Sword Beach to Bremen., A Veterans tale. Sapper

I have not heard nor even thought about cases such as that. It is a thought, wondering what ever happen to those Americans who fought for Germany once they became POWs. Thank you Sapper for spurring some thought process.

 

Hi Sapper,

Thankyou for sharing you story with us, it is great to read!

My Grandad was a Engineer in the New Zealand army in North Africa and Italy. He doesn't remember much now but he does remember a soldier who went though two Italian Winters with out wearing a pair of socks!

He didn't really like the Americans when they had to fight with them at Cassino, I don't know why.

Again, great story!
Thanks!

 

My Goodness! What a very pleasant lot you all are!
It is always a pleasure to talk and discuss our interest with you.
One thing I forgot to mention!The reason My pal Spud's Sten gun was not loaded, was simply because they were so dangerous. If I remember they cost in old Money about 7/6 to make a trifling sum. I put mine down on the ground and it fired on its own, and parted my best pal, Harry Greys hair. They would not fire when you wanted them to, and did when you did not want them to.
I do often ponder on the mystery of what happens to these characters you meet on the battle field. I tend to forget that it was 58 years ago now. I also tend to forget that as far as I know, I am the last remaining member of my Company. For those that did not perish in Europe have since passed on, not surprising when one remembers that I was one of the youngest, and I am fast approaching 78.
sapper
Next on the list The horror of the falaise pocket. for here was stark carnage, and the depth of human misery, I shall never forget for those images are imprinted deeply on my mind

 

Sapper, that brings up a good question. Have you had the chance to compare weapons (ie. German, American) and your impressions of them? You mentioned the Sten gun, have you tried the American M3 I think was the designation but was called the grease gun? Or how about a German MP44? Thanks.

 

"Typhoon day" closing..?

"Flying from dusty airstrips throughout a continuous onslaught, rocket-firing Typhoons kept up their attacks on the trapped armored divisions from dawn to dusk. The effect was devastating - at the end of the ten-day battle, the 100,000 strong German force was decimated."

 

Yes, my grandfather mentioned the dreaded Jabos (sp?) plenty of times. He thinks it may have been one of them that knocked out his StuG causing him to lose three fingers in the process. He stated that the only other item of fear was the PIAT (??). He dreaded the order to enter any town with those running around.

 

Hi Everyone. Thanks for your further info.
To Dallas Tx. You asked about the weapons. Well, here I must be honest, the Germans went for quality, and we went for quantity, or that is how it appeared to us.
The standard British infantry rifle was good, The Standard Machine gun, the Bren, was Ok, for me, it fired a pattern of five, one of them nearly always dead centre, But it was slow in comparison to the Spandau. The Sten was rubbish, that is all I can say about it.

By the way, my spelling of German names leaves a lot to be desired! I cannot distinguish between the makes of Spandau. For us, they were just the German machine gun, very good indeed, and with a tremendous rate of fire. I have seen a comrade cut in half at the waist, when he caught a burst.

There was one other German light machine gun that was envied by the British and that was the, (Here I go again) “Schmiezer” or something like that. It was light and beautifully balanced and when fired, hardly any recoil. A wonderful weapon.
Much in demand, but with one terrible drawback, its sound was distinctive, if you were using one, then there was the possibility that someone nearby hearing the sound would open fire in your direction. Some poor souls, it is reputed, were killed using this gun, Then the use of it was banned, for obvious reasons.

The one outstanding German weapon was undoubtedly the 88 artillery piece, for this was a gun of legend, (Still is) its fire sound was distinctive and very effective. Old Veterans still talk about the 88 as being the greatest gun of the second World war.

The Heaven preserve us! we come to the PIAT Projectile/Infantry/anti/tank. A bloody great heavy thing that had to be loaded by pulling back on a very strong spring, I always had difficulty in loading the thing. The projectile sat in an open, half round tray ready for firing, but you had to get close for accuracy. When it hit the tank it burned a hole right through the armour about ¾” diameter and then the power of the blast followed through and spread the occupants all over the inside of the tank, rather like jam.
Nasty! Very nasty! I have seen a PIAT shot penetrate solid hard rock to a depth of six feet.

When using the PIAT you made sure there was not a tree behind you, and that your legs were closed! for the recoil could slam you back and it there was anything behind? Then your future love life would be severely restricted! There was one other very dangerous thing about the PIAT, When fired, you should roll over quickly, for sometimes the tail fin would come hurtling back in your direction. Nasty! Very nasty!

I remember very clearly in Holland, two of us had been put into a prepared defensive are armed with a PIAT , for there was nothing in front of us and we could hear German tanks moving. Believe it or not, I could not pull the blasted spring back to load it. One other oddity. The German stick grenade had concrete heads, they had done away with the old metal ones.

Kai Petri talked about the Falaise pocket, I am coming to that next, for we were at the back of the trap pushing those inside towards the ever closing noose at the bag neck. I never want to see anything like that again. Not even for a sworn Enemy.
Sapper Brian.

 

Thanks, Sapper - I was very interested indeed to read your thoughts on the various weapons.

And I have always been fascinated by Falaise , so I'm waiting for the next bit with more than usual attention !

 

Falaise. Blood soaked Falaise.
Carnage! Bloody carnage.

This is not a pleasant episode, but the scenes that were enacted here are engraved on my very soul.

For here is war at it's most evil, this is where all the press reports and tales of courage in war are stripped naked of any kind of veneer of patriotism, or humanity. This is where war can be seen for what it really is; a dirty and inhuman slaughter of a Nations generation of young men.

After the war, all the Nations would depend on these young men to carry the Countries forward with the drive and inventiveness of youth, Sadly, they would not be there, for those young men paid the ultimate price and would not be there in the future. Thus, many Countries paid a very expensive price for the loss of their Nations young and ambitious men after the war.

For what follows was the real horror of war, and at its bloodiest. Destruction. Utter and complete destruction, it is very hard to describe the scene in words. The roads blocked with dead horses still harnessed to the smashed carts they were pulling; swollen with feet stuck stiffly up in the air. German soldiers dead, sometimes one on top of the other. Further on, groups of German dead lying in twisted and grotesque positions. Some fleeing German soldiers cut down as they fled. Tanks that finished tilted in crazy angles against the side of buildings, mobile guns and armoured troop carriers destroyed. Artillery twisted and abandoned. The whole paraphernalia and detritus of war turned into a massive mangled mess, and covered with Normandy dust. Some soldiers burned as their vehicles caught fire.

Religious statues destroyed. One very poignant sight, was in the corner of one village, were the French Peasants prayed with their rosaries before a life size statue of Christ. The statue still stood there amongst all that destruction, surrounded by dead and mangled bodies, like an island that had remained impervious to the fire that had raged all about. But, what was most poignant, was that the statue was untouched, still looking down at what had happened around. With his arms spread wide in supplication. But, with both hands blow off. I am not a religious man, but somehow that picture that remains with me, is a telling icon of the futility of war.

This went on for miles as we chased the fleeing Enemy towards the hell that awaited them at the neck of the Falaise gap. The Germans used any method to try and escape, in some areas it was not possible to cross the road for German dead. The mighty Tiger tanks blown to smithereens and scattered in every direction. Wall to wall death, smashed houses and buildings with the roads between with so many dead it was difficult to walk, men half out of tanks and cars, burned alive before they could get out.

One scene I shall never forget, was the blackened figure of a man burnt to death and fixed in the position of trying to get out his vehicle, he had his hand on the car door handle and one foot out of the door, fixed in that position as the flames overtook him. The stench of death hung over everything like a sickening pall. The sun had already begun to cause early decay. An inferno beyond comprehension! Covering everything was a thick layer of grey dust, almost as though the scene had been sprayed with grey emulsion.

I remember very clearly, a young dead German sat on the road with his back to a grassy bank, just as though he was taking a rest and a short sleep, feet spread, hands in lap, head on chest covered in this thick grey dust, he looked as though he, and his uniform were fashioned from grey clay. But, his sleep would last for all eternity.

All this, as a complete German army had been caught in the terrible trap of the Falaise pocket. As the noose closed round the top of the bag, the way out narrowed. The German army desperate to escape streamed through the neck of the bag, only to be fired on by our guns over "open sights" Sometimes at point blank range. Meanwhile the rocket firing Typhoons had a turkey shoot, the Enemy was subjected to continuous air attack with no help or protection, and caught in the open, the carnage was complete. For me personally, there was no satisfaction, "There but for the grace of God, go I" Carnage on this scale was something we had not expected. I do not wish to see anything like that again. Why? Well I have to live with it for the rest of my life.

The fact that the German army was able to retreat, reorganize and reform in Holland pays great tribute to their discipline and organization. Even so the Germans did not give in easily, some of the fire fights that took place at the rear of the bag were bitter and hard fought. Much fierce fighting took place as we pressed forward down the Tinchbray road. All of a sudden it was over, and the great chase began. Glad to leave Falaise and Bloody Normandy behind. The company packed everything into their vehicles and started North, A headlong chase all the way to Belgium, only short stops, one had to use a German helmet for a toilet.

Waving crowds, cigarette for Papa? Exciting in its way but being out of action has its drawback, its that much more difficult to get back into it again. After Falaise, the chase was almost none stop, all of our vehicles plus the German staff car we had captured, set off heading towards Northern France and Belgium. Cheering crowds and pleasant green country side made a wonderful change from the death and destruction of Normandy, just to see normal people walking about and the undamaged villages was heartening indeed. Girls in summer dresses after the desolation of Normandy. What a pleasant change! All the way the French made us very welcome, genuinely pleased to see us, it was a shame that we could only stop for short periods, the pressure to follow up the German retreat kept us going all through France to the Seine .

On the way, we were ambushed by a rear guard, we had been caught between a high stone wall on one side and stone buildings on the other. From the woods in front of us the Enemy opened fire as we came through this narrow road, my very good friend Jock, and myself were travelling in our half track. This great friend of mine, was killed along side me and tumbled out of the door, rather than run over his body two of us jumped out and sat his body against the wall, before taking violent evasive action. We just could not mangle him under the tracks of our vehicle, even under fire.

Falaise! Bloody Falaise!
I would be genuinely interested in how you fellows view this, and what is your reaction to it?
Sapper Brian.

 

I did say I was fascinated by Falaise so feel duty-bound to reply...

It interests me on the one hand because it was such a dramatic and sudden end to the Normandy campaign - the long-drawn-out 'slog' that you have so vividly described.

And it's a classic example of destroying ( or attempting to destroy ) enemy forces while they are retreating, and before they can regroup.

Before you jump on me, yes, that's an 'armchair general's' view. There is also the horror, unimaginable to anyone who was not there, of such slaughter ( comparable probably to some WWI battlefields ).

And part of my own 'fascination' comes from several visits to the Gap today, so quiet and peaceful, and standing... trying to imagine just a little of those dreadful events.

 

Sapper, that was a new one for me--Germans using stick grenades with Concrete heads--I know of the smooth skin and that they could silp a frag sleeve over the smooth skin grenades, and also have them tied in bundles.

Also thank you for the story on the Falaise Pocket.

 

Hi.
Thanks for that,The Falaise pocket was a bit traumatic, but it showed that "Monties" tactics were right, for it culminated in a encirclement that paid huge dividends. Some of my friends have taken photo's of the old battle fields and they have all returned to their previous way of life, albeit updated. Carl! We never came across any stick grenades that did not have concrete heads.I suppose they would be just as effective as steel.
Sapper.

 

WOW, Ive never even seen a picture with a German soldier with grenade that didnt have the metal heads. It certainly does sound that the ones made of concrete were probably more dangerous to say the least. Untill you mentioned them, I had never heard of cencrete heads on stick grenades. I guess it would make sense from the German point of view--to save the metel for weapons and vehicles--than for the grenades.

 

Hi Everyone.

The next instalment is the "Chase" The run to the Seine and the assaul crossing training.
Sapper

 

Thank you Sapper for your answers on the weapons question. That was interesting.

 

Falaise.......uk ! have got many cine films.....gross ! Had not the Allies complete air superiority of the air there would not have been a Falaise, but also too with the bottleneck of so many disorganized units and roads it is a wonder to me that any even got out. It was a horrible victory .......... period ..........

E

 

Hi Erich.
There was one great over-riding weapon we had, That was the Typhoon, later in the campaign, we had a "Cab Rank" of Typhoon's patrolling the sky ready to pounce whenever, and wherever, they were needed. I have seen a Tiger blown over on its side with a Typhoon attack, It was probably the greatest weapon of the campaign in North West Europe. Perhaps exceeding even the fabled 88s. God knows! they were a legend, and still are.

But I can tell you in all honesty, the Falaise gap was something that no civilised man would willing observe, or take part in. For me, there was the satisfaction that the Das Reich 2nd SS Panzer Division, for the most part, was destroyed in the maelstrom, Perhaps in their destruction the agonised screams of the dying women and children that were being burnt alive in the church at Orador sur glan, will somehow fade, for sound never completely fades away, it just gets fainter as it circulates around the universe. perhaps the death of the Das Reich will quieten those screams! But one thing will still remain. No birds will inhabit Orador, for even the wild life senses the horror that took place there, and indeed, still hangs to the ivy covered walls.
Sapper.

 

Brian:

It is all so true ! The coup de grace for the Tiffie units. Every hit from cannon or rocket hit something......it's as if the pilots could not miss. for a fact the Wehrmacht never thought it would be faced with something like this in Normandy. What a blood-slaughter and with the mess afterwards, I can only imagine and I would rather not what it would of been like to clean everything up men, horses and all the material.
As for Das Reich they did take a heavy hammering during the campaign, but it may be of interest since it was a Panther commanded by RK Fritz Langanke that opened the door way for escape of the Army and W-SS units by destroying over 4/6 Sherman tanks of a Polish armored division counting as a blocking threat to the retreating German forces. War..... ugh !

E

 

Hi Sword Beach to Bremen readers.

The battle for Normandy was now coming to a close. Our hard fought battles on the killing ground North Of Caen had paid off with even greater results that one could have wished for earlier. For inside that Falaise pocket, a German army had perished, many had escaped but there was terrible losses, and what was even better, a huge loss of vital equipment. For during that period of total destruction many German units had ceased to exist.

After that violent period, the company had to regroup, while this was going on we operated in the Flers sector. Of course the war did not just fade away, at times there was some fierce shelling that cost us many casualties.

There also arose the problem of reinforcements, for now we had a lot of new fresh young faces, they had to be trained up for assault work. To that end, we used the Flers reservoir to train the newcomers in folding boats, on assault river crossing. Meanwhile, I practised my explosive skills, not only by blowing down trees and seeing that that fell exactly where I wanted them, but also for fresh fish to augment our tinned rations. A pound of gun cotton. a primer, a detonator with a bit of safety fuse produced some wonderful fresh trout. Most of that vanished into the officers mess tent!

In passing, once a soldier had been trained by the army, then you never forget. I feel quite confident that I could blow up anything, or use explosives in any sphere, even to day, for they still use the same fuses as we did many years ago. The one I loved to use most, that was the instantaneous fuse. Coloured yellow, it was possible to lay out a fuse a mile long. Stick one end in your ear if you started to fire it up a mile away, it would blow your head off before you could remove it. Now that was instantaneous! Marvellous stuff!

Shortly after, on the 31st of August, we moved again to Les Andelys, just North of the river Seine. Here we spent a few days of contented rest and relaxation, for the armoured thrust had left us far behind. There was no alternative, we had to make up the company strength, and bring it back into good condition. After a few days doing nothing, we moved to a little place, Porte-Joie where we trained in more canvas Assault boat river crossing.

On the 9th of September, the company came under the control of 30 corps, and ordered to move to the Brussels area. After a tiring journey we arrived at the area of Louvain / Diest. Temporarily Losing some of our D.Rs as they had served here in 1940.
The next episode! They barred the British from Paris! That was for the Americans only! That angered the British! Who had suffered the heaviest csaualties? But we did enjoy Brussels.
Sapper Brian. Any comments?

 

Hi Everybody. What follows is the war in Holland and it is not pleasant.

The Bridge Too Far.

Belgium!
Brussels, Beautiful Brussels.
Over the border and straight on, in fact we never stopped until we had swept right through Brussels and arrived in a wood a few miles the other side of the city. Our officers decided that the men ought to get the chance to see Brussels. "Just one day men, we have to move on" Recently I managed to get hold of the Company history, and in there I discovered that officially, and I quote: “September the 13-16” "Company training in unit location, with one platoon at a time away for a day and a night on assault rafting in Brussels" What a wonderful excuse to cover our 24 hours in the big city! I cannot imagine for one second where we were supposed to go rafting?

All of a sudden, out came uniforms, dirty old denims that we wore nearly all the time were discarded, and this scruffy bunch with long hair. (Not the cleanest of Her Majesties Service Men,) having lived in holes in the ground for three months, tried their very best to smarten up, I even saw gaiters being scrubbed and boots polished!

We had always tried to keep as tidy as possible in action, though it is difficult, living in holes in the ground in all weathers. For the first time for three months we began to look like soldiers again, some even looked smart! One fly in the ointment that threatened our trip to the fleshpots of Brussels was that some men had to stay behind to guard the company vehicles, the half tracks, carriers, plus that we captured from the Enemy, all that goes to make an R. E. Field Company.

It was decided that men would gather in groups and toss coins to see who would stay as guards, about ten men were required for this duty. Yes! Who else but me would manage to lose the toss all the way through? One of the men keeping his mates in mind, drove back to our harbour area all the way from Brussels in a taxi, with a prostitute! Great big wench! Not pretty either! This great Big Lusty Lass offered her services free to those staying behind. Me, an innocent Nineteen year old country boy from Dorset, knew all about war, but nothing about the Ladies! Not a damn thing. This lady tried to convince me that all would be well. Yours truly was not too sure! I decided that rather than make a complete fool of myself, I would try my hand with the female sex in my own good time.

In those far off days 58 years ago things were very, very, different! The mind boggles when you see what happens today. Next day our men arrived back full of the tales about Brussels and of the good time they had, our officers then decided that the rest of us could have day in the city and make our own way back, or catch up with the company in the morning.

We set off full of excitement, the great big city of Brussels to explore, on my own, and not knowing anything about Brussels I decided to stop for a drink in a café and there fell in with a cut throat band of the Belgium secret army. I believe they called themselves the White army" they where a real load of ruffians and well on their way to being roaring drunk. It was there that I met an elderly gentleman who tried to communicate in what could only be described as fractured English, eventually, I found out that this old gentleman wanted me to go with him and meet someone, not wishing to hurt his feelings, I agreed, and went with him. he took me to a department store in the centre of the city where his wife worked behind the counter. It seemed they wanted to invite me to their home and share a meal with them. They were so keen I never had the heart to say no.

Looking back I would not have missed this old couples invitation for anything. They were absolutely wonderful. The Lady, quite elderly spoke some fractured English, just a little better than her husband, they made me very welcome in their home and shared what little food they had, to be truthful I think that I was given all they had, when I protested, they told me that they had been waiting for the moment of freedom when they could entertain an English soldier, and it had been a very long time coming, through all those years, they had been saving up for it. They told me how Grandmother had flown round Brussels on her 90th birthday and a lot about the family. (the things one remembers!) Later, they took me on a tour of Brussels, into the main square where all the architecture of the buildings is different, I was also taken to see the Manikin, that's the little boy having a wee, very realistic! They were very proud of their city, with good reason, it was a very attractive place.

In the evening they took me to a cabaret and treated me to a steak dinner, very expensive! Can you imagine how I felt? Eating the food? I could not refuse to eat it they would have been very upset, they would not hear of my protests and again told me they had been saving up for years, just for this moment, though I must admit it did stick in my throat a bit. That night I slept in a real bed with clean sheets! Just think for a moment how this felt after so long living out in the open and in fox holes. Glory be, without the sound of war. When I awoke first, I looked out of the upstairs window to remember my bearings just in case I would be able to return and thank these wonderful folk for their great kindness. To my left was a very imposing building that I would remember, even today, their house was in the "Forest" area of Brussel.

Treated to a very hearty breakfast, this wonderful old couple actually apologized in case I had been prevented from spending the night with a woman! The name of these gracious people? Something like: Charles and Lucia van Dusselaire. or something like that, Like most service men little things trigger off memories of past kindness' and I remember those very kind folk who tried to help a young soldier on his way with deep gratitude. I wish that I could have returned to thank those gentle folk properly Unfortunately I had been wounded so severely later, that it was difficult to get back into employment, therefore it was not possible.

Yes ! I remember. I remember. Nor am I likely ever to forget. Bless you Belgium Folk What Kindness! What Kindness! I yearn to find that family and to thank them and show them my family. What a joy that would be. Sadly, I will never know. For it far too late.

The next episode will describe the run for Arnhem up the Eastern side of Holland. For here we were to return to the harshness of war. But in terrible conditions.
So, here is your chance to join with me, in the misery of war in Holland.
Sapper.