‘Nothing was to be seen of the long awaited II SS Panzer Corps,’ he complained, but in fact the 2nd SS Panzer-Division Das Reich was not that far behind. Having been blocked near St Vith by the continuing traffic chaos on the roads, it had swung round to the south and was about to attack north against the line of the 82nd Airborne, but then had to wait for fuel supplies. The Das Reich burned with impatience at this hold-up. ‘It was known that the army’s 2nd Panzer-Division was pushing towards the west without meeting heavy enemy resistance and already was close to Dinant. No air activity – the route to the Meuse lies open – but the whole division is stuck for 24 hours unable to move because of a lack of fuel!’ Montgomery was almost certainly right to extend the northern shoulder westward to face the threat, and reject the idea of an advance on St Vith as Ridgway and First Army wanted.
The 116th Panzer attacked Hotton later in the day with the 156th Panzergrenadier-Regiment supported by tanks, but they were repulsed by a battalion of the 325th Glider Infantry from the 82nd Airborne, a platoon of tank destroyers and some tanks from Major General Maurice Rose’s 3rd Armored Division which had arrived in the early hours. The commander of the 116th Panzer-Division acknowledged that the Americans fought well. His Kampfgruppe lost several tanks and his men were exhausted. ‘The troops began slowly to realize that the decisive plan must have failed, or that no victory could be won. Morale and efficiency suffered.’
The 2nd Panzer-Division, meanwhile, had only reached Champlon some eighteen kilometres to the south of Hotton as the crow flies. It had been held up at a crossroads south-east of Tenneville by just one company of the 327th Glider Infantry, and Lüttwitz later wanted to charge the divisional commander Oberst Meinrad von Lauchert with cowardice. As well as the battle at Noville, the division had also been delayed by the late arrival of fuel supplies. Some of its units had only just passed north of Bastogne.
Once the fighting was over, civilians in Bourcy and Noville emerged from their cellars to the sight of destruction all around, and the smell of damp smoke, carbonized masonry, burned iron and the seared flesh of farm animals killed in the bombardments. But even the comparative relief that the shelling had stopped was short lived. They found themselves rounded up by one of the SS security service groups from the Sicherheitsdienst. Brutal interrogations began, in an attempt to identify members of the Belgian Resistance and those who had welcomed the Americans in September. The SD officials had newspaper photographs with them of the event. One man in Bourcy, after a savage beating, was taken outside and killed with hammers. They had found a home-made American flag in his cellar. The group moved on to Noville where they murdered seven men, including the priest, Father Delvaux, and the village schoolmaster.
Patton had achieved miracles by regrouping his Third Army so rapidly, but he was hardly enthusiastic about having to concentrate on the relief of Bastogne. He would have much preferred to head for St Vith to cut off the Germans. He was also reluctant to wait until he had a larger force, as Eisenhower had ordered. ‘Ike and [Major General] Bull [the G-3 at SHAEF] are getting jittery about my attacking too soon and too weak,’ he wrote in his diary that day. ‘I have all I can get. If I wait, I will lose surprise.’ Never one to suffer from humility, Patton also wrote to his wife that day: ‘We should get well into the guts of the enemy and cut his supply lines. Destiny sent for me in a hurry when things got tight. Perhaps God saved me for this effort.’ But Patton’s hubris was to embarrass him over the next few days when the breakthrough to Bastogne proved so much harder than he had imagined.
The reconnaissance battalion commanded by Major Rolf Kunkel and the 39th Fusilier Regiment from Kokott’s 26th Volksgrenadier-Division were already seizing villages along the southern perimeter of Bastogne. They were followed by the lead Kampfgruppe of the Panzer Lehr. General Cota of the 28th Division, who had established his headquarters in Sibret, nearly seven kilometres south-west of Bastogne, attempted to organize its defence with a scratch force of stragglers. But they broke under the force of the attack, and Cota had to pull out rapidly. Kokott, visiting the sector, witnessed stragglers from the 28th Division and thought that they came from the Bastogne garrison. A Belgian he spoke to at Sibret assured him that the defenders of Bastogne were falling apart. He became much more hopeful, thinking that perhaps Lüttwitz’s optimism was justified after all.
Kunkel’s Kampfgruppe pushed north, causing considerable alarm in McAuliffe’s headquarters because the VIII Corps artillery based round Senonchamps was vulnerable. Soldiers panicked in one field artillery battalion and fled; but a rapidly improvised force, backed by anti-aircraft half-tracks with quadruple .50 machine guns, arrived just in time. The ‘meat-choppers’ did their gruesome work, and Kunkel’s attack collapsed.
The famished German troops took over farmhouses and villages, glad of shelter now that the temperature was dropping sharply. They slaughtered pigs and cows, seized food from families and exulted when they discovered abandoned stocks of American equipment and rations. They treated villagers with as much suspicion as many American soldiers treated the Belgians within the encirclement.
Further to the south the 5th Fallschirmjäger-Division had reached the road from Bastogne to Arlon, ready to block Patton’s advance. The other German divisions had little confidence in their ability to halt a major counter-attack.
The fight to crush the German incursion along the railway track to Bastogne between Bizôry and Foy continued in the fog. Platoons of paratroopers advanced cautiously through pinewoods planted densely in neat rows with no underbrush. ‘It was like a tremendous hall with a green roof supported by many brown columns,’ wrote Major Robert Harwick, who commanded the 1st Battalion of the 506th which had escaped from Noville the day before. They paused at every firebreak and logging trail to observe, before crossing. Orders were given in whispers or by hand signals. From time to time shells from German guns exploded in the tree tops.
The German positions were well concealed, so the paratroopers had no idea where the shots were coming from when they were fired on. Once the enemy foxholes were spotted, the men in an extended skirmish line began to advance in short sprints, while others covered them in classic ‘fire and maneuver’. Attacked from two directions, a number of the volksgrenadiers panicked. Some fled straight into the arms of Harwick’s men and surrendered. ‘Two prisoners came back,’ Harwick wrote. ‘They were terribly scared and kept ducking their heads as the bullets buzzed and whined. Finally, a close burst and they dove for a foxhole. The guard took no chances and threw a grenade in after them. He walked up to the hole and fired four shots from his carbine and returned to the fighting in front … The fight was not long, but it was hard – it was bitter, as all close fighting is. A wounded man lay near to where I had moved. I crawled over. He needed help badly. Beside him was an aid man, still holding a bandage in his hand but with a bullet through his head.’
His men brought in more prisoners once the battle was truly finished. ‘One, terrified, kept falling on his knees, gibbering in German, his eyes continually here and there. He kept repeating in English, “Don’t shoot me!” He finally fell sobbing on the ground and screamed as we lifted him. The rest had an attitude between this man and the coldly aloof lieutenant, who was so aloof, that somehow, somewhere, he got a good stiff punch in the nose.’ The prisoners were forced to carry the American wounded back to the nearest aid station.
Bastogne itself was relatively well provided with food and large supplies of flour, but there was a distinct shortage of rations for the front line. The K-Rations brought for the first three days were soon used up, so soldiers survived mainly on hotcakes and pancakes.
McAuliffe’s main concern was the shortage of artillery shells, especially the 105mm for the short-barrelled howitzers of the 101st Airborne field artillery. Fuel stocks were also a major worry. The tank destroyers and Shermans consumed a vast amount and they were essential in the defence. But, ever since the loss of the field hospital, the mounting number of wounded and the shortage of do
ctors haunted everyone. The low cloud cover meant that airdrops were out of the question. Like Patton and Bradley in Luxembourg, in fact like every commander and American soldier in the Ardennes, medical staff prayed for flying weather.
The German artillery began to concentrate that day on the town of Bastogne itself. The accuracy of their fire led to unjustified suspicions among the military police that there were fifth columnists among the refugees and civilians directing German fire. The town was an easy target, and those in the cellars of the Institut de Notre-Dame could feel the ground trembling. One shell hit a small ammunition dump, causing a huge explosion. McAuliffe had to move his headquarters down into cellars. He had been joined by Colonel Roberts, who, having conducted the operations of his 10th Armored Division combat command independently, was now under McAuliffe. The two men worked well together, and McAuliffe’s expertise as an artilleryman was very useful in a defence which depended so much on that arm.
Since the 26th Volksgrenadier-Division was to be left with just a Kampfgruppe of the Panzer Lehr to take Bastogne, Lüttwitz the corps commander ordered General Bayerlein to send in a negotiator to demand the town’s surrender to avoid total annihilation. Lüttwitz was under strict instructions from Führer headquarters not to divert any more troops for the capture of Bastogne, so this demand for surrender, which was to be delivered next day, was simply a bluff.
The defensive perimeter around Bastogne was porous to say the least, as the infiltration along the railway line had proved. Darkness in the long nights and bad visibility by day made it easy for German groups to slip through and cut a road behind forward positions, in an attempt to provoke a retreat. Whenever this happened, reserve platoons were sent off to deal with them, so there was a lot of ‘rat-hunting’ in damp woods as patrols searched for survivors. The low-lying fog also led to returning patrols being fired on by their own side, and to soldiers on both sides wandering into enemy-held territory by mistake. Captain Richard Winters, the executive officer with the 2nd Battalion of the 506th near Foy, even saw a German soldier with his trousers down, relieving himself behind their command post. ‘After he was finished, I hollered to him in my best German, “Kommen sie hier!” (Come here), which he did. All the poor fellow had in his pockets were a few pictures, trinkets and the butt end of a loaf of black bread, which was very hard.’
The only reserve held back in Bastogne for emergencies was a scratch battalion of some 600 men known as ‘Team SNAFU’ (Situation Normal All Fucked Up). Stragglers from the 28th Infantry Division and survivors from the destruction of the 9th Armored Division combat command east of Bastogne, as well as soldiers suffering from borderline combat fatigue, were all drafted into it. One advantage of the encirclement meant that the defenders, using interior lines, could reinforce threatened sectors rapidly along the roads out of Bastogne. In the meantime, Team SNAFU was used to man roadblocks close to the town and to provide individual replacements for casualties in front-line units.
That night, it began to snow again, and a hard frost was about to set in. It brought mixed blessings, both for Hasbrouck’s force holding on west of St Vith and for the 101st Airborne at Bastogne.
15
Friday 22 December
West of St Vith, the falling snow could have allowed Hasbrouck’s depleted forces to disengage, but no permission to withdraw had arrived. General Ridgway still wanted them to hold out between St Vith and the River Salm.
In the early hours of the morning, Remer’s Führer Begleit Brigade launched an attack on the small town of Rodt some four kilometres west of St Vith. Rodt was defended by American service troops – drivers, cooks and signallers – and by late in the morning Remer’s well-armed force had cleared the place.
Some of Hasbrouck’s men still remained out of contact north-east of St Vith, unaware of the general retreat. At 04.00 a company of armoured infantry received a radio message passed on by the 275th Field Artillery. ‘Your orders are: Go west. Go west. Go west.’ The company commander ordered his platoons to return from outposts one at a time in single file, with ‘each man firmly gripping the belt or pack-straps of the man in front of him’. Visibility was almost non-existent in the heavy snow. They used a compass to aim west. On the way, trudging through the snow, the men became separated from each other, with most killed or captured. Those who escaped through the woods, small canyons and steep hills finally reached the line of light tanks and armoured cars which formed the rearguard of the 7th Armored Division.
The exhausted intelligence and reconnaissance platoon from the 106th Division, which had escaped St Vith with the three Shermans, was woken before dawn by their engines starting up. The tank crews had received an order to pull back, but they had not thought of warning the platoon which had been guarding them. ‘We crawled wearily out of our makeshift foxholes and gathered together in the edge of the woods. Some of the guys had to be supported as they tried to stand, and to a man, walking was painful. Our legs had stiffened up over night and our near frozen feet had become more swollen as we crouched in our defensive positions.’
The tanks attracted German fire as they reached the road to Vielsalm, which revealed that the enemy had advanced beyond them. ‘So, again in the cold wind and snow, we started cautiously southwest through the patch of woods.’ They could hear the heavy fighting in Rodt as the Führer Begleit attacked. So ‘taking advantage of scrub growth and the ever present fog, we made our way further southwest over country lanes until we came to the small village of Neundorf. Approaching the village over a small bridge, we came to a cluster of farmhouses at the edge of the village.’
‘As we crossed this bridge,’ another member of the platoon continued, ‘we were met by a large number of Belgians – men, women and children. I explained who we were and what had happened in Saint-Vith. I shall never forget, as long as I live, the actions of these people. There they were, in front of the advancing German armies and in the midst of the fleeing American army. And what did they do? They very quickly divided us into small groups and took us into their homes. The group I was with, was taken to the home of a wonderful Belgian lady. I don’t know how in the world she did it but it seemed, in minutes, she had a long table loaded with food. There was a huge pot of stewed meat, two large pitchers of milk, boiled potatoes, and loaves of hot bread. You can imagine what happened. We just gorged ourselves. There was a fire going in the fireplace, and it wasn’t long before Irish [PFC John P. Sheehan] was asleep in an old rocking chair in front of the fire. We no sooner had finished eating than we heard the sound of German machine guns a short ways behind us. As we scrambled to leave, we took all the money we had been able to salvage, out of our pockets, and put it in the middle of the table. We could do no less for these wonderful people.’
The advance of the Führer Begleit had split Hasbrouck’s force in two, so he had to pull back further to avoid encirclement. Hasbrouck was furious with Ridgway and his XVIII Airborne Corps headquarters, who wanted him to form a ‘goose-egg’-shaped defence east of the River Salm. Hasbrouck was deeply concerned about his southern flank, because during the night he heard that his task force on the right had captured a German officer from the 2nd SS Panzer-Division Das Reich. If the Das Reich was heading for Gouvy, as the prisoner said, the very weak force there did not stand a chance. Later in the morning of 22 December a fresh German force around Recht, just north of Poteau, was identified as part of the 9th SS Panzer-Division Hohenstaufen. If it was heading for the River Salm, as appeared to be the case, then it threatened to cut off the line of retreat of Combat Command A of the 7th Armored Division. Its commander Colonel Rosebaum reacted quickly. He withdrew his tanks fighting the Führer Begleit and concentrated his force round Poteau to block the SS Hohenstaufen.
That morning one of Montgomery’s British liaison officers appeared at Hasbrouck’s command post in Commanster, twelve kilometres south-west of St Vith. He asked Hasbrouck what he thought should be done. Hasbrouck replied that if higher command believed it essential to maintain an all-round
defence, then he would hold on as long as possible, but he considered that withdrawal was preferable because the woods and lack of roads made it an almost impossible terrain to hold. This was reported back to Montgomery.
Hasbrouck then sent a detailed assessment of his position to Ridgway. German artillery would soon be able to shell his men from all sides, and his supply route via Vielsalm was in danger with the advance of the SS Das Reich. He argued that his remaining forces would be of more use strengthening the 82nd Airborne to resist the Das Reich. Losses in infantry especially had been so great that he doubted whether they would be able to withstand another all-out attack. He added a postscript. ‘I am throwing in my last chips to halt [the Germans] … In my opinion if we don’t get out of here and up north of the 82nd before night, we will not have a 7th Armored Division left.’
Ridgway still rejected the recommendation to withdraw, but Montgomery overruled him in the middle of the afternoon during a visit to First Army headquarters. He sent a signal to Hasbrouck: ‘You have accomplished your mission – a mission well done. It is time to withdraw.’ It was indeed well done. Hasbrouck’s very mixed force had managed to delay the Fifth Panzer Army’s advance by nearly a whole week.
Fortunately for the Americans, the German stampede into St Vith had caused a massive jam. Many of the vehicles were American Jeeps and trucks captured in the Schnee Eifel, and their new owners refused to let them go. The Feldgendarmerie lost control, and a furious Generalfeldmarschall Model was forced to dismount and walk into the ruins of the town his troops had taken so long to seize. The chaos around the key road junction meant that the German commanders would take some time to redeploy their forces. This breathing space gave Brigadier General Clarke the chance to pull back his Combat Command B to a new line. Then an even greater miracle occurred. Hasbrouck’s artillery had been down to their last rounds when a convoy of ninety trucks unexpectedly arrived that morning via circuitous back routes, with 5,000 shells for the 105mm howitzers.