BASTOGNE REMEMBERED

On the 15th December 2006 members of A.I.M travelled to Bastogne with other groups to pay homage to the men who fought there, Pvt Jeff Deere recalls his experiences...

Friday

For me it started around about 8.45pm, I found myself at a crossroads, hoping this was my rendezvous point. I couldn’t see a thing, it was blacker than black, and to make it worse, it was dark too. I waited what seemed ages, (about an hour) for my pick up, finally it arrived. I climbed into the back of the truck….  Ok it was a mini bus, (go with me on this chaps) the driver mumbled something like “bloody miss-drops”   turns out I wasn’t the only one, there was quite a few of us.

We travelled for a while and picked up a couple more miss-drops. We got to the channel tunnel, but we missed our train.  The next one won’t be until 1.30 am. I thought, blimey I’m way off, I was meant to be dropped off in Belgium, crikey I’m way off course. I blame the pilot.  Turns out he had the map upside down. I don’t remember much after getting onto the train, I feel asleep.
I awoke to find myself in Belgium, and everyone climbing out the van. Nature calls….      Haaaaaaaaaaa      (opposes   was that too much info???) After about an hour we arrived at our barracks. 

Well not quite, more like a Palace,   it had everything,   sauna, showers…..But alas not a woman in sight. Who’s going to tuck me into my bed I thought??   Just then our first sergeant appeared.     He lined us up and explained to us he was our mother and everything would be ok. Some how I wasn’t convinced…Before we knew it, we were unloading the vans and finding ourselves a bunk.
We had a short time to do this and to get into kit, as we were going for a drive. Oh that’ll be nice I thought a nice drive out in the country side, take in some sights, see the locals, and have a beer…..      Mmmmm   how wrong was I.

Just then Shorty turned up, (Jon)   we exchanged hello’s and sorted out our kit.      Jon said that this weekend he was going to be

a medic, after being put into our squads and given a half track we were off. I think the driver was in a rush, we sped thro the country, missing all the sights, even passed the pubs.  Is this driver English I thought?

The way we tore through the country side, you would have thought there was a war or somefink….We arrived in Bastogne. We looked a state, our hair messed up, freezing cold. The half track was an open top.  I did ask the driver if we could pull the top over, the driver said something about horrocks, I didn’t quite understand what he meant by that??

We drove around the town square for a bit, scaring the odd old little lady to pieces, and whistling to the lovely girls……….     We tried to smuggle a couple of them back with us, but we were told “no tits in armour”     Spoilt sports…

(That’s young girls just in case you thought other wise) We drove through the town; just outside of the town was the war memorial.
We all climbed   off the vehicles and slowly made our way there.

Sad thing it was dark by now, but even so the way it was light up, it looked awesome, and very big, very big indeed. You couldn’t really take it all in properly because it was dark.

But in the day time it would look just as awesome as it was in the dark. After a little time of gathering our thoughts (which didn’t take too long) we were off on another magical mystery tour. We pulled up in the middle of no-where.   It was so dark you couldn’t see a thing.   Not even your hand in front of your face.

And boy was it getting cold.  Just across from where we had parked, were some woods.  Not just any woods, Thee woods.
The woods where the 101st did their stuff.  I just stood there. My mind racing through the episode where Doc roe does his stuff.
I stood there for what seemed ages, (minutes really)   I couldn’t believe I was here, here in the woods where it all happened.

The squad I was in, started walking towards the woods and entered them. I followed; I have to say I was a wee bit nervous, not because it was pitch black, but because I had read, watched documentariesabout this place. I guess I was over come with emotions, here I was, standing where guys had fought and died, eat and slept. Pretty awesome.

We stumbled around most of the time, you just couldn’t see a thing, and you had to rely on a torch. How on earth those guys did night patrols is beyond me?? One chap fell in a fox hole, all you could here was “I found one”!!!    We all ran to where the voice came from, some one shone the torch, yep he found one alright, a real beauty too.  

Must have been a two man one.It was quite deep for sixty odd years old. After that we came across quite a few fox holes.
We made our way to the edge of the woods and looked down into Foy.  

You could see the town all lite up from the street and house lights.  How many soldiers had stood where we were looking at the same thing?? (Except for the lights)  For me that half hour or so was quite a humbling experience.We got a call to climb back on the half tracks, it was time we left and head back to our digs.

Mmmmm   warmth here we come….     

Saturday

Now Saturday’s to me mean a nice long lie in, a nice cup of coffee and a couple of pieces of toast with some marmalade.
But not this Saturday, we were woken up around about 5.30 ish with a “come on lads, time to get up”
What on earth am I doing here??  I thought. Well after stumbling around half awake for a bit I managed get into kit and find my way up to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and maybe some breaky.

I met an old mate of mine in the kitchen, an old cooking buddy. So what delights have you done for us this morning??   A mixture of baked beans and kidney beans and a couple of hot dogs.   Mmmm   that keeps us going in more ways than one…..

Well it wasn’t long before we were back in the half tracks and heading into Bastogne.  Do you remember in the Band of Brother’s the injured were taken into Bastogne and taken to the church, now apparently (so I’m told) this is not so, they were taken to the convent. (See pics below) I was told this story; it came out and was told around the wards.
It concerned a Red Cross Worker, a Miss Eisenstadt, she picked up a chart expecting to see where and how the patient was wounded. What she saw astonished her. “How on earth did you get shot by two arrows?” she asked.

The full-blooded American Indian lying on the cot replied “That’s my name, not my injury”      Just thought I’d throw that in…

Anyway, back to the story.

It was nice going back in to Bastogne this time, you could see the town in day light, we drove past some of the old buildings that are still standing and are still lived in. You can still see the shrapnel holes on them, amazing…. 
 On the way into town there’s one building (farm house if my memory ‘s correct) and on one side there’s bullet holes all over and as you come round to the front of it and look up to the window on the first floor there’s a concentration of bullet holes, kind of makes you wonder what was going on there??

We parked up, was put into three squads and set off on a 12-15 mile march, I say 12 to 15 miles because people were saying it was either 12 or 15. Either way, it was still a long way, even more so in kit. We set off, not a bad pace.
For me this was something I hadn’t done since I was in the cadets and in the TA,  at one point I’m sure my feet said to me, what are you doing to us??

Actually is wasn’t that bad, doing this march, you got to see the towns, fields and woods that the 101st dug in, ran across.
(This pic shows the woods where E co started their advance to Foy)

 (This pic shows how much ground Eco had to cover. In the distance is new house)

As a 506th fan for me this was special and I can now say I was there, walked and stood where these giants had been? I know you mustn’t put these guys on a pedestal, but you have to admire them. Not just the 506th or the 101st, but all veterans, veterans you never here of. About half way round we came to what looked like a gathering of eagles,   now this was a sight to see, as we came into a clump of woods there were vehicles parked along one side, and some guys dug in on the other side. And every now and then a convoy of vehicles of all sizes drove past. We can’t go back in time, but for that split second or so, looking and watching this all going on around me, I thought to myself, wow this is what you may have seen??  

It was chow time;   time to rest up and have some hot soup, there was even hot coffee. I found a tree (not that hard when ya in the woods) and sat down and lent up against it to relax this aching body of mine.

I thought I’d broken my boots in, but as the march went on I got the feeling this wasn’t the case. I had this nagging feeling I had a blister. Turns out afterwards it was the size of a 50p. And to make it worse it had rubbed a few too many layers, as it was bleeding.  (You really wanted to know that didn’t you  ha-ha)   I had some soup and then some coffee, the coffee was just what the doc ordered, and it hit the right spot. Then I heard that sound that will haunt me for days after….    FALL IN!! Oh god here we go again……

We only went a short way when we came across a memorial standing by the road side; it paid tribute to the chaps in the 506th who lost their lives in the woods and in the background was the field they ran across to get into Foy.

As we entered Foy there sitting on the road side, what looked like a squad of Belgium regulars having a bit of a rest, we march right by them without stopping, they all stopped what they were doing and watched up go by, I felt quite proud, I was with group of guys who have down this before and in my mind are in a different league to the group I use to be in.
The last leg of the march was a bit tough going, we marched on what looked to me anyway, a disused rail track. The rails had been taken away but the stones where still there.

I ended up being the last man in the column, my foot was really killing me and to make it worse it was raining.  But you dig in and keep going; I guess it’s time like this you find about yourself and what your body can take.
As we marched on I heard this familiar sound, it didn’t register at once, then I heard it again, I was too tired to turn my head towards the sound, then I heard it again, I’m thinking, I know that sound, I turned and there across the field was the war memorial we visited earlier. I know this is the wrong this to say, but I was so glad to see it, it meant we were nearly home. I looked at the building again and again as we passed it. Selfish I know but for me it was a welcome sight. We headed into Bastogne, and came to a halt just down the road aways from the halftracks. We were dismissed and given time to rest up.

For me that was the best part of the weekend.

I had seen the town Bastogne, and walked/stood where it all happened.

In the distance you can see the tree line; this is where the 501st dug in

In the far distance you can see the woods; to the far right is where the 327th were dug in.  The 506th were in the centre and to the left.