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| The
story of Don Cox, member of the 2nd Infantry Division, 38th Inf. Rgt,
3rd Battalion, I Company, 3rd Platoon |
 Left a picture of
Don Cox together with Rolf Odendahl. I met up with Don and a part of
his family in 2005 in Wirtzfeld, and where he also met up with a German
veteran, Rolf Odendahl from the 3rd Fallschirmjäger Division. Two
former enemies, who shook hands after so many years after the Battle of
the Bulge. Also there was a Dutch Newspaper reporter with me, because
they wanted to have an article about the Ardennes in it. The header of
this Newspaper article opened (in Dutch ofcourse) that Don said:
"without his gun this German soldier is not so bad at all". And very
often when
Rolf Odendahl is coming to the Ardennes, he is bringing that part with
him.
Don, I promised you that your story would be added to either my book or
homepage, but adding it to my homepage, I think that many people will
read it and learn from it, and I honor you this way, and still miss
you, my friend.
Hans
Battle of the Bulge
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Pfc Don C. Cox, 3rd Platoon, I Company, 3rd Battalion, 38th
Infantry Regiment, 2nd Infantry Division.
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We were in the woods, dug in near the Wahlerscheid
Crossroads (in book 2 'Holding
the Line, you will find in detail the actions at this battle fought
between 13 and 16 December 1944). At approximately 0400 hours
they woke us up saying we had to go
back to the twin cities, Rocherath and Krinkelt, that a couple of
German tanks
and some infantry had broken through the line and they needed help.
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After daylight we started the march back. It was cold,
foggy, and dreary, with some broken clouds. Airplanes were dog
fighting, empty .50
caliber cartridges were falling. We arrived in Rocherath/Krinkelt about
1500-1600
hours. We stopped in Krinkelt where we were told that part of the 9th Infantry was pinned down, cut-off and needed
help.
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3rd Platoon leader,
Lt. Devlin, formed a patrol which I was a part of, and we started down
a road
going out of Krinkelt. I was 1st Scout, and as I went down the road and
around
a curve I came face to face with a German tank and German infantry. The
tank
fired over our heads. I hit the ditch first, then I got up and ran
about three
blocks back into town and got behind a building.
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It was getting close to dusk by then. I stepped out from
behind the building and thought I saw a GI; I yelled at him to take
cover
because the Germans were out there. He fired at me and missed; one of
our men
shot him.
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We made our way across the street to the church. There was a
Sherman
tank at
the corner of the church building. I told the driver if he would pull
his tank
up to the corner and fire down the road he could get a German tank. He
says,
"Are they that close?" then started up his tank, pulling out to the
side of the church; the German tank knocked out the Sherman tank.
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I then made my way up along the side of the church going
inside through a side door. There were several GIs inside. I stayed in
the
church till morning, and during the night the artillery was hitting the
building. I took cover in one of the pews near a large column in the
center of
the church. During the night someone asked, “What are we going to do?”
I told
him, “Looks like a good place to pray.” Some of us went to the alter
and prayed
very seriously.
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The next morning a lieutenant told us it looked like we were
behind the German lines and we would need to go out under the white
flag, and
to take nothing with us especially souvenirs. So I put my letters,
pictures,
field pack rifle, ammunition and everything I had except my dog tags in
a pile
next to the column.
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I walked to the front double door and peeked out. I saw an
American first lieutenant (I noticed his silver bar on his helmet)
stick his
head out around a corner of a building. I yelled back to everyone that
I saw a
GI outside. I gathered all my things and ran out the door. I didn’t
really know
where I was, but about three blocks from there I found our company CP.
It is
impossible to explain the destruction of the buildings; they had
knocked out
tanks, trucks, jeeps and all were tangled together--tanks on top of
trucks and
jeeps and dead soldiers.
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After two or three hours Lt. Devlin said we had to go on
patrol to see what was happening to the south of us. Our mission was to
find
out where the Germans were. We went out in an open field that
over-looked a valley
and a village. It appeared the Germans had captured a lot of the 99th
Division
soldiers and equipment.
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It wasn’t long until a German soldier came up the hill and
told us to put our hands on our head. We kept walking toward him; I
dropped my
rifle and ran to him. I grabbed his rifle and pistol before he could
use them
on us. He apparently thought we wanted to surrender. His name was
printed in
red ink inside his pistol holster. His name was SS 1st Lt.
Walter S. Calmut; we took him back to the company.
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We were sent out again to make contact with the enemy. We
were almost in the same spot when an individual come running up the
hill and
was dressed only from the waist down, yelling ‘don’t shoot I am a GI’.
He said
the Germans had sent him to tell us if we didn’t release the lieutenant
they
would kill all the American prisoners. He had no dog tags so I asked
him where
his home was in the states. He said Muskogee, Oklahoma.
Since I was from Arkansas I knew the
location of Muskogee.
I asked what large town in Arkansas
was closest to Muskogee,
Oklahoma his answer
was Ft. Smith,
which was correct. We turned him over to the company commander; we did
not
release the lieutenant.
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Approximately 1500 hours, eight of us went back to the area
between the water tower and the church to stay in a house at the edge
of town.
We had a good view of the road to the north which was the one we came
into town
from the north and with an open field to our east.
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Late afternoon on 18 December just before dark we could see
German tanks moving in the field and up the road. They would get in
front of a
house and fire a round or two through the house. It was dark when they
got to
the house we were in, it was on a corner. The lead tank stopped right
in front
and moved the gun barrel around pointing it in the window where I was
lying on
the floor. I didn’t pray this time because I had asked God to see me
through
the war the night before, so I could get home to my baby daughter whom
I had
never seen.
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A few minutes later he moved the tank around to the side of
the house and stopped again. By this time the yard was full of German
infantry
and more tanks were coming down the road. They took a smoke break for
about one
half hour; we never moved. We could have got several of the infantry,
but it
would have been our sudden death with all the tanks. They moved on, and
we
stayed in the house that night. They came back during the night, and we
let
them pass again as there were only eight of us.
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The next morning, 19 December, we found a house with a
basement. About 1600 hours in the afternoon, T/Sgt. L.C. Furrh came to
the
house and told us we were pulling out around 1930 hours and to be
ready. We
waited and waited, but he never showed up. The outside was lit up with
tanks and
houses burning. One of our tanks was knocked out in the front yard and
was on
fire; the occupants did not make it out. One of our men was killed
trying to
help them. There was no front line. The Americans and Germans were
mixed
together making the front line whichever direction you were facing.
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About 1930 hours we decided that Sgt. Furrh could not get to
us to lead us out, so we decided to try and find our way out. We went
out the
front door, one at a time, and then across the back yard to a road. We
were
trying to go in the direction of our company command post, but before
we got there
we found the withdraw column going down the road to Wirtzfeld. The road
was not
wide enough for foot troops and equipment to move at the same time. It
seemed
like a constant barrage of enemy artillery hitting all around us.
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We were going around a curve in the road to Wirtzfeld when I
heard an artillery round coming in real close. It hit the muddy road
just to
the front and right of me, splashing mud on me, but did not explode. A
second
or two later another round came in and hit beside me, to my rear, and
exploded.
I remember falling face down but do not remember hitting the ground.
The next
thing I remember is crawling in the front door of a house with a lot of
people
in the hallway; I didn’t know if they were Americans or Germans.
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I was asked if I could operate a 300 set radio, I answered
‘no’, then went back out the door. I could see the equipment was
moving; I was
sick to my stomach, and the right side of my back was burning and
stinging. My
clothes were torn where the shrapnel had hit me. I was standing by the
road
waiting for our turn to move, when a jeep with a trailer came along
moving real
slow. I thought if I could get on that trailer I would be okay. Two
other GIs
were already on it and helped me on. I stayed with it until we stopped
in a
small village. We found a building and went inside, we used a cigarette
lighter
for the GIs to check my back, and it was red but no blood.
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We stayed there that night, and next morning I found a jeep
driver and asked if he knew where my outfit was. He told me yes and
that he was
going there then. I rode to Elsenborn Ridge with him. I had no blanket,
no
overcoat, no over shoes, no weapon except the P35 pistol I had taken
from the
SS lieutenant. I think there was only about thirteen in my platoon when
I got
there, but more came in later.
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Someone from headquarters came around everyday to ask if we
knew anything about the missing. It was about two weeks before I
remembered one
of my buddies named Sills was right in front of me when the artillery
round
went off. I remembered him falling over backwards in front of me when I
was
going down, but do not remember him hitting the ground. David B. Sills
and
Clayton B. Starritt from my squad were both killed in action on 19
December 1944.
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We dug two-man foxholes so one man in each foxhole was on
guard all the time, two hours on and two hours off. We covered the
foxholes
with whatever we could find. The snow on the ridge was deep, and it was
extremely cold.
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One night we started out on patrol when the sergeant told me
that if I made it back that night, I would be assistant squad leader
the next
day. We made it back okay. I was later promoted to squad leader and
then to platoon
sergeant of the 3rd Platoon of I Company.
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