Christmas in Bastogne

After landing troops on the beaches of Normandy on June 6, 1944, the American, British, and Canadian Allies pushed east toward their objective: the German heartland. By November, the advance had slowed to a crawl due to German resistance and the logistics of supporting the Allies’ battle line, which extended north and south from Holland to Switzerland for 100 miles.

While the Germans were fighting the Russians on a broad front in the east, they possessed an advantage on the western front in the winter of 1944 – they were no longer defending all of Western Europe. Their front lines in the west had considerably shortened and were much closer to the German heartland. As the German army fell back, their logistics grew less complex, despite the fact that the Allies controlled the air. Additionally, their extensive homeland telephone and telegraph network meant that radios were less needed for communications, which reduced the volume of ULTRA intercepts –.the Allies access to German coded radio traffic.

Notwithstanding the imbalance in fighting strength – the Allies had 96 divisions at or near the front while the Germans had 55 – after a September briefing on the status of the western front, Hitler decided that Germany would launch an ambitious winter counteroffensive in the Ardennes – the vast Belgian forest that separated the American and German lines. It was so dense that a person could easily become lost and vehicles could not operate in it. This forced traffic onto the few roads that traversed the Ardennes, making them and the villages through which roads ran strategic objectives in Hitler’s counteroffensive. Therefore, anyone who could read a map quickly recognized the strategic importance of two Belgian towns currently in the hands of the Americans. St. Vith, which sat at the intersection of six roads, and Bastogne, at the intersection of eight roads.

The offensive would crash through the Ardennes, as was done in 1940 when the German army surprised and defeated France in days. In 1940, however, German troops had passed through the Ardennes in three days before engaging the enemy, but the 1944 plan called for a battle in the forest. The coup de main was to advance westward to the Meuse River, then turn northwest for Antwerp and Brussels. The close terrain of the Ardennes would make rapid movement difficult, though open ground beyond the Meuse offered the prospect of a successful dash to the coast.

For the offensive to be successful, four criteria were critical: (i) the attack had to be a complete surprise; (ii) the weather conditions had to be poor to neutralize Allied air superiority and the damage it could inflict on the German offensive and its supply lines; (iii) the progress had to be rapid – the Meuse River, halfway to Antwerp, had to be reached by D +4; and (iv) allied fuel supplies would have to be captured intact along the way because the Wehrmacht was short on fuel. The German General Staff estimated they only had enough fuel to cover one-third to one-half of the ground to Antwerp in heavy combat conditions.

Hitler laid out a plan to attack the Allied lines in Belgium with 38 divisions. Despite major misgivings from his senior commanders, Hitler would not yield on his plan and the jump-off date was set at December 16, 1944. It would be an unexpected stroke against the Allies.

Allied commanders considered the Ardennes area to be unsuitable for a large-scale German attack because of its almost impenetrable terrain, and certainly no surprise attack through this hostile region was thought likely given the current horrendous weather conditions – rain, snow, sleet and ice – which would later prove to be the worst weather in recorded history. Moreover, none of the ULTRA intelligence reports suggested that combat-ready German divisions were stationed in the area; only those in need of rest and refitting were believed to be facing the Ardennes. What little intelligence they had led the Allies to believe precisely what the Germans wanted them to believe – that the German preparations being carried out were only for defensive, not offensive operations. Bastogne, therefore, was only defended by a US Army division that had seen continuous fighting almost since D-Day and was assigned to this sector of the battle line because it was unlikely to see action. Mixed in were various other units whose troops and officers had seen no combat thus far in the war.

At 5:30 a.m. on Saturday, December 16, 1944, the Germans began the assault with a massive, 90-minute artillery barrage using 1,600 artillery pieces across an 80 miles front on the Allied troops facing the Sixth SS Panzer Army. History would remember this as the Battle of the Bulge. The temperature in Bastogne on that day was 14 degrees Fahrenheit. Poorly equipped American forces would suffer greatly while German forces, drawing on years of experience of fighting the Russians, were equipped with warm and practical clothing.

Heavy snowstorms engulfed parts of the Ardennes area. While having the desired effect of keeping the Allied aircraft grounded, the weather also proved nettlesome for the Germans because poor road conditions hampered their advance. Ineffective traffic management and snow drifts several feet deep led to massive traffic jams, and fuel shortages plagued the forward German units.

American soldiers found their rifles jammed constantly in the frozen air. They had to urinate on them to free their mechanisms. A biting wind sliced through their wet uniforms. Many suffered frostbite. A heavy fog hung over much of the Ardennes region. Tanks moved at a crawl and half-tracks ground to a halt in the thick mud. On that December in 1944 American combat troops were not dreaming of a white Christmas; they got the real thing and hated it.

Eisenhower and his principal commanders quickly realized that the ferocity of the German attack signaled a major offensive, not a local counterattack, so they ordered vast reinforcements into the breakout area. Within a week, 250,000 Allied troops streamed to the front. Eisenhower personally ordered the 101st to the Bastogne crossroads with instructions to hold at all cost. Advance elements of the 101st rushed to Bastogne and began entering the town in trucks on the morning of the 19th. Hitler’s troops would have to dislodge them or face a counterattack and a likely defeat. Still, the early prospects were daunting for the Americans.

In 1944 Bastogne was a market town located on a 1,600-foot plateau overlooking the surrounding Ardennes. Its wartime population was a bit over 4,000 – dwarfed by the 10,000 American soldiers now deployed in the village and the several surrounding outposts in nearby hamlets. Major General Troy Middleton was the VIII Corps commander in charge of the battle sector that included Bastogne. “Now don’t get yourself surrounded,” Middleton had warned Brigadier General Anthony McAuliffe, the acting commander of the 101st.

On the Saturday of the German breakout, things were normal in Bastogne – the shops and markets were open on the Grand Rue and they were doing a bustling business. The next day, Sunday, refugees began streaming in from the east indicating that something unusual was afoot. Around noon, the electricity went out all over town – not an unusual occurrence for the town. But on the morning of the third day, Monday December 18th, artillery could be heard off in the eastern distance and American stragglers began entering the town. By midday, civilians were leaving, pushing carts heaped high with possessions. Those who stayed moved into their cellars for safety from the bombardment they expected would come. One of those who stayed was Renée Lemaire, a beautiful 30-year old with blue eyes and a cascade of brown hair. Renée had trained for four years at a hospital in Brussels to become a nurse. She would be invaluable in the days ahead.

On the evening of Tuesday, December 19, German reconnaissance units began colliding with the American outposts surrounding Bastogne. Furious fire fights broke out but the outposts, supported by other units of the 101st in Bastogne, continued to hold, forcing the Panzer columns to swing past them on the north and south, and move around to the west. The Germans succeeded in closing a ring of steel around Bastogne on Wednesday the 20th, completely cutting off the town from the American battle line.

Over the next several days the Germans threw everything they could at the American pocket of resistance, hoping to puncture it. On December 21 the German unit Kampfgruppe Kunkel launched a fierce assault against an outpost in a hamlet west of Bastogne but was repulsed. The Germans tried again four times on the following day, Friday the 22nd, to no avail. Withstanding similar attacks on outposts south of town, the 101st held, supported by the 9th and 10th Armored Divisions that barely made it into Bastogne before it was surrounded. Attacks on the village caused its situation to deteriorate quickly as ammunition dwindled, gasoline ran low, and medical supplies ran out. Food was scarce, and by December 22 artillery ammunition had to be restricted to 10 rounds per gun per day. Temperatures fell below zero, and overcast skies prevented supplies from being dropped into the city and prevented fighters from attacking German positions. But morale remained high, and the perimeter around Bastogne still held.

By nightfall on the 22nd, the rough outline of a fighting perimeter had formed, and Bastogne became a “hole in the doughnut” as one officer called it. All aid stations had been converted to hospitals since evacuation of the wounded was impossible. Exhausted army surgeons shook their heads in frustration as men died who would otherwise have been saved with better care and facilities. Renée Lemaire pitched in to help as a nurse, caring for over a hundred patients, many of whom had no beds and lay on blankets on the floor.

The Germans had clearly underestimated the American resolve. Around noon on the 22nd, therefore, two German officers and two enlisted men walked up a snow-covered road under a white flag of truce to an astonished Army check point. The Germans carried an ultimatum from their commander in the sector, General von Luttwitz. It insisted that there “was only one possibility to save the encircled American troops from total annihilation: that is, the honorable surrender of the encircled town.” It gave their commander two hours to consent or German guns would “annihilate” the US forces and level Bastogne.

An American officer delivered the note to General McAuliffe and his chief of staff, Lieutenant Colonel Ned Moore, who read it out loud. McAuliffe’s first reaction was to utter, in sheer disgust, “Aw, nuts.” After discussing the situation with his staff, everyone agreed that McAuliffe’s initial outburst was the ideal response to the German demand, and the general wrote out a formal reply. In words that have since become legendary. The note said, “To the German Commander: NUTS! From the American Commander.”

A regimental commander visiting McAuliffe’s headquarters, Lieutenant Colonel Harper, insisted on taking the reply personally to the Germans. Even though the German Lieutenant representing General von Luttwitz had spent years in the import business and spoke fluent English, he could only translate the reply literally to the other officer in the party. “Nuts” perplexed both. “Is the reply negative or affirmative?” the Lieutenant politely asked. LTC Harper, trenchantly translated the colloquialism for the Germans: in plain English. “The reply is decidedly not affirmative, and if you continue this foolish attack, your losses will be tremendous.”

"If you don’t understand what ‘Nuts’ means,” continued Harper, “it is the same as ‘Go to Hell!’ and I will tell you something else; if you continue to attack, we will kill every goddamned German that tries to break into this city.” The German officers snapped to attention, saluted, and said, “We will kill many Americans. This is war.”

“On your way, Bud,” snorted Harper.

Over the next several days in the face of unrelenting German assaults, the Americans held on often by their frostbitten finger tips. But the sky cleared on December 24, allowing air drops of ammunition, food and medical equipment. Christmas in Bastogne had arrived a day early in the form of more than 150 American cargo planes that flew the drop missions, dipping and diving to evade anti-aircraft fire from the German batteries, with several crash-landing inside the American zone.

General McAuliffe’s message to his troops on Christmas Eve is recorded in many accounts of the battle:

“What’s merry about all this, you ask? Just this: We have stopped cold everything that has been thrown at us from the North, East, South and West. We have identifications from four German Panzer divisions and one German parachute division. The Germans surround us, their radios blare our doom. Their commander demanded our surrender, and received the following reply…‘NUTS!’ We are giving our country and our loved ones at home a worthy Christmas present, and, being privileged to take part in this gallant feat of arms, are truly making for ourselves a Merry Christmas.”

The men at the front were not as upbeat as McAuliffe. They had cold white beans for their Christmas Eve dinner. Captain Dick Winters, who became somewhat famous as a result of the Band of Brothers television series, remembered that “dinner that night consisted of five white beans and a cup of cold broth.” Out on icy line, Sergeant Robert Rader and Private Don Hoobler, both from the same town in the Midwest, sat in their frigid foxholes. Rader said, “As the night wore on we talked of our homes, our families, and how they were spending their Christmas Eve. Hoobler felt sure all of them were in church praying for us.” They probably were, and that was a good thing. The Luftwaffe viciously bombed Bastogne that night, causing extensive damage and killing numerous civilians and American soldiers. A German bomb fell through the roof of an aid station and exploded inside killing 30 people. One of them was Renée Lemaire.

There was no let up on Christmas Day. Hitler had demanded that the town be taken immediately. The Germans let loose several armored attacks against the Bastogne pocket. Once again they were driven back, with heavy losses. Inside the town some soldiers attended religious services. Others tended to the wounded, or buried the dead. Most were outside, holding the perimeter.

On December 19, Eisenhower had met with his key commanders in Verdun. Knowing the plight of the 101st in Bastogne, he asked if anyone could get up there and relieve them. Patton said he could attack with three divisions. “When can you start?” Ike asked. “In 36 hours,” Patton replied.

Christmas in Bastogne arrived on December 26, when an armored column from Patton’s 3rd Army pierced the German cordon around the city. The next day it rolled up into the center of Bastogne. It had traveled over 150 miles in six days, fighting pitched battles and tank engagements along the way.

With the arrival of Patton’s armored divisions, the Bastogne siege was over. On December 29 troops of the 101st Airborne Division unleashed a counterattack against the Germans on the edge of town.

The failure to take Bastogne essentially ended the Battle of the Bulge. It had been the bloodiest of the battles the US forces experienced in World War II; one in which the 19,000 American dead were unsurpassed by those of any other engagement. A total of 17 Medals of Honor were awarded, seven of them posthumously.

The official casualty figures for the campaign from German High Command were 84,834, although unofficial estimates range between 60,000 and 100,000. German losses in the battle were critical in several other respects. The last of the German reserves were now gone, the Luftwaffe had been shattered, and the remaining German forces in the West were being pushed back to the defenses of the Siegfried Line.

This was the last Christmas of the war.

On April 30, 1945 Hitler committed suicide in his Berlin bunker.

General Alfred Jodl, Chief of Staff of the German Armed Forces High Command, signed the Allies’ unconditional surrender documents for all German forces on May 7, 1945.