A Thoughtful Christmas Gift
Copyright© 2025 by Paladin_HGWT
Chapter 6: Reconnaissance Patrol
Werbomont, Belgium
0630 Hours, 19 December, 1944
After briefing Lieutenant Kellogg, and Corporal Lisle, what I had been told by Colonel Tucker, and Captain Grossruck, I put away the map overlay in my map satchel, and called the men of First Squad over, and said, “We have been ordered to conduct a route reconnaissance from here to the town of Rahier, five miles to the east. The Situation is uncertain. It could rain, or snow at any time. Friendly forces are in disarray, and some, in particular, artillery, service and support units are withdrawing west over the Salm River, and past us.”
I continued, “Enemy forces, in particular Panzer spearheads may have penetrated our friendly lines, and be headed in our direction. There are also reports of possible German Paratroopers in our area. Regiment doesn’t have any indication that there are enemy along our route, but we should be alert for possible threats.”
I said, “Our Mission is to conduct a rapid rout recon, on foot along a secondary road to the east. About a mile or two there is a tertiary road or trail that branches north of the main route. We will take that route to the town of Chevron, roughly 2 miles from us, but following the road more like three or four miles. We will continue a similar distance to the town of Rahier. Speed is essential. Second Battalion will be following us, so we need to report the route is clear, at lest to Chevron, before they get to the turn off.”
I concluded, “The only ammunition, food, water, and such, is what we carry with us. Regiment has provided Signalmen Davidson and Steerman, so that we may report to Battalion, and ‘Handy-Talkies’ so we can talk to Lieutenant Kellogg and the rest of Fox Company, if we are close enough. Any questions?”
PFC Betts said, “Eh Sarge...” at a look from me, he amended, “Uh, Sarh-gent. I, uh, heard there’s Krauts dressed like Legs, an’ up ta’ no good behind our lines?”
I said, “Regiment is aware that there might be German saboteurs in American uniforms. But, we don’t know all of the units in front of us. We are to leave figuring out who is who to Officers and the Military Police. Don’t believe anything anyone not in the Chain of Command says. Listen to me, Corporal Lisle, and Lieutenant Kellogg.”
PFC Bishop asked, “Is Lieutenant, uh, Kellogg leading the patrol? Why are you briefing us?”
Lieutenant Kellogg said, “Colonel Tucker personally selected Sergeant Hamlin to lead this patrol. I am just listening in. Third Platoon and the rest of Fox Company should be heading out soon. Follow the orders of Sergeant Hamlin and Corporal Lisle, they have more information than we have time to impart.”
Before I could end the briefing, PFC Coogan asked, “Why aren’t we taking a bazooka, if German tanks are a possibility.”
I said, “We need to move as fast as possible, and thus travel as light as possible. If we encounter an enemy recon force, a couple of half-tracks, we might engage them with Corporal Lisle’s grenade launcher. Most likely we will seek cover and concealment, and report to Battalion.”
I then said, “okay, we are burning daylight. Let’s move out.”
Lieutenant Kellogg said, “Sergeant Hamlin, have your men leave their rucksacks and blanket rolls here. I will see to it that they are loaded on the First Sergeant’s jeep, or the attached trailer. If you need to break contact, and for the rest of your mission, you should carry only the minimum encumbrance.”
I said, “Men, get your rucks, and drop them here. Then, meet at the door. Move.”
Corporal Lisle and I kept our eyes on Jenkins, Betts, and the replacements, but they all quickly got their rucks, placed them where directed, and were prepared to depart. Once we were all together I had everyone load their weapons, and then put them on safe; to avoid a negligent discharge. I told Corporal Betts to keep the ‘Handy-Talkie’ radio he had been loaned off, until needed, to save the battery. I reviewed some of the basic hand and arm signals with the whole squad, and then had each jump up a couple of times to notice if any loose gear would fall off or make noise. We resolved any deficiencies, and then lined up by the door.
Before we exited, I said, “I am the most experienced at scouting, so I will lead. Walsh, Daniels, you will be on point with me. Coogan and Smith, you will follow fifty yards behind. You Signalmen stay twenty yards behind them. Next will be Bishop and Jenkins, you stay twenty yards behind the Signalmen. Betts and Kringle, you keep forty yards back, you will be our base of fire if we have to break contact. Corporal Lisle will bring up the rear.”
We left the barn, and I lead the squad to the road, and since there was no traffic, I had us cross over to the left side (north side) of the road. Though it appeared that the road had been metaled, perhaps a decade or more ago, it hadn’t been maintained in years. The road was covered in slushy mud, and since the vehicles were driving with only their blackout lights on; I had us keep at least ten yards away from the edge of the road, and if possible twenty-five yards away from the road. The fields on either side were a muddy mess, that had partially frozen. We had to step carefully to reduce the likelihood of slipping or falling.
Near the edge of town there was a machine-gun set up, manned by three men, and several other soldiers in hasty defensive positions. They didn’t say anything to us as we passed. They appeared to be sleepy, but their NCOs were checking on them; hopefully they would get a chance to sleep before our Regiment had to move out. Further on, about three hundred yards from the edge of town there was an line of outposts, and a checkpoint on the side of the road. They were bundled up, but still looked miserable.
On the Route between Werbomont and Chevron
0710 Hours, 19 December, 1944
About a half a mile east of Werbomont the open fields had reverted to woods, a bit sparse at first; most likely the locals gathered fallen limbs and brush to heat their homes. Stumps indicated that smaller trees had been chopped down too. It wasn’t long before the woods became dense forest. Terrain dictated that we walk only some ten yards from the edge of the road. It was still an hour before dawn, and the mists were thickening into fog. Fog often results in noises sounding different, as well as interfering with our vision. Wisps of fog lurking in the dank forest and empty road, when we might encounter a deadly enemy at any moment, produced an eerie ambiance.
Since we hadn’t got to the side road yet, I had not bothered to get out my compass; but I was keeping my pace-count, and figured we had walked about a mile. I had ordered Walsh and Corporal Lisle to keep a pace-count too. When I looked over my shoulder, it appeared that the rest of the patrol was maintaining their spacing, and they were alert, or at least looking around. Guys were still occasionally slipping, or tripping on the uneven ground. Up ahead I could hear the sounds of engines; deep rumbling engines, it seemed, such as heavy trucks ... or...
Tanks! I could hear the clanking and squeaking sounds of metal treads, like those used by tanks, and other mechanical noises. I made the hand signal to halt, and strained my eyes and ears. I couldn’t see anything. So, I gave the hand and arm signal for us to move back, and then to take cover. We got some twenty or thirty yards north of the road. I went back down the line, to the vicinity of the Signalmen who were carrying the SCR-300 radio. In the pre-dawn darkness of the forest, we should be nearly impossible for anyone in a vehicle to see.
Quietly I said, “Keep your weapons on safe! Nobody shoots without orders. Don’t move. Movement draws attention.”
Out of the tendrils of fog emerged a US Army jeep with the canvass roof up. The passengers appeared to be wrapped in blankets. The man in the front right seat seemed to be staring straight ahead, I didn’t notice him turning his head at all, the three men in back were huddled together, and I supposed they were dozing. A second jeep followed the first, then came an M-3 Half-track. Clanking and squeaking increased in volume, as the first of several fully-tracked M-4 ‘high-speed’ tractors; every other tractor was towing a large artillery piece; 155mm long-barreled guns; I figured.
Fourteen tractors, six of them towing cannons, and several with soldiers manning M-2.50 caliber machine-guns. There were also several more jeeps, half-tracks, and other vehicles. By my estimation they were traveling at 15 miles per hour. None of the vehicles had headlights on, just their blackout markers. There was no indication that any of them had noticed our patrol. For that matter, they might not have noticed a circus on the side of the road. I had us remain in place for five minutes after the last vehicle passed out of sight.
When I gave the hand and arm signal to move out, Private Jenkins said, “Hey, Sarge, whydon’tcha radio ‘bout all dem vee-cals headed to th’ bivouac?”
I said, “Those were American soldiers and vehicles. Our Mission is to recon the route Second Battalion with take. Besides, the Checkpoint will report on those vehicles in a couple of minutes. That is Their job. Also, a Sarge is some kinda bottom dwelling aquatic life. My rank is Sargent. Got it.”
Jenkins said, “okay ... uhh, what’s a. Quat. Tick?”
Without answering, I shook my head, and picked up my pace to get back in front. We were walking a bit slower, since I kept us walking amongst the trees some forty yards north of the road. We could still hear the rumble of the tracked vehicles; while they were receding, I was concerned their noise might obscure the noise of any trailing vehicles, and I didn’t want us to get shot at my any fatigued and trigger-happy fools. After five minutes, I had the patrol pause; I walked over to PFC Walsh, and had him quietly tell me his pace-count. It was nearly identical to mine.
About a hundred and fifty yards further on, we came to where the main road turned to the south and a side road branched off to the east. Scanning the area I didn’t see any likely threats. There were obvious tire-tracks on the muddy tertiary road, but there had not been nearly as much traffic as on the wider main road to Chevron. I signaled to Walsh and Daniels to continue going forward, staying on the left side of our new path; as they passed, I quietly told them to go fifty yards, and wait. Then I waved Coogan with his BAR, and Smith to cross the open ground, and occupy a position to the right of our new path.