The Forest

National Archives

The platoon moved through the small German village briskly. There were still bedsheets hanging from some upstairs windows as a token of surrender. Not an inhabitant was seen, the villagers were staying well away from their windows, though they would deny it, they knew how their own boys had acted when they had swept through most of the countries in Europe in the early part of the war. It would have been nothing for a trigger happy rifleman to shoot any gawkers. But the Americans really weren't like that. But the Germans didn't know that yet.

The men moved carefully, keeping an eye on upper story windows and roof tops, some of them had been under sniper fire before. Those who had not were continually reminded by their sergeants of the possibility of getting their heads blown off if they didn't pay attention.

1Lt Nate Paddock wasn't that thrilled with the prospect of moving into the forest beyond the village, his sniper team had scouted the area the day before, the trees were packed closely together and sight lines were limited. He looked up and noticed the tall pines swaying in the increasingly colder wind. It was October here in Germany and the days were shorter and the nights colder. Paddock literally shivered at the thought of fighting in the winter.

"You okay L.T.?" SSgt Herbert Graves was about five paces behind and to his platoon leader's right. He had noticed the young lieutenant shiver and was somewhat concerned. Though the lieutenant was a damn fine soldier, every man lost his edge when he'd seen too much, lost men, and had to kill the enemy. 1Lt Paddock had experienced all three.

"I'm okay Herb. Do you feel that wind, it's getting colder isn't it?"

"Yes sir, yes it is."

"I was thinking of winter, it's not that far off. Up on the Hudson it gets pretty cold come October, I even saw snow in my second year at the Point. That was a cold winter. Any idea what it's like here?" The lieutenant raised a hand to halt the platoon. Another gesture and the men deployed into skirmish order, two squads up, another - Mike Peavey's 3rd - in reserve, just behind the command element.

"It's not as cold here as it is in the northeastern United States. At least that's what I've heard. Buddy of mine works for the division weatherman, they're predicting a colder than normal winter this year. So who knows?" SSgt Graves looked over the deployment of the platoon, some of the new kids were still semi-clueless as to what to do, but their sergeants and corporals chivvied them into position and pointed to where their sectors were for observation. Given a few months, these new boys would make fine infantry. But they didn't have a few months, a few weeks at most.

Pvt Charlie Gammell and his spotter, PFC Jackson Hebert were on a slight rise just outside the village. Gammell had been scanning the nearby treeline for any sign of the enemy. He saw nothing but the swaying pines, heard nothing but the moan of the wind. Without taking his eye from his scope he told Hebert, "It's clear Bear, I don't see anything."

"Got it." Hebert passed on the word to his squad leader, Sgt Jack Wilson, who signaled to Jenkins 2nd Squad, and the two squads moved off for the forest, with 3rd Squad in support about 50 yards back. "Of course, I don't expect to see any Krauts until we get into those f**king woods. Well, not see 'em but we'll hear them when they open up on us." Bear grumbled aloud.

Gammell just shook his head as the two men moved to their next position, Bear loved to worry. But the man did have a point.

The newest member of the squad, Stump Gentile, actually felt good to be back with the infantry. Months in hospital followed by a week at a replacement depot almost made him long for combat. He knew that that was a crazy thought, but he felt like he belonged here. He'd survived a lot, he felt sure he was going to make it. But he didn't want to take any unnecessary chances. He'd seen guys make that mistake and pay the price.

"Hey Hank, move to your right a bit, keep your interval. Also, keep your head up buddy, stay low. And for crying out loud, don't lose sight of J.L.!"

J.L., PFC Jack Leonard, was to Pvt Hank Cambridge's right. He had been awfully nervous lately and Gentile had noticed it. The kid seemed stretched to the breaking point, Gentile had taken on the job of keeping an eye on the kid. He didn't seem to have any friends in the platoon and that worried Gentile.

Two well-concealed German infantrymen were just inside the treeline, unseen by Gammell through his rifle scope, watching the Amis advancing out of the small village. At least a full platoon, no doubt the rest of their company was nearby. The German sergeant knew that at best he had maybe ten men further back on the line who knew what they were doing, the other thirty or so were former Luftwaffe men. If they even fired their weapons in the general direction of the enemy he would count himself lucky.

He was about ready to move back to the trench line when he noticed that the Americans had stopped, like they were waiting for something.

1Lt Paddock looked at his watch, the platoon was set, waiting for the artillery they had been promised. Sure enough at precisely the right time he heard the whistle of artillery rounds overhead. Mere seconds later, he saw the flashes of detonating explosives dimly through the trees ahead, followed by the roar and crump of the explosions. If the captain had guessed right, the best spot for the Germans to set up ahead of them was getting pounded.

It was no more than a shallow gully in the forest, but it provided cover for the 42 men of the 246th Volksgrenadier Division who had been detailed to cover this sector of the front. The Amis had been patrolling aggressively as of late and it was thought that this was a good spot to hit the Amis when they came back this way.

Three MG 42s were positioned to cover the approaches through the trees, one was positioned so that it swept the entire front of the position. There weren't many veterans in this platoon, but the platoon leader, a lieutenant newly promoted from the ranks had those veterans in key positions along the line. He hoped that they could at least keep the former Luftwaffe men on the line and firing their weapons.

The lieutenant was waiting for his platoon sergeant to report back in the event the Amis made a move from the village perhaps 400 meters to their front. He was studying his map when his radio operator asked him, "Herr Leutnant, what's that noise?"

The former sergeant had heard the sound before, perhaps it just didn't register immediately due to a lack of sleep and not having had a decent meal in over three days. Before his conscious mind could react, the first 105 mm shell burst over the left flank of his position, up in the trees about ten meters overhead, spraying the machine gun position directly below with hot steel and shattered pine.

Those men were out of action immediately, the gunner transfixed by a wood splinter the size of a man's forearm, his assistant badly wounded by steel fragments from the shell. Of the three rifleman in support, only one was still capable of action. The other two were either dead or dying.

One group of infantrymen attempted to pull back out of the gully and were caught in the open by a shell which had managed to miss all of the trees nearby. It exploded when it hit the ground, vaporizing the two men nearest the explosion, killing two more ten meters away from the epicenter of the blast via fragmentation, and yet another man some fifteen meters away was dead due to concussive shock.

Only ten shells fell on the position, but that was enough. Of the 40 men in the gully, 27 were killed outright and all but two of the remainder were badly wounded. The lieutenant and his radioman were physically unhurt but both were deaf and in a state of shock from the extreme violence which had rained down all around them.

When the last echo of the short barrage ended, Paddock signaled his men to advance. They were braced for any German reaction, some of the men were moving forward hunched as a man might move into a strong wind with heavy rain. As if that might actually protect them from a hail of German bullets.

But that hail never came.

Just inside the treeline a German voice called out, "Don't shoot, we surrender!"

Cpl Melvin Katz ordered them in his excellent Viennese-accented German to throw down their weapons and their helmets then come out into the open with their hands raised as high as they could possibly raise them.

In short order, two men, both wearing greatcoats, came out from the treeline. Both looked dirty and disheveled, the results of months in retreat and the past few weeks desperately trying to build up their defenses along this stretch of the line.

Both were seasoned veterans, one an Oberfeldwebel, which Cat told the lieutenant was the equivalent of a Master Sergeant. The two men were searched, Cat noted that both wore the ribbon of the Eastern Medal, what the Germans sarcastically referred to as the 'Frozen Meat Medal,' a decoration awarded to those men of the Wehrmacht who had survived the first winter in Russia. Both also wore the ribbon of the Iron Cross 2nd Class, the Oberfeldwebel also wore the 1st Class medal on his tunic.

"Lieutenant, these two guys aren't your run of the mill draftee. They're hard core professionals." Briefly, in German, Cat asked the Oberfeldwebel why they were surrendering.

"The war is lost, we haven't eaten in days, haven't been paid in months. Why die now? You people will be in Berlin by Christmas."

All of that had been said in German, which Cpl Katz translated for the lieutenant. After which, Paddock said, "Romano, Jones, take these two back to the company CP, then hustle your asses right back here."

Those two men fixed their bayonets and promptly herded the two Germans back into the village. The two Germans looked relieved on the one hand, and resigned on the other. Relieved that they might live another day, resigned to the fact that they had committed treason by surrendering. But neither man cared anymore. Not one whit...

The men of 2nd Platoon, Charlie Company, 1st Battalion of the 26th Infantry Regiment found the ruins of the German platoon which had been positioned to stop Charlie Company. There were multiple dead and enough wounded to keep Doc Milbury busy until the remainder of the company came up.

PFC Stump Gentile and PFC Jack Leonard found the body of the German lieutenant nearby. They had found him when they heard a man sobbing uncontrollably. The lieutenant, demoralized and in shock, looking at the wreck of his first command, had pulled out his Walther pistol and bid his radio operator farewell, then shot himself. His blood and bits of brain matter had spattered all over the young grenadier. Who immediately began to cry.

"Hey L.T., Corporal Katz, c'mere!" Gentile shouted.

Paddock was brought up short by the sight of the dead German lieutenant, his eyes still open, staring at nothing, his pistol still in his hand. "What the Hell?" Was all he managed to say.

The men were all surprised when Cat knelt next to the sobbing German placed one hand on the man's shoulder and said, "Ruhe dich aus, Junge, dein Krieg ist vorbei, wir werden dich jetzt beschützen.¹"

More surprising still was when the young German turned to Cat, threw his arms around the corporal and continued to sob.

Katz patted the man on the back and said, over and over, "Beruhige dich jetzt, weine nicht.²"

Eventually Cat calmed the young German down and he let himself be led to the rear, turning back twice, still sobbing, to say, "Mein Gott, mein Gott, es tut mir leid, Herr Leutnant, es tut mir so leid.³" The man was inconsolable.

When Cat told the lieutenant what the man was saying, even SSgt Graves got a little misty eyed. Looking over the bodies of the dead Germans and those whom even now Doc Milbury was trying to keep alive (two of them had already died in spite of Doc's efforts), Graves said, "We're fighting kids, L.T., is this all the Krauts have left, a couple of veterans and a bunch of kids? Jesus Christ, this shit makes me sick." Graves spat on the forest floor when he had said his piece.

Paddock had seen a lot in his short four months at the front, he felt as if he had aged a hundred years, but they had a job to do, he turned to Graves and ordered, "Get the men on line and moving Herb, detail a couple of men to help Doc, but we've got to press on."

"Yessir."

Soon the platoon was back in skirmish order and was moving again. Paddock consulted his map, there was a small stream perhaps 500 yards further on, they were to move to that position, dig in, and await further orders. "I need a drink," the lieutenant mumbled as he put his map away.

SSgt Graves said, "I'm buying L.T., as soon as this f**king war is over. As much as you can drink."






¹ Rest easy boy, your war is over, we will protect you now.
² Calm down now, don't cry.
³ My God, my God, I'm sorry lieutenant, I'm so sorry.