Chapter 43: Jun 1944 Americans Liberate Cherbourg, France

“Maybe there are 5,000, maybe 10,000 Nazi bastards in their concrete foxholes before the Third Army. Now if Ike stops holding Monty’s hand and gives me some supplies, I’ll go through the Siegfried Line like shit through a goose.”

During those long months of pre-operational training, the allies were convinced that they would have to take a major port close to the Normandy beaches in order to bring in the fresh reinforcements and supplies desperately needed for a sustained second front in Europe. The war planners were mistaken about the ability of the Normandy beaches to act as a funnel for the follow-on equipment required for a successful breakout from the beach areas.

Cherbourg was situated close to the southern flank of the Normandy beaches and it was a viable major port for just such a role in the assault. The German defenses in that area were hindered in their defense by the crazy orders coming daily from the Fuhrer to extend their defensive lines far inland making it difficult for the commander to recall his troops for the heated defense of the city and the main port.

Most of the rear-area troops were not the crack SS warriors that had fought on the Eastern Front or had returned from a disastrous campaign in North Africa. The German commanding general reported to Berlin that almost one quarter of his available men were either Polish or Russian soldiers recruited to fill the ranks of the Wehrmacht. There was little doubt about the lack of loyalty to the Thousand Year Reich by these Waffen SS troops.

Despite this major drawback, the German commander did his best to defend the port and put up a stiff resistance in the Arsenal and fortified structures. Even after the commander was captured, he would not give the order to his troops to surrender and they resisted for another week.

The high command in Berlin was dismayed at the rapidity with which the port fell to the allies and they did their best to destroy as much of the port as possible before the allies assumed control. There was extensive damage done to the port facilities and it was indeed fortunate that the Normandy beaches were able to handle a lot more traffic than the war planners in Whitehall had envisioned for the flow of supplies to the beachhead.

The allies did their best to limit their firepower away from the civilian populace in order to keep collateral damage down as low as possible. The local French people saw this restraint and they gave up information to assist the Americans as much as they could in those desperate days immediately after the landing.

It took almost two months to bring the port back up to maximum capacity to accept shipments and bring them to the railheads for transport to the fast expanding front.

The numbers of German detainees as prisoners of war far exceeded 200,000 and it was necessary for the allies to construct holding areas for the prisoners and conduct interrogations to aid in the development of order of battle charts for the entire European defensive posture. Most of the German prisoners were relieved to be taken prisoner by either the British or the Americans because they would be assured of proper treatment under the rules of the Geneva Convention and they knew they would be soon sent to a rear area and out of the danger zone for combat operations.

Of course, the alternative of capture by the Soviet forces would mean decades of forced labor and with a slim chance of survival and return to the fatherland after the war was finally over.

The allies were considering assaults on other ports along the Brittany coastline but after their experience with Cherbourg, they decided to merely isolate them and keep them contained and they all eventually surrendered to the allies without resistance.

The combination of the Normandy beaches and the repaired port of Cherbourg was sufficient to resupply the troops as they fought their way to the German border and the eventual end of the war in Europe.

We hustled our way back to the Calais area hoping that the Germans and the French militia were too concerned with the possibility of the invasion turning up on their doorstep as well. Most of the checkpoints just waved us through without even checking our papers.

My plan called for me to join the Patton wedge as he fought his way through the bureaucracy to get the petrol and the ammo that he needed to cut his way deep into German held territory. I knew I had to get Dolly and the two British airmen out of France and safely back in England so I called in a debt of honor with some of the coastal clinging sailors from Marseilles to carry them across the channel and drop them off in safe waters. I had grown attached to the French folks from Marseilles during my sojourn there and I remembered visiting it in the future century amazed at the numbers of youth that had no inkling at all about the struggle to just remain alive in a wartime environment.

I hoped that both Roger and Dennis would get some down time back home before having to join the fray again to kick Hitler’s ass and put an end to the death and destruction in Europe.

I found that I would have to drive the truck back into Calais by myself after shedding the responsibility for my entourage at the quay near the fish factory that employed some of the oldest specimens of French civilian populace I had seen in quite some time. That got me to thinking about my quirk of regressing biologically after I returned from each journey into the past and I wondered if at some time I would be hit with the sum total of those lost years and turn into an aging man like “Dorian Grey” looking into the mirror of time.

Right then no less than three rounds sliced through the side window on the passenger side and burrowed their way into the soft upholstery of the front seat beside me. I was already at or near to the maximum speed the old truck could do without burning up the ancient engine. I turned into the dirt road on the left as the bullets came mostly from my front and I expected I needed to avoid the road in front because that was where the danger actually came from.

The dirt road was drivable but in dire need of repair.

I managed to avoid the largest of the pot-holes and made my way up a circular uphill area that opened up into an unsuspected farm and mansion of the type found there before the last war. There was no wall or high gate to interrupt my entry but I did see several shadowy figures watching me carefully from partially hidden places like guard dogs on call to be used if needed. The old truck was sputtering like crazy from the uphill climb and I sensed the poor thing was on its last legs and would soon be retired turning to rust behind the coffee shop in Calais along with a couple of other antiques from World War I.