Part 2: The Impossible Patrol
Part 2: The Impossible Patrol
A Rifle Squad In The Valley
If you have not read Part 1 of “The Impossible Patrol,” please do so by clicking here before continuing.
The great caper of thievery fell on Lieutenant Reneau Breard. It would be his job to get the men in close and snatch a live German to bring back. Breard’s draw, refined and proper though it was, like a man of society, could not conceal his Louisiana origins when he spoke. There, the prestige of his family name came from soldiering. The family monarch was a French naval officer who participated in the American Revolution. From then on, every other generation of Breard’s became a soldier of note. His grandson fought seven battles with Stonewall Jackson. And then there was Reneau — leader of swashbuckling paratroops, veteran of mountain warfare, trench warfare, and airborne warfare, scholar of tactics and of rubble, and satisfied with his first performance as a replacement platoon leader a year ago because “nobody shot me.”
The mission along the Nijmegen-Cleve Road was just the one for Lieutenant Breard. He was a practiced tactician. Maps were his language — in later life, every letter I received from him had a map of some kind, edited by his hand — and he had been a “guinea pig” at a battle school in Algeria. As a youth, his three high school summers were eaten up at military camp. College was marked by ROTC, Benning by Infantry School, overseas duty by combat. He was as learned a platoon leader as any.
Welcome to Ridgway’s Notebook, where we offer penetrating essays on military history. Told through the World War II experiences of General Matthew Ridgway and the 82nd Airborne Division, we illustrate some of the similarities between the questions asked by officers of the 82nd yesterday and today—and dissect how they came to be.
Division Wants Prisoners: Patrol Along the Wyler Meer
By Private First Class David H. Whittier
The Nijmegen-Cleve Road runs along the friendly bank of the Wyler Meer and as it approaches the southern end of the lake it passes into the German line where it is shrouded in a heavy copse of trees and tangle underbrush. One hundred and fifty yards from the paratroopers’ forward outpost the enemy had constructed a road black and a dozen felled trees buttressed by a wrecked vehicle and surrounded by teller mines. Entrenched enemy covered the road block and its approaches with rifles, machine guns and “Panzerfausts” — a new rocket-type anti-tank weapon.
It was strongly believed that the raiding party could not hope to achieve success without a preliminary mortar barrage and without plenty of direct support from the artillery, and so the following mortar-artillery schedule was drawn up to cover the operation. At 1635 one 81mm mortar (only one mortar would be used to insure precision firing under conditions requiring the rapid laying and relaying of fire) would drop 40 rounds of HE during a five-minute period on the enemy’s most forward positions, then elevate 25 yards and fire another 40 rounds, and so on through the length of the woods. The patrol would follow as closely on the heels of the barrage as possible and at 1715 the mortar would life and fire on Wyler. One 60mm mortar would maintain continuous fire on the machine-gun emplacement which was known to be located in a house off to the right in a position to deliver flanking fire against the paratroopers.
Two battalions of 75mm airborne howitzers and one battalion of 105mm airborne howitzers, plus two British batters of 25-pounders and 5.5-inch guns would pummel Zyfflich, Wyler, Lagewald and all suspected mortar and gun positions in the vicinity from 1710 until 1740. This total of 52 artillery pieces was to interdict the enemy’s communications with an allotment of 500 rounds, thereby containing for a period of 30 minutes the scene of the patrol’s activities. Two more British field regiments of 25-pounders were to remain on call to make sure that the enemy elements in the woods should remain isolated from their rear.
The 3d Platoon of Company A would make the patrol, so platoon leader Lieutenant Reneau C. Breard increased the fire power of his 27-man platoon by borrowing extra automatic weapons from the company. When the patrol left the [line of departure] they were armed with eight tommy guns, three BARs, two bazookas; the rest of the men carried M1 rifles. One medic accompanied the party. Wire cutters and two rolls of engineering tape were also taken for the purpose of cutting and marking a path through the mine field and barbed wire entanglements.
Three hours before the patrol was scheduled to depart, one of its men slipped out to reconnoiter the area through which they must pass. He found the mine field, which had previously been reported, and at the same time ran into three enemy soldiers who were placing additional mines. After watching the enemy engineers long enough to determine the type of mines they were using, the paratrooper shot one man and then retired to his company position to report his information.
At precisely 1635 the 81mm mortar commenced its firing and as it jumped forward the paratroopers moved out in a platoon formation with three squad columns abreast. The first squad moved up on the left along the edge of the lake with the two bazooka teams, for it was this squad that commanded the road. The third squad, on the right flank, moved along the edge of the woods and as they advanced they dropped BAR men at several points from which they could command good fields of fire in protection of the flank.
After advancing about 100 yards into the woods, the patrol hit the mine field, which was one of the trip-wire variety. The wires, easily seen in daylight, extended from tree to tree at varying distances above the ground, and were attached by means of pull-type detonators to five-pound explosive charges fastened to the tree trunks. The charges, a few of which had been set off by the motor barrage, were interspersed among the trees at five-yard intervals. The paratroopers cut their way through the trip wires and as they moved forward marked a path with white engineering tape. Concertina wire was encountered toward the middle of the belt and that, too, was penetrated with the aid of wire cutters.
The mortar shells, dropping at the rate of one every four or five seconds, were pounding their way ahead as the patrol threaded through the mine field. Corporal Frank L. Heidebrink, who was “pointing” the patrol, had progressed about ten yards past the booby-trapped area when two Germans popped out of “spider” holes and started to man a machine gun practically under his feet. Heidebrink fired his Tommy gun at the first man, who toppled back into his hole. The second German tried to run but flopped to the ground and surrendered when the American fired a burst over his head. Lying on the ground the Jerry plucked his P-38 pistol from its holster and flung it into the brush. Souvenir-conscious Heidebrink, with one eye on his prisoner, retrieved the pistol and then ordered him to get his wounded comrade out of the hole into which he had fallen.
Two Germans popped out of “spider” holes and started to man a machine gun practically under his feet. Heidebrink fired his Tommy gun at the first man, who toppled back into his hole.
The two prisoners, one seriously wounded in the stomach, were marched back to the American lines while the patrol went on toward the road black from which several machine guns flashed and rifles barked. A sharp firefight followed, but with the artillery pounding away at their rear and the paratroopers dashing from tree to tree toward them from the front, pouring everything they had into the road block and its surrounding bunkers, the enemy apparently lost their will to fight and fell back, taking their wounded with them. At the road block the Americans counted seven dead, found two abandoned MG-42s and several Schmeisser machine pistols. Ahead of them they could hear the cry of mortally wounded Germans.
By now the sun was slipping behind the horizon and the woods were darkening. Up and down the line the enemy had been alerted. Streams of tracers flickered along the front while an enemy mortar coughed nervously from somewhere within Wyler. The mission had been accomplished and a platoon of the enemy had been severely mauled to boot. The operation had gone off exactly as planned without a single paratrooper receiving so much as a scratch. But best of all, Division had two prisoners and would be temporarily mollified.
All that remained was for the paratroopers to return, the predesignated signal for which was two green flares. At this point occurred the first and only slip-up of the entire afternoon’s proceedings — Lieutenant Breard could find only one flare. However, the two flanking squads properly construed the signal and a few moments later the whole patrol rendezvoused at the entrance to the mine field where a man had been left behind to act as guide.
There were some smiles around headquarters that night when Lieutenant Breard phone in his report and they meant just one thing — the “impossible” can be accomplished if you put enough English on the ball.
📚READ OF THE WEEK📚
“Division Wants Prisoners” was originally a product of Infantry Journal. It seems only appropriate for this week’s Read of the Week to feature the Harding Project. They are a team dedicated to the renaissance of Infantry and like outlets.
Great read. Even better with an accomplished mission and no casualties.