My Cousin Dave
The Battle of the Bulge WWII
My father’s first cousin was his very best friend. Both very close the same age, they were as close as brothers. They remained so up until Dave passed away due to an inoperable brain tumor in the 1980s. During WWII, the two cousins joined as soon as they were of age. My father went into the Army Air Corps and Dave went into the 101st Airborne where he served from D-Day until VE Day having made all of the jumps that the 101st did in WWII. Like most veterans who had seen more of their share of war, Dave didn’t talk about it much. In fact, he hardly talked about it at all. Growing up, every time I would ask about his experiences, he would just shrug it off. I wouldn’t press the issue for I could tell he was obviously uncomfortable about his memories. It wasn’t until I was home on leave from the Army myself setting on his front porch after a few beers, that he finally opened up some. I guess I had somehow changed in his mind from not only his younger cousin but also a fellow veteran. Like most of us, he tended to cling to the more pleasant memories while trying to forget the worse ones. Even so, it was a heck of a story, which I now put to paper obviously filling in some of the gaps, however the story is pretty much just as Dave told me.
On December 18th 1944, Daves platoon had been advancing towards Bastonqe to their new ordered destination . The week had been one of living in trenches and foxholes at night and the cold hungry men covered in filth near exhaustion. Their relief had come up that afternoon bringing with them hot coffee. The men were happy that night laughing and joking as they drank the coffee. They had plenty to be happy about. Their orders were to pull back the next day to a small village a few kilometers to the east., where they were to have a well-deserved rest. Despite their replacements sharing the watch, the men use to so little sleep and excited about the prospect of rest without being on the constant move didn’t sleep well. The next morning, December 19th a cold foggy morning, they grabbed their gear and sat off for the village in two files lining both sides of the mud road. It wasn’t a long walk compared to the previous days and within a short time they entered the village where their CO released them to find quarters.
Dave’s platoon found a vacant two-story house with part of the second story open to the weather having taken damage from the war. There was no luck finding any food but there was a fireplace, most of the house had a roof, and to their elation there was a real bathtub on the second floor. They had no idea why a bathtub of all things would be on the second floor of a house with no running water or how it got there, but there it was and it wasn’t good to look a gift horse in the mouth. Dividing the tasks gathering firewood and water, to save time it wasn’t long they had a roaring fire in the fireplace and water on the boil so they could take warm baths. It was a bit much to expect a hot bath seeing how cold it was outside. It was hard work hauling the water upstairs but they did so with no complaints. A hot bath was a rare thing and the chance not to be overlooked. They drew from a helmet the order of bath taking. First of course meant fresh water but it also meant pressure from the others to hurry up. Dave wanting to get some sleep, traded for last. He didn’t mind the dirty water as long as he could take his time. He found a spot not too far from the fire. Warm and relaxed for the first time in days went quickly to sleep. Despite still being danger close to the front lines, the men were still relaxed because there was someone between them and the Germans which meant at least some warning if something was up.
Dave didn’t know how long he had been sleeping other than it sure didn’t feel long enough when he was shaken awake. It was his turn in the tub. Long use to being in combat areas, a soldier knows to always take his gear with him even if its just to another room. You never know when you may need it on very short notice and that’s not the time to go looking for your gear. Dave leaned his rifle against the wall, dropped his pack, and stripped piling his clothes in the floor. Firing up a cigar, he settled into the now luke warm bath and relaxed. The last of his squad to have a turn in the bath, Dave puffed slowly on his cigar and dozed in and out of sleep. Dave was shocked into full awake as the house began shaking as if in an Earth Quake and to the screaming of the men in his squad. He jumped from the bath and ran to the window facing the street down below. There just below his window its turret sticking up out of the fog was a German Panzer tank. He could make out German infantry surrounding the tank as well as hear gunshots coming from down the street where some of the other guys had billeted.
He didn’t wait for anymore detail. His platoon didn’t have the equipment to fight tanks and he just knew they all were done for if they didn’t get away. He grabbed his helmet and M1. Without stopping he threw the helmet on his head and darted down the stairs naked as a Jaybird. As he ran down the steps, he looked into the living room where the fire was. There was nobody there but the back door was wide open. As he darted out the open door, to his shock he saw nothing but an open field about a hundred yards wide between him and the forest. He didn’t slow down but started running across the open field like the Devil was after him. It was then from behind him, he heard shouts in German and the sound of Mauser rifles being cocked. Glancing over his shoulder he saw two German soldiers in their winter great coats raising their rifles to their shoulders. He figured he was dead for sure but kept running. Two shots rang out from behind him but determined to make the tree line Dave just kept running. It was then that he heard something he will never forget the rest of his life. It was laughter. The Germans were laughing so hard at the naked American running naked across the field, they not only missed with their rifles but missed a second time. Dave made the tree line and just kept running circling SW towards what he hoped was friendly forces. Dave reached his lines by that afternoon still naked and cold. He was convinced him not stopping running kept him from a fate from the weather worse than the Germans. By that night clothed and with hot coffee in him, he was in Bastonge.
That’s how my cousin Dave went into battle Dec. 19th, 1944 or what we now know as the first day for the 101st participation in the “Rundstedt Offensive” which Winston Churchill later coined “The Battle of the Bulge.”
I would press Dave many times about what happened next but he would always decline to talk about it. I was taken by the fact he had given me dates and a rough geography so later researched what had happened to the 101st during that time and tried to put much of the story together. Being a combat soldier Dave himself probably didn’t really know at the time what really happened.
On the 18th of December, the 101st was indeed advancing towards Bastonge. The actual surprise German offensive had started on Dec. 16th another foggy morning. The main column of the 101st entered Bastonqe at 9AM on the morning of the 19th ahead of schedule. I can only surmise the 101st original destination being a town called Werbomont, north of Bastonge, that Dave’s CO thought their village would be behind their lines. Instead, the 101st main column didn’t make it to Werbromont but stopped at Bastonge. Actually even that was a fluke or later called luck as the column detoured to Bastonqe due to a traffic snarl up. It was upon arrival the column learned that was to be their new destination. I can now only imagine these men thinking they were resting behind the lines were actually in front of the lines in the direct path of the German advance and that was why there was no warning.
The 101st lines was hit from the northeast the night of the 19th by four German divisions two panzer and two Infantry divisions. It is very likely the soldiers that took my naked cousin in giving him clothing and hot coffee met the brunt of the German advance and some of the bloodiest fighting the 101st saw in the war on the night of the 19th. I’ve often wondered if the actual men who took him in sharing that coffee with him had survived the night.
If you follow the timing of Dave’s story, It’s very possible as Dave ran naked SW towards his lines, four German Divisions were following right behind him and that hard run had saved him from far worse than frost bite. Dave did tell me he hooked back up with his platoon the night of the 19th but would just shake his head when I would ask how many of them made it to Bastonge. I would never press the question for I will always remember that look on his face when he shook his head.
August 18th 2008 4:43 AM
