Death Traps: The Survival of an American Armored Division in World War II

Attack Across the Rhineland

Military historians have often agreed that until you’ve fought the German army, you have never fought a real battle. We had fought the German army, we had fought a real battle, and we had defeated the Germans. We had been heavily bloodied and suffered severe casualties. The Germans had suffered even heavier casualties than we had; however, we had a healthy respect for the German soldier and we realized now that Germany would not surrender until we had defeated all their armies and occupied all of their territory. We expected a bitter struggle right down to the end.

The final major assault across the Roer River and into the Rhineland was designed to destroy as much of the German army as possible and forge a bridgehead across the Rhine to make a major assault on the Ruhr Valley. It was felt that capturing the Ruhr would destroy German industrial potential and help bring the war to a speedy conclusion.

The plan called for VII Corps to attack on a relativly narrow front in the Düren area. After the 104th Infantry Division established the initial bridgehead across the Roer River, the 3d Armored Division was to pass through the infantry and advance to the Erft Canal, about twelve miles away, and establish a bridgehead there. The waters of the Roer River had subsided, but the fields were still soft due to the constant rain over the past few weeks. The armored columns tried to stay on the roads as much as possible. Although the British gave us night bombing support, the low-hanging clouds did not permit the massive high-level daylight bombing that we had had at Saint-Lô. We did, however, have excellent support from 9th Tactical Air Force’s P47 dive-bombers. They were constantly overhead during daylight.

Before the attack started, the entire tank force of the 3d Armored Division was deployed as artillery. The nearly four hundred tanks together with the artillery units was the equivalent of forty-five to fifty artillery battalions. With the L5 Piper Cubs skirting the overhanging clouds, the artillery delivered extremely heavy fire. We had learned our lessons well. For a narrow front of less than two miles, this was an awesome amount of artillery fire. The effect on the enemy was catastrophic.

The day before the Roer River offensive started, we received new 1:10,000 scale black-and-white maps showing the details of the villages, roads, and surrounding fields. At least twenty-four hours before these maps were issued, low-flying recon fighters had passed over and photographed the entire area. These photographs were rushed back to the signal corps map section, which made red overlays of the enemy fortifications. The maps were marked on the bottom, “Enemy installations as of February 21, 0900 hours.”

I didn’t see how they got the maps to us so quickly. The maps showed the most minute details, with the zigzagged German slit trenches marked in red. They also showed antitank guns, artillery emplacements, dug in tank emplacements, and even individual foxholes and machine-gun emplacements.

I later asked a signal corps mapmaker how he could tell whether a foxhole held a machine gun or a rifleman.

He said that the rapid fire blast of an automatic weapon left a trace in the ground several feet long. This pattern was distinctly different from that made by a rifleman firing one shot at a time. In addition, he could sometimes see the pockmarks of freshly turned earth where mines had obviously been planted.

After a heavy artillery barrage, the infantry made the initial assault at 0300 on February 23. The first crossing was made using small assault boats. The infantry soon established a bridgehead in Düren against heavy resistance. An infantry assault on a heavily bombed-out city is extremely risky, because the rubble makes ideal fortifications. The Germans fought tenaciously, and our infantry suffered considerable casualties before they dislodged the Germans from the main part of the city. The engineers followed immediately and started putting up pontoon bridges. After the light personnel bridges were established, they started putting in heavy-duty pontoon bridges to accommodate tanks and other vehicles.

The initial bridgehead was small and had to be expanded to allow our armored division and its vehicles to move in. After months of shelling and bombing, Düren was a morass of fire-gutted buildings and rubble piles.

Combat engineers with bulldozers cleared the areas where they thought the streets had been. An engineer officer who had been in heavy construction in civilian life said he thought it would be much cheaper for the Germans to build an entirely new city a few miles south than try to rebuild this one.

The 104th and the 8th Infantry Divisions fought hard to expand the bridgehead, and on the night of February 24–25, 3d Armored Division columns started crossing into the bridgehead.

Concentrating an armored assault force in a small bridgehead is dangerous, with so many vehicles and troops in a small area. Although we had air superiority most of the time, there was always the danger of an enemy air attack. We had just moved some elements of C Company Maintenance Battalion across the river and they had crawled off the road when the inevitable happened. All of a sudden, thousands of .50-caliber antiaircraft tracers erupted from the earth into a fiery red cone concentrated on a single object. It appeared to be a low-flying twin-engine German fighter plane the likes of which I had not seen before.

When I was stationed in Gloucester in May 1944, I had seen and heard the British Gloucester jet fighters being tested. I recognized immediately the same shrill, screaming noise. It was one of the new Me262s, and it came barreling over our columns like a bat out of hell at a very low altitude. The single bomb that it let go as it flashed by dropped on one of the columns about a hundred yards away. I heard them calling for medics, so there must have been casualties.

Just as the jet dropped its bomb, I saw one of our P47s coming in a sharp dive from several thousand feet headed directly toward the Me262. At this angle the pilot did not fire for fear of hitting our ground troops, but as soon as he leveled off, he started firing. The German plane seemed to take off like a rocket; it appeared to have a speed at least a hundred miles per hour greater than our P47, even in the dive. In a matter of seconds, it disappeared under a low-hanging cloud bank. Our P47s didn’t stand a chance of catching it.

This was a shock to all of our ground troops. We had heard that the Germans had a jet fighter, but this was the first time we saw it in actual combat. I thought immediately that if the Germans could bring several of these planes, they could wrack one of our columns from stem to stern. Unknown to us, the Germans apparently did not have the capability to bring these planes together in a mass attack.

The surprise of seeing the German jet in action generated some uneasy questions in my mind. How did they have jets in operation when we had none? I recalled, when I first arrived in England in September 1943, seeing a write-up in Stars and Stripes about the British development of the jet engine. In May 1944, I was at Gloucester instructing in amphibious tanks. When we road-tested our tanks, the British jets would fly over.

We were impressed with their speed and grace as they came screaming across the tops of the hills, and I was glad they were on our side. I had never heard of an Me262 at the time, and I was surprised now to see one in operation.

The development of the Me262 was a perfect example of the German ability to rapidly utilize new technology. One German advantage was Hitler’s supreme authority; once he made a decision to go after a new weapon or new military technology, he selected certain key people, put them in charge, and backed them to the hilt as long as they did what he said.

Hitler had a fetish for new technology, particularly if it might apply to a secret weapon. He had backed a young amateur German rocket society headed by Dr. Herman Oberth and Dr. Werner von Braun. Contrary to the advice of many of his ground force generals, he thought that military rockets had real potential. This resulted in the V1 jet-propelled pilot-less bomb and the V2 rocket. Both of these weapons affected Allied military decisions to eliminate the rocket launch sites along the coast of France, Belgium, and Holland. The political situation in England put great pressure on General Eisenhower and Field Marshal Montgomery to do something about these weapons. This overemphasis on eliminating the rocket launch sites hampered the Allied campaign in northern Europe.

The 3d Armored Division attacked in strength as it broke out of the bridgehead on the morning of February 26. Although air support from medium and heavy bombers was limited by the low-hanging clouds and drizzling rain, we had massive artillery support and good close support from P47 dive-bombers. After the bitter disappointment of seeing our November offensive ground to a halt, thanks to our narrow-tracked Shermans’ immobility in open country, we were now starting all over again.

The division passed through the bridgehead in five columns. The first objective was to penetrate ten to twelve miles to the Erft Canal and secure bridgeheads across it. The Germans had adequate time to prepare an extremely well-fortified defense in depth. We had hoped that, once we got through the dragons’ teeth and pillboxes of the Siegfried line, the going would be much easier; however, this was not the case.

Although the Germans fought tenaciously, they were resisting our superb firepower and the full strength of a heavy American armored division in assault on a narrow front. The German infantry suffered heavy casualties, and the roadsides were littered with their dead. I was shocked to see a young German soldier sitting fully erect in his foxhole, holding his rifle. He had been struck by a single projectile, and I could see daylight through a two-inch hole in both sides of his helmet and his head. He hadn’t fallen over; he just sat there passively staring out into eternity.

As Task Force Welborn on our extreme left approached the edge of the Hambach Forest to the north, it began to draw heavy small-arms and mortar fire from the woods. An infantry company dispatched toward the woods was soon pinned down. Fortunately, it had a forward observer directing fire from an 8-inch howitzer battalion on the west bank of the river. Having experience with the proximity fuse in the Ardennes, he called for the first round of HE with the fuse to mark the target. The round exploded some hundred feet in the air above the tops of the trees right at the edge of the woods. He adjusted the fire a hundred yards to the north for the second round. The proximity fuse set off the second round about two hundred feet in the air at about forty-five degrees, creating a pattern of deadly shell fragments about three hundred feet in diameter on the ground.

The effect of these shells bursting in the air decimated the German infantry on the ground, and the German commander offered to surrender. The American company commander called for a cease-fire, and the remnants of a German infantry battalion, about three hundred men, came out of the woods with their hands behind their heads. The German commander said that he had left many killed and wounded back in the woods.

Several of our task forces began to converge on Elsdorf, which they found heavily defended with log roadblocks, antitank mines, antitank guns, and assault guns, plus German infantry armed with the deadly panzerfausts. The Germans would try to pin down our task forces with heavy fire, then launch a counterattack with armor on the flanks. The counterattack came soon, spearheaded by four Mark VI King Tigers and two Mark IV tanks.

Fortunately, Task Force Lovelady’s brand-new M26 had a good firing position on the flank and caught the Germans by surprise. It knocked out two Tigers and one Mark IV tank at a range of a thousand yards. The Germans had no idea that we had a tank that could knock out the Mark VI at this range.

To my knowledge, this was the first time that one of our M26 Pershings actually engaged the King Tiger in combat. Had the Tigers made a frontal assault, it is doubtful that the M26 could have knocked them out, because our M36 tank destroyers with the same 90mm gun had difficulty penetrating the Mark V Panther tank on the faceplate.

On the southern flank of the division, CCA ran into heavy resistance in the vicinity of Blatzheim and Kerpen.

Task Force Doan alone lost four tanks in Blatzheim. The Germans fought desperately on the approaches to the canal, the last major obstacle before the flat, open Cologne Plain. The division had now penetrated ten to twelve miles from its jump-off point and had encountered almost every type of resistance. Combat Command A and CCB had gone all out and sustained considerable casualties. General Rose decided to commit CCR to establish a bridgehead across the canal, and soon the entire division was across.

In this area, between the canal and Cologne and extending north and south for several miles, was a series of large, open-pit coal mines. These “vobridge” pits were irregularly shaped, about a mile to a mile and a half across, and six hundred to seven hundred feet deep. Roads spiraled around the edges of the pits down to the bottom for access by dump trucks and power shovels. Beneath three to six feet of topsoil lay tremendous veins of brown coal (lignite) that extended downward six hundred feet or more. The power shovels would load the lignite into dump trucks, which in turn would take it to a long belt conveyor that carried it up the side of the pit to a large power plant.

These vobridge mines together with the adjacent power plants extended many miles north. The plants supplied a major part of the electric power not only for Cologne and other cities but also for the industrial Ruhr, the heart of the German steel industry. Combat Command A captured the Fortuna power plant at Bergheim. Purported to be the largest steam-generating plant in Europe, it had been relatively unscathed by any previous bombing action and was still in operation when we approached it on March 1,1945.

The plant had several large cooling towers—reinforced concrete cylinders some 250 feet in diameter and 300 feet high. From these towers German observers were directing artillery fire. A few shots from our tanks knocked large, gaping holes in the top of the towers and eliminated these observation posts. Other than this, the plant sustained little damage. The operators had banked the furnaces and shut down the turbines when we approached.

The Fortuna power plant was equipped with American Westinghouse turbo generators. The boilers and most of the auxiliary equipment reportedly were also of American manufacture.

A large petrochemical plant that processed the brown coal was served by conveyors that carried the coal into a series of large, vertical dryers. In this state, the coal looked like a kind of wet, dark, pulverized sand. After drying, part of the material went to the burners and boilers and part to the chemical processing plant. The chemical plant pressed the material into lignite bricks for German domestic consumption. The rest of it was converted into lubricants and low-grade fuel for the German army. A number of petrochemical tank cars filled with this fuel sat on railroad sidings, ready for shipment to German army depots.

All east-west access roads and railroads had to run through narrow strips between the coal mines, which the Germans heavily fortified with roadblocks. The terrain between the vobridges—flat and open, with little vegetation for cover—offered ideal fields of fire. Because we had had a considerable number of tanks knocked out in this area, we established a major VCP at the Fortuna power plant. If the first German shot could immoblize a tank by breaking a track, the Germans would continue to fire until they set the tank on fire.

One of the new M4A3E2 tanks was brought into the VCP by the wreckers. The E2 designation indicated that the tank was experimental. We had received several of these, a hurry-up version that attempted to overcome the inadequate armor of the M4. It had an extra inch of armor welded on the front of the glacis plate and one-inch slabs of armor welded on each side of the sponsons. This gave the glacis plate an effective armor of three and a half inches and the sponsons three inches.

Although this laminated armor was not as good as solid armor, it was a lot better than what we had. The new tanks also had a heavy cast steel turret and an inch more of armor all around. This gave the turret five inches of armor on the front, tapering to three inches and down to two inches on the sides and rear. In addition, there was a heavy three- to four-inch gun mantlet mounted on the gun tube itself. We had been told that these tanks would be used for frontal assaults, but they still had the old M2 short-barreled 75mm gun. It appeared inconceivable that the army would go to the trouble of beefing up the armor but leave the gun armament the same. This extra armor added three to four tons of weight, yet the tank still had the same narrow track as the original M4A3. This limited its use in soft, muddy terrain even more.

Even with all its extra armor, the tank was penetrated twice by high-velocity German antitank projectiles. The first penetration was in the upper-right-hand corner of the tank where the reinforced glacis plate, side sponson, and top deck came together. It entered the tank directly over the head of the assistant driver and glanced down into the interior of the main fighting compartment. The next penetration struck the gun mantlet on the right side near the gunner’s telescopic site. It penetrated the four-inch mantlet, then passed through five inches of armor near the gun trunnion and entered the turret. It was difficult to imagine how anyone could have survived.

The Super Pershing M26A1E2 Tank Arrives

A large steel-fabricating shop and machine shop next to the power plant apparently had made a great deal of the plant’s processing equipment. Company C maintenance took over these shops for their extensive paved areas and covered work space.

Major Arrington assigned me a special project. A graduate engineer, Arrington had run his own fabricating and machine shop business in Brookhaven, Mississippi, before entering the army. As I entered his shop trailer, he was sitting at his desk with his feet propped up. I could detect a glint in his eye. He kind of half winked at Sergeant Wacowski, then addressed me in a slow drawl.

“Cooper, you’ve been talking big and strong about what a naval architect you are and about how you calculate the center of gravity on ships. I know damn well you’re the only officer here with the audacity to keep a slide rule in your Jeep locker. Well, you’re gonna have a chance to show how sharp you are.”

Arrington had a perceptive mind, but he liked to generate a laid-back Southern attitude to show that he had just enough good ol’ boy in him to have a good sense of humor and at the same time snap back like a steel trap to make sure you stayed on the ball. He told me to sit down, and we got into some serious talking. He explained that we were to be issued a single new Super M26 Pershing, the only tank of this type to be shipped to the European theater. The tank had a new experimental 90mm T15E1 high-velocity gun, seventy calibers (the length divided by the diameter) long. The larger the caliber, the longer the barrel, which gives the propellant charge explosion more time to expand against the base of the projectile and results in a higher velocity. With new special ammunition, this gun could produce a muzzle velocity of 3,850 feet per second, some 600 feet per second greater than the 88mm KwK43 gun mounted on the German PzKw VIb King Tiger.

Army ordnance was interested in getting the new tank into combat, hoping to match it against the King Tiger.

Having already lost several of the new M26s to high-velocity German antitank guns, we knew that its armor was still inferior to that of the Mark VI Tiger. My job was to design and install additional armor on the new tank.

The well-equipped German fabricating shop contained several large pieces of inch-and-a-half boiler plate. We decided to use a laminated design for the glacis plate. We cut two pieces of the boiler plate and fashioned a V shape to fit over the V shape of the glacis plate and the lower front plate. The top glacis plate was set at thirty-eight degrees from the horizontal, which gave fifty-two degrees from the vertical and was considered to be the critical angle to generate a ricochet. This gave an air gap of zero at the top and approximately three inches at the knuckle, where the bottom front plate came in contact.

A second boiler plate was cut in a similar fashion and set at a thirty-degree angle extending out over the first plate. Where it came in contact with the bottom plate, it left a gap of seven to eight inches. We wound up with four inches of cast armor on the original glacis plate and two inch-and-a-half pieces of boiler plate with an air gap in between. We thought that even though the boiler plate was softer, the lamination and the lowered angle of incidence would help German projectiles ricochet. The new armor added about five tons to the front of the tank. A ruler was used to measure how much this would deflect the forward torsion arm bogey wheels.

We then cut a section from the faceplate of a knocked-out German Panther and trimmed it to three and a half inches thick by five feet long by two feet wide. We cut a large hole in the middle to accommodate the gun tube and two smaller holes on each side to accommodate the coaxial machine gun and the telescopic site. We slipped this plate over the gun barrel, brought it down against the mantlet, and welded it firmly all the way around. With its center of gravity fourteen inches forward of the centerline of the trunnion, this plate, which weighed fourteen hundred pounds, made the gun barrel considerably heavier on the front end.

The Super M26 Pershing already had overhead equilibrator springs attached to the turret and to the original gun mantlet, which were supposed to offset the extra length of the barrel. But the weight we had added overcame the strength of the equilibrator springs, and the gun barrel sagged forward. The mechanical gear reduction inside the turret, used to raise and lower the barrel, was insufficient to overcome this weight.

To compensate, we took two pieces of inch-and-a-half boiler plate and cut some odd-looking counterweights approximately three and a half feet long, starting one foot wide for about the first eighteen inches, then flaring to approximately two feet wide for the next twenty-four inches. We welded the narrow ends to the sides of the Panther mantlet and let them extend back horizontally and flaire out slightly to miss the turret. This put the heavier section on the back side of the trunnion, thus giving a counterweight effect. These counterweights helped, although it was still difficult for the gunner to raise the gun with a mechanical elevating mechanism.

It was obvious that additional weight should be added to these counterweights, but the question was how much and where. From my limited knowledge of engineering mechanics, I knew that this would require a lengthy calculation, and the information and time were not available. This was what the major had in mind when he’d made the snide remark about my slide rule.

We decided to use an empirical method. We took some inch-and-a-half plates about one foot wide and two feet long and attached them to the rear of the large counterweights with C-clamps. By moving these weights back and forth, by trial and error we finally reached a balance point where the gun was easy to raise and lower manually. Then we welded the plates into position.

With the gun barrel rotated forward, the tank looked like a raging, charging bull elephant. The long gun stuck out like a trunk; the big, bulbous counterweights stood out like ears; and the holes in the gun mantlet for the telescopic site and the machine gun looked like eyes. We hoped it would make the same impression on the Germans.

The turret had already been modified with a counterweight on the back to compensate for the long gun. We added more counterweight to compensate. Otherwise, when the tank was on a slope, it would be difficult to traverse the turret even with a power traverse. We had noted this problem with the German Panther. If it was on a decided slope and the gun was swinging downhill, it took a long time for the German gunner to rotate the turret forward with its manual traverse.

We had now added seven tons to the tank. We checked our ground distances again and found that the bogey wheels were deflecting down an additional two inches. This caused the rear of the tank to cock up like a wild drake in heat. In spite of its odd appearance, and the fact that we had probably slowed it down about five miles an hour, the tank, with its 550-horse-power motor, still had plenty of power.

Next, we road-tested the tank, then drove it to the edge of the vobridge to test-fire the gun. We looked around for a suitable target and finally found a knocked-out German Jagdpanzer IV assault gun that had been hit by a single shot to the flank and had not burned. We hooked it up to one of our wreckers and dragged it to the other side of the vobridge, on the first level about fifty feet below the crest. The Jagdpanzer was positioned with the forward glacis plate facing us. The distance to our target was approximately a mile and a half.

The ammunition for the 90mm T15E1 gun was a standard 90mm round, but the cartridge case was longer to accommodate a larger propellant charge. Initially, we used two men to load the round into the tube. However, after a little more experience, one man could do it, albeit with some difficulty. There were bound to be some problems with an experimental tank.

Major Dick Johnson sent over the crew from the 33d Armored Regiment to operate this tank. We wound up instructing them at the same time we were learning ourselves. An artillery maintenance sergeant in charge of the firing had previously bore-sighted the gun, so we were ready to fire. I made sure that everybody stood back to the sides and rear of the tank to give the blast cone adequate clearance.

Anyone standing behind an M4 Sherman could see the projectile go out and curve down slightly as it sped toward the target. This new high-velocity gun was entirely different. When we fired the first round, we could barely see the projectile. It appeared to rise slightly as it struck the target. This was an optical illusion, but the effect was awesome. When it hit the target, sparks shot about sixty feet into the air, as though a giant grinding wheel had hit a piece of metal.

When we looked at the target, I was dumbfounded. The 90mm projectile penetrated four inches of armor; went through a five-inch final drive differential shaft, the fighting compartment, and the rear partition of the fighting compartment; penetrated the four-and-a-half-inch crankshaft of the Maybach engine and the one-inch rear armor plate; and dug itself into the ground so deep that we could not locate it. Although we had been told by the ordnance officers from Aberdeen that the tank gun could penetrate thirteen inches of armor at a hundred yards, it was still difficult to believe this awesome power. We all realized that we had a weapon that could blast the hell out of even the most powerful German Mark VI Tiger.

We instructed the new crew on the use of the gun and let each man fire it. We explained that the special ammunition was longer and more difficult to load and that the extra armor would make the tank more difficult to steer; however, with a little experience they could work this out. Although the tank had extra armor, they were not to expose it foolishly. The objective was to get into combat under the best conditions and see what it could do against German armor.

The crew was so glad to get this tank that the men were willing to suffer any inconvenience. I’m sure they felt that the tank, supposedly the most powerful of any in the American, German, or Russian armies, increased their chances of survival.

I told Major Johnson that he ought to have his crew watch this tank closely, particularly the final drive and track system and the engine, because the seven extra tons of armor might eventually cause some maintenance problems. In spite of this, I felt that the tank should be able to perform its mission.

The Assault on Cologne

On March 2, the VII Corps had established a small but fairly firm bridgehead on the east bank of the Erft Canal. General “Lightning Joe” Collins and General Rose thoroughly understood each other, and Collins had great confidence in Rose, who was extremely aggressive and strongly believed in exercising command from the forwardmost elements.

The 3d Armored Division moved out of the bridgehead with two combat commands abreast and one in reserve. Each of the combat commands was heavily reinforced from the infantry divisions. Before daybreak on March 3, the division launched an all-out assault against Cologne.

Combat Command R ran into heavy resistance at Stommeln. The Germans were heavily dug in with armor and infantry. Although P47s worked the town over and inflicted severe damage on the Germans, they still held on. General Rose committed CCB in a flank attack; after heavy fighting, the defense of the town collapsed and the division regrouped and proceeded. This textbook-style armored movement not only overcame German resistance in the heavily fortified town but prevented the Germans from escaping to the next town to set up another defense in depth. This same tactic was successfully used over and over in the battle of Cologne.

While CCB was outflanking Stommeln, the 83d Reconnaissance Battalion bypassed Sinnersdorf and headed straight toward the Rhine River at Worringen. There they ran into a hornet’s nest. The Ninth Army had reached the Rhine north of us, and German troops pinned between the Ninth and First Armies were streaming south toward the bridges at Worringen and Cologne. The 83d was greatly outnumbered and had to withdraw slightly; however, they were immediately reinforced by CCB, which finally cut off the Germans coming from the north. Large numbers of prisoners were taken in this area.

Although the 3d Armored Division had experience in city fighting, Cologne was by far the largest city we had encountered. From the air it looks like a giant half circle stretching along the west bank of the Rhine River.

The heart of the city, which in peacetime had a population of 800,000, had been heavily damaged by aerial bombing. The German army made good use of the skeletal walls of burned-out buildings, and intact buildings were also heavily fortified.

At dawn on March 4, the entire VII Corps advanced on Cologne and areas south toward Bonn to try to destroy and capture all German units west of the Rhine. The 3d Armored Division attacked with CCB on the left from the north road to the river farther southwest, where it linked up with CCA, whose sector ended south of Sinnersdorf. The 1st Infantry Division with CCR attached covered the area south of the city and advanced toward Bonn.

The greatest threat to a tank entering narrow city streets is attack from above; the lightest armor is on its top deck. Because a tank is relatively blind when buttoned up, it becomes heavily exposed when under observation from the upper floors of buildings. Early in the war, the Germans had learned the danger of a bottle filled with gasoline, wrapped in a gasoline-soaked cloth, ignited, and thrown on top of a tank. This “Molotov cocktail” turned the tank into a blazing inferno. The light top deck armor could also be easily penetrated by a panzerfaust.

The greatest dangers to infantry were sniper and automatic weapons fire from well-protected positions in the buildings, plus mortar and artillery fire directed by forward observers on the upper floors. Nothing was more effective than the direct fire of a tank at close range against a fortified position.

As the infantry started down the block, they would fan out and crouch down low against the edge of the buildings on both sides. The first tank would echelon to the right, the second tank to the left some twenty-five to fifty yards to the rear. The first tank would fire down the street at the building on the left in the next block, concentrating on the upper floors. Generally it would fire both HE and white phosphorus to set the tops of the buildings on fire. Any Germans not killed by these immediate blasts would run into the basements, but the infantry would toss grenades in the basement windows and kill any men caught down there. The second tank would concentrate on the right side of the street, using the same tactics. Any survivors would come screaming out of the building with their hands over their heads.

Combat Command A was making good progress through the center of the city when Task Force Kane ran upon the airfield. The field was protected by sixteen dual-purpose 88mm guns. To approach them, the tanks had to cross the open airport runways. They called for an artillery barrage of white phosphorus smoke shells.

Under the cover of the smoke screen, the tanks advanced across the open field with infantry riding on their backs and soon overran the 88s and the infantry surrounding them. This was a good example of the close cooperation between the tanks and the self-propelled artillery. Had the tanks made a frontal assault across the open airport, they could have been slaughtered by the 88s. Spearhead had learned its lesson well, having paid for it dearly in blood and tank losses in previous engagements.

Meanwhile, CCB on the north met extremely heavy resistance. The Hohenzollern bridge, in the heart of the city just opposite the Domplatz, was the last remaining bridge across the Rhine at Cologne. As CCA and the 104th Infantry Division began to close in, the Germans blew the bridge, and the remaining German troops tried to escape north on the river road, apparently hoping that the bridge at Düsseldorf might still be open.

Combat Command B had to bear the full brunt of this advance. As CCB traveled along the river road and other streets parallel to it, it came in contact with several batteries of dual-purpose 88s supported by tanks and assault guns. At the same time, CCB was being harassed by flanking fire from German batteries dug in across the river. The ensuing engagement was extremely heavy, especially for CCB’s Task Force Lovelady.

The two combat commanders, General Hickey of CCA and General Boudinot of CCB, didn’t hesitate to use the natural rivalry between the commands to spur their troops to greater efforts. Although all American soldiers realized that the Germans were the enemy, friendly rivalry promoted esprit de corps. It was with such thoughts that General Boudinot called Colonel Lovelady on the radio.

“Lovelady. Boudinot here. Where are you?”

“General, we’re at phase line B and stopped cold in our tracks,” Lovelady responded, “but we’re holding on as best we can.”

“Task Force Doan is all the way down to phase line K,” Boudinot replied, “and they’re going to capture the center of the city before we even get inside the city limits.”

After ducking a few more rounds of incoming 88 shells, Lovelady pressed the button on the radio phone.

“General, it’s not competition I’m worried about at this point, it’s opposition,” and he hung up.

Task Force Lovelady finally overcame this heavy opposition and continued south down the river road into the factory area, where it encountered more resistance. The Ford Motor Company had a large assembly plant in this area that made trucks for the German army. The plant had sustained little damage and was captured largely intact. On the roof of the main administrative building was a large executive boardroom, beautifully paneled on one side and with large plate-glass windows with heavy draperies on the side facing the river. A long oak table surrounded by a dozen or more stuffed leather chairs occupied the center of the room. The walls were festooned with swastika symbols, and on the end wall was a life-sized portrait of Adolf Hitler.

Standing in this handsome room and looking out over the broad vista of the river, I couldn’t help but wonder why this plant had such little damage whereas the surrounding area had been devastated by bombing. From the large windows we could clearly see the German positions across the river, and I’m sure the Germans could see us. It occurred to me that this wasn’t a safe place to be; however, the Germans didn’t fire across the river at the plant while I was there.

Combat Command B and CCA eventually converged at the cathedral. Although sporadic sniper fire continued, German resistance in the city had collapsed. As a last act of defiance, a German Panther engaged one of our Shermans in front of the cathedral and knocked it out, killing three of the crew. One of the new M26 Pershing tanks came up from around the corner (into the main square in front of the cathedral) taking the German Panther completely by surprise. The M26, commanded by Ssgt. Bob Early with Cpl. Clarence Smoyer, gunner, headed straight toward the flank of the Panther. Corporal Smoyer had engaged the gyrostabilizer gun control, which allowed the 90mm gun to maintain its level position while the tank was still in motion. All American tanks were equiped with the gun stabilizer, but it was seldom used in combat as most gunners still preferred to fire from a stationary position. The Panther crew expected the Pershing to stop before firing. As the Panther was swinging its gun around, the Pershing bore down at top speed and Smoyer let go with the first round, which struck just the Panther gun shield deflecting down through the thin top deck armor, severing the German gunner’s leg and killing him. Corporal Smoyer fired two more rounds through the side of the Panther, setting it on fire. Three of the crew were burned to death while the other two bailed out.

This was the last armored engagement in the city. The battle of Cologne was over.

The heart of Cologne was devastated by heavy aerial bombing. The main railway station in the heart of town was destroyed. However, eight hundred railroad cars were still intact in the marshaling yard, which extended radially northwestward for more than a mile. Many of the cars were loaded with German ordnance equipment and other supplies. Although the bombing around the cathedral was heavy, it was obvious that both our air force and the RAF had deliberately refrained from bombing the cathedral itself.

On entering the cathedral through the main front doors, we immediately encountered a tremendous amount of rubble: wooden pews, benches, and chairs plus gargoyles and statuettes that had fallen to the floor. Many of the windows had shattered, although the Germans had long since removed the beautiful stained-glass windows. At least one 500-pound bomb had penetrated the transept on the south side of the cathedral. The explosion blew off a large section of the roof and destroyed all the windows in this section of the structure, but the main stone buttresses did not appear to be structurally damaged. Ernie Nibbelink had his camera and took several pictures, probably the first taken inside the cathedral after the city fell.

By March 7 the city was completely occupied, and the 3d Armored Division took a well-deserved rest.

Combat replacements came up, the ordnance ammunition unit resup-plied all units, and our maintenance crews concentrated on much-needed repairs.

We occupied Cologne for the next few days. Other than an occasional incoming artillery or mortar round, the city was relatively calm. Many of the buildings, particularly the hotels, had basements that were three or four levels deep that had been converted into bomb shelters. Our troops moved in and made themselves comfortable while awaiting orders. It did not take the soldiers long to find the elaborate wine cellars in some of the hotels; GIs seem to have an almost radarlike sense for locating any form of alcohol. In one hotel alone, our troops found 750,000 bottles of wine, Cognac, champagne, and schnapps. That in itself was enough for every man in First Army to have at least two bottles.

First Army, which had taken the major brunt of the fighting in Western Europe since D day, was rumored to be replaced by the newly formed Fifteenth Army. First Army would continue to hold its positions on the west bank of the Rhine; after the river was crossed we would be phased out of the European theater entirely. We planned to go down to Marseilles for a few days of rest and relaxation, then get ready to be shipped to the Pacific for the invasion of Japan.

Our corps commander, General Collins, addressed the troops in a special formation in the Cologne sports plaza. VII Corps had made the breakthrough in Normandy, blocked the German counterattack at Mortain, closed the Falaise Pocket, enveloped Paris, and driven through Namur and Liège into Germany. General Collins, who noted that he’d had the privilege of commanding many fine divisions and some truly great ones, classified the 3d Armored among the great ones; it was the first unit to break completely through the Siegfried line and capture a German town, which earned it the well-deserved nickname of Spearhead. All of our soldiers were issued a little yellow patch with a black border and a red spearhead in the middle with “Spearhead” written around the bottom. This was to be worn on the right upper sleeve of the blouse opposite the 3d Armored Division patch on the left sleeve. In addition, the division patch was redesigned, and the notation “Spearhead” was added to the bottom. We were also issued little yellow spearhead medallions to paste on the right side of our helmet liners. The men were proud of this nickname.

We were finally briefed that the main Allied effort was going to come from the 21st Army Group, north of us.

This was to be a major amphibious assault and perhaps the largest single buildup since D day. The assault would be preceded by a massive air and artillery bombardment. The navy had been ordered to operate assault landing craft on the river. The quartermaster truck groups included several battalions of DUKW amphibious trucks. There were also several battalions of tracked landing vehicles (LVTs). In April 1944, I had helped train the quartermaster truck group at Gloucester to maintain and operate the new LVTs. We had apparently done a good job, because they were reported to have operated effectively in the low, swampy marshes around Carentan during the Normandy invasion.

On March 7, while we were in Cologne awaiting the grand finale, Combat Command B of the 9th Armored Division captured intact the Ludendorff bridge at Remagen. The sudden, unexpected capture of a bridge across the Rhine River took SHAEF completely by surprise and sent shock waves through the high echelons of command. Although the 21st Army Group was still to make its major crossing of the Rhine, the capture of the Remagen bridgehead brought the major thrust into the heart of Germany back to the 12th Army Group and particularly to the First Army. The battle of the Rhineland was rapidly drawing to an end, and the battle of central Germany was about to begin.