Travel Day

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Heading back to Little Rhody today.

Posting will be light, probably nothing until Sunday.

So, read those folks on the sidebar and not to worry, I have another installment of Panzer 413 in work. Just gonna take a day or so to settle back into normal operating routine.

See you on the flip side.

Winter

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It's been winter for a few days now, haven't seen any snow yet, not that I really want it, but I won't say no. I'm still a ten year old boy at heart. But yowza has it been cold.

Not northern Canada cold, but in the twenties cold. I expected it to be warmer in Virginia but the temperatures have been the same as Rhode Island. With Little Rhody being perhaps a tad cooler.

Ankle hurts, not as bad as the other day. Now it isn't as swollen but man, it is colorful.

So, just a quick note to let you know I'm alive. But lazy, very lazy.

But hey, I'm on vacation.

Back soon.

How the Mighty Have Fallen

See the brace? I don't ordinarily wear one of those, it's a new addition to my wardrobe.

The Nuke and I were out walking the dogs, hadn't gone that far when Bear, who was on my wing, decided to stop and sniff something interesting. So I turned to see what she was doing,

Bear in mind (no pun intended, well, maybe a little) it was dark out. As I turned to starboard, my foot managed to find the edge of a sunken hatchway in the sidewalk. I'd call it a grate, but it was solid, more like a hatch.

Thing is, the hatch was recessed about a half inch into the concrete. My foot found the precise spot where my ankle decided, "Fire truck this, I'm rolling this old man."

I heard (and felt) a "pop" as my ankle decided to "give way all." Down I went onto the sidewalk, with all the grace of a dropped sack of potatoes. But back in the day I learned how to fall, sort of, it wasn't pretty but nothing important was bounce checked. No concussion protocol necessary.

But oh Madre de Dios did it hurt like a sumbitch.

"Dad, are you okay?" The Nuke inquired, as Kodi licked my face.

"Ah negative, Ghostrider, I am not okay."

Actually what I said sounded more like, "Ow, ow, ow, ow, jumping Jiminy it hurts like a sumbitch! Gimme a minute, m'kay?"

"Can you walk on it? Can you move it?"

"Standby, running a full BIT check..."

Actually what I said sounded more like, "Ow, ow, ow, ow, jumping Jiminy it hurts like a sumbitch!"

Eventually I regained my senses and rather gingerly moved my foot around (the right one mind you, the one not attached to my bad knee, or perhaps I should say worse knee). Seemed functional. Slowly I tried to arise from my reclined position on the sidewalk.

It was slow, it was awkward and oh yes, oh shit, oh dear, it hurt. But I discovered that I could more or less move, I could put a little weight on it. (Which, not to jump ahead in our story, the Doc at the ER said, "Oh, you shouldn't put any weight on it."

Hhmm, so should the wee daughter of mine attempted to lift my not inconsiderable bulk from the grip of the sidewalk? Nah, I told the Doc, "Okay, I won't do that again."

Off to the ER we went, fortunately it wasn't busy, couple of young kids with stomach bugs, not happy campers. No GSWs, no automotive mishaps, no belligerent drunks (yes, I've seen all of those in various ERs, here and there).

Got in, they took X-rays, three I think, then I was pronounced bowed but unbroken. 'Tis a sprain, no broken bones. Ice it, take pain meds as necessary (they offered opioids, I only hesitated a second before saying, "Nah, I'm good. OTC meds should be fine."), and here's a referral to an orthopedic guy, should you need it.

I'm "okay," but I won't be doing a lot of walking for the next few days (perhaps a fortnight the Doc said). Just what you want while visiting the Nation's Capital.

Ah well, I had a good couple of days, and that's no wee sma' thing.

So I am somewhat hobbled, and somewhat humbled. This too, shall pass.

Like Buck said, "It's always sumthin'."

Why yes, yes it is.

The Game

Coin Toss, Broncos vs Redskins
Christmas Eve 2017

I played football as a kid, I enjoyed it and there are days I miss it. I used to watch every single NFL game I could. Three games on Sunday, one on Monday night, one on Thursday night, and the occasional Saturday game, once the college season was over.

In recent years though, I have grown tired of spending most of my Sunday in front of the television. I still enjoy the game and as the playoffs approach I expect that I'll be watching the games again. At least throughout the playoffs. (Cue Jim Mora.)

Christmas Eve was the first time I have had the opportunity to actually attend a pro game. I used to think that watching it in the comfort of my own home was preferable to attending in person.

Depending on the seats one has, I like being there in person. There's a lot going on in those big stadiums, the game itself seems to go faster when in attendance. While the folks at home are getting bombarded with commercials, in the stadium there are other things going on.

Yes, the cheerleaders are present. Always trying to keep the crowd engaged during commercial breaks.

At halftime there's the band, much more entertaining than watching the in studio talking heads.

Oh yeah, there's a game going on out there as well.

I had fun Sunday afternoon. The Nuke had got us awesome seats, 45 yard line, front row.

First thing I noticed is that everything seems smaller than what it seems on television. The players, while they are pretty big guys for the most part, look more human-sized in person. The field doesn't look as long nor as wide. It looks as I remember it from high school.

But man, the game is incredibly fast. More so in person. I've watched a couple of games on television since Sunday. It looks artificial on television, looks real in person.

It was a cool thing to do on a Christmas Eve, Fed Ex field is nice, has a very cozy feeling. Folks are nice down here in northern Virginia.

I'd do it again, seeing it up close and personal reminded me of what I loved about the game when I was young.

Hope everyone had an awesome Christmas.

I did.

So, This is Christmas*

Saw this picture on Instapundit and really liked it.  It conveys so many emotions, relief, happiness, wonder and most of all Joy, and that, to me is the meaning of Christmas. She probably has no idea who the guy who's hugging her mother is, but Mom's happy, so she's happy.  Dad's been doing his duty to protect those he loves and get's to see the results of that effort.  I think it's an excellent Christmas photo.

My Dad was always a big fan of Christmas although you had to see through the gruff and bluff.  After Mom passed, he moved here and bought  a house with extra high ceilings.  That Christmas, he went and bought an extra tall Christmas tree and decorated it.  (Which, scared the heck out of me when I came by and saw him on the ladder.  Discourage him from doing that?  Not gonna happen!)  He did that for several years until he fell and hurt his back.  Then....I got to practice climbing that ladder and decorating.  

When he passed, what to do with his Tree was the subject of discussion.  Unfortunately, nobody had a house where it would fit.  Disposing of it was not an option we would consider.  But that Christmas, I noticed the staff at the Elementary School was setting up a dinky little 4' tree.  Marched into the Principal's office and told her I had something better.

They've set up Dad's tree in the vestibule every year since. Kinda brings him back a little.

Yes...I believe Dad had a finger in that set of circumstances.

I also believe that Christmas has nothing to do with presents and things, it's got everything to do with Family and Friends and it started with a Family of three in Bethlehem.  They didn't have much but they had each other and the greatest gift of all.   So... I'm going to focus on my family.

We hope things continue to progress with My Beautiful Daughter and her Boyfriend.  

So....THIS is Christmas!

Mrs Juvat and My Christmas gift arrived Friday Night.  Little Juvat arrived home Friday night after a 31 hour trip with delays for Fog at one stop, rain at another, and then American lost his bags.  All that having been said, there was Joy on his arrival.

Merry Christmas to all our Readers, may you have a peaceful, joyous Holiday Season, and a wonderful New Year.

I'm going to go spend some time with my Family. 

*From the Lyrics of a song by John Lennon

And It Came to Pass...

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And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.

And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.

And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.

For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.

And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us. Luke 2:8-15 (KJV)

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From my family to yours, may the Blessings and Peace of Christmas be yours now and in the years to come.

Wishing you joy, and love.

Merry Christmas!

Hallelujah!

Panzer 413 - Hell is Cold

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MSgt Ted Dixon was not a man to be rushed. His guys were wiring the bridge on the road which led to Limerlé, the tanker he'd picked up in Gouvy said that the Krauts had already gone down that road, so why bother blowing the bridge?

"Well, we're on this side, they're on the other. While this is a pretty small creek, no bridge will slow the Krauts down won't it? Keeping them away from our own precious selves. I like that, don't you?"

The tanker just shook his head and walked back to his tank. He didn't understand combat engineers, thought they were all nuts.

The tanker was Mac Peterson, he'd lost track of how many days they'd been running around these Belgian woods and hills. One moment cozy in barracks, the next on the road with Tom Friedman to meet up with replacements who'd been sent forward already. And wasn't that just like the freaking Army?

Now Tom and his crew were dead, not 50 yards to their front, still in their burned out tank, not far from the wreck of the Tiger Boston Beans had killed. Their youngest crewman, Private Herring had wondered why he smelled burned meat when they'd driven past the two wrecks. Wondered out loud until Louis Clark, their tank's driver had told him to shut the Hell up. The kid would learn.

Damn replacements.

As he grabbed the main gun and climbed up to the turret, he saw the engineer waving at him. Looks like they were ready to move out. Hooking up to the intercom, Mac ordered Louis to turn Tennessee Whiskey around and follow the engineers. Bob Norwood was already cranking the turret around to face over the back deck of the tank. Just to discourage anyone coming up the road behind them. Only Krauts were back there.

As they moved out, the wind kicked up and the snow started up again. Mac thought, if I survive this damn war, I'm moving to someplace where they don't know what snow is!

Pierre Marchand stood in the doorway of his home and watched as the German officer climbed down from his tank. Pierre hated les Boches, he had been a young man in the 1914 war, too young for the army, but old enough to remember the Germans. They had had his maternal grandfather and two of his cousins shot. To encourage the rest of the village to cooperate with them.

"Old man! Have you seen the Americans? How many men? Tanks?"

Of course the pig spoke in German, why did les Boches always think that everyone in this part of Belgium spoke German. All the German speakers were over in St. Vith, here they were all good Walloons, not Huns.

Kurt Langanke looked at the Belgian standing in front of him with frustration. Did these stupid peasants always have to act like they knew nothing? Maybe the clod didn't speak German. So...

"Vieil homme, avez-vous vu les Américains?"

"Avez-vous vu des chars, de l'infanterie, combien?"

"Can you speak at all you bloody clod?"

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As the Boche talked to him in his terrible French, Pierre had a sudden chill. When the man's white camouflage coat collar fell open, he could see the SS-runes on the man's uniform. An SS-man, Pierre didn't feel good about this. He better tell him about the tank and the trucks, three weren't there? Maybe twenty men?

"Un char, trois camions, peut-être 20 hommes, commandant."

Pierre was shaking now, he hoped the German thought it was from the cold. Go, just go, fight your war somewhere else, he thought.

The Hauptsturmführer thought for a moment. Seemed plausible, if the Ami had had a stronger force then they might have stood their ground. He'd been seeing signs of American panic for two days now. Abandoned vehicles and equipment, even overcoats and rifles thrown off in their hurry to run away. Harrumph, he'd run these bastards to ground, they would have to stand and fight sometime.

"Merci, mon vieux." Kurt turned on his heel to remount his Panther, the old fellow was harmless. Maybe even simple. Chap had been shivering like a newborn colt.

Climbing into the turret he ordered his tank forward and pumped his fist in the air. As he did so, he saw that the snow was harder now.

Scheisse!

As the column of tanks rolled by, Pierre counted 11 of them, they were followed by halftracks packed with infantry. Grimacing at the Germans as they rolled by, they were laughing and mocking him, one even threw a snowball at him.

Pierre shook his fist and yelled the only German he knew, "Scheißkopf!"

For that, an SS Sergeant riding in one of the halftracks shot Pierre Marchand down in the street, right in front of his home.

The Belgian wasn't really that old, he was only forty-two, but he wouldn't see forty-three.

Oberfeldwebel Willi Hoffmeister was frustrated, his old comrade, Otto Krämer had just come back from talking with the company commander. They wanted him and Becker in 414 to travel back up the road they just came down, then over to Rettigny, where there was rumored to be more fuel. They'd be accompanied by two halftracks of panzergrenadiers.

"Secure the fuel Willi, we are starting to be desperately short of that item."

"Verstanden. And after that?"

"Head north, you see here on the map? Take that road down to Houffalize. The rest of the battalion should be there by now."

"Houffalize? I thought we were headed to Bastogne?"

"There's an American tank force in that area, they're threatening our flank and the flank of 6th Panzerarmee. Our Tigers should make short work of them. Then Major Lange will tell us what's next."

Sighing, Willi compared Otto's map to his, he marked Rettigny, the road there, then the road north, then to Houffalize.

Google Maps

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Mac stood on his seat looking down the road, the engineer's jeep was just around the bend in the road, apparently they were setting some mines, both on the road, on the verge, and on the trees beside the road. As the terrain was rising here, the engineer sergeant thought it would be a good spot to slow the Kraut advance in this sector.

Google Streetview

Mac looked around, decided that when the engineers were done, he'd back up a hundred yards or so and wait. If the Krauts made it through the mines, maybe he'd toss a few rounds their way, get their attention, make them deploy, then Tennessee Whiskey would scoot.

Well, we'll see, he thought.

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Langanke was in his turret, trying to stay warm, looking at his map, trying to concentrate. He didn't remember being this tired in Russia, maybe it was the circumstances, the odd "last chance" feeling of this whole offensive. He heard a loud bang behind him, what the...

The Panther behind his had rolled over a mine, Langanke could see that the track was damaged, that's when he noticed the wires running into the trees along the road.

Waving frantically he tried to get the column to halt, too much interference on the radio made it hard to communicate between tanks, sometimes the old fashioned ways were still effective. He heard another bang, looked up to see a tree falling onto the road directly over the turret of the third vehicle in line. His second in command's Panther.

Looks like the Amis were fighting back

Damn it, the damned American engineers!

Mac heard the explosions, ha, that'll teach 'em, he thought.

"Jim, Bob, you boys ready?"

"Got AP up the spout boss," Jim Sherwood answered.

"Sighted in on the bend in road Mac, we're ready." Gunner Bob Norwood chimed in.

Mac settled lower in the turret, no sense being a target just yet.

Langanke had sent one of his halftracks forward, told the sergeant in charge to scout further down the road while they sorted themselves out here. It was slow work but they managed to get one vehicle clear of the hastily planted mine field.

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SS-Hauptscharführer* Manfred Weber had a man on the hood of the halftrack to watch for possible mines and booby traps. He had the rest of the men ready to jump out and deploy should they run into anything.

Well, they did run into something. Something Weber wasn't ready for. This was no simple Belgian peasant to be gunned down.

Mac barked, "Fire!" as the Kraut halftrack rolled around the bend in the road.

The shot bored straight into the driver's compartment of the vehicle, the vehicle slewed to a stop as Jerry Herring opened up with his bow machine gun at the Germans trying to bail out of the stricken vehicle.

His first burst killed the man on the hood, then it killed Weber, as Herring, in his inexperience, let the gun rise from the recoil. He quickly adjusted though and clipped one of the Krauts trying to scramble into the woods alongside the road.

It all ended rather quickly as Tennessee Whiskey fired a high explosive round into the disabled halftrack. Which pretty much finished the battle.

Mac ordered Louis to move out. It would be a while before that halftrack could be moved!

As Langanke's Panther moved out, he was expecting to see his men ahead, engaging American engineers. He wasn't prepared to see his halftrack destroyed and apparently most of its squad dead, scattered around the vehicle or still in the vehicle.

Again, the damn Ami engineers had delayed his column. At this rate they wouldn't make it to Houffalize before morning.

"Put out sentries, we'll lager here for the night!"

And again it was starting to snow.

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As for Panzer 413, Willi's Tiger was waiting for his own engineers to fix a damaged bridge to his front. They'd be lucky to get to Rettigny tonight.

He tugged his collar tight and sat back into his turret. He noticed the snow.

And wondered if any of his family still lived.

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* Hauptscharführer, senior platoon sergeant.