|
Posted on 08/20/2003 12:00:15 AM PDT by SAMWolf
|
|
 are acknowledged, affirmed and commemorated.
|
| Our Mission: The FReeper Foxhole is dedicated to Veterans of our Nation's military forces and to others who are affected in their relationships with Veterans.
Where the Freeper Foxhole introduces a different veteran each Wednesday. The "ordinary" Soldier, Sailor, Airman or Marine who participated in the events in our Country's history. We hope to present events as seen through their eyes. To give you a glimpse into the life of those who sacrificed for all of us - Our Veterans.
|
|
K.I.A. Awarded D.S.C. "A" Battery 155 17th Airborne Division My Longest Day The Rhine River has served as Germany's natural western defensive barrier for centuries. By March 1945, the Rhine was the final barrier separating the Allies from the heart of Germany. Plans were underway to cross this barrier and capture the Ruhr, Germany's industrial heartland. With the capture of the Ruhr, Germany's war machine would eventually collapse.  This photo shows a more complete view of the formation, which took up slightly more than half of the west runway at the 439th TCG's airfield (A-39), Châteaudun, France. According to one observer, "no one who saw the double-tow take-offs was likely to forget them." Gliders on short tow behind the C-47 towships were on standard towropes, which were 350 ft. long. Gliders on long-tow were on 425 ft. ropes. The ropes were made of nylon, 11/16" in diameter. During takeoff, gliders became airborne first, but then had to stay low to allow the power pilot to rotate after the C-47 had its tail up. Gliders came perilously close to each other and to the ground during takeoffs, but none crashed (on takeoff). Jim Murphy and I met in an infantry replacement depot in France. Both of us were eighteen years old and discovered that we had a lot in common. We were eager volunteers for the "17th Airborne Division." We were assigned to 1st. Squad, A Battery, 155 Battalion., in Chalon, France. They had been in the Battle of the Bulge with everyone killed or wounded except the squad leader. After 2 weeks of torturous physical training, interdispursed with piling in and out of airplanes and gliders, we received our wings and a raise in pay. Within three days, we were in a marshaling area looking over maps of a little town named Wesel and a bridge that crossed the Rhine river into Germany. We squeezed into this egg crate in what seemed to be the middle of the night. At dawn's light, the view through the window was both awesome and majestic. The sky was filled with planes and gliders as far as the eye could see. Strangely, I felt like more like a spectator then a participant in this event. The ride got bumpy and I could feel my stomach turning. I fought this feeling until I saw Murphy throwing up, followed by the rest of the rest of the squad and myself. It was one big stinking mess. I was in a state of disgust with myself, but was shaken out of it when I saw these big, black puffs of smoke all around us. The realization that this was flack from enemy A.A. guns brought me to the ready; someone was trying to kill me! We jumped out of that stinking mess in what seemed a split second. The next two hours in and around the drop zone, was confusing and chaotic. As I now look back, the events flash through my mind like a kaleidoscope. The squad spread out all over the place, crawling on our bellies trying to get together. Enemy small arms fire was picking off men who dare to kneel or stand up. Mortar shells were opening up the ground here and there. Gliders were landing in every direction, tearing themselves up by hitting houses, telephone poles and power lines. C-47s were being shot down like sitting ducks as they exposed their bellies in banking maneuvers after dropping their cargo. A B-24 was 100 feet up, directly over my head, with its wings aflame and a guy pushing cargo out the door.  Seconds later, we witnessed a thunderous explosion as the plane hit the tree line. I was to see many men get killed or wounded that day. I saw a trooper who had his cheek torn open by small arms fire. He stood there, his helmet down around his neck, blood running down his face and body. With a boiling anger in his eyes, legs spread apart, he began pumping lead from a grease gun into a house 100 feet away. Within seconds he was blown away by small arms fire. Whoever he was, I will never forget him. I’d been on the ground now for over two hours; all I could think of was survival and finding someone to give me orders or direction. Finally, our squad leader got us all together. As we moved out of the drop zone, I kept hearing this snapping and popping at my ears. When I asked Sam Strain, a veteran trooper, about the noise, he informed me that a sniper had me in his sights. Every so often a shell would come lobbing in with deadly accuracy, hitting a jeep or piece of our artillery. I learned to keep my distance from them. I had always loved trees; I was now beginning to fear them. A shell hitting a tree would splinter it into a multitude of fragments, showering death all around it. Within hours, we began taking prisoners. Every so often, Sam Strain would fall back with two or three of them, and within a very short time he would rejoin us. I wondered where Sam had taken the prisoners. Cpl. John Gillespie informed me that Sam was "taking care of them", and that we could expect the same if captured. The unwritten word was that German paratroopers were taking no airborne prisoners and neither were we. My thirst for revenge became aroused as I saw our men lying helpless and dying along this bloody trail. I tried to help one of them who has been hit by a tree burst. The right side of his body had been slashed open, part of the tree still lodged in it. I yelled for a medic, I became somewhat hysteric as Cpl. Gillespie grabbed me by the arm and told me to keep moving.  At the front of the 439th Troop Carrier Group, 23 March 1945, marshaled for the next day's takeoff. Destination LZ S, east of the Rhine River. This mission was the largest combat double-tow mission in history. Airfield is A-39, Châteaudun, France. Tugs are positioned more than half-way down the west runway, and the first 10 ships, including Col. Young's Argonia at the head of the southern stream, finished their takeoff rolls in the wheat field off the end of the runway. Note the patched bomb craters. After experiencing the destruction artillery can cause, learned to hate and fear trees, I soon developed the same fear when crossing open fields. We came upon an open field and began crossing it when the fury of German artillery busted loose. The air bursts were about fifty feet overhead raining shrapnel down upon us. I saw Murphy jump into an abandoned German foxhole, and I decided to do the same. I then felt the butt of Sgt. Strudsky’s rifle on my helmet and heard his orders to "Get out and keep moving." That was the last order Sgt. Strudsky ever gave me; ten minutes later he was killed along with two of my squad members. Cpl. Gillespie was now our squad leader. We had no sooner stopped for a break when he shouted. "Okay guys, on your feet. Let's go." I soon realized that this was a special assignment when only our squad moved out to the edge of another open field and Lt. Mandress was with us. Affectionately called Mandy by his men, I would soon learn to both love him and to hate him. He had volunteered our squad to move out into the field, which was about 2 miles across, in order to test the enemy strength on the other side. As we had just lost our squad leader and two veterans, I wondered why he picked the remnants of a squad which included two rookies. Sam Strain remarked, "Any leader always wants the best with him on a mission, it makes his job easier, but its our ass." We walked out into the field at a very slow pace. I could see a farmhouse which was close to the tree line at the opposite side of the field. Mandy headed us in a direct line to it. We were midway between our lines and the farmhouse when all hell broke loose. Mortar shells came lobbing in from the German side of the field from behind the farmhouse. Seeing Murphy and Tom Burnard jump into a shell crater, I jumped in behind them. Within seconds, the rest of the squad was lying on top of us. Mandy ordered us to get up and spread out. Cpl. Gillespie asked, "Can’t we wait for our outfit to give us some covering fire first?" Sam Strain remarked "Them bastards have probably taken off!". The mortar shell bursts were getting closer and closer to our crater. It would not be long before they had us zeroed in. Without saying a word, Sam Strain crawled out of the crater. The next thing I knew, he was on his knees with a bazooka over his shoulder, aiming at the enemy tree line. Boom! It went off. Gillespie fed him two more shells. Boom! Boom! He had evidently hit something as the mortar shelling ceased. We then crawled out of the crater. Sam Strain had saved all our lives through his heroic action. I thought to myself, "It’s going to be a long run back to our lines." My heart jumped to my throat and then sank again as Mandy started running towards the farmhouse yelling, "Let's go! Let’s go!" My lungs were bursting as I tried to keep up with him.  A glider, which had forced landed 10 miles from the drop zone, came into view as we approached the farmhouse. It had taken a direct hit in its nose and was almost demolished. We ran into the farmhouse as small arms fire traced our steps. The house was occupied by a farmer and his daughter. They were tending the wounds of a trooper who had crawled in from the glider. The trooper said he thought someone might still be alive in the glider. The words were no sooner said than Sam Strain grabbed his carbine and took off towards the glider. He was no further than 100 feet when the Germans opened fire on him. He knelt down and returned their fire. About this time Mandy yelled out "Cover him!" He had no sooner yelled the warning when Sam must have been hit square between the eyes. His head jerked back and his helmet popped off behind him. Throughout the day, Sam Strain had become my role model. Now he was lying dead in a German field. I joined the rest of the squad in a cry of vengeance, emptying our rifle clips into the German tree line. As I reloaded my clip, it took all I could muster in order to keep from trembling. I peered over the windowsill into the tree line and could see figures pop up and then disappear. I followed one figure and kept him in my sights, squeezing off 3 rounds before I realized what I was doing. I could tell that I had hit him by the way he jerked and then fell. I had been firing at tree lines all day, but this was the first human being I had ever knowingly killed or wounded. Gillespie had seen the German soldier fall through his binoculars. He remarked, "Nice shooting trooper." Up until now they had referred to us as "hey you" or "sh*tface." Mandy gathered us together and said, "We have to get back to our lines." "We'll start out together, but we may have to split up and it will be every man for himself." Some of the men started grumbling , "How about the wounded trooper", "how about Sam Strain , we can’t leave them." When Gillespie asked for volunteers, the grumbling stopped. The sun had set. The plan was to try and make it back before it was too dark to see, but still not enough light for Gerry to zero in on us from the tree line. Gillespie looked at me and said, "Okay, I’m going to take off. You count to 10 and then take off after me. The rest of you guys follow Jack the same way." Mandy grabbed my arm and said "Okay, you hold it right here." I could hear the Germans open fire as Gillespie took off with the bullets kicking dust up around him. I counted to 5 and froze. Mandy let go of my arm and shouted "Go kid, go!" The squad was halfway across the field when Gillispie stopped and waved us all down. Within seconds, machine gun fire came whistling over us.
|
We wandered throughout the forest all night long. All of the outfits were bedded down for the night and we were challenged by their sentries at least six or seven times. It was close to dawn when we finally found our outfit. Sgt. Fred Bell and Cpl. Charlie Knight were the first to greet us. Charlie remarked, "We had given you bastards up for dead." He couldn’t have been closer to the truth. The sun was just rising as Murphy and I sat down looking at each other. His face was caked with dirt and I could see long streaks on it where tears had dried: a vivid trail of the miserable hours spent on his longest day.
During the next two weeks, the usual sequence of action took place. Knowing that the airborne divisions are the shock troops of the army, it’s assumed that heavy fighting against tremendous odds will take place while surrounded by the enemy. It took over 10 days of fighting until the rest of the army and armored units arrived to relieve us, or so I thought. After almost two weeks of combat, we had established an arrow head, the tip of it piercing into Germany. I thought we would begin to fall back to the tail of the arrow, as new infantry divisions moved up to the cutting edge and lead the assault. This would not be the case.
Once a man becomes hardened by being on the cutting edge of the front line for a disproportional amount of time, he becomes nothing more than a beast on the prowl. The high command, being aware of this, has now produced the tool needed to accomplish the task at hand. The vengeance and frustration of the grunt can only be taken out on the enemy. The atrocities committed by our forces more than matched those of the Germans. It’s a wonder that any of us ever returned to normal. A few months ago, I visited with Tom Burnard and Charlie Knight. I am happy to report that the heavily bearded killers are now pussy cats. Those of us who returned had enough ribbons and citations to cover our chests. But I'm sure that all of these men are proudest of the one little bronze arrowhead affixed to their E.T.O. (European Theater of Operations) ribbon, signifying that they were the first. Whenever I see the arrowhead on someone, I know that more than any other medal, he had truly earned it.
On the morning of March 24, 1945, an enormous air armada crossed the Rhein River near Wesel in western Germany. The column, two-and-a-half hours long, consisted of more than 1,500 IX Troop Carrier Command airplanes and gliders. To their left were about 1,200 RAF airplanes and gliders. The entire assemblage was supported by 880 US and RAF fighters. This was Operation Varsity, the airborne support for the US Ninth and British Second Armies' crossing of the Rhein.
The vast majority of the glider pilots were second lieutenants or flight officers. None had ever expected to serve as infantry, but they accepted that duty enthusiastically. These men were organized into four platoons, one for each of the group's squadrons. Most squad leaders were second lieutenants. They were to assist the 17th Airborne Division in securing a designated area northeast of Wesel, establish roadblocks, and make contact with British forces northeast of the town. For the first time, each of the 435th's C-47s would be towing two gliders; and, for the first time, their landing zones would not have been secured by paratroopers.
When the 435th's 144 gliders, loaded with airborne infantry and equipment, cut loose over the landing area, they came under heavy ground fire with substantial casualties among the infantry and glider crews. Once on the ground, they continued to be hit by sniper and mortar fire that had to be subdued before they could move to their assigned area of two crossroads--one that would earn the name "Burp Gun Corner." There they cleared several houses, taking a large number of prisoners before digging in for the night.
About midnight, the first attack by a German tank, supported by a large number of infantry, hit the crossroad defended by the 75th Platoon. They came under heavy fire and retreated. Thirty minutes later, a German tank and approximately 200 German infantry, supported by two 20-mm flak guns, attacked the position defended by the 77th Platoon. As soon as the enemy troops were in close range, the glider pilots of that platoon, where the attack was concentrated, opened fire. Small-arms fire took a heavy toll on enemy infantry during the hour-long battle.
Flight Officers Chester Deshurley and Albert Hurley held their positions, firing their machine guns until the tank came within fifteen yards of them, as did Flight Officer Robert Campbell, armed with a tommy gun. At that point, Flight Officer Elbert Jella severely damaged the tank with his bazooka. The retreating tank ran over one of its flak guns; the other was captured by the glider pilots.
"The Battle of Burp Gun Corner," a unique event in Air Force history, was covered by Stars and Stripes but then slipped into obscurity. In March 1995, Air Force Chief of Staff Gen. Ronald R. Fogleman learned from retired Maj. Charles Gordon of the heroic actions of these glider pilots turned infantry and directed that appropriate awards be made to those who took part in the fighting. At the 435th Troop Carrier Reunion in October 1995, Flight Officers Jella, Deshurley, Campbell, and Hurley each were awarded the Silver Star. All others who fought in the battle were awarded the Bronze Star, but many of those more than 280 men had died before their heroism was recognized.
Thanks to Maj. Charles Gordon, USAF (Ret.), author of "Crossing the Rhine With the 17th Airborne," a detailed report on this 435th Troop Carrier Group operation, and to retired Col. Phillip Rawlins, who, as a major, had commanded the 77th Troop Carrier Squadron.
John L. Frisbee
Additional Sources:
www.afa.org
www.usaaftroopcarrier.com
www.aviationnow.com
www.dragonmodelsltd.com
www.qmmuseum.lee.army.mil
www.ww2gp.org
www.chantryfineart.co.uk
www.worldwartwohrs.org
casftitle.freehosting.net
members.tripod.com/TimothyCoderre
www.grade3online.com
- The Airborne Assault on the Rhine In early February 1945, the tide of battle was such as to enable an accurate estimate as to when and where the 2nd British Army would be ready to force a crossing of the Rhine River. It was determined that the crossing would be in conjunction with an airborne operation by XVIII Airborne Corps. The sector selected for the assault was in the vicinity of Wesel, just north of the Ruhr, for 24 March 1945. Operation Varsity would be the last full scale airborne drop of World War II and the assignment went to the 17th Airborne Division with the 507th spearheading the assault dropping at the southern edge of the Diersfordter Forest, three mile northwest of Wesel. Finally, on the 24th March 1945, taking off from marshalling areas in France in nearly perfect weather, nearly 4000 aircraft from the British 6th Airborne Division and the 17th US Airborne Division dropped fighting men behind enemy lines, into Westphalia in the vicinity of Weselon which was east of the Rhine River. Their mission was to capture key points and so assist the advance of the ground troops. Having learned the lessons from the Arnhem battle, the gliders and paratroops landed close to their targets and achieved total success. Operation Varsity was the first airborne invasion over the Rhine into Germany itself. On the 25th, the Division had secured bridges over the Issel River and had entrenched itself firmly along the Issel Canal. Moving eastward, it captured Haltern, 29 March, and Munster, 2 April. The 17th entered the battle of the Ruhr Pocket, relieving the 79th Infantry Division. It crossed the Rhine-Herne Canal, 6 April, and set up a secure bridgehead for the attack on Essen. The "Pittsburgh of the Ruhr" fell, 10 April, and the industrial cities of Mulheim and Duisburg were cleared in the continuing attack. Military government duties began, 12 April, and active contact with the enemy ceased, 18 April. The Division came under the XXII Corps 24 April. It continued its occupation duties until 15 June 1945 when it returned to France for redeployment. In September, 1945, the 17th Airborne Division returned home and was disbanded. "Several slugs go through your glider fabric, sounding much like a dull drum beat, but no one is hit. Tensely, your eyes dart about as you look for a landing place, for high-tension wires, and for other gliders. Now you are down to a 100 feet, and out of the corner of your eye you see a transmission tower, but no wires. Just ahead is a pasture with barbed wire fences, and there are two gliders touching down." "Ahead a glider rolls to a stop, disgorging troops on the run. Just past it is a burning glider with smoke and flames billowing into the air. Glancing to your right, you see a small woods and approaching it, two gliders on the ground, but rolling too fast. The first hits the trees, crumpling the nose and stopping abruptly. The big tail lifts up and then drops. The second glider pilot tries desperately to ground loop, but the right wing catches a tree and his glider is drawn into the woods also, with its parts flying all over." "But you are concentrating on the approach and landing, you flare, touch down, put it up on the skids, and quickly come to a stop. You have accomplished your primary mission. But while you were still moving, a rifle slug whined through the glider, and the airborne troops started scrambling out of the doors." |
Are you making us stand in line agaaaaaaain, ms. feather? LOL!
Good morning everyone! Have a Happy Hump Day.
To allour military men and women, past and present, THANK YOU for your service to the USA!
I'll never forget.
.......FALL IN to the FReeper Foxhole! At least when ms. feather has her book signings we'll be inside in line instead of outside freeping! LOL.
Unlike someone else we know of who has book signings. Right? ROTFLOL!
That would be me, right in the center. LOL!!!!
Have a great day everyone!
Wednesday's weird warship, USS Daisy
The 54-ton screw tug Mulford, originally built in Chicago, Illinois, in the 1850s, served with the U.S. Army on the Western Rivers in 1862. She was transferred to the Navy in October of that year. Soon renamed Daisy, she served in the Mississippi Squadron until August 1865, when she was sold. Under the name Little Queen, she remained in civilian employment until about 1871.
I don't think I could have served on a ship named "Daisy" with a straight face.
I wish we weren't taking prisoners now either.
Thank you SAM for this soldier's personal story and the history.
This sounds vaguely familiar. lol.
Thanks Valin. You've given me a new research project.
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.
