busykngt's post1

[SIZE=medium]After a German mortar shell knocked my father out of action on 14 November 1944 in eastern France and his evacuation by a 35th[/SIZE] Division medic to a French barn, where he was attended by a captured German doctor, my father eventually made his way back to England to recover. Time pasted, the war ended, he returned to Kentucky to finish his schooling at UK (on the GI Bill as my Dad fondly recalls), married a good looking gal from southern Kentucky and they moved to Washington D.C. so he could “work on his Masters” in Political Science. The memories and attendant horror of combat began to fade and be replaced by those experiences that make life worth living. New wife, baby on the way: life was looking up! And then there was the day at Union Station in Washington D.C……….

[SIZE=medium]In eastern France, the Americans lay in a slight depression along one side of the rather large, open field facing German gunners in a forested tree line along the other side of the field, perhaps three hundred yards away. Dad was an infantry sergeant in Patton’s Third Army, 35th[/SIZE] Division, 134[SIZE=small]th[/SIZE] Regiment, Company G and guessing at the date, this experience must have happened sometime around mid-September 1944. As the American infantry unit temporarily held up, it got to be later in the afternoon when a white flag was first spotted in the distant tree line. Dad was lying prone (as were all the guys, keeping an eye on the tree line) on the slope leading up to the field. He was with the company commander and the radioman. The company commander gave the order to not fire at the barer of the white flag. With the greatest caution the German soldier baring the white flag slowly exposed himself; once he came to understand the Americans were not going to fire on him, he made rapid progress across the open field, towards my Dad’s position. My Dad described this young man as having blonde hair and blue eyes and no more than seventeen years old. This boy spoke some broken English to the company commander and showed the captain some American dog tags. He got his message across that they (the Germans) had a badly wounded American soldier and they had no doctor or medic to attend him. He was asking for the Americans to send over a medic to help this soldier. The CO called their medic up to join him, my dad and the radioman. After much discussion, it was finally decided the Germans probably needed a medic themselves and they had just pulled the dog tags off a dead American. Of course this young blonde German boy swore up and down that was not the case. Dad said at that time, the CO tried his damnest to talk this boy into surrendering and not going back across the field. This boy would have none of it – he just knew the Fuhrer was about to save Germany with his “wonder weapons.” So the boy returned. The Americans stayed in place that night and by the morning, the Germans had retreated east out of the forest, not to be seen.

[SIZE=medium]The facts are such that there actually was a severely wounded American soldier and the young, blonde German soldier turned out to be a very compassionate individual who was given permission by his commander, to continue his untrained nursing of the American. The badly wounded American did survive, due in no small part to efforts expended by the young German. How do we know all this? [/SIZE]

[SIZE=medium]It’s known because of one of those incredibly, weird, miraculous flukes that seem to happen in life (and perhaps, most especially with combat situations). You see, quite some time later (in fact, about a year and a half later), that wounded American soldier found himself waiting on a bench in Union Station when he was approached by some civilian guy who happened to have noticed the 35th[/SIZE] Division patch on his shoulder. That civilian guy was my dad. He noticed the shoulder patch and went over to just make some small talk with this fellow and mentioned he was in the 35[SIZE=small]th[/SIZE] Division also. The fellow began to explain to my Dad, why he was still in uniform so many months after the war had ended. Turns out, he had spent a long time in the hospital recuperating after having been severely wounded. Well… you guessed it….one thing lead to another, and pretty soon those two combat veterans had that field in France narrowed down, roughly the date narrowed down and the clincher for both was their recollection of that young, blonde German boy. My Dad told him, he had seen his dog tags before and told him, his version of the story involving the young German soldier. The wounded American soldier (I never knew his name), related his version of the story to my father. He told my Dad, that boy did come back across the lines and the Germans evacuated the forest area later that night. The young German boy had asked his commander if he could continue to look after the American and the German CO had given his permission. He took care of the wounded American for the next three or four days until he was turned over to a German doctor and hospital. He was later handed over to an American hospital and then to one in Washington D.C. He told my Dad, that young German boy had saved his life.


[SIZE=medium]busykngt, May 2014[/SIZE]
[SIZE=medium]Finally took the time to write this story down; one of a few WWII stories Dad has related over the years.[/SIZE]

 

[SIZE=medium]From a posting I made in 2013:[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Quote:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=medium]During WW2 and Korea was most combat ammo issued preloaded in enblocs? Or was bulk ammo loaded into enblocs in the rear of the front and then brought forward? How about the bandoliers?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=medium]Can't answer for Korea; probably could have year & half ago when my uncle was still alive (a combat, infantry Silver Star recipient from that war).

I did just ask that question of my 92 yo father who was in Patton's Third Army as an infantry sergeant in the 35th Division, 134 Infantry Regiment. He fought across France from his landing at Avranches (as a replacement) to Nancy in eastern France - where he got knocked out of action by a German mortar round that killed the guy just in front of him. My father is one of the few in his battalion to have survived the Flavigny Bridge battle: [/SIZE]
[SIZE=medium]http://www.coulthart.com/134/flavigny.htm[/SIZE]
[SIZE=medium]No one (except my dad) was at this dedication ceremony of soldiers that had actually crossed the river/bridge that night - of the battalion's hand full of survivors from this battle he was the only one able to make the trip. (If you care to read more): [/SIZE]
[SIZE=medium]http://www.coulthart.com/134/bridge.htm[/SIZE]

[SIZE=medium]I asked my father two questions: 1) about the noise the en bloc clip made when it ejected and 2) about the ammo re-supply question (above).

I'll answer the second one first (since that's the real topic of this thread). He said the ammo was always brought up just after dark (along with other supplies like socks, rations, etc.). It was brought up by jeep if the jeep could make it without getting blown up or the driver killed. The ammo was already "pre-loaded" in the clips and standard issue was two bandoliers (and yes, they were worn crisscrossed over the shoulders). He had no idea how the individual thirty ought six rounds got into the clips...he supposed they "came that way from the factory." In other words, he had no knowledge of guys sitting around in the rear, loading en bloc clips (but, then again, he didn't have much of an opportunity to be "in the rear" so I suppose that's a possibility...but it seems less likely to me).

Now, as far as the first question is concerned, I know I'm likely to burst some bubbles here (or more likely, for this comment to simply not be accepted by some folks). After all, it does make for a GREAT little tale. But again, I'll just pass on my father's comments for what it's worth. He fought extensively in the hedgerow country of Normandy and Brittany - in fact, he was engaged in combat on 10 August 1944 when his younger brother was killed about six miles south of my father's position (as best I can tell from the historical records). His younger brother was with the 29th and wounded on D-day, sent back to England, recovered and then sent back into combat and was killed (from what my Grandparents were told after the war by a survivor friend of his, he was killed by a German sniper). Anyway, my father's comment about the "ping" of the en bloc clip: he said, "anyone who claims the sound would have been able to be heard in battle, has obviously not ever been in combat with it [the Garand]". Accept or not - your choice, but it's what my father said - as for me, I'll take his word as being the reality. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=medium]And in a follow-up posting on the same discussion topic: [/SIZE]

[SIZE=medium]Slowly, over the years, I’ve gotten him to tell me a little about his experiences in WWII. Suffice it to say, he has related some fantastic/freakish tales of “chance” and coincidence to me – he’s not a religious man and [/SIZE][SIZE=medium]attributes his survival to just sheer luck. He’s told me he escaped death a thousand times by mere inches or seconds in time. His M1 Garand, I feel, is probably still at the bottom of the Moselle River when his company commander, that night, had yelled, “every man for himself” when the Germans had brought up three tanks and started machine gunning GIs swimming back across the river trying to evade capture. Dad told me, when the Germans called for surrender, the guy lying on the river bank next to him, stood up raising his hands to surrender; my father ripped off his leggings and jumped in the river and somehow made it across with MG bullets hitting all around. He hid in tall weeds that night and the next morning, he and two other GIs (who had done the same) were picked up by an American patrol (they had heard about the battalion being decimated in the German trap at the bridge crossing). They were put in a jeep and taken back to regimental HQ to tell Col Miltonberger (later, a General Officer), what had happened.

As I mentioned already, Dad’s youngest brother was in the D-day invasion with the 29th Division, 115 Regiment (later KIA). But my grandmother saw all three of her sons in combat. The middle brother was in the Pacific with the 2 Marine Divison, 8th Regiment, 1st Battalion, C Company. My uncle Garnet was badly wounded at Tawawa, recovered and then sent back into combat again and wounded a second time at Saipan. He survived but I never heard my uncle Garnet talk about his experiences; my father told me, as he understood at one point, Garnet may have been the only survivor of his company. He said his brother saw more combat than anyone he ever heard of. All good Kentucky boys who just saw fit to do the duty their country called them for, seventy years ago. Till her dying day, my grandmother never forgave the Germans – my father, on the other hand, {strangely} has a respect for the German people.[/SIZE]

 

[SIZE=medium] This was written to honor my father, {busykngt’s dad}, on the occasion of his 80th[/SIZE] birthday, December 19, 2000 in Frankfort, Kentucky. But more importantly, it was written so that his children and their children and even his great-grandchildren (though, at the moment, they are too young) can understand the significant events of his early adulthood. What he witnessed and what he survived in his tour of combat across France must always be remembered by his progeny.

[SIZE=11pt]On a subway in [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Moscow[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt], I watched as an elderly man in a dark suit, very worn, no tie, entered our car. Immediately Natasha jumped up and offered her seat to the man. I knew what had happened even though I hadn’t spied the “clue” yet…ahh…there it was, a small red colored ribbon (medal) pined to his old suit coat lapel: he was a veteran of The Great Patriotic War. Such is the respect and gratitude of the young Russian generation.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Dad, please forgive me if my recollection is not 100% accurate but I want to piece together a few tidbits of information I’ve collected over the past 30+ years.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]First of all, I think it’s very important for your children and grandchildren to understand you, especially your early adulthood. For those of us who have (thankfully) never had to experience the absolute terror and petrifying horror of combat, I want to thank you for maintaining your humanity.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]As some of us have experienced the deep sorrow and sense of loss at the death of a brother or sister, so too, did Dad. Fifty-six years ago, perhaps only three or four miles distant from his own fighting position, a bullet fired from a German rifle found it’s mark: in the neck/chest area of his 19 year old brother, Marvin. Dad, thank you for maintaining your humanity. I know at 23, it was hard to loose your brother.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Thank you for not cutting off the fingers of dead German soldiers to collect their gold rings – like the boy from [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Ohio[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]. Thank you for maintaining your humanity. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]We also offer much thanks to “Sheep Dip” for shooting and killing that young Nazi soldier a few feet from you in the forest and keeping you alive. Again, thanks for maintaining your humanity.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]We can barely imagine the fear and confusion of being shot at. The normal “ordered” world ceases to exist when your company commander suddenly realizes your position is surrounded and being over run by an enemy that’s trying to kill you, and he yells, “every man for himself.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Dad, please know that all your children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren are truly thankful that those machine gun bullets striking all around you in the [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Moselle[/SIZE] [SIZE=11pt]River[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt], did not find their mark. Thank you for your humanity.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]And last, while you may not believe in “miracles”, some of us do. I choose to believe the day of your advance in eastern France, where it was bitterly cold with two or three inches of snow on the ground, it was yet another miracle that the mortar round which killed the American soldier five feet in front of you and knocked you unconscious…how was it possible that you laid in the snow for several hours until the medics found you, that you did not go into shock and die from this severe exposure? I choose to think this was a miracle and not just because you were destined to have a son (me) ten years later![/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]I hope your children and grandchildren know you a little better now.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Dad, with all you’ve experienced in your life: thanks for maintaining your humanity.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=medium]Just a short postscript to answer a couple of your questions; “Sheep Dip” was Mr. Charlie Linville of Johnson City, TN. On the occasion sited above, Dad’s M-1 rifle was fitted with a grenade launcher (which made the actual rifle incapable of firing bullets). Since they were walking through a forest, where obviously it wouldn’t be very wise to launch grenades, Dad was soon “highly motivated” to remove the grenade launcher after the German infantryman charged Dad and was just a second or two from shooting him. Thankfully, ‘Sheep Dip’ shot first.[/SIZE]

 

Slipdigit, yes, thanks for your help with the posting.
--
After receiving a couple of questions, I really don't know anymore about these situtations than what I've posted.

Obviously, I don't know what happened to that young German soldier. I've often wondered myself, whatever happened to him. Did he survive to live in peace time Germany and perhaps grow up to become a doctor? Or (on a 'darker side'), was he later killed before the war ended? The mind wonders...

Like some of you have commented, the Flavigny Bridge battle seems to be not well known to history. I think it was for that very reason, the local French population decided they wanted to do something to erect a memorial so the Americans that died there, wouldn't be totally forgotten. BTW, the local French did this at 100% their own cost - they raised the funds themselves to put up that memorial. During that dedication ceremony, my father was told by some of the old, local French men and women who witnessed the battle's aftermath, there were dead Americans, "everywhere." I know my father's battalion wasn't near full strength at the time but I believe there were less than 50 American soldiers out of that battalion who weren't either killed or captured by the Germans. The Americans fell into such a complete and total trap set by the Germans at the bridge, it's no wonder to me the news was kept hushed up (at the time).

So with that..... that's all I know! (Like the 'ole country boy said, "Mam, when I said howdy....I told ya all I know).

 

Hello. I am new to this site. My father just completed research on my grandfather's survival at Flavigny Bridge during WWII. Dad spoke with your dad in 2006. I would love to talk. 832-466-5060 (Wendy, grandchild of Calvin Mordecai, 134th Infantry Regiment)

 

December 19, 2015

To whom it may concern:

My family is on a journey to locate the soldier that saved my
grandfather during a WWII battle in France on September 10, 1944. The
battle took place at Flavigny Bridge, a bridge across the Moselle
River. We realize the soldier who saved him may longer be living,
however, we would like to recognize his heroic efforts nonetheless.

Calvin Coolidge Mordecai, of Fernbank, Alabama, was a US solider
during WWII. He served in the 134th Infantry Regiment in Patton’s 35th
Infantry Division. He landed in Normandy on July 5, 1944. Initially
held behind his unit because of dental problems, he was eventually
placed in Company E of the 134th Infantry Regiment as a replacement.
He was assigned the position of a B.A.R. man for his squad.

Private Calvin C. Mordecai was in a culvert under Flavigny Bridge on
Sunday, September 10, 1944. He remembers a “Sergeant and a Lieutenant”
who returned to the culvert after everyone else had been evacuated.
One of the men my grandfather remembers to be a Medic/Sergeant carried
another man, with a leg wound over his shoulder at the same time.

After much time and effort, my father, Keith Mordecai, tracked down
the man with the leg wound that was in the culvert with my
grandfather. That man is Albert Bloom. My father has corresponded with
Albert Bloom and both of them are positive that the last two men in
the culvert that were alive were Bloom and my grandfather.

Sgt. Carroll Crouch was recognized for saving Bloom many years later,
however, Crouch shared with my father that he was not the man who
saved Bloom and my grandfather because the stories didn't match up. Crouch said he took the walking wounded out of the
culvert and sent medics back to the culvert to get the wounded who
couldn’t walk. He did not carry Bloom over his shoulder and drag my grandfather out of the culvert.

This brings us to the conclusion that it was a medic who saved my
grandfather. My father interviewed my grandfather and Albert Bloom
several times. My grandfather mentioned "Sergeant" and "medic" several times when he referred to the man who got him and Bloom out of the culvert. Here is an account of the culvert rescue, combining my
grandfather and Albert Bloom’s memories of that night:

Pvt. Mordecai was halfway across Flavigny Bridge when he was wounded
in his face/eye. He escaped the shooting on the bridge in an effort to
find medical attention. He was told to go into the culvert where the
wounded were gathering and receiving medical attention from the medics
from the 110th Medical Battalion.

Although they did not know each other at the time, Mordecai and Bloom
both remembered being in the culvert with each other while the
soldiers of the 134th were retreating. Mordecai had a face wound and
Bloom remembers seeing a soldier laying against the wall with a head
or face wound. “I recall very vividly your father lying on the culvert
cobblestones with a rag over his head”. Mordecai remembered a man with
a bad leg wound. Bloom had a leg wound. Mordecai said he was
surrounded with dying men who were begging him to, “tell my mother and
father I love them” and crying “I’m dying”. Mordecai was covered in
his own blood and soaked in the blood of the dying men piled up all
around him. Bloom remembers Mordecai had a cloth over his face.
Mordecai had white powder over his face to stop the bleeding and
possibly a bandage.

At 0130 there was a huge explosion on the bridge while the two men
were still in the tunnel. The German voices got closer and
closer. At this point it was "every man for himself". According to the
134th journal, the “Bridge had been Knocked Out”.

Mordecai said as the night wore on, more and more wounded crowded into the
culvert. At about 2:30 am The Germans made a counter attack. Mordecai could
hear the Germans shouting and someone came into the tunnel and said
the Germans were about to overrun their position. They were told not
to resist the Germans or “give them a hard time” and that the Germans
would take care of them and give them medical attention. Later a
couple of men came to the tunnel and said, “If anyone is alive in here
we will try to get you out”. Mordecai recalled “they” slipped back
into the tunnel the two men were being “hush-hush”. As Mordecai
recalled, the two soldiers were a Sergeant, who was a big man, and
another officer (maybe a Lt?) who Mordecai thought were medics.

At this point Mordecai and Bloom were the only men alive left in the
tunnel. Mordecai answered the soldiers and said that everyone was dead
except for himself and the soldier with the leg wound. When the
Sergeant was about to evacuate with him, Bloom asked one of the
soldiers, “What about him?” referring to Mordecai. At this point
Mordecai pleaded, “Please don’t leave me. I just got married”. The man
Mordecai believed to be a Sergeant replied, “Catch my belt”. With
Bloom on his shoulder, the soldier/medic/Sergeant proceeded to drag
Mordecai by the collar. Bloom’s recollection of the event was that
“all three stumbled out of tunnel”. During the rescue, Mordecai almost
fainted three times. They went up a hill to a road that was, “so full
of fallen trees that a tank couldn’t even get through”. They made
their way to a jeep 300 yards away which “was way up on the mountain
side”. The jeep had to be left there “because of enemy fire”. Mordecai
remembers getting put “on the back of the jeep next to the man with
the leg wound”, who turned out to be Bloom. There were two men in the
front of the jeep. The evacuation of Mordecai and Bloom occurred after a
huge explosion on the bridge. Mordecai was then taken to a hospital
tent, which he remembered was “over a couple of hills and behind the
lines”. It was here where he was given three “quarts” (my father
thinks he meant pints) of blood. He was covered in dried blood and his
clothes were so stiff that they had to be cut off of him which exposed
him to the cold. Mordecai’s left eye turned white for a while and they
thought he might lose it but he recovered full site. Mordecai was in
hospitals in Paris, where saved his eye, and England. After that he
was sent back to the states where he remained in hospitals for another
six months.

I hope these memories from Mordecai and Bloom will trigger someone’s
memory of the events that night so we can locate the Sergeant/medic
who rescued them in the culvert under Flavigny Bridge on September
10th, 1944.



Thank You,​

The Family of Pvt Calvin Coolidge Mordecai​

​

(wendymiller1969@comast.net)​