- Home
- Kareem Abdul-Jabbar
Brothers In Arms Page 22
Brothers In Arms Read online
Page 22
One day he looked up to see an airplane passing overhead with impossible speed. It was a jet, the first that Smith or any of the other men had seen. Fortunately, this plane was on a reconnaissance mission. Fortunately too, in a larger sense, the Germans had held back their development of the Me-262 jet aircraft until too late in the war to impact Allied air superiority.
Charlie Company's moment of recuperation at Mheer did not last long: On March 8, the entire battalion received orders to travel by train to Saverne, France, and prepare to participate in a major attack toward the German heartland by the Third and Seventh U.S. Armies on the southern flank of the Allied forces.
WHILE MONTGOMERY'S 21ST British Army Group had been driving forward across the northern portion of the Rhineland from February through early March, Bradley's 12th U.S. Army Group to the south had been furiously disobeying its orders to sit still. Bradley and Patton waged what they viewed as a guerrilla campaign to be the first to reach the Rhine, with Patton telling his staff to let the high command “learn what we're doing when they see it on their maps.” The Third Army fought for a cold, bloody month to cross the rugged terrain of the Eifel region of Germany, and all the while Patton kept his battle plans and movements secret from his superiors: Told by SHAEF to bypass the key city of Trier, Patton responded simply that he had already “taken Trier with two divisions. Do you want me to give it back?” The First U.S. Army of Bradley's 12th Army Group had also been fighting steadily east, and on March 7, in one of the great feats of the war, it captured the bridge at Remagen intact and established the first Allied outpost on the eastern bank of the Rhine.
Bradley, for years the voice of caution, had become as determined as Patton that the Americans beat Montgomery's 21st Army Group into the heart of Germany. Bradley's animosity toward Montgomery had in fact become quite personal, after Montgomery, contrary to Bradley's wishes, had been given temporary control of the First U.S. Army during the Battle of the Bulge, and after a disastrous press conference in January in which Montgomery had belittled the American effort in the Ardennes (a potentially coalition-busting error corrected by Churchill's famous speech praising the courage of American soldiers before the House of Commons).
After the stunning if unauthorized successes his First and Third Armies had achieved in February and early March, Bradley argued determinedly to Eisenhower that the American forces to the south be allowed to capitalize on their gains and drive across the Saar-Palatinate region, where the German opposition was known to be weaker and thus riper for attack than that in Montgomery's zone. Montgomery's attack had indeed—despite high sacrifices by the Second British, First Canadian, and Ninth U.S. Armies—been slower than initially expected due to fierce enemy resistance and heavy flooding. Eisenhower granted Bradley permission to turn the Third Army from its previously ordered defensive stance to attack southeast in conjunction with a drive northeast by the Seventh U.S. Army of the 6th Army Group, with the goal of encircling the remaining German units defending the Siegfried Line and dashing east to the Rhine. The 761st had been ordered to Saverne, France, to spearhead one prong of this attack.
THE 761ST WAS INITIALLY TOLD to report to the Third Army; while still en route, with the men sleeping beside their tanks in freight cars heading south through the rural landscape, the battalion's orders were changed and they were instructed instead to attach to the 103rd “Cactus” Infantry Division of the Seventh U.S. Army, commanded by Maj. Gen. Anthony McAuliffe, who had issued the famous “Nuts!” reply to the German forces surrounding Bastogne. Leonard Smith had gathered through the GI rumor mill that the train was heading back to France, but none of the men realized how close they were coming to the region that had cost them dearly in November and that they had been only too happy to leave.
Their scheduled attack would take them, in fact, on a course roughly twenty-five miles east of and parelleling their northeastern drive during the Saar Campaign. Parts of the ground gained in that campaign had since been recaptured by the Germans: The thinly spread Seventh Army, which had taken over the 761st's forward positions in December, had managed to hold the line against a second major German offensive (“Operation Nordwind”) in January, but had been forced to cede small portions of terrain in Lorraine and in Alsace.
The 761st's planned drive would take it directly across this recaptured territory and straight into one of the most strongly defended sectors of the Siegfried Line. Leonard Smith and William McBurney—who had finally started to believe the end was in sight—would find themselves instead in the heat of some of the heaviest fighting the battalion had faced.
THE 761ST SET UP ITS command post eight miles northeast of Saverne, in the town of Bosselshausen, relieving the 48th Tank Battalion from the front on March 12. The 761st was to spearhead one section of a broad-front thrust by the Seventh Army scheduled to jump off on March 15, with ten full divisions attacking in concert to breach the Siegfried Line from Saarbrucken to Lauterbourg. While the men of the Seventh Army battered against German Army Group G at the Siegfried's tough defenses, to their north Patton's Third Army would catapult across the rear of the German troops to the Rhine. Patton's forces, with this rapid drive on a southeast trajectory, would “envelop their rear and pocket them so they can't get over the Rhine to fight us on the east bank.”
The 761st and the 103rd Infantry Division held positions toward the southern end of the Seventh Army's zone. The battalion's initial mission for the joint campaign was to support the 103rd in penetrating the Siegfried Line in the vicinity of Bobenthal, twenty miles northeast of their line of departure.
On March 15, Charlie Company's three platoons rolled forward in the predawn darkness to the outskirts of the village of Zutzendorf to prepare for their wing of the attack. Charlie, flush with replacements and repaired equipment, was for the first time since its first day of combat operating at close to full strength. Both Smith and McBurney found themselves riding with five-man crews. The experience of waiting in the steel hulls, by now familiar to most of the men, was a new event to eager replacements like Christopher Navarre—and in this the seasoned veterans shared a measure of trepidation. While “replacements” in infantry units are traditionally regarded by the vets as expendable, the smallest mistake by any crew member of a Sherman tank would put all five men at risk.
At 6:30 A.M., the tanks were shaken with the thunder of an American preparatory artillery barrage on Zutzendorf, including a round of white phosphorus shells to cover them from surrounding enemy artillery positions. The replacements were soaked with nervous sweat, listening to terse commands in their headsets. At 6:45, the tank commanders received word from their platoon leaders to begin advancing through the smoke and haze. Their line of attack would take them along narrow roads through a series of small, fortified villages directly into the Hardt Mountains. The Germans, true to form, were to take full advantage of these natural fortifications, waging a punishing and carefully planned defense characterized by concealed mines, demolitions, roadblocks, and tank traps covered with fire.
The Shermans blasted their way through Zutzendorf but were halted just north of town by a blown bridge, which combat engineers worked to repair for several hours in the face of sporadic opposition. The tanks and infantry then continued north toward Niefern—running straight into the still more formidable obstacle of a series of mines. First Lt. Thomas Bruce, advancing with his platoon in the center, personally led his tanks across a minefield to give direct supporting fire to the attacking infantry.
To his right, the platoon commanded by 2nd Lt. Frank Cochrane had landed in the most heavily mined zone and caught by far the worst of it: Of the squad's five tanks, three were lost to Tellermines. Fortunately, no crew members were killed in the explosions. Evacuating their damaged tanks, crews took care to stay inside the marks left by their tracks to avoid antipersonnel mines. Replacement Christopher Navarre suffered injuries to his hand and leg early in the attack, but the former ambulance worker was determined to continue and refused to be evacuated.r />
The remaining tanks and crews kept attacking northeast—pushing forward through Mulhausen, Rothbach, Zinswiller, and Woerth in continuous fighting over the next four days. Leonard Smith, acting as gunner in “Cool Stud,” fired intensely but with a sense of detachment on target after target. He peered through his periscope and horizontal sight, searching in every direction for gun posts and mortar teams. Enemy artillery was a near constant. The Germans in the battalion's zone of advance, as throughout the Rhineland, were exhausted, hungry, and much-diminished but nonetheless holding firm, building every sort of obstacle, fighting desperately, and retreating only when their posts became untenable.
First Lt. Thomas Bruce and 2nd Lt. Moses Dade both chose to lead their platoons on foot, reconnoitering enemy positions subject to small-arms and mortar fire. The tanks were pushing ever farther into the mountains, often forced to move in single file through the increasingly rugged terrain. The infantry was everywhere taking casualties. On their frequent trips back for resupplies of ammunition, Smith's tank commander, Daniel Cardell, as well as tank commander Isiah Parks and gunners William R. Burroughs and Christopher Navarre, exposed themselves beyond the line of duty to aid and evacuate wounded infantrymen in the face of heavy incoming fire.
Charlie Company successfully fought its way with the infantry across the border near Climbach, reaching the town of Bobenthal, Germany, by March 19—only to find itself given the still more difficult assignment of clearing Reisdorf, Niederschlettenbach, and Erlenbach, heavily defended towns along the Siegfried Line.
The Siegfried Line, like the Maginot, consisted of a complex series of fortifications including dragon's teeth, antitank ditches, and concrete pillboxes. In the 761st's zone, its narrow approaches were overlooked by numerous mortar, machine-gun, and artillery posts situated atop wooded hills and high cliffs.
WHILE CHARLIE COMPANY AND ELEMENTS of the 411th Regiment had continued struggling forward through the nineteenth, the main body of the 103rd's initial effort, “Task Force Cactus,” had been halted to their south near Froeschwiller because of bad road conditions and difficult terrain. The 761st minus Charlie was instructed to regroup and roll forward to an assembly point near Bobenthal, and on March 21 received orders to form “Task Force Rhine”—to spearhead for a new, concentrated push with the objective of the city of Klingenmunster. Nine miles to their northeast, located just beyond the Siegfried Line and the Hardt Mountains, Klingenmunster stood as a gateway to the open plains before the Rhine River.
Task Force Rhine would include the 2nd Battalion of the 409th Infantry Regiment, a recon platoon from the 614th Tank Destroyers, the 103rd Signal Company, and a detachment of combat engineers. The 761st's commander, Lt. Col. Paul Bates, was given the honor of leading this team. On the twenty-second, the task force rolled forward in the predawn hours to wait just south of Reisdorf.
Charlie had been engaged in a desperate battle throughout the twentieth and twenty-first to clear the approaches for this attack. Lieutenant Bruce's platoon blasted away at a series of pillboxes and camouflaged artillery posts outside of Reisdorf, while the infantry moved to locate key German positions in the steep surrounding hills. A team of American combat engineers moved forward to detonate all captured German emplacements.
Two miles to their north, Moses Dade's platoon, along with elements of the 411th Infantry, had begun attacking the town of Niederschlettenbach at 0700 hours on the twentieth. Like Reisdorf, Neiderschlettenbach was surrounded by enemy-held hills. Dade's tanks fought their way forward until midday, in the process assisting in destroying thirteen pillboxes and twelve machine-gun nests, and capturing intact a 75mm antitank gun. The Shermans helped clear a path for the infantry to begin entering the town but were halted in their own advance by a series of roadblocks and blown bridges.
As engineers worked to clear these obstacles, Dade's platoon—which had by now been fighting for six straight days—was relieved by 1st Lt. Harold Kingsley's platoon of Able Company. Kingsley's tanks and their accompanying infantry pressed on, only to be stopped after a short distance by a concentrated barrage of antitank, mortar, and sniper fire. Kingsley dismounted and personally scouted the thickly wooded hills for possible approaches to the German positions. Discovering a well-entrenched and hidden series of pillboxes and antitank posts, Kingsley remained in his precarious forward position. He called in target coordinates and directed fire from his Shermans to knock out ten pillboxes, helping clear the way for the infantry. Then he directed elements of his platoon to an exposed position, which caused the remaining Germans to redirect their fire. While they were so distracted, American forces were able to attack and completely destroy the German emplacement.
The Germans were heavily entrenched throughout the town: Able Company's S. Sgt. Johnnie Stevens noted countless Mark IVs and antitank guns. First Lt. Maxwell Huffman, who had taken over the company from David Williams, entered the town against Staff Sergeant Stevens's advice to help direct his tanks. Huffman, a white replacement from Newell, South Dakota, who had joined the unit early in December, had in Captain Williams's opinion initially been too gung ho for his own good; however, he had proven a quick study, and by the time he assumed command at the Battle of the Bulge, he had earned the respect of Williams and the enlisted men. On March 20, advancing through the town of Niederschlettenbach with his tank's top hatch open, Huffman was struck by sniper fire. He died of his wounds five days later.
MOSES DADE'S PLATOON REJOINED the fight at Niederschlettenbach on the twenty-first; the unit, having lost several of its tanks to mines and enemy fire, was rounded out later in the day by the remaining tanks and men of Cochrane's battered platoon, and continued attacking. Both Leonard Smith and William McBurney rode in this combined platoon, as did Christopher Navarre and “Iron Man” Warren Crecy. Navarre had heard the stories of Crecy's courage under fire from the other battalion members but was stunned to witness it himself. When Crecy's gunner, William Burroughs, knocked out a pillbox on a hill, Crecy immediately manned the .50-caliber machine gun to take out the enemy soldiers exiting the bunker—ducking down and shutting his hatch just as return 88mm artillery exploded yards away.
Cochrane's platoon fought its way to Niederschlettenbach using fire and movement tactics, with two tanks rushing forward while another two stood back to provide covering fire, followed by another pair of tanks. Engineers of the 411th Regiment bridged the Lauter River under heavy fire, and Cochrane's tanks continued fighting their way forward on the road between Niederschlettenbach and Erlenbach—a narrow corridor overlooked by cliffs containing numerous pillboxes connected by communications tunnels.
William McBurney's Sherman, commanded by Teddy Windsor, rolled directly into a concealed tank trap, becoming completely immobilized in the enemy ditch. Windsor, as he had at Tillet, reacted quickly—calling for covering fire from Leonard Smith's nearby tank and the tanks commanded by Isiah Parks and Warren Crecy. Crouched inside the turret, McBurney steeled himself to dismount on Windsor's signal. It was only a matter of time before the nearby artillery zeroed in, and they had no choice but to try to break out. Through his gunner's sight, McBurney had seen enough to know there wasn't much chance all five crewmen would make it.
Leonard Smith's tank was moving forward to give covering fire. Smith, too, could tell the situation for his friend's crew was dire. The enemy positions in the surrounding hills were well-hidden and widely dispersed. As the artillery barrage began—with his own tank now fully exposed—Smith furiously fired his 76mm cannon and .30-caliber machine gun on the enemy posts. He refused to let McBurney down. Crecy and Parks rolled forward to create a cross fire.
McBurney, Windsor, and crewmates John Safford, Mozee Thompson, and Robert Thrasher dismounted. Looking only at the ground immediately around them, they could hear the sickening familiar rush of incoming artillery and the deafening reply from their own tanks. They crawled on their bellies along the road, McBurney now the most determined among them. He had been through too much, he reasoned—too damned much
—to go out this way.
Encouraging each other, the five men had crawled for over a quarter of a mile back the way they'd come. Up ahead, McBurney caught sight of a pillbox they had previously cleared. They were, he thought, home free—until with a sudden earsplitting whrack the pillbox exploded into smoke. Stunned, it took him a moment to realize that the post had been detonated by a team of American combat engineers. They'd made it.
Windsor immediately took over another tank and got back in the action. McBurney, left for the moment without a Sherman, was glad for the brief respite after this second dismounting of a tank of Windsor's under fire. In the battalion's remaining actions, McBurney was to be given command of his own tank.
Cochrane's platoon fought on in a fury of fire throughout the night, clearing the Niederschlettenbach–Erlenbach road—destroying seven pillboxes and ten machine-gun nests—and reducing the town of Erlenbach itself. They were briefly relieved the following day by a platoon of Able; when this platoon's advance was halted by a blown bridge near Gundershoffen, all M-4 Shermans were ordered to join the main body of Task Force Rhine.
TASK FORCE RHINE, ASSEMBLED and waiting near Reisdorf, received its orders to jump off at 4 P.M. on the twenty-second. The column traveled single file along the narrow road, led by Baker Company, followed by elements of Able. Members of Lieutenant Bruce's platoon of Charlie Company, who had engaged in bitter fighting to reduce the town's approaches, waved encouragement and pulled to the side as their fellow Shermans passed. Lieutenant Colonel Bates chose to remain with the task force's lead platoon throughout the coming attack.