Vorwärts! Greifen Wir An!*

(Source)

Grenadier Michael Kampf applied the brake again as the column came to yet another stop. The Major had wanted the unit in position by dawn of the 17th, they were still five and a half kilometers short of where they wanted to be by dawn, which was near the small village of Wirtzfeld. Kampf turned to his platoon leader, Leutnant Manfred Sauer.

"We're never going to be there by dawn Leutnant. Can you make out the tank which was ahead of us? I can't even see his tail light now."

Sauer slid back out of the driver's compartment and stood up next to his platoon messenger, Grenadier Stefan Holzbauer, who was manning the MG on the halftrack's roof. He looked through the fog, he thought he could see the tail end of the trail Pzkw III of the panzer platoon which was supposed to be ahead of his platoon.

"The fog is shifting Herr Leutnant, I can see the tail light of the tank every now and then." Unteroffizier Karl-Heinz Köhler, the squad leader of Sauer's 1st Platoon, had come up next to Sauer, which caused Holzbauer to grumble.

"What's that Holzbauer? Problem with the accommodations? Back in my day we'd be on foot, slogging through the cold and the fog. At least you get to ride!"

"Give him a break Opa, if he has to use that gun, we are in the way." Sauer chided Köhler, knowing the "old man" would take it in stride.

"You're right, you're right, Herr Leutnant, but these young pups need to have more respect for a man of my age, right Stefan?" Köhler grinned at the kid manning the gun, who smiled in return.

"You're right Herr Unteroffizier Opa, we should. Need a blanket? A cup of hot tea perhaps?" Holzbauer, along with his squad mates had great respect for their squad leader, and they liked to kid him about his age.

"See what I mean, Sir."

Men and vehicles of the 1st Battalion, 26th Infantry moving up near Bütgenbach, Belgium
U.S. Army Photo

S/Sgt Stephen Hernandez was on foot looking down the column of halftracks which had moved them from Hombourg to just north of Bütgenbach. Rumors of Tiger tanks and swarms of German infantry were rampant within the battalion, as were tales of fleeing U.S. troops abandoning their positions and, what's worse, their equipment.

He'd seen S/Sgt Poole, the platoon sergeant for 3rd Platoon, that morning. His platoon had picked up a couple of stragglers from the 99th Division who had gotten lost in the fog while heading back to Krinkelt from Losheimergraben.

"They were in a jeep, three guys, they came around a corner and there was an SS Panther sitting in the middle of the road. It had thrown a track and the crew were working on it. Behind them was an entire column, all stuck behind this tank."

"Damn, the countryside is a little closer down there, right?" Hernandez had asked.

"Yeah, the road they were on runs down a little valley, the Kraut threw a track right before the terrain opened out again. Good thing for us."

"You said there were three men, you picked up two."

"Yeah, the Kraut tank commander was sitting on top of the tank, when he saw the jeep, he opened up with a machine pistol. The kid riding in the back of the jeep was hit and fell out. The other two hightailed it. Can't say I blame 'em."

"Yeah, sucks to be the guy who got hit though."

"Yup, that it does."

Now Hernandez was waiting for his platoon leader to come up, he wasn't sure where the battalion was supposed to be, he'd heard that 2nd and 3rd Battalions were going to be up front, 1st would be in reserve.

"Well, I guess it's better to be in reserve until the brass can figure out what the Hell is going on. It all smells like panic to me."

S/Sgt Poole had been looking down the road and hadn't heard Hernandez clearly, "What did you say Stephen?"

"Nothing important, Bob. Hey look, that's the L.T.'s jeep right?"

"Yup, maybe he can tell us where the Hell we're supposed to be."

"One can only hope, Bob. One can only hope."

U.S. troops muscling an anti-tank gun into position.
U.S. Army Photo

"Scheiße!" Oberleutnant Ludwig Köhler swore as his Luchs¹ came out of the treeline. He'd spotted the burning tank across the field immediately, he also knew, with a sickening certainty, that it was one of his. They were the only Luchs unit on the Western Front. "Stop the tank Egon," he ordered over the intercom, then on the company frequency he ordered, "All Luchs panzers, hold position, report in."

All of his vehicles except his 1st Platoon's assistant platoon leader reported in. He pulled his field glasses out and surveyed the scene. He could see what appeared to be a Pzkw IV up on the ridge ahead, perhaps that tank had killed his Panzer by mistake? Then he looked at the burning Luchs, there it was, painted on the turret, "112," he also saw a body hanging from the commander's hatch. Impossible to tell who it was, but he just knew that his men, Oberfeldwebel Werner Günther, Oberreiter Rolf Horn, Obergefreiter Paul Lehmann, and Reiter Rudolf Otto were probably dead.

"Now what?"

The engagement had been sharp and quick. The anti-tank men from 2nd Battalion had been quick to get their gun into action. They'd seen the tank coming across the field in front of them when the fog had lifted momentarily, the tank hadn't seen them.

When the fog had lifted again, they were ready. It took only a moment to lay the gun on target, with a crack, the gun sent a 57mm antitank round out. There was a flash on the front of the enemy tank, which didn't seem to faze the vehicle at all, it just kept rolling, for about twenty feet, then it abruptly stopped. Soon after, the commander's hatch flew open as flames could be seen coming out of the driver's vision slit.

As the tank commander tried to free himself from his headset and climb out of the vehicle, every infantryman in sight opened fire on the man. Though perhaps 50-plus rounds had been fired at him, only two had actually hit the man.

As soon as his vehicle was hit, Werner Günther knew they were in trouble. His loader yelled out that the driver and the radio operator were both dead. Günther didn't question Lehmann's opinion, the antitank round had come right through Horn's vision slit, the round had fragmented, injuring Günther himself, only now did he realize that, and also killing Otto.

"Werner we need to get out, the Gottverdammte crate is starting to burn!" Lehmann sounded frantic, so Günther hurriedly opened his hatch and began to climb out, only then did he realize that his headset was still on and the wire attaching him to the radio had caught on his seat.

As he reached down to loosen the wire, then throw off his headset, he could hear bullets spanging off the tank's armor. Freeing himself, finally, he climbed halfway out of the hatch.

The first bullet hit him squarely in the abdomen, doubling him over. He felt like he'd had the wind knocked out of him as he struggled to pull his legs out of the hatch. He could feel Lehmann pushing at his legs. Lehmann was also screaming in agony as his trousers were on fire.

The second bullet took the top of Günther's head off, snapping his head back. Then his body slumped down over the side of the turret, his legs stuck in the hatch opening.

Lehmann didn't make it out. He shot himself with his sidearm as soon as he realized that he was going to burn to death. The hatch on the rear of the vehicle was jammed, he didn't know why, the commander's body blocked the main hatch, and the hatches for the driver and radioman were blocked by the burning bodies of those two men. He was doomed and the pain was starting to overwhelm him.

His last act was to pull out his P 38 service pistol and end it.

"F**k, f**k, f**k, Lou, we gotta turn the gun, that's a f**king Tiger to our left."

The gun commander, Sgt. Louis Redford saw the enemy tank, it was close, but what scared him more were the infantry he saw behind that tank. They had noticed his vehicle and his gun, they were pointing and starting to fan out.

"Target left, pivot, pivot, get this beast turned!" Redford shouted, knowing in his heart that it was probably too late but they had to try.

Against the odds, they got the gun turned and laid on target before the enemy tank noticed them. Then they got a round off. At this range they couldn't miss and miracle of miracles, they hit the Kraut tank right in the turret ring. Which, Redford noticed, wasn't a Tiger at all.

Gunner Bob Rell figured they were screwed so he stood up with his hands in the air. The German infantry shot him down where he stood. Some of them were yelling, "Surrender!"

"Ah Bob, what didja do that for?" Sgt. Redford sobbed as he and the rest of his crew sheltered behind the gun shield. One of the guys, Al Jeffreys, was hit in the foot, but everybody else was okay. The gun's supporting infantry had gone into action instantly, two of the Germans tried to surrender, after seeing what had happened to the hapless gunner, none of the Americans was in a merciful mood. All twelve German infantrymen were shot down.

Redford saw all this, then he realized that the Kraut tank wasn't quite dead.

"Jack, we up?"

"Up!"

"Fire!"

Another round went into the enemy tank, this one penetrated the driver's position. Moments later the vehicle began to smoke, then burn with a fierce blaze issuing from each of the openings. From where Lou Redford sat, it sounded just like a blowtorch. Actually, a bunch of blowtorches.

Major von Lüttwitz came up in his Kübelwagen and stopped just behind Oberleutnant Köhler's tank.

"Why are we stopped?"

Köhler gestured toward his burning vehicle, then to the ridge above. "My boys' job is to find the enemy, Sir. There they are. I'd like to maneuver to the right, see if I can get around them. You see that burning Pzkw IV up there?"

Von Lüttwitz was scanning the ridge with his field glasses. "I see it, somehow that panzer got up there, might be an opening on that flank. Send two of your vehicles over that way."

Köhler obeyed instantly and soon Panzers 115 and 116 were moving to the Kampfgruppe's right. In the meantime von Lüttwitz sent a runner to the rear. He would leave a platoon here, along with Köhler's remaining vehicles, to fix the Americans' attention to their front, while he took the rest of the Kampfgruppe around their flank.

Kampfgruppe (mot) von Lüttwitz, First Skirmish
(Source)

"So we're in reserve, again. I hate this shit!" 1st Lt. Paddock was furious. He wanted to get back at the enemy for many things, he wanted the damned war to be over and the damned Germans didn't know when to quit. It seemed to him that the bastards didn't know how to quit.

"Look L.T. , the situation right now is confused as Hell. I don't want to be charging out there only to run into bunch of Kraut tanks. We dig in here, we wait for orders. You and I both know that Cap'n Palminteri and Major Josephson know their business. Let those other guys move up, when they've assessed the situation, then we'll probably get sent in." Hernandez still had hopes of surviving this war. There was an Army nurse who seemed to want the same thing.

But it seemed that the damned Germans weren't done just yet.

* Forward! We attack!

¹ Luchs is the German word for "Lynx," which was what the Germans called their little reconnaissance tanks, the Panzerspähwagen II.

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