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The night is ours, modern American soldiers will tell you
and, with all their night sight and location equipment, they
are right.
But night and day and combat have been going on for a long
time and those who could preferred the dark of the moon when
conditions were right.
In the St. Lo breakthrough, it must have been July 30th, 1944
and following the relief of MG LeRoy Watson, that CCA was attached
to the 1st Infantry Division and CCB to the 4th Division initially
and division headquarters became inoperative.
Col John A. "Long John" Smith, Jr., chief of staff,
called in Lt. Col. Wesley A. Sweat, G-3, and myself and sent
us to BG Doyle 0. Hickey's CCA headquarters to help out as "hired
hands."
We went in Sweat's jeep, driven by PFC John D. Pfeffer of
Mapleton, MN, with a 30 cal. machine gun on amount in front of
the passengers seat.
We reported to General Hickey's CP, near Brecey, and here
the two "hired hands" had to find work for themselves,
as his staff was self sufficient.
About evening it was learned that the combat command was about
to run off of the available map supply, particularly for artillery
use, and I volunteered to go back to the division CP, then, about
or near Hambye, and secure a supply of maps. This was requested
by radio.
Wes Sweat lent his jeep and Pfeffer driving, we started off,
about dark. There was a pretty straight road from where we started
to the division CP but it ran through Villedieu les Poeles, where
a few Germans were still reported This we wished to avoid so
when we came to a crossroad with a signpost, I shin-nied up it
and lit my Zippo lighter to read the sign.
We did avoid the town and arrived at the division CP to find
that the engineers were busily engaged in sorting out maps in
the back of a blacked out truck.
With a full supply of maps in the back of the jeep and the
latest G-2 information (that of V Corps was particularly good)
we started out to where we had left the CCA CP, arriving about
4 A.M., to find the only thing left was a lone halftrack, manned
by signal corps people. Hickey's CP was queried as to their location
but the only reply was an acknowledgment of message receipt.
Later we found that General Hickey's CP was in a hedgerow
field with a German tank in the next field! And they were keeping
quiet. We finally caught up with them as they were entering Juvigny
Ie Tertre, now attached to 30th Infantry Division.
Night moves recounted above were with General Hickey and doubtless
others with he and BG Truman Boudinot could tell tales of night
moves in the breakout.
BG Maurice Rose took command, on paper, August 7th, but it
was not until after the Mortain attack was contained that he
actually assumed command. Things changed then.
In the Falaise Gap moves might have been slow, but night combat
was not. Sgt. Lafayette Pool and his crew fought from dusk to
dawn, the Luftwaffe dropped flares and bombs. General Hickey's
CP was surrounded and the Germans fought at night, too. Some
SS at dawn of Aug. 15th, crept into the 703rd TD's position and
captured an officer and two men, all later found slain. By nightfall
the division had advanced to Ranes and during the night hours
the Germans streamed toward an exit, like rats in a sinking ship.
After a little rest below Chartres, we advanced to the Seine
River, above Paris.
It must have been Aug. 25th - French General LeClerc had arrived
at the Paris city hall the night before - when John Smith called
me in a hurry and dispatched me to be bridgemaster at the pontoon
bridge built by LTC Lawrence G. Foster's 23rd Engineers between
Melon and Corbeil. Taking a jeep, I left in a hurry, leaving
my bedroll behind. There I found a signals halftrack, fortunately.
All day vehicles moved across the bridge, until far in the
night. At dusk a German reconnaissance plane flew over and dropped
flares. Fortunately his big brother bombers did not follow.
In the wee hours of the morning one of the radio operators,
on duty, let me borrow his bedroll for a few hours sleep. Bless
the 143rd Armored Signal Company and those trained by it! The
next morning was one of those glorious summer days they have
in France. The sun was out and rippled the water. A few French
watched the operation, one a young woman with a scarf on her
head, which had been shaved for too close a cooperation with
the Germans.
About mid-morning there was a lull in the traffic and a jeep
began crossing from the other side. I was sitting on the bank,
the radio vehicle behind me, whittling on a stick. The passenger
in the approaching jeep had a shiny helmet and as it came closer
it was perceived as no less than George Patton, three stars on
his helmet, Eisenhower jacket, riding breeches, boots, ivory
handled revolver, gloves and all.
As he approached I rose and saluted him. Stopping he inquired,
"Everything under control, major?" to which I gave
an affirmative reply. "Give Maurice Rose my regards,"
he said, departing. It was the last time I ever saw him.
By sunset all of our troops had crossed except perhaps for
a few of division trains and I turned command of the bridge over
to a jolly major from the 1st Infantry Division who, I suspect,
had been into Paris, and with the jeep and radio halftrack, set
out for the division command post, this having been located by
- who else? -the radio operator.
Our on-the-ball radio operator reported hearing of fighting
at a small town between us and the coordinates given for the
division CP - probably Brie Comte Robert so, driving by night,
we undertook to avoid this as the heaviest armament we had was
a 50 calibre machine gun on the halftrack.
Taking back roads (we had good maps) we went to the outskirts
of Paris before turning north and, driving by blackout, arrived
at the CP according to the coordinates given in the wee hours
of the morning. So dark was it that I got out and walked the
halftrack in, a white handkerchief behind my back.
Morning came and surprise, surprise! We had arrived at General
Hickey's CP and not that of division, but General Rose was there.
He seemed not unpleased to see us. We drove back to the division
CP, passing many Germans coming out of the woods to surrender.
Now the militarily correct formation for the division CP in
these circumstances was to coil off the road with the general
in the center. General Rose did not always follow this rule and
we were not the only ones moving by night, for on the morning
of Aug. 28th, near Levingen, we had stopped with our vehicles
on either side of the road when, at daybreak, a German artillery
column attempted to sneak through our position. Fortunately,
the guards waited until it was on the far side before shooting
but before it was over it was eliminated, but we lost a signal
corps officer KIA and three EM wounded.
A few nights later, probably Sept. 1st, we kept on the move
until well after dark and this time parked on the road. A German
reconnaissance plane flew over to drop flares but, thank goodness,
no bombs. We stopped and got out the usual midnight G-2 Periodic
Report and I opened my sleeping bag beside the halftrack, and
it started to rain! Soon I joined our driver in the cab, where
we both had a couple of drinks before dozing.
The battle of Mons - actually the division CP was at the Chateau
de Warelles, about five miles south of Mons - was another occasion
when it was the Germans moving at night. We were temporarily
cut off, the POW enclosure near the CP was overfilled and clerks
working on reports would go off duty, take a carbine and go on
the firing line! By day messages were flown out by spotter planes.
Somewhere along here with a car driven by French Lt. Edouard
Tresca, a liaison officer, we drove an officer, not one of ours,
by night to a position for line crossing. Later we heard he didn't
make it, the Germans were retreating too fast. This must have
been after Mons.
A story is told of the German general (later field marshal)
Erwin Rommel who, when his troops first landed at Tripoli in
North Africa, had them parade and even had some units drive around
town several times. Maurice Rose may have known about this for
after leaving Mons on Sept. 4th we drove through Charleroi enough
times for me to recognize certain buildings passed before. If
there were any radio equipped Germans left behind they had quite
a show.
The night of Sept. 6th our CP was in a very fancy chateau
about two miles west of Huy, said to be owned by a foreign minister
and equipped with a moat, no less, and one full of water. While
we did not arrive by night, one of the G-3 clerks fell in the
moat!
After leaving Liege and approaching Louveigne well after dark
on Sept. 9th the Luftwaffe dropped bombs on a house ahead of
us and the flames lit the sky. We had heard reports of the fleeing
Germans desperately felling trees across the road to slow our
advance, and it was imperative that we stop, find a suitable
house and get out our reports. This we did, dispossessing a very
angry woman of her home, with GI's bringing in wires from the
generator and telephone through her windows, men with muddy shoes
and no regard for her clean floors!
After the 3rd Armored crossed into Germany in mid-September
and, in need of repair and replacement of material and entering
a period of more or less line stability, due to the stubbornness
of pillboxes on hills 287 and 283, it was the Germans time for
night moves. This was by individuals holding "passes"
distributed behind the German lines by artillery. This small
but steady flow stopped when U.S. Secretary Morgenthau made his
infamous radio speech, proposing to reduce post war Germany to
a vast pastureland. Goebbels, the German propaganda minister,
seized upon this and said, in effect: I told you so!
While in Stolberg there began another night move, this of
V-2's flying overhead at dusk, headed for Liege.
Over on our left flank while at Stolberg, the 104th Infantry
Division, commanded by Major Gen. Terence "de la Mesa"
Allen, initiated a form of night warfare previously not used
to that mode of warfare. Allen had commanded the 1st Infantry
Division in North Africa and Sicily but was relieved because,
it was said, his men were excellent combat types but tended to
beat up on the rear echelon GI's when combat was over or on leave.
Relieved and sent to the states, Allen was given the green
104th Infantry Division and trained them as he wanted - as night
fighters. Upshot was that on the Roer river approaches, his men
would attack in the wee hours of the morning, in darkness after
the engineers had cleared a path through the minefields and outlined
the passage with white tape. The Timberwolves - the 104th - would
surround a village and, without artillery bombardment, have it
taken by dawn. Sometimes, when in a jeep and passing trucks of
the 1st Infantry, some of whom would remember him, he would be
greeted with welcoming cries.
Another night venture took place following the liberation
of Cologne, a large city. Electricity, if available, was not
used for street lighting and to replace it, searchlights, huge
ones, were directed at low clouds producing what was called artificial
moonlight. It was amazing how helpful this was in getting around
at night, but not when one was in a hurry!
On the approach to Cologne, attacks were begun at 4 A.M. as
did the attack east of the Rhine on March 29A and in following
days many weary tankers continued after dark, on the move to
circle the Ruhr.
The night of March 30th, 1945 was one of the saddest in our
history. Major General Maurice Rose, our commander, had not returned
to the command post, killed by a German tank commander on the
approaches to Paderborn, the German tank training facility. Brigadier
General Doyle 0. Hickey had flown into the command post and we
were surrounded by our own artillery, firing all night.
The next day Chief of Staff, Col. John A. Smith, Jr., called
the war correspondents together to announce the general's death.
On April 1st, Task Force Kane, under orders, took off before
dawn for Lippstadt to meet the 2nd Armored. The Ruhr pocket -
now the Rose Pocket - had been closed.
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