22nd -25th December 1944
In his excellent book ‘Snow and Steel: The Battle of the Bulge 1944-1945‘, Peter Caddick-Adams argues that Hitler’s decision to announce his Ardennes offensive was more of a political gesture to impose his will on the alliance of nations joined against him than necessarily for military reasons.
It is perhaps not so surprising that Hitler chose the area of the Ardennes forest in southeastern Belgium and through the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg to strike with what he considered should be the concentration of force necessary to deal the “one desperate blow” needed to cleave the political and military harmony that existed between the Allies. The region had proven central to not only Hitler’s triumphant defeat of France and the Low Countries in 1940 but had also been the terrain through which the Imperial German Army had successfully advanced towards its strategic objectives in August 1914 and through parts of which the Prussian Army had marched against France in 1870 during the Franco-Prussian War. The key difference between the 1944 offensive and the earlier ones just described was of course the time of year selected for the attack.
Hitler’s calculation was that, by launching what he remained convinced would be the masterstroke that would see his will prevail over his enemies; it would divide them and cause the Allies to sue for peace. This would allow him then to pivot and concentrate on defeating the Soviets on the Eastern Front. The operational objective would be the recapture of the port of Antwerp so vital to the prosecution of the Allies’ war effort although quite what was next expected of his armies once they got there was never clear.
His calculation too was that, once launched, the Allies would be slow to respond such was the nature of the command structure and hierarchy that existed within the Coalition. Further, he had a poor estimation of the tactical ability of the thinly spread U.S. forces to make a stand. Most importantly, Hitler calculated that the adverse weather conditions at that time of year would negate the strategic advantage the Allies had over the German army – domination of the skies.
The plan called for a quick breakthrough in order to take the Allies by surprise exploiting not only the characteristics of the terrain that the Germans had used to their advantage in 1940 but also the speed of the operation. Time was of the essence to ensure momentum, aggression and surprise and so the target date for launching the offensive was entirely dependent upon inclement weather being forecast in order to provide the necessary cover for the German offensive.
According to the author, Hugh M. Cole, Hitler also chose the Ardennes because the unique configuration of the area was such that the ground for maneuver was limited which meant that relatively few divisions would be required to achieve success. Importantly too, the heavily forested area to the east would conceal preparations during the build up to the attack. Peter Caddick-Adams offers another factor for selecting the Ardennes region that he suggests is often overlooked. This was Hitler’s arboreal obsession inspired in large part by his love of Wagner as well as his preoccupation with the significance of trees and woods – seen as magical places – in Teutonic legends and mythology.
It is Hitler’s misappraisal of the willingness of the U.S. G.I., some new and untried, others exhausted and battle-worn, to stand and fight that intrigues me. In the end, his complete misunderstanding of the American psyche and the DNA of the latest generation of this citizen army that had not only survived the Great Depression but had emerged with the ability to improvise and adapt to their circumstances no matter how harsh they were, that condemned the offensive before it had even begun.
The purpose of my research over the years into what happened in the Ardennes in December 1944/45 has been to breathe life into the stories of the men and women, the civilians, the medics, the engineers, the logisticians, the cooks, the clerks as well as the front line soldiers and airmen. These are the people who stood their ground and threw grit into the machinery of warfare and contributed to it grinding to a halt.
By extensively walking the ground, forensically looking at it from every perspective and by peeling back the layers of the proverbial onion, I consider myself fortunate to have developed a deep understanding of the daily sequence of the battle. This has enabled me to get a better sense of both its rhythm as well as the anatomy of this labyrinthine feat of arms.
One can of course become consumed by the study of individual events. However, by stepping back and looking holistically at the choreography of this confusing, writhing mess, it is possible to see how the cause and the effect of a number of unsung small actions being performed, sometimes concurrently and usually without any sense of the consequences of those actions, had a non-linear impact on the eventual outcome of events.
As my Father told me once in one of his typically Delphic pronouncements, “the higher the eagle flies above the desert, the easier it is for it to see which way the sands are shifting”. So, by indulging in the so-called bird’s eye view, it has become possible to see how seemingly unconnected events at the micro level contributed to history being made in the Ardennes in 1944/45.
These events, by themselves make for interesting stories. But, when aggregated, one can see how they have become very much part of the legend of this bitterly contested campaign, each vignette in effect being a beat of the chaos-inducing butterfly’s wing.
As to the veracity of each, some stories have proven harder to authenticate fully particularly now that almost all witnesses-to-the-fact have passed on and only those that were there really know. Indeed, often the deeper I have gnawed away at some stories trying to distinguish fact against fiction, the more clouded I have found the narrative to become.
But, most importantly, I would call on the reader to consider why the stories of these heroes continue to enthrall and inspire us. Their stories, particularly if they have proven to be unlikely champions that may have overcome adversity or found redemption or, more simply, unexpectedly risen to the occasion when required to do so raises an interesting question about the human condition. Regardless of whether it is fact or fiction, myth or legend, when furnished with the details, I defy you not to stand on the ground where history was made and ask yourselves how you would have behaved if found in similar circumstances.
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On one of our many forays into the region, my wife and I were walking through the small Belgian village of Leignon that lies about ten miles east of Dinant, a prosperous medieval town that, for centuries, had served as a citadel overseeing the plying of trade along the River Meuse. It was on the bridge across the river at Dinant that a young Lieutenant and future President of France, Charles de Gaulle was wounded on 15th August 1914 defending the vital crossing point.
The present ruins of Château Poilvache just to the north of Dinant date from the 15th Century, although there has been a fortification on the site since the time of Charlemagne. From the top of the imposing rocks upon which these ruins sit, it is possible to look down at the islet in the River Meuse below where the 7th Motorcycle Battalion of Erwin Rommel’s 7th Panzer Division had crossed the river on the night of 12th/13th May 1940.
Advancing through the Ardennes alongside the 5th Panzer Division, Rommel’s force overcame desperate Belgian and French resistance and crossed the Meuse at Houx via a footbridge across the weir securing an important bridgehead on the western bank. Intriguingly, the same crossing point had been used by the advancing Imperial German Army in 1914. In December 1944, seizure of these same key crossing points of the river was the objective for the 2nd Panzer Division.
The 2nd Panzer of course never made it to Dinant, reaching only as far as Celles, just five miles short of their objective. Today, the wreck of a Panther tank sits at the unassuming crossroads next to a roadside bar marking the point furthest west achieved by the attacking forces during the offensive. It was on this spot on Sunday, 24th December 1944 that local resident, Marthe Monrique was questioned about the state of the road ahead to Dinant. She lied, confidently telling her interrogators that the road and the area surrounding it was heavily mined. As the commander hesitated about what to do next and unable to proceed in force, the momentum drained. Two days later, the Allied counterattack began and Hitler’s final gamble in the west floundered.
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Passing the Château de Leignon, confusingly nicknamed the ‘Castle of a Thousand Windows’ even though there are only three hundred and eighty-five of them, we walked into the village and stopped to look at the church there. On a wall beside some steps leading up to the Église de l’Assomption de Notre Dame was fixed a small brass plaque that read simply:
“551st Parachute Infantry Battalion (One Man Army). Here on December 23rd, 1944, PFC Milo Huempfner against incredible odds, for two days, waged single-handed warfare against German forces including a large armored column spearheaded by fourteen Panther tanks.
As the only American soldier present and resisting at the western tip of the German bulge, he was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross by order of the President of the United States for the period of December 23-25, 1944”
Discovery of such unexpected nuggets is pure cat-nip!!! And so, upon my return home, the digging began. In my view, judging by what emerged from the research, the citation for Milo Huempfner’s award doesn’t do his bravery and heroism justice. Nor does it fully describe the scene nor the carnage he inflicted on the German force temporarily occupying the village. I hope the following small homage sheds more light on this remarkable story.
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On Friday, 22nd December 1944, at 16.00hrs, around the same time that twenty-nine year old SS-Obersturmbannführer Joachim Peiper’s charge along the northern shoulder of the Bulge is petering out in the small village of La Gleize and phosphorus rounds are crashing into the village’s church steeple, setting the building on fire, twenty-six year old Private First Class Milo C. Huempfner enters stage left.
Meanwhile, sixty miles to the north-east at Dom Bütgenbach, the gallant defense by the U.S. 1st Infantry Division, the “Big Red One”, which has already lasted four days, comes to a close. This is more-or-less the same moment that the King Tiger, No. 213, which today sits outside the museum in La Gleize, had its muzzle dissected by a lucky strike from a Sherman tank attacking the village.
By the end of the fighting at Dom Bütgenbach, the battlefield is strewn with destroyed German armor and scores of German dead. The U.S. graves registration units count 782 German dead in front of the U.S. 26th Infantry Regiment’s positions. The U.S. forces have also destroyed forty-seven tanks and propelled guns. The effect of this defense is the blocking of the German approach routes to the River Meuse that force a large backup of infantry and equipment on the two remaining routes being used. It also marks the end of the fighting on the northern shoulder that has effectively blunted Sixth Panzer Armee’s main effort that, with the exception of the rapier thin thrust by Peiper, has achieved little to no progress at all.
Almost around the same time too that Milo Huempfner enters the scene, way to the south-east, General der Panzertruppe Heinrich Freiherr von Lüttwitz is reading, and trying to make sense of Brigadier-General Anthony McAuliffe’s famous response of “NUTS!” to von Luttwitz’s ultimatum to McAuliffe to surrender Bastogne.
On this day, first light was at 08.41hrs and last light would be at 16.40hrs. Across the battlefield, the weather conditions are overcast from 300–500ft with light intermittent rain and snow. Visibility is around 500–1,000yds to less than 100yds where there is precipitation. Apart from a few sorties likely for observational purposes, Allied aircraft remain grounded.
Shortly before last light, PFC Milo Huempfner of the 551st Parachute Infantry Battalion then assigned to the U.S. 30th Infantry “Old Hickory” Division, arrives on the outskirts of Leignon. He has driven from Werbomont where the battalion had been stationed before being deployed to bolster the deepening U.S. defensive lines. Milo and a colleague are driving a truckload of ammunition in a convoy when he slides off the road and drives the truck into a ditch.
The convoy continues with his load but Milo is ordered to remain behind alone until a recovery vehicle can come to recover him and his truck. He is given instructions to destroy the truck if any Germans arrived.
Hungry, Milo walks into the village as the evening shadows begin to lengthen. He heads for the railway station and waits as instructed. Beyond the locals he initially encounters with whom he cannot hardly communicate, he has no contact with the outside world and is beginning to wonder how long he will have to stay and when he’s next going to get something to eat.
Having slept the night in the loft of the railway station, around 11.00hrs the next morning, Milo is still awaiting his recovery. The town is quiet but the orchestra of war can be heard rehearsing in the distance. Milo ventures out of the railway station and is sitting on the steps of the church when an American jeep with three Military Policemen in it drives north through the village. It stops and, as Milo later relates, one of the MPs with a conspicuously “cultivated English accent”, asks if there are more U.S. troops in the village. When he replies in the negative, the jeep continues northwards towards the town of Ciney. There’s no one else to corroborate this story but Milo swears later that he believes these to be ‘Greif’ Kommandos – Germans disguised as Americans in American uniforms – reconnoitering the ground ahead of the 2nd Panzer Division as it approaches.
Meanwhile, far away in Bastogne, an unrelated butterfly is flapping its wings. Here, the Belgian nurse who features in episode 6 – “Bastogne” – of the “Band of Brothers” series, Renée Lemaire is earning the reputation amongst the injured of being the ‘Angel of Bastogne’ as she circulates amongst those patients recovering, distributing what little medications that are available.
Perhaps the true hero of this small vignette is her fellow carer, Augusta Chiwy a Congolese nurse trapped in the town simply because she’d chosen to visit her father and her brother for Christmas. Both women have volunteered but, unlike Renée, Augusta continues her work largely unnoticed. Her presence is barely acknowledged in the “Band of Brothers” series and it is not really until 2015 that her true story surfaces as told in Martin King’s excellent ‘Forgotten Angel of Bastogne‘.
The medical situation is proving dire as supplies are running out with little hope for candidates awaiting surgery. The earlier loss of the morphine stockpile on the 19th December is proving to have fatal consequences.
Even those with superficial wounds are beginning to suffer from invasive streptococcal infections as bacteria begin to enter their bodies. Despite this, for three days, while Renée tends to shrink from the fresh trauma, Augusta has nevertheless “cheerfully accepted the Herculean task and worked without rest or food changing dressings, feeding patients unable to feed themselves, giving out medications, bathing and making the patients more comfortable and was of great assistance in the administration of plasma and other professional duties”.
The head of the casualty aid station where both women are working, Dr. Jack Prior later writes that Renée’s “very presence among those wounded men seemed to have been an inspiration to those whose morale had declined from prolonged suffering “.
So while Renée best serves as the “comforter”, Dr. Prior finds that Augusta is the best he has at treating the gravest of injuries, handling amputees, performing amputations often with nothing but cognac or sulpha powder but no anesthetic to dull the pain, treating severe bleeding, dealing with large thoracic wounds, and other horrific injuries.
On one occasion in afternoon of the 23rd December, she later recalls assisting Dr. Prior to release an intracranial haemorrhage with a corkscrew. She also later recalls that the “wounded just kept arriving and their number was growing by the hour. The worst problem was supplies.” Perhaps reflecting America’s racial tensions and attitudes common to that period, some wounded soldiers refuse to be touched by a black nurse to which Dr. Prior replies simply “Fine. Then you will die”.
Around the time that Milo Huempfner is encountering his possible Greif Kommandos, Dr. Prior and Augusta Chiwy again head out to collect wounded, this time from the southeastern outskirts of Bastogne. On the way back, dentist Lee Naftulin is driving the M3 half-track with casualties, including Germans, loaded into the back.
After about a mile, they are targeted by accurate mortar fire and forced to stop only to then be taken prisoner by members of the Panzer Lehr Division probing their way around Bastogne. While Dr. Prior tries to negotiate their release, the officer looks at Augusta and accuses her of being a “witch doctor”, insinuating that the U.S. army must be desperate for nurses. In the meantime, Lee Naftulin has climbed into the cupola of the half-track and is able to man the .50 caliber machine gun which he points at the group below. They are released and make their way back to Bastogne amused by the episode that had seen a black nurse and a Jewish dentist best a Nazi.
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On this day, Patton’s “Prayer” for good weather is finally answered in the afternoon with visibility improving to two to four miles. After a week of low cloud cover, a high-pressure system known as a “Russian High” brings clear skies and subfreezing temperatures. Historian, Alan Moorhead later describes it as a “radiant world where everything was reduced to primary whites and blues: a strident, sparkling white amongst frosted trees, the deep blue shadows in the valley, and then the flawless ice blue of the sky”. The clear skies enable Allied high-altitude bombers, fighter-bombers, and transport aircraft to take to the skies. This makes it possible for the Americans to begin the first of 241 flights by C-47s that would ultimately deliver over 850 tons of supplies to the troops hunkered down inside the Bastogne perimeter with the loss of nineteen C-47s. In total on this day, more than 3,000 Allied aircraft fly missions in German combat and rear areas, also resupplying Bastogne.
Later in the afternoon, still sat in Leignon, Milo Huempfner hears a “terrible noise” coming up the street. Taking cover and from his concealed position, he is able to see the forward elements of Hauptmann von Böhm’s entire Kampfgruppe, comprising 2 Panzer Aufklärungsabteilung (including an armored car company and one company of I. Abteilung/3. Panzer Regiment with fourteen Panther G tanks), driving into the village. As instructed, Milo makes his way to his truck and immediately sets about destroying it by pouring gasoline all over and setting it on fire.
Despite the obvious smoke now billowing from the wrecked vehicle, he returns to the village and is helped to hide in the railway station by the stationmaster, Victor DeVille while Kampgruppe von Böhm stops and the troops bivouac there for the night.
As night falls, the young private from Green Bay, Wisconsin somehow reaches the conclusion alone that he must act. What must be going on inside his head as he runs through his options can only be speculated at because Milo never really talks afterwards about what motivated him. He could remain in the loft of the railway station as the Germans seem little interested in staying in Leignon beyond the night. But, as darkness falls, with little care for himself or the possibility of reprisals against the villagers, the truck driver decides alone to wage a one-man war against the town’s occupiers armed initially with only an M1 rifle, a .45 Colt revolver and two hand grenades.
Over the course of the next thirty-six hours, hiding in plain sight, he destroys armored vehicles and trucks as well as machine gun positions and engages in hand-to-hand fighting with enemy troops collecting more weapons as he progresses.
As dawn breaks on Christmas Eve, 1944 Milo Huempfner continues his lonely defense of the village pursuing his guerrilla war against the enemy troops while at the same time protecting the townspeople.
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Meanwhile, in Bastogne, around 20.00hrs that night, the Luftwaffe bomb the town for a second time. Dr. Jack Prior is standing outside the building adjacent to the warehouse being used as the aid station when the bombing begins.
He has left the aid station in order to go and get a pen and some paper in order to write a letter to the wife of a young lieutenant who is dying of a chest wound. Just before heading next door, a young officer from the 10th Armored Division has appeared at the door of the aid station and suggested to Dr. Prior they celebrate the Yuletide. He has found a bottle of champagne and is looking for someone with whom to share it. Augusta Chiwy is with Dr. Prior in the room so he invites her to join them. They look around for Renée Lemaire and the dentist, Lee Naftulin to invite them as well but don’t see them.
As they stand there each with a chipped tin mug of champagne incongruously in their hands, the first bombs fall. The Luftwaffe are dropping magnesium illumination flares on the town as well as their bombs which explains why Dr. Prior later says he sees the bright light of one flare just before a bomb hits the warehouse. He recalls later hitting the floor as “a terrible explosion next door rocked the building”.
Moments before, Renée has evidently run into the street calling for help as the magnesium flares had already started a fire inside the aid station. Lee Naftulin exits the aid station too in an effort to try to entice her back inside and take cover as the planes drone overhead.
Naftulin returns to fill a bucket with snow to try to douse the flames inside and Renée then reappears at the door. This prompts Naftulin to shove her back inside, landing on one of the patients who cries out.
Why the building is selected for targeting is unclear. In all likelihood, the concentration of vehicles outside the warehouse bringing in the wounded might have attracted the attention of the pilot.
Following the explosion caused by the 500lb bomb, Augusta recalls the chaos and the confusion around her because of the dust. She has been blasted through the wall of the kitchen in which she has been standing. Removing the pile of rubble that lay on top of her, Dr. Prior helps her to her feet and, together they head for the aid station that had been reduced to rubble and barely recognizable. Together, they start to help the injured.
Dr. Prior later recalls that he ran outside to discover that the warehouse “was a flaming pile of debris about six feet high. Despite the heavy fog, the night was brighter than day from the flares the German bomber pilot had dropped. My men and I raced to the top of the debris and began flinging burning timber aside, looking for the wounded, some of whom were shrieking for help. At this point, the German bomber, seeing the action, dropped down to strafe us with his machine guns. We slid under some vehicles, and he repeated this maneuver several times before leaving the area. Our team headquarters about a block away also received a direct hit and was soon in flames. A large number of men joined us and we located a cellar window. Some men volunteered to be lowered into the smoking cellar on a rope and two or three injured were pulled out before the entire building fell into the cellar”.
Dr. Prior later estimates that more than thirty, including Renée are killed in the warehouse because of the bombing. She had been in the kitchen at the back as the attack began, and it is likely that she had run to the cellar to take cover or, as told by Lee Naftulin, had been pushed inside just before the bomb struck the building. It is a sad irony that had she remained in the kitchen, she may have survived as all those that stayed there were blown through the one wall that was made of glass.
According to Augusta, they eventually find Renée, her body in two pieces and, together, they wrap her remains in a parachute that Renée herself had recovered that morning and had set aside saying that she wanting to safe-keep the material for her wedding dress.
There is some divergence of the story here as Dr. Prior maintains that Renée was still alive and had only perished after succumbing to her injuries in the cellar whilst trying to save some of the wounded casualties. Popular myth has it that she managed to evacuate six soldiers from the burning building but died while attempting to save a seventh. Others, notably Augusta maintain that she was killed instantly, and only the upper half of her body was found in the ruins of the building. Regardless of this discrepancy, alone, Dr. Prior returns Renée’s body to her parent’s house later that evening. Wounded by the blast, Lee Naftulin makes his way to the nearby Heintz Barracks to get some treatment perhaps feeling an extreme guilt for having been the one that pushed Renée back inside the building.
In the “Band of Brothers” series, the aid station is inaccurately portrayed as being in the seminary on the eastern edge of town whereas it was on a road just west of the main town square. Today, the site has been rebuilt and presently serves as a Vietnamese restaurant, Cite Wok. A small plaque commemorating the events of Christmas Eve 1944 has been placed on the wall outside.
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Back in Leignon, almost precisely as the bombs are falling on Bastogne, the villagers come to Milo Huempfner and ask him if he will protect them whilst they attend Midnight Mass. He cannot understand why they want to go to church but they remind him it is Christmas Eve. Incredibly, no one in the village has revealed Milo’s whereabouts to the no doubt enraged Germans. Incredibly too, there are no records of any reprisals against the townsfolk during this sustained period of guerilla warfare.
So, while the villagers attend a candlelit mass, Milo Huempfner stands in the freezing cold outside the church guarding the entrance from any intruders. The snow is swirling around him in flurries and he stamps his feet trying to keep warm wondering how long he has to continue to play “Lochinvar”, Walter Scott’s fictional brave knight, to the strangers in this town who have provided him shelter and food at great risk to themselves. He is armed with just a pistol and a hand grenade. During the service, a German half-track drives up the high street and Milo destroys it by throwing the grenade into the back of the vehicle, killing its occupants. Inside the church, the service is nevertheless concluded despite the battle raging in the street outside.
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By Christmas morning, the German offensive has, to all intents and purposes, ground to a halt from lack of fuel, ammunition, and supplies, while everywhere U.S. counterattacks are making progress. Good flying weather persists.
Inside Leignon, Milo Huempfner learns of plans for U.S. forces to retake the village and so he sneaks out to inform the attacking force of the German dispositions within. He is nearly shot by his own side as he tries to get through the lines but, having delivered his intelligence, he chooses to head back into the village to warn the townsfolk of the immanency of the forthcoming American attack. On his way back in, he notices a concealed position that he’d previously not seen, an artillery piece concealed in a barn. Realizing that this presents a threat, he chooses single-handedly to attack the position, neutralizing the gun in the process and capturing eighteen defenders which he detains until the village is finally captured later on Christmas Day.
When Milo is finally reunited with his countrymen, no one can believe what he has done until the villagers corroborate his stories. For these deeds, Milo Huempfner is awarded the Distinguished Service Cross. Inscribed on the back of the medal is the simple phrase “A one man army”.
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