Battle in the Bulge: A Wartime Report

Infantrymen man their .30 caliber machine gun, 84th Infantry Division, Odrimont, Belgium, 6 January 1945.

by Theodore Draper, Sergeant, U.S. Army

If we did nothing else in the Ardennes, we de­stroyed the myth that the woods and hills of that historically famous battle region are “im­pene­trable.” The Ger­mans began the dem­on­stra­tion in 1940 but their feat was too one-sided to be con­vinc­ing. They proved it was possible for an army to go through the Ardennes but they did not prove it was possible to fight through it. They met real opposition only twice and both times it was a fight of a few hours in clearings within the forest. Above all, the Germans carefully chose the very best time of the year, in May, as if to emphasize that special con­di­tions were necessary. In January 1945, however, we had to fight for practically every hill, wood, village, and road, in the very worst time of the year, on ice as slick as grease and in snow waist-high, against skillful and stub­born op­po­si­tion.

The classic, offensive campaign of the Ar­dennes has been fought and we fought it. Nothing that hap­pened in 1940 (or 1914) can be compared to it.

The terrain in the Ardennes is like a jigsaw puz­zle. Somehow all of it fits together but some­how all of it can be taken apart and the pieces fall into the oddest shapes. Each hill and wood is like a separate com­part­ment and tactically each one becomes a distinct prob­lem.

In this rolling country, there is commanding high ground in almost every mile so that an over­night with­drawal from one hill of defense to the next is relatively easy. The villages and frag­ments of vil­lages (the tough­est “village” to take in our of­fen­sive had a sin­gle house) are in­var­i­a­bly astride the roads and inev­i­ta­bly become en­emy strong points. The woods might have been planned by a master strategist to hold pock­ets of resistance. A con­tin­u­ous offensive or defensive line is impossible. Strong points and pockets of re­sist­ance are everything. That is why the battle had such a cut-up, piecemeal character.

The German bulge was hit from three sides. The Third Army came up from the south, from Bas­togne. The First Army came down from the north, from both sides of Manhay. A British corps attacked from the west, from Marche. To get the whole story, then, at least three large phases have to be covered.

The main effort, however, was made by the First Army, from the north. The Third Army’s progress was aided by the pressure the First Army exerted from the north. The British were stalled at the most difficult stage of the drive.

In the First Army’s sector, four divisions were in­volved: the 84th and 83rd Infantry Divisions and the 2nd and 3rd Armored Division. In its con­cep­tion, the action was an armor-infantry job … the 84th Infantry Division was teamed with the 2nd Ar­mored, the 83rd with the 3rd Ar­mored. But the main effort was as­signed to the 2nd Armored and 84th Infantry Di­vi­sions … both Laroche and Houf­falize were in their zone of advance.

This offensive from the north was launched be­tween two rivers, the Ourthe and the Salm. By re-taking the ground between these two rivers as far as Houffalize, we would hammer a huge wedge through two-thirds of the bulge. The area between the Ourthe and the Salm was cut almost exactly in half by the road which ran from Man­hay to Houf­falize (for con­ven­ience, it will be called the Houf­falize Road). This road was the boundary be­tween the 2nd Armored/84th Infantry team and the 3rd Armored/83rd Infantry team, with the first of these teams on the west near the Ourthe, the second on the east near the Salm.

We, the 2nd Armored Division and the 84th In­fan­try Division, were attacking on a front about nine miles wide. The first series of enemy strong points were strung out just below the road from Hotton to Manhay. These strongpoints were Trinal, Magoster, Armonines, Lamor­menil, Frey­neux, Odeigne; less than fifty houses in the largest place. Our objective was Houffalize, about 16 miles to the southeast. The Third Army, in order to get Houf­falize from the bottom of the Bulge, had about half as far to go.

Our zone between the Ourthe River and the Houf­falize Road was cut in half by a small stream, the Aisne. As a result, at least in the first six days, there were two distinct sectors and the 2nd Armored Di­vi­sion started the attack with two combat com­mands abreast … Combat Command A extending from the Ourthe to the Aisne, Combat Command B from the Aisne to the Houffalize Road. In turn each combat command was made up of three task forces. The set-up was com­pli­cated, evidence that the ter­rain was com­pli­cated.

Although our ultimate objective was Houf­falize, a midway objective was the road from Laroche to the vital intersection with the Houf­falize Road (we will call this other road the La­roche Road). The decisive phase of the battle was fought out above the Laroche Road in the first week of our attack. By getting to Laroche and especially to the all-important in­ter­sec­tion, we would deprive the enemy of the only two good roads which he could use to salvage his forces in the bulge. The mouth of his bulge would be re­duced to the danger point at La­roche to dis­as­ter at Houffalize.

The only division in the entire drive which I was able to watch at close range was the 84th Infantry Division, but it happened to be placed at the very center of the main effort. One of its regiments drove down to Laroche and another to Houffalize. And there is something else that must be emphasized. Although originally planned as an armored of­fen­sive, with the infantry in support, the battle of the Ardennes bulge quickly became an infantry attack primarily, with the armor used only as the ground permitted. To that extent, this may be a contribution to the story which is not only typical of the rest but which also traces the line of the main thrust.

D-day was 3 January 1945. H-hour was 0830. The 2nd Armored Division, to which our 335th Infantry was temporarily attached, attacked to the southeast. The enemy was surprised. Some pris­on­ers were cap­tured asleep. Until noon, we forged ahead steadily. The en­emy’s outpost line was broken through without much difficulty. The en­emy’s front was held by three divisions: the 2nd SS Panzer Division on the right near the Ourthe; the 560th Volksgrenadier Division in the center; and the 12th Volksgrenadier Division on the left near the Houf­falize Road.

But that morning, in a more important way, our luck ran out. It snowed. Sleet and rain fell in spasms. From early morning the roads were icy. The tem­per­a­ture shot down till the ground was like steel. Tank treads slipped and slid as if the tanks were drunk. Every time a tank skidded, a column was held up. Sometimes the tanks skidded just far enough to block the road.

Trinal was easy. We went in by 0930. By noon, however, resistance was more highly or­gan­ized and effective. Magoster was harder to crack. After our tanks were held up at several points by enemy ba­zoo­kas and anti-tank guns, we were able to move in and pass through. The main objective that day was Devan­tave. Between Ma­goster and Devantave were a cluster of woods and a hill. The tanks could not get through the woods and our infantry had to push ahead. We got through the woods safely and one company stepped out to cross the hill. Eighty-eights were waiting for them. Eighty-eights and rockets and mortars swept the hill and crashed into the woods. We had to pull back. Light tanks were used to evacuate the wounded; noth­ing else was possible in the snow. At 1500, we again tried to take De­vantave but again we could not get over the hill. We withdrew for the night east of Ma­goster.

Farther west that day, it was the same. One com­pany went into Beffe but had to withdraw at night to high ground above the village. Only on the left flank, between the Aisne and the Houf­falize Road, was our progress easier. By night, we cleaned out the woods above Od­iegne. There was no resistance.

In general, then, the result of the first day’s fight­ing was inconclusive. We had advanced from 1,500 to 2,000 yards, but the enemy’s strong­points at Beffe and Devan­tave had frustrated us. It was clear that the en­emy was making his main defensive effort on our right flank, between the Ourthe and the Aisne, and his heav­i­est op­po­si­tion was reserved for the right sector of the right flank, the hills, woods and villages nearest the Ourthe. This showed that Laroche was the Ger­man commander’s most sen­si­tive point.

It was still snowing. That was more important than anything else. The roads were bad enough. Icy roads were almost impossible. The hills and woods were for­mi­da­ble obstacles. Knee-deep snow on the hills and wood threatened to give us more trouble than anything the enemy could mus­ter.

For four days, we tugged and pulled around Beffe and Devantave. They were the hardest four days the men in this action had ever spent and most of them were veterans of many actions. Then we began to cash in.

The problem of Beffe was typical. It was not so much that the enemy had left strong forces in Beffe itself. It was rather that he was able to pour a deadly fire into Beffe from very favorable posi­tions … from the Consy ridge, about 1,000 yards to the southeast, from the Moulin de Bardonive, about 1,000 yards to the south­west, and from the direction of Rendeux Bas, a tiny village on the other side of the Ourthe in the British sector. His trump card was direct and observed fire. Al­though much of the heaviest fight­ing went on for Beffe itself, the basic problem of this phase of the attack was really the Consy ridge.

The capture of Beffe was also typical. On 4 Jan­u­ary 1945 the village was subjected to an intense ar­til­lery bombardment. At 1105, Com­pany B, 335th In­fan­try, began to move in. Mean­while, Company C, 335th In­fan­try, retook Ma­goster and continued on to Beffe. By 1400, both companies made contact at the southern edge of Beffe and dug in. The vil­lage was practically deserted.

In effect, after holding us up for a day at Beffe, the enemy was content to give it up, only to fall back to another easily defended position a thousand yards behind. From the first, then, his objective was not so much to hold on to any par­tic­u­lar piece of ground at all cost as to delay us and extort the high­est possible price for our gains.

Devantave was another deserted village. After our first right flank, we organized another attempt, this time from Amonines on the left. At dawn 6 January 1945, Company I, 335th In­fan­try, followed by me­dium tanks, and Company K, 335th Infantry, followed by light tanks, jumped off. By 0930, the tanks had reached the edge of Devantave. At 1100, Company I moved into the western half, Company K the eastern half. Re­sist­ance inside the village was light. By 1210, occupation was complete.

With the capture of Magoster, Beffe and De­vantave, a deep hole was driven in the crust of the enemy’s de­fen­sive position on the right flank of our zone. The stage was set for an attack on his most troublesome position, Consy, the “village” with a single house.

Meanwhile, we were still progressing easily on our left flank between the Aisne and the Houf­falize Road. The 3rd Battalion, 333rd Infantry, went into action on the second day, 4 January 1945. Company K was sent into Lamormenil, Company L into Frey­neux and Com­pany I into the woods west of Lamor­menil. All three were taken without difficulty. Tanks went into the vil­lage before the infantry. At nightfall, 5 January 1945, Com­pany C and the 1st Platoon of Com­pany D, 333rd In­fan­try, plus one platoon of a tank battalion, moved out of Le Batty to Odeigne. They met enemy small arms fire but not artillery. The village was completely taken by 1300 the next day, 6 January 1945. We did not suffer a single casualty.

By the time we took Devantave, it was clear that the original plan which gave the infantry a sup­port­ing role was not working out. The terrain and the weather were against it and they won. The victory of the ele­ments gave the infantry the main job.

The Ardennes is neither roadless nor rich in roads. A British source has estimated that thirteen sep­a­rate first-class roads cross the Ardennes from Ger­many to France. There are perhaps three secondary roads for every first-class one and numerous trails. But so many pass through long stretches of woods, so many teeter on the edge of cliffs and wind up and down and around the ines­cap­a­ble hills. In May, too, the possibilities of resistance in the Ardennes would be immense. In January, in snow that keeps piling up from the ankle to the knee, from the knee to the waist, only a little effort is necessary to turn pos­si­bil­i­ties into realities.

All vehicles have to stick to roads to get an­y­where, only more often than not they cannot stick to roads be­cause they are constantly sliding off. The next best thing is to proceed slowly and care­fully but then your vehicles may miss the jump-off by hours and the in­fan­try has gone off alone. Is it curious that a terrain that is con­sid­ered too tough for a tank is never considered too tough for a Doughboy?

As a result of the problems which arose in the first four days for the armor, after Devantave was taken, more clearly defined zones for the armor and the in­fan­try began to emerge. From Devantave, the 2nd Armored Division, with the 335th Infantry still at­tached, veered off more sharply to the southeast to get to Samree through Dochamps, while the 84th Infantry Division assumed responsibility for the drive south­ward to La­roche and for the Laroche Road as far as Sam­ree.

One thing stood out again. When nothing else moved, the Doughboys moved and they moved long and often. And what was it like for them?

It took a good two hours to get through the fro­zen crust of earth. It took two or three hours more to get down as far as three feet. Not only was dig­ging a foxhole a job in which a whole day’s energies could be con­sumed, but it was practically impossible to dig a really good foxhole at least five feet deep. The weather con­tin­ued to get colder and colder until it went well below freezing and stayed there. This meant there was only one thing worse than not sleep­ing … and that was sleeping. The quickest way to freeze is to lie still. Men went to sleep in over­coats, when they had them, and woke up encased in icy boards. It was practically impossible to bring up supplies and rations in anything but half-tracks. Water congealed in canteens. Frostbite was as dan­ger­ous as all the Krauts and their guns put together.

The Doughboys who went into Devantave fought ninety-six hours without a break and they were not through by a long shot.

We took Consy the way we took most of the strong­points … by going around it. When we took Devantave on 6 January 1945, we outflanked Consy on the left. Then we sent two battalions into the woods west of Consy and the enemy was squeezed out in the middle. He did not choose to hold even this com­mand­ing position at Consy at all cost. By 7 January 1945, Consy was virtually cleaned out through the woods on the right flank were not com­pletely safe for another two days.

The turning point of the entire action probably came on 7 January 1945, not where we had to fight the hardest but where progress was still relatively easy. On the left flank, after we took Odeigne on 6 January 1945, the 2nd Battalion, 333rd Infantry, was sent out the next day to cap­ture the vital cross­roads where the Laroche Road and the Houffalize Road meet. The weather was miserable. A snow­storm whipped up during the attack. Nev­er­the­less, by 0930, the cross­roads were ours. Prisoners, fro­zen, hungry, and dis­or­gan­ized, were picked up in small, wandering groups, They said they were sur­prised again. An attack in such harsh weather was completely unex­pected. Our in­ter­ro­ga­tors heard that story almost every day.

As soon as we captured the crossroads, the en­emy was deprived of the only two first-rate roads to the east, the Laroche Road and the Houf­falize Road. From then on, he must have been inhibited in his intentions, though he would never retire without a fight. Nev­er­the­less, he always had to consider that his chances of successfully pulling his forces out of the trap were getting slimmer and slimmer.

Partly because German resistance above the La­roche Road on our right flank was so much stronger than on our left, we were able to cut the road first on the extreme left of our zone at the crossroads. As we gained full control of the road, we continued to move from left to right. Next, one of our task forces came down from Amo­nines to Dochamps and from Do­champs we launched the attack on one of the enemy’s po­si­tion, Samree.

The trip from Amonines to Dochamps was the same old story. The road, though the best in the sec­tor, was so icy and narrow that the tanks were held up repeatedly. Road blocks, which took about two hours each to reduce on the average, some small arms fire but this time very little artillery, represented the en­emy’s main effort to hold us up. Mine fields and trees felled across the road by det­o­nat­ing TNT charges, anti-tank guns and tanks, were effective sources of enemy re­sist­ance. We took the high ground northwest of Do­champs on the night of 6 January 1945, and were able to move into Do­champs the next night. One in­ci­dent was symbolic. After we had spread out in the village, a German tank with sixty to eighty in­fan­try­men sud­denly pulled out from behind the church and made for Samree. Our tank destroyers could not fire a shot because their turrets were frozen, striking example of weather conditions which lessened the effectiveness of our mechanized equipment and threw the main burden of attack and defense on our infantry.

Samree was seemingly impregnable. It was perched on an 1,080-foot hill. First we had to take two other hills, northeast and northwest of it. Our troops had to move through 1,500 yards of rolling ground in knee-deep snow. The enemy had perfect observation every inch of the way. To tell the truth, it was hard to see how we could make it.

At 0630, 9 January 1945, the 3rd Battalion, 335th Infantry, went out of Dochamps to get those hills. By nightfall, it had progressed to the edge of some woods about 1,500 yards from Samree on the west side of the road and had taken one of the heav­ily wooded hills guard­ing the town. Company L was withdrawn and sent around through Dochamps to occupy the second hill on the east side of the road. That night, our ar­til­lery con­cen­trated on Samree. Next day, at 0730, the 3rd Battalion, 335th Infantry, pushed forward to cap­ture the eastern half of Sam­ree and was joined by the 1st Battalion, 335th In­fan­try, which aimed at the west­ern half. This time, tanks went in first, blazing away their guns, a sight a Doughboy loves best, thinking of all the Doughs it takes to work up that much fire­power. By 0925, the village was cleared. We were pleas­antly surprised. The enemy was determined to delay us but as long as we showed our de­ter­mi­na­tion not to be delayed, we could always take what we wanted.

The infantrymen who went into Samree had been fighting steadily for eight days, for 192 hours. They were certainly helped by the fact that the Laroche Road had been cut three days earlier. The artillery con­cen­tra­tion on Samree was ex­tremely effective. But in the end, men had to live in some more freez­ing cold and wade through some more snowdrifts, now as much as four and five feet high, to get Sam­ree for us.

The battle of Laroche is a good example of the battle of supply and the battle of stamina which every battle in the Bulge was.

The roads to Laroche were particularly bad, the hills particularly high, and the woods par­tic­u­larly dense. A few tanks and trucks turned the snow on the roads into ice and the trouble started. The Dough­boys depended more than ever on the en­gi­neer and artil­leryman.

The main attack was launched from De­vantave by the 1st Battalion, 334th Infantry. The first ob­jec­tive was Marcouray. Over a hundred guns softened up the village for five minutes. Then, at 1500, 7 January 1945, the infantry jumped off. The ground was rocky and steep. It was snowing again. Thirty minutes later, all Ger­man resistance in Marcouray was overrun. We found that the enemy positions were carefully pre­pared. Snow was a natural cam­ou­flage. For­tu­nately, we were achieving tactical surprises and much of the preparation was wasted. As prisoner after prisoner told us, the weather and terrain were so bad that our in­fan­try was simply not expected. That is one compensation for “impossible” conditions … they are apt to lead the enemy to drop his guard. The enemy’s surprise at Marcouray was shown by the equipment he was forced to leave behind. We picked up thirty-six ve­hi­cles: eight half-tracks, two command cars, six U.S. jeeps, six civilian-type cars, five six-wheeled re­con­nais­sance vehicles, five U.S. tanks, two German 1½-ton trucks.

When we took Laroche, we sealed the fate of the bulge. Yet in no sense did it mean that the fighting be­came less difficult. The terrain and weather were still the enemy’s chief allies. His forces had more and more hills and woods to withdraw to. Above all, the German com­mand was now fighting for time, time to regroup and reorganize behind the Siegfried Line, time to meet the overwhelming Russian threat.

There were some significant differences be­tween the two phases. As long as our main ob­jec­tive was Laroche, the enemy’s main effort was made on the right flank. As soon as we took the Laroche Road and Houffalize be­came our main objective, the enemy’s main effort was made on the left flank. In the second phase, the 333rd Infantry was tem­po­rar­ily attached to the 2nd Ar­mored Division. The 84th Infantry Division was given the right half of the zone, the 2nd Armored Division the left half. In this phase, we were faced by elements of the 116th Panzer Division and the 130th Panzer Lehr Di­vi­sion.

As far as the Laroche Road, the 333rd In­fan­try had advanced with relative ease. Once beyond the road, it ran into much more trouble. In Les Tailles and at the edge of the woods to the south, an es­ti­mated enemy battalion was dug in. On the other side of the Houf­falize Road, an estimated reinforced company was holding Petites Tailles. The 2nd Bat­tal­ion went out from the Laroche Road to Les Tail­les, the 1st Bat­tal­ion to Petites Tailles. The expe­ri­ences of both were sig­nif­i­cantly sim­i­lar.

To get to Les Tailles, we had to cross some more woods. The German positions were well cam­ou­flaged. The enemy’s fields of fire and bar­rages were well planned to catch us as we came out into the open. At 0800, 12 January 1945, Company F and Company G jumped off. As they came out of the woods north of Les Tailles, they were met by very heavy fire and were held up. At 1500, they began to move again. Ten minutes later, Company G and tanks were entering Les Tailles but the op­po­si­tion was so sharp that the village was not cleared until 2100. About 140 prisoners were taken.

This happened again and again … we had to fight hard for a place but when we took it we gathered in batches of prisoners. Looked at more closely, how­ever, this phe­nom­e­non may tell us a good deal about a German strat­a­gem in fighting this final phase of the war.

From Les Tailles, we had to get to Dinez. To get to Dinez, we had to go through 4,000 yards of woods. To go through these woods, we faced prob­lems which were typical of the fighting in the Ar­dennes forest.

At 0800, 13 January 1945, the 2nd Battalion, 333rd Infantry, jumped off from Les Tailles for the third time in two days. After taking Collas, a little village southwest of Les Tailles, at 1000, it struck out for the woods. Immediately, the terrain became worse than the enemy, though the latter did his best to help. The roads were terrible, barely more than trails. Under the snow, which now had ten days to ac­cu­mu­late, they were invis­i­ble. By 1200, the en­emy’s ac­tiv­ity became more stubborn. By the end of the day, we had pen­e­trated only 500 yards.

The problem of getting through the woods was faced that night. Two narrow trails ran through the woods to Dinez and two special task forces were formed to get through those trails. Both started out at 0800 the next day, 14 January 1945.

The woods, snow, cold and narrow trails made sup­ply evacuation, contact, control and com­mu­ni­ca­tion a battle of nerves. The only sup­plies came in with half-tracks. Mortar am­mu­ni­tion had to be car­ried by hand over two miles. In Odeigne, the 2nd Battalion had cap­tured an en­emy horse and sled. They held on to them and in these woods the horse and sled were their only means of evacuating the wounded. Radios would not work in the woods as it was impossible to lay wires. Visibility was so poor that it was always like night in the middle of the day. Since a small group of five or six infantrymen worked with one tank it was hard to put a company or even a pla­toon together … a trou­ble­some problem for the infantry whenever they work with armor.

Companies F and G rode light tanks part of the way but progress was too slow that way be­cause the tanks were held up so much of the time. By pushing them­selves to the limit, both task forces were able to move through the entire woods by 1600. Without stopping once the woods were cleared, Company F attached Dinez and Company E attacked Wilogne. Surprise paid off again. Both were captured before the night was over and about a hundred prisoners were taken in Di­nez. Most of our cas­u­al­ties resulted from shell fire and frostbite. We were about 4,500 yards from Houf­falize.

Meanwhile, on the right flank, in the 84th In­fan­try Division zone, the enemy was wedged in be­tween the Laroche Road and the Ourthe River. On the whole, progress was much easier but one minor crisis resulted in perhaps the most unusual expe­ri­ence of the cam­paign.

The first important objective was Berismenil. At 0730, 13 January 1945, the 1st Battalion, 334th In­fan­try, moved out from the Laroche Road to take a hill about 1,500 yards north of Beris­menil. Only sniper fire was encountered and the objective was taken by 1100. At 1415, the 1st Battalion went for­ward again to take an­other hill about 750 yards northeast of Beris­menil … one of our battalion com­mand­ers once said wistfully, “Every time I see a hill, I know it’s going to be our next ob­jec­tive.”

By 1800, the 1st Battalion had taken its second hill against light resistance. Nevertheless, the sit­u­a­tion was confused because orientation in the dark was difficult. When a patrol carrying blan­kets was fired on from the rear, it was clear that the battalion was almost entirely surrounded by the enemy. Later that night, a re­con­nais­sance patrol was sent to inves­ti­gate the enemy’s position south of the hill but failed to return. Then the battalion commander, Major Roland L. Kolb, decided to see for himself. Leading another pa­trol, he suddenly observed a German command car pull up to the base of the hill and halt. Two men stepped out and began to walk up the hill. When the pair approached near enough, the patrol jumped out of hiding.

One of their prisoners turned out to be Captain Hana­gottfried von Watzdorf, commander of the 1st Battalion, 60th Panzergrenadiers, 116th Pan­zer Di­vi­sion. Unaware that his main line of re­sist­ance had been penetrated to a depth of more than 1,000 yards, the German commander was out on a tour of inspection. In perfect English, he exclaimed, “I am astonished.” The commander of one battalion had personally cap­tured the com­mander of the enemy’s battalion opposite him and he had to keep him all night before he could de­liver him safely.

Berismenil itself was captured by the 2nd Bat­tal­ion, 335th Infantry. It covered 3,000 yards of trails, thereby achieving a considerable degree of surprise but giving up all possibility of using any vehicles to back up the attack. As a result, Berismenil was captured almost without op­po­si­tion. By the end of the day, 13 January 1945, the enemy had been cleared out of approx­i­mately half the 84th Infantry Division’s zone.

The other half was rapidly cleaned out the next day. Nadrin was occupied by the 1st Bat­tal­ion, 334th Infantry, at 1130, 14 January 1945. Only some ma­chine guns and small arms re­sist­ance was encountered. At the same time, the 3rd Battalion, 334th Infantry, attacked Filly, about a mile south­east of Nadrin. Tanks and tank de­stroy­ers could not use the roads because they were heav­ily mined and the infantry went on alone. Filly was en­tered at 1530 without any artillery preparation and fully occupied a half-hour later. The 3rd Battalion went on to take the last two objectives, Petite-Mormont and Grande-Mormont by 1915.

By this time, the Bulge was practically a mem­ory and the chief interest of every com­mander (company, bat­tal­ion, regiment, and divi­sion) was how to send out the patrol to make the first contact with the Third Army.

We made Houffalize completely untenable on 15 January 1945. At 1100, the 1st Battalion, 333rd In­fan­try, jumped off from Dinez and cap­tured the village of Mont, midway between Dinez and Houf­falize, by 1400. Tanks, infantry, and artillery worked together smoothly. At 1600, the advance was renewed to Hill 430, overlooking Houffalize. It was taken by 1730 without op­po­si­tion.

Credit for going into Houffalize went to the 2nd Armored Division. The 1st Battalion, 333rd In­fan­try, held Hill 430 until 1700, 16 January 1945, when it was relieved by a reconnaissance element of the 2nd Armored Division. By 1745, 16 January 1945, ele­ments of the 2nd Armored Division held the northern part of Houffalize, while elements of the 11th Ar­mored Division held the southern por­tion.

When was the Bulge wiped out? That may never be decided to everyone’s satisfaction be­cause a number of patrols were frantically trying to make contact with a number of other patrols at the same time. I can merely report how and when the 84th Infantry Division closed the Bulge for itself.

A thirty-three man patrol, led by Lieutenant Byron Blan­kenship, representing the 334th Infantry, left Filly at 1100, 15 January 1945. At 1145 they crossed the Ourthe in two 400-pound rubber boats, which they carried. The rest of the af­ter­noon they spent in an old mill on the other side of the Ourthe. Just before dark, Lieutenant Blan­kenship led a small patrol into the village of En­greux, about 1,000 yards from the Our­the, where he expected to meet a patrol from the Third Army. He found the village free of the enemy but he found no sign of the Third Army’s patrol.

Late that night, Lieutenant Blankenship re­ceived word that the rendezvous had been changed. Start­ing off again at midnight, the patrol moved out across some more woods and over a 1,200-yard ridge. At 0220, 16 January 1945, in the dead of night, they stopped at a small Belgian farmhouse. The whole family, papa, mama, a son and a daugh­ter of twenty-two turned itself into a reception committee. There were bread, butter, and hot coffee. The patrol decided the ren­dez­vous had been changed for a good reason.

That morning, at 0930, Private First Class Rod­ney Himes, second in command of the patrol, spied a soldier walking outside the farmhouse. Since the patrol had been ordered to stay inside the house, Private First Class Himes began to “bawl him out” and asked him what outfit he was from.

The answer was a platoon of cavalry from the 11th Armored Division, U.S. Third Army.

The junction was officially achieved at 0945, 16 January 1945, by Lieutenant Blankenship of the 334th Infantry and Lieutenant Lucas of the Cavalry. The Bulge was wiped out after thirteen days of hard, continuous fighting.

The battle of the Bulge was one of the hardest, if not the hardest, fight of the Allied armies in Europe. The weather, the terrain, and the enemy combined to make a campaign of peculiar and bitter difficulty.

M36 gun motor carriage of Battery C, 702nd Tank Destroyer Battalion, 2nd Armored Division, dug in near the Roer River, Belgium, 16 December 1944.

A dead German soldier, killed during the German counter offensive in the Belgium-Luxembourg salient, is left behind on a street corner in Stavelot, Belgium, on January 2, 1945, as fighting moves on during the Battle of the Bulge.