After a half-track ride from Niederbronn to the outskirts of Philippsbourg, the drivers refused to go any farther and we walked the rest of the way. My 3rd squad was assigned to existing dugouts and foxholes on the crest of a hill at the south end.

At the beginning of the day - Jan. 2, 1945 - we were all spread out. I and Dave Vigoren had a huge figure 8 dugout all to ourselves. A sniper sent a couple of rounds our way - we couldn't mistake the "zing". I even walked back to town to get some news. That is when I looked over a Kraut truck that had been captured by Lt. Nelson. It was loaded with all types of snow and ski equipment.

During the late afternoon of the 2nd, our position began to consolidate and we had quite a number of men in our dugout on the hillside. As I said before, this was a pretty good sized dugout the Germans had dug for us. In the shape of a kidney, it could accommodate at least a dozen men. Bob McDaniel was there, George Kwant, Sid Roberts with his BAR, James Jensen, Walter Killian, Ralph Crawford, DaveVigoren and I. I don't remember who else was in that hole.

Three quarters or more of the top of our hole was covered with large logs with a good thickness of earth over that. The front portion of the dugout was covered by a crude roof of logs and earth. The rest of the hole was open. There were four or five maximum firing positions and we took turns for a while at these positions and then exchanged places with others who were under the logs.

Jan. 3: Early in the morning, it was still dark, we got the word to move out. Carrying a bunch of clanging canteens, I went down the hill to a nearby stream to fill them up. Others up in the hole were flapping out blankets, making up packs and generally being noisy. I remember everyone's mood was up because we were glad to get out of there.

Then, in the ground fog and darkness, a shot rang out. I broke the sprint record in running up that hill and into the hole and I can't recall whether I filled the canteens or not! I was one of the last to get into the hole so I ended up with one of the "choice" positions on the firing line. As we peered through the fog we began to hear voices and noises below us.

We assumed that we were all either in the bunker or under cover in some of the holes close by. After a quick vote, James Jensen, on my left, let go with a hand grenade in the direction of the voices below us. Another grenade followed and the voices stopped. The fog was just thin enough so we could notice Kraut soldiers coming from the back of a farmhouse ahead of us and lining up along the low stone wall by the road. The small-arms fire now began in earnest. Jensen on my left, I and Sid Roberts on my right, and someone unknown to me on Robert's right.

After turning around to pick up another full magazine which was on the edge of the hole directly in back of him, Roberts slumped over. We didn't know where he was hit until we started to move him under cover of the logs. One of us felt a wet sticky spot between his shoulder blades.

A new crew took up our positions but I think Jensen continued using Sid's BAR. We didn't have a hell of a lot of ammunition to begin with and we were getting low.

S/Sgt. McDaniels suggested rushing down the hill with bayonets and we all talked him out of that. I have no idea how far into the morning this occurred but eventually a couple of tanks came down the road from our left. After the tanks opened up on the stone wall with machine guns and started leveling their big gun, most of the Krauts behind the wall got up and surrendered. But some of them snuck back behind the farmhouse the same way they came in.

And so our baptism of fire was done.

The tanks trundled down the road with the prisoners and with some of our troops as escorts. There was a brief lull like there is before a storm and the storm did come - Kraut artillery!

Fortunately the Germans built some dam good bunkers, including the one we were in. We had straw on the floor and together with Sid's body, the rest of us lay like spoons in the semi-darkness with our thoughts and prayers while the crashing vibrations went on around us. Nothing to do but stay in place and hope the logs and earth above would hold up. We lost any communications we had, the shelling severed all wires; we had no significant amount of ammo left. There wasn't anything or anybody crawling around out there to shoot at anyway.

It seems like the barrage lasted all afternoon. It really seemed like an eternity. When it was over in the early evening, the farm house across the road was burning. Somewhere in the same vicinity cows were practically screaming and burning trucks on the road were exploding. We finally got the word to move out and we proceeded on the road to town, took a right, passed the company CP and fell in behind the rest of C heading for Angelsberg. This was now late in the evening of Jan. 5 after P-bourg was cleared.

I happened to be the last man in the column. Just as the end of the column was at the edge of town, some shots were heard where the forward troops were entering the woods. We found out later that some GI was edgy (who wouldn't be after Philippsbourg) and it was a false alarm.

However the column stopped when the shots were heard and I took advantage of the hold-up by sitting down in a ditch and easing my pack straps. It was a comfortable position in the snow bank, somewhat like in a recliner. I felt warm and tingly and I went into a deep sleep. The next thing I knew was someone kicking me awake. Fortunately, a straggler recognized this dark lump in the snow as a possible living body and booted me up. Together we had some running to do to catch up with the column. Thank you, whoever you were.

We, Co. C, remained at Angelsberg from January 6 until afternoon of Jan. 10. Our Angelsberg objective was Hill 471. We arrived at Hill 364, west of Philippsbourg and Niederbronn and south of Baerenthal, late in the afternoon of January 12.

It was a blur of snow, digging slit trenches and coming up with rocks and roots. Wounded men crying out in the darkness, other wounded being carried down the hill in blankets made into litters. Although the 275th Medical History indicates we had Medics, we did not!

I was very sick with a head and chest cold; I was one miserable dog face. When we came off the hill I reported to the Battalion Aid Station and my temperature was high enough for me to be admitted overnight. I slept all afternoon and all night with sulfa pills and water breaks every few hours.

The next day I felt great - a little shaky but with a clear head - and hopped a jeep back to Co. C and on to the Maginot Line pillboxes.

Company C was withdrawn from the action by order of Gen. Herren, on Jan. 20. My own story is almost ended. The only opposition I encountered in Alstingen was from a ferocious German shepherd dog that prevented me from clearing a barn. I had to expend a couple of rounds there and that was about it. Lou Fletcher and I and many of the platoon were convinced that we would stay and "occupy" the town at least for a couple of days. But that was not in the plan. We moved out in the early afternoon toward and into the forest. Hank Gieselman was in the squad then.

About mid-afternoon I had my squad cover me while I went forward to check out a large mound of earth. It was an incomplete bunker the Germans never finished. I turned to face the squad and dropped to the dirt as an 88 came whizzing in. A second one came in shortly after but so far everything was OK. There was a long pause. That was the end, I thought. I stood up.