Around noon, December 31, 1944, I was provided with a jeep mounted with a 50-caliber machine gun, a T-5 gunner and a driver and I have never known two finer or more loyal men. Our mission was to reconnoiter positions in preparation for Co. I, 275 to relieve Co. C of the 14th Mechanized Cavalry, 60 to 70 miles from Philippsbourg.

The road was mountainous, snow-covered of course, rough and unusually crooked. We arrived at the Charlie C.P., which occupied a very large, two-Story stone house with an enormous basement, about 10:30 on New Year's Eve. As I was entering the C.P., my driver and T-5 gunner took leave "to take care of the jeep" and said they would return in 30 to 40 minutes.

The C company commander, who was alone in the C.P. and quite well advanced into his New Year's Eve celebration, greeted me cordially and immediately poured me a slug of Old Crow, which was most welcome to one who was already afflicted with the never-relenting Philippsbourg area ailment of being continuously half-frozen-to-death. Under the circumstances, one drink was sufficient for me, but the C.O. continued on his joyous way. My two soldiers returned at this time and I poured them a drink from the captain's bottle.

At exactly midnight, a noisy fire-fight broke out in the company forward areas. A platoon leader from a forward unit phoned the captain, "The enemy, in all-white uniforms, is advancing on our positions under heavy small arms and machine gun fire!" The captain's reply, "Blow them to hell!" With that outburst he replaced the phone, quoted the conversation to me, picked up his bottle and, without so much as a"Happy New Year!", staggered down the steps into the basement.

I took over the captain's job and we three 275th soldiers struck a trot for the forward areas only to be met almost immediately by a mass of American soldiers in full retreat. We immediately saw the hopelessness of the present situation and turned back toward the stone house C.P. The whole countryside was aflame and it was almost like daylight from the burning barns, small houses, fences, etc. set by the enemy. We began receiving our first experience under "screemin' meemie" and "burp gun" fire.

The enemy had begun to entrench itself in the abandoned foxholes of the Charlie Company forward platoons to enjoy good cover for their continued assault.

We returned to the C.P., which was almost filled with the retreating soldiers. (Many more of them had run on by.) Both floors of the house possessed many large windows which were occupied by men firing out in the direction of the bonfires which were silhouetting the enemy soldiers. My two men had their own M- 1s; I had a Colt .45 and a puny little carbine which I set aside to borrow an M-1 from a recently wounded soldier. (There were many more available from the same source.) There was a great supply of ammunition and grenades in the basement and we organized a carrying party to keep us supplied. The grenades were very effective, excellent for us to chunk from the large windows and drop back immediately out of sight.

A first lieutenant from a company of Engineers, dug in on a hill behind this C.P., was brought in with very serious stomach wounds from artillery which had been bracketing the area. We placed him in the basement under several warm blankets and Co.C medics made him as comfortable as possible.

The fight continued at a reduced intensity until well after daylight, when Allied soldiers with several Medics and supplies moved up behind our C.P. in weapons carriers. The new soldiers immediately set up machine guns at the rear corners of the stone house and began rapid fire to the front and their respective flanks. They were, apparently, a well-trained team since the gunners would cease fire momentarily to allow the Medics and litter-bearers to enter the C.P. and then immediately commence firing again.

The machine gunners at the house corners kept up their on-and-off firing until all wounded were loaded into the carriers. They were just beginning to move out when an 88 MM hit from a tank far in the distance took part of the roof off the C.P. We abandoned the proverbial sinking ship for whatever salvation we might find in the rear areas. (These were the busiest and most hazardous hours of my entire lifetime and I thank God for permitting me to survive them.)

After running for about 10 minutes and walking for another 10 into the woods to the rear, my driver and gunner suddenly stopped and began moving some broken limbs from behind some rather thick tree trunks.