My Recollections of the Battle of Phillipsbourg
by L. D. Docken

The Germans mounted an offensive called "Nordwind" in the first part of January to relieve pressure on the Battle of the Bulge, just to the Northwest. Their strategy was to cut across Alsace in Northeastern France and sever our lines behind Strasbourg. The regiments of the 70th division were rushed up from Marseilles, ahead of the division artillery which was still on its way from the states. The three regiments, 274th, 275th, and 276th were called Task Force Herren. When the Third Army moved north to relieve Bastogne, the lines to the south and east became very thin. Our regiments were sent in to plug the gap and drive back the German offensive.

We moved into Phillipsbourg one day in the early days of January. It was a small, picturesque village situated in the middle of the Vosges Mts. The town was nestled in a valley between two high ridges. There was only one road through the town, but on the west side there was a juncture of two roads, one coming from the west and the other came from the northwest. It was a strategic town which the Germans needed to bust through to the main road south of Strasbourg.

The village of Phillipsbourg in a photo taken in 1995. Notice the ridges overlooking the village.

Co. "A" & Co. "B" took up positions outside of town in the hills flanking the village. Our company "C" was assigned to secure the town itself. Our squad of the lst Platoon was moved out on the edge of town to guard the main road coming from the west. As BAR man I was put in the point position along the shoulder of the road, covering it with a line of fire. As my ammunition carrier and I dug our fox hole everything seemed quiet, but we began to get anxious when we saw people fleeing down the road with all their possessions stacked high on horse-drawn wagons and hand-pulled carts. We saw fear in their eyes, but they were in a hurry and did not stop to talk. That night our "baptism of fire" began as the German 88's began creeping up the road toward us. In the distance we could hear the faint discharge of the shells and then a couple seconds later the descending whine and the terrible explosions around us. Fear gripped us as the 88's came nearer and finally were right on top of us. It is a very helpless feeling not knowing whether the next shell would have your "number". Shells landed all around us, but since we had dug good fox holes only practically a direct hit could harm us.

The main purpose of the artillery, if the enemy troops are well dug in, is to demoralize. Many times during the night we could hear cries of fear and terror, but the men held fast. The closest hit to me was just a few feet away, deafening our ears and sending sand and dirt flying into the foxhole, but my buddy and I were unhurt. My Christian faith strengthened me and calmed me at the time because I knew that if I was killed my Lord would take me home and give me eternal life. Many prayers were uttered that night. In the morning some of the equipment we had left on the edge of the fox hole was completely blown away by the close shelling. Certain veterans said that it was some the worst shelling they had ever experienced.

That morning (3 Jan, 1945) the Germans attacked the town from the rear. They had broken through the lines on the flanks and had infiltrated behind us. The sergeant of our platoon (Purvis) came running up to our foxhole and told us we were needed in the back of the town to repel the Germans. We set up a position in a house looking across the valley to the southeast and began firing on the enemy who were running from house to house. We used some tracer bullets in the firing in order to set the houses on fire and remove their cover.

Suddenly we discovered that the Germans were also attacking down the west road which we had just left. My chances of survival would have been pretty slim especially sitting there in the lead foxhole. On the other hand we might have blunted the attack and prevented any further advances.

To counter this new turn of events we quickly set up a line of defense in the middle of the town in the houses. By this time the town was completely surrounded. On the left ridge high above the town German snipers had a clear field, firing on anything that moved. On the right ridge which was right next to the village the Germans were seeking to move into the town. The main street became a vicious alley of flying lead and shells, as the Jerries tried to come up the street from the west. Several things stopped them from my point of view.

For one thing, a 50 cal. machine gun was set up in the middle of the main street by several of our brave soldiers and officers. They would run out and fire the 50 cal. gun down toward the Germans, right in the middle of the hail of fire. Secondly, one of the squads of our company occupied a house that had a line of fire up the right side of the village on the slope. A group of Germans tried to advance along this slope to outflank our defense. The BAR man saw them and let go a stream of fire which cut down several of the Germans and completely scattered the whole bunch. Thirdly, the weapons company, Co. "D", got an observer up in the tower of the church on the main street and directed mortar fire on the enemy positions until he was forced down by heavy fire. However, the mortars had their correct readings and poured in the rounds. The distance was so short that the mortars were firing at practically 90 degrees. Fourthly, a part of Co. "C" was dispatched up on top of the right ridge and were able to pick off any infiltrating enemy soldiers. I talked to one of the squad members on this ridge who personally accounted for several of the enemy.

It has been said before and demonstrated before, but I can say from personal experience, that the outcome of a battle depends so many times, on the heroic efforts of a few men placed at strategic places. The Battle of Phillipsbourg corroborates this observation. If it hadn't been for the efforts of some of these men, we may not have held the town until reinforcements came.

The tide of the battle was definitely turned around with the arrival of reinforcements in terms of troops and tanks. Troops moved in on both flanks and pushed the Germans back. However, there were heavy casualties and we were saddened by the number killed or wounded by artillery and rifle fire.

The effectiveness of the German anti-tank gun was demonstrated before my eyes in Phillipsbourg. Our tanks were going to roll right down main street and rout the enemy. However, a few anti-tank shells put a stop to that.

At left, the main road into Phillipsbourg, also known as the "88 curve". Photo by Jack Barton, © 1995.

The first tank took a shell right in the front, and it went through the armor clean as a whistle. It was terrible to hear the explosions inside the tank and hear the cries of the tankmen as they scrambled out of the hatch. A second tank tried the same thing and met the same fate before they finally realized that they were no match for the German anti-tank gun. Finally, the tanks were parked under cover until the infantrymen could overcome the German position. During the battle our squad was asked to take up better positions to improve our line of fire. We climbed out of the windows of the house on the south side and jumped to the ground.
 

At left, location of tank knocked out in text above. Photo by Jack Barton, © 1995.

The German snipers on the left ridge saw us right away and opened up with rifle fire and directed mortar shelling upon us. A mortar shell landed right in front of me, but miraculously nothing hit me and all I felt was a stinging in the face and a temporary deafness in my ears. In the jump from the window the stock of my BAR was broken, but I picked up another in the next position and had it working within a few minutes.

While we were manning the lines in the houses, we were trying to figure out different ways we could get back at the Germans. From the west window we had a clear view of a pillbox quite a distance away. We had a bazooka with us and we thought its shell could penetrate the pillbox. The range was too far for this gun, but we thought it was worth a try anyway. After shooting a couple of bazooka shells out the window with little success, we suddenly had to duck for cover because the German 88's zeroed in on us. However, the houses there were strongly built and little damage was done to us.

The Battle of Phillipsbourg ended as we moved down through the town and reoccupied all of it. After things quieted down, I guess the higher ups felt we were in a precarious position. At any rate, the orders were to pull out, and we took up new positions in the hills.

We found out later that Co. "B" had been surrounded outside of Phillipsbourg at the beginning of the battle and many of the men ended up in prison camps in Germany. Co. "A" was able to break out and move dangerously through enemy lines avoiding artillery shelling by staying to the lee of the hills, finally getting back to our lines after many days.

In closing, let me quote from a letter to my parents written on Jan.16, 1945. It is a young man's immediate reaction to the evil of war. "Things have been pretty hot for us the last two weeks and I haven't been able to get a letter off. My mind is absolutely stripped of any traces of reason for war as if there was any there in the first place. Maybe the overall picture justifies what goes on up here, but from an infantry man's point of view, it is hard to see. A lot of friends are not here any more which is a terrible reminder of the evil of war. It makes more solemn the fact that they should not die in vain. Every once in a while I have to stop and justify what goes on here, by thinking of the great cause we are fighting for."