WWII History 2016-10

W-WWII Museum FP Oct2016.qxp_FP 7/28/16 2:55 PM Page 1

W-PoulinAntiques FP Oct2016.qxp_FP 8/9/16 10:04 AM Page 1

W-Oct16 TOC_W-Jul06 TOC 4 8/10/16 8:33 AM Page 4

WWII HISTORY

Contents

Columns 06 Editorial Controversy swirls around the iconic Iwo Jima photo.

08 Ordnance Igor Sikorsky demonstrated the practicality of the helicopter to the U.S. Army in 1940.

12 Profiles Squadron leader Alan George led aircraft of the Royal New Zealand Air Force in combat.

16 Insight A crafty captain worked to free his cargo ship after its seizure by the Germans on the high seas.

22 Top Secret Analysis raises questions concerning the long-held beliefs surrounding the sinking of the Bismarck.

66 Books

October 2016

Features 28

Three Days Behind Enemy Lines An American infantry sergeant survived an ordeal during the opening chapter of the Battle of the Bulge.

Japan could have thrown the British Royal Navy out of the Indian Ocean in early 1942 but became overextended and squandered an easy victory.

70 Simulation Gaming Fury Software digs into classic hex-based World War II strategy, and we check in on Driven Arts’ successfully crowdfunded shooter.

By Jay Marquart

Witness to the Opening Salvos The .50-caliber machine guns of the battleship USS Pennsylvania unloaded 65,000 rounds of ammunition on December 7, 1941. By Brian H. Wright

42

Escape at the

Bulge GEILENKIRCHEN

Attack on the Siegfried Line Fallschirmjäger

Japanese parachute forces mounted an assault on the island of Sumatra soon after Pearl Harbor.

Airborne Attack on Sumatra

at Maleme 52 Mishap A series of mistakes cost the British dearly in the defense of a critical airfield during the German offensive against the island of Crete. By Jon Diamond

the Geilenkirchen Salient 58 Cracking American and British forces coordinated an effort to eliminate a German threat to the U.S. Ninth Army. By Nathan N. Prefer

4

BEHIND ENEMY LINES

Deadly Dash Forward By Gene Eric Salecker

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

Cover: Private Nicholas Pappas of the 9th Infantry Division advances toward a pillbox along the Siegfried Line.

Curtis 02313

36

See story page 58.

Fight on Crete

+

PEARL HARBOR ATTACK, WWII HELICOPTERS, GERMAN BATTLESHIP BISMARK, BOOK & GAME REVIEWS, AND MORE!

Photo: National Archives OCTOBER 2016

RETAILER: DISPLAY UNTIL OCT. 31

WWII History (ISSN 1539-5456) is published six times yearly in February, April, June, August, October, and December by Sovereign Media, 6731 Whittier Ave., Suite A-100, McLean, VA 22101. (703) 964-0361. Periodical postage paid at McLean, VA, and additional mailing offices. WWII History, Volume 15, Number 6 © 2016 by Sovereign Media Company, Inc., all rights reserved. Copyrights to stories and illustrations are the property of their creators. The contents of this publication may not be reproduced in whole or in part without consent of the copyright owner. Subscription services, back issues, and information: (800) 219-1187 or write to WWII History Circulation, WWII History, P.O. Box 1644, Williamsport, PA 17703. Single copies: $5.99, plus $3 for postage. Yearly subscription in U.S.A.: $19.95; Canada and Overseas: $31.95 (U.S.). Editorial Office: Send editorial mail to WWII History, 6731 Whittier Ave., Suite A-100, McLean, VA 22101. WWII History welcomes editorial submissions but assumes no responsibility for the loss or damage of unsolicited material. Material to be returned should be accompanied by a self-addressed, stamped envelope. We suggest that you send a self-addressed, stamped envelope for a copy of our author’s guidelines. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to WWII History, P.O. Box 1644, Williamsport, PA 17703.

W-SunmanDirect FP Oct2016.qxp_FP 8/3/16 3:39 PM Page 1

W-Oct16 Editorial_W-Jul06 Letters 8/9/16 11:01 AM Page 6

Editor ial Controversy swirls around the iconic Iwo Jima photo. PERHAPS NO OTHER IMAGE OF AMERICANS AT WAR EVOKES SUCH PATRIOTIC fervor as that of six servicemen raising the flag on the summit of 550-foot Mount Suribachi during the battle for the Pacific island of Iwo Jima. Associated Press photographer Joe Rosenthal captured the historic moment on February 23, 1945, four days into the fight that lasted more than a month and resulted in more than 25,000 U.S. casualties. Flashed around the world, the photograph became an instant sensation, and the names of the men in it became household words in the United States. Three of them, Marines Harlon Block, Michael Strank, and Franklin Sousley, lost their lives before Iwo Jima was secured. The three others, Marines Ira Hayes and Rene Gagnon and Navy corpsman John Bradley, became celebrities, made numerous public appearances, and were special participants in war bond drives in the waning months of World War II. For decades, the identities of these men were accepted as presented. Then, in 2014, two historians, Stephen Foley of Wexford, Ireland, and Eric Krelle of Omaha, Nebraska, began to raise doubts that Bradley is actually one of the men in the photo. Based on photographic evidence, they have concluded that the individual is actually a Marine named Harold Henry Schultz of Detroit, Michigan. Bradley, whose son James wrote the best-selling book Flags of Our Fathers that was later made into a major motion picture directed by Clint Eastwood, died in 1994. Schultz died in 1995. Based on perusal of available photographs taken on the same day, Krelle and Foley do raise some doubt—enough to prompt the U.S. Marine Corps to launch an investigation. During their review, the historians recognized several apparent discrepancies. The man who has been identified as Bradley for more than 70 years wears a cartridge belt with ammunition pouches and a pair of wire cutters hanging from it. Bradley was a corpsman and would probably not have been armed with an M1 rifle or carbine. Other photos show him wearing a pistol belt without ammunition pouches. Wire cutters would probably not have been issued to medical personnel. In addition, Bradley wears cuffed pants in several photos taken the day of the flag raising, while the man in the iconic picture is wearing uncuffed pants. The individual in the famous photo is also wearing a cap beneath his helmet; its bill is visible. No other photos of Bradley taken that day show him wearing a cap. In 2014, Krelle commented to the Omaha World-Herald newspaper, “People can hold onto what they have always known in the past. But to me, the photos are the truth.” In May of this year, the Marine Corps issued a statement, which read in part, “The Marine Corps is examining information provided by a private organization related [to] Joe Rosenthal’s Associated Press photo of the second flag raising on Iwo Jima…. Rosenthal’s photo captured a single moment in the 36-day battle during which more than 6,500 U.S. servicemen made the ultimate sacrifice for our Nation and it is representative of the more than 70,000 U.S. Marines, Sailors, Soldiers and Coast Guardsmen that took part in the battle. We are humbled by the service and sacrifice of all who fought on Iwo Jima.” The Marines have not released an expected date for the conclusion of their inquiry. In an interview with the Associated Press, James Bradley said that he was shocked to learn of the investigation. “I’m interested in facts and truths, so that’s fine,” he remarked, “but I don’t know what’s happening.” In the coming months, no doubt, other experts will review the photographic evidence of the famed flag raising along with any other information available to obtain positive identification of the sixth man. Will history be rewritten? Michael E. Haskew

6

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

W-Oct16 Editorial_W-Jul06 Letters 8/9/16 11:01 AM Page 7

WWII HISTORY Volume 15

Number 6

CARL A. GNAM, JR.

Editorial Director, Founder

MICHAEL E. HASKEW Editor

LAURA CLEVELAND Managing Editor

SAMANTHA DETULLEO Art Director

KEVIN M. HYMEL

Research Director

CONTRIBUTORS: Mark Albertson, Mark Carlson, Jon Diamond, Joseph Luster, Jay Marquart, Christopher Miskimon, Bruce Petty, Nathan N. Prefer, Earl Rickard, Gene Earl Salecker, Brian H. Wright

ADVERTISING OFFICE: BEN BOYLES Advertising Manager (570) 322-7848, ext. 110 [email protected] Advertising Sales

LINDA GALLIHER (570) 322-7848, ext. 160 [email protected]

MARK HINTZ

Chief Executive Officer

ROBIN LEE

Bookkeeper

TERRI COATES Subscription Customer Service [email protected] (570) 322-7848, ext. 164

CURTIS CIRCULATION COMPANY WORLDWIDE DISTRIBUTION SOVEREIGN MEDIA COMPANY, INC. 6731 Whittier Avenue, Suite A-100 McLean, VA 22101-4554

SUBSCRIPTION CUSTOMER SERVICE AND BUSINESS OFFICE: 2406 Reach Road Williamsport, PA 17701

(800) 219-1187 PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.

www.WarfareHistoryNetwork.com

OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

7

W-Oct16 Ordnance_Layout 1 8/9/16 10:09 AM Page 8

Ordnance

I By Mark Albertson I

U.S. Air Force

ways. The potential for amphibious operations was augured with the addition of floats, enabling both landings and takeoffs from land and water. A passenger entered and exited the hovering XR-4 by use of a rope ladder, offering a glimpse into rotary wing rescues. The future of battle zone transport was forecast when Sikorsky’s design hoisted a payload of more than 700 pounds. The demonstration was followed by a discussion on possible roles and missions for the helicopter such as medical evacuation, light transport of personnel and stores, aerial artillery fire direction, aerial photography, observation and reconnaissance, rescue duties, wire laying, and other tasks. The successful April demonstration set the stage for a record-breaking flight by a rotary wing aircraft. The Army wanted the XR-4 flown from the Sikorsky plant in Stratford, Connecticut, to Wright Field in Dayton. Up to this point, the XR-4 had been hardly a mile from the assembly line in Stratford. Morris made a number of short hops to make sure the helicopter was mechanically sound, and on May 13, 1942, he lifted off. Factory personnel tailed Morris in a car, offering tools, spare parts, and assistance. However, Morris made it to Dayton, touching down on May 17 after covering more than 760 miles in five days. Total elapsed flight time was 16 hours and 10 minutes. The longest stretch was in Ohio, from Mansfield to Springfield, 92 miles flown in one hour and 50 minutes. FolIgor Sikorsky demonstrated the practicality of the lowing this impressive demonstration, the helicopter to the U.S. Army in 1940. Army agreed to accept delivery on May 20. The Army ordered 15 XR-4 models for development. Another 14 XR-4s followed in ON SEPTEMBER 14, 1939, IGOR SIKORSKY ATTAINED STABILITY AND CONTROL January 1943. Later that same year a producwith the initial flight of an open cockpit test bed known as the VS-300. Thus, Sikorsky introduced tion contract for 100 R-4Bs was issued by the to the world the first working single rotor helicopter and fostered the basic design for rotary wing U.S. Army Air Forces. Lieutenant Colonel Frank Gregory of the aircraft that has endured to the present day. On May 26, 1940, Sikorsky arrived at Wright Field in Dayton, Ohio. He showed a film on the Army Air Forces was an avid proponent of the VS-300 to an audience from the Army Air Corps’ Material Division. The pitch to get Washington helicopter. He is reputed to have advised Igor to open its wallet worked. Funds, though, were limited since the Army was already invested in the Sikorsky to change the tri-rotor tail assembly XR-1 from the Platt-LePage Aircraft Company. However, the Platt-LePage offering was plagued by on the VS-316 to a single rotor. On May 6 and controllability issues. Nevertheless, Sikorsky submitted a proposal to produce another design, the 7, 1943, Lt. Col. Gregory endeavored to prove that the helicopter could operate from a ship. VS-316, for $50,000. The Army agreed, and a contract was signed on January 10, 1941. A tanker, the Bunker Hill, was The original VS-316 design featured three tail rotors, a vertical rotor mounted Lieutenant Carter Hamon, anchored in Long Island Sound, in the center flanked by horizontal rotors. The design change to a single vertical standing at left, poses a couple of miles east of Stratford rotor added $10,000 to the original contract. Approximate development costs for with the grateful British Point Light. Operating to and the follow-on experimental XR-4 amounted to some $200,000. commandos he rescued from a 78-foot long section of the The first flight of the XR-4 was on January 14, 1942. In an effort to demonstrate from behind Japanese lines controllability, test pilot Les Morris auto-rotated the platform. Then on April 20, in Burma. The Sikorsky R-4 tanker’s deck, Gregory took off and landed 23 times, proving the 1942, the XR-4 was flown before an audience representing a variety of interests. helicopter he piloted helicopter could operate from The impressive demonstration included the XR-4’s vertical capabilities, such as during the operation is in the background. ships at sea. ascents and descents, and the ability to hover as well as flying backward and side-

Saga of the Eggbeater

8

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

W-1stStreet Computer Oct2016.qxp_FP 7/28/16 3:21 PM Page 1

W-Oct16 Ordnance_Layout 1 8/9/16 10:09 AM Page 10

Sikorsky

ABOVE: Helicopter pioneer Igor Sikorsky took to the air in his tethered VS-300 helicopter on September 14, 1939. Sikorsky’s test flight program proved that helicopters were efficient and controllable in flight. BELOW: Commander Frank Erickson pilots a Sikorsky HNS-1 helicopter with British Royal Air Force markings in early January 1944. This photo was taken around the time that Erickson delivered lifesaving blood plasma to survivors of the destroyer USS Turner.

Navy History and Heritage Command

The Coast Guard, too, performed yeoman service in the development of the helicopter, and Commander Frank A. Erickson proved an eager advocate, believing that the potential inherent in the helicopter afforded it advantages over fixed-wing aircraft when tracking or shadowing submarines. Helicopters could hover, operate vertically and horizontally, and drop sonar buoys or depth charges. Escort vessels or merchant ships could carry helicopters, supplementing escort carriers assigned to convoy protection. Erickson also saw in the helicopter the agent of mercy for the wounded. And he was able to prove this supposition in a Sikorsky HNS-1 (R-4). At 0615 hours, January 3, 1944, the destroyer USS Turner (DD-648), while riding at anchor in Ambrose Channel off Sandy 10

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

Hook, New Jersey, was rocked by an explosion near the number 2 5-inch magazine and handling room. Fires raged forward, and the tincan became an inferno. Many men were killed, including the Turner’s skipper, Lt. Cmdr. Henry S. Wygant. Then a second detonation, this time near the number 1 5-inch magazine and handling room, sent flames racing through the stricken ship. Oily plumes of smoke roiled off Sandy Hook. In minutes 20mm ready ammunition began to explode, sending tracers skyward. The destroyer settled into the shallows at 0827, taking 15 officers and 138 sailors to a watery grave. Just two officers and 163 bluejackets remained, many horribly burned. Stricken sailors were rushed to the hospital in Sandy Hook. Owing to the nature of the injuries, supplies of plasma quickly ran low. Enter Lieutenant Frank A. Erickson, who

secured two cases of plasma to the floats of his HNS-1 and lifted off. Through gusty winds and driving snow, the intrepid Coast Guardsman weaved his way through the concrete canyons of New York City. He reached Sandy Hook and touched down. Erickson saved many a sailor in what is reputed to be the first lifesaving mission flown by a helicopter. But the Coast Guard cannot take all the bows. The first rotary wing combat rescue in history goes to the Army Air Forces, April 2627, 1944. On April 21, 1944, Technical Sergeant Ed Hladovcak crashed his L-1 Vigilant observation plane in Burma, miles behind Japanese lines. Aboard were three British commandos, all of whom were wounded. A prowling L-5 Sentinel liaison aircraft overflew the crash site, but there was no place set down for a rescue. Sergeant Hladovcak and his charges melted into the jungle. Japanese soldiers swarmed the wreck. They found no bodies and began to beat the bushes for survivors. Hladovcak and the commandos held their collective breath as Japanese soldiers poked and prodded the undergrowth. Later in the day, an L-5 from the 1st Air Commandos pinpointed the quarry, and the pilot dropped a note: “Move up mountain. Japanese nearby.” Another message drop told of a sandbar on a nearby river, which had been secured by British commandos and was large enough for an L-5 to set down and pick up the stranded men. The condition of the wounded worsened, which meant a trek through the jungle was out of the question. So Colonel Philip Cochran, famed commanding officer of the 1st Air Commandos, made a decision. “Send the eggbeater in!” Earlier that month, four helicopters, together with crews and mechanics, arrived in Lalaghat, India, attached to the 1st Air Commandos. Within weeks, owing to mechanical deficiencies and crashes, only one was still flying. This left Lieutenant Carter Harmon as the sole rotary wing pilot flying the only helicopter available. Harmon was ordered to take off from Lalaghat and head for Taro in northern Burma, a trek of 600 miles. This was 500 miles beyond the range of the R-4. Harmon acquired four Jerry cans of fuel, giving him another 21 gallons. Harmon lifted off for the first leg of the journey. The eggbeater passed its first real test by clearing a 5,000-foot-high mountain range. Between refueling stops, it took Harmon another 24 hours to reach Taro. Harmon was ordered to proceed another 125

W-Oct16 Ordnance_Layout 1 8/9/16 10:10 AM Page 11

Library of Congress

ABOVE: This cutaway drawing of the Sikorsky R-4 reveals the mechanics of this early generation helicopter. RIGHT: Mechanics assemble YR-4B helicopters somewhere in the China-Burma-India Theater. Although the helicopter was just entering service during World War II, the performance of the rotary aircraft made a distinct impression on those who saw it in action.

miles south to a temporary landing strip known as Aberdeen, a 1st Air Commando base behind Japanese lines. To give Harmon an edge, mechanics scrounged a gas tank from an L-5 and installed it in the R-4. Harmon took off, arriving at Aberdeen on the morning of the 25th. The plan called for Harmon to leave Aberdeen and rendezvous with the waiting L5 at the sandbar. From there, Harmon would have to extricate the unfortunates and return to the sandbar for the L-5 to fly them out. Harmon would have to traverse a jungle infested with Japanese, attempting an untried concept in an inhospitable environment in an aircraft that, at this juncture, was suspect at best. Harmon could lift just one passenger at a time. Burma’s excessive heat and humidity so limited the YR4B that Harmon could barely hover with only himself on board. Harmon employed a technique familiar to many of today’s helicopter pilots who have survived similar situations. Jerking the vertical lift controls caused the helicopter to pop momentarily in the air. Nosing the aircraft forward quickly but gently from the top of this pop would probably provide sufficient forward speed and airlift to fly away if he did not crash first. Harmon’s “field expedient” takeoff was successful. Harmon plucked one of three commandos and shuttled him to the waiting Stinson. Then he went back for another. He had no trouble retrieving his second passenger, but

National Archives

upon arriving at the landing zone there was a sickening “clunk” followed by a smell that indicated trouble. The engine was overheating. Harmon set the R-4 down. Sikorsky’s creation needed to cool. Harmon and the eggbeater spent the night on the sandbar. A low ceiling greeted the new day. Otherwise, the weather was favorable. Harmon picked up the remaining commando, dropped him at the rendezvous, and then started back for the last man, Ed Hladovcak. The downed airman heard the approach of his taxi to freedom. Harmon cleared the trees and began to descend. Suddenly, uniforms broke from the tree line. Harmon waved frantically and shouted. Japanese troops were closing in. Harmon touched down. Hladovcak jumped in. The Sikorsky lifted heavily from the jungle floor. The enemy soldiers swarmed beneath the chopper. Then the R-4 seemed to heave as if ready to convulse. The two men held their collective breath. There was no clunk, no aroma of disaster. Both rescuer and rescued were on their way. Harmon flew Hladovcak back to Aberdeen. There was a tragi-comic irony to Hladovcak’s rescue. The troops overrunning the landing

zone were not Japanese, but Chindits braving the jungle in a vain attempt to deliver those who had been trapped. Harmon’s feat set in motion a trend. Other rescues followed as the helicopter was beginning to prove itself on the battlefield, gaining converts and generating interest in that ungainly aircraft Phil Cochran had so winsomely called the eggbeater. But the helicopter’s case would be fueled, in part, with the advent of a weapon that would change the face of war, the atomic bomb. In July 1946, Operation Crossroads, the atomic tests at Bikini Atoll began. Among those in attendance was Lt. Gen. Roy S. Geiger, commander of the Fleet Marine Force in the Pacific. Geiger was an experienced amphibious assault officer, having commanded the III Amphibious Corps. Geiger did not believe that the United States would retain its monopoly on the atomic bomb. On August 21, 1946, he wrote to General Alexander Vandergrift, Commandant of the Marine Corps: “Since our probable future enemy will be in possession of this weapon, it is my opinion that a complete review and study of our concept of amphibious operations will have to be made.... It is quite evident that a small number of atomic bombs could destroy an expeditionary force as now organized, embarked and landed.... I cannot visualize another landing such as was executed at Normandy or Okinawa.” This communication led to a special board headed by Maj. Gen. Lemeul C. Shepherd, Jr. The objective was to research the effect of atomic weapons on amphibious operations. The result was the concept of vertical assault relying on rotary wing aircraft as an alternative to moving troops from ship to shore in amphibious operations. The Army, too, would follow suit. During the Korean War, the helicopter was used to move stores and supplies, evacuate wounded, and shuttle troops to and from the battlefront. In 1944, Lieutenant Carter Harmon showed the potential of the helicopter once again in the steaming jungles of Burma. Twenty years later, the helicopter would go on to become the poster child for the American effort in Vietnam. Sikorsky’s R-4 set the basic design cue for helicopters to the present day. Beginning with the cockpit, plexiglass was featured throughout. Doors with roll-up windows provided entry and exit from each side of the cockpit. Seating was side by side, but the pilot was positioned on the right. When the R-4 was used for training, the instructor moved to the left seat while the student pilot sat on the right side. Continued on page 74 OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

11

W-Oct16 Profiles_Layout 1 8/9/16 10:34 AM Page 12

Profiles

I By Bruce Petty I

Imperial War Museum

slow, with poor altitude capabilities, and easy to shoot down. His first mission as a plane commander in a Wellington bomber was more than a little exciting. On a mission in October 1941, one of his engines was shot out. However, he forced his crippled bomber on, dropped his bombload, and made it back to England, where he made a forced landing short of his base. For this, he was awarded the Distinguished Flying Medal. Later, on a mission over Essen, Germany, in August 1942, George was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross for bringing his wounded aircraft back to base after dropping his bombload over the target. RAF No. 139 Squadron formed in June 1943, flying an all-wood aircraft called the De Havilland Mosquito. The Mosquito was a twoengine, British-built aircraft, designed and built by Charles de Havilland. It was an aircraft the RAF originally showed no interest in. Likewise, other aircraft designers ridiculed it as unworkable. De Havilland was told, “Nobody makes aircraft out of wood anymore.” However, in time and with England desperate for anything that could fly, de Havilland won over the skepA formation of twin-engined Vickers Wellington Mk. I bombers of the British Royal Air Force flies toward a tics. By the war’s end the Mosquito proved to be distant target. Squadron Leader Alan George piloted a Vickers Wellington during his service with the RAF. one of the most versatile and best loved aircraft of World War II. Unlike the larger bombers of the day, the Mosquito was originally designed to carry no armament and only two crewmen, the pilot and the navigator-observer. Its main defense was its speed. At almost 400 miles per hour, it could Squadron Leader Alan George outrun any German fighter except the later jets. led aircraft of the Royal New In fact, while on one Pathfinder mission, George’s Mosquito was attacked from behind Zealand Air Force in combat. by a Messerschmitt Me-262 jet fighter. He avoided destruction by diving away at the last minute as the bullets and the jet ALAN GEORGE WAS BORN IN 1918 AND WAS FOURTH-GENERATION shot menacingly over him. The New Zealander. His great grandparents arrived in New Plymouth in 1841 from Mosquito’s speed and rate of Cornwall, England, aboard the 506-ton ship Oriental. They were among the early climb had everything to do with arrivals to first settle in the area and hack a living out of what was then native bush. the Rolls Royce Merlin engines The Royal New Zealand Air Force (RNZAF) was formed in 1923, and more that were installed in it. It had one than 90,000 men and women have served in it since then. It reached its peak of the best, if not the best, liquidstrength in 1944 with 45,000 individuals serving. Those flying in Royal Air Force cooled aircraft engines to come (RAF) bomber squadrons during World War II initially had to fly 25 sorties. This out of the war. was later raised to 28 and then 30. Those who survived their first tours were given George flew 73 missions over ground time, usually as instructors, before heading back into combat for another Germany and France during the tour of at least 20 sorties. Pathfinder crews, on the other hand, being volunteers, war, including the last mission of were required to do up to 40 sorties, and some did many more than that. Pathfindthe war in Europe against the ers, as the name suggests, went in ahead of the main bomber force and lit up the New Zealander Alan German port city of Kiel. By the targets with incendiaries. George flew numerous end of the war, he had been decGeorge, along with a number of other New Zealand airmen, set sail for England missions over Naziorated twice, had a private intervia Fiji and Canada and then sailed in a convoy out of Halifax, Nova Scotia, in April occupied Europe and view with Sir Arthur “Bomber” 1941. He was first assigned to RAF No. 115 Squadron as a second pilot and then served as an instructor training new pilots. Harris, the controversial leader of soon after as first pilot flying a Vickers Wellington bomber, a plane he described as

Bomber Command Pathfinder

12

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

W-Macromark Lipogen Oct2016.qxp_FP 7/28/16 2:46 PM Page 1

W-Oct16 Profiles_Layout 1 8/9/16 10:34 AM Page 14

Both: Imperial War Museum

TOP: A target indicator, shown at left in this photo, illuminates the Schoneburg District of the Nazi capital of Berlin during a raid by 27 De Havilland Mosquito bombers conducted in September 1944. BELOW: Carrying two 500-pound bombs under its wings, a Mosquito bomber of the Royal New Zealand Air Force is shown in flight in February 1944.

Bomber Command, and was invited to Buckingham Palace to meet the King of England. As a volunteer member of a Pathfinder squadron, RAF No. 139, he was one of the lucky few to survive the war. Four out of five members of his squadron did not. In fact, Bomber Command, which numbered roughly 125,000, suffered 55,500 killed, more than 8,000 wounded, and another 9,800 taken as prisoners of war. Like most survivors of the war, George married and raised a family. He and his wife of 65 years raised nine children. After 16 years in the military, George left the RNZAF to take over the family farm outside of Mania in South Taranaki on North Island and farmed well into his 80s. At the age of 95, he still lived in the house built in 1912 that his family bought in 1920. He passed away only recently. Until his last days, his memories were vivid, and he shared them with the author some time ago. “If you look in the phone book in New Plymouth you will find about 40 Georges; we are all related. I am the product of a second mar14

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

riage. My father lost his first wife, and he married my mother. He had two grown sons when they had me. I was the only product of the marriage. My father was a carpenter and I was two years old when he bought this farm in 1920. As a child, I was always captivated by anything that had to do with airplanes. “I used to spend hours as a kid watching birds fly, and I used to try jumping off heights, trying to fly. Anything I could find out about airplanes captivated me. I took any spending money I had and went to the aero club at Hawera and bought a ride; I was so captivated by flight. Ian Keith was one of my instructors; and another one was a man called Dan Lethbridge. Then came the war, and I immediately enlisted in the RNZAF. “One thing my father did for me—he gave me a good education—and in the early stages of the war you had to be educated up to a certain standard, so I was one of the first to be accepted into the New Zealand Air Force. I did my training in New Zealand. I went first to Levin for ground training, and then New Plymouth for

elementary training in Bell Block, a grass field north of New Plymouth. I was always determined to prove myself. I was always trying to excel. That drove me, and as a result I was the first in my class to solo; and all through my flying career that motivated me. Most of my compatriots are dead. Do you know how many people we lost in Bomber Command? I’ll tell you: We lost 55,500 killed. “We were the first boatload from New Zealand to embark for England after the war started. We left Auckland in April 1941 aboard the Awatea. It was lost later in the war in the Mediterranean. It was a beautiful ship. We went from Auckland to Fiji to Vancouver. At this stage, America was not in the war. From Vancouver, we went on the Canadian Pacific train to Halifax; five days and five nights to cross Canada. You can imagine how that impressed me, coming from this small country. “We arrived in Halifax, and there we were stuck for a fortnight. The Hood, if you know your history—a British battleship [actually a battlecruiser], which was old and underarmed—was sunk by the German battleship Bismarck. The Bismarck was out there, so we had to wait until the British Navy got her. We were then rushed onboard a ship, went up to Iceland, went onto another ship, and arrived in Scotland. The ship we boarded at Halifax was an armed merchant cruiser. The ship we boarded in Iceland was a converted Irish Channel steamer. It was a hell ship, infested with rats. “In Scotland, we went by train to Bournemouth. We were the first New Zealand airmen to arrive there after the war started. I was with another New Zealander, Jock Hunter from Hawera. He didn’t last very long; he was flying a Sterling [Short Sterling bomber]—blew up at takeoff. “We went up to a place called Lossiemouth, Scotland; it was a big flight training school for Bomber Command. Okay, so training finished, and I will always remember the instructor saying, ‘Okay, your training is finished. You are now going to an operational squadron. You have been flying to the west over the Atlantic. Now you are going to fly to the east over Germany, and people will be firing at you. You are going to hear gunshot. This will be where your first test of manhood comes in. Some of you will die. This is where you are going to find out what you are made of.’ “I was posted to 115 Squadron—Wellingtons. I did my first operations as a second pilot. You had to do some ops as a second pilot. Then when you had proven your worth you were made a captain or first pilot. I was lucky. Like I said, I was always trying to excel. I was driven.

W-Oct16 Profiles_Layout 1 8/9/16 10:34 AM Page 15

I had it built into me that I had to prove myself. “I was given my own crew after only several second-pilot trips. On my first mission I was given a target outside of Paris—Poissy, to bomb a motor car works. My Wellington was unusual in that it had Merlin motors. Most Wellingtons had Bristol motors. We caught some antiaircraft fire in one of the motors, and it caught on fire. We had to force land on the south coast of England. “The Wellingtons, with a full load of bombs, were lucky to get above 12,000 feet. Usually you were bloody lucky to get above 10,000 feet, and that was like shooting ducks for the Germans. With the Mosquito, we could get a load of bombs up to 30,000 feet. A Mosquito could carry one bomb of 4,000 pounds and take it to 30,000 feet in 20 minutes. It was the most remarkable plane ever built, and that absolutely had to do with the Rolls Royce Merlin engine! “That was just the start, and then I progressed through a series of raids until I got to my 33rd mission. You had to complete 30 missions and then you went on rest, usually as an instructor. Then, after a period as an instructor, you were brought back to a squadron to do another series of missions. That theoretically gave you a total of 50 missions, if you lived. We lost planes every night we went out. “Anyway, I finished my first tour and became an instructor and instructed for quite a while. I then put in an application to go to RAF Staff College; I wanted a bit more education. My application was approved. It was a class for senior officers. I wasn’t a senior officer, but I got approval because I had distinguished myself in operations. That was several months of work. Then having graduated, I was suddenly sent back to New Zealand because the flight training schools there had expanded and they were training new pilots right, left, and center. At one camp outside of Blenheim they went on strike. They weren’t allowed to call it a mutiny. That was 1943. It was a ground training camp. I had to straighten the place out, which I did. I kicked a few blokes out and instituted some discipline. I found out what the cause was. It was inefficiency, dirty cookhouse, bad rations.... I straightened the place out without punishing anybody. Then I told everybody, “Okay, obey the rules or you’re in the army!” “That was all that was needed. And as a reward, I was sent straight back to England, which is what I wanted. By this time, the Americans were in the war, and they wanted pilots to go to the Pacific. I didn’t want to do this. I wanted to go back to the Royal Air Force, and my wish was granted. “I went back to England, and this is where it becomes interesting. I went into a Mosquito

Standing in front of their Mosquito bomber, Squadron Leader Alan George, left, and navigator-observer Vivian Broad smile for a photographer. Alan George completed dozens of Pathfinder missions with Broad flying alongside.

squadron and volunteered for Pathfinders. Pathfinders were an elite section of the Royal Air Force. These were men who had distinguished themselves in a first tour. You had to have a first tour to be accepted, and the first thing you had to do was make out your will. The commanding officer told us four out of five of you will die, so go and make your will. If you weren’t ready to accept that you went back to Main Force. “The squadron I went to was No. 139. Our main objective was Berlin. That was [British Prime Minister Winston] Churchill’s idea. The Germans had bombed the hell out of London, and Hitler boasted that Berlin would never be touched. It was farther away and difficult to hit. It was the most highly defended place in the whole of Germany, and Churchill gave instructions to “Bomber” Harris that Berlin had to be bombed! No. 139 Squadron was one of the squadrons given the task of bombing Berlin, so we went night after night. We did two nights, and then had a night off; two nights on, one night off. We were set a target of bombing Berlin for 50 nights in succession—this one squadron. “As Pathfinders, we had to go in and mark the targets with incendiaries. We got to 30 missions, and we were stopped. It was a forced rest because of the stress and the losses we were taking. It was a terrible task. I did, I think it was 20 trips. That is the story of 139 Squadron. We bombed Berlin night after night; two nights on, one night off. That is how that book, Night After Night, was written. “We used to talk about the following in the

crew room: We all had the same fear. We didn’t want to know when we were going on our last mission. It was a horrible thought, “Oh, only one more mission. Will we make it?” “By this time I was up to over 70 ops. I did 40 Pathfinder trips in that squadron—night after night, night after bloody night. Two on, one off. “Vivian Broad went with me on all of my missions, all 73. He was my wireless operator on Wellingtons and my navigator-observer in Mosquitos. We became good friends. He was an Englishman, and I went home with him on leave and stayed at his parents’ house. While I was in New Zealand, Vivian used his time to train as a navigator-observer, and when I volunteered for Pathfinders so did he. So we stayed together throughout the war. He and his wife went to the Mexico Olympics in 1968, and then they came to New Zealand to visit us. He was about 10 years older than me. He’s dead now. “I remember the commander called us in and said, ‘Right, this will be the last time you fly. Get home tonight and you will be through the war.’ And that was the night before the Russians entered Berlin—April 20, 1945. Thankfully, we didn’t lose any planes that night! “They called us in again the next day and said, ‘Sorry boys, but one more.’ “One more! We had to go to Kiel! After that my flying days were over. Of all the New Zealand pilots I went over to England with, only two or three survived the war. It’s not good to go there. Death was so prevalent; we lived for the day. We never planned for the future; it was unlucky. Tomorrow never came. Every morning you would see a new face at the breakfast table and think, ‘Is my turn coming?’ “The last thing you did before you went on a raid was make sure your bed was made and that you had written your last letters home, and you looked at your bed as you went out the door and wondered, ‘Will I sleep in it tonight?’ “The North Sea has thousands of aircrew in it. They fell in it on the way home after being shot to bloody ribbons. We would lose dozens every night. “I flew 73 missions. Very few pilots flew more than that. I was shot down, chased by German fighters.... I had all sorts of mishaps, but I am still alive. Because of my war experiences I developed a very hard exterior. You had to. It was almost as if death was inevitable, and your one wish was that it would be quick.” Bruce Petty is the author of five books, four of which concern World War II in the Pacific. His latest is New Zealand in the Pacific War. He is a resident of New Plymouth, New Zealand. OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

15

W-Oct16 Insight_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:47 AM Page 16

Insight

I By Earl Rickard I

All photos from Yankee Skipper, by Joseph Gainard

at 25 knots, was the German pocket battleship Deutschland. Gainard slowed his ship and prayed the German captain would recognize the freighter as American; no other nation owned Hog Island ships. Closer inspection would also reveal the American flag painted on the ship’s side. Yet for Gainard and his crew, staring down the barrels of 11-inch guns, the sooner recognition came the better. A collective sigh of relief came from the Americans when the Deutschland swung her guns inboard. When the German ship slowed, two signal flag messages flapped on the yardarms: “YOU MUST NOT USE YOUR RADIO,” and “I AM GOING TO SEND YOU A BOAT.” She pulled up close to the American’s port quarter and lowered a small boat. Gainard went below and replaced his dungarees and sweater with his full dress uniform. Looking down from the bridge ladder, Gainard watched his first mate greet the boardCrewmen of the cargo ship City of Flint display a Nazi flag that was flown over their vessel while it was held ing officer, who was followed by two officers by the Germans. The government of Norway stepped in and compelled the Germans to release the ship. and four or five armed sailors. All the Germans wore the uniform of the Kriegsmarine. When the three officers reached the top of the ladder, Gainard saluted then held out his hand and said, “Glad to have you aboard.” The senior officer shook the captain’s hand and said, “Captain, I am sorry to cause you inconvenience, but this is A crafty captain worked to free war. I must ask to see your papers.” his cargo ship after its seizure by In the mate’s room on the bridge, Gainard showed the German officer the ship’s manifest: the Germans on the high seas. lumber, wax, asphalt, apples, canned goods, tractors, oil, grease, and general cargo. The grim-faced German officer said, “This is bad. JOSEPH A. GAINARD, CAPTAIN OF THE AMERICAN FREIGHTER CITY OF FLINT, You have 20,000 drums of oil on board. What hated to threaten his crew with piracy; the men were only reacting as any sailors would to the seizure kind of oil is it? “ Gainard told him it was lubricating oil. of their ship by a foreign power. They wanted to take it back. Gainard wanted his ship back too, “Under the laws of my country, but the German boarding party was armed with automatic weapons and grenades. “the German said, “you are guilty The 49-year-old Gainard was armed only with his knowledge of international law of carrying contraband to the and his common sense. The City of Flint’s cargo, according to the Germans, conenemy. “ tained contraband items. The vague areas and technicalities of international neuGainard reminded the German trality laws put interpretation up for argument. The Germans won the argument; that the Flint was a U.S. ship, and they had the guns. under American law the Flint’s Determined to take his ship back without loss of life, Gainard, a calm, intuitive, cargo was not contraband. resourceful veteran Merchant Marine captain, played a four-week game of cat and Despite Gainard’s protests, the mouse with his German captors. Gainard knew of the crew’s plots and that the GerDeutschland’s captain ordered a mans did too. So the captain told his crew that any challenge to the German authorprize crew to sail the City of Flint ity “would probably be an act of piracy in any court in the world. “ to Germany. On October 9, 1939, the 4,963-ton freighter City of Flint, six days and 1,500 Captain Joseph Gainard, The Germans also asked miles out of New York harbor, steamed through another cloudy day on the North skipper of the City of Flint, Gainard if he could take on 38 Atlantic bound for Great Britain. At 3:42 PM, First Mate Warren “Dusty” Rhoads, manipulated and bluffed English prisoners picked up after peering through his binoculars, said, “Is it a cloud?” Captain Gainard raised his the Germans at every turn the sinking of the British merbinoculars to the horizon. “I don’t know,” he answered, “but it certainly is moving to keep his ship from being chantman Stonegate. Gainard faster than the others if it is a cloud.” Gradually the “cloud” transformed into a ship unlawfully seized by the Kriegsmarine. agreed, and soon a boat came with a battery of 11-inch guns pointing at the little freighter. The warship, steaming

North Atlantic Odyssey

16

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

W-1stStreet Jacuzzi Oct2016.qxp_FP 7/28/16 3:21 PM Page 1

W-Oct16 Insight_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:47 AM Page 18

Emblazoned with its name and the ownership of the United States Lines, the City of Flint was photographed in the Chesapeake Bay on its return to the United States.

Photographed by a crewman aboard the City of Flint, the powerful German pocket battleship Deutschland is shown in this photo. Mounting 11-inch guns, the German raider was a major threat to Allied shipping.

over carrying 18 armed German sailors and the Englishmen. Lieutenant Hans Pushbach, an experienced merchant officer and Imperial Navy officer, led the prize crew. Gainard recalled in his biography Yankee Skipper, “Four of the crew were radio operators, but something had happened to the Flint’s radio between the time the Deutschland was sighted and the time the prize crew came aboard. The German radio operators evidently didn’t know enough about radios to fix it; consequently, they were unable at any time to receive messages from Germany.” Speaking passable English, Pushbach told the crew, “You are now bound for Germany. My soldiers will be a military guard and you will get all your orders from your Captain. You must obey these. If there is any interference or refusal I will kill you.” The sidearms and grenades each German carried and the machine gun they brought aboard backed up Pushbach’s threat. The German then apologized for having to take these actions but reminded the crew that his country was at war and, “Whether we like it or not we must do certain things we would not do ordinarily.” After the Deutschland vanished into the North Atlantic mists, Captain Gainard stated his view of the situation to Pushbach: “The war18

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

ship is gone. How far we don’t know. It may be just over the horizon. But you are not going to use the radio. You’re not going to sink the ship because the last thing your country wants is a war with mine. My crew must not do anything which would cause you to want to sink the ship. I know my country doesn’t want a war. So here we are. You can’t move without my crew, so therefore I must be in command of this ship.” Pushbach said, “Fine!” The German officer traced a course on the North Atlantic chart that skirted north of the Orkney Islands. Gainard shook his head and said, “It’s too dangerous.” He explained that neither of their governments would want the ship to encounter any belligerent warships that might force the Germans to defend themselves. The American drew a more northerly course. Pushbach not only agreed but told Gainard the Deutschland’s captain suggested the same course. Gainard later wrote, “He knew he could trust me on routine matters and he knew that no American on board would do the things they would like to do and on several occasions planned to do.” Gainard also knew well the neutrality laws and the international rules of the sea and hoped to rid himself of his captors peacefully within those rules before the ship

could reach Germany. Now the double cat and mouse game began, the Flint trying to avoid confrontation with Allied ships and her captain trying to outsmart Pushbach. Dodging icebergs, the City of Flint steamed well north of the Orkneys. The daily tedium of plowing through the cold, dark North Atlantic waters led to increased grumbling by the crew. Two German guards always maintained a watch on the bridge deck while others slept there. Pushbach slept in the chief officer’s room near the wheelhouse. All the Germans brandished revolvers in plain sight and carried grenades in their pockets. “Despite the strain,’ remembered Gainard, “we were peaceful enough on the surface.” Some of the Germans fraternized with his crew. Gainard assumed they understood English but pretended otherwise. The Germans would watch card games in the crew’s quarters and listen to the conversations, then report to Pushbach. Pushbach would then come to Gainard and say, “Well, tonight I think we have monkey business.” Gainard counted nine plots. Most plots fell apart for reasons that Gainard patiently explained to the crew. The captain continually reminded his crew about the weapons, the grenades, and that “the Germans—under international law—had a legal right to be on the ship.” Piracy charges might await the crew if they challenged Pushbach and his men. Besides, Gainard told them, their overt actions could upset American State Department efforts on the Flint’s behalf. But did the State Department know what had happened to the City of Flint? Did anyone? When the Flint’s scheduled October 12 position report to the United States Lines failed to materialize, the company (operating the ship under charter) began to worry. Soon both the line’s office in England and the State Department tried but failed to contact the ship. The German radiomen failed to fix the ship’s radio, and Pushbach barred the ship’s crew from the radio room. The shortwave radio sets on board picked up English, American, and German newscasts, but the newscasts mentioned nothing about the City of Flint. The crew sensed that the world neither knew nor cared about their disappearance. While Gainard stopped all violent attempts to take back the ship, the wise old captain began to work on his own plot. When Gainard calculated that the ship was approaching land, he and Chief Engineer Logan played out a little drama for the benefit of Lieutenant Pushbach. Logan came to the bridge and said, “Captain, our water is running short, what with all these extra hands on board. How soon do we reach port?”

W-Macromark Prostate Oct2016.qxp_FP 7/28/16 2:49 PM Page 1

W-Oct16 Insight_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:47 AM Page 20

Gainard told the chief engineer that he did not know, but he suggested that Logan sound the tanks. After enough time elapsed to sound the tanks, the chief engineer returned to report sufficient water for only a few more days. Both men knew the ship had plenty of water, and Gainard knew international law. “We had a perfect right to put in anywhere for water,” Gainard later wrote, “but, if we put in when we didn’t need it we would be subject to internment and the prize crew removed.” By the time the ship reached the Norwegian coast, Pushbach had become so worried about the water he decided to stop at the nearest port. Eleven days after the boarding, flying the German merchant flag and with all the American flag markings painted out by Puschbach’s men, the City of Flint sailed into the darkened harbor of Tromsoe in neutral Norway. Unfortunately for the Americans, the Norwegians watered the ship without checking the full tank the Flint had yet to tap. The Norwegian Neutrality Control and Customs officers refused to allow any Germans or Americans to go ashore in violation of Norway’s neutrality laws. The captured British sailors, however, left the ship for internment in Norway. The Norwegians ordered the Flint out of their territorial waters, and they ordered the Germans to repaint the American flag on the ship’s side. “Lieutenant Pushbach was on the spot,” remembered Gainard. “He had no direct orders from his government, our radio failure prevented that. I was just as worried as he was. We both wanted to keep the Flint safe…. He wanted to get her to Germany…. I wanted to get her free.” The two men, hoping to evade both British and German warships and a fierce southeasterly storm, chose a northerly route skirting the Norwegian coast and heading toward Russian waters. Soon after setting this course, a German radioman complained of stomach pains that suggested appendicitis. The Flint would have to put into a Russian port quickly or the sailor would die. At this early stage of the war, with the ink barely dry on the Hitler-Stalin Pact of August 1939, Pushbach decided to take a chance on Germany’s new ally, the Soviet Union. On Monday, October 23, the City of Flint sailed into Murmansk harbor flying a makeshift German naval ensign. Meanwhile, the stop at Tromsoe had alerted the world to the international situation taking place north of the Arctic Circle. On October 23, the United States Maritime Commission, the Flint’s owner, issued an official statement announcing the Flint’s seizure on October 9 and the ship’s subsequent odyssey across the 20

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

The German prize crew that boarded and took control of the City of Flint stands in ranks during its internment at Kongsvinger Fortress, Norway. Lieutenant Hans Pushback is seen in the photograph at right.

Atlantic. The commission sought “further information concerning the seizure. “Later that evening, the U.S. State Department sent queries about the ship to the American consul in Oslo and to the embassy in Moscow. When the Russians boarded the ship, their doctor diagnosed appendicitis for the German sailor; the Russian naval port officer ordered internment for the prize crew. The boarding officer checked Gainard‘s papers and declared the ship free. The Russian told Gainard he could leave or stay as he liked. The Russian then asked, “How soon can you leave?” Desiring to overhaul one of his boilers following such a long trip, Gainard thought immediate travel unnecessary. Gainard reasoned, “We were a free neutral ship in a supposedly neutral country.” The Russian told Gainard that the Flint could sail “whenever you are ready, after your papers are returned by the customs men.” The first night in port Gainard gave the customs men a message for Laurence Steinhardt, the American ambassador in Moscow. Gainard heard nothing from the embassy the next day, so he gave the Russians the message again. Again nothing. Gainard then asked to go ashore and phone the ambassador. The customs men told him, “Tomorrow.” Tomorrow never came. After three days of tomorrows, Gainard signaled the Russian neutrality patrol boat stationed astern that he wanted a boat to go ashore. The reply was signaled, “We cannot supply a boat and you must not use your own boat.” “We were just as much isolated,” Gainard felt, “as if we had been hung up on a reef in the South Pacific.”

Speculation about the strength of the SovietGerman pact had been rampant since the Flint’s arrival in Murmansk. The American government inquired about the crew’s health and safety and requested the ship’s return. Soviet authorities in Moscow stalled Ambassador Steinhardt at every turn. President Franklin D. Roosevelt, at his weekly press conference, stated his hope for the ship’s safe return. “Such a request,” wrote the New York Times, “would test the status of Soviet neutrality.” The world knew more about the beleaguered ship than the Flint’s men did. Listening to their shortwave radios, the shocked crew heard the famous American newscaster Lowell Thomas tell the world that the Germans were back aboard. Twenty-five minutes later, the Russian port officer returned with the German prize crew. He told Gainard to sail within 24 hours. Obviously, someone higher in the Soviet government had reversed the original decision. Captain Gainard, hearing nothing from the American ambassador, weighed anchor. After five days as a free ship, the Flint sailed out of Murmansk harbor for the ultimate destination of Germany, her captors back aboard, and the Soviet customs boat training its deck gun on the American freighter. With Pushbach on the bridge of his legal prize, Gainard had to keep the Flint away from British warships; therefore, he sailed within Norway’s three-mile limit, dodging in and out of the fjords. Suddenly, through the mist a small warship appeared—the Norwegian destroyer Stegg. Steaming to starboard, the Stegg failed to alarm Gainard. “I thought it to be friendly from

W-Oct16 Insight_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:47 AM Page 21

the position it took—outboard instead of ahead of us.” Stegg escorted the Flint into Tromsoe harbor to meet the neutrality patrol. After issuance of the proper permits, the Flint sailed from Tromsoe escorted by Stegg and another destroyer, Aegger. That night a Norwegian minelayer, Olaf Tryggvason, joined the little flotilla. Gainard discerned that the minelayer’s captain was superior in rank to the other captains. “From his actions and the actions of the destroyers I knew they were friendly,” remembered Gainard. The ships continued south through the fjords. In the darkness of the following night, a searchlight beam flashed through the frigid air and lit the Flint’s icy deck. The Olaf countered with her searchlight and revealed a British cruiser. The Norwegians sent a blinker message in English: “We are operating in Norwegian territorial waters.” The cruiser blinked back: “Sorry. We do not wish to intrude but we would have liked to include your friend in our convoy.” Spurned by the Norwegians, the British ship and three consorts sailed out into the Norwegian Sea. When the Flint began to run out of Norwegian waters, Gainard’s hopes for freedom rapidly diminished. Therefore, when a crewman came to the captain for treatment of scraped

shins, Gainard asked for a doctor from the Olaf. “The man was not sick,” Gainard recalled. “At no time was this man sick enough to require a doctor, but Lieutenant Pushbach either did not know that, or chose to ignore it.” The Olaf’s doctor and a line officer came aboard. While the doctor cared for the crewman, Gainard escorted the officer around the ship including the Germans’ quarters. “I wanted him to see everything,” remembered Gainard. Getting underway again, the ship headed south and soon passed close aboard the German cargo ship Schwaben. From the German ship’s bridge, someone yelled in German, “Do not pass Haugesund. Anchor there and see the consul.” Gainard speculated that the German government wanted to give Pushbach orders. Certainly, Berlin knew about the British cruiser lurking in these waters. Pushbach went over Gainard’s head for the first time on the voyage when the German asked Chief Engineer Logan whether the Flint could have “engine trouble.” Logan answered, “We can’t have engine trouble or any other kind of trouble unless the old man says so.” Gainard knew that if he claimed engine trouble, a valid excuse for entering port, the German prize crew could not be removed and his last chance at freedom for the Flint would be lost.

Gainard decided to appeal to the German’s Teutonic superiority: “Surely Norway, a small neutral nation, would not care to antagonize your country…. You have been ordered to anchor, by all means anchor.” Pushbach answered, “I will anchor.” The wily American replied, “Do you order me to come to anchor?” “Yes, we must anchor.” The Flint dropped her hook in Haugesund harbor on the evening of November 3. Puschbach tried to convince the Norwegian authorities that the ship stopped because of the lightly injured sailor, a valid excuse under international neutrality laws. Gainard thought the extent of the injury made it a poor excuse. Nightfall saw the Olaf Tryggvason anchor close aboard the Flint. Gainard thought, “Something was up.” When midnight approached so did a boarding party of 30 armed sailors from the Olaf. “It was slick, the way they did it,” remembered Gainard. “They simply woke the Germans up, took away their artillery and told them they had lost their rights.” Norwegian neutrality laws forbade “anchoring without legal cause.” The Norwegian in charge, Captain Dynsor, told Gainard, “In a little while I’ll have some good news.” Gainard smiled and said, “I don’t Continued on page 73

OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

21

W-Oct16 Top Secret_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:55 AM Page 22

Top Secret

I By Mark Carlson I

U.S. Army Art Collection

alone do not warrant top billing. The development of heavy warships since 1906 when HMS Dreadnought, the first all big gun ship, was launched was a steady climb in size and power. But it was most often a constant duel between size, weight of armor, speed, and gun caliber. During World War I, the old tactic of battleships steaming in parallel lines battering away at one another ended with the epic Battle of Jutland. In four separate encounters on May 31, 1916, two huge fleets met off Danish Jutland in the North Sea. When it was over, three British U.S. Navy History and Heritage Command

Sinking the Bismarck raises questions concerning the Myth Analysis long-held beliefs surrounding the sinking of the Nazi super-battleship. IN 1960 TWENTIETH CENTURY FOX RELEASED THE FILM SINK THE BISMARCK! Based on C.S. Forrester’s bestselling book The Last Nine Days of the Bismarck, the documentarystyle film tells a gripping and reasonably factual account of the most famous sea chase in history. In an early scene, German Fleet Admiral Günther Lütjens addresses the crew of the battleship as they head out to the Atlantic. With the typically bellicose posturing usually portrayed in American war films, Lütjens proclaims, “Officers and men of the Bismarck! This is the fleet commander. I can now tell you that we are going out into the North Atlantic to attack the British convoys. We are going to sink their ships until they no longer dare to let them sail! It is true we are only two ships [Bismarck was sailing with the heavy cruiser Prinz Eugen]. But the world has never seen such ships! We are sailing in the largest, the most powerful battleship afloat, superior to anything in the British Navy! We are faster, we are unsinkable!” From that point on, the viewer is left with little doubt of the German warship’s invincibility and power. Yet this is not true. Bear in mind that the movie was made in 1959, a full 18 years after the Bismarck had been sunk. This has become the Bismarck legend. But most legends have no more validity than what one accepts at face value. Like many other historical icons, Bismarck’s power has been greatly magnified and distorted. What was once believe about Bismarck is pure fiction. In fact, rather than the most powerful battleship in the world, she was actually among the ranks of less heavily armed capital warships in 1941. True, her engineering and fire control, engines and gunnery were superb. But those factors 22

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

ABOVE: The German battleship Bismarck has long been regarded as the most powerful capital ship ever to go to sea. However, closer examination reveals that such may not be the case. LEFT: The World War I-era battlecruiser HMS Hood is sunk after a brief fight with the German battleship Bismarck and the cruiser Prinz Eugen. The loss of Hood shook the British nation, and the Royal Navy redoubled its efforts to sink the German battleship that has achieved mythical status as one of the most powerful battleships ever built.

battlecruisers had blown up, but the main force of the German High Seas Fleet and the British Grand Fleet had suffered little crippling damage. Even when the biggest guns were employed, it was armor protection that mattered most. Unfortunately, some naval design experts had yet to grasp this fact. All Jutland proved was that the old way of ending wars with battleships was over. When the Third Reich dawned in 1933, Germany had already begun a massive shipbuilding program. Destroyers, cruisers and, most effectively, U-boats were constructed in great numbers, but the queens of the sea would still be the mighty battleships. Senior Kriegsmarine officers believed they could be far more effective at hitting and sinking convoys, the lifeline of the United Kingdom, than in dangerous shipto-ship duels.

W-Bradford FP Oct2016.qxp_FP 7/28/16 3:07 PM Page 1

W-Oct16 Top Secret_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:55 AM Page 24

Both: National Archives

ABOVE: One of Bismarck’s 15-inch gun turrets, this one named Bruno, looms above the deck as sailors go about their business. Under close scrutiny, the broadside punch of the battleship’s heaviest weapons was only average among the warships of other nations. BELOW: The battlecruisers built by the British Royal Navy prior to World War I sacrificed armor protection for speed. It was this tradeoff that proved fatal to the great Hood, pictured here, in its brief battle with Bismarck and in May 1941.

Grand Admiral Erich Raeder, commander of the Kriegsmarine, first commissioned the building of three Deutschland-class cruisers, Deutschland, Admiral Scheer, and Admiral Graf Spee. While officially heavy cruisers, they were euphemistically called “pocket battleships.” Each “panzerschiff,” or armored ship, carried six 11-inch guns in two turrets as its main armament. Three 14,500-ton Admiral Hipper-class cruisers, Hipper, Blucher, and Prinz Eugen, each carried eight 8-inch guns in four turrets. Formidable in themselves, they were soon superseded. The powerful 32,000-ton Scharnhorst and Gneisenau were launched in 1936. They each carried nine 11-inch guns in three turrets. A certain hazy sense of purpose surrounds these two ships. They were referred to at various times as battlecruisers, heavy cruisers, and even battle24

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

ships. Since the battlecruisers were traditionally meant to act as fast scouts rather than capital ships, this betrays an uncertainty in the Kriegsmarine as to what their role was meant to be. Not so for Bismarck, laid down in 1936 and launched at the Blohm & Voss Shipyard near Hamburg on St. Valentine’s Day, 1939. A beaming Hitler attended the ceremonies. The new battleship was to be armed with eight 15-inch guns in four turrets and a dozen 5.9-inch rifles in six turrets. At 42,000 tons and protected by 13 inches of armor, Bismarck was the biggest warship ever built in Germany. With both radar and advanced fire control systems to aim her guns, she was capable of doing great damage to other warships and totally destroying any unarmored merchant ship with ease. The Royal Navy watched her progress with trepidation. When war broke out the primary

targets of the German warships were the Atlantic convoys that provided Britain with vital supplies of food and raw materials. They carried munitions, planes, tanks, food, supplies, and troops to Great Britain’s armies. If the vulnerable transports and tankers could be sunk, it was only a matter of time before Britain would fall. However, Bismarck was not feared for her firepower alone. The British Admiralty worried over what she could do to convoys, Britain’s lifeline. The Royal Navy needed to stop her. In the spring of 1941, Bismarck was undergoing sea trials in the Baltic Sea. When she and her consort, the Prinz Eugen, finally left the Baltic and Norwegian waters to head out to the Atlantic, the fate of Great Britain was uncertain. Already Scharnhorst and Gneisenau had sunk 22 ships totaling 115,000 tons. And they had nowhere near Bismarck’s firepower. In May, 16 convoys were out in the Atlantic, headed for the Mediterranean or the British Isles. Even with Royal Navy destroyers, cruisers, and battleships providing escort, they were all vulnerable to Bismarck’s huge guns. Bismarck was the all-consuming obsession of the British Admiralty. For six days, through good and bad weather, good luck and tragedy, two fleets and nearly a dozen individual warships tried to find, engage, and sink the German behemoth. On May 24, the pride of the Royal Navy, the huge battlecruiser HMS Hood, met up with Bismarck in the Denmark Strait. When Hood and the terror of the seas met for the first and last time it really came down to the two biggest kids on the block slugging it out to see who was toughest. One was an old fighter with a heavier punch but a shorter reach, while the other was a young boxer who could hit faster. Less than 10 minutes after they opened fire on each other, the mighty Hood received a hit that pierced her main ammunition magazines and exploded in a massive detonation that killed all but three of her 1,400 crewmen. What really mattered was not the size of the guns. It was range, armor protection, and accuracy. Hood and Bismarck carried almost identical main armament. Hood’s loss was a deep blow to Great Britain, and it only served to steel British resolve. To the rest of the world watching the sea drama unfolding it seemed to prove that Bismarck was invincible. Sinking the Hood was a propaganda bonanza for the Third Reich. Avenging the Hood was a rallying cry for the British nation. Neither side could back down. The Royal Navy scraped together every available ship, and in the end, by the sheerest

W-NextTen FP Oct2016.qxp_FP 8/5/16 10:17 AM Page 1

W-Oct16 Top Secret_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:55 AM Page 26

U.S. Navy History and Heritage Command

The Japanese battleship Yamato, shown in harbor during construction, along with its sister Musashi mounted the heaviest guns ever placed aboard a modern warship. These 18-inch cannons were tremendously powerful.

luck and steadfast determination, two Royal Navy battleships finally turned Bismarck into a flaming wreck. For more than 70 years Bismarck’s superiority has been taken for granted. The 1960 film added to the legend, and in time it was taken as

26

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

fact. But how did it start? Who was the first to make the statement that Bismarck was incomparable? Careful research among German and British archives from the Imperial War Museum and the Naval Historical Center reveals not a single public pre-1941 proclamation of Bis-

marck as “the most powerful and/or biggest” battleship in the world. Not even the Nazi War Ministry or the Propaganda Ministry seems to have made such a claim. Josef Goebbels, Minister of Propaganda, certainly the master of deceit and spin control, would have been the logical one to say it, but he was too smart. Any naval expert would have challenged a boast of Bismarck’s strength, and the Third Reich would have lost face. The closest to such a claim was during her launching at the port of Kiel. Hitler proudly stated that Bismarck and her sister Tirpitz were the “most powerful warships ever built in Germany.” That too is not fully accurate. Back in 1916 during the height of the Great War, SMS Bayern was launched. She was the first of Kaiser Wilhelm II’s new superdreadnoughts. She carried no less than eight 15-inch guns, the same as Bismarck would carry 23 years later. Hitler seems to have forgotten this minor point. The most the Germans could honestly say, if such a word would ever be recognized by the German Propaganda Ministry, is that Bismarck was the newest and most advanced warship in the world. After a careful study of the major warships of the time, it appears the mighty Bismarck’s bark was worse than its bite. Naval guns, by the spring of 1941, were as

W-Oct16 Top Secret_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:55 AM Page 27

good as they would ever get. Their size and range increased from the early 12-inch cannon used on the pioneering HMS Dreadnought in 1906, growing by leaps and bounds by the beginning of the Great War. Soon, even 13.5inch guns were overtaken by the massive 15inch guns of the colossal Queen Elizabeth-class super-dreadnoughts. They set the standard in the Royal Navy that held sway for the next 20 years. But there were exceptions. For the sister battleships HMS Nelson and HMS Rodney, launched in 1920 and 1922, respectively, nine 16-inch guns, the largest ever cast by the British, were fitted. With three triple-gun turrets, they were later matched by the American Iowa-class battleships. They were the heaviest guns ever mounted on a British warship. The pendulum between more guns and bigger guns swung back and forth, partially due to cost and the configuration of the proposed vessels. Thus, prior to World War II the newest battleship in the Royal Navy was the King George V with 10 14-inch guns in three turrets. The forward and aft guns were set in two ponderous four-gun turrets, while the last two were set in a high-mounted twin turret. This illustrates the capricious nature of battleship design in the interwar period and the early 1940s. The 14-inch gun was the standard in the U.S. Navy, appearing on nearly every battleship from the USS Nevada until the launching of USS Iowa in 1942. Nevada carried ten 14-inch guns, while the later USS Arizona boasted 12 guns in four turrets. France’s largest battleships, Jean Bart and Richelieu, each carried eight 15-inch guns. Italy’s capital battleship Vittorio Veneto had nine guns of the same caliber and rated at 40,000 tons and 780 feet long. Of course, any examination of World War II battleships must include the Japanese super battleships Yamato and Musashi. Yamato had been launched by the time of the Bismarck chase but would not be commissioned until December 1941. At 65,000 tons, Yamato and Musashi carried nine immense 18-inch guns, the largest ever mounted on a ship. These were the apogee of battleship design, but both remained vulnerable to carrier-based aircraft and were sunk by U.S. Navy planes during the war. To clearly illustrate how Bismarck’s armament was less than equal to many if not most of the world’s major warships, it will be necessary to look at certain criteria. Main armament, including caliber, weight of shell, and range are the most important criteria for a battleship’s guns, indeed its very reason for existence. Using a simple formula of the number of Continued on page 74

GERMAN WW2 CONCRETE ANTI-PERSONNEL MINE

GERMAN ZZ 35 FUSE ZUNDER ZUGZUENDER

BRITISH WW11 GAS MASK AND BAG

ORIGINAL WW2 GERMAN GAS MASK FILTER FE 41

AMERICAN 29th INFANTRY DIVISION PATCH - ORIGINAL

GERMAN FAITHFUL SERVICE CROSS, 2ND CLASS ORIGINAL

WW2 POUCH: CANADIAN PATTERN THOMPSON SMG ORIGINAL WW11 US M37 BREN AMMO MAGAZINE FIVE CELL 20 ROUND MAG POUCH

OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

27

W-Apr16 Bulge Sergeant_Layout 1 8/8/16 12:18 PM Page 28

THREE DAYS BEHIND

ENEMY LINES AN AMERICAN INFANTRY SERGEANT SURVIVED AN ORDEAL DURING THE OPENING CHAPTER OF THE BATTLE OF THE BULGE. BY JAY MARQUART

T

he sound of German artillery shells shrieking overhead from across the Siegfried Line was not the wakeup call Technical Sergeant Robert Walter of 3rd Platoon, L Company, 3rd Battalion, 393rd Infantry Regiment expected to receive on the morning of December 16, 1944. He had experienced enemy shelling before. Photo courtesy Bob Walter family Since mid-November, when the 99th Infantry Division assumed responsibility for the sector of the Ardennes Forest previously manned by the 9th Infantry Division, Sergeant Walter and his fellow 99ers had been the recipients of regular artillery barrages that were carried out with predictable German efficiency. Every day at the same time, the periscopes on the bunkers across the Siegfried Line rose out of their ports. A short time later, a half dozen rounds would come crashing down on the American lines. After that, the guns fell silent for the rest of the day. The men of the Checkerboard Division had started calling this their “daily allowance” and even found some comfort in the routine. Sergeant Walter and his foxhole mates figured the present bombardment was just more of the same and that, for whatever reason, the Germans were getting things done a little early that morning—0530 to be exact. Soon, though, it became apparent that something was very different about this day’s enemy fire mission. Rather than a leisurely six rounds for the entire attack, that number of shells now rained down in a matter of seconds. Bright flashes lit up the darkness, the ground shook, and the noise was incredible. Also, instead of dying out after a few minutes the barrage continued for what seemed like forever—and only grew in intensity. “That ends our daily ration!” one of the men with Walter quipped over the din as they huddled in their foxhole. To the 22-year-old technical sergeant, however, something big was obviously going on. What puzzled Walter was that none of the shells seemed to be aimed at the thin line of infantrymen stretched along the International Highway, a north-south road essentially marking the border between Belgium and Germany. Instead, the target appeared to be farther west. He concluded that the enemy gunners were trying to knock out the 99th Division’s artillery battalions located a mile or so northeast

28

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

W-Apr16 Bulge Sergeant_Layout 1 8/8/16 12:15 PM Page 29

National Archives

With the body of a dead German soldier lying yards from their position, two men of the 393rd Regiment, 99th Infantry Division scan the distance from their foxhole during the Battle of the Bulge. Sergeant Walter's platoon of the 393rd was trapped behind enemy lines during the great battle in the West in the winter of 1944-45. OPPOSITE: This rare color photo of Bob Walter during World War II was taken shortly after he endured the heat and humidity of the Louisiana Maneuvers in 1943 and received his sergeant's stripes. Walter went on to lead his platoon heroically during the Battle of the Bulge.

OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

29

W-Apr16 Bulge Sergeant_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:09 AM Page 30

of the twin villages of Krinkelt and Rocherath, Belgium. At approximately 0730, the shelling lifted. Third Platoon and the rest of L Company stayed low in their foxholes, however. The sound of artillery was now replaced by rifle and machine-gun fire coming from seemingly everywhere around them. The rate of fire was especially heavy to the south, in the vicinity of L Company’s brother companies I and K. This baffled Sergeant Walter. He could understand it if all of the noise was coming from the north, in the direction of Monschau. For the past three days a regimental combat team consisting of two battalions from the 99th’s 395th Infantry Regiment and the 2nd Battalion from his own 393rd had been supporting the 2nd Infantry Division’s efforts to seize the Wahlerscheid road junction inside the German border. The Wahlerscheid offensive was critical in the Allies’ larger effort to capture the Roer River dams, which were key to their advance across the Roer Plain. The Germans knew this, too, and had waged a ferocious defense to ensure the Wahlerscheid crossroad stayed in their hands. To support the Wahlerscheid drive, the remainder of the 393rd and the 394th Infantry Regiment to its south (the third infantry regi-

ment of the 99th Division) had staged limited objective demonstration attacks all along their front lines. Their goal was to occupy as many enemy troops as possible to discourage German commanders from relocating these resources to the battle up north. The action had been brisk at times but nothing like what Walter was now hearing to his right. A significant action was underway. As he continued listening to the unseen battle raging nearby, Sergeant Walter again focused on his unique, and not entirely welcome, position within 3rd Platoon. Like every platoon in the 99th, the 3rd had been led by an officer, a second lieutenant, when the division entered the line. Soon after arriving in the Ardennes, however, the lieutenant made a clumsy jump out of the bed of a truck and fractured an ankle so badly that he had to be removed from combat. Due to the manpower shortage at that point in the war, no replacement was immediately named. So, for the time being, Sergeant Walter had become 3rd Platoon’s leader as well as its sergeant. Until now, the young NCO had not found his dual role too overwhelming. But as the small arms exchange to the south continued growing in volume, the weight of his responsibilities began to press on him. He wished his

company commander, Captain Paul Fogelman, would radio to let him know what was happening. The captain’s call finally came, but it was not at all what Walter had expected. “Bob,” Fogelman’s voice crackled over the speaker, “I received a report that some Germans have infiltrated our kitchen area. Take your platoon back and clear them out.” That was it? Along with the orders, Walter had hoped for an update regarding all that gunfire. But the captain did not act like he knew any more about the situation. “Yes, sir,” Walter replied. He was now more concerned than ever. Rousting his men from their foxholes, Walter briefed them on the mission and told them to take along only what they needed for the assignment, which in this case consisted mainly of rifles, ammunition, and grenades. The intent was to get the job done and get back to their foxholes as soon as possible, so everything not absolutely necessary was to be left behind. Within minutes, the platoon was headed west toward the company kitchen area located roughly three city blocks from the front line. It might as well have been three miles. In the dense woods, the men could not see more than a few feet ahead of them. Not wanting to get separated and not sure what they were walking into, they proceeded with caution.

“HEY, SOMETHING’S REALLY GONE WRONG!” HE YELLED INTO THE HANDSET. “THERE ARE MORE GERMANS BACK HERE THAN THERE ARE IN FRONT OF US!” TO WALTER EVERYTHING SEEMED TO HAVE GOTTEN TURNED AROUND AND THEY WERE NOW FIGHTING THE WAR IN REVERSE.

Ullstein Bild

30

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

W-Apr16 Bulge Sergeant_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:09 AM Page 31

National Archives

Before the platoon got halfway to its destination, Sergeant Walter’s worst fears were realized. Germans, a lot of them, began appearing all around the unit. This was much more than a few infiltrators. The forest was crawling with enemy soldiers. Third Platoon had to fight its way into its own company kitchen area. Once there, the men began cleanup operations while Sergeant Walter radioed back to the front lines. “Hey, something’s really gone wrong!” he yelled into the handset. “There are more Germans back here than there are in front of us!” To Walter everything seemed to have gotten turned around and they were now fighting the war in reverse. Despite the topsy turvy situation, 3rd Platoon’s order stood: clear the kitchen area. Surprisingly, the Germans there seemed more interested in continuing west than in trading bullets with Walter and his men. As the platoon moved in, these invaders moved out. Soon, the little patch of ground was back in friendly hands with the exception of one small building that no one had yet checked out. By now, the sounds of battle from the surrounding woods had grown noticeably fiercer—and closer! Third Platoon went to ground, the men crouching or lying behind anything that offered even a measure of protection. Sergeant Walter desperately wanted to withdraw the platoon back to the company position, but he still was not sure about the status of that lone building. Under the circumstances, strolling up to the door and peeking inside did not seem particularly wise. The sergeant called to one of his men near the structure to throw a grenade at it, figuring the explosion would persuade anyone inside to come out. The soldier’s toss missed the mark, and so did those of other platoon members who took a crack at the building. None could hit it. Since he had played a lot of softball as a kid, Walter finally decided he might have better luck. Rising to his feet behind a tree, he pulled the pin on a grenade, released the handle, counted to two, then stepped out and let fly. Walter’s grenade did not hit its target either. But instead of falling short, it sailed over the roof of the building, exploding as it passed above the ridge. Shrapnel slapped down on the shingles; the noise inside must have been deafening. Despite being a serious overthrow, Walter’s effort had produced exactly the effect he had wanted. At the same time, not 30 feet from where the sergeant made his throw, a flag rose from a foxhole that the L Company kitchen crew had dug sometime in the past. But its current occupants were not members of the 99th Division. Rather,

ABOVE: Two men of the 372nd Field Artillery Battalion, 99th Division pose for a photographer on the day before the Germans unleashed their Ardennes Offensive. Sergeant Walter believed the German artillery barrage that preceded the ground offensive was intended to knock out American guns some distance behind the 99th Division's defensive perimeter. OPPOSITE: Moving rapidly through the thickly wooded Ardennes Forest, German infantrymen in their long winter overcoats advance swiftly during the opening hours of the Battle of the Bulge. Walter's platoon captured three German soldiers who were apparently drunk during the opening phase of their desperate offensive.

they turned out to be three German soldiers with a machine gun who had decided to take cover there when 3rd Platoon showed up. Walter was stunned. He had no idea why they had not shot him down when he stepped out from behind the tree. Third Platoon quickly moved to take the Germans prisoner. As these men were searched, Walter noticed something strange about them. They acted drunk. A couple of platoon members checked their canteens, and sure enough they contained alcohol. “So that’s how they got them up for this fight,” Walter thought. “Sent them in drunk. Filled their canteens with liquor and then said, ‘Take off, boys.’” In the brief moments it took to disarm the Germans, the noise from the woods had turned into the zip and thwack of bullets cutting the foliage and striking objects all around, forcing the men of 3rd Platoon to take cover again. The battle was definitely headed their way. Everyone hugged the ground tightly. During the firestorm, Private Snow managed to crawl up to Sergeant Walter, who was sheltering behind a tree. “Sergeant, do you mind if I stay near you?” he asked. “You seem kind of lucky.” Lucky? Snow must have figured that since Walter had survived standing up to throw that

grenade he had a streak of good fortune going. The sergeant and the private had trained together for two years, and Walter knew Snow to be a good soldier—quiet but competent. Snow was a Californian, and that had always struck Walter as funny—Snow from California. Right now, though, he could tell the private was scared to death. In the midst of the confusion, he felt compassion for the guy. “Help yourself,” he replied. Relieved, Snow moved close to Sergeant Walter, and the two men lay side by side as the gunfire intensified. A short time later, Walter said something to Snow, but the private did not respond. Glancing over at him, the sergeant was horrified by what he saw. Sometime in the last few minutes, a bullet had caught Snow between the eyes and he was dead. Walter never even felt him twitch. German infantrymen started pouring through the area. From the woods behind the Americans came the growling sound of enemy tanks—something 3rd Platoon was not at all equipped to handle. There was no time to contact the captain. Sergeant Walter knew he had to get his men out of the way. Otherwise, they would be prisoners or worse. But returning to L Company was out of the question. Motioning for the others to follow, he headed south toward I Company. They had no choice but to OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

31

W-Apr16 Bulge Sergeant_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:09 AM Page 32

leave Private Snow’s body behind. This move did little to improve the platoon’s circumstances, however. No matter how fast they traveled, they could not find the enemy’s flank but seemed permanently stuck in the middle of the German advance. Machine guns chattered and grenades exploded. Rifle fire filled the air. Guessing, dodging, hoping, and praying, 3rd Platoon kept pushing south, looking for any spot that could provide a defensive advantage. The force of the attack carried the platoon completely through the I Company sector. As they passed through, the men were shocked not to find a single I Company soldier anywhere. By this time, I Company and the rest of L Company had pulled back to form a perimeter defense around the 3rd Battalion command

its three platoons. A few survivors of this onslaught were still in the area, and they told Walter and his men that maybe 17 soldiers were left from both platoons. The rest had either been killed or captured. More bad news followed. The traumatized K Company men reported that a couple of their buddies taken prisoner during the assault were wearing German belt buckles when captured. This infuriated their captors, who assumed these GIs had removed the buckles from the bodies of dead German soldiers they had killed, so they “re-removed” these souvenirs by slitting the Americans open with their bayonets. The report sent a panic through 3rd Platoon, and each man did a quick inventory to ensure he did not possess anything that had once belonged to a German. Days earlier while on a

Ullstein Bild

German PzKpfw. V Panther medium tanks roll along a muddy road silhouetted against a winter landscape during the early hours of the Ardennes Offensive. Walter's 3rd Platoon, Company L, 3rd Battalion, 393rd Infantry Regiment hunkered down for hours beside an unpaved road as German tanks and infantry streamed past.

post northeast of the twin villages, but no one in 3rd Platoon knew this at the time. Worse yet, groups of enemy soldiers traveling west began cutting across the platoon’s route, separating some of its members from the rest of the unit. Sergeant Walter now found his already small command getting smaller by the minute. Third Platoon was finally able to stop its flight in the K Company sector, south of I Company, and what its men found there left them numb. As soon as the German artillery barrage lifted that morning, two battalions of Volksgrenadiers from the I SS Panzer Corps had slammed into K Company, wiping out two of 32

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

patrol, some platoon members had come across a hollow tree stuffed with German money. Clueless as to why the stash was there, they decided some extra funds would come in handy once the 99th crossed into Germany and had stuffed their pockets full. Now, they pulled these bills and coins back out and threw them as far away as possible. While this was occurring, Sergeant Walter remembered his own German item, an eyecatching little pin he had picked up in Krinkelt shortly before the 99th entered the line. The townspeople told him this decoration was given to any Belgian woman who became pregnant

by an SS trooper as a reward for her contribution to the master race. Walter thought the pin was beautiful and carried it with him so he would not lose track of it. Taking it out of his pocket, he admired its beauty one last time and then tossed it into the underbrush. Again, the roar of tank engines was heard, this time coming from the direction of the unpaved road from Hollerath, Germany, a southwestern route that intersected the International Highway and served as the dividing line between I and K Companies. Investigating this latest threat, Walter and his men could hardly believe their eyes. Scores of panzers accompanied by infantry were rolling down this muddy trail and headed west. The Americans had thought the road was impassable and probably mined as well. Now, the Germans were using it as a thoroughfare for their armor. With no opportunity for other action, the soldiers of 3rd Platoon dove for cover wherever they could find it, hiding behind trees and bushes or burrowing into the snow. Walter found a spot in a clump of shrubbery so close to the road that if he had had a rod no longer than a fishing pole he could have tapped each tank as it drove by. It was the end of the line for Walter and his men. All they could do now was stay hidden and wait for the invaders to pass. That did not happen soon. Hour after hour, the German tank and infantry procession continued. Eventually, the squeak of tank treads became so unnerving that one 3rd Platoon rifleman took a shot at a panzer. All this did was invite the next tank in line to fire a round in the direction of the shot. No one was wounded by the blast—the tank could not get its barrel down low enough. Walter crawled around to all the men. “It’s no use firing at them,” he whispered. “We’re not going to stop them with rifles, so just lay low.” To the sergeant, he and his soldiers resembled ostriches helplessly sticking their heads in the sand. “What the hell am I going to do now?” he asked himself as he settled back into his hiding place. Late in the day, gaps started appearing in the enemy column, so Sergeant Walter decided to cross the Hollerath road with the prisoners his platoon had captured earlier and hike north in search of L Company. Despite the dense forest and the growing darkness, somehow he finally managed to find the company headquarters. Releasing his prisoners to headquarters personnel, he reported to his company commander. Captain Fogelman had no new information he could share with his NCO platoon leader. The extent of the German offensive was still unclear; under these circumstances it was best

W-Apr16 Bulge Sergeant_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:09 AM Page 33

Map © 2016 Philip Schwartzberg, Meridian Mappining, Minneapolis, MN

for 3rd Platoon to remain where it was rather than risk trying to rejoin the company. Then the captain said something that sent a chill through Walter. “If anyone wants to surrender, there will be no repercussions.” The statement caught the sergeant by surprise but needed no further explanation. Captain Fogelman was acknowledging that 3rd Platoon’s situation was grim. If any platoon member decided to save himself rather than continue holding out, he would not face official punishment. It was a sobering consideration. Unsettled, Sergeant Walter wrestled with himself all during his return to the platoon. He didn’t want to surrender and was sure his men didn’t either. So what should he tell them? It was a difficult call, but by the time he sneaked back across the Hollerath road, he had made up his mind. The company was not ready for 3rd Platoon to come in yet. They were to remain in place until a way out could be found. As he repeated this message to each group of men, he omitted what the captain had said about surrender and hoped he was doing the right thing. Meanwhile, the enemy kept coming. Sunday, December 17, brought more uncertainty to Sergeant Walter and his “lost” platoon. There seemed to be no end to the Germans’ advance down the Hollerath road. How did they ever manage to get such a large force that far forward without being noticed? And with the odds against it, how would 3rd Platoon survive? Increasingly, it looked like a hopeless situation. As if the platoon’s predicament was not bad enough, late in the day word arrived that some Nazi outfit had gunned down a large group of American prisoners west of 3rd Platoon near a place called Malmédy. Walter and his men were aghast. When this news broke, Sergeant Walter felt vindicated for not sharing what Captain Fogelman had said about surrender. On the other hand, every hour that passed put 3rd Platoon farther and farther behind enemy lines. The longer this battle continued, the harder it would be for soldiers on either side to abide by any form of recognized rules. By now, he was convinced the Germans knew where his platoon was hiding. If one of the passing units decided to take them prisoner, would they end up like those poor GIs near Malmédy? The Army never used the word retreat but referred to such actions as a “strategic withdrawal.” As he watched the enemy race by, Walter hoped somebody somewhere was working on a strategic withdrawal plan and would get it to them soon. At roughly 2300 that night, during a lull in

ABOVE: Walter led his platoon through heavy concentrations of German troops and armored vehicles as the Americans slipped through enemy lines en route to the town of Elsenborn and friendly forces. Walter's leadership and command presence saved the platoon from capture or annihilation. BELOW: Soldiers of the 99th Infantry Division search German prisoners during the Battle of the Bulge. As word of German atrocities spread, American soldiers took fewer prisoners during the desperate fighting. The three drunk Germans that Sergeant Walter's men captured may not have reached a prison camp.

National Archives

the traffic on the Hollerath road, 3rd Platoon was startled to hear the sound of a vehicle coming up the road from the west. The vehicle turned out to be an American medical jeep that had been sent forward to evacuate the wounded. The fact that this driver got through was miraculous to Sergeant Walter; Germans

were thick on all sides. Apparently, they had seen the jeep’s Red Cross symbol and respected it—a heartening sign after the Malmédy news. Despite their surprise, Sergeant Walter, his best friend Staff Sergeant Walter Levdansky, and several other soldiers came out of hiding to assist the driver. After helping load three litter OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

33

W-Apr16 Bulge Sergeant_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:09 AM Page 34

cases onto the jeep, they watched the driver speed off into the night headed west. “Where in the hell do you think you’re going?” Sergeant Walter thought. The idea that the driver could make it back to the safety of the American lines was harder to fathom than the possibility of reaching 3rd Platoon in the first place. Late on the morning of December 18, Sergeant Walter received word from Captain Fogelman that 3rd/393rd had been ordered to pull back to a new defensive position near a place called Elsenborn. Not certain what this meant for 3rd Platoon, Walter made another trip to L Company, seeking more information. “We think we’ve found a route back to our lines,” Fogelman said after Walter arrived. He explained that about 100 yards west was a little valley bordered on its far side by a hill. The valley ran north for some distance before turning west, and L Company was going to use this defilade to withdraw. But to mask this movement, one unit would have to create a diversion. Then he dropped a bombshell. That unit was 3rd Platoon. “I want you to keep your platoon where it is and give us covering fire while we pull out,” he added. Taken aback, Sergeant Walter began to wonder what his commanding officer thought of him and his men. Did he consider them expendable? Who was going to cover their withdrawal? This “plan” sounded more like a suicide mission. Captain Fogelman next briefed the sergeant on when and where 3rd Platoon was to reconnect with the company after the withdrawal, and then dismissed him to return to his men. As he was leaving headquarters, Walter overheard

a directive that was even more disturbing than the orders he had just been given. An officer told several GIs to take the three prisoners he had brought in two days earlier into the woods and shoot them. Later, while Walter was still en route to his destination, gunshots sounded from the area where the officer had pointed. Back with 3rd Platoon, Sergeant Walter gathered his men and briefed them on their mission. Then he had them cross the Hollerath road in small groups. The platoon moved north to take up new positions nearer to L Company. At the time when the company’s pullback was to begin, 3rd Platoon cut loose with a brief but intense rifle volley in the direction of the advancing Germans. This ignited a hailstorm of bullets and mortar rounds from the other side. But instead of being directed at 3rd Platoon, this barrage thundered down on the valley where L Company was trying to make its escape. How had they known, and how bad were things in that valley? Suddenly, the sergeant felt much better about the role his platoon had been given in this operation. Maybe the captain had done him and his men a favor after all. Now, a game of chicken began as Sergeant Walter tried to determine whether the Germans that blasted L Company had left the area or were still out there waiting for 3rd Platoon to make its move. After an hour and a half, he called the men together. “First of all, I’ve been told if you want to surrender, it’s no disgrace,” Walter said, finally sharing what Captain Fogelman had told him earlier. “We aren’t trained this way, but do you see that hill behind us? Personally, I’m going

over it. If you want to follow me, you can. If you have a route you think is better, take it. The main thing is to get out of here and get back to our lines.” To a man, the platoon voted to follow their sergeant. Walter had one more precaution to take. Directing his men to redistribute ammunition so that each soldier had at least one full clip, he ordered the platoon to fire another volley at the Germans to see if they would answer in kind. After roughly 10 minutes, when there was no return fire, he gave the order: “Okay, let’s go.” Although unconventional, Sergeant Walter’s plan worked to perfection. He and his men were cresting the hill before the Germans, who had been waiting for the platoon, realized what was happening and opened up with machine guns. Even then, they had been anticipating another move through the valley and had registered their weapons too low to have any effect. The bullets chewed harmlessly into the hillside while the platoon made good its break. The greatest enemy facing 3rd Platoon now became the weather. The snow was already two feet deep and more was falling. It was miserably cold, and the wind was whipping the heavy curtain of flakes around so hard that visibility was practically zero. Unlike some other soldiers he had trained with back in the States, Sergeant Walter had made the most of his time in compass school. Now that skill became a lifesaver, keeping him and his men on course for their hookup with L Company rather than wandering aimlessly around the woods. Third Platoon’s route took it through the sector previously occupied by the 99th Divi-

National Archives

On the morning of December 20, 1944, the day after Walter and his platoon safely arrived inside American lines, soldiers of Companies A, B, C, and D, 393rd Infantry Regiment, 99th Division reposition their foxholes in the vicinity of the town of Elsenborn.

34

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

W-Apr16 Bulge Sergeant_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:09 AM Page 35

Both: National Archives

sion’s artillery battalions. There the unit found big guns and towing vehicles, jeeps mostly, that had been abandoned in place because the withdrawing units did not have time to ready them for travel. Determined not to leave anything useful for the enemy, the men paused long enough to drop grenades into gun breeches and engine compartments. Then, realizing that the explosions might attract the attention of any German units nearby, they made a hasty exit. A short distance away, though, the platoon stopped again when it ran across the artillery unit’s food dump; not food in packages—a literal garbage dump. Hunger overcame fear as men who had not eaten in three days scrounged through other men’s castoffs looking for something edible. Sergeant Walter managed to find a piece of bread that had not been totally demolished by the elements. His buddy Sergeant Levdansky was the big winner. He found a whole raw potato. That evening as darkness settled in, the worn out men of 3rd Platoon finally reached their rendezvous point with L Company, a section of woods to the east of the twin villages. The place was fairly open with sparse underbrush but still offered good concealment for L Company and the assorted stragglers from other units who had assembled there. Relieved to be back among so many friendly faces, Sergeant Walter and his men relished the prospect of catching a little shut-eye before making the final push to their new defensive positions. But sleep was in short supply that night. As always, the Germans seemed to know exactly where L Company was and threw a steady stream of phosphorous flares over its position, lighting up the area like it was daylight. Instead of getting some much needed rest, the men of 3rd Platoon, along with the others, were forced to stay awake, bracing for sniper fire and an artillery attack that never came. The flares finally tapered off around midnight on December 19. Shortly afterward, L Company crept away under cover of darkness, trudging northwest for hours through the snow and ice to rejoin 3rd Battalion at a place that was not even on the map but would soon become renowned because of its stubborn defense by the American units dug in there. They stopped SS General Josef “Sepp” Dietrich’s Sixth Panzer Army dead in its tracks. That place was Elsenborn Ridge. Technical Sergeant Robert Walter had no inkling that this destiny lay ahead as he stared wearily at the boomerang-shaped piece of high ground in the faint morning light. After three gut-wrenching days behind enemy lines, caught

ABOVE: A soldier of the 99th Infantry Division covers the muzzle of his rifle during a lull in the fighting at Elsenborn Ridge. The remnants of the division were among the American troops that slowed the momentum of the German advance during the Battle of the Bulge, standing their ground in the face of the enemy onslaught. BELOW: Improvising with a coffin attached to a pair of skis, two soldiers of the 99th Infantry Division bring supplies to a position at Elsenborn. This photo was taken in mid-January 1945, about a month after the Ardennes Offensive began.

between indescribable firepower while enduring fear, cold, hunger, and the threat of capture or death at any moment, he had already gone through hell and survived. Elsenborn Ridge was not heaven by a long shot, but at least it offered his 3rd Platoon the chance to live and fight another day. And for now, somehow, that seemed like more than enough. EPILOGUE: Sergeant Walter survived the war and returned to his home in Fostoria, Ohio,

where he served as a police officer for nearly a decade before entering private industry. Throughout his working career, he also gave freely of his time as a volunteer to many civic organizations in the Fostoria community. Sergeant Walter passed away April 19, 2014, at the age of 91. Jay Marquart is a freelance writer from Bluffton, Ohio, whose writing has appeared in such publications as Horse & Rider, Military Medical/ CBRN Technology, and Vietnam. OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

35

W-Oct16 USS Pennsylvania_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:17 AM Page 36

O

n Sunday morning, December 7, 1941, Gunner’s Mate Russell Winsett, 19, awoke at 5 AM as he did most mornings. As he went topside he could see that the weather was like almost every December day in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, sunny blue skies with a few white puffy clouds. This was a day Winsett was looking forward to. He thought to himself, “It’s gonna be a beautiful day to visit the island with my cousin, his wife, and three kids.” Winsett had met his relative William Pope several months earlier when his family wrote and told him that he had a distant cousin also stationed at Pearl Harbor. Winsett had found the ship William was serving on, contacted him, and they met for a short visit. The next day his cousin went on a twomonth cruise. Winsett was looking forward to reconnecting with his family member and get-

The .50-caliber machine guns of the battleship USS Pennsylvania unloaded 65,000 rounds of ammunition on December 7, 1941.

rence. During the medical exam they found something in my kidneys they didn’t like, so they took my two buddies immediately, but sent me home with instructions on how to cure myself. Two weeks later I went back, and they passed me that time.” Winsett never saw his two buddies after that but found out later that both of them lost their lives during the war. He was soon off to boot camp in Norfolk, Virginia. After boot camp he took a five-day train trip to Bremerton, Washington, to join the crew of the battleship USS Pennsylvania. “Back then you didn’t have all the specialized training they do with sailors today. You learned by getting on ship and having the chief watch over you.” The lead ship of her class, Pennsylvania was laid down on October 27, 1913, by the Newport News Shipbuilding Company, in Newport

WITNESS TO THE

Opening BY BRIAN H. WRIGHT

ting to meet his wife and kids while taking in the sights of Hawaii. It was a long way from home for this Alabama farm boy. Winsett graduated from high school in 1939 and began working on the family farm. His oldest brother had already joined the Army. In 1940, Russell started thinking of life off the farm. “It was a good life, but I didn’t like the back breaking work of farming in the heat,” he said of his childhood in the little town of Hamilton in northwest Alabama. “I was simply tired of using a mule’s ass for a compass. So one day, me [sic] and two other buddies decided that we would join the Navy. We drove to the recruiting station over in Flo36

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

News, Virginia. Launched on March 16, 1915, and commissioned on June 12, 1916, she began her proud tradition in October of that year as the flagship of the Atlantic Fleet. During her time as flagship, the Pennsylvania escorted ships carrying President Woodrow Wilson on tours as well as having Vice President Thomas Marshall and other dignitaries on board. In 1922, the Pennsylvania joined the Pacific Fleet based in San Pedro, California. During the interwar period, her duties primarily involved operations along the West Coast. Winsett felt lucky to be assigned to such a proud ship. “This ship is a whole lot bigger than my house,” he remembered thinking upon see-

U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command

Salvos

W-Oct16 USS Pennsylvania_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:17 AM Page 37

The battleship USS Pennsylvania lies in drydock in Pearl Harbor during the aftermath of the Japanese attack on December 7, 1941. Just forward of the battleship lie the severely damaged destroyers USS Downes (left) and Cassin. Pennsylvania sustained some damage, but her crew managed to fight back, firing machine guns and antiaircraft weapons at the attackers.

OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

37

W-Oct16 USS Pennsylvania_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:17 AM Page 38

ing the Pennsylvania. His first week on board was spent getting familiar with the ship and learning his duties. After a week, the Pennsylvania set sail for Hawaii. “The cruise took about a week, and we had some rough seas but I never got seasick, and then we finally sailed into Pearl Harbor. It was like being in paradise.” The Pennsylvania arrived in January 1941, and Winsett was excited to go ashore and see the sights. Life on the island was beautiful and fun for this young man of humble beginnings. “Really, you couldn’t do much on $21 a month pay,” he said. “Mostly when we got liberty we just went downtown. Some guys liked to go to Hotel Street, which was kinda the main drag. That’s where the working girls hung out.” For Winsett, however, that was not one of the pleasures of this paradise. When asked, he smiled, shook his head, and with a gleam in

during the Japanese attack, the Pennsylvania was in Drydock No. 1 at the Pearl Harbor Navy Yard with three of her propeller shafts removed. In the same drydock off the bow of the Pennsylvania were two destroyers, the USS Downes and USS Cassin. Pennsylvania’s normal sea berth while in port was B-2, which was occupied that morning by the cruiser USS Helena with the minelayer USS Oglala alongside. Activity aboard the Pennsylvania was even quieter than normal since she was excused, due to being drydocked, from the normal morning antiaircraft drills. A condition watch of antiaircraft personnel was on duty, but the guns where unmanned. With the Pennsylvania in drydock, the crew had to go ashore to bathe and use the facilities. After breakfast that morning Winsett made his way down the gangplank toward the shipyard

U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command

In this aerial photograph of Pearl Harbor taken approximately December 10, 1941, the USS Pennsylvania is prominently visible at right in drydock with the heavily damaged destroyers Cassin and Downes visible forward of the large warship.

his eye said, “No that wasn’t for me, especially since it cost $5, and I was only making $21 per month.” Winsett’s shipboard duties did not allow for a lot of free time. “There was always something to clean, something to wax, or something to paint on board,” he explained. The Pennsylvania crew was especially proud of one member. Joe Bennett was the fleet heavyweight boxing champ and a friend of Winsett. “Everyone knew Joe to be a good guy, but he was definitely someone you didn’t want to mess with.” On the fateful morning of December 7, 1941, 38

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

facilities to shower and get ready for his day with his cousin and family. “I wasn’t in any big hurry, since liberty didn’t begin until 8 AM,” he recalled. “It was just a normal day. No one was really expecting anything.” Then, just as Winsett began walking back toward the Pennsylvania, he heard booming noises. “I thought, ‘Man, that’s a strange time to have battle practice on Sunday morning.’” Explosions were heard on the end of Ford Island aft of Drydock No. 1. At 7:57 AM came a bugle call and alarm for general quarters. Wearing his dungarees, Winsett ran the 50

yards back to the ship and his battle station, a .50-caliber machine gun facing toward the bow on the starboard side. He still believed it was just “another drill.” As soon as the stations were manned, Condition “YOKE” (Enemy Is Probable) was set by Captain C.M. Cooke, Jr. “None of us believed it was an actual attack, at least at first,” remembered Winsett. “Back then there wasn’t TV and just occasionally a radio for music. I didn’t keep up with the news on a daily basis, and maybe the officers suspected something but they never told the enlisted men anything, so we were all surprised. By the time I got to my position the first wave of attacking planes had started their strafing run. The ammo box beside my gun was locked, so I took a dog wrench and broke off the lock.” Winsett’s gun was not the only one with the ammo locked up. In the after action report it is noted that many men broke off the locks versus waiting for keys to be found. However, Winsett now laughs that a junior officer put him on report and recommended he be courtmartialed for breaking the lock or, as the junior officer stated in his report, “destroying government property.” “That Ensign took me before the captain after everything was over and the Captain just shook his head and said, no we are not going to even consider this. That ended my court martial,” Winsett laughed. On that fateful morning, sailors aboard ships throughout Pearl Harbor were stunned and then sprang into action. “Japanese planes, they were all over,” Winsett said. “You could see the red ball on the wings and the fuselages.” Winsett began firing his .50-caliber machine gun, and while he will not claim that he shot any Japanese planes down, he is sure he hit many of them. “The ammo was set with tracer rounds every third shot, so it was easy to follow my aim,” he commented. “Those Jap planes were so close I could see the smile on the faces of the pilots as they attacked.” Fighters and dive bombers streaked overhead, strafing the Pennsylvania as they passed. Winsett kept firing. One civilian, a shipyard worker named George Walters, ran the large dock crane back and forth along its track attempting to block the path of the low-flying Japanese aircraft with the boom. Gunners on the Pennsylvania had their fields of vision blocked since they were below ground level in the drydock and used the boom as a warning sign to indicate the direction of incoming Japanese aircraft. Formations of torpedo planes and dive bombers passed directly over the Pennsylvania

W-Oct16 USS Pennsylvania_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:17 AM Page 39

National Archives

Assisted by a tugboat in a narrow waterway, the USS Pennsylvania is pictured while docking near shore facilities sometime in 1925. The battleship’s configuration was somewhat altered during a major refit that took place in 1929.

as they focused on Battleship Row, which was off the stern on the Pennsylvania. “Those guys were passing right over my machine gun facing the bow of the ship,” said Winsett. “You could see the pilot. That’s when you let go, when you really knew you were hitting something.” Acting automatically, the young sailor fed bullets into the machine guns on a long belt and corrected his aim with red-colored tracers. After about 15 minutes of firing, the gravity of the situation began to sink in. “I realized at that point that we were at war,” Winsett observed. Shooting from the mainmast was a strange experience, one moment spent feverishly firing at Japanese planes and the next forced to sit and observe since the weapon would not swing around 360 degrees. In those moments, Winsett was free to look around and witness the battle. “I really couldn’t see a lot, mostly just what was in front of me, toward the bow of the ship toward the two destroyers also in dry-dock,” he said. “When the Cassin and Downes took hits and the fires started, the view in that direction became thick with smoke. Smoke was everywhere and really blocked my view except for close by.” The worst moment for Winsett came when he spotted a good friend from boot camp, the ship’s photographer. His friend was “climbing the aftermast to get some pictures. Next thing I knew he was on the way down. They shot him. That hurt worse than anything else.” Winsett also remembers the explosion from a bomb that exploded between the two

destroyers in drydock. “I heard later on that the bomb didn’t create a lot of damage, but it set off a torpedo on one of the destroyers that really caused most of the damage,” he noted. Fires raged on both the Downes and the Cassin, and the intense heat began to blister the paint on the Pennsylvania and set the teak wood decks ablaze. Pennsylvania was the first ship to return fire that morning, its machine guns barking at 8:02. During the attack Winsett and his fellow gunner’s mates fired 65,000 rounds of .50-caliber ammunition. “Man, I was firing so fast that the barrel got so hot the rifling went out and I had to replace the barrel,” Winsett remembered. “You could tell because the rounds started falling short and way off target. It was no big deal, my assistant gunner and I changed it very quickly.” Hours of drilling paid off. Winsett stayed at his gun and kept fighting back “for what seemed like 8 to 10 hours, but after it was over the battle was not even two hours long.” He is thankful that his gun position was well protected with a four-foot wall with deflection shields to protect the sailors manning the gun from enemy fire. “It was tough moving around as the shell casings fell to the floor of our little area and began to pile up as deep as our ankles,” he said. Early in the action, three Japanese planes came in low from the port beam, firing their machine guns at the Pennsylvania, but Captain Cooke reported, “Strafing attack not effective.”

During the torpedo attacks, one enemy plane was seen to burst into flames about 2,000 yards on the starboard bow. Sometime between 8 and 8:30 AM, the battleship USS Nevada was getting underway and reached a point on the Pennsylvania’s starboard quarter about 600 yards distant when a dive bombing attack approached the Pennsylvania off the port bow. It appeared that 10 to 15 Japanese planes were coming in succession at low altitude. This attack apparently was directed at the Pennsylvania and the two destroyers in drydock, and the attackers were taken under heavy fire. Just before reaching the Pennsylvania, about two-thirds appeared to swerve to the left, a number of them dropping bombs near the Nevada with some misses ahead and astern and at least one hit near the bridge. The Nevada stopped temporarily. At the same time, other planes passed to port and over the Pennsylvania, dropping bombs that fell in the water beyond the caisson. Except for machine-gun bullets, the Pennsylvania was not hit during this attack wave. One of the dive bombers dropped a bomb on the destroyer USS Shaw in the floating drydock off Pennsylvania’s starboard side, setting it on fire. The Nevada then slowly swung around and headed to port, later beaching at Hospital Point. Between 8:30 and 9:15 at least five Japanese bomber formations passed over the Pennsylvania, one from the port bow, one from ahead, one passing to starboard, and two from astern. These attackers were generally in “V” formaOCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

39

W-Oct16 USS Pennsylvania_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:17 AM Page 40

tions with four to six planes in each. The Japanese planes maintained straight courses and were estimated at an altitude of 10,000 to 12,000 feet. The sailors aboard the Pennsylvania believed their first attack was against Battleship Row across the channel. The second attack came in on the port bow and dropped bombs on the ships in the drydock. One bomb hit Downes at approximately 9:06. Another one hit the starboard of the Pennsylvania, and a third hit the boat deck of the battleship a few feet abaft 5-inch gun no. 7, passing through the boat deck and detonating in the casemate of 5-inch gun no. 9. “We had a lot of Marines manning that gun that were killed during that time,” Winsett said. Yet another bomb is believed to have fallen harmlessly into the harbor outside the dock. Sporadic attacks on the Pennsylvania continued for some 15 minutes. The last enemy run was from a plane passing to the south at a low altitude along the port beam. About 30 machine-gun hits in the shield around the maintop machine gun where Winsett was positioned may have come from this plane. None of the bullets that struck the shield managed to pene-

trate it. This particular plane was taken under heavy fire by Pennsylvania’s port batteries and was hit by the machine gun on the port side of the stack. It crashed on the nearby hospital grounds. In after-action interviews, crewmen of the Pennsylvania claimed to have destroyed six enemy planes. However, Captain Cooke noted in his report, “There is fairly good proof of two having been hit by this ship, but there is no way to confirm the other claims.” At 9:20 drydock flooding was started to assist in putting out fires. Both Downes and Cassin were on fire from stem to stern. Flaming oil on the water in dock set fire to the paint on the Pennsylvania’s starboard bow below Winsett’s position. The bomb hit on the dock had cut electrical power, and the Pennsylvania switched to reserve battery power. About 9:30, the destroyers were rocked by explosions, and at 9:41 torpedo warheads on Downes exploded on the starboard side of the destroyer, covering the area with debris. A section of torpedo tube, weighing between 500 and 1,000 pounds, struck the Pennsylvania’s forecastle. Precautionary measures were taken

on the bow of the Pennsylvania to prevent the spread of the fire internally. Luckily, the flames were brought under control before serious damage to the battleship resulted. The Cassin, from which part of the hull had been removed for dock work, rolled over on the Downes. The damage to the Pennsylvania was relatively light considering the number of attacks she endured. The 500-pound bomb hit that damaged the 5-inch guns blew a hole roughly 20 feet by 20 feet in the boat deck. The explosion wrecked galley equipment and caused fuel oil from the service tanks to run into the decks below. Bomb fragments on the boat deck struck a 40-foot motor sailing launch in its skids, perforating the side in a number of places. This motor launch probably saved some of the per-

RIGHT: Years after the Pearl Harbor attack, former Gunner’s Mate Russell Winsett recalled vividly the events of the fateful morning when the United States was plunged into World War II. BELOW: This panoramic view of Pearl Harbor during the Japanese attack reveals the destruction wrought on that Sunday morning. The view is from Pier 1010 and depicts the battleship USS Nevada on fire at right, the cruiser USS Helena moored beside the pier at left, and the hull of the capsized minelayer USS Oglala in the foreground. Smoke billows in the distance at left as the destroyers USS Cassin and USS Downes burn furiously in Drydock No. 1 forward of the USS Pennsylvania.

40

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command

W-Oct16 USS Pennsylvania_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:17 AM Page 41

Both: U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command

sonnel manning the portside guns. Fires erupted on the main deck and on the second deck, and these were difficult to put out because of the lack pressure in the water mains. Fire, water, and leaking oil caused damage to officers’ rooms on the second deck. The bomb explosion in casemate No. 9 killed 26 men and two officers. One officer, Lt. Cmdr. J.E. Craig, was probably passing through the compartment to carry out assigned duties aft. Lieutenant (j.g.) Richard R. Rall of the medical detachment was killed at the battle dressing station in the warrant officer’s mess. One man, tending the donkey boiler on the dock that supplied steam to the ship, was killed, probably either by a machinegun bullet or by the bomb hit on the dock on the starboard side of the ship. Captain Cooke stated, “The conduct of all officers and men was of the highest order. There was no flinching. There was no necessity of urging men to action. Rather was there perhaps in some cases over zeal in the matter of expending ammunition. The Commanding Officer would be glad to recommend each individual participating in the action for distinguished conduct, but recognizes that this cannot well be done.” Both Winsett and the USS Pennsylvania went on to serve throughout World War II. Winsett completed a 20-year career with the Navy and retired as a chief petty officer. After Pearl Harbor he was transferred to a new ship, the destroyer USS Foote. Winsett’s World War II service included seven campaigns. He witnessed the raising of the U.S. flag on the summit of Mount Suribachi on Iwo Jima as well as the invasion of Okinawa. After the propeller screws were replaced on the Pennsylvania, she sailed back to Bremerton, Washington, for immediate repairs and was overhauled in San Francisco in 1942. She participated in the Aleutian Campaign in 1943, where she engaged in the shore bombardment at Holtz Bay, Attu, and Chicago Harbor. As she retired from Attu, she maneuvered at full speed to avoid a torpedo attack from the Japanese submarine I-31, which was subsequently sunk by the destroyers USS Edwards and Frazier. In January 1944, the Pennsylvania bombarded Kwajalein atoll in support of the Marine landings there. The following month Pennsylvania steamed boldly into the lagoon at Eniwetok with her batteries blazing away at enemy installations. Later that morning she bombarded Engebi in support of the assault waves hitting the beach. After Engebi was secured, she steamed to the vicinity of Parry Island, where she took part in the bombardment in support of

ABOVE: In this view of Drydock No. 1 following the attack, the destroyer Cassin has rolled over against the superstructure of the destroyer Downes. Japanese bomb hits and the resulting fires seriously damaged both ships. Looming behind the stricken destroyers, the USS Pennsylvania emerged from the attack with slight damage, the walls of the drydock having provided some protection. BELOW: The USS Pennsylvania sailed to Mare Island, California, where this photo was taken, and eventually reached Bremerton, Washington, to undergo repairs to damage sustained at Pearl Harbor and upgrades to some equipment.

those landings. At Guam, she fired more ammunition than any other warship in U.S. naval history during a single campaign. Pennsylvania earned the nickname “Old Falling Apart” because she expelled so much steel that she appeared to be actually falling apart. “Old Falling Apart” ended her service in July 1946 as a target ship during atomic bomb tests

at Bikini Atoll. Chief Petty Officer Winsett retired from the Navy in 1960 and began work at the U.S. Post Office from 1960 and retired as postmaster in Rio Grande, N.J. in 1975 He passed away in February, 2015 at the age of 94. First-time contributor Brian H. Wright is a resident of Fort Myers, Florida. OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

41

W-Oct16 Sumatra_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:13 AM Page 42

B

y the time the attack on Pearl Harbor plunged the United States into World War II, Japan had been preparing for an all-out offensive in the Pacific for months. Japan relied on imports of raw materials and natural resources to survive. Rubber, tin, iron, and especially oil had to be imported for Japanese industry to function. The same raw materials were also essential for the Japanese war machine. In 1894-1895, Japan defeated China in a short war and gained control of the island of Formosa, part of Korea, and a bit of Manchuria. Along with these territories came

all their natural resources. In 1905, after Japan defeated Russia in the Russo-Japanese War, the Empire of the Sun took control of all of Korea and part of Manchuria that had earlier been gobbled up by the Russians. On September 19, 1931, in the midst of a worldwide depression, Japan staged an incident at a railway station on the Korean border of Manchuria, which it used as an excuse to invade the mineral-rich Chinese province. When the League of Nations condemned the act, Japan resigned from the League. In 1936, to expand her navy, Japan renounced the 1922 Washington Naval Treaty, which had limited

the size of the Japanese Navy. In July 1937, Japan launched a full-scale invasion of China on the pretext that Chinese soldiers had fired on Japanese troops in Manchuria. Although Japan could not conquer all of China, by 1939 it had captured almost all of the important port cities and had firm control of the raw material that went into or out of the Asian giant. In June 1940, after Japan moved into French Indochina while France was under Nazi occupation, the U.S. Congress passed the Export Control Act, which prohibited the export of “strategic minerals and chemicals, aircraft engines, parts, and equipment” to Japan. Con-

Deadly Dash

42

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

W-Oct16 Sumatra_Layout 1 8/8/16 12:24 PM Page 43

U.S. Army Art Collection

spicuously absent from this list was crude oil. The already strained relations between the United States and Japan worsened in September 1940 when the Japanese signed the Tripartite Pact with Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy. Hitler, who was already planning to start a war in Europe, was hoping that the Tripartite Pact would encourage Japan to invade the British holdings in the Far East to pin down forces already there. At the same time, the Japanese hoped that the pact would provide security as they formulated plans to invade and capture the rich oilfields of the Netherlands East Indies. In response to the

Tripartite Pact, the United States embargoed even more material—brass, copper, and iron. Still, President Franklin D. Roosevelt stopped short of barring Japanese purchases of oil. By the spring of 1941, Japan signed a fiveyear nonaggression pact with Russia, assuring that her backdoor was closed and safe. Next, Japan moved more troops into French Indochina and began eyeing the Netherlands East Indies. In response to the troop movements, Roosevelt froze all Japanese assets in the United States and after much consideration finally placed an embargo on crude oil. On the heels of the American embargo, the

Dutch proclaimed that the Netherlands East Indies would also stop selling oil to Japan. To conquer the Netherlands East Indies and capture its vital oilfields, Japan first had to eliminate the British stronghold of Singapore, crush the American forces in the Philippines, and cripple the U.S. Pacific Fleet at Pearl Harbor. Within 24 hours on December 7, 1941, Japan launched attacks against Pearl Harbor, the Philippines, Singapore, Hong Kong, Northern Malaya, Thailand, Guam, Wake Island, and Midway Atoll and began planning to capture the island of Sumatra, east of Java, along with the oil refineries and a key airfield in the vicinity.

JAPANESE PARACHUTE FORCES MOUNTED AN ASSAULT ON THE ISLAND OF SUMATRA SOON AFTER PEARL HARBOR. BY GENE ERIC SALECKER

In this Japanese artist's rendering of the airborne landings on Sumatra, paratroopers descend into a field near Palembang. The island was captured quicky during operations conducted February 13-15, 1942.

Forward

OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

43

W-Oct16 Sumatra_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:14 AM Page 44

National Archives

A Japanese machine-gun crew fires at Chinese positions during action on the Asian continent. Japanese expansion in the 1930s began with aggression against China.

In December 1940, the Japanese Army began experimenting with airborne forces. Training of the first volunteers took place at Ichigaya near Tokyo. Requirements for the unit were rigid. Most of the volunteers were between the ages of 20 and 25, and officers could be no older than 28. All had to go through a rigid medical examination. Additional psychological and physical tests were administered and, acting on the belief that paratroopers had to have cat-like abilities to land safely, volunteers were given intense physical fitness training similar to that of a gymnast. After about 250 volunteers were selected, training moved to a Tokyo amusement park that had a special ride featuring a 165-foot parachute drop. Historians Gordan Rottman and Akira Takizawa wrote, “Thrill seekers were attached to a canopy that was hoisted by cable before being released to float to the ground. Because the existence of the paratroop unit was secret, trainees were directed to visit the park disguised as university students, to experience a couple of simulated descents.” Additional training consisted of somersaults and tumbling, leaping from various heights to learn landing techniques and, finally, actual jumps from moving planes. Once the original group of volunteers was sufficiently trained, it was broken into cadres to 44

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

absorb new trainees. By January 1942, the Army had enough paratroopers trained to form the 1st Raiding Brigade under Colonel Seiichi Kume consisting of the 1st Raiding Brigade Headquarters, the 1st Raiding Regiment (Major Takeo Takeda), and the 2nd Raiding Regiment (Major Takeo Komura). Additionally, the 1st Raiding Flying Regiment (Major Akihito Niihara), an air transport group, was attached to the brigade so that the paratroopers would have their own autonomous airplane group. Each regiment consisted of only about 700 men, rather than the 3,800 of a standard infantry regiment. Each regiment included a regimental headquarters group, three rifle companies, and an engineer company. Preparations for the Army parachute drop on Sumatra had actually been completed by late December 1941, but an accidental fire aboard the cargo ship Meiko Maru on January 3, 1942, which was transporting the 1st Raiding Regiment to an airfield on the Malay Peninsula, caused the paratroopers to abandon ship without their parachutes, equipment, and weapons. Exhausted and battered from their harrowing ordeal and stranded on Hainan Island off the northern coast of French Indochina, the paratroopers were in no shape to stage a combat parachute drop. When word of the disaster reached the Impe-

rial Army General Staff, they turned to Major Komura and his 2nd Raiding Regiment. Although the unit was still being organized, approximately 450 paratroopers drew weapons, equipment, and parachutes. On January 15, the understrength 2nd Raiding Regiment left Kyushu, arriving at Phnom Penh, Cambodia, on February 2. The 2nd Raiding Regiment was broken into the 1st and 2nd Attack Groups for the air assaults on the Palembang airfield and oil refineries. The 1st Attack Group, consisting of about 350 officers and men, would be transported to the area in the 1st Raiding Flying Regiment’s Tachikawa Type LO “Thelma” and Mitsubishi Ki-57 Type 100 Model 1 “Topsy” aircraft, with a scheduled drop on February 14. One day later, the 2nd Attack Group, containing only 90 officers and men, would be dropped by the 12th Transport Chutai. Inexplicably, the small cargo containers carrying the rifles, machine guns, ammunition, and other supplies would be dropped by the 98th Sentai from 27 twin-engine Mitsubishi Type 97 “Sally” medium bombers. This plan worried the paratroopers. “If the [containers] were misdropped or delayed,” wrote historians Rottman and Takizawa, “the paratroopers on the ground would be forced to fight a well-armed enemy with only pistols and grenades.” Both flights were to be escorted by Nakajima Ki-43 “Oscar” fighter planes from the 59th and 64th Sentai. Additionally, the initial drop would

W-Oct16 Sumatra_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:14 AM Page 45

be preceded by nine Kawasaki Ki-48 Type 99 “Lily” light bombers from the 90th Sentai dropping antipersonnel bombs across the Dutch airfield. By February 13, the entire attack force had moved from Cambodia to the west side of the Malay Peninsula, with the 1st Attack Group assembling at the recently captured Allied airfields at Keluang and Kahang and the 2nd Attack Group moving to Sungai Petani. Toasting each other with saké, the officers and men prepared for their early morning drop at Palembang, the capital of Sumatra. Palembang, with a population of more than 108,000, was situated on the Moesi River about 50 miles inland from the Banka Strait. It was said that its oilfields were the best in Southeast Asia. Two oil refineries had been constructed about four miles east of the town on the south side of the Moesi River. A tributary of the Moesi, the Komering River, divided the two refineries. On the east bank and farthest away from Palembang was the Nederlandsche Koloniale Petroleum Maatschappij (NKPM), a refinery for the Standard Oil Company. On the west bank was the Bataafsce Petroleum Maatschappij (BPM), owned by Shell Oil. The latter refinery was built as two separate installations, one opposite the NKPM refinery on the west side of the Komering River and the other a short distance away on the south bank of the Moesi River. Even though the Dutch could predict that the Japanese would want the two refineries intact, they did not intend to destroy the facilities prematurely. In addition to a well-known civilian airfield called Pangkalanbenteng (P1), eight miles north of Palembang, there was a recently constructed military airfield, Praboemoelih (P2), 40 miles to the south. P1 had been used by civilian aircraft for years and had a hard concrete runway, barracks buildings, and control tower. Unfortunately for the Dutch, P1 was well known to the Japanese. However, the newly established P2 had a cleverly concealed dirt runway with room beneath the surrounding jungle canopy to hide Allied airplanes. Because of its well-hidden location, P2 was unknown to the Japanese. The British Royal Air Force (RAF) had chosen Palembang as its headquarters on Sumatra. By the middle of January as the Japanese pushed closer, the RAF based a half dozen fighter and bomber squadrons at P1 and P2. Using the high-octane aviation fuel produced at the two refineries, the British pilots flew dozens of sorties against the rapidly advancing Japanese in the region. The entire area around Palembang was under

the command of Lt. Col. L.N.W. Vogelesang of the Royal Netherlands East Indies Army (KNIL) Territorial Command Dutch Sumatra. P1 was garrisoned by the South Sumatra Garrison Battalion, about 110 men, and two old armored cars. Since Japanese aircraft were shooting up more planes on the ground than personnel, there were more airmen than aircraft at P1. Subsequently, three officers and 72 grounded airmen of the RAF and Royal Australian Air Force (RAAF) were formed into a makeshift ground defense unit. Unfortunately, these men lacked the proper weapons and adequate training as riflemen. In the town of Palembang, Colonel Vogelesang had one Stadswacht/Landstorm (home guard/reserve) infantry company and eight stationary 75mm field guns. A machine-gun company of KNIL regulars was stationed at the oil refineries. Vogelesang lacked any antiaircraft guns to protect the airfields and refineries until two batteries of the 6th Heavy AA Regiment, Royal Artillery, and one battery of the 35th Light AA Regiment, Royal Artillery, with 16 heavy 3.7-inch AA guns and 16 40mm Bofors AA guns respectively arrived from Singapore on February 2. One troop of the heavy antiaircraft battery, about 150 men, with six 3.7-inch and six Bofors guns, was sent to P1. A battery from the 6th Regiment and the light antiaircraft battery were sent to P2 with six 3.7-inch and six Bofors guns. One last troop, with the remaining four 3.7-inch and four Bofors guns, was sent to protect the refineries. Unfortunately, the ship carrying most of the ammunition for the antiaircraft guns was sunk, limiting the ability of the two regiments to engage the enemy. To help defend the Palembang riverfront and the refinery docks, Colonel Vogelesang had one Royal Netherlands Navy minelayer, the HNLMS Pro Patria, and two patrol boats, the P-38 and P-40. All three vessels constantly patrolled the Moesi River with orders to contest any attempt by the Japanese to move up the river to Palembang. With everything in preparation, all the Dutch, British, and native defenders could do was sit and wait. The overall Japanese plan was for the 2nd Raiding Regiment to capture the only known airfield, P1, and the two refineries. The Japanese wanted to seize the refineries intact and prevent the destruction of the facilities. Accordingly, the 2nd Raiding Regiment Headquarters group (17 men under Major Komura), Signal Unit (30 men led by Lieutenant Komaki), 4th Rifle Company (97 men under Lieutenant Mitsuya), and the 3rd Platoon, 2nd Rifle Company (36 men commanded by Lieutenant Mizuno), a total of 180 men, would land three-quarters

of a mile southeast of the airfield. Another group, the 1st and 2nd Platoons, 2nd Rifle Company (60 men with Lieutenant Nobutaka Hirose in charge) would land one-eighth of a mile west of P1. Once on the ground, the two units (240 men) would move forward, envelop, and seize the airfield. At the same time, the 1st and 2nd Platoons from the 1st Rifle Company (60 men led by Lieutenant Kikuo Nakao) were to be dropped one-third of a mile west of the Shell Oil BPM facilities on the west side of the Komering River. Simultaneously, the 3rd Platoon, 1st Rifle Company (39 men under Lieutenant Hasebe) would land almost a half mile south of the Standard Oil NKPM facility on the east side of the Komering. After the entire 1st Attack Group was on the ground, Colonel Kume and some of his staff would crash-land a transport between the airfield and Palembang. Inside would be a 37mm antitank gun. Once everyone was on the ground, the paratroopers were to dash forward, seize the airfield and both oil facilities, and hang on until relieved by reinforcing units landing by sea and advancing up the Moesi River. Reinforcements for the understrength parachute regiment would come with an amphibious landing by the 229th Infantry Regiment and one battalion from the 230th Infantry Regiment, both from the 38th Infantry Division. As planned, the infantrymen would land at the mouth of the Moesi River on barges and charge upriver to Palembang. Until they arrived, which was expected to take two days, the paratroopers’ only immediate reinforcements would come from the 2nd Attack Force —90 men under Lieutenant Ryo Morisawa from the 3rd Company. These few men were scheduled to be parachuted onto P1 on the second day. Even then, the 2nd Raiding Regiment would be hard pressed to hold its assigned objectives until the infantry arrived. On February 10, a British reconnaissance plane spotted the invasion convoy north of Banka Island and guessed correctly that it was headed toward Palembang. Throughout the next few days and nights, the British repeatedly attacked the Japanese ships, and by February 14, the Dutch, British, and native Sumatrans around Palembang were well aware of the intention of the Japanese. At first light, 15 Hawker Hurricane fighters, the only serviceable planes at P1, took off to escort a couple of flights of RAF bombers from P2 for attacks against the fast-approaching Japanese convoy. The transports containing the 2nd Raiding Regiment paratroopers began taking off from the Malay airfields around 8:30 AM. In all, 150 OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

45

W-Oct16 Sumatra_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:14 AM Page 46

planes were on their way for the air assault on Sumatra. While the flight was still 100 miles from Palembang, the Japanese were spotted by an Allied observation post, and word was immediately relayed to P1. Air Commander S.F. Vincent, in charge of one of the RAF squadrons at P1, immediately “arranged for the airfield defense officer to be warned to expect a paratroop assault, ordering that rifles and ammunition be issued forthwith.” Unfortunately for the RAF personnel, there were not enough rifles to pass around. Only about 60 airmen actually received weapons and positioned themselves to help the 200 KNIL regulars defend the airfield. At 11:20 AM, almost three hours after takeoff, the Japanese planes had reached the mouth of the Moesi River. Following the river and flying almost due south, the planes flew quietly

at 11:26 AM and began dropping Major Komura’s 180 paratroopers southeast of the airfield. At almost the same time, six more transports began dropping the 60 men from the 1st and 2nd Platoons of the 2nd Rifle Company west of the airfield. A flight of 15 Hurricanes and a handful of Lockheed Hudson bombers that had just attacked the Japanese invasion convoy in the north suddenly arrived over the airfield. Coming in at high altitude through dense clouds, the British pilots spotted the enemy below them. While the bombers continued toward P2, the fighters, although low on fuel, immediately dove to the attack. Coming out of the clouds, Pilot Officer Bill Lockwood and his wingman aimed for the leading Sally. Swooping in fast, Lockwood shot up the bomber, which was carrying some of the cargo containers. Pulling up sharply, Lockwood

Glasshouse Images / Alamy Stock Photo

Dutch pilots on Sumatra prepare for flight operations against the Japanese in early 1942. Most aerial opposition was eliminated early in their campaign to capture the island.

past some outbound British bombers, never veering from their intended destinations. As the Japanese planes drew closer to both objectives, the British antiaircraft batteries at both the airfield and the oil refineries opened fire. A shell exploded in the breach of one of the Bofors antiaircraft guns, killing one man outright and wounding several others. After the 90th Sentai bombers carpeted the airfield and barracks buildings, the Japanese fighters began strafing the area. While the fighters and bombers were engaged directly over the airfield, 18 transports flew in at about 600 feet 46

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

and his wingman leveled out and ran smack into a torrential rainstorm. By the time they got out of it, they were well past the airfield and had to follow the Moesi River back to Palembang. Nearing P1 a second time, Lockwood spotted a number of “white objects” on the ground and reasoned that Japanese paratroopers were in the midst of an attack. When he saw a red Very flare fired from P1 warning him not to land, Lockwood and his wingman flew on to P2. The group of paratroopers landing southeast of the airfield was dropped about two miles away from P1 into an area covered with small

trees. Supplies were scattered, and with some men armed only with the pistol and hand grenades they carried during the drop, the disorganized paratroopers began moving in small isolated groups toward the airfield. One planeload of paratroopers, members of the 4th Rifle Company led by Lieutenant Minoru Okumoto, was supposed to land at the southeast drop zone but had a jammed door and did not get out of their plane in time. Instead, the paratroopers came down more than four miles south of the drop zone, near the main road that led from Palembang to the airfield. Moving quickly, Okumoto gathered four other men, all that he could find, and armed only with pistols and grenades began making his way north along the road to P1. During their movement, they cut the telephone lines between the airfield and town. Meanwhile, west of the airfield the 60 men of the 1st and 2nd Platoons, 2nd Rifle Company under Lieutenant Hirose came down in dense, six-foot high reeds, although aerial photographs had indicated the area to be flat and covered with low grasses. Unable to find their cargo containers, small groups of paratroopers began making their way east toward the airfield, again armed only with pistols and hand grenades. Although Lieutenant Hirose could locate only two other men, he pushed on toward P1. When the Japanese planes finally flew away, the Dutch and British defenders dug in, refusing to yield even an inch to the attacking Japanese. Ground and air crew personnel that had not gotten rifles removed Browning machine guns from unserviceable planes and set them up on mounds of earth. At the same time, the 3.7-inch and Bofors antiaircraft crews leveled their weapons and began to fire horizontally over open sights. For the next hour or so, the defenders fought the first few Japanese that managed to reach the airfield. Widely scattered by the drop, many of the paratroopers arrived in ones or twos or in small groups. Some, after apparently retrieving their rifles from the scattered cargo containers, climbed into trees on the south side of the airfield and began sniping at the antiaircraft gun crews. After the snipers had been dispersed, things became eerily quiet at the airfield. Most of the paratroopers had landed a few miles away from the field and were having a hard time gathering their things, coming together, and making their way toward P1. Taking advantage of the calm before the expected storm and realizing that the jig was up, a group of Dutch officers, who had been unable to reach headquarters at Palem-

W-Oct16 Sumatra_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:14 AM Page 47

Gordon L. Rottman/Akira Takizawa

bang because of the cut telephone wires, decided to throw in the towel and began pulling the 200 widely spaced defenders out of P1. While some of the men prepared to set fire to a stack of 44-gallon drums of aviation fuel and others were making preparations to destroy the unserviceable planes, the British artillerymen began the removal of their antiaircraft guns. Unfortunately, only one prime mover vehicle was available so only two guns could be moved. After sabotaging the other guns, most of the crews started down the road to Palembang while two crews began the process of moving the remaining two 3.7-inch antiaircraft guns. Although a few carloads of retiring officers and men managed to escape from P1 via the main road leading south to Palembang, it was not long before the other vehicles were being fired upon by Lieutenant Okumoto and his small group of men who had been dropped far south of the airfield because of the jammed door. With his numbers now up to about 20 men, Okumoto laid in ambush around a curve in the road about four miles south of the airfield and waited. In no time a six-wheel truck came along and was immediately attacked with hand grenades and pistol fire, which succeeded in overturning the vehicle and creating a roadblock. The next vehicle to come down the road was driven by Johnny Johnson, RAF. As he drove around the corner and spotted the overturned truck, he was attacked by Okumoto’s men. Although Johnson managed to get out of his vehicle and return fire with a revolver from a roadside ditch—reportedly hitting at least two paratroopers—he eventually ran out of ammunition and had to surrender. The Japanese commander then relieved Johnson of his revolver and shot him in the thigh, presumably to prevent his escape. Then, when it looked as though the other paratroopers were going to kill him, another vehicle was heard approaching from the direction of P1. After scattering into the roadside ditches, the Japanese, with Johnson in tow, opened fire when the vehicle came into view. Full of RAF personnel, the car was hit by pistol fire and rocked by hand grenades, and it too flipped over, adding to the impromptu roadblock. A few of the RAF men were killed, but at least four were injured and captured. All four were quickly shot and killed by the Japanese paratroopers. By the time the next few vehicles reached the roadblock, the evacuation from P1 was well underway. Although one vehicle managed to get safely through the growing roadblock, the others, including a fuel truck, did not. Hit with hand grenades, the fuel truck skidded out of control and flipped onto its side. Although the

In preparation for their airborne assault on Palembang and the island of Sumatra, Japanese airborne troops of the 2nd Raiding Regiment don their parachutes. The airdrop on Sumatra was one of only a few such Japanese operations mounted during the Pacific War.

truck did not explode, one man was trapped underneath and the large vehicle added another obstacle in the middle of the road. Men from the other vehicles leaped out of the trucks and sought shelter in the jungle or in the ditches alongside the road. Those few evacuees with guns began firing back at the Japanese. Meanwhile, the Dutch soldiers in Palembang were trying to organize reinforcements for P1. After gathering three truckloads of Dutch troops and an RAF van filled with food, Air Commander S.F. Vincent and his driver jumped into their own vehicle and led the convoy north toward P1. After going about nine miles they came around the bend in the road and ran smack into the enemy roadblock. Immediately, they came under fire. Although the van with the food supplies ended up in a ditch, the other trucks hurriedly turned around and fled back to Palembang without firing a shot. Wrote Commander Vincent, “I was disgusted and ashamed.” Near noon, another attempt was made to reinforce the airfield when two armored cars and four troop trucks carrying about 150 Dutch soldiers approached the impromptu roadblock from Palembang. By this time, more Japanese paratroopers had come out of the jungle to reinforce Lieutenant Okumoto. When the Dutch convoy drew near the overturned fuel truck, the Japanese attacked with a fusillade of grenades, pistol fire, and fire from captured rifles. Taken completely by surprise, most of the KNIL soldiers abandoned their vehicles and fled back toward town, except for one of the armored car crews and one truckload of soldiers. In the ensuing firefight, two Japanese

paratroopers were killed and Lieutenant Okumoto was wounded. Still, the Japanese somehow managed to hold the roadblock, force the remaining Dutch to flee, and capture the armored car. Shortly after 1:30 PM, Major Komura, who had been dropped to the southeast, arrived at the roadblock with about 25 men of the 4th Rifle Company. Komura decided that the roadblock should be maintained to stop any reinforcements from coming north from Palembang or catch any evacuees fleeing south from P1. Utilizing the captured armored car, Komura sent Lieutenant Ooki and 20 men north along the road toward P1 to capture the Dutch airfield office, situated about a mile south of the airdrome, while he positioned the rest of his men to defend the roadblock. As planned, Colonel Kume’s transport, carrying his staff and a 37mm antitank gun and crew, had crash-landed several miles southeast of P1 shortly after the other paratroopers had landed. Unfortunately, the plane came down in a soggy woodland. Bogged down, wet, bitten by mosquitoes, and separated from most of his men, Kume would spend a sleepless night trying to get out of the quagmire. After advancing only about three miles toward P1, Lieutenant Ooki and his armored car group ran into 300 Dutch soldiers and British airmen fleeing from the airfield. The evacuation of P1 was now completely underway. Opening fire with the captured armored car and side arms, the Japanese paratroopers surprised the fleeing men and began to push them back. At about the same time, groups of OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

47

W-Oct16 Sumatra_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:14 AM Page 48

Naval History and Heritage Command

As their parachutes billow in the wind, Japanese paratroopers of the 2nd Raiding Regiment plummet toward their landing zones near the town of Palembang on Sumatra, February 1942.

other paratroopers, some from the southeastern group and some from the western group, finally made it to the airfield and joined the attack. On the west side, Lieutenant Gamo from the 2nd Rifle Company had managed to gather 16 men and push eastward toward the airdrome. Although the men were armed only with pistols and grenades, they did not hesitate to attack when they finally reached the edge of the airfield. Spotting a British antiaircraft position, Lieutenant Gamo threw a grenade and dashed forward. He was killed almost instantly. The other paratroopers, undaunted, continued to press the attack, although somewhat more cautiously than their leader. The commander of the 2nd Rifle Company, Lieutenant Hirose, along with the only two men he could find, finally reached the airfield around 2 PM. Moving cautiously, Hirose and his men were slowly advancing toward a Dutch barracks when they suddenly spotted about 300 Dutch troops, perhaps the same men that were being attacked by Lieutenant Ooki and his armored car group. Overwhelmingly outnumbered, Hirose wisely pulled his two men back and slipped quietly into the surrounding jungle. 48

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

Back at the roadblock, things had begun to heat up again. Dutch troops and armed RAF personnel from Palembang had driven up close to the roadblock before parking their trucks to engage the enemy on foot. Creeping up through the jungle until they could see the Japanese, the Allied troops began sniping at Major Komura’s and Lieutenant Okumoto’s men. At the same time, a small group started to work their way closer, intent on setting the overturned fuel truck on fire. As the men neared the truck, they were informed by a few wounded Allied soldiers that a surviving RAF man was still trapped under the vehicle. While they discussed what to do, Japanese mortar rounds began to fall around them and enemy machine-gun fire began to tear up the trees. Making a hasty decision, the group abandoned their plan and fled into a nearby swamp. Eventually, the Dutch and RAF riflemen got the upper hand at the roadblock and managed to chase Major Komura and the others away. Unfortunately, they were too late for the RAF trooper who had been trapped under the fuel truck. By the time the rescue group reached him, he had long since expired. By now it was after 6 PM, and Lieutenant

Ooki’s 20 paratroopers and captured armored car had managed to chase away the 300 Dutch and RAF defenders and capture the airfield office. Leaving a few men behind to guard the office, Ooki sent the armored car back toward the roadblock to inform Major Komura of his success while he took the rest of his men north toward the airfield. At the roadblock, Flying Officer Macnamara, who had successfully fled from P1, and the others were milling about when the captured armored car suddenly appeared. “We naturally thought that the Dutch had at last broken through to our relief,” Macnamara recalled, “but after many had revealed themselves from the side of the road they were greeted with hand grenades.” Instantly realizing that the car was in Japanese hands, the Allied riflemen opened fire, causing the driver to crash into the other vehicles of the roadblock. “The Japanese,” Macnamara continued, “knowing their game was up ... tried to make a break—a volley of fire from small arms—rifles and revolvers—greeted their exit from the turret.” Perhaps realizing that the airfield might be under Japanese control, a small group of armed British airmen headed toward P1 and soon came upon the captured airfield office and the four or five Japanese paratroopers who had been left behind to guard it. A prolonged fire-

W-Oct16 Sumatra_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:14 AM Page 49

fight then took place until about 20 Dutch reinforcements, one armed with a Bren gun, arrived and helped to overrun the hotly contested strongpoint. In the meantime, at the airfield the paratroopers continued to arrive from their scattered drop zones and engage the defenders. By late afternoon most of the Allied defenders had either abandoned the airfield or been killed. Only about 60 armed RAF men and a few Dutch soldiers remained. Although they were running out of ammunition, they hung on stubbornly. RAF ground crewman Leslie Baker recalled, “[The] RAF ground crew were ready for them and the RAF lads stuck to their posts mowing down the Japs as they landed. We did, the RAF ALONE. [We] mopped up the Jap parachutists but not before we had had quite a few killed.... [It] made a mess of our aerodrome….” The prime mover vehicle that had been attempting to pull two 3.7-inch antiaircraft guns to safety reached the main road leading to Palembang before it came under Japanese fire. “Unfortunately,” wrote a U.S. Army historian, “one of these [guns] had to be abandoned on the way, since light machine-gun fire had riddled the tires.” In fact, none of the antiaircraft guns made it out of P1. All 12 guns, most of them disabled by their crews, were captured by the paratroopers. During a slight lull in the fighting, Wing Commander H.J. Maguire and Platoon Officer O.D. Creegan thought they heard troops on the road to Palembang and, imagining them to be Dutch reinforcements, hurried down the road to greet them. Instead, they met 60 to 70 Japanese soldiers assembling in the roadway. Knowing that they could not overwhelm the enemy by themselves, Maguire and Creegan decided to bluff their way out. The two officers put down their guns and then walked up to the nearest Japanese soldier. “He looked very surprised but did nothing,” Maguire recalled. “So, sounding as confident as I could, I demanded to see his officer and, to my amazement, he shambled off and produced an officer. This officer had some command of English, and I immediately demanded surrender, saying that I had a large force behind me. He replied that he had a large force and that he would give us safe conduct if we marched out.” Continuing with their bluff, Maguire and Creegan said that they would have to discuss a possible surrender of the Allied command with their “non-existent senior officer” and then, turning around, walked back to their guns, picked them up, and walked calmly back to the airfield. When the two officers arrived at P1, they dis-

covered that the remaining handful of men had taken advantage of the lull in the fighting to set the fuel dump on fire and burn the remains of a few unserviceable aircraft. Then, using what few trucks remained, the 60 or so stalwart defenders had beaten a hasty retreat to the north, taking the road to Djambi. Maguire and Creegan quickly followed. By 5 PM, P1 was completely devoid of Allied personnel. When Lieutenant Hirose and his three men finally came out of hiding on the west side of the airfield and approached the same barracks that they had approached before, they found it completely deserted. Looking around, they found cooked rations still on the stove, a fortunate happenstance since they had been unable to locate their drop containers and had only rice wafers and dried compressed fish with them. An hour later, Major Komura, who had been gathering small groups of paratroopers into larger groups throughout the day, finally arrived at the airfield. Everything was quiet. The Allies had all fled or been killed. By the time darkness fell, P1 was in the hands of perhaps 100 army paratroopers of the 2nd Raiding Regiment. At 11:30 AM on February 14, 1942, six minutes after the paratroopers began dropping on P1, six Thelma transports began dropping Lieutenant Nakao and his 60 men from the 1st and 2nd Platoons, 1st Rifle Company on the west side of the Komering River close to the Shell Oil BPM facilities. At about the same time, the three Thelmas carrying Lieutenant Hasebe and his 39 paratroopers from the 3rd Platoon, 1st Rifle Company began dropping the men on the east side of the Komering, south of the Standard Oil NKPM facility. Although the Bofors and 3.7-inch antiaircraft guns at the oil refineries fired on the planes, all of the transports escaped unscathed. One of nine Mitsubishi G4M “Betty” bombers carrying cargo containers was shot out of the sky. Unlike the paratroopers at P1 who landed among jungle trees or tall reedy grass that made it difficult to find their cargo containers, Lieutenant Nakao’s men landed in a shallow marshland and located their weapons and supplies with little difficulty. Moving quickly toward the closest section of the BPM refinery near the junction of the Moesi and Komering Rivers, one group of six men led by platoon commander Lieutenant Tokunaga managed to overrun a pillbox at the southwest corner of the facility. Moving forward, the seven men worked their way into the refinery residential area before running into about 60 Dutch soldiers armed with machine guns. Tokunaga and his men

quickly sought cover and opened fire. While Lieutenant Tokunaga was pushing into the refinery, Lieutenants Ogawa and Yosioka were gathering groups of scattered troopers. Once enough men were at hand, the paratroopers followed Lieutenant Tokunaga and caught up with him during the firefight in the residential area. While Tokunaga kept the Dutch occupied, Ogawa and Yosioka took about a dozen men and climbed to the top of the central topping tower, raising the Rising Sun flag sometime between 1:10 and 1:50 PM, about two hours after landing. Down below, Lieutenant Tokunaga and the paratroopers, who had since been joined by Lieutenant Nakao, commander of the 1st Rifle Company, saw the Japanese flag go up and began to work their way toward the central topping tower. As they moved forward, they hurriedly shut valves, turned cranks, and removed demolition charges placed by the Dutch when they first saw the paratroopers descending. By the time the Japanese raised the flag over the topping tower, the Dutch and British had gathered enough men to stage a counterattack. The Japanese paratroopers, using the oil refinery air raid shelters as pillboxes, put up stiff resistance. Fighting raged across the compound with the combatants sometimes only 50 yards apart. Fuel pipes were punctured by bullets, and the thick, black, crude oil spilled forth. When an Allied mortar round impacted some of the spilled oil, the whole area burst into flames, sending black smoke billowing into the afternoon sky. Determined to hold onto their hard-earned prize as the sun began to go down, Commander Nakao ordered Lieutenant Tokunaga to take his platoon and attack northward across the refinery, perhaps hoping to get a toehold in the separated portion of the BPM refinery along the Moesi River. Although they put up a spirited fight, Tokunaga lost a score of men and only managed to move up a short distance. When night finally fell and the bright orange flames of the burning oil fires cast eerie shadows about the area, the Dutch and British soldiers had retaken most of the BPM refinery. Nevertheless, some of the 1st and 2nd Platoons of the 1st Rifle Company and the 2nd Raiding Regiment were still alive. With the paratroopers holding onto vital sections of the plants, Allied demolition teams found that they could not permanently destroy the areas they wanted to. Unable to destroy the facility, the Dutch and British soldiers quietly slipped away in the darkness. Meanwhile, the 3rd Platoon, 1st Rifle ComOCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

49

W-Oct16 Sumatra_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:14 AM Page 50

pany, led by Lieutenant Hasebe, had landed in a deep swamp on the east side of the Komering River, south of the Standard Oil NKPM facility. Two men, carrying only their pistols and a few hand grenades, landed in front of a Dutch gun position. Stripping off their parachute harnesses and covering smocks, the two soldiers attacked, killing eight startled defenders. Continuing on, they climbed out of the swamp and onto a road that ran straight toward the refinery. As they drew near, however, the defenders opened fire, wounding one of the men. Helped along by his comrade, the two attackers retreated down the road to await the rest of the 3rd Platoon. Meanwhile, Lieutenant Hasebe had managed to get hold of a native boat and was able to move about quickly, gathering his platoon and their cargo containers. When they got to the

other side of the Komering River, Tanba and his paratroopers crept forward. Unexpectedly, they found the facility completely deserted. The NKPM defenders had slipped away under the cover of darkness. Throughout the night, the paratroopers at P1 and the two oil refineries consolidated their gains while they waited for reinforcements. At dawn on February 15, 1942, Japanese troops of the 229th Infantry Regiment, 38th Infantry Division began disembarking from the transport ships that had moved up the Moesi River delta. The escort planes flying over the ships had fought off repeated attacks by Dutch and British planes. As the troops scampered aboard waiting landing barges, preparatory to moving up the river, the covering task force moved back out to sea to engage a converging Allied task force.

Ullstein Bild / The Granger Collection, NY

road running through the swamp toward the oil refinery, Hasebe quickly surmised that the road would be a killing zone. Unable to move successfully through the swamp, Hasebe had no other choice but to try to rush forward along the dangerous avenue. Piling out of the swamp, Hasebe and his men rushed toward the front gate of the oil refinery and got within 100 yards before Hasebe and a few others were killed by enemy fire. Without their leader, the Japanese attack stalled. Taking over, Sergeant Tanba called off the frontal assault and led the surviving men back into the swamp, hoping to move forward again under the cover of darkness. At 11 PM, when darkness finally fell and the only light came from the flames of the burning BPM refinery on the 50

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

As the barges and some supporting vessels moved south down the Moesi River toward Palembang, the RAF and RAAF came out to meet them. Throughout the day, the two air forces made repeated attacks against the barges, although Japanese fighters were always there to try to intercept them. An estimated 20 barges were sunk, but there were just too many of them. In the end, the RAF and RAAF pilots were ordered to evacuate Sumatra and go to Java. At Palembang an evacuation had been going on all night. Although the Japanese roadblock near P1 had finally been cleared, the Japanese still held the airfield and had snipers and outposts along the approaching road. Not too far from Palembang, on the road to the airfield,

the Dutch had established their own roadblock, intent on stopping the Japanese paratroopers from making a sudden dash into the city. All night long and all the next day, both military and civilian personnel evacuated Palembang, burning things they could not carry and then being ferried across the Moesi to a train station and a safe road on the south side of the river. At dawn, as the evacuees looked behind them they could see a thick black cloud of smoke hanging over the city, stark evidence of the burning buildings and BPM Oil Refinery. At the two refineries, the remaining Japanese paratroopers listened to the Palembang evacuation all night long. Then, near 6 AM a time-delayed Dutch demolition charge exploded at the NKPM refinery. Unable to prevent further explosions and the spread of the resulting fire, Sergeant Tanba and his handful of 3rd Platoon, 1st Rifle Company paratroopers now knew why the facility had been completely abandoned. In the end, about 80 percent of the Standard Oil NKPM facility was destroyed. At P1 all remained relatively quiet throughout most of the morning of February 15. Then, at 10:30 AM a Japanese scout plane from Keluang Airfield in Malaya suddenly swooped down and landed on the concrete runway. Immediately, Major Komura informed the pilot that although the airfield was in Japanese hands most of the cargo containers had been lost during the air drop and his men were fighting with either pistols or captured weapons, both short on ammunition. The intrepid pilot flew straight back to Keluang. His report was the first news that the combat drop on P1 had been successful, since all of the 2nd Raiding Regiment’s radios had been lost with their cargo containers. Within minutes, additional weapons and ammunition were added to the reinforcing parachute drop scheduled for 1 PM. Near noon, a mosquito-bitten Colonel Kume and his handful of staff members finally made their way out of the soggy woodland and over to P1. Undoubtedly, he was happy to see the progress that had been made in his absence. An hour later and right on schedule, the planes of the 2nd Attack Group, the reinforcing paratroop drop, arrived over the Palembang airfield. As the Oscar fighters from the 59th and 64th Sentai flew combat patrol overhead, the Thelmas of the 12th Transport Chutai began dropping the 90 men of Lieutenant Morisawa’s 3rd Rifle Company directly onto the captured airfield. Close behind, the crews of the 98th Sentai began dropping dozens of cargo containers from their Betty bombers. When the second air drop was over and the

Gordon L. Rottman/Akira Takizawa

W-Oct16 Sumatra_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:14 AM Page 51

ABOVE: Japanese officers of the 2nd Raiding Regiment and the 229th Infantry Regiment greet one another at the gates of the NKPM oil refinery during the last stages of the conquest of Sumatra. The Japanese coveted the rich natural resources of the Dutch East Indies. OPPOSITE: Additional Japanese troops landed by sea during the invasion of Sumatra in February 1942. In this photo Japanese soldiers approach the Sumatran coast as oil fields but in the distance.

precious weapons and ammunition had been distributed, Colonel Kume sent a platoon under Lieutenant Adachi toward Palembang. Moving cautiously, the paratroopers followed the main road past both their own roadblock and the hastily abandoned Dutch roadblock. Arriving at the capital around 5:30 PM, they found the town undefended and parts of Palembang on fire. Moving down to the river to see if the 229th Infantry Regiment barges were in sight, the men happened upon the two Dutch patrol boats, the P-39 and the P-40. They quickly disabled one of the boats, but the other fled upriver. Upon discovering that Palembang was unguarded, Lieutenant Adachi sent the information back to Colonel Kume, who ordered

Lieutenant Morisawa to take his newly dropped 3rd Rifle Company into Palembang to secure the town. By early evening, Lieutenant Morisawa was in contact with the soldiers holding the two oil refineries. That evening, February 15, protected by darkness, the landing barges carrying the 229th Infantry Regiment finally reached Palembang. Waiting there to greet them were the army paratroopers of the 2nd Raiding Regiment. Five days later, the proud paratroopers handed over control of the capital of Sumatra to the 38th Infantry Division. After all was settled, the 2nd Raiding Regiment reviewed the past few days. The paratroopers claimed that they had killed 1,080 Dutch and RAF defenders and captured a total

of 23 antiaircraft guns, several armored cars, and numerous trucks. Of course, these figures are much exaggerated. On the other hand, the Japanese admitted that during the initial combat drop one medium bomber was shot down either by antiaircraft fire or by Pilot Officer Lockwood while two transport planes were crash landed, one intentionally. Out of 339 paratroopers dropped, 29 were killed (two died due to parachute malfunction), 37 were seriously wounded, and 11 were slightly wounded, a loss of roughly 23 percent. The 2nd Raiding Regiments’ attack on P1 and the two oil refineries has been deemed both a success and a failure by historians. In October 1942, a brief intelligence document was published by the U.S. Army that labeled the attack a failure. The report stated that the Japanese “jumped from about 70 transport planes,” a gross exaggeration. The report continued, “A total of about 300 attacked defending troops at the airdrome, and about 400 sought to capture the refineries. Nearly all the parachutists were killed or captured, except a group which managed to hold one of the refineries and prevent it from being destroyed. The other refinery was demolished by the Dutch. On the whole, the attack was a failure.” Two other Army reports, one published in 1942 and another in 1945, continued to inflate the number of Japanese attackers and repeat that the attack had failed to achieve its objective of capturing the oil refineries intact. As time went by, however, historians began to study the attack and correct most of the inaccuracies. In no time at all, Japanese tankers were carrying the vital refined oil back to their home islands. In spite of their success, the army paratroopers saw no further combat on Sumatra. The 38th Infantry Division, with the help of Japanese bombers and fighters flying out of P1, continued to advance across southern Sumatra and by February 24 had secured much of the island. By the beginning of March, most of the remaining Dutch defenders had fled into the northwestern part of the island and were conducting a guerrilla war. On March 28, 1942, some 2,000 Dutch troops surrendered to the 38th Infantry Division. The island of Sumatra was securely in Japanese hands. Gene Eric Salecker is a retired university police office who teaches eighth grade social studies in Bensenville, Illinois. He is the author of four books, including Blossoming Silk Against the Rising Sun: US and Japanese Paratroopers in the Pacific in World War II. He resides in River Grove, Illinois. OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

51

W-Aug16 Maleme_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:10 AM Page 52

Mishap at Maleme BY JON DIAMOND

52

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

W-Aug16 Maleme_Layout 1 8/8/16 12:29 PM Page 53

A SERIES OF MISTAKES COST THE BRITISH DEARLY IN THE DEFENSE OF A CRITICAL AIRFIELD DURING THE GERMAN OFFENSIVE AGAINST THE ISLAND OF CRETE.

B

RIGADIER LESLIE ANDREW, VC, DSO, was born in New Zealand on March 24, 1897. He served his country and the British Empire during both world wars. Due to an authorized tactical withdrawal that he made as a lieutenant colonel commanding the 22nd New Zealand Battalion defending the Maleme airfield and surrounding perimeter on the island of Crete on May 20, 1941, numerous histories have linked his name and Australiam War Memorial action as, perhaps, the turning point of the entire battle as German paratroopers took over the airfield early on May 21, resulting in the loss of the island to the enemy 11 days later. However, a fresh look at the critical events surrounding Andrew’s “heat of battle” decision as well as those of his superiors and fellow battalion commanders raises some points of discussion. Andrew volunteered for the New Zealand Expeditionary Force in 1916 and later that year embarked for Egypt as a private in the Wellington Infantry Regiment. He first saw action and was wounded on the Somme, at Flers-Courcelette in September 1916. Made a corporal, he fought at Messines in ABOVE: Brigadier Leslie Andrew photographed after June 1917. At Passchendaele in World War II. His decision to withdraw from posiJuly 1917, Andrew, leading two tions on Crete has been controversial for decades. infantry sections, destroyed a LEFT: A German combat artist captured this surreal image of the fallschirmjager drop on the island of German-machine-gun nest. Crete. Operation Mercury was a costly victory that Eyeing another machine-gun secured Crete for the Nazis but prompted Hitler to position, Andrew, on his own suspend large-scale airborne operations for the durainitiative, attacked and cap- tion of the war. tured it. Andrew and another man continued to scout forward, encountering a third machine-gun post, which they destroyed with hand grenades, and returned to report on enemy dispositions. For his leadership and bravery, Andrew was awarded the Victoria Cross (VC) on July 31, 1917, at La Bassée, France, and promoted to sergeant. In early 1918, while in England for officer training, he was commissioned a second lieutenant. During the interwar period, Andrew held a number of posts and was made captain in 1937. When World War II erupted, Andrew was sent to England in May 1940 as commander of the 22nd Battalion, 5th Infantry Brigade, 2nd New Zealand Division. In March 1941, Andrew’s battalion first went to Egypt and then Greece, but after the debacle on the Peloponnese, his troops were evacuated to Crete in April 1941, becoming part of Commanding General Bernard Freyberg’s Creforce.

U.S. Army Art Collection

AUGUST 2016 WWII HISTORY

53

W-Aug16 Maleme_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:10 AM Page 54

The 5th Infantry Brigade, composed of the 21st, 22nd, 23rd, and 28th (Maori) Infantry Battalions, was commanded by Brigadier James Hargest with his headquarters at Platanias, east of Maleme airfield. The 21st Battalion was holding an inland sector, Vineyard Ridge, while the 23rd Battalion’s area was north, extending toward the island’s only northern coastal road. Andrew’s 22nd Battalion was given the onerous task of defending a five-mile perimeter at the most western tip of the Allied line on Crete, which included the Maleme airfield, Hill 107 south of the airfield, the village of Pirgos on the northern coast road, and the eastern bank of the Tavronitis riverbed. Along with two other airfields further east on the northern coast of the island, Retimo and Heraklion, Maleme had

ridge) just to the southeast of Hill 107. C Company’s three platoons were disposed around the perimeter of the airfield extending to the Tavronitis road bridge. D Company held the east bank of the Tavronitis from and including the road bridge south to a point just southwest of Hill 107. About a mile south, also on the east bank of the Tavronitis, was a platoon of the 21st Battalion. Two 3-inch mortars covered the airfield but lacked baseplates and were both short of ammunition. In the battalion perimeter but not under Andrew’s direct command were 10 (six mobile and four static) Bofors guns sited around the airfield, two 3-inch antiaircraft guns near Hill 107, and two 4-inch naval guns of the Royal Marines on Hill 107’s

Both: Australiam War Memorial

In this painting by a combat artist from New Zealand, the bodies of German airborne troops who fell under the guns of Commonwealth defenders while exiting their glider lie in the broiling Mediterranean sun. The capture of Crete cost the Germans dearly in lives and aircraft.

to be held at all costs if Creforce was to be successful against the anticipated German airborne assault and possible seaborne landing scheduled for May 20. Hill 107 was a prominent defensive position covering the entirety of Maleme airfield and the Royal Air Force (RAF) camp there. Andrew’s 22nd Battalion, with 20 officers and 600 other ranks at the battle’s start, consisted of battalion HQ atop Hill 107 and five rifle companies (A, B, C, D) and Headquarters Company, at Pirgos, which fought as a rifle company. The battalion reserve was Platoon A of Battalion HQ with two Matilda “I” tanks hidden north of the HQ ready for counterattack. Atop Hill 107, A Company occupied the high ground central to the battalion’s position. B Company held the ridge (to be subsequently referred to as RAP 54

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

forward slopes above D Company’s right center. The heavier ordnance pieces were sited for coastal defense and were ineffective against low-flying troop carriers. The 5th Brigade’s battle plan called for Colonel D.F. Leckie’s 23rd Battalion to hold its positions and support Andrew if called upon by flare signal. The 23rd Battalion’s casualties were light because its positions were under cover from aerial bombardments before and during the attack. Colonel J.M. Allen’s 21st Battalion, much understrength from losses in Greece, was instructed to choose one of three options when the attack began: to move to the Tavronitis, to replace 23rd Battalion if it moved to support Andrew, or to stand where it was. On May 20, beginning at 0800 hours, about 40 German gliders landed at the mouth of the

Tavronitis and farther up the stony riverbed. These glidermen were to use the riverbed’s terrain to start their attacks on the airfield after crossing the road bridge. C Company, positioned around the airfield, engaged the Germans. D Company, overlooking the riverbed, wreaked havoc on the glider troops with accurate small-arms fire. Despite the casualties and steady New Zealander gunfire, Major Franz Braun of the Luftlandsturmregiment’s HQ was able to get his men across the riverbed on either side of the bridge. His superior, Brig. Gen. Eugen Meindl, observed that the line along the Tavronitis was not reinforced (containing only Andrew’s D Company), and he sent his II Battalion on a flanking movement to take Hill 107. Meindl knew the strategic importance of seizing the airfield and occupying Hill 107 to enable subsequent landing by air of German reinforcements to sustain the attack. A critical sequence of events, which many believe represent the turning point of the entire 11-day battle, occurred during the afternoon and night of May 20, ultimately leading to the withdrawal of the 22nd New Zealand Battalion from Hill 107 during the early morning hours of May 21. Shortly into the attack, Andrew’s command post telephone lines to brigade HQ at Platanias and his companies were cut by bombs, rendering him unaware of the status of C and D Companies, which lacked wireless sets. Andrew had a wireless set that communicated solely to brigade HQ, and he informed Hargest’s staff at 1055 hours that contact with his forward C and D Companies had become disrupted. He could not make good visual contact with these forward companies through the bamboo thickets, olive groves, and a vineyard. Andrew’s runners were ineffective because of marauding German Messerschmitt Me-109 fighters. From the outset, Andrew could not operate his battalion as a unit. As noon approached, the German airborne troops near the Tavronitis bridge broke through between C and D Companies and overran the RAF camp. Andrew sent up flares, the prearranged signal, to call for the 23rd Battalion’s support, but they went unseen because of the dust and smoke. At 1140 hours, the 23rd Battalion commander reported to brigade HQ, “Area well under control.” At 1345 hours, 21st Battalion reported to Hargest that its situation was satisfactory. Fifteen minutes later, Captain Dawson, a brigade staff officer, entered in his journal, “Meanwhile all things were confused but we did not feel that they were bad. We realized that 22 Bn was taking a hammering but we thought that the situation could be coped with.”

W-Aug16 Maleme_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:10 AM Page 55

A seminal message was sent by Hargest at 1425 hours to 23rd Battalion, stating, “Glad your message of 1140 hrs. Will NOT call on you for counter-attack unless position very serious. So far everything is in hand and reports from other units satisfactory.” Hargest’s negation of 23rd Battalion’s counterattack was to have devastating consequences. Events at the airfield and on Hill 107 were not going well despite Hargest’s optimistic mind-set. At 1455 hours, Andrew sent a wireless signal to Hargest that his battalion HQ atop Hill 107 had been penetrated by the Germans. Almost an hour later, Andrew reported to brigade HQ that his left flank had given way. Since he had no communication link to his remote companies, he requested that brigade HQ contact 22nd Battalion HQ Company at Pirgos to send desperately needed reinforcements. In dire need of relief, Andrew contacted Hargest at 1700 hours and requested that 23rd Battalion launch its planned counterattack. Hargest denied the request, stating that 23rd Battalion was in the midst of combating its own German assault. In search of a solution to his predicament, Andrew launched a local counterattack on the gap between C and D Companies at the Tavronitis bridge with his Platoon A reserve and his two coveted “I” tanks. The attack failed, and he notified Hargest of this at 1745 via his wireless set and mentioned his contemplation of a limited withdrawal to RAP ridge where B Company was situated. Hargest said, “If you must, you must.” He also promised to send two companies, one of the 23rd Battalion and one of the 28th (Maori) Battalion, to reinforce Andrew. At 1930 hours, the two reinforcing companies departed with the 23rd and the 28th Battalion companies scheduled to join Andrew at 2045 and 2100 hours, respectively. At 2100, Andrew told Hargest, via a weak signal on his wireless, that he was going to make his limited withdrawal of A Company and his battalion HQ to B Company’s RAP ridge on the eastern reverse slope of Hill 107. At this time only the 23rd Battalion’s reinforcing company had arrived. Shortly thereafter, while waiting for the second reinforcing company’s arrival, Andrew decided that his new position on RAP ridge was untenable. He then made his momentous tactical error and withdrew the 250 surviving troops of A and B Companies under the cover of darkness. A Company of 23rd Battalion acted as a guide to cover the total withdrawal from Hill 107 to the line between 21st and 23rd Battalions on Vineyard Ridge. Andrew sent out runners to C, D, and HQ Companies,

German parachute troops descend from their Junkers Ju-52 transport aircraft above the island of Crete. The capture of the airfield at Maleme was a turning point in the battle for the island and facilitated the introduction of German reinforcements.

but none got through. Almost oblivious to the events surrounding the abandonment of Hill 107, Hargest sent a message to Brigadier Edward Puttick, the division commander, relaying that 23rd Battalion and 7th Field Company were “tired but in good fettle ... hundreds of dead Germans in the area ... all units would be keeping a sharp watch on beach.” Some observers have cited Hargest’s poor judgment as a reason for not counterattacking immediately with 23rd Battalion, while others have wondered whether Hargest was just confused and misinformed. Andrew’s decision, made during combat and amid the fog of war, ceded Maleme airfield to the Germans. By dawn on May 21, no New Zealand troops remained within the airfield perimeter. The survivors from D Company on

the Tavronitis, upon learning that Andrew had left RAP ridge, had no alternative but to retreat. C Company’s commander learned of Andrew’s decision to withdraw from Hill 107 during the early morning hours of May 21, compelling him to lead his surviving troops away from the airfield at 0430 hours. Without Hill 107, direct fire from the New Zealanders could reach only the eastern end of the runway, making Maleme an effective operational enemy airfield before the second day of the battle commenced. The 100th Gebirgsjäger Regiment started to reinforce Maleme by 1700 hours on May 21. The 22nd Battalion’s weaknesses at Maleme on May 20 were myriad. Given its casualties in Greece, it was insufficiently sized for a five-mile perimeter and its weapons were inferior in both number and quality. The battalion had only 60 OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

55

W-Aug16 Maleme_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:10 AM Page 56

percent of its machine guns, and the mortars lacked baseplates and sufficient ammunition. Eight of its 20 officers became casualties on May 20. Disrupted telephone lines from bomb damage and a wireless set shortage cannot be overemphasized as they contributed critically to Andrew’s ignorance of the fate and position of his C, D, and HQ Companies. The two “I” tanks, which Andrew coveted for a local counterattack, proved useless against the German breach across the Tavronitis. One tank’s turret did not traverse, and its ammunition did not fit. The second tank’s turret jammed in the riverbed, and after its abandonment it served as a German pillbox. Artillery support was scanty, with Andrew’s requests denied as a multiplicity in command hampered tactical decision making. The antiaircraft guns, sited for coastal defense, could not combat the aerial assault at multiple locales. Finally, there was no response to the Luftwaffe’s incessant

bombing and strafing of defensive positions and the New Zealanders’ troop movements, especially during the daylight hours. As darkness descended on May 20, Andrew counted with certainty on only two (A and B) of his five companies. If D Company had been annihilated, as was suggested by a straggler, the enemy could cross the Tavronitis anywhere along its length. The prearranged counterattack he had expected from both the full 23rd and possibly the 21st Battalions never materialized, constituting a radical departure from the original battle plan. Andrew was predisposed to use the cover of darkness to adjust his position on Hill 107 for better defense. This was preeminent in his mind-set when he spoke to Hargest about a limited withdrawal to his B Company HQ on RAP ridge after his local counterattack failed. After his first limited tactical withdrawal to RAP ridge, Andrew had become fearful of an

Map © 2016 Philip Schwartzberg, Meridian Mapping, Minneapolis, MN

German airborne troops descended upon Crete in May 1941 to capture key positions, including the airfield at Maleme. Miscommunication among British commanders resulted in the withdrawal from key positions that might have thwarted the eventual German victory.

56

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

attack from the southwest against his new front on RAP ridge, fretting that the remnants of his battalion might be driven off there by morning. Finally, Andrew was unable to impress upon Hargest the magnitude of his predicament. Poor communications and dysfunctional discussions with Hargest failed to exhort Andrew to implement an alternative plan to defend Hill 107 other than total withdrawal. Exhaustion and a light wound compounded his pessimistic view of the tactical situation. Andrew may have been hasty, but the accumulation of faulty communication, heavy enemy attack, ceaseless aerial bombardment and strafing, failed counterattacks, and tardy reinforcement by Hargest’s two companies strongly influenced his plan for a second total withdrawal to Vineyard Ridge to join the line between 21st and 23rd Battalions. Ironically, if Andrew could have observed his C and D Companies before nightfall, he would have seen that the former was still strongly defending the airfield and the latter was intact along the Tavronitis. C and D Companies had suffered many casualties, but they inflicted much greater losses on the invaders. Andrew was unaware of these facts and dwelled upon the strong German buildup to his west, which he believed would be hurled against his remaining A and B Companies. The Allies might have held Crete had additional wireless radio sets been available among 22nd Battalion’s separated companies. As luck would have it, the other reinforcing company from the 28th Maori Battalion reached the airfield in the dark and was only 200 meters from C Company’s command post. However, the Maoris believed that C Company had been overrun and turned back, fearing a dawn air attack. Had the Maoris linked up with C Company and continued to defend the airfield on May 21, the course of the entire battle could have changed. What else could Andrew have decided at B Company HQ on RAP ridge? Although the two reinforcing companies from 23rd and 28th Battalions might have been delayed, Andrew may have been too pessimistic once they arrived. As David Davin, the official New Zealand author for the campaign, wrote, “With their arrival, Andrew could have expected to have four reasonably strong companies with which to hold a narrower perimeter based on [Hill] 107.... So long as he held out, the enemy could not have secure possession of the airfield or give his undivided attention to driving further east.” Davin continued, “Andrew intended to put the two reinforcing companies on [Hill] 107 as they arrived and hold A and B companies on RAP

W-Aug16 Maleme_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:10 AM Page 57

Ullstein Bild

German fallschirmjager converge on a farmhouse somewhere on Crete. Although they took heavy casualties, the Germans captured the island with the help of a British tactical withdrawal from Maleme airfield and key surrounding positions that may have been unnecessary.

ridge ... this seems a much weaker plan than to concentrate his whole force on and around [Hill] 107 itself.” Andrew had not entirely given up hope of holding Hill 107 since between 2100 and 2200 hours he positioned the newly arriving A Company from 23rd Battalion atop Hill 107 to enable his own A Company to withdraw to RAP ridge. In actuality, once Andrew made the first limited withdrawal of his A Company to RAP ridge versus holding the top of Hill 107 with all available troops, the drawbacks of this new position gnawed at him. Andrew reasoned that Hill 107 had previously been the center of his defensive system, and now it was held by only 23rd Battalion’s A Company. If that company failed to hold Hill 107’s crest the next day, the enemy would dominate RAP ridge, which was now 22nd Battalion’s main position. RAP ridge had little natural cover, and Andrew’s men lacked tools and time to dig new defenses before dawn. Andrew feared his men’s exposure to the inevitable daylight aerial strafing and bombing in addition to small-arms fire from the German airborne troops. He anticipated heavy casualties among his surviving A and B Company troops, especially since they would be unable to extricate themselves during daytime.

Also, weighing unduly on Andrew’s mind was the absence of 28th Battalion’s reinforcing B Company and the continued silence of his own C, D, and HQ Companies, which seemed to confirm Andrew’s fears that they were annihilated. These pragmatic exigencies compelled Andrew to hastily decide on his second complete withdrawal from Hill 107 to the line between 21st and 23rd Battalions on Vineyard Ridge. If B Company of the 28th Battalion had arrived at the same time as A Company of the 23rd Battalion, it might have enabled Andrew to see that there were other options. Davin argued that with the two reinforcing companies arriving simultaneously, “there was still time to change his [Andrew’s] mind and go back to [Hill] 107. Failing such a reversal of plan, he had no course but to go on withdrawing; and how unfortunate for the future of the defence that course was.” Who else made critical errors? Lt. Cols. Allen and Leckie should have implemented their preinvasion orders to counterattack immediately if the Germans secured a lodgement on the airfield. The 23rd Battalion and the understrength 21st Battalion were some distance away but should have been able to assist 22nd Battalion. A lion’s share of the blame belongs to Hargest, who negated the preinvasion battle

plan’s execution of sending in 23rd Battalion and perhaps 21st Battalion as well to assist 22nd Battalion if it were in dire straits. This one- or possibly two-battalion counterattack would have pushed the Germans back across the Tavronitis bridge and riverbed, as later attested by the Germans. Hargest’s sending of only two reinforcing companies was inadequate to assure a proper defense of Hill 107 and too tardy to counter Andrew’s heightening pessimism. Paradoxically, it was Hargest, while failing to properly assess Andrew’s dire situation by remaining at his Platanias HQ, who possessed an unrealistically optimistic mind-set that he conveyed to both his subordinate battalion commanders and his superiors. Brigadier Puttick, too, failed to grasp Andrew’s serious predicament at Maleme airfield and Hill 107 on May 20 to properly ensure a more aggressive response on Hargest’s part. General Freyberg’s vacillation over an impending seaborne attack versus further air landings may have clouded his strategic thinking. However, Hargest’s report of a “quite satisfactory” situation at Maleme only contributed to overall miscommunication along the chain of command, causing Freyberg to hesitate to commit the entire 23rd Battalion to counterattack and defend Maleme airfield early on May 20 because of its “responsibility for coastal defense.” After its evacuation from Crete, 22nd Battalion regrouped in Egypt and entered the North African Campaign later in 1941, still under Andrew’s command. In late November 1941, the battalion, still part of 5th Infantry Brigade, was situated at Menastir, where the brigade HQ was overrun and Brigadier Hargest captured. Andrew took over as temporary brigade commander and “for outstanding skill and leadership over the very difficult period 25th November to 9th December” he was awarded the Distinguished Service Order (DSO). Andrew relinquished command of his battalion on February 3, 1942, and returned to New Zealand, where he was promoted to colonel and took command of the Wellington Fortress Area. In 1952, Andrew was promoted to brigadier. He died on January 8, 1969, and his many medals, including the VC and DSO, are on display at the New Zealand Army Museum, Waiouru. Jon Diamond is a frequent contributor to WWII History. His Command series book on Field Marshal Archibald Wavell was released by Osprey Publishing in 2012. OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

57

W-Oct16 Geilenkirchen_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:11 AM Page 58

CRACKING THE

GEILENKIRCHEN SALIENT

58

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

W-Oct16 Geilenkirchen_Layout 1 8/8/16 12:31 PM Page 59

G

eilenkirchen had been a thorn in the side of the Allies ever since the first penetration of the Siegfried Line had been made just to the south. It was a strongly fortified northern anchor of the Siegfried Line and a highly important road and rail center for movement both forward and to the rear. The salient also threatened the flanks of the 12th U.S. Army Group under General Omar N. Bradley and the neighboring 21st Army Group of British Field Marshal Bernard L. Montgomery. It was about to become the Ninth U.S. Army’s first major battle along the German frontier. The Ninth Army, under the command of Lt. Gen. William Hood Simpson, had landed in France in August 1944 and served as an administrative headquarters, processing newly arriving American forces from the beaches to the front lines. By September it had passed that role to other formations, and Ninth Army was taking over the Brittany

War College when he was promoted to brigadier general in 1940. His subsequent commands included the 30th Infantry Division, XII Corps, Fourth U.S. Army, and Ninth U.S. Army. General Simpson’s Ninth Army had recently completed the nasty job of securing the Brittany Peninsula, including the capture of the port of Brest. After turning over the sector to other troops recently arrived on the Continent, Ninth Army was ordered to fill in between the First U.S. Army of Lt. Gen. Courtney H. Hodges and the Third U.S. Army under Patton. In accordance with these orders, Simpson and his staff began the difficult move of some 80,000 troops across France to locations in the Belgium-Luxembourg area along the Siegfried Line. The move included the VIII Corps, then under Ninth Army control. The new zone of responsibility ran from St. Vith in the north to Metz in the south.

AMERICAN AND BRITISH FORCES COORDINATED AN EFFORT TO ELIMINATE A GERMAN THREAT TO THE U.S. NINTH ARMY. BY NATHAN N. PREFER Peninsula Campaign from General George S. Patton’s Third U.S. Army, which was racing across France. William Hood Simpson, son of a veteran of the Confederate Tennessee Cavalry, was born in Weatherford, Texas, 30 miles south of Fort Worth, on May 19, 1888. He attended school there and starred on the football team. Described as thin and broad shouldered, he stood some six feet, two inches and weighed about 170 pounds. At the age of 17, he accepted an appointment to the United States Military Academy at West Point, New York. He graduated 101st out of 103 in the class of 1909, which included future fellow generals Patton and Jacob L. Devers. He then served in the Philippines, on the Mexican border, and with the 33rd Division in France during World War I. Simpson went on to graduate from the Command and General Staff School in 1925 and the Army War College in 1928. He was an instructor at the prestigious Army

No sooner had the Ninth Army established itself in and around Arlon, Belgium, when new orders arrived from Supreme Headquarters, Allied Expeditionary Forces (SHAEF). In early October 1944, Ninth Army was ordered to move north and take over First U.S. Army’s flank north of the German city of Aachen. In this position it would man the left flank of the 12th Army Group. To expedite the move Ninth Army left behind most of its troops, including the VIII Corps, and exchanged these for the First Army troops north of Aachen. Hence, Ninth Army acquired the XIX Corps under Maj. Gen. Raymond S. McLain, a National Guard officer. Ninth Army headquarters moved to Maastricht, Netherlands. The reason for the switch in locations was due to General Bradley’s difficulties in working with Field Marshal Montgomery. Bradley disliked Montgomery and was beginning to realize that due to the dwindling manpower

Knocked out during the fighting in the Geilenkirchen salient, this German PzKpfw. V Panther medium tank is now a prize of war as troops of a U.S. Ninth Army ordnance unit tow the armored vehicle to a rear area. The Panther was a deadly opponent in tank versus tank combat with its high-velocity 75mm cannon.

National Archives

OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

59

W-Oct16 Geilenkirchen_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:11 AM Page 60

Ullstein Bild / The Granger Collection

German panzergrenadiers are photographed during the height of their operations in the Geilenkirchen salient as they advance with the support of a heavily camouflaged assault gun.

available to the field marshal’s 21st Army Group it was inevitable that at some point an American army would be “loaned” to him to allow him to complete his mission. Bradley had previously commanded First U.S. Army, the northernmost American army, and was friendly with that army’s current commander, Lt. Gen. Courtney H. Hodges. He preferred to keep that army under his own command. He had no such attachment to the new Ninth U.S. Army, nor its commander, General Simpson. As a result, Ninth Army was moved north to the border between the 12th Army Group and 21st Army Group. Should the Supreme Allied Commander, General Dwight D. Eisenhower, order an American army under British control, logic now dictated that it would be the Ninth Army. General McLain’s XIX Corps occupied a 25mile front stretching north of Aachen to the vicinity of the town of Geilenkirchen and then on to the Maas River. The corps contained two infantry divisions and one armored division with the usual supporting troops. Ninth Army was also responsible for administratively supporting the 104th Infantry Division of Maj. Gen. Terry de la Mesa Allen and the 7th Armored Division of Maj. Gen. Lindsay Silvester, both of which were operating tactically under the nearby Second British Army. General 60

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

Simpson and his staff immediately began to plan an offensive to cross the Roer River and reach the Rhine River in Germany. When Simpson and his staff began reviewing their new situation they were disturbed that a German enclave existed on their left flank, between Ninth Army and Lt. Gen. Miles C. Dempsey’s Second British Army. In what became known as the Geilenkirchen Salient, German forces held a threatening position that could easily be the launch point for attacks against either Ninth Army or Second Army. Simpson immediately ordered the formation of a small reserve force to counter just such a threat. Battalions from the 2nd Armored and the 29th and 30th Infantry Divisions constituted this reserve. Ninth Army continued planning for a renewed general offensive by the Allied forces. In such an offensive Ninth Army’s role would be to protect the left flank of 12th Army Group and the right, or southern, flank of 21st Army Group. It was also to attack to reach the Rhine River, supported by the recently created XXIX Tactical Air Force commanded by Brig. Gen. Richard E. Nugent. To strengthen Ninth Army for the planned attack, XIII Corps, under the Maj. Gen. Alvan C. Gillem, Jr., was assigned to Ninth Army. It brought with it Brig. Gen.

Alexander R. Bolling’s 84th Infantry Division and Maj. Gen. Frank A. Keating’s 102nd Infantry Division, both new to combat. General Gillem’s corps took over the 113th Cavalry Group positions. Geilenkirchen was the northern end of the German defensive line known variously as the West Wall or the Siegfried Line. From Geilenkirchen, 15 miles north of Aachen, to Kleve there was only a thin, single line of scattered pillboxes backed up by natural obstacles. South of Geilenkirchen the pillboxes multiplied into definite clusters on a forward line backed up by other clusters a few hundred yards to the rear. Farther south the number of pillboxes and clusters increased markedly. First to approach the Geilenkirchen area was the 2nd Armored Division under Maj. Gen. Ernest N. Harmon in September. The Americans were unaware that the German forces facing them were scattered and struggling to restore a torn front line. Further, they did not know that at this moment the vaunted West Wall was largely unmanned. Under orders to keep the Americans away from the West Wall, Col. Gen. Kurt Student, commanding the defending First Parachute Army, had launched counterattacks to slow the 2nd Armored Division. Nevertheless, the American armored attack all but destroyed the 176th Infantry Division defending the area and pushed the 275th Infantry Division to the south. This left

W-Oct16 Geilenkirchen_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:12 AM Page 61

a dangerous gap in the German lines, which led directly to the northern end of the West Wall at Geilenkirchen. If the village was seized it would tear a gap in the West Wall defenses that might not be repaired. Fearing the worst, Field Marshal Walther Model, commanding the German Western Front, ordered more troops to the area. He rushed the recently reconstituted 183rd Volksgrenadier Division to the scene with orders to restore the front lines, but it arrived too late. Both the 2nd Armored Division and Maj. Gen. Leland S. Hobbs’ veteran 30th Infantry Division had already passed the positions to which the 183rd Volksgrenadier Division was directed. Although the Germans did manage to reestablish contact between the two separated sectors of their front, the Americans were within a stone’s throw of Geilenkirchen, at Teveren. The 183rd Volksgrenadier Division was ordered to man the empty pillboxes of the West Wall. An American assault seemed imminent. An assault was exactly what the Americans intended, but other factors began to alter plans. The XIX Corps under First Army had recently had one of its divisions transferred to Third Army. This left the corps with insufficient troops to make the attack and at the same time protect its flanks and those of First Army. Montgomery had advised Bradley that his 21st Army Group was coming into the area, but he specified that its target was the Lower Rhine between Wesel and Arnhem. In fact, Second Army had driven straight into the Netherlands after which it engaged in Operation MarketGarden, the massive airborne and ground assault designed to capture bridges over the Rhine River at Arnhem. When this failed, a gap developed between First Army and Second Army. Neither Ally had sufficient troops to close the gap. To relieve the threat, Montgomery assigned his VIII Corps, commanded by Lt. Gen. Sir Richard N. O’Conner, to fill the hole. But like the American XIX Corps, O’Conner had only two divisions under command, an insufficient force to close the gap while continuing an advance. The result was a gap of some 112 miles that lay open to the Germans. The XIX Corps flank alone lay unprotected for more than nine miles. Although the American sector was cleared up to the British zone, nothing more could be done without additional troops. To address the open American flank, a special task force had been created to clear a strip of land lying between the Maastricht Canal and the Maas River. Commanded by Lt. Col. William M. Stokes, Jr., the 99th Infantry Battalion and a battalion of the 2nd Armored Divi-

sion’s tanks, supported by artillery, engineers, and medical aid men, pushed north to close the nine-mile gap. Task Force Stokes accomplished this in three days. Second Army, however, had stopped as planned along the Maas River and was fully engaged in the continuing Operation MarketGarden. Even with the 113th Cavalry Group maintaining contact between the First and Second Armies, the danger still existed. Planners at XIX Corps soon realized that any attack on the West Wall would leave the assault force, the 30th Infantry Division, exposed on both flanks to German counterattacks. A shortage of

on the West Wall was postponed indefinitely. On September 22, General Hodges authorized all three of his corps to go on the defensive. First Army spent its pause readjusting its lines, replenishing supplies, and preparing for a new offensive. The northern end of the West Wall in and around the village of Geilenkirchen remained securely in German hands. While the Germans reinforced the West Wall, the Americans adjusted their own lines. First Army then launched its attack in October. Plans remained basically unchanged. General Hobbs’ 30th Infantry Division would make the main attack on the West Wall supported by the entire

National Archives

On November 19, 1944, troops of an antitank unit of the U.S. 84th Infantry Division move forward to eliminate mines that the Germans have buried on a roadway so that American tanks can advance toward the enemy during the fight to take Geilenkirchen.

artillery ammunition would require additional air support, and the weather was rapidly turning bad, delaying the attack. The assault on the West Wall would require good flying weather. Several days did not meet the requirement, and the attack was postponed. Each day more and more German troops and equipment poured into the previously empty West Wall pillboxes. German counterattacks along other sectors of the front also caused the American commanders to reconsider the attack. Apparently the German Army was not as defeated as had been previously thought. With the Brittany Campaign now concluded and more and more ports opening, additional Allied troops could be expected at the front in the near future. Accordingly, the attack

2nd Armored Division. This attack was directed against positions protecting Aachen, reportedly weaker than those farther north. To protect the Army’s dangerously exposed northern flank, Maj. Gen. Charles H. Gerhardt’s veteran 29th Infantry Division would make limited objective attacks along the northern front between Sittard and Geilenkirchen. The 29th Infantry Division’s diversionary attack brought a swift reaction from the Germans. The original attack of two battalions was enlarged when German opposition proved strong. When two regiments of the division attacked, the German commanders became alarmed, although the Americans did not make any significant penetrations. General Hans von OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

61

W-Oct16 Geilenkirchen_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:12 AM Page 62

Obstfelder called for help from the neighboring corps, but that corps was itself struggling with the 7th Armored Division in the Peel Marshes and could offer no assistance. General Obstfelder did manage to counterattack, and in a fierce battle for the village of Schierwaldenrath wiped out an entire company of the 29th Infantry Division. Operations in the 29th area were reduced to strong patrols. Meanwhile, the 30th Infantry Division continued fighting for Aachen and the West Wall defenses surrounding it. On October 5, Combat Command B, 2nd Armored Division cut the AachenGeilenkirchen highway against strong opposition. The Germans rushed tanks and antitank guns up and managed to halt the 2nd Armored the next day. Field Marshal Gerd von Rundstedt, the German commander-in-chief, West, ordered more troops rushed to the threatened sector to relieve the 343rd Infantry Regiment, 183rd Infantry Division so that the former was prepared to counterattack the 29th Infantry Division near Geilenkirchen. Sixty artillery pieces were brought up to support the attack. But as usual at this stage of the war, move-

ment of German units from one sector of the front to another was often delayed by Allied air, interdicted roads, and lack of transport. Before these new units could arrive to relieve the 343rd Infantry Regiment, each was absorbed into a battle near Aachen to face the continuing American general offensive. As a result, no counterattack was launched by the 183rd Volksgrenadier Division, which had all it could do to maintain its defenses by launching feeble counterattacks south of Geilenkirchen. The American attacks eventually established a strong defensive front along a railroad spur that ran east below Geilenkirchen. The American concentration on Aachen had left a salient in the lines that would have to be dealt with at some point. Aachen was surrounded officially on October 16. The next several days were spent mopping up the remaining resistance in and around the city. As the mopping up continued, the Ninth Army moved to this front. Only XIX Corps with the 2nd Armored, 29th Infantry, and 30th Infantry Divisions held the front. General Frank Keating’s new 102nd Infantry Division was arriving. While XIX Corps could

National Archives

East of the Geilenkirchen salient on November 19,1944, American soldiers of Company B, 334th Regiment, 84th Infantry Division attach a wire to the corpse of a dead German soldier. They dragged the body, which concealed a Teller mine, away from the explosive device it had covered.

62

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

hold the front, the exposed northern flank was a concern to General Simpson, as it had been to General Hodges. The front now stretched some 17 miles from the Maas River to the West Wall at Geilenkirchen and kept a full infantry division and the 113th Cavalry Group busy patrolling to prevent a surprise German attack. As the Ninth Army moved farther east, the gap would only grow larger. Simpson’s concerns were transmitted to General Bradley, who delayed the next offensive several days to permit new divisions, the 84th Infantry Division and the 102nd Infantry Division, to reach Ninth Army. This would also give the British time to clear the Peel Marshes, a threat to Ninth Army’s rear, and perhaps close the gap between Ninth Army and Second Army. General Simpson ordered General Gillem’s new XIII Corps to take command of the 102nd Infantry Division and the 113th Cavalry Group. They were to defend the 17-mile-wide gap until the British could arrive. When they did arrive, the 7th Armored and 84th Infantry Divisions would come under command of XIII Corps, which would then attack east alongside the XIX Corps to the Rhine. But there remained one problem with Ninth Army’s plan. The village of Geilenkirchen lay on a crossroads within the West Wall defenses. Besides providing an excellent base for an enemy counterattack, it also narrowed the space available for the coming attack. Planning to seize it was difficult, since the village lay directly on the boundary between the American and British forces. General Simpson had an answer. He asked the British for assistance. Accordingly, Lt. Gen. Brian Horrocks agreed to move up his XXX British Corps and one infantry division prior to relieving XIII Corps. The agreement placed the village of Geilenkirchen under XXX Corps and provided the 84th Infantry Division from XIII Corps to assist in clearing the village. Once cleared, General Bolling’s division would revert to XIII Corps control for the push to the Roer River. Facing XIII Corps in the Geilenkirchern sector was the XII SS Corps under the command of General Guenther Blumentritt. It included the 176th Infantry Division and the 183rd Volksgrenadier Division. Both divisions had recently undergone major reorganizations and were stronger than the average German frontline unit. General Blumentritt was particularly worried about the 176th Infantry Division, whose exposed position invited a pincer attack by the British. As a result, he placed most of his few reserves behind that division while he positioned his artillery to fire directly on Geilenkirchen. Also at the village were 20

W-Oct16 Geilenkirchen_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:12 AM Page 63

Imperial War Museum

assault guns and several 75mm and 88mm guns. Behind the front he held the 301st Tank Battalion with 31 Mark VI Tiger tanks and the 559th Assault Gun Battalion with 21 assault guns. All of the many small villages in the area were developed into mutually supporting strongpoints. Each was surrounded by trenches, foxholes, and mines. If driven from their pillboxes, the Germans were to use the strongly built cellars of each village as secondary positions. Simpson delayed the start of his attack on the Geilenkirchen salient until the third day of the American general offensive toward the Roer River. This was in the hope that the main attack might draw off German reserves protecting the salient. Yet, while no frontline troops were diverted, a major reserve force, the 15th Panzergrenadier Division, was in fact sent south against XIX Corps. Geilenkirchen straddles the Würm River on the Roer River plain surrounded by farming and mining villages amid endless rows of beets and cabbages that cover much of the plain. In the dismal weather conditions of November 1944, one soldier complained, “The Geilenkirchen area was not one of Germany’s more attractive places.” Operation Clipper, as the battle for Geilenkirchen was known to the Ninth Army, had four phases. The 84th Infantry Division was to make the main effort, passing through the 102nd Infantry Division and seizing the high ground east of Geilenkirchen and Prummern. The following day the 43rd British Infantry Division was to take the high ground around Bauchem and Tripsrath, villages to the west and south of Geilenkirchen. This would encircle the town. Then General Bolling’s men would attack the town itself toward Sueggerath and the Würm valley. In the last phase, the 43rd Infantry Division was to clear the west bank of the Würm River to Hoven, three miles north of Geilenkirchen. Upon completion of these phases, the Geilenkirchen salient would be eliminated. Protecting the corps’ northern flank was Task Force Biddle, the 113th Cavalry Group reinforced by tanks and artillery under Colonel William S. Biddle, commander of the cavalry group. General Bolling’s 84th Infantry Division was new to combat and had only two of its three infantry regiments available. The third was detached to XIX Corps in the south. It was, however, reinforced by a British unit called Drewforce, consisting of two troops of flail (mine-clearing) tanks and a troop of the 357th Searchlight Battery, Royal Artillery. The four giant searchlights provided “artificial moonlight” by reflecting their lights off the low

ABOVE: On the move in the vicinity of Geilenkirchen, British soldiers of the 43rd Wessex Division ride atop British tanks. These troops are moving toward German positions in the towns of Tripsrath and Bauchem during an offensive to push the Germans back. BELOW: American Sherman tanks halt momentarily near the village of Prummeran, east of Geilenkirchen. Nearly 50,000 Shermans were produced during World War II, and the tank became an Allied workhorse.

National Archives

clouds, allowing tanks and infantry to advance after dark. Also available were two battalions of XIII Corps artillery. To begin his assault, Bolling selected Colonel John S. Roosma’s 334th Infantry Regiment. November 18, 1944, dawned cold, wet, and gray. The 334th Infantry moved to the attack at 7 AM, its objective the village of Prummern. Five and a half hours later the 43rd (Wessex) Division would assault the villages of Tripsrath and Bauchem. The 333rd Infantry Regiment would strike the next day to clear the valley southwest

of Geilenkirchen. Before the attack was launched, things did not go well. The neighboring 2nd Armored Division had a slow start, and intelligence reports indicated that the 9th Panzer Division was concentrating for a counterattack near Geilenkirchen. General Bolling hoped “to beat the Germans to the punch.” A patrol from the 334th Infantry had found two gaps in the minefields protecting the villages. These openings had been mined by the Americans to confuse the Germans. Now those mines were lifted, and the American troops OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

63

W-Oct16 Geilenkirchen_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:12 AM Page 64

used the lanes to advance. Drewforce widened the gaps to allow tanks and other vehicles to use them as well. The 309th Engineer Combat Battalion completed the job. Lt. Col. Lloyd H. Gomes, commanding the 1st Battalion, ordered his men forward in a column of companies. Each group had a designated objective, groups of pillboxes. Supported by British tanks from the Sherwood Rangers Yeomanry Regiment, the men moved forward until the enemy opened fire. German artillery and mortars caused the first casualties. Nevertheless, the

would come out of the surrendered positions. It became a platoon fight. Rarely was a full infantry company engaged in taking a pillbox. The enemy artillery often came late, so the leading platoons escaped its fire but follow-up forces were often hit by it. In fact, the 1st Platoon of Company B soon found itself 1,000 yards ahead of the rest of the battalion. Overlooking the village of Prummern, they decided it was too dangerous to attack alone, so they dug in and waited. Soon Companies B and C arrived. Colonel

ONE OF THE SURVIVORS LATER REPORTED, “We were ambushed. They jumped us. There were six or seven Jerries on both sides of us. There was a machine gun ahead of us. We couldn’t use the radio. We got all tied up in some telephone wires and couldn’t swing ourselves free. One Jerry stood right up on the [railroad] tracks with a Tommy gun. He was probably lying between the tracks. He hit one man in the throat. Some of our boys fired back and I think got a couple of them.”

National Archives

Americans raced forward and were soon engaged in hand-to-hand combat with the defenders. Most of the enemy, however, did not relish close-in fighting and surrendered. The Americans soon developed a process for knocking out pillboxes. Tanks and heavy weapons opened fire on a pillbox. The enemy defenders ducked and closed any openings that might allow enemy fire to enter. While doing so they were blind to what was happening outside. The Americans crawled up to each pillbox in turn and dropped smoke grenades into the ventilators. As many as 45 enemy troops 64

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

Gomes did not waste any time. Soon the battalion was entering Prummern. Machine-gun and sniper fire came from the houses. The Americans moved through the town, taking prisoners and clearing out cellars. Some enemy strongpoints remained on the other side of the village, but Prummern was in American hands by midafternoon. While Prummern was falling to the 1st Battalion, the 2nd Battalion was clearing the high ground between that village and Geilenkirchen. Although the mud slowed the supporting tanks, the advance continued, and the hill was taken

by 9 AM. A second hill fell in midafternoon. British intelligence officers reported a large column of 4,500 enemy troops with tanks and other vehicles that appeared to be heading toward Geilenkirchen. Later it was determined that this was the 15th Panzergrenadier Division heading south. Both battalions dug in for the night. The attack had struck at the 343rd Infantry Regiment of the 183rd Volksgrenadier Division. These Russian front veterans had sent a company each to Prummern and Geilenkirchen. Now the 2nd Company had been lost in Prummern. But these veterans knew how to fight, and they soon showed it. As a 1st Battalion patrol explored a way to the next day’s objective, they discovered six enemy tanks just north of Prummern and moving toward the town. Soon after the patrol reported the advance, German artillery opened fire. The tanks fired down the streets of the town. “The place was bedlam,” reported one soldier. “Shells exploding, houses burning, flashes streaking.” Two companies of the 10th Panzergrenadier Regiment and the 2nd Battalion, 33rd Tank Regiment struck Purmmern hard. Prummern became a no-man’s land. The fight continued all night long . Americans were surrounded by Germans and vice versa. But daylight brought a clarification. Purmmern remained in American hands, although individual Germans still roamed the alleys and stables. To finally clear the town, the 3rd Battalion, 334th Infantry came up and did the job—or so it seemed. As the battalion moved out of town to seize the next objective, Mahogany Hill, their advance was halted by a company of German infantry that had set up on the edge of town. Once again fierce fighting resulted in hand-to-hand encounters. British flamethrowing tanks came up and cleared the village, knocking out two German tanks, but the enemy still held the northern edge of the village. The 334th Infantry had achieved its objective at a cost of 10 killed and 180 wounded. More than 330 enemy prisoners had been sent to the rear. The attack continued throughout the night of November 18-19, illuminated by the British searchlight batteries. Hill 101 was seized with little difficulty. But because of the continuing resistance in Prummern, the 2nd Battalion, 334th Infantry could not launch an attack on Mahogany Hill. It began to appear to General Bolling that the real danger was to the east between Prummern and the positions held by the 2nd Armored Division a mile and a half south at Apweiler. He reported, “Our flank is sort of out in the breeze now,” to Ninth Army.

W-Oct16 Geilenkirchen_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:12 AM Page 65

Both: National Archives

ABOVE: Peering through binoculars, an American soldier of Company A, 333rd Regiment, 84th Infantry Division, searches for a German machine-gun position that is temporarily holding up his unit's advance. This photo was taken near Geilenkirchen on November 19, 1944. BELOW: Inside the embattled town of Geilenkirchen on November 19, 1944, two American soldiers and a British tank move warily through the rubble of destroyed buildings. OPPOSITE: British flamethrower tanks, Churchills that were dubbed 'Crocodiles,' move forward toward Geilenkirchen along with American infantrymen. These tanks proved to be of great value in reducing enemy-occupied machine gun positions and bunkers during the fight to reduce the salient.

He later elaborated, “Our chief concern ... is our right flank. The 2nd Armored Division has advanced only to Immendord-Apweiler. I have pushed a salient up the river valley and they [2nd Armored] haven’t advanced.”

General Bolling was aware that the 2nd Armored Division was stalled. It had been counterattacked in strength by the 9th Panzer Division. Further, one of its main supply routes through Setterich was still closed. Appreciating

Bolling’s concerns, Generals Simpson and Gillem ordered up the 405th Infantry Regiment, 102nd Infantry Division. The following day Mahogany Hill fell to the 3rd Battalion. Fighting was heavy but supported by artillery and British tanks. Meanwhile, the 1st Battalion, 333rd Infantry Regiment moved on Geilenkirchen soon after the German counterattack on Prummern was defeated. Pleased with the success thus far, General Horrocks ordered General Gillem to combine phases three and four into one attack. On November 19, XIII Corps was to seize Geilenkirchen, Sueggerath, Müellendorf, Würm, and Beeck. Concerned about the increased objective as well as strong enemy defenses, Gillem ordered the 102nd Infantry Division to prepare to support the attack with another regiment. Colonel Timothy A. Pedley, Jr.’s 333rd Infantry now had to take Geilenkirchen, Sueggerath, Müellendorf, and Würm. Using the Würm River, which divided Geilenkirchen, as a separating line the 1st Battalion assigned sectors to the assault companies. Supported by British tanks and the 325th Field Artillery Battalion, the attack began early on November 19 and moved rapidly. The first casualties came from mines, but the advance continued and the battalion’s Company B reached the center of town by 9 AM. Without pause, they headed out for Suggerath, a mile farther. Communications with Company A were lost early in the advance, but the sounds of heavy combat came from across the river. It was midafternoon when the first heavy fire came against Company B. Mortars hit the company as it was crossing the open ground between the villages, but the Americans pressed forward and reached the outskirts of Suggerath by 3 PM. Lt. Col. Thomas W. Woodyard, Jr., who had been forward with B Company, called up the British tanks and his reserve Company C and ordered the combined force into Suggerath. They entered a burning village infested with snipers. In an intense fight the village was cleared by 5 PM. By dark both Geilenkirchen and Suggerath had been captured. Mopping up continued and would go on for the next two days as more and more hidden Germans appeared from the deep cellars of both villages. High ground between Suggerath and Müllendorf presented a threat to the battalion. Colonel Woodyard took six men and led a patrol to the high ground. One man disappeared in the darkness, but the remaining men went on. One of the survivors later reported, “We were ambushed. They jumped us. There OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

65

W-Oct16 Geilenkirchen_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:12 AM Page 66

Both: National Archives

ABOVE: German prisoners march with their hands on their heads while American tanks and infantrymen advance toward the front following the battle around Geilenkirchen. Shortly after the fight for the Geilenkirchen salient ended, the U.S. 84th Infantry Division briefly took up defensive positions. BELOW: Having occupied the town of Geilenkirchen, American troops move through the ruins and on to their next engagement against the tough German enemy. This image was taken on November 21, 1944, two days before most of the fighting in the area ended.

were six or seven Jerries on both sides of us. There was a machine gun ahead of us. We couldn’t use the radio. We got all tied up in some telephone wires and couldn’t swing ourselves free. One Jerry stood right up on the [railroad] tracks with a Tommy gun. He was probably lying between the tracks. He hit one man in the throat. Some of our boys fired back and I think got a couple of them.” As the fight continued, an enemy grenade wounded Colonel Woodyard in the arm. Crawling back to Company C, he ordered it forward to relieve the patrol. The resulting fight ended with the Americans in control of the high ground. Across the river, Company A faced a much stronger initial defense. They had to cross a gravel pit, then a minefield 30 yards wide protected by entrenchments and wire. A fortified sports plaza protected the town. The regimental mine platoon cleared a path through the minefield without loss. The company crossed the gravel pit with no trouble other than a hard climb up an embankment. Strangely, the sports plaza remained quiet during their advance. It turned out that it was undefended. Company A now came to the first houses. Geilenkirchen was larger on this side of the river. Moving along a railroad track the company immediately found itself in a house-to-house fight for their section of the town. The battle opened with a German soldier waving a white cloth, indicating he wished to surrender. Three men of Company A looked up and motioned 66

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

him to come over. As they did, another German soldier in the same house opened fire with an automatic weapon. The Americans fired at the house until it was full of holes. Mortars held up the advance. When it resumed every house was an enemy defensive position. It was literally a house-to-house fight. Tunnels ran from one cellar to the next, so the Germans could advance or retreat at their pleasure. Another hour was lost in clearing the first few houses. Then, at about 10 AM, a British lieutenant appeared and asked one of the platoon leaders how he could help. He volunteered to blast the houses if the Americans would spot them for him. Two Sherwood Ranger tanks drove up, moved into the street, and began firing as directed by the American soldiers. At one pillbox, the British tank drove up, stuck its main gun through the firing port, and blasted away. The German defenders began to surrender or retreat. Four hours after Company B had cleared their sector, Company A had secured its section of town. Like Company B, Company A then faced another heavily defended area outside of town. They fought against enemy artillery, three fortified houses, and a thick wood that supposedly held a company of German troops. By dark the Americans had cleared the houses and entered the wood to find no Germans but plenty of abandoned equipment. Later that night a British patrol appeared and congratulated the company on repelling a strong German counterattack, of which the Americans

knew nothing. The British explained that they had been hit by three Tiger tanks and a German infantry company but the attack was halted when Company A attacked the wood, threatening the Germans’ flank. The following morning 78 German officers and men surrendered to the Americans approaching from behind them. They had hidden in the wood throughout the night. Key to the success of the attack was the excellent teamwork between the British tankers and the American infantry. The former were veterans, while the Americans were in their first battle, yet they worked well together. Each soon learned to respect the other. First Lieutenant Kenneth L. Ayres of Company A, 333rd Infantry said, “I was sold on the British. Those boys were good. There’s not a man in my company who will say there’s anything wrong with a British soldier because of the support we got from those tankers.” November 21 saw heavy rains fall on the battlefield. Knowing the roads were mined, the British tanks tried to cross the muddy fields with mixed success. The infantry was also slowed down significantly by the thick mud. Lt. Col. William S. Barret’s 3rd Battalion, 333rd Infantry tried time and again to capture Müellendorf and Würm, without success. In desperation he radioed, “Tell Colonel Predley that these men are fighting and dying up here. No

W-Oct16 Geilenkirchen_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:12 AM Page 67

one is lying down. But we gotta have power to do this thing.” Once again that power came from British flamethrowing tanks, which came up and with infantry protection eliminated the pillboxes that had stopped 3rd Battalion, 333rd Infantry. The final objective, Müllendorf, lay another half-mile distant. The tanks, hauling their heavy fuel trailers, could not cross the mud flats leading to the village. The infantry tried alone, only to have one platoon enter the town and disappear. Across the Würm River the 43rd Division also found enemy opposition stiffening and was denied its objectives. A battalion of the 334th Infantry tried to take Beeck, only to be repulsed as well. Intelligence now reported that the remaining defenses of the Geilenkirchen salient were held by elements of the crack 15th Panzergrenadier Division fighting from fixed defenses after their counterattack against XIX Corps had failed. It now fell to Colonel Laurin L. Williams’ 405th Infantry Regiment, 102nd Division to try to finish the job of clearing the Geilenkirchen salient. The plan was for the 1st Battalion, 405th Infantry to bypass the town of Beeck to the east and seize the high ground north of the village. The regiment’s 2nd Battalion would attack the town frontally. At the same time, the 334th Infantry would attack from Prummern toward Beeck. The assault was set for November 21.

The 1st Battalion, 405th Infantry advanced north of Apweiler and became pinned down by heavy machine-gun fire. It took an hour to knock out some of the guns, but others kept up the fire. After American mortars opened fire the rest of the guns were silenced, and the advance continued in a heavy rain. So muddy was the ground that the infantrymen had to stop every once in a while to clean their weapons. Companies B and C joined forces on a bluff southeast of Beeck and dug in, awaiting the rest of the assault force. But they waited in vain. The 84th Infantry Division could not close the gap. Worse, heavy fire from across the Würm River prevented tank support. The 2nd Battalion, 405th Infantry was pinned down in front of Beeck. Observers reported an enemy armored counterattack organizing in Beeck. Supplies were brought up by hand after a light tank trying to supply the forward companies was knocked out. The only concrete support Companies B and C could count on was that of the 379th Field Artillery Battalion. Their fire eliminated the pending counterattack. The following morning the battalion attacked, only to discover enemy tanks in their path. The companies were soon isolated with Germans behind them. By midafternoon the enemy pressed the American perimeter. Calls for artillery support became more urgent. A

heavy XIII Corps artillery barrage stopped the enemy attack. Since the companies could not advance and no support was able to reach them, it was decided that they would withdraw, ending the Geilenkirchen salient battle. The efforts of the 84th Infantry Division and 102nd Infantry Division had in fact achieved the main objectives of Operation Clipper, removing the threat of a counterattack on the flank of XIII Corps and clearing enough area for the Ninth Army to assemble and launch its major offensive to the Roer River. Both of these had been achieved with the capture of Geilenkirchen, Prummern, and the other fortified villages in the area. On November 23, General Gillem ordered the 84th Infantry Division to assume the defensive. Eventually, the 113th Cavalry Group would take over responsibility for the zone while the infantry divisions moved into position for Ninth Army’s major offensive, Operation Grenade, to reach the Roer. The Geilenkirchen salient was no more. Nathan N. Prefer is the author of several books and articles on World War II. His latest book is titled Leyte 1944, The Soldier’s Battle. He received his Ph.D. in Military History from the City University of New York and is a former Marine Corps Reservist. Dr. Prefer is now retired and resides in Fort Myers, Florida.

OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

67

W-Oct16 Books_Layout 1 8/8/16 12:34 PM Page 68

Books

I By Christopher Miskimon I

of the Japanese. The Navy was under radio silence, so Birchall was ordered to report all sightings, friendly or enemy, to help headquarters ascertain the locations even of its own ships. The pilot flew his search area for 10 hours until he was actually 350 miles south-southeast of Ceylon, determined to find the enemy force. Just as the crew was calculating their return course a lookout spotted a ship on the horizon to the south. Birchall turned to investigate. Expecting to see a British ship, they were astounded to find an entire Japanese fleet: carriers, battleships, and destroyers accompanied by supply vessels. Birchall immediately turned north while his radioman sent an urgent message. The Japanese were also alert and sent a half-dozen Zero fighters to intercept the scout plane. The fast and nimble Zeros quickly caught up to the lumbering Catalina and poured machine-gun and cannon fire into it. A cannon shell struck the radio just as the radioman was repeating his message. A machine gunner was also hit, mangling his leg. The PBY was going down. Birchall used all his skill to keep the disintegrating plane aloft. He was able to make a water landing just as the tail broke off. The Zeros strafed the crew as they took to the water. Soon the Japanese destroyer Isokaze came along and pulled them aboard. It was not a gesture of mercy; they wanted to know whether the flyers had gotten off a message and what they knew about the British defenses. The survivors were secured inside a paint locker. Their ordeal was Japan could have thrown the British Royal Navy out of the just beginning but had not been in vain. Back in Indian Ocean in early 1942 but became overextended and Ceylon, their message was received and understood. The warning went out, but Birchall and squandered an easy victory. his men were not heard from again. The harrowing ordeal of the Catalina’s crew IN EARLY APRIL 1942, THE ROYAL NAVY WAS PREPARING FOR THE WORST IN THE was but the opening move in the Japanese attack Indian Ocean. Prior to the war this body of water was akin to an English lake, so much of it bor- on Ceylon. British Prime Minister Winston dering Imperial territory and patrolled by its warships. Now, with much of its strength needed else- Churchill found this episode of the war the one where and a new war with Japan, Britain was on the defensive. It lacked the warships and aircraft that caused him the most anxiety. Author John to engage the Japanese on an even footing. Having lost Malaya, Hong Clancy has quoted the statesman in the title of Kong, and Singapore as bases, the Royal Navy was forced back to India his new work, The Most Dangerous Moment of and Ceylon. Now those ports were threatened by a Japanese carrier the War: Japan’s Attack on the Indian Ocean, 1942 (Casemate Publishers, Havertown, PA, task force approaching from the Southwest Pacific. Despite the odds against them, the British were determined to fight 2016, 180 pp., maps, photographs, bibliograon. At 6 AM on April 4, Squadron Leader L.J. Birchall took off to pin- phy, index, $32.95, hardcover). The fighting that ensued went point the enemy fleet’s location. He was commander of Royal Canadian Air Force entirely in favor of the Japanese, No. 413 Squadron, a Canadian unit hastily sent from Squadron Leader L. J. who lost a mere handful of airScotland to aid in the battle. The Canadians had arrived Birchall photographed in craft and aviators in return for only two days before but were immediately put to work his PBY Catalina Flying British losses of more than a thousearching the vast open sea for Japanese carriers and their Boat. After spotting the sand dead, six warships, two escorts. The Canadian and his outfit of Consolidated approaching Japanese dozen merchant vessels, and more PBY Catalina Flying Boats arrived just in time; the squadron they reinforced was fleet, Birchall’s plane was than three dozen aircraft. This down to a single operational aircraft. shot down and he and his one-sided victory left the JapanBirchall’s orders were to search the area 250 miles southeast of Ceylon for signs crew taken prisoner.

Missed Opportunity

68

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

W-1stStreet PSAP Oct2016.qxp_FP 7/28/16 3:22 PM Page 1

W-Oct16 Books_Layout 1 8/8/16 12:34 PM Page 70

ese in a position to dominate the Indian Ocean and even push the British back to the eastern coast of Africa with but another slight effort. The opportunity was squandered, however, due to the overextension of Japanese forces and the need to prepare for further operations in the Pacific that were deemed more important. After the draw at Coral Sea and the staggering loss at Midway in the following months, Japan would never again be able to mount a serious naval assault in the Indian Ocean. The author’s father served aboard the cruiser HMS Cornwall, one of the ships lost in the battle, and this book is a fitting tribute to the men who served aboard all the vessels lost that tragic month. It is well researched and full of details about the British defenses and situation in and around Ceylon, details that go far in completing the story of why British leaders acted as they did at the time. The motivations of those leaders are explained without blame or excuse, presenting a balanced view of men acting under the stress of war during a critical time. Ardennes 1944: The Battle of the Bulge (Antony Beevor, Viking Press, New York, 2016, 451 pp., maps, photographs, appendix, notes, bibliography, index, $35.00, hardcover) The Ardennes operation was the last gamble of the Third Reich. Hitler threw much of his remaining combat power at the Western Allies in a desperate bid to split them at the seam between the American and British armies. If the Germans could reach Antwerp, they believed they might knock the Anglo-Canadians out of the war, giving them breathing room to better resist the approaching Soviets to the east. At first things seemed to proceed for the advancing panzers. However, the defending Americans quickly began to rally. Heroic, often sacrificial stands soon coalesced into a stiffening line of resistance. By the time it was over six weeks later, the Battle of the Bulge had resulted in some 200,000 casualties all told, but the German military’s offensive capability was broken. The Ardennes was a big battle, and it has been written about endlessly, making it difficult to find an account that does not seem redone. This book breaks out of that mold through the author’s extensive research, use of personal memoirs, and engaging prose. The author is an accomplished historian whose previous works touch on many of the major battles of the war, such as Stalingrad, Normandy, and Berlin. This new work adds the Bulge to his list of fine accomplishments. 70

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

The Three Musketeers of the Army Air Forces: From Hitler’s Fortress Europa to Hiroshima and Nagasaki (Robert O. Harder, Naval Institute Press, Annapolis, MD, 2016, 288 pp., photographs, appendix, notes, bibliography, index,

$39.95, hardcover) Long before Paul Tibbets, Tom Ferebee, and Ted Van Kirk helped end World War II by leading the world’s first nuclear strike force, they were just three of the thousands of men the United States trained to fly its bomber fleet.

New and Note wor thy Secrets of a German POW: The Capture and Interrogation of Hauptmann Herbert Cleff (Brian Brinkworth, Skyhorse Publishing, 2016, $22.99, hardcover) The story of a captured German officer who gave his interrogators information about secret Nazi projects, hinting at advanced weapons the Allies had to worry about. Lucie Aubrac: The French Resistance Heroine Who Outwitted the Gestapo (Sian Rees, Chicago Review Press, 2016, $26.99, hardcover) This account studies a famous member of the French Resistance who was later accused of being an informant. It seeks to penetrate the many claims made by and about her. Dick Cole’s War: Doolittle Raider, Hump Pilot, Air Commando (Dennis R. Okerstrom, University of Missouri Press, 2015, $29.95, hardcover) The subject of this book flew in the famous Doolittle Raid in April 1942 before spending the rest of the war flying missions from India. His adventures are related in great detail. Abducting a General: The Kreipe Operation in Crete (Patrick Leigh Fermor, New York Review Books, 2015, $24.95, hardcover) The author is a veteran of the famous Special Operations Executive. This is his personal account of the mission to kidnap a German general in 1944. Daily Life in Wartime Japan 1940-1945 (Samuel Hideo Yamashita, University Press of Kansas, 2016, $29.95, hardcover) A study of what Japanese civilian life was like during World War II. It includes their opinions and beliefs as the war turned against their country. American Warlords: How Roosevelt’s High Command Led America to Victory in World War II (Jonathan W. Jordan, NAL Caliber, 2015, $28.95, hardcover) This work examines how President Roosevelt’s team of politicians and military officers worked to achieve ultimate triumph. Both their strengths and flaws are studied. From Day to Day: One Man’s Diary of Survival in Nazi Concentration Camps (Odd Nansen, Vanderbilt University Press, 2016, $39.95, hardcover) The author is a Norwegian who was arrested by the Nazis and spent the rest of the war in various camps. This book is a diary he secretly kept during his ordeal. Fight to the Finish: Canadians in the Second World War 1944-1945 (Tim Cook, Penguin Random House, 2015, $40.00, hardcover) This is an in-depth account of the Canadian experience in the European Theater. It includes veteran interviews and evaluations of their actions. US Infantryman vs German Infantryman: European Theater of Operations 1944 (Steven J. Zaloga, Osprey Publishing, 2016, $18.95, softcover) A comparison of the American and German fighting forces from D-Day to the Ardennes, including examples of notable battlefield actions. Valentine Infantry Tank: 1938-45 (Bruce Oliver Newsome, Osprey Publishing, 2016, $18.00, softcover) This tank was intended as a stopgap for the British Army but wound up being produced in greater numbers than any of their designs. The tank and its variants served in every theater of the war.

W-Oct16 Books_Layout 1 8/8/16 12:35 PM Page 71

After training in the U.S. came missions over Europe from bases in England during 1942. Tibbets was quickly promoted to lieutenant colonel for his leadership ability. In October 1942, Tibbets and Van Kirk flew General Mark Clark to Gibraltar for his secret mission related to the Torch landings in North Africa that November. Afterward Tibbets was attached to the famous General Jimmy Doolittle’s staff for a time before receiving the assignment that would make him famous. He was placed in charge of the mission that would deliver the atomic bomb. This meant training in the U.S. followed by a move to the Pacific island of Tinian, where the three aviators prepared for one of the most daunting— and destructive—missions in history. Drawing on his own experience as a navigator and bombardier aboard a B-52 bomber during the Cold War, the author brings together the stories of these three men using in-depth interviews, well thought out research, and technical accuracy. He dispels several of the mistakes about the atomic missions that have crept into the accepted narrative over previous decades. Overall, the book is well written, clear, and engaging, a fascinating look at America’s original atomic warriors. Where Divers Dare: The Hunt for the Last U-Boat (Randall Peffer, Berkley Caliber, New York, 2016, 320 pp., photographs, index, $28.00, hardcover) On the morning of April 16, 1944, the German submarine U-550 sank the large American tanker SS Pan Pennsylvania in the cold waters off of Nantucket, Massachusetts. The U-boat’s captain recalled seeing a number of bombers lashed to the ship’s deck before firing on it. Soon after the attack, a trio of American destroyer escorts raced to the area and attacked the evading sub, using depth charges to force it to the surface. Once its battered hull popped the American ships pummeled it with a barrage of cannon fire. The German sailors showed a white flare as a signal of surrender, their boat sinking rapidly. Only 13 made it out of the submarine and into American hands after one of the destroyer escorts comes alongside to rescue them. The story continues decades later in 2012. The author and several companions, all divers, began a search for the long lost U-550. It was the last undiscovered U-boat off the American coast located in waters that were considered

undiveable. They had interviewed survivors to gain information about the sub before beginning a series of dives, some of them quite risky. Their tenacious efforts would pay off with the discovery of U-550 and startling evidence about what happened to the rest of the submarine’s crew that day. The book reads as a nautical detective story, the author and his fellow divers piecing together the events surrounding the sinking as a mystery to be solved. The Castaway’s War: One Man’s Battle Against Imperial Japan (Stephen Harding, Da Capo Press, Boston, MA, 2016, maps, photographs, notes, bibliography, index, $26.99, hardcover) In the dead of night on July 5, 1943, the American destroyer USS Strong was part of a task force steaming through the Kula Gulf on a mission to attack the forces of the Japanese Empire. As the five American ships sailed through the dark waters, they met an enemy squadron of four destroyers, and a fierce battle began. During the action a Japanese Type 93 Long Lance torpedo rushed through the water and struck the Strong, breaking its keel and causing flooding and fires. The hapless ship soon sank into the Pacific, leaving scores of sailors drifting. Most of the survivors were rescued by the remaining American ships. One man, Lieutenant Hugh Barr Miller, was not saved. He drifted on a floater net until being washed ashore on Arundel Island. He was hurt, and the island was also home to a pair of Japanese infantry regiments. Despite his injuries, Miller resolved to learn as much as he could about the Japanese in the area. When he was rescued 39 days later, his information proved valuable to the Allied forces. During his time on the island he also waged war against the Japanese, using captured grenades to attack patrols and machine gunners. This is an inspiring story of what a single man is capable of when he keeps his wits about him. The author shows how Miller managed to survive and take the war to his opponents. He also explains the larger events occurring in the area at that time, weaving large and small events together to give the reader an interesting tale of survival, endurance, and hardship. War at the End of the World: Douglas MacArthur and the Forgotten Fight for New Guinea, 1942-1945 (James P. Duffy, NAL Caliber, New

York, 2016, 436 pp., maps, photographs, notes, bibliography, index, $28.00, hardcover) Seizing the island of New Guinea was a cornerstone of Japanese strategy in World War II. Holding it would help in the effort to knock Australia out of the war and protect other places the Japanese had taken and needed to hold. The Allies knew this and committed hundreds of thousands of troops to the struggle for the island over four years. The fighting there turned into a desperate slugging match as each army vied for control. In addition to the fighting, both armies had to contend with the horrors of New Guinea itself, fetid swamps, rough mountains, impenetrable jungles, and fast-moving rivers. The insects, heat, monsoon rains, and disease endemic to the island took a horrific toll on the soldiers sent to fight—and die—there. This is a full and complete look at a campaign that is still largely unknown today despite its importance in the conduct of the war. The author brings to life both the terrible conditions and the rough courage shown by the soldiers having to endure them. It is a fitting testimonial to the suffering and sacrifice shown by both sides. The History of the Panzerwaffe, Volume 1: 1939-42 (Thomas Anderson, Osprey Publishing, Oxford, UK, 2016, 304 pp., maps, photographs, bibliography, index, $39.95, hardcover) The armored branch of the German Army laid the foundation for tank warfare up to the modern day. It took a series of experiments and theories from across the world and formed them into a coherent doctrine that took the Nazi war machine through a series of victories between 1939 and 1942. The panzer troops were so successful that they struck fear into their opponents despite the fact that the bulk of their army was still moving by horse and on foot. Tank crews were considered among the elite of the military, and their achievements backed that claim. This is both a technical and operational history of the German tank arm during the height of its accomplishments. The author looks at the panzer’s origins and early uses, such as during the Spanish Civil War, before moving on to World War II. He uses developmental reports, combat records, and the writings of the tank crews to create a well-blended look at how tanks were used at the war’s beginning. The book is also full of period photographs, many from previously unused collections, providing a look at these war machines in action. OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

71

W-Oct16 Books_Layout 1 8/8/16 12:35 PM Page 72

Simulation Gaming

BY JOSEPH LUSTER

FURY SOFTWARE DIGS INTO CLASSIC HEX-BASED WORLD WAR II STRATEGY, AND WE CHECK IN ON DRIVEN ARTS’ SUCCESSFULLY CROWDFUNDED SHOOTER. STRATEGIC COMMAND WWII: WAR IN EUROPE PUBLISHER SLITHERINE • GENRE STRATEGY • PLATFORM PC • AVAILABLE NOW (BETA) When it comes to strategy games, it doesn’t get more classic than topdown, hex-based maps. That’s the style developer Fury Software (Global Conflict, WWI Breakthrough, Assault on Communism, and many more in the Strategic Command series) is aiming to return to with Strategic Command WWII: War in Europe. Anyone who has played their previous titles knows that Fury is heavily focused on substance over style, putting realistic portrayals of the strategy behind the world’s greatest conflicts at the forefront, and War in Europe looks to keep that tradition going with an ever so slightly upgraded aesthetic. While this isn’t the flashy style of strategy some folks may be used to, everything else necessary for a deep dive into World War II is present and accounted for. Currently in the beta phase on PC, War in Europe will ultimately let players do battle across land, air, and sea using a variety of historical units while expanding what they have at their disposal through the process of research and development. In addition to dealing with combat and the struggle of limited resources, other tools at players’ disposal include diplomacy and espionage. As tends to be the case with the more hardcore strategy games, you won’t just need to worry about what’s going down on the battlefield, you’ll also need to manage your relationships with neutral powers, encouraging or pressuring them to join you, deny resources to the enemy, and so on. War in Europe is as much about making wide-ranging political decisions as it is managing resources on a day-to-day basis. Fury Software’s games are known for their unforgiving AI, and that looks to be the standard here as well. If you attack the enemy, you had better be prepared for a thoughtful counterattack. They won’t just mindlessly fire back, they will work to exploit your weaknesses, set traps for your troops, and essentially bat every volley back with the same degree of ruthless cunning you send in their direction. That’s been the hook of the Strategic Command series for a while now, and the level of strategic intricacy involved is pretty much what has kept it ticking in the minds of fans for years despite a lack of visual flair. Some of the features of War in Europe include the ability to take command of the Axis and the Allied forces, a realistic Fog of War that simulates attempting to do battle without full knowledge of your opponent’s whereabouts and intentions, the option to play with 3D unit graphics or more traditional NATO counters, and more. If playing against the AI gets old or, more likely, too stressful, you can always take the battle online against friends or complete strangers. There’s also an intuitive editor that will let you create your own unique scenarios with new maps and campaigns that spin a “what if” yarn using all the available tools of war. If you’re already familiar with the Strategic Command series, you definitely know

72

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

what you’re getting into when War in Europe hits PC this fall. For anyone else who is similarly serious about their strategy, take a moment to get past the plain visuals and you might find Fury’s brand of hardcore tactics have a pretty strong hook of their own.

UPDATE DAYS OF WAR PUBLISHER DRIVEN ARTS • GENRE SHOOTER • PLATFORM PC • AVAILABLE 2016 We recently covered Driven Arts’ Days of War, a project that aims to deliver a “fiercely competitive shooter in a visually stunning WWII environment” and takes inspiration from Day of Defeat: Source, a team-based first-person WWII shooter from Valve (Half-Life, Team Fortress, Portal, Left 4 Dead) that originally hit PC back in 2005. Last time we wrote about the game, its second, retooled Kickstarter campaign was well on the way to success, so now is the perfect time to take a look at how the project has progressed since it was fully funded. While extra PayPal donations are currently still being accepted, the end of the official Days of War campaign had the shooter sitting at a solid $65,508 of an initial $20,000 goal. That got them through three of their seven proposed stretch goals, including the addition of Early Access on Steam, as well as British and Russian forces. On top of that, Driven Arts pledged to match funds generated on Kickstarter up to $100k, so they have a nice budget to work with throughout the development process. As Driven Arts points out in one of their updates, it’s not a massive sum for video game development in general, but the $130,000 budget they ended up with is still large for a “small, nimble studio.” Speaking of which, at the time of this writing said development is in the Alpha testing phase, allowing for a small set of players to provide feedback for improvements. According to Driven Arts that’s what 100% of their crowdfunding is going toward, and the improvements include upgraded environment assets, new character models, new sound effects, an original score, refined motion-capture animations, authentically scanned WWII weapons, and additional maps. Funding through avenues like Kickstarter should always be considered more of a gamble than an investment, but so far it seems as if Days of War is on the right track.

W-Oct16 Insight_Layout 1 8/8/16 11:48 AM Page 73

insight Continued from page 21 need to wait a little while. It is good news to see you.” Dynsor’s men escorted Pushbach and his prize crew to the Norwegian boats. The Flint’s crew showed no hostility to the Germans. Instead they helped them over the side as if they were old friends. Of course, the crew remained wary; the Germans had left before and then returned. Overjoyed, the American sailors lowered the German flag and ran up the Stars and Stripes. Within a few hours, City of Flint pulled up anchor, and Gainard set course for Bergen, Norway. Accompanied by two Norwegian ships, the American freighter sailed into Bergen harbor on November 4. On that day in Washington, D.C., President Roosevelt signed the joint resolution passed by Congress the previous day that would eliminate another Flint incident: cash and carry. The resolution lifted the American embargo on the sale of arms and ammunition to belligerents, who were now allowed to purchase war goods with cash and then carry them away in their own ships. Furthermore, the resolution gave the president the right to set up a combat zone in European waters that barred American vessels. In what sounded like an ultimatum, Berlin protested Norway’s actions and demanded the ship’s return. Hitler’s government soon tired of the incident and let it fade away. Gainard and his crew received a hero’s welcome in Bergen, where they left the ship for the first time since they boarded her in New York more than a month earlier. Gainard met the American consul, who prepared a radio hookup so the American captain could tell his story to the world. In line with Gainard’s efficient Yankee ways, he spoke for only 12 minutes. On January 27, 1940, the now famous Hog Island freighter SS City of Flint sailed into Baltimore harbor. The night before, captain and crew had listened to radio commentator Lowell Thomas add his conclusion to the incident: “City of Flint is coming through the Virginia Capes again back from her odyssey, just a rusty piece of junk, bound for the bone yard.” “No!” wrote Gainard in his biography, “A freight ship is no thing, Mr. Thomas, she’s my home ... good enough to be the home of a crew of officers and sailors, and good enough to carry the cargo of American manufacturers to all the world—she’s no pile of junk!” And her captain was no ordinary captain. Author Earl Rickard is a resident of Reno, Nevada. This article is his first contribution to WWII History magazine.

WWII HISTORY Attention Subscribers Important Note From the Publisher: Suspicious Phone Calls/Letters Some of our readers have received suspicious phone calls or offers in the mail to renew their subscription to this magazine. Follow these steps to make sure your renewal is legitimate: 1. Make sure the renewal notice sent to you lists the date your subscription expires. Check that date against the label on your magazine, which also lists your expiration date. The dates should match. 2. Do not respond to a telephone solitation for a renewal unless your subscription has expired. We do not phone subscribers until their subscription expires. 3. Make sure the return envelopes in your renewal notice go to this magazine in Williamsport, PA. 4. If you are uncertain about any offer you receive, call us at 1-800-219-1187 (toll free).

OCTOBER 2016 WWII HISTORY

73

W-Oct16 Ordnance_Layout 1 8/9/16 10:32 AM Page 74

ordnance

WWII HISTORY AT YOUR SERVICE… To serve you better, we’ve just opened a new state of the art customer service center, staffed with our own employees. Have a question about your subscription?Need To Change Your Address? Want to buy a gift subscription?Now, it’s easier than ever! FAX US... Just jot down your name address and your question, and how/when we can reach you, and fax your subscription inquiry to: 570-322-2063, c/o: Customer Service. CALL US... If you need immediate assistance, call us at our new customer service line: 800-219-1187. EMAIL US... [email protected] WRITE US... If you’re more comfortable with “snail mail”, or if you need to send us some type of documents, contact us at: Sovereign Media Company, c/o: Customer Service, 1000 commerce Park Drive, Suite 300, Williamsport, PA 17701 GREAT CUSTOMER SERVICE IS OUR #1 PRIORITY. YOU DESERVE IT!

74

WWII HISTORY OCTOBER 2016

top secret Continued from page 11

Continued from page 27

The 200 horsepower Warner Super Scarab, 7- cylinder, air-cooled radial powerplant sat just abaft the cockpit. Mounted backward, a drive shaft stretched rearward and connected to a short drive shaft running to the main gearbox. Shafts from the gearbox drove the main and tail rotors. The fuselage was of two-piece construction bolted together just aft of the powerplant. “The aft structure was almost entirely round steel tubing, but the forward part also included square-section steel tubing and wooden stringers,” commented one aircraft expert. “The after framework was covered with doped fabric to reduce drag. Zippers were sewn into the fabric at various locations to allow access to components for inspection and maintenance. The forward structure, containing the engine compartment and cockpit, was covered with removable panels made from thin sheets of dural (hardened aluminum alloy) or magnesium alloy. The fuselage framework was constructed almost entirely of 4130 chromemolybdenum steel thin wall tubing.” The XR-4 was initially designed with three tail rotors, a single vertical tail rotor flanked by a pair of horizontal rotors. This configuration gave way to a single vertical antitorque rotor. The main rotor was three blades, 38 feet in diameter and tapered. “The blades were primarily of wooden construction,” said author Thomas H. Lawrence. “The main rotor blade had a steel tube at the quarter chord location. Ribs, built-up from plywood, were placed along the spar using brackets to hold against the centrifugal force. The forward part of the airfoil was covered with this plywood to provide a smooth surface and increase stiffness, while the aft part was covered with fabric to reduce weight and maintain the blade center-of-gravity forward of the quarter chord location. The training edges of the ribs were tied together by steel strapping to maintain the airfoil contour and resist edgewise bending caused by Coriolis forces.” The landing gear of the R-4 featured a tail wheel plus two other wheels mounted on struts that were affixed to each side of the fuselage abaft the pilot and observer. A skid was available for the nose to prevent rollovers, or the wheels could be removed and replaced by a pair of pontoons.

guns multiplied by the size provides a warship’s Total Gun Caliber (TGC). This is only meant as a means of ranking a ship’s gun size. Another formula, Total Weight of Broadside (TWB) is also used to help the ranking. Many other factors need to be considered, such as range, rate of fire, fire control, and accuracy. Bismarck, as a new, highly advanced warship with state-of-the-art German engineering, was arguably technologically superior to anything in the Royal Navy in 1941. After a careful look at the TGC and TWB ratings, some surprising results emerge. Japan’s Yamato, with a TGC of 168 ranks second behind the Japanese battleship Nagato at 198. Yet as TWB is rated the numbers are reversed. Nagato could fire a heavier broadside than her newer, bigger descendant. Interestingly, the U.S Navy’s Arizona and Tennessee had the same 168 TGC as Yamato, although their gun range and weight of broadside were inferior. Overall, Japan’s battlewagons rank highest while the United States and Great Britain hover above France and Italy. The mighty Bismarck, the “terror of the seas” as Johnny Horton’s 1959 novelty song proclaimed, is dead last. Hood and Bismarck were evenly matched. Both had a TGC of 120 and a nearly identical TWB of 7.238 tons and 6.857 tons, respectively. In fact, Hood’s shells weighed 1,900 pounds while her opponent fired 1,800-pound projectiles. Even with heavier shells, Hood’s 29,000-meter range was 6,000 meters shorter than Bismarck’s. Only Bismarck’s range and gunnery was superior. In the end, it was a lack of armor protection that doomed Hood. So how did the world come to accept the boast? Bismarck was only considered the most powerful battleship in the world long after she had been sunk. It was part of the legend. And the Royal Navy, having lost the vaunted Hood and then destroying the German behemoth, looked better if Bismarck had been the superior vessel. The truth is, for just nine short days, Bismarck was the newest and most advanced battleship in the world. Sooner or later she would have met her match, as all boastful bullies eventually do.

Author Mark Albertson resides in Norwalk, Connecticut. He last contributed to WWII History on the Nazi-Soviet Non-aggression pact of 1939.

Author Mark Carlson has written on numerous topics related to World War II and the history of aviation. His book Flying on Film—A Century of Aviation in the Movies 1912-2012 was recently released. He resides in San Diego, California.

W-Macromark Vesele Oct2016.qxp_FP 8/4/16 12:10 PM Page 1

W-Case&Sons FP Oct2016.qxp_FP 8/4/16 12:16 PM Page 1