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EXCERPT 1 FROM TANK DRIVER
Very early on the morning of December 29th, we left the forest in eastern France, realizing that fighting in such cold weather would be extremely demanding. Our convoy headed north through Sedan and into Belgium.
As we entered Belgium, we found the fields covered with snow and the roads coated with ice. Vehicles with metal tracks do not maneuver well on ice, so we were sliding in all directions. After almost eighteen hours of slow, tedious travel, we finally reached our campsite in Belgium, long after dark. We performed maintenance on the tanks and then received orders to attack the enemy the following morning. Amid the sounds of big guns in the distance, I ate a supper of cold C-rations, rolled my sleeping bag out on the snow, and had a restless, frigid sleep for the seventh straight night.
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Never did I imagine at age 19 I would be driving a tank in battle.
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Following breakfast at four the morning of December 30th, we left the bivouac area and in tank convoy, headed northeast on the road to Bastogne. At the road to Morhet we turned north and moved through town to its northern edge. At this point, we left the road and moved into the fields to begin our attack on the Germans at half past seven that morning.
Fighting was intense, and as I looked through the driver’s periscope, it appeared to me that our company tanks were all going in different directions. We kept gaining ground though, and despite our seeming disorganization during a day we thought would never end, we did take our objective for that day, the town of Lavaselle. We also captured over 100 Krauts. Never did I imagine at age 19 I would be driving a tank in battle.
That night, after we had taken our assigned objectives and then some, we prepared our defense for the night and found out who was missing. Our company commander, Captain Robert L. Ameno, and his entire tank crew were missing. We later learned that all but one of the crew were killed instantly when their tank was hit by German guns. Another crew of five was also missing, as were four men in other tanks who had been killed. Several of my buddies were among those killed and missing.
The loss of Captain Ameno within a few hours of entry into battle was devastating. As company commander, he was the anchor for 140 men.
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EXCERPT 2 FROM TANK DRIVER
The next day, December 31st, in fierce battle, sometimes hand-to-hand combat, our infantry, with tank support took the village of Chenogne two times and were driven back out both times. On this, our second day in action, I saw the first dead American soldier. He was lying near our tank, frozen. How ghastly he looked. How could people kill each other in such cold blood?
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On this, our second day in action, I saw the first dead American soldier. He was lying near our tank, frozen. How ghastly he looked. How could people kill each other in such cold blood?
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New Year’s Eve night, 1944, we held the high ground overlooking Chenogne. Each evening our supply trucks would bring gasoline to us in five-gallon cans. Even on a day when we might have traveled only ten miles, the engine of the tank would have been running for twelve hours, so we would need to refuel. This required at least forty gallons of gas.
The gasoline tanks were in the rear and were accessed by standing on the rear deck over the engine. This task was the responsibility of the driver and the assistant driver. When we stood on the rear deck to pour gas into the tank, we presented a good silhouette against a light background. Somehow, the Krauts knew when the trucks arrived and we were filling the gas tanks. They gave us a real New Year’s welcome with massive artillery fireworks. Incendiary shells were exploding all around us.
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EXCERPT 3 FROM TANK DRIVER
We held our ground gains the night of January 1st. The following morning, all was quiet and we were sort of relaxing. Forgetting previous warnings, several of us had gotten out of our tanks and were standing talking when all of a sudden, the Krauts dropped a couple of small shells where we were standing.
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Hearing the shrill sound of incoming shells, I took off for the driver’s compartment and jumped in just in time to miss the 240mm rocket that scarred up the side of our tank.
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This meant that they had us in their gun sights and were measuring distance with their first shells. Hearing the shrill sound of incoming shells, I took off for the driver’s compartment and jumped in just in time to miss the 240mm rocket that scarred up the side of our tank.
Two of our men were killed by that rocket explosion. Through the periscope I saw the explosion catch one of the men to whom I had just been talking. With great force, it lifted him off the ground in a standing position and then laid him down on the ground on his back, lifeless. What a frightening sight.
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EXCERPT 4 FROM TANK DRIVER
Two of our tanks were hit and disabled just as we coiled. Two men from those tanks jumped into our tank. An assistant driver was sent out on reconnaissance and discovered a large number of German soldiers advancing on us with bazookas. We were all ordered to start our tanks at a command on the radio and get back to our own lines the best way we could. Just as we started our engines, all hell broke loose, but, by the grace of God, our tank wasn’t hit.
I was driving. It was dark. Driving at night by using the periscope when the hatch is closed requires constant direction over the intercom from the tank commander. This night the tank commander failed to give any instructions. I could barely see. The next thing I knew, our tank had dropped into the sunken foundation of a burned out house.
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Driving at night by using the periscope when the hatch is closed requires constant direction over the intercom from the tank commander. This night the tank commander failed to give any instructions.
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We all piled out of the tank and hid beside a hedgerow away from the tank while deciding how to proceed. Just then, we heard footsteps. We quickly ducked.
It turned out to be someone halfway running and crying, ‘Please don’t shoot. I am an American.’ It was one of our men, Eugene Baudouin, who was gunner in the acting company commander’s tank. His eyes had been badly burned when the turret of his tank had been hit by a German bazooka, and he could not see...
We hunkered down by the hedgerow to be certain it was safe for us to start out on foot. All looked clear, so we started toward our lines. After hiking and crawling through snow covered fields, climbing fences and fording a small river, we saw a farmhouse and heard voices. We dropped to our knees and strained our ears. We heard the expression ‘okay’ and hoped it was our troops.
Each evening at dusk, for security’s sake, the password for that night was transmitted to us person to person, never by radio. Since we had left our lines before receiving the password, we were concerned that we might not be properly recognized. In the Battle of the Bulge, the Germans had dressed many of their English-speaking soldiers in American uniforms and had infiltrated the American lines to create confusion. We were concerned that we might be mistaken for those Germans.
We spent a few minutes thinking of names that were typically American, such as Bing Crosby, Joe Louis, and Frank Sinatra. When we got within hearing distance of the guard, we called out and were answered by a stern, ‘Halt!’.
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EXCERPT 5 FROM TANK DRIVER
When we approached the next town, the lead cavalry vehicle was hit by a missile from an antitank gun. That almost always signaled that the upcoming village would be fiercely defended. Sensing this, the battalion commander ordered the medium tank companies, A, B, and C, placed around the town and then called for the artillery to blast it with incendiary projectiles.
Company B moved to the north side of the village, where we pulled into formation with all tanks on line facing what appeared to be about 100 Krauts with one antitank gun and many small weapons such as panzerfausts (German bazookas) and machine guns. They were resisting stubbornly, but we were slowly gaining control. After about fifteen minutes into the battle, I heard a loud bang. Our 76mm gun was really loud, so I thought it had just fired, but when I looked back into the turret, I saw the last foot of the turret crew going out the hatch.
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German snipers were having a field day firing at us. Their machine-gun bullets were striking the mound to our front, showering us with dirt.
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We had been hit again! The bang I heard was a panzerfaust projectile that had hit the right side of our tank hull. In an instant, I opened my hatch and fairly flew out. Our 76mm gun was positioned over the assistant driver’s hatch, so he could not get out that way. In a flash, he followed me out of the driver’s hatch.
As we flew out of the tank, the Germans started firing at us with machine guns. We jumped down behind the closest mound of earth, which happened to be in front of the tank. The other tanks, seeing us hit by the panzerfaust, backed out of the firing range of the bazookas. German snipers were having a field day firing at us. Their machine-gun bullets were striking the mound to our front, showering us with dirt. I never felt more vulnerable in my entire combat experience than at that moment.
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