WhatFinger


Memories of World War II

A Day in April 1945 – North to Groningen



The largest city in eastern Holland and the farthest north is the city of Groningen. My previous tale of the Kangaroo and the Badger occurred while on the way to liberate that city. The actual liberation of Groningen occurred a few days later and was the end of our drive and our Regiment’s fighting in Holland. My story of that liberation will be told later because it produced quite a few more adventures before the fighting ended.

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Other than our Captain, our driver and two signalers were Privates (or in artillery language, Gunners) the lowest rank in the army. We therefore had few opportunities to find out where we were going during the fighting. It wasn’t until we got there that we would find out where we were. Our officers usually read the maps and we followed orders. I kept a small wallet sized diary of dates and places all through my time in Europe but unfortunately lost it in England after the war so I can’t always be sure of the sequence of events. I hope you find them of interest regardless of order. Our experiences over even a single 24-hour period could be extreme. So in this episode I will tell you what happened as we fought skirmishes, encountered our joyous Dutch hosts, took enemy prisoners, liberated towns and villages, burned down houses, came under enemy fire and generally kept moving as fast as conditions and the Germans allowed during just one single day.

The Day begins

This day began at 5 AM and within the hour our column was underway. Our two Sherman tanks and infantry, the Essex Scottish (on foot) took the lead. Our first attack through a village (unknown name) began about 7AM. Our artillery and infantry opened the attack by firing on the village and setting the roofs afire. This forced the Germans to abandon their defensive positions inside the houses. imageSoon we were chasing the Germans from house to house, wall to wall and ditch to ditch, gradually harrying them out of the village. I took the photo on the left as we started to move through. Note the red cross on the helmet of the medic following along at the end of the infantry column – and that he carries no weapons. The thatched roofs of the houses are burning and many have already caved in. The haze seen is the smoke from the fires crossing the road ahead. The first infantryman ahead of the medic carries a PIAT * anti-tank weapon over his right shoulder and shovel pushed through his web strapping on his left, (the wooden handle). His buddy ahead carries the projectiles for the PIAT in the tubes over his left shoulder and his shovel. The rectangular white patch under the netting on his helmet is a large emergency wound bandage, carried by all of us. (Note: my photos on Blanco’s Blog can be enlarged for closer detail by clicking on them). Things were going well. Suddenly, minutes after this photo was taken, there was an explosion up ahead and smoke poured out of the lead tank just in front of the tank you see in the photo. We heard yelling and several heavy bursts of 30 calibre Browning machine gun fire from one of the tanks plus other infantry rifle fire. The tank had been hit by a German anti-tank Panzerfaust** projectile. We were delayed for 20 minutes while the survivors of the stricken tank were pulled to safety, the wounded treated and the tank pulled aside. We soon heard that the projectile had killed several of the tank crew and wounded another and that the German who fired the missile had then run out with his hands up to surrender. The machine guns we heard had mowed him down. When we finally drove forward again our Bren Gun Carrier swerved around the body of the German soldier that had fired the fatal Panzerfaust. You may have heard of a man being cut in two by a machine gun, well this was such a case. I looked down on his battered remains. His head and upper torso were face down on the road and his uniform twisted around what was left of his waist. His lower body and legs were splayed V shaped on the road facing the sky; the legs crushed by a tank that had run over them. As far as I was concerned it was an example of perfect justice. If the man wanted to live, all he had to do was not fire his weapon, stand up slowly near any of our soldiers, hands in the air and he would have lived. It was a case of very bad judgment. When we finally exited the town we came to a creek running about 50 yards away from the left side of the road with a meadow in between and some grassy mounds and wooded areas on the other side of the creek. A lot of firing at our column started up from the enemy dug in on the creek banks and along the edges of the woods. Every Bren and rifle plus our remaining tank opened up on the Enemy. Unfortunately, most of the casualties appeared to be a herd of the cows munching peacefully on the grassy meadow by the creek. Thank goodness the Krauts weren’t using any heavy weapons because we were perfect targets sitting up on the road.

A German prisoner’s last possession and another’s bad attitude

Soon the enemy began to surrender. They were quickly disarmed and sent back down the road. We moved forward once again. For some reason our remaining tank and several Companies of the Essex got about a half mile ahead of us and ran into another bout of resistance. It took a lot longer to dislodge this enemy this time. As I recall we had to use our artillery to drive them out. I was sitting in the carrier relaxing, as the captured groups came down the road from a half mile ahead. As was the custom, after being disarmed, all their valuables were taken from them by the infantry; watches, money, rings etc. (prizes of war) illegal but overlooked. Most prisoners were just happy to be safe and out of the war. I wasn’t paying much heed because they were well stripped of any goodies before they got to us. Then a Wehrmacht soldier noticed me and trotted over with a big smile while removing a ring from his finger. He reached over the side of the carrier and insisted laughingly that I take it even though I said “nein, nein it’s OK“, shaking my head that I did not want it. He insisted saying, “OK das ist gut, haben sie bitte, das ist die leste!” (OK that is good, please take it, it is the last thing I have), inferring he had been looted of everything else. So I took it, thanked him and still have it as a souvenir. Not long after we were moving again and another group of about 12 prisoners came down the road followed by a single Essex soldier armed with a rifle. I was busy on the radio and looked away for a moment when I glimpsed something coming at me out of the corner of my eye, I ducked. It was the fist of one of the prisoners who just missed my face but caught the edge of my helmet and knocked it to the back of my head. As fast as lightening the guard rammed the butt of his rifle into the prisoner’s back knocking him to the ground. He then dragged him halfway to his feet and put his boot to his backside flattening him again. Next he ordered another prisoner to help the injured man to his feet and off they went limping down the road. This group of prisoners were Waffen SS; all very tough young Nazi-indoctrinated soldiers. That is why they were under guard and was a good example of the difference in attitude between the ordinary conscripted German Wehrmacht soldier and the Nazi Waffen SS.

A Memorable Lesson

We were moving quite fast for a time but around 1:00 PM stopped on the road for lunch. While stopped we saw another column of soldiers moving north along a parallel road about three quarters of a mile to the east. We thought we were the most easterly column of the Canadians moving north and while we wanted to open fire on what must be the enemy we couldn’t be sure, so we held our fire. We knew the British were somewhere northeast but actually they were at that time moving north in Germany. Finally, through our binoculars, I spotted the silhouette of one of the soldiers carrying a Panzerfaust over his shoulder (easily recognizable by its shape). I told Sergeant Major Dixon of the Essex; he confirmed the sighting and quickly informed his Colonel. Soon our entire column was blasting away at the enemy with every gun we had. The enemy quickly went to ground. We cautiously resumed lunch but kept our weapons at hand. A few Kraut soldiers, probably scouts, crept about halfway across the fields towards us and stood up. I joined in trying to drop one of them at about 1000 yards with my standard issue rifle (no sniper telescopic sights). He went down but who knows if he was hit. Our column resumed its travel north About an hour later we stopped again because of mines in the road. We noticed the body of a German lying about 15 yards away in a ditch running towards our road. Three of us were asked go over to make sure he wasn’t just wounded and also to look for maps, papers or other valuable intelligence. As we stood next to the edge of the ditch directly above the German’s body (I was unarmed) he suddenly rolled over and pointed a Schmeisser sub-machine gun at my chest. I thought I was a dead man. Instead, he dropped his gun, rose slowly and put his hands in the air; he was a Sergeant Major. Another German, a corporal rose from the ditch about 5 yards away and he too surrendered. These men had crawled from the enemy column to as close to us as possible before surrendering to avoid being shot either by their own troops or ours. I helped search the Segeant Major and still have one of his shoulder straps with his three stars of his rank as a souvenir. He was taken into custody by one of our officers and turned over to the Military Police at the next town we liberated. I had learned to have my weapon ready when approaching a “dead” enemy. imageThat next town turned out to be Hoogeveen and although we helped liberate it, our artillery vehicles stayed outside the town because we couldn’t stop the momentum of our drive north. It was now about 6:00 PM and the picture at the left shows our Battery Major’s armored car command vehicle parked in a field just off the road with some of the local townsmen and kids around us. One of the youngsters in the photo gave me a small badge showing Queen Wilhelmina of Holland with the Dutch ribbon of orange attached. I have it nearby as I write. We left Hoogeveen about two hours later after gassing up our carrier, charging our radio batteries and performing other maintenance tasks. Later after passing the bulk of our infantry and tanks we pulled into a farmyard. We found a clean and dry haystack and dug ourselves into the side, made tea, cooked up a couple of tins of M & V rations (Meat & Vegetables), had a relaxing smoke, then dropped on our bedrolls and fell fast asleep.

My First Attack on Foot

About 12:00 Midnight I was roused by our Captain as was Bob Lowe my signaler buddy. We were told to get ready to leave on an attack at 3:00 AM in the morning. We would be going on foot with the infantry. Bob was to carry the radio and follow our Captain and I was to carry the Bren gun to protect both. I was pretty excited. I had never before participated in an infantry attack on foot. So after I cleaned my Bren gun and loaded its 4 spare magazines (all my web pouches could hold) to their maximum of 28 rounds each I decided it would be a good idea to find an experienced Essex infantryman and ask him how to handle the situation. I sure didn’t want to make a stupid mistake or cost the infantry any unnecessary grief. So I went to the nearest Essex guy I could find and asked him, “Tell me, who is the most experienced soldier in your outfit because I would like to talk to him for a couple of minutes? “No problem he replied, see that little guy over there with the sergeant’s stripes, that’s Shorty Heintzman; he’s been with us since we landed in France.” I thanked him and made a beeline for the Sergeant because I knew the Regiment had turned over three or four times as a result of their killed and wounded. I figured if anyone could give me good advice on survival he would be my man. I was right. I introduced myself to Sergeant Heintzman and explained why I wanted his help. First he said, “Call me Shorty because everybody else does and it’s quicker.” He was aptly nicknamed because he stood about 5 foot 2 inches tall. After we chatted a little further and I explained what I had to do (defend our FOO team***) and my background in weapons training, he said, “No problem Dick, you stick close to me and you’ll be fine.” At three in the morning we assembled. We were told the attack was scheduled to kick off at 5:00 AM and we would have a 4-mile hike in single file to the start line. Silence was required on the march and where there were white tapes we were to stay between them because they marked a path cleared through minefields by our engineers. The moon was up and the night was clear so where possible we were told to stick to the shadows. All in all it made the pulse speed up a little. The Essex’s scouts acting as guides were in the lead. Our Captain was ahead with the Colonel of the Essex, followed by Bob then Shorty and me, and then followed by the rest of the infantry. We crossed a road, leaped over a ditch and a shadow in the dark quietly whispered “wire.” One by one we crossed over a fence held down by a soldier. We came to a river and began to follow it. An enemy machine gun opened up not that far away and I started to duck for the cover of the river bank. Shorty grabbed my shoulder and quietly said, “Don’t worry; they’re not shooting at us.” About 10 minutes later another machine gun opened up and I didn’t move; Shorty grabbed me and we both jumped for cover fast as well as some others. Shorty said, “They are shooting in our direction.” I was a bit embarrassed because I now recognized the difference in sounds because when a rifle or machine gun is fired at you it sounds like firecrackers rather than a distant gunshot. I had recalled the sound from my days on the rifle range working in the Butts where we lowered targets, patched and raised them again for the men at firing practice. The bullets had passed directly overhead. A lesson relearned. After about an hour we passed over a roadway marked with white tape, the word “mines” was whispered back. I would have walked over but Shorty whispered, “Crawl on your belly.” and we did, slithering across like snakes in the moonlight. I was pleased we did because it distributed our weight and two days later we passed the same crossroad and there on the side of the road were eighteen mines that had been dug out. A lesson learned. Finally we arrived at our start line. It was a field of thigh high grass with a 20 foot high railway embankment running north south on the east side of the field. The railway ran into the town of Assen that turned out to be our objective. The Germans were on the other side of the embankment and we could hear them talking. It was about 4:30 in the morning now and we had half an hour to wait for the attack to begin. The plan was for our artillery to heavily shell the Krauts on the other side (west) of the tracks while we attacked up the east side and the artillery would follow our attack all the way suppressing the Germans as we ran into the town. We all lay down in the tall grass to silently wait for the barrage to begin. After about 10 minutes I felt a tug on my arm and Shorty beckoned me to follow him. We crawled about 30 yards away from the rest of the men and I whispered; “What’s up?” Don’t you hear he asked?” “No I said, what’s wrong?” He whispered, “The men are falling asleep and beginning to snore and if the Krauts hear them, there will be trouble.” He was right. It had been a long 22 ½ hour day and the story is not over yet. Watch for the next episode; Shorty’s smart moves and the attack and Liberation of Assen. * For details of the PIAT: ** To see terrific videos of Panzerfaust in action: *** FOO means Forward Observation Officer. He (our Captain) directs the fire of our guns onto the target. We are part of his team, driver and signalers.


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Dick Field -- Bio and Archives

Dick Field, editor of Blanco’s Blog, is the former editor of the Voice of Canadian Committees and the Montgomery Tavern Society, Dick Field is a World War II veteran, who served in combat with the Royal Canadian Artillery, Second Division, 4th Field Regiment in Belgium, Holland and Germany as a 19-year-old gunner and forward observation signaller working with the infantry. Field also spent six months in the occupation army in Northern Germany and after the war became a commissioned officer in the Armoured Corps, spending a further six years in the Reserves.

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