I guess this is largely an occasion for reminiscing, and since this season marks the fortieth anniversary of a quite traumatic experience, the Battle of the Bulge in WWII, I have given it much thought. My old buddies, Spitler and Neunhoeffer, wouldn't let me forget it either in their Christmas messages. Two days before my 30th birthday we were overrun by the Nazis. The famous offensive actually started a day earlier, on December 16, but did not engulf the area we were in until a day later. Saturday, the 16th evening, our small detachment entertained a Belgian physician and his wife who covered the Malmedy region for the Belgian Red Cross. Earlier that day a Lieutenant and I (still a Staff Sergeant then) had gone to explore the countryside. Heavy snow had fallen, and it was quite cold. In an abandoned farmhouse we found two sets of skis, but only two poles. We snapped the skis on and had a pretty good time in the hilly countryside, even though the skis were not exactly our size and we had only one pole apiece. At any rate, we got around faster than on foot in the deep snow. After a while I felt somewhat uncomfortable because I kept on hearing small arms fire. But Harold Laikind (the lieutenant) who never acknowledged that there was a war on just ignored it. We encountered only few soldiers. The region we were in was not defended. Our detachment had moved in with the Fifth Armoured Division. But a couple of weeks earlier it had been pulled out, and this German-Belgian border country had been left exposed, a so-called strategic risk area. The village we were billeted in [Waimes] had only an American hospital and a company of Engineers. Our Detachment took care of civil affairs matters. That was why we hosted the Belgian doctor. Our party went very well, plenty of food and wine, the latter courtesy of the local priest. Early next morning, about 6 AM, we were awakened by heavy knocking at our door. Neunhoeffer and I went to open the door and faced heavily bundled-up American officers and soldiers. We knew that an offensive had been planned, in fact the roads were lined with supplies and ammunition in preparation for this. We asked whether the forward drive had begun, but they laughed and told us that they were retreating, that the Germans were on their heels and that we better evacuate. This was easier said than done. You cannot just leave your post without orders, and we had no communications to the rear. Our phones got no reply. Spitler, our commanding officer, went to the Engineers who were preparing to move out without orders, then to the hospital which proposed to stay on. Julius and I went to a command post of the 99th Infantry Division not too far away to the North and found it abandoned. Maps and other sensitive material were on the walls or strewn about. No time to take them down - we just placed magnesium bombs and set it afire. By about noon Spitler decided to take the initiative and move us out. We packed in a hurry - only Laikind dallied and had to be helped. In the confusion I forgot my most valuable possession, a pair of high galoshes. Then we got into our two jeeps with trailers and took off for Malmedy imbibing some liqueur left over from the party. Julius Neunhoeffer and Will Thorp driving like madmen with the gas pedal on the floor board got us to Malmedy in record time. Earlier that morning we had encountered dazed stragglers from the 106th Infantry Div. which had arrived a couple of weeks earlier. It was made up of very young kids who simply did not have a chance. We kept on meeting them on our way to Malmedy. But the jeeps were full, and we could not give them a ride. Malmedy was crowded with soldiers. Nobody knew what was going on. Everything was confused. We were told to go on to Spa, a Belgian resort where Army Headquarters was located. When we arrived there we encountered some familiar faces. People looked at us in a strange way as if we were ghosts. We soon found out that we had been reported captured and killed. This was our first information about the infamous Malmedy massacre where troops of Sepp Dietrich's SS Armoured Division had captured and murdered some 80 American soldiers. I guess we owed our lives to the mad Texans who drove our jeeps under the influence of Cointreau. We had missed the crossroads by 5-10 minutes according to our watches.
In Malmedy we had come under strafing from our own planes who had thought that the town had been captured by the Germans. In Spa we were bivouacked in the beautiful Casino, sleeping on the floor, and there we were bombed by the Germans and eventually spent the night in the cellar. I have no recollection for this. Julius told me the next morning that he led me down the stairs while I was sound asleep and probably dead drunk. I vaguely recall a circular staircase - that's all. This was the day before my thirtieth birthday. The next day I was supposed to present myself to a Board of Officers for selection for a Battlefield Commission for which I had been recommended some weeks earlier. Julius insisted on driving me there - about 29-30 miles away. The roads were jammed with vehicles. We got stuck in a munitions convoy, and I was sure that this would be my last birthday. One bomb and the whole thing would have been blown to kingdom come. Luckily it was a very cloudy day, and the German Luftwaffe stayed home. I did meet the Board, was approved, but with the vicissitudes of the fierce fighting that followed, it took me three more months to be promoted. The mail was not so good, we moved about a lot and finally I could not find a field grade officer in the Adjutant General's Corps to discharge me from the Army as an enlisted man and commission me as officer.
Somewhat miraculously our supplies caught up with us including a bird for Christmas - I don't remember if it was a turkey or a goose Anyway we spent the day in Herve, a small Belgian town, and the wife of the local veterinarian roasted it for us, and of course the whole family joined us for the feast. But the same day we moved on to another town where we stayed till New Year.
[Letter to Eleanor Silberman, December 22, 1984]
In December of 1944 we got word to move out of Waimes to Spa to headquarters. On December 16, 1944 we left. There was a school house South of Malmedy near Waimes that the US Army had been working in. It had art objects and they were cataloging them Two of my men had gone to see it earlier. We passed by there on December 16. About12 hours later the famous Mālmedy massacre took place. SS troops took US servicemen as POWS and marched them out into a field and put their faces down in the snow and shot them. It was really murder. If we had not left when we did we would have been killed. The day before the massacres started I commented to my men that this area was a great place for a surprise attack. That is just what happened on December 17, 1944. We had to get around Malmedy to get to Spa. We were not a combat unit. We passed a medic unit on the way. We told them there were Germans coming. The Major Doctor said, "What should we do? I said "Why get the hell out of Here." We helped them load their wounded on stretchers and line them up in the ambulances and we sent them up to Spa. They did make it.