JCSM Shareware Collection 1996 September

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* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * WHILE A BATTLE RAGED AT MORTAIN, I RELAXED * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * After Operation Cobra, US forces really got rolling. In addition to the breakthrough at St. Lô, there was one to the west at Avranches. On August 1, Patton's Third Army was activated and began its dash across France. Shortly before this, the 8th Infantry Regiment went into an assembly area northwest of Mortain, which is about twenty-five miles south of St. Lô. Consequently, I had a welcome respite. My letters home reflected that I took full advantage of this, even though one of the decisive battles of the war was about to take place not far away. Dear Folks, July 31, 1944, Somewhere in France I am sitting in a very comfortable chair, at a writing desk, in the home of a very hospitable French woman. She is quite the most pleasant person I have met in this country. Her husband is a prisoner of war in Germany and has been since 1939. Consequently, she is not altogether happy with the New Order under which she was forced to live. Anything she has is ours. She forces upon us eggs, butter, milk, wine, etc. At noon today we had some of the most delicious ham I have ever eaten. All this is a treat we have not been accorded for many months. As for the war itself, you can see by the papers that it is going quite well for us. By the time this letter reaches you I have no doubt that big events will have taken place. Had a very enjoyable letter form Rita Perry. She is certainly an interesting person. Her correspondence is every bit as pleasant. Love, John Dear Dad, July 31, 1944, Somewhere in France Received your letter of the 14th, my birthday. Many thanks for your good wishes. Yes, Teddy Roosevelt was in our division from some time before D-Day until his death. He was a fine officer and soldier. The entire command loved him. His advice on our landing training was excellent. He landed with the first wave on D-day, a thing we all respect him for. He landed the same time in Africa and Sicily with the 1st. He said, and I quite agree, the early waves are the safest. You speak of the 1st. There are few in this theater who won't concede that this is the outstanding division of the war, a crack unit that always takes its objective. We of the 4th feel that we are piling up a good record for ourselves on the continent. We've been at it almost without respite since D-day, with no sign of relief for some time, perhaps only when the war is over. We all feel we have earned a rest. But, we also agree that the longer and harder we fight, the sooner it will all be over. We see the end within grasping distance and wouldn't be surprised to see Germany fold up any day. I'm convinced we will finish Jerry off before the year is out. War has become our business now, and we go about it in a very professional manner, taking advantage of opportunities of luxury but living like animals when we have to. I'm very pleased that your health has progressed so well, and I look forward to hearing that you are completely recovered any day now. After all, you have spent most your life rearing a good family -and it is, and now it is your turn to enjoy the fruits of success, which I'm sure await your mere calling. Our battalion exec tells me my recommendation for promotion has gone in. This is relatively unimportant here in combat, but it should prove a good thing later on. Your son, John Dear Folks, August 7, 1944, Somewhere in France Things are going quite well, and we all have high hopes of completing our job of destroying the German army in France in the near future. However, if they want, the German army can go on fighting for some time yet. Love, John This letter demonstrated how out of the action I was. On August 7, the Germans launched a counteroffensive in the area of Mortain. This town was about four miles from where I was, and one spearhead came within about a mile. Hitler had great ambitions for this attack. He told Field Marshall Günther von Kluge to drive to the sea at Avranches and then throw the Allied forces out of France. Von Kluge had more limited hopes, which were to hold the Allied forces long enough to establish a new defensive line. Although the German units succeeded in capturing Mortain and moving somewhat further to the west, our forces soon brought the counteroffensive to a halt and threw it back. Shortly thereafter, Hitler, who suspected von Kluge of involvement in the July 20 plot, summoned him to Berlin. Instead of going, he wrote a letter to Hitler pleading with him to find a way out of the senseless war. On August 19, he killed himself. I am basing this on research, since I have absolutely no recollection of the attack on Mortain. This is all the more remarkable, since the 4th Division Artillery played a large role in halting the German attack, by destroying a German column of vehicles the afternoon of August 7. Also, the 12th Regiment was committed to support the 30th Division and took heavy casualties in intensive combat. The battalion I was with, however, was not involved in this fighting. A key reason for the defeat of this attack, as so much of what happened during the war, was that Allied commanders were following German military communications through the intercept program Ultra. Hence, the attack on Mortain came as no surprise. GEORGE DE MEYERS AND I LIVE IT UP Once the German counteroffensive was repulsed, the 4th Division took a breather for several weeks. I took full advantage of the situation to relax, have fun, and think about the future. Dear Folks, August 13, 1944, Somewhere in France Lt. George De Meyers and I - he's one of the forward observers who works with me - are living in the home of an elderly French couple. Yesterday we both took our section swimming in a nearby lake. Then we had a duck and chicken dinner cooked by the madam and several of her neighbors. After the dinner, George and I went to visit some of the neighbors. The couple in question lives just across the road. The husband is Russian, the wife French, her sister a peroxide blonde. We had quite a time talking to them. Their home is in Paris, and they told us a great deal about living conditions there. The chocolate we gave them was the first in four years. Everything costs a small fortune. The Germans have taken everything to send back to the Reich. You might send stationary in your next package. Include in it shaving cream, some Ox Blood shoe polish, some Persona blades, and the type candy you sent before. Another thing that keeps and always goes well is a box of assorted nuts. I'll enclose my promotion notice, in case you're interested. Must go now, I have a three o'clock date for cocktails! Love, John Dear Dad, August 14, 1944, Somewhere in France So you recommend that I return home from Europe as soon as possible after the war is over. This sounds good to me. To be sure, there are many strings attached. It seems there are going to be many of us kept for occupation troops - TIME says 2,000,000. On the other hand, if one returns quickly to the States without a discharge, he is likely to find himself in the Pacific - something I am none too eager to see happen. One war is enough. I'm quite willing, as all of us are, to see some of the others who have not been in combat to finish off Japan. Twenty-four is not old, but when one adds the completion of a war and college, it is difficult to believe that all will be finished before the very late twenties. And it may not be apparent to you, but I can see that with all the girls I have as correspondents, there is none I know really well - all my best friends being now married. Nevertheless, these factors not withstanding, if they ship us to the Pacific, we shall simply growl a bit and go. But I hope not. Love, John GEORGE AND I GET A TWENTY-FOUR PASS Dear Folks, August 17, 1944, Somewhere in France Boy, what a twenty-four hour pass! Best I've ever had. Didn't know you could have so much fun in twenty-four hours. Let me tell you about it. Lt. George De Meyers and I got a day off from noon to noon, a command car complete with driver, a bottle of Scotch apiece, and permission to go anywhere in France we wanted. Since Paris is not yet quite in our hands, we went to a large city about fifty miles from where we were. (Footnote: the town was Rennes.) Now don't start worrying that I've taken to drinking. You'll see the need for the whisky later. On our way to the town we stopped in a small village at a sidewalk cafe for a bite to eat. There we got acquainted with two very pleasant ladies. One's husband is Dr. Colas-Pelletier of ---, the city to which we were going. I don't remember her friend's name. Both were very attractive and very interesting to talk to. The doctor's wife speaks English - learned it in Shanghai - but her friend didn't. We talked for several hours, interspersed with freely flowing wine and sandwiches. The summation of the conversation was that they did not like the Germans. When we were leaving, I asked for the check. The waitress said that the madame had put it on her bill. But, no, we wouldn't hear of it. But we did, because any attempt to pay was politely and firmly refused. Off to a good start, we continued on toward ---. Nearing the city, we saw a hospital. And where there is a hospital, there are nurses. Sooo - we went into the area. It was right in the middle of a racetrack and consisted of tents. We wandered up to a group of pyramidal tents, where we saw some nurses. We started talking to them, introduced ourselves, and explained that we were looking for dates to go into --- for the evening. Really, they'd just love to, but they went on duty at seven. Why didn't we wait for the day shift to come off? We would. One snippy nurse came out of her tent and said, "Don't you all know that this is off limits to you?" George gave her the best answer yet. "Listen, girl, all I hear is off limits. I helped take the ground this hospital is located on, and I'll go where I please." May not be good discipline, but it expresses our attitude toward many of the silly and harassing rules they have in the rear areas. Well, we invited ourselves to their mess for supper and went back to wait for the day shift to come off duty. In the meantime, one of the girls heard us mention our whisky, and we had an excellent crowd around in no time. Clever girls they are too. One said, "I don't want to drink out here. Slip it under the tent, and I'll drink it inside." I did. But George, being wiser than I, smelled a rat. He went around inside the tent. And there they were pouring part of our whisky into their canteen. Well, to make a long story short, we got two dates and went into the city. There we went - at the doctor's wife's recommendation - to a place called Ricci's Bar. Now the bar wasn't much, but you should have seen Ricci. She was as attractive a girl as I've seen in many a day. I offered her a drink, but she said, "No thank you. I never drink." Imagine. She says it makes her ill. I danced several numbers with her, and she was very good. She said it was the first time she had danced in four years. The Germans wouldn't let them. Anne, the nurse with me, said to Ricci, in a stage whisper, "Ricci, where's the little girl's room?" "The what?" "The little girl's room." "I do not understand, this little girl's room." George shouted, "She means the toilet." "Oh, the toilet, right this way." So we had a big time. They drank our whisky, a non-existent item for them, and we drank their champagne - excellent. The evening was marred with but one incident. Our driver came in and said that a lieutenant colonel from the M.P.'s was outside and wanted to see us. I went outside, reported to the colonel, and asked what the difficulty was. "Do you know this town is off limits to troops?" "I do not, sir. There were no signs up." "Well, its is. And besides your vehicle doesn't have a dispatch." Well, a dispatch is something we used in garrison and hadn't used in combat since D-day. It sounded almost too ridiculous to be true. I could easily have written one out myself but just hadn't thought of doing so. The colonel turned to the driver. "How long have you been driving?" "Three years, sir." "Don't you know you have to have a dispatch?" That was too much. I interrupted with, "Colonel, I don't want to cause any trouble, but this vehicle landed on D-day and for two months has been a tactical vehicle. And the driver had no way of knowing he needed a dispatch today." Well, the colonel started being a bit more reasonable and suggested I send the vehicle out of town and let it come back and pick me up. This I did. Such things are always difficult, but it is hard to explain how you feel when something like this happens on your first time off in some time. Well, c'est la guerre. Nevertheless, the whole pass was a huge success, and we returned to our unit on time and quite ready for duty. Mother, I've not succeeded in locating Brown's outfit. I doubt that the details of his death would make a picture his mother would want to see; they never do. She can be assured that as an infantry officer he was doing the most dangerous and difficult job any soldier does or can do. It is a post that can be fulfilled by - unfortunately -only our best men. Like many others, he probably died in the Cherbourg campaign, the most difficult and vital part of our entire operation to date. It is regrettable our sons must go like this, but, they go at it willingly and with full recognition of the cost involved. It is not easy for them or the mothers. But if you could see what a conquering nation has done to France, you would realize that the term "liberation armies" is not misplaced. For it is impossible to describe the appreciation all these people express for the work we are doing. It is not a shallow cheering, but a sincere thanks for the deliverance from the oppression under which they have lived for so many years, where so many of them were about to despair. My love to all, John VETERAN'S LONGING FOR OTHERS TO UNDERSTAND HIS EXPERIENCES Dear Dad, August 20, 1944, Somewhere in France Quite by accident I picked up a LIFE magazine and read the story of a war's veteran's return to civilian life. As this depicts, the process no doubt is not easy. In England I talked to many 1st Division veterans of Africa and Sicily. Many of them felt that not enough recognition was given by civilians to the real hardships they had undergone. And it irritated them that when they gave accounts of some of their experiences, the listener soon lost interest and made it obvious. This of course is inevitable; a person who has not been in combat can never even partially grasp its difficulty. I even find that in my own battalion. Those who work at the rear and have not been forward are not at all cognizant of the difficulties the infantry has. Then, we cannot be amazed at a similar reaction three thousand miles away by people untouched by war other than remotely. This is not wholly the fault of the "unexperienced." It is also partially the fault of the soldier who considers his actions to be heroic, or more heroic than they are. Rather than being silent, unless called upon, he becomes irritated at their lack of interest. Both could cooperate. The listener could listen occasionally; he would hear some interesting stories. The teller could cut out the grim part and accent the many funny stories that are bound to occur. Already I have had some lessons in this, in a brief visit to the rear. There simply is no response from the nurses, doctors and officers one talks to. We try to forget this business, but we go on talking about it, to an uninterested audience. It's a strange situation. John * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * During the period in which these letters were written, Allied forces were dashing across France. In the process, they surrounded a large German force in what became known as the Falaise Gap. The destruction there was horrendous, and I was glad only to read about it. Eisenhower was anxious to capture some ports in addition to Cherbourg, which had only become operable shortly before the breakout. Some forces, therefore, moved west into Brittany, to capture Brest and other ports. On August 15, Allied forces landed in southern France. After a rest, the 4th Division moved across France, in the wake of the carnage left by Patton's armored divisions. August 25 found us just south of Paris. Early that morning, Sgt. Schroeder shook me and said, "Wake up, Capt. Ausland, we are going to take Paris."