The day was gloomy with a grey overcast as our column trudged up the tree-lined road that led to the Belgian village of Malmedy. Snow covered the road and fields and we were wearing white “Long John” underwear over our uniforms to help with camouflage. I remember that in spite of the cold temperature, well below freezing, I was perspiring from the march and carrying the weight of my back-pack, weapons, and belt tools. I was the lead scout on my platoon’s mission to recover the area where a massacre of American soldiers by a German combat unit of the 1st SS Panzer Division took place on Dec. 17, 1944. It was there about 100 captive American soldiers were marched into a field and systematically shot. A few survived to carry the story to our troops.
As we approached the small valley or glen that was the scene of the tragedy my squad Platoon Leader, Lt. Beardsley, asked me to accompany him to the nearest home that was visible. He needed my services as a translator of any inhabitants, who would be speaking French. After knocking and finding an elderly couple he asked, through me, if there were any German soldiers nearby. They replied that the Germans had left and were probably now positioned on the low foothills that rose in the north of this valley. I cautioned them to stay inside and protect themselves and we rejoined the squad.
As we continued our march the squad leader told us to make a line facing the foothills and to begin digging our foxholes. As first in line I moved forward and to the left and as I did so I spotted a small depression in the snow that looked like a suitable place to dig as it was already sunken below the ground level a few inches. This proved to be a mistake as it had been filled with water and now had a floor of ice. It was too late to change position as we had already begun to attract rifle fire. I chipped away with my entrenching tool, a small shovel with a folding handle. In time I had a spot fashioned where I could at least lie prone with reasonable protection. My spot was on the extreme end of the line on the left side. There was no visible target so we mainly just held our positions as the ground we occupied was the objective wanted by the higher command. They would later check the area carefully for evidence to use in any War Crimes trial that would follow the end of hostilities. But soon the opposition began to strengthen. A machine gun began to chatter from the hills; and, then, mortar shells began to land near us in the field. A very close shell landed just to my right and I felt the shock of the blast and a burning sensation on my back. I found that a fragment of the shell had landed midway on my back and was still very hot to the touch. I later carried that fragment of shell throughout my service as a good luck charm.
As the gunfire continued to gain in intensity and we began to fire back at the flashes my squad leader, Sgt. Irvine, yelled out “Who is on the end of the line?” I answered, “It is me, Scotty.” He then shouted “Go over to the Sgt. Harmon’s squad across the road and tell him to phone the Captain that we are getting heavy fire.”
This was a daunting task. The distance was probably 100 yds. over a white field of snow without a bush or tree to offer minimal protection. I yelled back an affirmative, took a deep breath and began a slogging run, zigzagging back and forth as I went. A sniper fired about two shots at me. I heard the first as it snapped by and the second just missed as I dove into the first foxhole of my destination. It happened to be a deep one dug by Sgt. Harmon himself and the bullet meant for me nicked him in the rear end. After catching my breath and examining the sergeant I used his first aid packet to dress his minor flesh wound with gauze and sulfa powder. He later was awarded the Purple Heart and you can bet I teased him about his wound for the rest of our service together.
Our troops managed to hold the ground until late at night. Then we were gathered into the basement of a home for protection as the enemy began to send Tiger tanks into the area. These fired 88 cal. shells like a huge rifle and we were no match for this opposition. We had one air recon officer with us but the overcast skies meant we could not expect any air support and his communication with any artillery units was unrewarding. Our commanding officer, a Major, contacted our Col. Irvine for advice and was given the order to hold our position! As the tank shells began to zero in on the house above us the Major decided to ignore the order and we began a retreat through the darkness toward our own main forward lines. In this instance I was the trailing soldier in a single file column with only the recon officer behind me. We had been cautioned to keep as silent as possible and to keep at least 10 ft. distance from the man in front. With the overcast no star or moonlight was visible and the darkness was pitch black. From time to time I had to turn back to the recon man and tell him to back off. Obviously he was very nervous and would move closer until he was virtually in lock step with me. In due time we passed by some soldiers on either side of the road who seemed to be digging in. You could hear them working and whispering occasionally, but we were never challenged. Maybe 20 minutes later we were challenged by a forward guard with “Halt! Who goes there?” It was an outpost and we were delighted to have reached our own lines. We mentioned passing the other soldiers without a challenge and he said “There are no other soldiers in front of me. You must have walked right through German troops.” This proved to be true.
The leaders of the unit involved in the massacre of our soldiers were brought to trial and convicted after the war. Co. “C” of our Armored Inf. Bn., were appointed special guards for the German leaders who were being tried at Nuremburg. This is just one episode of my service in combat. Life becomes one stressful occasion after another when fighting a war far from home and no end in sight; you have to live in the moment My heart goes out to those who are facing the same in our ventures overseas today and to their families and loved ones that anxiously await their return. Let’s speed up the return of our troops this year - - - I am
Just sayin’
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