Reinforced Winter 3: All Americans in the Battle of the Bulge
Reinforced Winter 3: All Americans in the Battle of the Bulge
zeroing in
Welcome to Ridgway’s Notebook, your home for airborne PME. We offer penetrating essays on military history. 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.
Endurance is the coin of “Reinforced Winter.” To date, the focus has been on the division’s endurance, explored in cold attitude — regiments and battalions, battalions and divisions, numbers and tactical symbols jogging on a map. This indefinite sweep of division principles set the foundation. And so set, the endurance of the platoon and trooper can be appreciated in its proper context. From the sweep, we will take a representative sample of intimate action — those occurring at the point of a pin — and pick them apart in turn.
Major John W. Medusky presents us with our first case. He transports us to the defensive, to the moments of anxious hours that precipitated the Christmas withdrawal. Major Medusky became a career soldier after his time as Operations Officer of the 508th PIR. He must have found something compelling for the Army officer of the future in these events described below. It was not just because of the evocative language he employed — but the time he wrote it, ten years after the event, amidst an Army trying to figure fighting in the atomic age of rockets.
Major Medusky’s stage was the April, 1955 edition of Infantry School Quarterly.1
This is what Major Medusky had to say.
This is a story of surprises! The first is a bomb, hidden in a brief case placed casually beneath a conference table. The brief case is the property of Count Felix von Stauffenberg, and at the head of the table stands Adolf Hitler.
The attempt costs Stauffenberg — and many more — their lives, but Hitler survives. Bedridden through the summer of 1944, he is free to devote himself to the grand strategy he adores. Then it is that this sick mind conceives a last gamble to save the failing Nazi empire. He has gambled so often — and won…
By September, Hitler’s plans are set for a vest surprise attack on the American line, thin-stretched across the Forest of Ardennes. White the Allies race toward the German “west wall,” Hitler gathers his last divisions. He waits…
On 16 December, American troops wake to the thunder of German guns. But not until the next day do they awake to the magnitude of Hitler’s surprise. For this is the Battle of the Bulge, biggest and costliest operation of World War II.
Hastily, SHAEF searches for reinforcements to stiffen the sagging Allied line. Only 82d and 101st Airborne Divisions are available. By December 18, the 82d Airborne, loaded on 10-ton truck trailers, has begun the cold journey to Bastogne, then north to Werbomont.
The division forms a wedge pointing southeast with its left flank along the Salm River. Across the narrow stream, it faces the 9th SS Panzer and 62d Volksgrenadier Divisions. To the south, the 2d SS Panzer Division sweeps westward, threatening to turn the 82d’s flank.
On 23 December, counterattacking Americans capture not only the strategic town of Regne, but also a bewildered regimental adjunct, stranded in his motorcycle sidecar. This most important prisoner provides the third surprise, since he carries orders for an imminent German attack. In order to straighten the 1st Army’s defenses, General Montgomery orders the 82d to withdraw to the low hills between Manhay and Trois Ponds, seven miles to its rear. It is Christmas Eve…
The fourth surprise is contrived not by a count or dictator, but by a handful of American soldiers. In a battle involving more than 30 Allied divisions, it is easy to overlook them. But the engagement at Rencheux is important — not only as a brilliant illustration of what a covering force can do. This is the true story of that operation — of three platoons and five hours.
At 1500, headquarters alerts 1st Battalion for the withdrawal. Battalion and company commanders and staff officers hurry to the rear for a quick reconnaissance. Engineers reduce the highway and railroad bridges across the Salm River to twittered iron and shattered concrete, and dot avenues of approach with mines and roadblocks. Artillery stands by to support the covering force when the enemy assault beings. Swiftly, with efficiency born of long training, the battalion prepares to withdraw.
By 1700, CP and communications personnel are on their way back. As the sky darkens, riflemen and machine gunners make up their packs and shoulder their equipment. At 2045, they pick their way back to platoon and company assembly areas. Half an hour later, the battalion is lined up on the winding, hilly road. They wait for two platoons delayed by the brilliant moonlight. Finally these platoons succeed in slipping away, and at 2135 the 1st Battalion heads westward — all except one platoon from every rifle company.
Captain Benjamin Delameter, battalion exec, commands those who remain. He sets up his CP near the western edge of the Belgian village of Rencheux. With him are two radio men and a runner from each platoon. He has his orders: hold until 0315—6 hours—360 minutes.
In a line of houses on the outskirts of Rencheux, Lt. George Lamm waits with A Company’s 2nd Platoon. Before them runs the narrow trickle of the Salm with its ruined bridges. Beyond that — the enemy.
Along the road to the left, Lt. Wheelock and the 3d Platoon of B Company hold the line of foxholes on the hillside. Still farther left, C Company’s 2d Platoon, let by Lts Stevens and Kampe, stretches across another spur of the hill. In the darkness to the right of Rencheux are elements of the 112th Infantry’s 3rd Battalion.
These elements are the covering force, the rear guard. Three platoons masquerading as a battalion — playing for time — with the safety of the division at stake.
It is a Christmas card night — with differences. There are the conventional stars and snow, but the windows of Rencheux are dark, and there are guns behind them. No chimes, no carols — instead, tense expectancy and a freezing cold that gules your fingers to your rifle barrel and hurts even through the numbness.
Crucial minutes drag by. Delameter sends a detail to destroy stores left in the red brick barracks across the road. At 2200, Lt Lamm reports the sound of vehicles and voices across the river — he thinks the Germans are trying to repair the bridges. Three enemy patrols have approached his position and pulled back in a hurry — presumably to report that the Americans are still in position… Waiting. Delameter sends his report to regiment, the strolls into town to see for himself.
To be continued (with maps) next Saturday….
Editor’s note: In the original, Medusky notes the uniqueness of the formation of the rear-guard employed with the following, instructive, note: “Due to the condition of bright moonlight, it was possible to adopt some techniques that were normally used in a daylight withdrawal, i.e. three platoons commanded by their assigned platoon leaders rather than composite platoons made up of reinforced squads from the front line area and commanded by the company executive officer.”
📚READ OF THE WEEK📚
A different perspective on butchery…
At the conclusion of this serialization, I will post the original pdf document of the issue of Infantry School Quarterly for free download.