Some questions to our Veterans.

RHS;

How true. When we came home from WW2, no one talked about it because we all knew what it was all about. In later years as we aged and died off, they started calling us the greatest Generation.. It was then that our Grandkids started asking questions.

I dont mind telling my story, it is a story for all who served in WW2. We were no Hero's, We were just Ameicans called on to do our duty. I take pride in my generation.

 

A WW2 slit trench

We would drop our pants and straddle the ditch to do our business.

The sore spot was that we had to dig them for our officers.. Grrr!

 

Thank you, Franek, for all you are sharing. We are so fortunate that some of the Veterans like you are online and willing to share your experiences.

My knowledge of my Dad's war years might have been more if he'd lived long enoug to reached the point of telling his grandchildren - especially if he'd known how much they respected him for it.

I look forward to spending more time reading at your website and reading of your experiences.

My deepest regards,

 

GoodMorning. Another day & another chapter

settled in.
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Bucholtz Station is a railroad station just inside the Belgian border with Germany. It consisted of a large building with out buildings. Out side was a field planted with turnips and potatoes. My platoon occupied that building. During the day we strung telephone wire to all of our Regiments companies. We were kept busy but not overworked. The countryside was beautiful. The landscape was covered with fir trees, planted in rows. The branches hung heavy with snow. The roads were also covered, but our trucks and jeeps were four wheel drives, so we had no problems. We were served hot meals every day from a field kitchen. At night we dug up potatoes and made french fries with lard stolen from our kitchen. We breaded the turnips and fried them. This war was a piece of cake. Life was good.
We had our I&R platoon in Lanzerath in a forward position. Their job was to capture Germans while on patrol and gaining intelligence, and reconnoiter enemy positions. Their position was on high ground overlooking Germany. On the German side they had fortified bunkers and a couple of pill boxes. At times looking across the valley some Germans were seen hanging out clothes and other chores.
We supplied communications from their site back to headquarters. One day my buddy and I were laying new wire from a jeep to their position. When we got to their position, we looked out into Germany and saw our first Germans doing chores in the distance. We thought that it would be a good idea to do some sniping. We each fired a round. The Lt. Lyle Bouck and a couple of his men came out and really chewed us out. They said that we gave away their position which was not known to the Germans. They expected artillery fire, but it never came`. They told us to take our jeep and get the hell out of there. With our feelings hurt, we departed. This platoon was later to make history on December the 16th.
At this time my regiment was in reserve. On another nice day with not much to do, my buddy and I decided to take a walk along the railroad tracks. As we casually walked along, we saw two figures walking toward us. As we got closer we all realized that we were enemies. The Germans turned around and ran back to the German lines. My buddy and I did the same. There were to be no heroics this day.

 

Franek,

I must agree with Michelle on this one, as well as my other fellow rogues... The interaction with you has been priceless! I know that all of us are enjoying our time with you, and appreciate all the amazing feedback. Please take care, and keep the info and stories coming!

Mark

 

One day my buddy and I came across a rifle grenade. We never fired one and we were curious. We went into an unoccupied part of the woods, and loaded the grenade in a rifle, aimed it at a tree and pulled the trigger. BAM! The grenade hit the tree; it came crashing down with a tremendous roar. We both ran like hell back to our Company. Upon arrival we saw no one. Someone called out to us to get into cover, the Germans were coming. We never told anybody what we did.
One day a couple of guy's shot a cow. They said that they thought it was a deer. LOL We all enjoyed a BBQ that day. Even the Company Commander said that it was the best deer meat that he ever ate. Life was great. We wrote V mail home, read the Stars and Stripes, Went on a one day pass for a shower to Liege Belgium. Watched a Belgian farmer build a fire and slaughter a pig and put him into a fire to burn off the hair. We stole fresh eggs, traded chocolate for fresh French bread and wine. Life was good.

End of the good life and the begining of hell

 

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[SIZE=+0]At about 5AM on December the 16th, we were awakened by horrendous explosions. We realized that we were under an artillery barrage. We could hear trees falling and explosions. I dove into a corner of our dugout and made myself as small as I could. We could hear shrapnel striking our bunker. We never ventured out, for to do so meant instant death. After about a half hour the shelling stopped. It was night time but the outside was light. There were snow clouds above and the Germans aimed powerful search lights into the sky to reflect light.[/SIZE]
Every thing was chaotic, trees were downed there were fires and smoke and the smell of gunpowder. There were casualties, but the log bunkers offered a lot of protection. The front lines got the worst of it. All wire communication was lost. The front line screamed for more communication by radio. The Germans were attacking. (I later found out that my division got hit by 6 German divisions).
We were ordered in teams of two to repair the damage. It was all but impossible. Our lines were all down or cut by shrapnel. But we proceeded anyway. Starting from Battalion, we worked on repairing the breaks heading to the line companies. We heard a lit of fire coming from the front. As we worked our way forward, we came under another artillery barrage. We hid in a ditch and heard shrapnel fly by. Some explosions lifted us off of the ground. I heard my SGT. scream. He got hit. About that time the shelling stopped. I reached my SGT. he was hysterical. His leg at the knee was just hanging. I saw an ambulance approaching, and waved them down. We placed SGT in it and they moved on. I was alone. I continued repairing what I could. I reached a cross road at the Loshiem Gap, Climbed a tree to get the line off of the road. I heard a lot of noise and saw Americans running. They entered a house, and then I saw a German tank loaded with infantry approach the house. They aimed the 88 mm at the house and blew it all to hell. They never saw me in the tree. But finding that I was all alone, I jumped down and headed for the woods. The Germans saw me and opened fire. I ran as fast as I could. The firing stopped. So did I. I needed to catch my breath. It was then that I looked down and saw blood on my pants leg and snow. I got hit and never knew it. I made my way to our Battalion aide station where they put on sulphur powder and bandaged my leg. Then the put me into an ambulance and evacuated me.

 

German King Tiger tank and American POW's from the 106 Division at St Vith.

 

The Ardeness Forest on December the 16th. 1944

 

A German Soldier at the Bulge.

 

Murdered American POW's by Panzergrupper Pieffer on Dec. 17th, At Malmedy Belgium

 

Do you guys have an appointment?

 

Dear Franek:

I thank you the 99th Division and all of the Eiselborn crowd foe keepin the Germans busy while we tried to hold on. I realize that as a new division that no one should expect you to preform as well as veteran outfits. You all, there is a term that says TEXAN, did very well. I am sorry you had to spend those awful months in Germany Coustody. Please accept my thanks.

As Ever,
Walter L. Marlowe

( Airborne all the Way)

 

Walt;

Be advised that this thread is not about me. it is about all of us that went through this battle. I can only speak of what I experienced. From what I gather, you might have been at Bastogne? No two battles were the same. I would welcome you to share your experience in here with me.. The younger generations are beginning to ask questions. If guy's like you and I dont tell them.. Then how will they ever know? This goes for any other WW2 vet.
I still have more to tell, but it would be great if you would join in.. I have questions that I would like to ask you. As I can only speak for my sector.

 

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[SIZE=+0] On my way to the rear in the ambulance, I got to thinking how close I came to dying that I started shaking uncontrollably. It lasted about ten minutes then stopped. It never happened again. I think that I went through a little of combat fatigue. As I was under fire, it never bothered me. I was in complete control. I never saw my Sgt. again.
I was sent to a rear field hospital for treatment. By now casualties were coming in from all sectors. They laid an Oriental kid next to me with his complete groin blown away. He just stared into space. I spent the night and was transferred to Paris in the morning of December the 17th. Two hours after I left. The whole hospital was taken captive by Colonel Joachomin Piepers SS Panzer division. He also massacred a company of American engineers at the Malmsey cross roads. I read about this the next day in Paris. Reaching Paris they did surgery on my leg. Wounded were coming in at an alarming rate. I was transferred to a small French town army hospital to recuperate. Since my wound was not too serious, I was grated a pass to go into town. I saw strange sights. A urinal, on a corner of a street, where guys went to take a leak in view of everyone. There was a truck with a wood stove burning for fuel. I got paid and decided to go to a whore house with a couple of other guys. At the age of 19, I was still a virgin. While waiting in line, I got to thinking about all of the VD movies that the Army showed us. The last thing that I wanted to get was a leaking pecker and open sores. I chickened out and left. I decided if I was to die, I would die as a virgin. Later the guys told me that they wished that they had left too. The girls were dirty and ugly.
Word came down from SHAEF that the front line was deteriorating, and all walking wounded and any other soldier were to be sent back to the Front. For the first time Black truck drivers were sent to fight. We boarded a train called forty or eight. (Forty men or eight horses)
We stopped at a marshaling yard and saw another train stopped next to ours with a stainless steel tank car. A couple of guys jumped out to investigate. They found that it was filled with wine. Our steel helmets were filled and we all got drunk. But it was ok, because it was cold outside and it helped to warm us.
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"FORTY AND EIGHT" RAILROAD CAR
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By the end of the 19th century, railroads made it possible to transport people and goods quickly over long distances, and this transportation revolution soon affected military operations. Armies became reliant upon railroads for supplies, and during World War I, men and supplies flowed to the trenches in railroad cars. A familiar sight to American "Doughboys" was the French "forty and eight" railroad cars. which carried them to the front. These cars received their names because they could carry 40 men or eight horses, as was clearly painted on each boxcar.

During World War II, the little-changed "forty and eight" boxcars still transported supplies and troops to the front, but they also returned to Germany with new cargoes. Many Allied prisoners of war rode to German POW camps in these boxcars -- sometimes with as many as 90 men forced into each boxcar. Millions of Holocaust victims were herded into similar boxcars on their way to concentration camps. Boxcars such as the one on display carried 168 Allied POWs from Paris to the Buchenwald concentration camp in August 1944. Many POWs endured harsh conditions during their trips to POW camps, which sometimes included attacks from Allied aircraft.

 

I need a couple of guy's that dont owe me any money to go out on a patrol

 

99th Division in the Ardeness December 1944 WW2

 

The Northern Shoulder ( Elsenborne Ridge. )

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[SIZE=+0] [/SIZE]
Reporting to the REPO DEPOT (replacement center) I found it to be in complete chaos. They were overwhelmed with troops. They had trouble finding where my division was, but assumed that it was at Elsenborn. That is where they sent me. Upon my arrival, I was ordered to go up to a ridge and dig in. The few men that I saw, I never recognized. They were all from different divisions, stragglers, cooks, bakers etc. At first there were but a few of us. But after awhile the ranks were starting to fill up. Next to my foxhole, two Polish soldiers from the British army set up a machine gun. Every hour I saw the gaps filling up. Then a couple of tanks and artillery pieces came in.By now there was no one that would penetrate our lines.
One morning a German appeared out of a wooded area at the bottom of the hill. He was dressed in white to blend in with the snow.He held a megaphone and yelled to us on the ridge,"GI's, today you die". Boy was he in for a surprise. As they advanced up the hill, we were ordered to hold our fire. As they got closer, I started to get nervous. But at last word came down to fire. All hell broke loose. They dropped like flies. The survivors fled back to the woods. We were very happy with ourselves. I don’t think that we took many casualties. I never left my hole to see.