GUARDIANS OF FREEDOM
Saluting Those Who Served in the U.S. Army, Part 5

by Janis Stein

Join me in the continuation of Harold O'Neill's story of his time spent in France and Germany during World War II. Harold recalls American soldiers proceeding through Germany, kicking German civilians out of their homes as they headed toward Bastogne.

Please keep in mind the route depicted in this article is that of Harold's, and not his entire division.

Back in the states when Harold was a boy, he spent some of his summers hanging out at his maternal grandmother's house. His grandmother did not speak English, but rather her native language, German. As a result, Harold had picked up some of the German language. Since no one else in his tank crew was about to try to speak German, Harold was elected to act as spokesman when it was time to walk into the German homes to kick them out for the night. Harold was pretty soft-hearted, and if the Germans in the house they were going to occupy for the night didn't want to seek refuge at their neighbors, Harold, although he wasn't supposed to, allowed the German civilians to go upstairs or go down to the basement.

Before the troops advanced to Germany, Harold and some of the other soldiers sometimes slept in potato bins in the basements of the French. On one such occasion, Harold found a pistol in one of the potato bins - a 3220. The gun resembled an old western pistol with a long barrel. The revolver was more dependable than an automatic, because it did not jam. Harold had a German make him a belt and a holster, and he wore the pistol all the time. Getting in and out of the tank repeatedly with a long-barreled gun was a real pain, but this shorter revolver alleviated the problem.

One evening when Harold entered a home and told the German fellow who lived there he had to move out for the night, the German acted at first as if he didn't understand the request. Although the differences in language sometimes created communication barriers, certain actions and body language were universal it seemed. When Harold pulled out his pistol and cocked the hammer, the German civilian began moving instantly.

There was only one family Harold didn't force out of their home. It was a newer German house, and when Harold knocked on the door, the German male said he did not think they could move. Used to this initial response, Harold asked him why he couldn't leave. The German civilian explained his wife had just had a baby the day before, and when Harold went into the bedroom to confirm his story, he saw the new mother cradling her newborn; a mixture of joy and fear shone in her eyes. Harold's thoughts fled back to his own pregnant wife and the daughter he had left behind in Michigan. Offering them congratulations on their new arrival, Harold went down the road and kicked their neighbors out instead!

Although Harold never knew what he might find behind the doors of the German civilians, for the most part they were all very friendly, and they never had any problems. The German civilians were dying for a taste of hot coffee, and to them, the chocolate bars in the American soldiers' K-rations were simply a little taste of heaven. Since the American soldiers had coffee in their K-rations every day, they had more than enough and willingly shared.

After the 10th Armored Division had been in combat about a month, the officers put the names of the men in the combat troops in each outfit in a hat and stirred them up. Harold and his tank crew were the only ones in Headquarters and Service to be considered combat, so their names were added to the hat as well. The lucky winner drawn would get a three-day pass to Paris if he wanted to go. The Army carried on this little ritual monthly, and one time Harold was lucky enough to have had his name drawn. Since the Army wouldn't let him take a buddy, he didn't know if he really wanted to go by himself. Of course, he wouldn't be completely by himself, since whoever had been chosen from the other units would be going as well. Still, he wouldn't know anybody personally, and he debated on whether he should go. About that time, the Master Sergeant came along, stating his brother had been in England, but should be in Paris by then. The Master Sergeant offered Harold $15 for the pass, so he gladly sold it to him.

Harold and the troops were positioned along the Saar River; they stayed along the Saar for quite a while. Some of the other soldiers in Harold's unit questioned why they never got chosen for the highly-coveted three-day pass. They were angered when they found out their names weren't ever in the hat, because they were not even considered to be combat. A big uproar resulted, and the officers finally said they would put in their names as well. In Harold's opinion, it was only right. Even though they weren't directly on the front line, the Germans mercilessly shelled them every night. The towns in Germany were very close together, some about ten miles apart. As the Germans retreated back to the next town, they knew exactly how many miles it was from where they had previously been. As a result, they knew just how far away the Fighting Tiger's cavalry was.

Harold's job was often distasteful to say the least. He and his tank crew had to crawl down inside abandoned tanks all the time, looking for parts to salvage, and the realities of war proved they found plenty of dead American soldiers along the way. If a vehicle was out of action, though, and it had parts on it Harold's crew could use, they took what was valuable before moving onward.

The Germans' guns were far superior to the Americans' at the time. American light tanks had 37 millimeters and medium tanks, 76 millimeters, compared to the Germans' 88s. To top it off, the rifling in their 88s had so many turns in it, the bullet came out spinning incredibly faster than what the Americans had in use. Because the rifling in American soldiers' guns was half as much, the bullets didn't have as great a spin. American tanks had approximately six inches of armor, and if a German 88 hit the front of a tank, it would drill a hole right through it. The Germans knocked out several fighting tanks, which were about the same size as Harold's tank retriever. Once the bullet penetrated the tank's interior, the shrapnel started flying all around. In addition, tanks carried a lot of ammunition, and once the shrapnel started hitting that ammunition, the resulting explosion would kill all the soldiers within the tank. (Americans copied the Germans' guns, and toward the end of the war, American light tanks were equipped with 90 mm. guns, and medium tanks fought with 120 mm. weaponry.)

Though the Americans had been advancing, the Germans were beginning to have some successes of their own. When the German Army broke through and began their biggest offensive attack, Bastogne underwent a terrible siege. As Bastogne was being bombed by German troops in the middle of December, 1944, the town was defended by America's 101st Airborne Division under the direction of General McAuliffe, and they were eager to receive reinforcements. All the American Generals were called together to formulate a plan of action. General Patton stated he could have two divisions near Bastogne within 48 hours. The 10th Armored Division was one of the chosen two, and Harold and the cavalry would be bringing up the rear.

There were three combat commands in a division: A, B and C. The decision was made to split up, and they took about one-third of the tank companies. Combat Command B was sent in to help the 101st Airborne, who had been flown in and dropped from the sky. Though they were a good outfit, the 101st were always hungry for publicity, and they got a lot of it - much more than the 10th Armored Division. Publicity wasn't necessarily a good thing, however. Journalists weren't supposed to publish all they did, and when Harold's wife Betty read the Detroit paper back in the states, she knew exactly which units had been deployed and where they were planning to attack. Any Germans reading the Detroit paper could have easily gleaned the same information.

D Troop was taken out of the cavalry and was attached to Combat Command B. D Troop went into Bastogne, where they were eventually trapped along with the 101st. D Troop always seemed to get in amongst the worst of the fighting, and this battle was no exception. The battle waged for weeks, and when the Germans finally retreated, they left behind thousands of dead soldiers and a city destroyed.

Harold stayed with the same company for the duration of his enlistment, so he got to know some of the soldiers very well. Harold had a southern friend in D Troop who lived to tell him about his experiences in the Battle of Bastogne. He told Harold one night while they were trapped in Bastogne, he hid in a basement. The southerner didn't dare go outside, because the Germans were walking up and down the streets of Bastogne. He said that night, although he wasn't the least bit religious, he knelt down on the basement floor atop his machine gun. This soldier from Alabama prayed: Please, God, let the sun shine on me one more day. Although he wasn't religious, he prayed to God from his heart that night.

D Troop didn't fare too well as far as their equipment was concerned; the cavalry had to supply them with a full line when the battle was over. They had even lost their kitchen truck. Soldiers from D Troop were standing guard when they heard a tank coming down the street. One of the soldiers banged on the hatch of what he thought was an American tank with his rifle butt, since the tank was all buttoned up. When a German stuck his head out of the tank and started speaking German to him, the soldier ran for cover. The soldier tripped over a barbed wire fence and lay in the snow where he fell. Meanwhile, by the time the German in the tank got the cannon turned around, the only thing sticking up was the kitchen truck. Needless to say, the Germans blew that up as well. The aftermath of the battle kept Harold and the tank retriever crew busy; they towed away anything salvageable, and stripped any parts worthy of their time.

There were a lot of support troops around; though the division had split, the remainder of the division didn't leave. While the battle in Bastogne was waging, Harold and his crew were positioned 12 miles out of Bastogne, half way between Bastogne and Luxembourg City. There was much work to be done by the tank retriever crew along the way. An armored car needed to be pulled out of a ditch, and two trucks ran into each other when it was black out, smashing both vehicles' radiators.

Seeking refuge for the night, the cavalry entered a tavern, which had a bowling alley on one side. Soldiers pulled out their sleeping bags and lay down on the bowling alley lanes where it was nice and smooth. In the tavern, the soldiers were told they could have all the beer they wanted - it just didn't have any alcohol in it, and one of the key ingredients was potato peelings. Regardless, the brew tasted good, and it slid down easily.

One of the best parts of any soldier's day was receiving mail from their loved ones back home. Harold and Betty wrote to each other every day, and the mail was delivered in a very timely manner - except when they were in battle. During the battle, which waged in Bastogne, neither Harold nor Betty received mail for eight weeks, leaving families back home in the dark about the safety of their soldier.

Look for the continuation of Harold O'Neill's story in next month's issue as the Germans continue to shell American troops as Harold moves through Luxembourg.

Copyright © 2005 Janis Stein