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The time when we were positioned in front of our own mine fields was
during the Battle of the Bulge. When the German offensive began, we
were just to the north of that area and several divisions were withdrawn
to engage this breakthrough. When the repositioning of the American and
British troops was done, we were left to guard an extensive area of the
front which had been occupied by 3 divisions. So we were in a very
vulnerable position and the reason for mining the fields and roads to
our rear was to retard the Germans in case of an additional offensive in
our sector. It was certainly an uncomfortable position for several
weeks but nothing like being directly involved in the Bulge. At that
point in time, our division had been weakened (loss of men and
equipment) from the many engagements in the Siegfried line and that
contributed to our defensive assignment. In retrospect, that was most
fortunate for us because the fighting during the Bulge was certainly
fierce and under the worst weather conditions.
Silent Night - Christmas 1944
"The following story, titled "Silent Night" was written by one of the men in
my outfit. I'm one of the characters in the story and it's true in every
sense. It's an odd Christmas story but one that we will always remember
vividly. It says more than any letter that I could write.
It was a couple of weeks before Christmas when we moved into this little
German town, somewhere in the Siegfried line. We were tired and dirty, and
I remember that it had been eight days since I had last been able to wash or
shave. Our clothes were muddy from the frequent contacts with mother earth
while dodging shells during the previous days.
Our Battalion had made an attack on one of the hottest towns and one of the
most desperately defended on the line and had taken it. And then, for three
days we fought off counterattack after counterattack by the Germans, under
constant barrage and shell fire - and held it. Our Battalion Aid station
had been going day and night, at one time evacuating from two battalions
when another outfit went through us to attack the next town. They had taken
this town and now we were moving in behind them to give support in case the
Germans counterattacked here also.
We set up our aid station in the basement of what had been a German
hospital. The Germans of course knew where everything in the town was and
then had every place zeroed in with their artillery. The town was "hot", in
fact they managed to make a direct hit on the tall hospital building every
few minutes, though in the cellar, we were comparatively safe. The upstairs
we like the rest of the buildings in town, pretty much of a mess from the
shelling we had given to it and what help the Germans were now adding.
We were gathered in one of the basement rooms where we had found some beds,
trying to relax our tired and dirty bodies and jumpy nerves from the shaking
buildings as the shells landed all about us. Suddenly, one of our men broke
through the blackout curtain covering the doorway, exhibiting a square box
he had found while rummaging around and we looked with interest at what he
had found. We opened it and discovered an antique music box, complete with
a number of tin records, so we set about getting it going. Any diversion
from the thoughts we had in out minds would be welcomed. We wound it up and
put one of the tin disks on and the room was filled with the strains of
"Silent Night".
A silence fell upon the group in the room and even the shells outside seemed
to stop with the spell of the moment. This tune of peace had come quite
into this atmosphere of war. The music was simple, not spoiled by the
modernization characteristic of most of our American music and it sounded
much like a harp in sweetness. When the record can to an end, it
automatically started over again and no one made a move to stop it for a
long time.
No one spoke. As I glanced over the group of my buddies in the room, I
could see how they had relaxed and there was a soft, far away look in the
eyes of these men who had just seen so much hardness and brutal war. There
were tears in the eyes of many as there were in mine. No, it probably wasn'
t this Christmas they were thinking of, but of the past and the future ones
they hoped to spend with those loved ones, Christmas that will be full of
love and joy and radiant peace. They were my thoughts too, as I slipped out
the picture of "my girl" back home and kissed it gently before returning it
gently to my pocket.
The next day, when we moved on to the next town, a shell came through the
lower window and made ruins and rubble out of out sanctuary.
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Personal photos
The patch of the 102nd Infantry Division.
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