activation of the Regiment at Camp Blanding, Florida. It was
nice being with two more of our regiment and we were glad to have met at this
time. After a conference we decided to ask directions at the large stone farmhouse
mentioned above, which was about fifty yards away, we had about 12 enlisted men
and two officers in our party now. We split up and surrounded the house. Lt. Richard,
one enlisted man and I pounded on the door of the house. In a few seconds a very
excited Frenchman came rushing--or gushing is more like it-out of the door. Several
other occupants of the house were looking out of windows on the ground floor as
well as from windows on the upper stores of the house. By using our French Guide
book and maps we found that we were between PICAUVILLE AND ETIENVILLE. Good! We
were about midway between the two places and now had a definite location from
which we could plan on future moves to get with our own troops. In the house the
up stairs windows were alive with little kiddos, wild eyed at seeing the American
uniforms instead of the usual German ones.
I
said, "Here comes a car -- STOP IT"-- Lt. Richard moved out of the door
way towards the side of the house and some of the men went to the stone wall at
the end of the house -- the house doors shut and I went to the road and put my
hand up and yelled, "STOP" --but the car came on faster -- when the
car went by me I ran to the other side of the road and I guess that all of us
fired at the car at the same time as a dozen or more shot rang out and I, on the
far side of the road, found myself in line of fire from the others in our group.
I fell to the road and watched the car as it was hit by many shots, and saw the
car crash into the stone wall and possibly the side of the house as the driver
lost control of the car as he slouched in the front seat trying to avoid being
hit by the bullets that filled the air around the car. The car was full of bullet
holes and the windsheild was shattered. The chauffeur, a German Corporal,
was thrown from the front seat of the car and was trying to hide in a cellar window,
or trying to gain entrance into the cellar of the house, but couldn't make it.
An officer sitting on the front seat of the car was found later, slumped onto
the floor with his head and shoulders hanging out the open front door, dead. The
other occupant of the car, who had been riding in the back seat of the Dusenberg
or Mercedes Phaeton, was in the middle of the road crawling towards a Luger pistol
that had been knocked from his grasp when the car hit the stone wall and house.
I had crossed the road after the car sped past me as I tried to halt its forward
progress, climbed upon a hedge row six or more feet above the road bed, and had
a perfect view of the immediate situation, including the road, the house, the
car, and the personnel--German, French and American. From my position above
the dusty, dirty road I saw the German Corporal trying to escape by crawling into
the cellar of the house and I fired my .45 Colt pistol at him -- grazing his shoulder
and saw him sit down beside the house, where our enlisted men attended his slight
wound. I also watched a German officer crawling in the road towards his Luger
lying in the road several feet in front of his position. He looked at me as I
stood on the hedge above him, and 15 feet to his right, and as he inched closer
and closer to his weapon he pleaded to me in German and also saying in English,
"DON'T KILL, DON'T KILL". I thought, "I'm not a cold hearted killer,
I'm human --but if he gets that Luger, it is either him or me or one or more of
my men". So I shot! He was hit in the forehead and never knew it. He suffered
none. The blood spurted from his forehead about six feet high, and, like water
in a fountain when it is shut off, it gradually subsided. Upon examining the
personnel that we had encountered we found that we had killed a Major and a Major
General (later learned that he was a Lieutenant General) and had as a captive,
a Corporal, whom we made carry two brief cases that were full of official papers
that we had found in the car, and our intention was to turn the papers in to our
headquarters when we rejoined the 508th Parachute Infantry Regiment, As we
left the scene, I tore the General's hat apart, looking for further identification
of name or unit to which he was assigned --I found only a name printed in it --the
name was "FALLEY" --I thought, "I have a Steve FALLET in my light
machine gun platoon".
We thought that
the sooner we left this spot the better it would be, so we headed south west,
towards ETIENVILLE, the town in which our second battalion was to engage the Germans.
They were to capture it! Later on we found out that it took two divisions, plus
all their artillery and Air Corps bombings to finally capture it. Quite a mission
for one unorganized battalion of paratroopers, which is considerably less in size
than a battalion of regular infantry. Anyway, we headed that way, with the same
508th corporal as scout that I had when I met Lt. Richard. I followed
the corporal scout. Then came Lt. Richard, Sgt Hall and the German Corporal,
prisoner, Sgt Johnson and the rest of our men. Our rear guard was a good man from
the 307th Engineers. We kept close to hedge rows and avoided several
houses before coming to a secondary road and then a small settlement. We went
right through the group of houses and turned west into a yard with a large barn
beside a driveway that went past the rear of the barn and passed through a fence,
or hedge and stone wall, showing a large expanse of field several hundred yards
long and wide. My scout and I went to the South of the barn toward the opening
in the hedge row; the others went to the North of the barn and house towards the
solid hedge row. I saw no one moving in the large field and hesitated while trying
to decide what our next move should be when I looked back and saw most of the
men just passing the barn. I yelled at the rear guard Engineer, "Watch our
rear --don't let anyone creep up on us --don't violate our rear security".
No sooner had I said that than BANG-- that same Engineer shot and killed a German
who was aiming his weapon directly at my scout and or me! Whew--close. Upon investigation
we found a phone and wires in the barn--which we quickly destroyed.
Now
what to do? We thought that anyone in the vicinity surely heard that shot and
of course would be more alert for anyone or thing moving in the area. Before us
was a draw, an open field two or three hundred yards long and wide and completely
visible for possible enemy emplaced on the other side of the field. My scout and
I were standing beside the hedge, next to the opening, looking over the situation
when I heard a "SNAP-SNAP--and heard the scout say, "'Who Shot Me?".
My scout turned towards me, looked at me with the most pitiful look on his face
that I had ever seen. When he said that to me I realized that I also was out from
cover and dove to my right, behind the hedge. As I jumped, and before I could
answer him, I heard two more "PINGS"-saw my corporal's bewildered face,
saw a stream of blood actually gush from his mouth, and saw him fall straight
down on his face, arms outstreched and his heels wide apart --pointing to the
heavens! Reaction! Realization! There was the first American that I had actually
seen killed--a paratrooper--a corporal from our own 508th--could it
be? More rifle fire snapped me back to the reality of the situation that I was
facing and I pulled the corporal out of the opening and to the hedge, when I saw
just a solid hedge--no opening for me to go through and out of sight of the Germans
who were shooting at us from across the draw. I thought, "I'll have to buck
the line". The first two bucks did more damage to me than to the hedge --but
the third put me nearly through and I pulled and fought my way to cover on the
other side of the hedge. All of this action seemed like it took a lot of time
but in reality it was only a few minutes from the time when we first entered the
barn yard. We decided to get out of the area in which we had spent the last few
hectic minutes, so we ran around the house and barn, past a couple more houses,
and really ran down the road that we had just passed over, actually running for
our lives now. Rifle fire had ceased but voices were following so we knew that
we had to keep going as fast as we could and put as much distance between the
voices and ourselves. We went north and west to see if we could get into the 3rd
Battalion, 508th sector.
At a cross road
we met a young Frenchman who told us that the main part of PICAUVILLE was to our
right a little further up the road. While at this cross road we decided that our
equipment was too bulky and was a hinderance to fast travel which was imperative
now due to the nearness of the voices that were pursuing us. We removed our gas
masks, figuring that the Germans would not use gas since so many of their own
troops were in the area. We took what materials that we needed or wanted from
our musette bags and other containers and then we piled all of the items which
we were to leave behind in a ditch, or rather in a space between two mounds of
dirt beside the road. We piled the items and covered them so that you wouldn't
see them unless you were actually looking for such a cache. Much lighter,
we took off but kept being pushed north and east, rather than north and west,
by the large number of German machine gun positions that we encountered. It seemed
that every time that we got a good start in the direction that we were heading
we had to make a detour for the above reason. The voices were getting closer
so we took off to the only patch of woods available that we figured would give
us some cover and perhaps throw our chasers off of our track. The sun was just
pouring down upon us, making us very hot dusty and thirsty. Also, since it had
been a long time since we had eaten anything, we were hungry. Being in such a
physical state of discomfort, and being winded from our rapid flight we thought
that a few minutes break was in order. A guard was established and the men
not an duty napped. Two or three men did not nap, but stayed awake and talked
in low tones and kept very still lest our movement be spotted by some German who
was just roaming around. I sat facing our prisoner and the two brief cases.
I tried to catnap but my eyes just wouldn't leave the German. I didn't trust him:
one quick move and he could have had either an M-1 or a few yards get away. Neither
would have done him any good because he would have been shot in quick order, but
that would have brought the Germans an us, or at least given our position away--and
we didn't want either of those complications. But, to give the prisoner his due--he
was exemplary--he just followed along in line, walked, ran, covered up when necessary,
and never once made a move that made us suspicious of his intentions. When we
moved--he moved; when we stopped--he stopped. He kept the proper interval
between the men next to him and never made a noise. I knew that his shoulder was
in pain from the wound that he had received, but he was just like one of us and
the only difference was that we were carrying weapons and he was carrying two
brief cases full of official papers. About the time that we really enjoying
the break, we heard more voices and some shots right near us--right on the trail
we had used to come into these woods. Up we got, and with our line of march in
the same order, except for the scout, who was now one private, Jack Quigg, Co.
I, 505th Parachute Infantry , from Pennsylvania, The woods that
we were now in were not dense, in fact rather light, but they were unkept and
were filled with brush, briars and some long grass. These facts made it difficult
to travel very fast, and to our left we could see an open field which we had to
avoid so we would not be seen by the Germans chasing us. Into a ditch on the South
side of the area we went. This ditch separated the woods from a field so we took
to the ditch. We moved upright when we could, lower when we had to, and crept
when it was necessary to keep below the top of the ditch and the top of the field.
At times we just lay still--hardly daring to breathe for fear one of our enemy
might see or hear us. The field was about two feet higher than the bottom of the
ditch in most places. When the voices got louder and neared to us we had to stay
still. We could hear the bullets snapping as they went over our heads. The
Germans hunted us systematically, taking routes a few yards apart and going from
one boundary to the other, and then doubled back, a few yards apart from their
original route. They came running from the field to the woods and vice-versa and
each time that they came to the ditch they would jump it. But they kept their
eyes on the area in which they were to land and by so doing they didn't look into
the ditch. We were lucky that they were so careful of their landing place.
The moment that we heard a voice get a bit faint, we moved forward -inch by inch,
under long thorns; under fallen trees, between trees and the sides of the ditch--scratched,
bleeding, sweating, aching, but never giving up. At last our pursuers seemed
to have gone and we continued to creep and crawl away from the last possible enemy.
I thought how lucky that they did not have blood hounds or any type of dog with
them; we surely would have been found--captured, if not killed on the spot. But
they didn't! We kept going east. That ditch seemed 800 yards long; perhaps it
was 300-400-more or less, but it was 800 yards hard, though. Quigg was tired and
showed it; breaking that kind of a trail was a real man's job and it was well
done. We all now felt completely justified of having discarded the items that
we did several hours ago before we were hunted and pursued so intensely. With
Quigg leading, we moved from the field north and east through the very same woods
that we had just been chased through to the field that we had avoided while being
chased. Quigg stopped suddenly, hit the ground, and I waved the rest of our group
to get down as quickly as possible---on the field in front of us--about 100-150
yards wide we saw a scene familiar in training exercises but not looked for in
actual combat --A chow line! We stayed low and watched the German soldiers
line up for their noon-day meal. They were in varied state of dress--some had
their coats open, some had then buttoned and some had none at all. Some had steel
helmets and some didn't. Some had their helmets on and some carried theirs. Some
had weapons in their hands, across their backs and some were dragging theirs.
One or two were yelling, maybe orders for the others; others were laughing and
at least one was singing at the top of his voice. All were jovial to say the least.
And not a one of them were aware that about a dozen American paratroopers were
about 150 yards from them, watching them frolic in the warm noonday sun! Wow!
It was a sight to be hold--one to see and not to be seen! While we were watching
the progress of the chow line we began to think of getting away from it before
the participants finished and started strolling across the field and into the
woods that we were hiding in, watching their every move and wishing that we could
partake in their food. We decided that we would go east and try to get around
the field where the chow line was set up and was, I'm, sure greatly enjoyed--by
the Germans.
We moved in an eastly direction
and saw where the two fields that we had been concerned with during the last couple
of hours converged. There was a stream between them and a small foot bridge over
the stream. We arrived at this point just in time to see a German cross the bridge
and move towards the chow line. He disappeared behind us and then two officers
came along the same path. Then went up on to the bridge and stood there, looking
into the stream and appeared to be discussing a problem, because every few sentences
one or the other would raise his hand and arm and gesture as though emphasizing
a point.
After minutes that seemed like hours
the two German officers moved across the bridge and disappeared in the direction
of the chow line site. We waited for them to get out of sight and hearing
and to make sure that there was not anybody else coming to the place at which
we were making our plans to get out of the area and to get to our respective units.
We surveyed the situation and the area from a point near the bridge. To the
right there was a large open field just beyond a road; to the left was a path
leading to a road and a field beyond--all just a few yards away. We seemed to
be at the junction of several fields, a couple of roads or trails, and a few yards
away was a stream flowing south. Quigg, Lt. Richard, Sgt Hall and myself moved
to the stream bed. We wanted to go north and since the stream was partially covered
and concealed b trees and brush along its bank we thought it might be a good covered
route to move where we wanted to go. I stepped into the stream and sunk up to
my waist at once-and immediately backed out. It would be too hard and slow to
use such a route. We then decided to go by path or road in a southerly direction
and then turn east and resume our parade north. We could see and hear gun crews
to our immediate northwest across the open field which aided us in making our
decision. Just as we started to move in the direction decided upon we had
to take cover because a German soldier was crossing the field directly in our
route. After a few minutes wait we resumed our forward progress. More ditches,
more walking, stooping, crawling, and creeping. We crossed the path on which the
German had been on and then we took to a ditch bearing east. In this ditch we
only had to crawl at intervals when the left bank got so low that we could be
seen, from the open field. After crossing a small open space we once more
were safely in a small wooded area and decided that another short break was in
order. It was a beautiful grove of pine trees--all tail and majestic--and I thought
of Joyce Kilmer and his "'Trees" again. The trees produced a wonderful
pine oder, were tall enough to keep the sun out and let the cool air circulate.
It was, as some one said, "a beautiful place to have a picnic".
We thought that it was so nice that we could plan our immediate future while resting
on a blanket of pine needles that the beautiful trees have supplied. We put
out guards, kept our prisoner in good view, and decided that we would go in an
easterly direction to see if we could get to our own troops before dark. All
was serene for about 30 seconds and all of a sudden German voices, right close,
nearly took us out of our minds, and along with the voices were about 25--30 Germans
either relieving a gun crew in that vicinity, or on a patrol--possibly looking
for us! We got up silently and very quickly and moved north for a few yards and
came to the edge of the woods and looked out upon what ordinarily would have been
a nice, wide field, but now it was a real hazzard. We tried to cross it by crawling.
I started, but only made ten yards in what seemed to be several minutes so I had
to turn back, and as I returned to the edge of the woods I looked to the southeast
corner approximately 200 yards distant and saw a sight that we hadn't been able
to understand. It was a German standing on a fence and waving to us, beckoning
us to come his way. At first a faint hope entered our minds that at last we had
reached one of our units. In sign language I asked our prisoner if that was
a German. He said, "Yar". I then asked him if the man was a soldat.
Again he said, "Yar". I then asked him if the soldier knew that
we were Americans-by using sign language and pointing to the American flag on
our shoulders --Again,"Yar". Then I asked, " Are there many
soldats and were they coming after us"? He once again, said, "Yar".
This "Yar", was the automatic signal to take off from that lone figure
and the fast approaching voices, Once again Quigg led off, in an easterly
direction. I was behind him and Lt. Richard was near the end of the column with
the prisoner ahead of him. Quigg and I got so far ahead of the others that
we had gone one field east and were on the next field before we waited for the
rest to catch up. I then told Lt Richard to go north one field, and then go east
at the next field and we would meet him at the road that we could see a couple
of fields to the east. We knew that it was a road because we had seen motor cycles
passing along it while we were approaching it. Looking back we saw about 25 or
30 German soldiers following us. Full speed straight ahead was now the order.
Quigg and I reached and crossed the road and hid in the hedge and stone wall on
the other side. We waited for five minutes, looked back to where we had last seen
Lt. Richard, saw no movement, and then we went north along a hedge for about 200
yards and hid in an opening in the hedge, right behind a cow-shed and 100 yards
or less, in front of a large set of buildings. Here we covered the entrance and
camouflaged ourselves and waited for what was going to happen to us next. We were
hoping that the rest of the group that we had spent the last several hours fleeing
the Germans with would rush across the road as we had done, and then climb through
the hedge and head for us. Out of the clear came shots-five minutes of shooting
in the very area in which our friends were--and then silence. We discussed
it, Quigg and I. Had they been killed? Or captured? Or had they gotten away and
reached safety? Who Knows? Would we ever find out? It meant that now Quigg and
I were on our own. We came to a decision--we would wait right where we were and
at mid-night we would take off, going North and West and see what happened between
mid-night and light of day. It was 1900 hours--7:00 P.M. at this time, so
a five hour wait was in store for us. I got up to look around a bit from our hiding
place. Through an opening in the rear I could plainly see a large house and barn,
and to my horror, Germans rushing around as though getting ready to chase some
small group of Americans. I was watching an opening in the hedge across the field
towards the big house when three Germans, fully dressed and camouflaged, stepped
in the opening. I froze, leaning on a mud bank with my elbows in a small opening
in my hedge, with my field glasses up to my eyes. Froze! Yes Froze! Two Germans
stopped below their hedge line and one stayed up looking directly at me. I just
knew that he was. I was still frozen. Then that one German raised his rifle and
aimed it directly at my head. It was just as though we were aiming at one another.
We were, too, but his weapon was much more devastating than mine. I was still
frozen. He ducked behind the hedge but I held my position, very luckily, for almost
at once he raised and again took aim at me. I still froze and he repeated his
action a couple more times and I was still frozen--in fact I was nearly paralyzed.
Then the three Germans got up and moved off south. PHEW--I sat down--my back was
wet. I was unfrozen but plenty nervous. If I had moved before the Germans went
away we probably would have been ferreted from our hiding place. About this
time two Germans walked a few yards in front of us, left the cow pen gate open,
and proceeded one hundred yards to our front and got into fox holes and immediately
began firing: just firing. No particular targets, but just to make noise and harass
the Americans in the area. The yard gate being open, the cows took a holiday
and one very nosey bovine began to eat our camouflage and was making it nervous
for us. But that was nothing! Suddenly she spotted us-jumped-mooed and then looked,
shifting her head and body to get the best possible view. We were so afraid that
anyone who might be watching would notice this gal's queer actions; but again
it seems that we were on the right side and being guided from above. However,
after she had left us for half an hour she returned and went through the same
routine once more.
Midnight! We stole through
the cow yard, to the road we had previously crossed, and went along the side in
a southwesterly direction, trying to get around a big German strong point to the
immediate north of us, Moving west five fields led us to a cross road where a
German road block was established. An 88 was in position on the southeast corner
and belched forth every few minutes. Quigg and I crossed the road on all fours
and headed south just off so that our foot steps would not echo in the stillness
of the night (except when the 88 belched). A sentry, walking his post was sighted
as he came towards us--but before he reached us he halted, about faced, and returned
from whence he came. We saw him do this several times, thus realizing that he
was pulling sentry duty for the 88 crew at the cross roads that we had been so
fortunate to pass by unnoticed by the crew just a few minutes before. We climbed
into a field so as to give the sentry his part of the road--and ours too. Just
as soon as we got into the field we thought all hell had broken loose--a barrage
of 88s--lasting ten minutes whizzed over our heads--how close I'll never know,
but we crouched there, hugging the ground and wondering if they knew that we were
there or was the barrage for some other reason. Later we decided that it was a
half hourly occurance, with a lesser barrage between regularly ones. We crawled
towards the hedge to our south and as we approached the thick part of the hedge,
as it branched off along the side of the road that we had just crossed, we heard
some one cough and clear his throat. Then, later we could hear the hob nails or,
the road from the German sentry. Minute after minute went by--the coughing continued,
the hob nails kept coming and the 88s kept going off. Occasionally a rifle shot
rang out. Quigg and I were still there in the corner of the field, behind
the hedge as daybreak came. It was time, I decided, to find out who, or what was
on the other side of the hedge. I told Quigg to crawl and watch the corner while
I crawled over (through) the hedge and, pistol in hand, cocked and ready to fire,
approached the spot where our adversary was--closer and closer and closer I wiggled
slowly and noiselessly --and there he was! A half asleep U.S. Paratrooper--one
private Russell Nosera who belonged to Headquarters Co, 1st Battalion of the 507th
Regiment. What a relief!!! I quietly called Quigg and he came quickly and we settled
down for the day--and half of the night too. We camouflaged our hide out and
we watched Germans all day long. We saw truck loads of troops and bus loads
of them pass our hiding place going to their new defensive positions I guessed.
We saw a group of officers, partly dressed, with their bags stuffed with clothing,
partly dragging on the road, hurriedly follow a large van up the slope and when
it reached the top they climbed aboard and drove off in a northeasterly direction,
towards the way we had come from last night. We saw Germans set up 88s and
mortars, after load after load of shells were piled near the weapons. We saw horse
drawn vehicles so heavily loaded that both officers and enlisted men had to put
their shoulders to the horse drawn wagons to be sure that they got to their destination.
They used two horse teams, four horse teams, and at least once they used a team
with six horses and four men pulling and pushing to get the wagon and its load
in the field beside the weapons. And while we watched all the goings on during
the day we dared not breathe out loud, let alone cough, and we moved in slow,
slow, slow motion so as not to attract an eye that might happen to be looking
in our direction. The day was long--not because of lack of German movement
and activity, but because we were waiting for time to pass and for darkness to
set in so that we could move on and continue to try to meet up with our units.
While we were waiting, we ate all of our food, which wasn't much, and drank most
of our water. Regrets later.
Midnight
again--just what we were waiting for --and it finally arrived. The moon was
not up very high, was quite bright, but the skies were a bit cloudy. The latter
fact interested us because we couldn't be seen nearly as well if the moon was
real bright. Again, Quigg led off as we left our hide away of the past 20
hours. I followed and Nosera brought up the rear. We started out traveling,
northwest but as on previous moves we had to bear towards other directions to
avoid enemy gun positions, so our first deviation was to the northeast. We headed
for what we thought was our own mortars firing, but each time that we got fairly
close to where we thought that the firing was coming from, they seemed to have
moved. So we just continued moving on. We traveled quite fast - this night--we
were anxious to get as near to our own troops as we possibly could in as little
time as we could. At one time we came to a junction of roads and trails and
we took a break to get a rest and to think the situation out. In the quiet we
could hear Germans all around us--we heard their voices, and we could hear wagons
loaded and move out, hearing the Germans give commands to the horses that were
pulling the wagons. Some passed just a few feet from us as we hid in the grass
beside the road--real tall grass, out three or more feet high. Daylight was
fast becoming a reality and we all knew that we just had to find a good place
to hide, and to get some type of food and water. We had shared our food and water
for the last day and a half and had eaten and drank more than we should have.
Some of the rations we ate so as not to have the bulk in our pockets to carry
around, especially if we had to run away from prospective captors. So--into the
daylight we went looking--listening-and hurrying. At one place we came onto
a ready made trail and on it we found a jump rope carried by paratroopers. This
encouraged us and we kept on--finally coming into a road that led into a small
village. It was decided that we needed water--but not as the risk of being captured--.
We also needed food and directions as to where we were at the time. Before we
knew it we were in the village--it just popped up as we went up a slope and turned
a bend in the small, dusty road. All the time voices of a patrol were closing
on us and we were now in a maze of little streets and could hear the Germans very
well . At this point Quigg stepped into a manure shed. He looked out of the window
at me and pointed towards three German soldiers setting up a machine gun.
I saw them and when they moved behind a house, I stepped into the shed beside
Quigg. The Germans had not seen anyone of us yet because Quigg and I were
in the shed and Nosera was outside and behind the shed. Our, hearts were in our
throats because as Nosera moved into the shed with us, the Germans chose that
time to come from behind the house, and saw Nosera make his move. We knew it because
we could see the three Germans pointing to the shed door. They didn't know how
many of us were in there but they knew some one was there. Nosera said, "Let's
hide under the manure"! I said that we could not because they knew we were
in here and would shortly come after us. We'll have to make a break for it. It
was agreed that they would follow me. I yelled, "Follow me", and I dashed
out of the door; turned left; ran 10 feet down a narrow alley; came to a narrow
street running right and left; I turned, left and as I turned the corner I saw
four or five Germans setting up a machine gun. I ran close to the building, so
close that I hit the side of the building and turned myself around so that I was
whirling like a football player as he frees himself from an opponets grasp. I
looked right into the machine gun muzzle and I saw tracer bullets coming right
towards me. I felt the entrenching tool that I had on my belt, a shovel, shot
completely off the pistol belt --and I got completely turned around and just picked
up my feet and kept laying them down. If those buildings, the one that the machine
gun was beside, and the one that I ran along side of had not been of rounding
shape I know the bullets would have hit me--as it was, they were shooting a bit
to my right and I was bearing a bit to my left with every stride. I knew that
I wasn't safe yet. I ran in to a an orchard, headed down the right side for about
20 yards or so and then turned a 90 degree angle to the left and crossed a 40
yards field in nothing flat, dove into a ditch in front of a hedge row and started
to crawl in the ditch, going right, and away from the manure shed where I had
left, or should I say, when and where Quigg and Nosera didn't, "Follow Me".
After crawling about 10 yards I stopped and crawled backwards, covering my trail
as I moved slowly, camouflaged myself and my trail as much as I could. After
about five minutes of this I stopped moving, and really I guess that I nearly
stopped breathing too. I put my knit helmet that I mentioned before; on at this
time to hide my face so it wouldn't be seen because I was certain that it was
ghostly white because I felt, for certain, like an empty sheet! Once in a
spot where I thought I could rest and hide from anyone chasing me, I covered my
legs with leaves and dead briars, put my left hand in my steel helmet, to help
cover some of my face that was not covered by my knit helmet, and grasped my carbine,
that I had managed to hold onto during all the time and action I had been through
since I first put it into the violin case and strapped it to my body away back
in good old England, Nottingham, England and Folkingham Airfield, England--good
memories, those! I was lying right out straight, thanking God that I was small
and short and that I had made it safely to the ditch that was now protecting me
from being seen. Before finally settling where I was now located I checked my
pistol and my trench knife to be sure that they were readily available and ready
to use in a hurry if needed. I very nearly had climbed over the dirt hedge
beside which I now snuggled, in order to get as much distance between me and the
German soldiers that I knew would come looking for me, I would have had to cross
another field, a road, climb through a hedge row and settle in the field beyond
which I discovered later was thick with German fox holes, using machine guns and
mortars in addition to riflemen. I was happy when I found the fact out that I
had not been too greedy and tried to get more safety that I had. This fact was
one of the several happenings that made me, later, realize that I was not alone
in my travels and troubles--That God was really looking out for me.
As
I lay there I started to worry and wonder what had happened to Quigg and Nosera---but
not for long! It was just a short time until I heard voices, yelling excitedly,
high pitched, nervous voices--German and American. The German voices were
half in the German language and half in the American or English language. The
voices were saying, "Come oudt--Come oudt--Hans OOP--Hans OOP--We kill --We
kill". Then I heard one of my companions of the last few hours, one of my
paratroopers, yell, "No, No I don't want to die--I don't want to die! Then
Brrrrrrrrrr---Brrrrrrrrrr-the fast shooting of machine gun pistols that the Germans
carried had done their work--No more American voices --no more English words!
I knew what would happen next--I scarcely breathed--I knew--yes--the voices, like
a pack of hounds, cane into the field and orchard in which I was hidden. I prayed,
and I knew what every word I said meant, and I meant every word I said. I prayed--asked
forgiveness-asked blessings for my folks and dearest friends-human and canine
-- -Yes, I prayed and really felt like I had seen the last of life on this earth.
They came!!! The Germans first went down the field on the side that I started
down before I made my dash across the field and orchard. For two hours and more
they shot in every nook and corner, in every house on the border of the orchard.
They shot that high velocity machine pistol which sounds like a burp--Brrrrrrrrpt,
rather than like our, "Tommy" gun, with its slow, nearly single shot
sound, or our machine gun with its Ack-Ack-Ack-Ack. Then the inevitable---
they came to the side of the field on which I was hiding. My carbine was rusty
already, from the perspiration that had dropped onto the receiver from the end
of my nose and chin. I was so still that I think several times that my heart did
stop--but I thought surely that the THUD-THUD-THUD that came from it would cause
me to be discovered. They came!! One German Soldier walked through the briars
about five feet in front of me and jumped over the dirt hedge row. PHEW!!! He
yelled something to his companions-"Nobody here", I guessed and hoped!
Then he kept going on across the field. I could hear him running sway from my
position. Then those Germans with the shooting irons came along, and because
the grass was a couple of feet high, eight or ten feet in front of me and the
briars were so thick around me; they stayed that distance from me. But, they shot
and shot and shot right over my body--I could feel the breeze of the flying lead
and I could feel, and see the dirt as it fell on me as the lead burrowed into
the mud bank behind me. Later on I could see the holes where the lead was buried
in the hedge row. Twelve times I counted the German soldiers as they walked
up and back in front of my hide out--firing with every other step or so. I was
wondering about the thirteenth time--but it never came. Thirteen was always my
lucky number; I remembered that I had worn it on my hockey jersey while in high
school. Well, they went away--thank God--they went away and never did come back
looking for me again. Some one was still looking out for me!
This
was Thursday morning--D+2-- I had entered my hide out about 0800 hours and knew
that I had to stay there until darkness anyway-that would be 12 hours more or
less. All afternoon our artillery fell around me--and then our planes, the
P-47s and the P-51s did a beautiful job of bombing--but I was too close-right
in the middle of it all. Then the German artillery would go off. Also the German
88s and mortars were being shot continuously. I thought that they would never
cease. It was a very poor place to be--I knew it but I just couldn't get cut,
and right at the moment, I couldn't t do anything about it. I was waiting for
darkness to come and was praying that it would come soon. However, before
dark arrived more cows did. They started to eat the hay in front of me--and I
remembered about the other times when a cow came and gave me quite a bit of concern.
It wasn't long before some French men and women came and drove the cows home for
the night--but the French men and women nearly stepped on me when they tried to
get behind the cows to shoo them home. Dinner and supper time came--and went,
but I hadn't eaten--I had nothing. I was waiting patiently for darkness. I thought
I would crawl out of my position and cross the hedge row on my right, cross the
field, the road on the other side of the field, and be on my way across more fields
to the northeast, hoping to run into the allied troops advancing from the beachheads.
About this time the Germans started moving into the fields around me. They brought
mortars and 88s, machine guns and machine pistols and rifles. By dark the fields
were alive with Germans and fire power. I would have to plan another route of
escape. I planned that I would go forward 50 yards, Cut left--No!--there is a
machine gun! I would go forward 25 yards, turn left--No--there is another machine
gun! Turn right--no, another machine gun! I would start over--I'd go to the edge
of the orchard at my rear--No No! there was an 88 or a mortar; I'd go to my rear
and cut out of the orchard and across the field--NO-NO-NO-always a machine gun
or an 88 or some German weapon, or a group of soldiers. I began talking to myself-calming
myself down--taking stock of myself--getting various view points--but always I
would have to start over from where I was.
A
new day was dawning--it began to get light. I had not slept because I wanted to
get out of my place and out of my predicament. I could not sleep in the day light
for fear that some one would see me; I couldn't sleep during the hours of darkness
because I was afraid that I might snore and bring attention to my hiding place.
I just lay there- my binoculars, inside my shirt were cutting into my chest; my
carbine had numbed my right hand, especially my fourth and little fingers; I had
to move and change my position; I was hungry-I was thirsty---Daylight was here.
I had no food-no water--I'd have to wait until night--I tried to relax--I thought
of homeof my friends -of my dogs-my travels-my friends that I had met while assigned
to various camps and stations in the USA. I swore I'd drink anything anybody offered
me, be it buttermilk or vinegar. I shuddered--I hated buttermilk--but I would
drink it now if it was in front of me-or behind me! I was hard up but I still
had my head, my senses, and my heart. I still had my belief in God--but I was
alone--sooo all alone! And it was getting to look like I would be alone for a
long time to come. But who knows--I said to myself?
Not
for long--because about then -- this being Friday morning--D+3--the P-47s started
dropping eggs--and the artillery of our troops started popping at the German positions.
This continued with the Germans answering nearly round for round all morning--all
afternoon and in the evening the Germans moved more 88s and mortars into the area.
And--a German with a machine gun and one with a machine pistol moved right beside
me--on the other side of the hedge row! I could hear them talk-cough-spit-and
nearly hear them breathe. But most of all I could hear their weapons keep up the
mast consistant clatter that I have ever heard. All night long--only our artillery
silenced them and I had it doped out that I'd just as soon have them, the Germans,
fire because they were just making noises whereas our artillery was Ianding here
and there and all around me! If it hit some of the Germans, it was OK, but it
just didn't seem to. Every time that I thought one of the German guns had been
hit; it seemed as if two weapons started shooting where there had been just one.
I remembered seeing movies of such instances--but this wasn't an instance--it
was instant and constant! I had made up my mind on Friday morning to wait
for the Allies to come along. I knew that any time after D+3 that they should
make their appearance--so I waited with renewed hope. It rained Friday at
supper time-- just a few drops hit my cup when I had tried to catch some water
to moisten my lips-- but the drops were not large enough to do any good. The leaves
were wet a little so I lapped them but it didn't help much either. I decided to
wait and not get careless while I was looking for water that wasn't there. I felt
certain that help would come before long.
Finally--Dawn--It
was Saturday D+4, and I was still in a hot bed of fire--ours and now their shells
and mortar rounds were landing in the area also. They had been landing there all
day, but it was more severe now, and it seemed as they really meant it now. This
meant one thing to me-the Germans were pulling out and back because the Allies
were pushing forward and claiming the area. I prayed some more! I waited for
what I thought was an eternity and then I heard voices. I couldn't make out
if they were German or American voices. Then I heard someone say,"Now hear
that gun-- that's for yar". Then I heard a German Machine gun --Brrrrrmmmmmmpppttt,
and the voice said "Now that guns AGIN yar". Then I yelled, "Hey
American Soldier", I knew no German ever said , "That guns AGIN yar".
I knew it was an American. In a moment two privates came over to see me. I
asked what Division that they were with and they answered the 90th. They pushed
through the briars and bushes and picked me up, gave me a- drink of water and
after I brushed myself off, they let go of me--I started to move and my legs were
just like rubber--they just wouldn't stand stiff! The soldiers helped me and as
soon as I got my strength and could control my legs, which was just a few seconds,
I was off under my own control.
I reported
to Lt. Lovell, Co I, 357th Infantry, 90th Division.
Then I went to the manure shed to see what had happened there if I could. I found
one M-1 rifle which I took with me. That was all the evidence of Americans having
been in the vicinity. I decided to go forward with the 90th Division
as they advanced to where I thought my unit was, but was told that there were
some airborne units just a little way back in the direction from, which they came.
So I moved out in the direction mentioned and sure enough--I found the Airborne
troops of the 82nd Division and they informed me where the 3rd
Battalion of the 508th Parachute Regiment was located and gave me a
jeep ride to a position just a few hundred yards from where I had been hiding
for the last few days--and nights.
I reported
into my battalion headquarters-to my battalion commander, Lt. Col. Louis G. Mendez,
Jr. I was happy and thankful and I thanked God for His guidance and help.
Malcolm D. Brannen
This
testimony is published with the permission of Jean Brannen and the help of
Tom Colones.