ON TO THE REAL WAR

I have digressed from my UVa saga because at a request for information about the 17^th AB I had dug up material which I had written 12 years ago. Over the years I have from time to time posted segments and I did so yesterday the first part of the “Bulge” incident. There are three more segments of which one I will post daily.

Since this is easy stuff to edit; I shall also supplement "prn" with potpourri containing issues I feel need to be posted.

To continue my story:

On Jan 3^rd we were to move up to the front lines.  The German advance had been stopped and supposedly the Bastogne highway had been reopened by Patton's troops. However, there was still a great deal of anxiety regarding German soldiers in American uniforms. The GIs were often using improvised impromptu pass words based on American sports. The Allies were now ready to counter attack from both the north with Montgomery in command of the combined forces, and the south with Patton’s 3^rd Army.

Due to the division's T/E lack of sufficient vehicles, we were using trucks from an attached separate trucking unit to transport the battalion. Their Sergeant, who was in charge, told us that his lieutenant was last seen several days earlier going down a road in his jeep and there had been no further word from him.

We started out after dark in convoy. The vehicles used only their blackout lights but were spaced too far apart.  We were given a destination and the password for that day.  It was snowing lightly and very cold. 

We came to a fork in the road. The trucks in the convoy that were ahead of us took the left road, and so we followed. Several miles down the road the officer in the first truck realized that they had lost the front  end of the convoy so the trucks pulled up on a circular drive in front of a farmhouse. All the officers with the group were only lieutenants who after pouring over their maps, turned to me and said "Doc, you are the senior officer here (captain) what should we do?” 

Medical officers had rank but exercised no command functions except in their own units.  I suggested the obvious; going back to the fork in the road and taking the right fork, which we did. 

We're now rolling up the Bastogne highway toward the unknown front.   Suddenly our 2_1/2 ton truck stopped out of gas. The others vehicles, even those behind us, continued down the road. It was dark and out of fear that we were German soldiers in disguise nobody would stop.

Finally an armored car stopped. An officer, after supplying us with gasoline, informed us that not only had our destination been changed but also the password.  We followed his directions and arrived in a village at what was supposed to be division headquarters.

I was directed to the command post. Unchallenged, I was suddenly in the general's presence.  I was informed that my regiment was in another village and they would have a guide sent to lead us to our battalion.

I went out to wait. In the mean time, the men had disbursed out of the cold truck into nearby housing.  About an hour later the guide arrived. After rounding the men up, we were led around the corner about 100 yards to another house which was our battalion’s headquarters. The rest of the regiment was in another town.

The next day we moved into the countryside beyond Libramont, where the division was going to mount a counter offensive attack.

Since it was getting near evening, we stopped besides a farmhouse whose upper stories had been destroyed. The bottom level which served as a barn was intact. The walls and ceiling were made of reinforced concrete. Also the building was on the back side of a hill.

We were still very naïve and expected to spend the first of many nights of combat out in the open. Because the ground was frozen hard we ordered the men to dig two men foxholes which also would give additional warmth. As soon as they were well underway, Irby and I started to dig one near the barn.  We had no trouble digging and the further we proceeded it became warmer and moist.  Obviously we were digging in a manure pile.  We decided to move into the barn, cleaning out several stalls. One by one the rest of the men came in out of the cold.  .

This was to be our first combat experience. In the morning, according to protocol, we set up our aid station within a litter carry distance of the front. We were in a little clearing in the woods. We were soon collecting casualties, and we found it impossible to work in the cold. Our plasma was freezing. At first we tried immersed the bags in heated water, but as we administered the plasma, it would still congeal in the tubing.

So much for Carlisle’s training. We decided to move back to the farmhouse, which was about a mile from the battlefield, and use our jeeps to run as near as possible to the front line to pick up casualties. Our litter bearers and aid men now had only a short carry before their burden would be picked up. The wounded now were being treated quicker and better.

The initial action took place in a snow storm on a ridge later named “ Dead Man’s Ridge” Repeated German counter attacks by several Panzer Divisions including Tiger Tanks inflicted heavy casualties.  The battle there lasted about three days. Units involved included the 550.507,513, 194 and 193.  After the Bulge the 550 and the 193^rd   became the nucleus for a 3^rd battalion of the 194^th.

Our medics’ performance under fire was extra-ordinary. Several were awarded a bronze star, and one the Silver Star for their action that day. During the German’s counter attack an aid station of the 193^rd Glider Infantry Regiment was overrun. We did not lose any of our litter bearers.

We were fortunate to have the independent intelligence to use the burned out farmhouse as our aid station. The road was the subject to periodic 88 mm. German artillery shelling.  Our location protected us from anything except a high trajectory shell such as from a mortar. I am sure the thick concrete ceiling that separated the barn area from the ruins of the first floor of the house would have withstood such shells. By Jan. 7^th, our troops had advanced far enough that we had to move. We never set up an aid station in the open after that first experience.

 One day the 9th air force flew over to bomb the Germans. Several bombs landed on a hill not a far distance to our rear. Fortunately, this time no Americans were injured by friendly fire.

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