Bob McCarty Writes

On the occasion of Memorial Day and in honor of all those who paid the ultimate price in service to their country, I decided to publish a series of war stories that hold a special value in my heart, because they were written by my father, Ted, who served as a low-ranking enlisted man in the U.S. Army during World War II. The stories appear in his 1992 autobiography, Some Events in One Life: Mine! Please know he captured these stories as a means to provide his children and theirs context for his participation in one of history’s most harrowing events, World War II, not for any commercial gain. This is part four of twelve.

On Nov. 1, 1944, our division was no longer farmed out piecemeal to relieve other outfits on the front line. We were considered a semi-seasoned fighting machine and had earned our permanent position on the front line. Whooppee! How lucky can you get? Actually, it increased our morale, realizing we were ready to do our part in this war.

From Nov. 6 to Nov. 25, 1944, the 102nd was allied with the Second Armored Corps.

Our last few days of holding the line were just prior to the major jump-off of the Allied forces which took place Nov. 16, 1944. Both sides recently had been pretty well laid back, waiting for something to happen. Only occasional bursts of firing were carried out by either side. Sometimes, we could see some of the Germans lined up for chow and could hear the clanging of their mess kits and their music being played.

The war had reached a pivotal stage. The Germans knew they had to hold us to the west side of the Siegfried Line. If this proved impossible, they would hope to keep us from crossing the Ruhr and then the Rhine Rivers, both natural barriers not far apart in this area. They had one million troops on their western front while the Allied Forces in Europe totaled two and one-half million. Not a favorable ratio of numbers for the Germans, especially since we usually had nearly complete control of the skies.

The general area from Aachen to Dusseldorf was the primary industrial region of Germany. If it was taken, they did not have enough manufacturing plants elsewhere to produce the tools of war necessary to carry on the conflict. The Allied commanders realized the precarious situation of the Germans. Therefore, the entire Ninth Army was assigned a segment of the front line which measured only seven miles in length. This was just to the northwest of Aachen. This industrial heart of Germany had to be taken to end the conflict.

This buildup within the area was “one of the greatest military concentrations in history”, so stated one of the leading American news magazines of the day.

The enemy hoped to stall the Allies until spring, thus giving themselves a breather in which to calculate a way out of the bad situation in which they now found themselves and their country. The weather was cold and rainy, resulting in much misery on both sides and barely passable secondary roads. Of course, the Allied commanders took these conditions into consideration but they wanted to keep pressing the Germans while the momentum of the war was in our favor. The sooner it could be brought to an end, the better for everyone – even the enemy.

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My Father’s War Stories From World War II — Part One

My Father’s War Stories From World War II — Part Two

My Father’s War Stories From World War II — Part Three

My Father’s War Stories From World War II — Part Five

My Father’s War Stories From World War II — Part Six

My Father’s War Stories From World War II — Part Seven

My Father’s War Stories From World War II — Part Eight

My Father’s War Stories From World War II — Part Nine

My Father’s War Stories From World War II — Part Ten

My Father’s War Stories From World War II — Part Eleven

My Father’s War Stories From World War II — Part Twelve