Where Do We Go from Here?

(Source)

As you can see from the map above, sorry if it seems a bit busy, from the 14th of August (dashed red line) to the 25th of that same month (solid red line), German resistance west of the Seine River essentially collapsed. While there was still fighting going on, primarily against German rear guards as what was left of the German 7th Army and the Panzer Army under the command of SS General Sepp Dietrich scrambled desperately to get across the Seine River.

Men were still fighting and dying though a lot of unit movements were more administrative than combat related. As the Germans fled, the Allies had to stay on their heels, give them no chance to regroup. Much of the War Diary entries of the 6th Battalion, Royal Scots Fusiliers (Sgt Wallace's outfit) during this period tell of movements on foot and by truck from one location to another, until eventually the unit crosses the Seine. Resistance is met, casualties are taken, but nothing like the scale of the fighting in Normandy around Caen.

Path of the 6th Bn, RSF
(Source)

The War Diary speaks of long treks by truck and on foot, periods of heavy rain, tales of other units occupying their planned bivouacs for the night (leaving the troops to find what cover they might from the elements), and very little in the way of fighting. For example, here's the War Diary entries for the 24th and 25th of August:

24 Aug

The Bn area at DAMBLAINVILLE was in some low lying fields off the main rd. Heavy rain fell during the night but the Bn had rigged up good bivouac shelters and emerged damp rather than wet. Owing to the congested state of the rds fwd no move took place before 1600 when the Bde moved to an area SW of ORBEC 6572, the Bn being allotted the area of the village VIEL 5768. We arrived late in the evening just as it was getting dark and found a congestion of Canadians clearing out of the area. Bn HQ and most of the coys found accommodation in houses, however the night was fine. The CO was warned to attend Bde "O" Gp at 0700 hrs on 25 August and the Bn was warned to expect to move at 0900 hrs.

A "congestion" of Canadians, odd way of describing an ally, n'est-ce pas? I get it though, a long day on the road and you arrive as it's getting dark and you have to wait for another unit to clear out before you can settle in. Just to do it all again the next day...

25 Aug

A very trying day involving a move of approx 35 miles, embussed in TCVs which took from 0900 hrs till 2400 hrs 25/26 August. The Bde moved via BERNAY 8078 and BEAUMONT-LE-ROGER 9376 to the general area of LE NEUBOURG 0263. The rds were crammed with traffic and very dusty. The bridges over the river LA ISLE at BEAUMONT-LE-ROGER had not been repaired by the time we got there and such as remained would not carry TCVs, in consequence the Bn debussed and marched the last 10 miles to a reverse slope position immediately SW of IVILLE 0486. Very little information was available about the enemy, however a general air of optimism prevailed and COs were warned to be prepared to recce fwd for crossings over the river SEINE. This project was abandoned later. The Bn was widely dispersed and could do little more than cover the rds and obvious approaches, however it was generally understood though not confirmed, that an American Armd Div was deployed NE of our positions.

Note that TCV stands for Troop Carrying Vehicle, far too much bother to identify the type of truck I suppose, but that's the Army for you, but it was probably one of these -

A Bedford QL truck leaves a raft after crossing the Rhine near Feldwick.

On the 27th, the battalion was prepared to launch an assault crossing of the Seine River, the War Diary records the following for the remainder of August -

27 Aug

The Bn moved to ST LUBIN 1989 at 1000 hrs and harboured in some thick woods. 227 Bde were ordered to secure a crossing over the SEINE at ANDE 2890 at 1800 on 27 Aug. Various alternative plans were in store for us but at 1815 an LO arrived and gave orders that we were to be at immediate notice to move and secure a further crossing over the river. No further details were available at the moment. At 2000 hrs the Bn moved by march route, under the RSM, to a FAA in the area of some farm buildings 277935 NE of PORTEJOIE 2892. Meanwhile the CO gave out his orders and conducted officers on a brief recce before dark. Briefly the plan was as follows:- The Bn were to cross the SEINE at PORTEJOIE and establish a bridgehead at HERQUEVILLE. The crossing was to be made in assault boats with two coys ("C" and "D") up; transport was divided into priority routes, the first group being 15 vehs which were to include the rear link and 4 6 pr guns while other gps were organised by the MTO on the priority by which they were required within the bridgehead.

28 Aug

Zero hr was ordered at 0030 hrs. The crossing was made almost without opposition, "A" Coy were unfortunate and had two boats shot up by an isolated automatic weapon and lost 1 officer and 8 ORs, fwd coys did not consolidate their final objectives till after dawn on 28 Aug as the thick scrub and high cliffs proved almost impenetrable in the dark. However, by 0800 hrs on 28 Aug the Bn had firmly established the bridgehead and had started to ferry tpt across. During the morning the remainder of the marching tps of the Bde were ferried across. At 1500 hrs the KOSB took over the Bn positions and the Bn was ordered to stand by for a night advance and attack on SENNEVILLE 3197 - the reason why the RSF were again to be used for this action was that no other Bn in the Bde had yet got its "F" and "A" Echelon tpt across the river. At 0830 the Bn moved to a FAA at 306945 slightly South of the fwd tps of 227 Bde who had by now cleared the wood 3194. The CO took Coy Comds on a recce during the move of the Bn but did not manage to see much of the ground.

29 Aug

At 0030 hrs 29 Aug the Bn advanced in the following order:- "B" "D" "C" "HQ" "A" Coys with the object of establishing itself on the high ground EAST of the wood 3196 and SE of SENNEVILLE prior to an assault at first light. The advance was completely successful and by 0200 hrs the high ground was occupied without major incident, a few small enemy posts had been met but no casualties were sustained by our tps. Just before reaching the final positions on the high ground "D" Coy, who had been passed into the lead, found themselves some 500 yds too far WEST and at the same time bumped into a small enemy post. They brought heavy LMG fire to bear on the enemy and then swung EAST to correct their positions. The effect of this manoeuvre was to puzzle the enemy as to our line of adv and flares were sent up from several directions by enemy who presumably thought they were being outflanked. These enemy posts subsequently withdrew before dawn. At 0700 hrs the fwd coys moved in to clear and occupy the village of SENNEVILLE and at 0800 hrs "A" Coy started to clear the large wood 3196 immediately SOUTH of the village. By 0900 hrs the village had been occupied and by 1200 hrs the wood was reported clear by "A" Coy. Remainder of the day was spent digging in and improving our positions, two small recce patrols were sent fwd to the villages of AMFREVILLE-SOUS-LES-MTS 3098, ORGEVILLE 3298 and AMFREVILLE-LES-CHAMPS 3498, these patrols reported the villages to be very lightly held. Throughout the day it poured with rain but the bulk of the Bn were under cover in barns and houses so did not suffer unduly.

30 Aug

A day spent at one-third alertness and the remainder resting. Tpt was ordered to keep off the rds as 53 Div was passing through 15 Div. Throughout the day heavy showers fell. The Bde Comd visited the Bn and told the CO that we could anticipate remaining at SENNEVILLE for a further 3 or 4 days.

31 Aug

A fine sunny day.

So for the Lowland Scots of the 6th battalion, the month ends on a positive note, "A fine sunny day."

Other than losing an officer and 8 "ORs" (military speak for "Other Ranks," which usually denotes junior enlisted men, though can apply to all enlisted men) on the 28th during the crossing, the latter part of August was hectic, though relatively combat free. I get a kick out of the bitching about other units in the War Diary, which is, after all, an official document.

I can't really find anything on the activities of the Big Red One during this time period. I get the impression from some sources that they were mostly moving on trucks towards the Seine as part of Lieutenant General Courtney Hodges' 1st Army assigned to the VII Corps under Major General J. Lawton Collins, "Lighting Joe" as he was known. Rest assured, Sgt Brandt and his squad are alive and well, looking forward to seeing Paris. Of course, they will be sorely disappointed as Paris will be left to the French 2nd Armored Division to liberate. Their colleagues in the 28th Infantry Division will get to march through the city, but with no time for wine and mademoiselles. Much to the disappointment of many a GI.

I've rather lost track of Sgt Fitzhugh and his Firefly, no doubt they will show up again once everyone is across the Seine and Paris has fallen. Things are still being organized in the headlong pursuit of the Germans. No doubt Monty and his staff know precisely where they are.

The men of Lindner's Tiger crew are back in Germany at the Panzerschule at Paderborn. They managed to escape the Falaise Pocket and the pursuit across France. We shall see them again near a place called Arnhem.

All of which leads me to ask myself, where do I go from here with the book, this thing you've been reading and commenting on since early June? So far I have roughly 330 pages of work, I know, I copied all of the posts to Microsoft Word over the weekend. There are many photographs which I can use on the blog (Fair Use and all that) but cannot use in a published work intended for sale. (Dinnae fash ye-selves, all you lads and lasses who've been following along since day one, back in June, will get a free copy, provided it ever gets published.)

The end of the Battle of Normandy seems a logical place to end the first book, which has a lot of gaps and the like to fill in between all the posts you've read so far in order to make it a viable book, for publishing that is. Yes, I'm going to work on that. But Part Two, or the second book if you will, begins soon. I just need a bit of a break.

As I've mentioned before, being creative takes some work, and (and this is a big and) I'll be traveling next week for to see my newest grandchild whose arrival is imminent, so The Nuke assures us. The newest member of the tribe will be her first child and my sixth grandchild. Second grandson by the way.

It's an event eagerly awaited and my head isn't fully in the writing game at the moment. So there is that. I've a lot on my plate but I'll get it under control. I love this writing thing and the response I've had to this tale of people at war. It may be historically based, but in truth, it's a story about people at its core.

So, we'll see how it all plays out.

Stay tuned...

Hill 262

The Falaise Pocket as seen from Hill 262
(Source)

Kowalski was looking out over the valley, he imagined that it was a very pretty place in normal times. These were not normal times, now there were columns of smoke from burning vehicles rising into the summer sky. The roads and fields were also choked with dead people and dead animals. He dragged on his cigarette again, a bad habit he had acquired only recently. It helped with the stench, which was unavoidable. In later years pilots flying high above the battlefield would remark upon the smell. The smell of death.

Exhausted Polish soldiers of the 2nd Polish Armoured Regiment
(Source)

Kowalski was sitting on an empty ammo crate and staring at a knocked out German halftrack in front of him, near the crest of Hill 262. His tank had knocked out this very same halftrack and killed the infantrymen riding in it. It had been a damned hard fight, the Germans were desperate to escape from the trap into which the Amis and Tommies had pushed them. The 1st Polish Armoured Division was the "cork in the bottle" as Field Marshal Montgomery had put it.

Of course the problem is that the cork didn't really seal that "bottle," the Germans were moving Heaven and Earth to get their remaining forces over the ridges near Mont-Ormel. The Americans held Chambois and had been ordered to halt there, rather than collide with the advancing First Canadian Army, to which Kowalski's division was attached.

His regiment was in Battle Group Zgorzelski, which consisted of his own 1st Polish Armoured Regiment, the 9th Infantry Battalion, and a company of anti-tank guns. The terrain was rough - narrow winding rows with steep embankments heading up into the hills near Coudehard.

Situation on 19 August
(Source)

After they had seized that town, they sent the infantry up the hill, to take the high ground, from there they could see the Germans, being pounded by air and artillery, as they advanced like mad men, trying to break through. The infantry were hard pressed, so the tanks climbed the hills to take the Germans in the rear and support the infantry.

Then everything went straight to Hell.

Situation on 20 August
(Source)

The remnants of six Panzer Divisions hit the advancing forces. The Canadians had a unit cut off in St Lambert-sur-Dive, parts of Kowalski's regiment were cut off in Coudehard and most of two Polish battle groups were surrounded on Hill 262 north. The Germans were attacking with the frenzy of desperation. The Poles had elements of two SS Panzer Divisions, the 9th SS "Hohenstauffen" and 2nd SS "Das Reich," in their rear.

As night fell, the fighting got even more desperate.

Looking west from Mont-Ormel
(Source)

At one point Kowalski's tank was separated from the rest of the squadron. Alone, they were down to only a few rounds for the main gun and maybe fifty rounds for the tank's two machine guns.

"If worse comes to worse boys, we'll dismount and fight the Nazis with our personal weapons. Hell, we'll throw rocks at the bastards. The Hun bastards need to be taught again how hard a Pole can fight." Sierzant Jasinski was only half joking, his blood was up.

With practically their last round, they'd destroyed a halftrack which had come tearing up the track, all guns blazing. A single round from the main gun had stopped the vehicle cold. As the infantry and crew bailed out of their vehicle, Kowalski's machine gun and the coaxial gun had ripped them to pieces.

They had stayed in their tank all night. The moans of the German wounded had faded to nothing by sunrise. With that, the battle was over. The last Germans had either died under Polish guns or had managed to slip away further to the south where the Polish guns could not reach.

When the fighting had moved on, when there were no targets left to engage, and no ammunition to engage them with anyway, the crew of Jasinski's tank dismounted. They were exhausted from two days of fighting around Hill 262.

Kowalski had lit a cigarette and wandered down to look at the destroyed German halftrack. Then he noticed something about one of the dead men around the vehicle. The man's face was untouched. Kowalski recognized him.

He sat down hard on a nearby discarded ammunition crate. When his cigarette was finished, he lit another. As he stared at the dead German, his tank commander came up to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"You fought well Kowalski, I'm glad you're in my tank. But tell me son, what is so interesting about that dead German? You've been staring at him for quite some time now."

"I think I know him," was all Kowalski could say.

"Know him, how do you know a German soldier? Are you sure..." Jasinski broke off.

"I get it now. You were one of the guys who got swept up into the German Army in 1943, weren't you?"

"Yes, I was with them for over a year. I fought with them on the beaches in Normandy until the Yanks captured me. Are you going to turn me in?"

"No laddie boy. Many Poles did whatever they could to get to the West after the country was overrun by the Nazis and the Communists. Kapral Wiśniewski was actually in their Navy for a while. When his Schnellboot was sunk in the Channel, the Tommies fished him out of the water and turned him in to our government in London. He convinced them to let him enlist in the Polish forces in exile. You're not alone in your story."

Kowalski simply nodded, he was glad Jasinski understood, he liked these men and wanted to stay with them. But he continued to stare at the dead German.

"Go, check the man's identity disk, just so you'll be sure," Jasinski prodded him.

So Kowalski went over to the body, the face sure looked like the man he'd known in his platoon on D-Day. He had been in a different defensive position so he had no way of knowing what had happened to him.

Rather than check the man's identity disk, he pulled the man's paybook from the left breast pocket of his tunic and opened it. The photo matched the dead man, and there was his name, "Willi Georg Schreiber." Yup, he knew the man.

Kowalski muttered, "I guess his war is over. Mine is just beginning."

"Godspeed Willi, you were a good man, for a German. Let's go Sierzant, there is nothing for me here."

With that the crew mounted up and moments later the big Sherman rumbled back to their designated rally point.

The Falaise pocket was considered closed by the evening of 21 August. Tanks of the Canadian 4th Armoured Division had linked up with the Polish forces in Coudehard, and the Canadian 3rd and 4th Infantry Divisions had fully secured St. Lambert and the northern passage to Chambois. Both Reynolds and McGilvray place the Polish losses on the Maczuga (Polish:bludgeon club cudgel) at 351 killed and wounded and 11 tanks lost, although Jarymowycz gives higher figures of 325 killed, 1,002 wounded, and 114 missing—approximately 20% of the division's combat strength. For the entire operation to close the Falaise pocket, Copp quotes from the 1st Polish Armoured Division's operational report, citing 1,441 casualties including 466 killed in action. McGilvray estimates the German losses in their assaults on the ridge as around 500 dead with a further 1,000 taken prisoner, most of these from the 12th SS Panzer Division. He also records "scores" of Tiger, Panther and Panzer IV tanks destroyed, as well as a significant quantity of artillery pieces. (Source)

Author's Note:

The war isn't over, we'll rejoin Sergeants Brandt, Wallace, and Fitzhugh soon. Their units played their roles in driving the Germans into the Falaise "Cauldron," but their parts in the Battle of Normandy have ended.

On to Paris!

Remnants

On the watch for Allied aircraft
Bundesarchiv

Berlin hadn't authorized it, the commander of 7th Army, though considering it, hadn't ordered it. But the troops knew, they knew that the Amis and the Tommies had won, all that remained was survival.

Ten men - three Fallschirmjäger¹, two Panzer men, one Waffen SS artilleryman, two Army foot soldiers, a Luftwaffe pilot, and a cook - had fallen together by chance and were now trying to escape from what they called "der Kessel von Falaise," the Falaise Cauldron.

They were men on the run, it's not that they were cowards, it's not that they weren't good soldiers, it was just that their army had collapsed. Divisions had been reduced to understrength battalions, regiments were now the size of companies, and companies, in many cases, were the size of understrength platoons.

Casualties among officers and sergeants had been heavy. Taught to lead from the front, taught to counterattack after an enemy advance, they had thrown themselves, and their men, against the mechanized might of the Allies. As a consequence, many of them died, or had been horribly wounded, many had been captured.

Where one Panther, or one Tiger, might make a stand, the swarms of Allied tanks would hardly notice, and yet another panzer would stand in flames in the middle of a field, beside a woodlot, or on some backcountry road. The vehicle and its valuable crew lost forever.

National Archives

The senior man, by rank an Oberwachtmeister², from a transport unit, was the cook. He had a K98k rifle and perhaps 20 rounds of ammunition. Three days ago he had been in command of a field kitchen, a Gulaschkanone (goulash cannon). Five years ago he had owned his own little restaurant in the Harz Mountains. He loved to cook, now it seemed that he was in charge of this rather ragged band.

German Army Field Kitchen
Bundesarchiv

In truth he tended to defer to the three paratroopers, though one of them was, as the pilot called him, just a wrench turner with no aircraft to fix. He had indeed been a mechanic on Ju 52s, the venerable three engined Luftwaffe transport know affectionately as Tante³ Ju. Luftwaffe aircraft of all types were rare to non-existent over Normandy these days. In essence he let the senior paratrooper, an Unteroffizier⁴ take the lead, the man was an experienced soldier and knew his business. The other paratrooper was a young man, only a private, but a veteran of the fighting in Italy and in Normandy.

The pilot was an odd duck, a Feldwebel, he had been a Focke Wulf 190 pilot before managing to get himself shot down over the cauldron. He did not like being on the ground. Though he had jumped from his crippled aircraft with his sidearm, one of the infantrymen had scrounged a rifle and some ammunition for him.

The infantrymen kept to themselves and regretted joining up with this little group, much the same as the two panzer men who had no weapons at all other than their sidearms. They also didn't seem too keen at acquiring anything to fight with. Without their tank they felt helpless. Both also had a haunted look about them, both had seen much in their short lives.

The only one of the group who still felt Germany had a chance to win the war was the SS man. He was an SS-Oberschütze, a senior rifleman from an artillery unit which had been completely destroyed during the American carpet bombing before the offensive which had broken them out of the hedgerow country. He had been a Hitler Youth and kept reminding the others of that.

"We must find our way to a fighting unit, we shouldn't be running like this." Though he meant to sound manly and tough when he said that, the cook thought he sounded like a whining little boy. Which, in truth, he had been not that long ago.

"That's the plan boy, we don't intend to wander around France forever, and I have no desire to spend the rest of the war in a prisoner-of-war cage. If they even bother to take prisoners. Hell, you're in the SS, they'll probably shoot you off hand!" The senior paratrooper could be harsh, he hated the SS and the Nazis. He thought this kid combined the worst aspects of both.

"Calm down Fritz," for that was the Unteroffizier's name, "none of us want to go into a cage. We need to wait for nightfall to move, you've seen the Jabos flying around all day. Do you wish to end up like that!" As he said that, the cook gestured at the nearby road, which was strewn with wrecked vehicles, dead men, and dead horses. The smell of all this death was starting to become noticeable.

National Archives

Every way they turned they were surrounded by the detritus of war.

National Archives

Traveling by night they had so far managed to avoid being attacked by Allied aircraft. Which were so prevalent that they were attacking anything that moved, even single vehicles and small groups of men. They had seen a man on the road yesterday and tried calling out to him, to try and get him to join them under cover. When they finally had gotten his attention, he had started to move in their direction.

The big American P-47 had strafed and killed the man before he had moved ten meters. But the aircraft had not been aiming for the man, he had merely got in the way. None of them had noticed the cleverly camouflaged halftrack in the field near the road, but the enemy pilot had. Swooping down to kill the halftrack, he had hit the man as well. Then moved on to find more victims.

Bundesarchiv

The morning of the third day, the paratrooper had seen what he thought was a German column on the move. Waiting for the column to disperse as the sun came up, the men stayed under cover. Again the Jabos came, again men died, vehicles exploded, horses died not knowing the why of the thing. It left them quiet and stunned at the end of it. So much destruction, even the SS man kept his mouth shut for once.

National Archives

During the day, while the others slept, the young SS man shot himself.

He had been on watch, keeping an eye on things when he saw a sight out on the road which shocked him to his very core, SS men surrendering! He had been taught that the SS never surrendered but always fought to the death. He began to question everything he knew, everything he believed. He felt there was nothing left for him. So he ended it.

National Archives

The cook had trouble believing what the young man had done. "Why, why would he do such a thing?"

"Everything he was raised to believe, his very reason for existence is a f**king lie. That's why he did it. See out there," the paratrooper flung his arm in the direction of the surrendering SS men, "even the supermen are quitting. The war is over. F**k Hitler, I say we surrender as well. I'm not sneaking around in the dark for another night. I've had it."

With that the man smashed his rifle against a tree and threw his helmet deeper into the woods. "Let's go Horst, Hermann, I don't care if they kill us, I've had it."

As he said that he began walking towards the edge of the small copse of trees they had been sheltering in. The other two paratroopers threw away their helmets and rifles as well and followed him. The two tankers and the infantrymen looked at the dead SS man, and decided that they too had had enough.

They headed towards the road where they could hear the paratrooper yelling something in a language which they assumed was English, which none of them spoke. But their hands were in the air as they came out of the trees and no one shot at them.

"What do you say cookie? Do we continue running and hiding, hoping we don't get killed, or do we join our comrades? I have no desire to die for the Fatherland today, nor tomorrow for that matter." After saying that, the pilot tossed his rifle and his sidearm into the brush and stood up.

The cook had seen enough, he knew he wasn't a proper soldier, just a man who enjoyed cooking. His rifle stayed where he had propped it against a tree the night before. It seems like the others had made the right choice. He could see an American soldier in the clearing, yelling at them, in very good German, to surrender. Just to come out and surrender, they wouldn't be harmed.

The cook thought to himself, "The war is lost anyway, maybe someday I can go home again." So he followed the pilot into the clearing.

All around the cauldron, Germans were surrendering. They were tired of dying. Some, those further to the east, managed to get away with only what they carried on their backs, very few vehicles escaped. Of the 80,000 to 100,000 troops who had been trapped in the cauldron, 10,000 - 15,000 were killed, 40,000 - 50,000 were taken prisoner, and 20,000 - 50,000 escaped.

National Archives

The Germans also lost 500 tanks and assault guns. The 7th Army, which had defended the beaches on D-Day was no more.

More than forty German divisions were destroyed during the Battle of Normandy. No exact figures are available, but historians estimate that the battle cost the German forces c. 450,000 men, of whom 240,000 were killed or wounded. The Allies had achieved victory at a cost of 209,672 casualties among the ground forces, including 36,976 killed and 19,221 missing. The Allied air forces lost 16,714 airmen killed or missing in connection with Operation Overlord. The final battle of Operation Overlord, the Liberation of Paris, followed on 25 August, and Overlord ended by 30 August, with the retreat of the last German unit across the Seine. (Source) 

The Battle for Normandy was over.




¹ Paratroopers
² A rank equivalent to a Oberfeldwebel or master sergeant, used by cavalry, artillery, and transport units. The latter two usually horse-drawn. The German military was no where near as motorized as some people think.
³ German for aunt.
⁴ Sergeant

The Charge of The Winged Hussars

Tanks of the 1st Polish Armored Division
(Source)

Former Obergrenadier Jan Kołodziej, formerly of the Deutsches Heer, involuntary as that had been, now went by the nom de guerre Paweł Kowalski. That had been his best friend's name when they were kids. As the Americans were probably carrying Jan Kołodziej as a deserter, he thought the name change was wise. He had been recruited from a POW cage to act as an interpreter for the Americans. After his capture, he had been shipped off to England in an American uniform, with no insignia, and treated rather badly by the men who were supposed to take care of him. The third time one of them had called him a "stupid Polack," he had punched the man, hard enough to break his jaw and knock him out. In the barracks where they were keeping him, he had found some civilian clothes, changed into them, then ran for it. He had had enough of the Yanks.

He had found money in the trousers pocket of his "borrowed" clothing and thought to stop at a pub, he hadn't had a beer since Normandy. He hadn't had a good beer since 1939, before the war. While in the pub he noticed a number of men in British uniforms who were speaking Polish. Taking a chance he went over to them and offered to buy a round, instant camaraderie! They were from the 1st Polish Armoured Regiment, 1 Pułk Pancerny in Polish. The next day he had papers in his new name, and a third uniform since the war began.

He was now a Private, a Szeregowiec in Polish, in the 1st Armoured Regiment of the Polish 1st Armoured Division. He was a bow gunner in a Sherman V commanded by Sierzant (Sergeant) Tobiasz Jasinski.

Emblem of the 1st Armoured Division inspired by the helmet and wings of Polish hussars.

The gunner was Plutonowy (Senior Corporal) Marian Kaczmarek (Paweł, for that is the name he had grown used to in the Polish military, noted that plutonowy was virtually the same rank he himself had had in the German Army). Kaczmarek's number two, the loader in Jasinski's tank was Kapral (Corporal) Jakub Wiśniewski. Completing the crew was one Starszy Szeregowiec (Senior Private/Lance Corporal) Bogumir Zielinski, a very humorless man but an incredible driver. The man could make that Sherman dance!

The Advance of the Canadians and Poles
(Source)

The tank wasn't dancing at the moment. His squadron was driving hard to the southeast, headed towards the village of Cauvicourt, the church spire of which he could just make out through the dust of the tanks ahead. He was sitting up in his hatch, as they all were, as the day was hot and the inside of their steel beast was sweltering.

Approach to Cauvicourt
(Source)

The column began to deploy into an echelon right formation just before they crested the slight rise to their front. As there was a lot of open space to their right, Paweł recognized the wisdom of that formation from his time in the German Army. Jasinski's tank was the number two tank in their troop, number three was a Sherman VC, the one with the 17-pounder cannon.

Echelon right formation
(Source)

As they crested the rise, Paweł saw a muzzle flash to his right front, an instant later the number one tank was hit. It exploded spectacularly, flipping the turret end over end for a number of meters. Paweł quickly buttoned up just before Jasinski ordered the whole crew to do so.

Instinctively Paweł fired a burst from his machine gun in the direction of where he had seen the muzzle flash. Jasinski's turret moved quickly in that direction.

"Target, Panzer IV, 500 yards! Fire!!"

The gun barked and Wiśniewski quickly cleared the gun's breech and began to load another round of armor piercing. The next thing Wiśniewski heard was Jasinski yelling for high explosive. They had killed the German tank with their first round. There was no need for a second.

"Target, infantry just to the right of the church, 150 meters! Load HE."

"HE loaded!" Wiśniewski sang out.

"Fire!!"

Église¹ Saint-Germain de Cauvicourt
(Source)

At that moment German artillery and mortar fire began to impact the crossroads where they were engaging the Germans from. Without a word from Jasinski, Zielinski drove the tank quickly off the road and into the field to their right. Jasinski never ceased to marvel at how Zielinski anticipated his commands. The entire troop was moving in that direction and were now in a line abreast formation, minus their number one of course.

The rest of the day was a blur for Paweł, he couldn't see much from his position but on a couple of occasions he had had the satisfaction of firing at his former colleagues in the German Army. But for the most part it was limited vision, lots of dust coming in through the hatch rim, which he had kept partially open, and heat. It was very hot inside the buttoned up Sherman.

At one point he had heard Jasinski screaming about "Tigers," and then heard his commander yell out "Cholera!²" Their number four tank had been hit and Paweł could see the crew jumping from their disabled vehicle, two of them were machine gunned by German infantry. Though he returned fire in the direction of the Germans, he had no idea if he had hit anything.

Bruised and battered, his troop, two tanks remaining, had halted on a hill (which Paweł later learned was Hill 111). Though the regiment had taken heavy casualties, they had broken the German defenses. It had been a long day, tomorrow promised to be longer still...

From the After Action Report of the 1 Pułk Pancerny³ -

The regiment distinguished itself in the battle for Renemesnil on 9 August 1944. Around 1200hrs, it received heavy artillery and mortar fire in the neighbourhood of the church. Between 1220 and 1255hrs, the Regiment reached the western outskirts of Cauvicourt. In area 84 (S Renemesnil), Tiger tanks appeared with very effective supporting artillery fire. Attacking, the Regiment took Hill 84 by about 1600hrs, but was stopped on the south slope by very fierce anti-tank defences. At 1300hrs, the Commanding Officer of the Regiment decided to attack Hill 111 (along the axis 84 Chein Hausse). Second Squadron of the Regiment captured the hill. The enemy had put up a very heavy fire of mortars, artillery and anti-tank guns. The 1st Armoured Regiment had broken the German defences by the Laison River and reached Hill 111. In this operation, the Regiment suffered heavy losses: 3 officers killed (including the 2 in command) and 10 other ranks; 4 officers wounded and 11 other ranks; 1 officer missing and 7 other ranks. During the action on Hill 111, the 1st Armoured Regiment freed from the Germans about 100 Canadian soldiers who had been without food and ammunition for 2 days. Captured German prisoners confessed that the attack had demoralized the German infantry garrison. (Source)

Unit Flash of the 1st Polish Armoured Regiment
located on the left rear and right front of its vehicles.
(Source)

Tanks of the 1st Armoured Regiment of the 1st Polish Armoured Division
(Source)

The Poles were ready to drive the Germans back to Germany. But the rest of the army seemed to have developed a case of the "slows⁴" as an earlier American leader might have said.

The Germans were defeated, but they could still escape the trap. What was Field Marshal Montgomery waiting for?




¹ Church
² Damnation in Polish.
³ 1st Armoured Regiment
⁴ Abraham Lincoln referring to George McClellan

Operation Lüttich

National Archives

"What do you call this beast again, Kaminski?" Sgt Brandt had noticed just how thrilled Kaminski was with this newest addition to his platoon. The suspension was different and the gun was bigger. Sgt Brandt liked the idea of the bigger gun.

"She's an 'Easy Eight¹,' Bill. Official designation is the M4A3E8, this baby is one of the few in Normandy right now. We were lucky to get her, I have a buddy in the Quartermaster Corps, he pulled some strings and there ya go, new tank!" Kaminski was like a kid with a new toy.

"It's experimental, so the Army wanted a few examples to try in combat. I thought Patton would want 'em, but my buddy said that Georgie was happy with the tanks he's got. Hey, his loss, our gain." Kaminski chuckled as he continued to check out his new vehicle.

Sgt Wilbur Fortin was wandering down the line as if he was looking for someone. Sgt Brandt saw him and yelled, "Hey Wilbur, what do ya need?"

Fortin adjusted his eyeglasses, blinked, then looked at Sgt Brandt, "Uh, L.T. wants to see you. At the CP, it's right over there."

"Talk to you later Kaminski," Brandt said as he slid down the front of the 'Easy Eight.' "Any idea what he wants Wilbur?"

"Nope, hey, I told ya, call me Sgt Fortin, I got more time in grade." Fortin was an annoying little bastard, Brandt wasn't sure how 2Lt Heintzelman had tolerated him. But it's the Army, it takes all kinds.

"Sure, Sgt Fortin. Sure." Brandt headed over to the CP shaking his head.

It wasn't much more than an old shed with a table inside, but 2Lt Paddock set up shop there, as he said, "At least it's dry." Brandt was pretty sure they wouldn't be here long, the Krauts were on the run.

"What's up Sir?"

"Hey Bill, take a look at this map. You see this high ground just east of us?"

Sgt Brandt leaned in and took a good look at the map, then he chuckled.

"Something funny Sarge?"

"Yes sir, just this morning one of my guys asked me where we were, I told him, 'France.' That's about as close as I could get. But now I see where we are. We've come quite a ways from Marigny, haven't we?"

"Yup, about 45 miles by road. By the way, now I know why you don't like riding in the trucks. With the canvas up, you can't see anything, with the canvas down, everything gets covered in dust. You have that trouble riding a tank?"

"Well, yes sir, just not as bad, tanks don't move as fast. Though I think Kaminski thinks he could race a deuce-and-a-half with his tank. The man is nuts."

"Problem?"

"Hell no Sir. The guy knows his business, but he's a tanker, they're all a little crazy!"

"Hahaha, that they are Bill, that they are. Anyway, I need you and your guys up on this high ground," again Paddock pointed at the map, "there are rumors that the Krauts are up to something. No one has any firm idea, but reconnaissance indicates that the Krauts are massing armor to our east. If they can take Mortain, it will certainly set back our efforts to drive towards Falaise. We could cut off the whole Kraut 7th Army if the Brits get their butts in gear."

Brandt looked at the map again, pulled out his own dog-eared and dirty map. "Huh, I don't have that section, I seem to be a map or two behind. We've just been moving too fast I guess. But I'll take the boys up on that ridge and set up a blocking position. Are we still attached to Kaminski's platoon?"

2Lt Paddock shook his head, "I really don't know Bill, he's in a different outfit, I don't know what orders he might get. But I am sending Sgt Maxwell and his machine gun section with you, we've also got a bazooka team I can lend you. A Corporal Jones and a Private Wells, they've been around. If Kaminski can't take you up there, take one of the trucks. Okay?"

"Got it sir, we'll move out immediately."

Sd.Kfz. 234/4 Pakwagen²
Bundesarchiv

Due to the increasing shortage of tanks, the division was starting to use it's lightly armored eight wheeled armored cars in both a reconnaissance and anti-tank role. SS-Untersturmführer Gerd Rossler was very unhappy about that. His small platoon of one Pakwagen and two halftracks was being pushed down this secondary road leading into Mortain. The rest of the 2nd SS Panzer Division 'Das Reich' and 1st SS Panzer Division 'Leibstandarte Adolf Hitler' had been directed to go around the town. Those two prongs of the attack consisted of both divisions' few remaining Panthers and PzKw IVs.

"So we get the side roads, we get to probe!" Rossler slammed his fist on the gun breech as he yelled that out.

"Untersturmführer?" His sergeant looked at him, a little worried. His commander had been out of sorts lately. Well, you couldn't blame him, harassed from the air, constant combat, supplies running low (there had been nothing for breakfast that morning), that would make anyone a bit testy.

"I'm all right Erwin. Too much on my mind."

As the small platoon moved on, Rossler consulted his map, they should be coming up on Mortain soon, probably just the other side of this ridge. Hopefully the Amis were busy with his more heavily armored comrades so he could slip in, look around, then report back.

Approaching Mortain

(Source)

"Steady guys, Kraut armored car and a couple of halftracks nosing up the road." Brandt was nervous, Kaminski's tanks were no longer with them, all he had to stop these vehicles was a bazooka team. He really hoped that Jones and Wells were good with that stovepipe.

He'd positioned them up the road a ways in a cluster of trees. Told them to keep their heads down if Kraut infantry came snooping around. Anything driving on the road, he'd leave it up to them to engage or not. L.T. said they knew their business, Brandt had to trust them. Though he didn't like relying on strangers, they were all he had.

Cpl Judd Maxwell and his machine gun section were hunkered down in the second story of a small barn with good sight lines down the road and into the fields on either side of the road. There wasn't much in the way of hedges along this stretch, Brandt was glad of that.

"Sonsofbitches, Kraut armor, boys, get ready!"

East of Mortain
(Source)

SS-Untersturmführer Gerd Rossler signaled his platoon to slow down, at the top of the ridge was a small farmstead, oddly enough it was nearly untouched, rare in this part of Normandy, the Amis were bombing and shelling anything that moved and anything which might harbor Germans.

Just as he did so he heard a whoosh and then an explosion behind him, as he turned he saw the tail end halftrack slew off the road, the engine and driver's compartments were engulfed in smoke. As he watched the survivors bail out of their damaged machine, the chatter of an Ami machine gun tore his gaze back to his front.

The machine gun killed most of the men jumping from the halftrack, as he began to order his gun to hit the small barn to his left, he could see the muzzle flash of the enemy machine gun. Another anti-tank rocket streaked from a small copse of woods. This one slammed into the gun compartment of Rossler's vehicle and killed it's occupants.

The men from the second halftrack had dismounted and were beginning to deploy on the side of the road away from the machine gun. Unknowingly, they had walked right into a classic L-shaped ambush.

National Archives

Cpl Jack Wilson couldn't believe it when the Krauts jumped from their vehicle and ran right towards his reinforced section. He had both B.A.R. teams, Sgt Brandt had loaned him Red and Cajun because, as he put it, "I've got the .30 cal with me, I want you to have enough firepower to handle any Kraut infantry mounted on vehicles. The stovepipe will do it's thing, you do yours."

Of course, Wilson thought, if the Krauts had jumped the other way, the .30 cal would have nailed them, they really had no choice than to try and deploy on his side of the road. It was a fatal mistake.

They waited, a number of the Krauts were moving, on the ground, wounded. The rest were motionless in the long grass. One of the Germans started to stand up. A burst from Duck's B.A.R. put him down hard.

"Okay guys, we're going to hold right here for the moment. Some of those Krauts might be playing possum and I'm not sure if that undamaged halftrack still has it's driver and gunner on board. So let's just wait a..."

As he was talking, another bazooka rocket came out of the trees and slammed into the undamaged halftrack. From the screams, Wilson guessed that not all of the Krauts had dismounted.

Poor bastards.

Mortain
National Archives

The Germans would not be retaking Mortain. In addition, they lost another hundred tanks and assault guns that could not be replaced. The German Army in Normandy was doomed, all they could hope to do now was escape over the Seine River before the British and Canadians closed the trap at Falaise.

It was time to run.



¹ According to my sources, 2,617 M4A3E8s were produced during August 1944. Obviously it would have been a long shot to see one of these in Normandy that soon, if it even happened at all. Officially they weren't in action until December of 1944. But I like the opening photo, it has an Easy Eight, so through the magic of "poetic" licence, Kaminski gets to try one out. Hey, it could've happened!
² Sd.Kfz. 234/4 Pakwagen = Sonderkraftfahrzeug 234, Special Purpose Vehicle 234 Anti-Tank vehicle

Shadows

(Source, Page 446)

My nose is itching, I really want to scratch it, but I can't. I've got my rifle trained on a patch of brush and I swear there's something in there. It might just be the shadows or the mist, I'll feel better when the sun burns some of this fog off.

We've been in this position all night, right now it's Duck's turn to sleep. We're dug in, but this hole really isn't deep enough for my tastes. The Krauts might be running low on tanks and infantry, but their artillery is still pretty active. They don't fire a lot of rounds, Sarge figures that our flyboys are really pounding their supply lines, so they must be getting low on ammo. Thing is, they've been here for four years, it seems like they have every corner of France zeroed in!

I feel a tug on my sleeve, I almost pee myself then I hear Duck ask, "Charlie, anything out there?"

"Damn it Duck, I dunno. What with this mist and the early morning shadows, I can barely see the front sight on my rifle. There's a patch of brush over across the way, I swear someone's in it."

Duck sat up next to me and took a long look at where I had pointed.

"Kid, I don't see nothing there. It's your imagination."

"I dunno Duck, I swear someone's in there."

The scout from the 17th SS Panzergrenadier Division "Götz von Berlichingen" was frozen in place. He had been watching the American line for 30 minutes or so when he noticed a man in a trench or fighting hole begin to stare in his direction. It was getting lighter out and he needed to get back to his Kampfgruppe¹, Kampfgruppe Wahl. The division had been reduced to 8,500 men at the beginning of July, the scout reckoned there were even fewer left now, maybe 3,000 or so. But the Führer demanded that they attack. So they would.

"Damn it, there's two of them." SS-Unterscharführer Max Klemens thought to himself. He could just see the top of another man's head as the man got up to look in his direction. The original soldier was pointing in his direction. "If I don't move soon, I'm dead man."

Damn it, I swear that's a man, why is he there? Why hasn't he moved? I can almost see his outline, but I'm just not sure. There, there, the sumbitch moved!

Gammell's rifle barked once, twice, then a third time.

"Damn it Charlie! What the Hell are you shooting at?" Duck was angry, Sarge always warned them about firing at shadows, now here's the new guy blasting away at a damned shrub!

Just then Pvt Woodrow "Duck" Simpson heard a rattling gasp from the shrub which Gammell at fired at.

"What the Hell is going on up here?" Sgt Brandt was not happy. He jumped into Gammell's and Simpson's foxhole. He expected a sheepish look from whoever fired the shots, but Simpson looked half-asleep and pretty confused, whereas Gammell was focused on a spot across the small field.

"Duck, cover us. Gammell, with me." Sgt Brandt expected no debate, he expected the new kid to follow him without question, but it stunned him when the kid jerked him back into the hole and snapped, "Wait!"

SS-Unterscharführer Klemens was down, he'd been hit by one round in the upper chest and was having a great deal of difficulty breathing. Another round had gone through his left forearm, shattering both bones. A third round whirred past his head, just missing him. But he was down, down hard. It hurt like Hell.

Bracing himself, he managed to get his rifle, a G43², around and braced on his badly injured forearm. He was trembling, it had hurt a lot to do even that simple task. That's when he noticed that a third American was there, and was climbing out of the fighting position! "Dumme Kerl³, you're a dead man."

Before Sgt Brandt could whirl on Gammell and asked him what the Hell he was playing at, the young private had fired two more rounds.

"I think we can go now Sarge," was all the kid said.

Sgt Brandt took a moment, he was rather at a loss for words. Then Duck said, "Geez Sarge, I think Charlie did see somebody!"

"Gammell?"

"Yeah Sarge?"

"Can we go look now?"

Gammell looked a bit embarrassed, "Sure Sarge, sorry about yanking you down like that."

The first round had hit the dirt in front of Klemens, causing him to flinch, the second hit him just below the rim of his cap, causing him to die.

Cautiously the two Americans moved up to where Klemens' body was. Of course, they didn't know his name was Klemens. They didn't know that he was barely 18 years old and was from a small German-speaking village in Romania, like many in his unit. How could they know?

Sgt Brandt stepped up, the SS man looked very dead, the back of his head was missing, his eyes were open and staring into the dirt where he'd died.

"Charlie, how did you know there was a Kraut here?"

I didn't quite know how to answer. Growing up in the country you get a feel for what's natural and what isn't. Though the German kid's camouflage uniform was pretty effective, his outline was too hard edged, it didn't blend with the background. He stood out more as the day got brighter, then he had moved.

So I shot him. This wasn't the first guy I'd shot at, I'm pretty sure I shot a Kraut tanker a couple of days ago who was running away from his tank. Pretty sure I hit him too, but I didn't go look, there wasn't time, we were in the middle of a firefight, then Sarge found that wounded Kraut in the barn, things were crazy.

"Sarge, I feel kinda sick." I did, I felt like I was gonna puke. Here was a guy who had been alive just fifteen minutes ago, then I killed him.

I killed him.

Sgt Brandt rested his hand on Gammell's shoulder, the kid was shaking a bit. Brandt remembered the first time he knew, absolutely knew, that he'd killed a man. It felt weird, like a line had been crossed that you could never recross. You couldn't undo what had been done. There was a finality which just felt, somehow unreal. He knew what it felt like to end a man's life. He didn't like the feeling, he remembered each and every one, but you didn't dwell on it, you'd go crazy if you did.

Brandt squeezed Gammell's shoulder and said, "Ya got good instincts kid, this guy is a scout. If you hadn't killed him, he would have reported on our positions and then we'd be dead, not him. It's war. Don't think too much about it, okay?"

Gammell kind of shook himself, slung his rifle then rubbed his face with both hands, hard. Taking off his helmet, he ran his sleeve over his forehead.

I knew what Sarge meant. It wasn't like I've never killed anything before, I hunted back home, I had helped to feed the family by hunting when times got bad, I've been doing that since I was about 10. Deer, rabbits, squirrels, whatever would fill the pot.

I still remembered the dead kid in Marigny, I had thought he was a pile of rags. This wasn't the first dead man I'd seen, but this was the first dead man that I had made that way. An odd way of looking at it.

When Sarge squeezed my shoulder, I realized that I had to just shake this off and move on, so I did, I literally shook myself like a dog shaking off the rain. I slung my rifle, rubbed my face as hard as I could. Then I took off my helmet and wiped the sweat from my eyes. 

I placed my helmet back on my head and turning to my sergeant, I said, "I'm okay Sarge. It really is them or us, I'd prefer they die, not us."

Bundesarchiv

"You'll do as I tell you Gerhard, remember, I am your battalion commander. So I get to make these kinds of decisions. Besides, you hate the Königstiger⁴, why would you want to be assigned to one of those? Third Company is being reequipped with them, we're just about out of the E models."

"But Paderborn, the tank school? What the Hell Rolf..."

"Shut up and listen Gerhard. They're building up a new heavy tank company from the Model Es we've got left. Do you want to go to a Panther or a Pzkw IV unit? Do you want to go back to being in a division? I thought you liked the independence of the heavy tank battalions?"

"I do, but, no damn it, I know we'll get stuck with a IV, might as well shoot us all now. We'll go, but what is the deal here anyway?"

Stabsfeldwebel Gerhard Lindner trusted his commander, Major Rolf Fromme, they'd served together for quite some time. But Lindner didn't want to leave sPzAbt⁵ 503, it had been his home since May of 1942. He knew that the unit would be reformed, but right now sPzAbt 503 existed only on paper. They were rebuilding it, starting with 3rd Company and the Tiger IIs, which truth be told he really did hate. Slow, gas guzzling, monstrosities they were, the antithesis of what a tank should be.

"It's a new outfit being formed by a guy we both know, Hans Hummel."

"Die Biene⁶ has his own unit? Is he an officer now?"

"Yes, he's a captain. He's forming a new company from the kids at the Tiger school. He's desperate for experienced Tiger crews."

Lindner shook his head, he wasn't all that keen on joining a unit of greenhorns, but he wasn't all that keen to die here in Normandy. The writing was on the wall, they were losing and the generals were too stupid, too stubborn, or too scared of Hitler to fall back over the Seine.

"You're a bastard, you know that Rolf, right?"

"I assure you Gerhard, my parents were married, to each other." Major Fromme let his sergeant skate very close to the edge all the time. You did that for a man who had saved your life, twice.

"Alright, we'll go. Don't get yourself killed here, all right?"

"Aber natürlich⁷, now go, this is one of the last trains out. Maybe the Amis and the Tommies won't strafe it as it's clearly marked as a hospital train."

"But we're moving troops on it, isn't that..."

"If you won't tell, neither will I. Now go. Wiedersehen."

"Ja, auf Wiedersehen. I'll see you when I see you. Stay alive you old bandit."

"Du auch⁸!"

As the train pulled away from the station, Rolf wondered if he'd see his old friend again. Rumor had it that the 503rd would be rebuilt, then sent to Russia. Major Fromme did not have a good feeling about that. Not at all...





¹ Kampfgruppe - an ad hoc combat organization formed for specific tasks, or when the combat power of a larger unit had been worn down to the point where all that was left was a small group of all arms. Usually they were named for their commanding officer. Of course, on maps at Hitler's headquarters they were still shown as a larger organization.
² The G43 (G for Gewehr) is a semi-automatic German rifle.
³ Stupid chap.
⁴ The Tiger II, the Panzerkampfwagen Tiger Ausf. B.
⁵ sPzAbt, abbreviation for schwere Panzer Abteilung = Heavy Tank Battalion.
⁶ Die Biene is German for "the bee," "Hummel" is German for Bumblebee.
⁷ But naturally.
⁸ You too.