A group of low-flying Hawker Typhoons came screaming in at low altitude, firing rockets at the German armor and infantry on top of the hill. This, combined with our heavy artillery, infantry, and tank fire, eventually brought the German counterattack to a slow, grinding halt. Combat Command B with supporting infantry finally broke through to the isolated 30th Division regiment.
The entire valley was littered with burned-out tanks and half-tracks. When we finally got our recovery vehicles into the area, the maintenance crews worked around the clock.
During this operation, the crew came upon the crashed wreck of one of the British fighters lying next to one of our tanks. It apparently had been shot down by German ground fire. The pilot had been able to crash-land the plane, but it was upside down with the tail section dug into the ground. One of the maintenance mechanics notified the sergeant that a body was hanging upside down inside, still secured by his seat belt.
There was a strong odor from the gasoline leaking from the plane’s tanks as the graves registration people removed the young British flight lieutenant’s body and put it on a stretcher. But suddenly they realized that the lieutenant was still alive. He had been hanging upside down for a number of hours; it was a miracle that he survived. A fuel line in the engine compartment had broken and fuel was leaking inside the cockpit and running down his seat, down his back, into his hair, and onto the ground. He was soaked with gasoline from head to foot and was beginning to develop red burns on his neck and hands from the high-octane fuel.
The medics brought some blankets, rolled him on his stomach, and stripped off his gasoline-soaked clothing.
His entire back, buttocks, and the back of his legs were burned raw from the gasoline. As he slowly regained consciousness, he was obviously in severe pain. As soon as the medics had moved him a safe distance from the plane, he asked for a cigarette. One of the men remarked, “Damn, I knew those Limeys had guts, but this beats the hell out of anything I’ve ever seen!”
This young pilot had risked his life to help save our tankers, and our men felt deeply indebted to him, particularly because he was not an American. This type of bonding was common among Allied soldiers.
A frail, gaunt-looking member of the press corps had come over with the medics when they removed the pilot. I don’t think anyone recognized him at the time; years later when I read his book Brave Men, I realized that this was Ernie Pyle. He described this incident in such detail that he must have gotten his information firsthand.
While the work was going full blast on recovered tanks, we secured a list of the “W” numbers as well as the extent of damage and map coordinates on all the tanks and other vehicles that had been damaged beyond repair and left on the battlefield. We turned this list over to Division Ordnance in order to secure replacements as quickly as possible. In the meantime, the mad rush was on to repair those vehicles we had in the best and most expeditious manner. If the tank had not been set on fire completely, we could usually repair it.
When a projectile penetrated a tank, a series of incandescent particles usually showered the inside of the fighting compartment. Any crew member in the way would be killed instantly; if not, the ricochet effect inside the tank would utterly destroy him. In some cases, at close range, a projectile would strike the side of the tank and go all the way through, exiting on the other side. In this case the crew would be lucky because they would avoid the terrible ricocheting effect.
The incandescent particles would also generate many small slivers, which embed themselves in the electrical cables, causing them to short out. Often the sparks from this would set the tank on fire. There were manual fire extinguishers inside the tank and also a master lever, which the crew could pull to engulf the fighting compartment with CO2. A penetration in this compartment would often kill or severely wound several crew members, and those abandoning the tank would not have time to set off the fire extinguishers. The oil and gasoline vapors inside the tank plus the paint, seats, insulation, and other flammable materials made any fire difficult to put out once it started.
Penetration of the gas tanks or the engine would also cause fires. Once the gasoline and the ammunition went up, the tank would explode. The open cupola acted like a smoke stack, and the fire would generate such great heat it would anneal the hardness of the armor plate leaving the tank beyond repair.
If the tank struck a mine, the bottom plate would sometimes be warped to the extent that the hull could not be repaired. In this case, if the turret was not severely damaged, it could be removed and replaced on a good hull. If the turret was struck in the trunnion mount, jamming the gun elevating mechanism, it could not be repaired but could be removed and replaced with a good turret. If the tank was penetrated in the ring mount (the junction between the turret and hull), it would warp and damage the ball bearing races on the bottom of the turret and the entire tank would have to be replaced.
One of our maintenance welders found a spent projectile inside a hull. He took a carbon arc and cut the tip off, using this cone to make a plug to weld up the hole the projectile had made. After he ground the surfaces smooth on both sides and we painted the tank inside and outside, it was difficult to find the patch. I always thought this technique was one of the true ironies of warfare, that the projectile also served as the patch. It took considerable skill on the part of the welder to grind and thus camouflage these patches, because a tank crew did not like to get a replacement tank that had been penetrated, particularly if they felt there had been casualties in the tank. In spite of this, tank crews liked to get their old tank back because of sentimental attachments. After a reasonably short time, all the damaged vehicles had either been repaired or replaced, and C Company of the Maintenance Battalion headed south to join CCB near Gorron and Mayenne.
Northeast Toward Falaise
Once the German penetration at Mortain had been sealed off, it became our turn again. The Germans had committed all their available reserves to make the breakthrough at Mortain, and they had overextended themselves. SHAEF immediately recognized this opportunity, and General Eisenhower ordered Bradley’s 12th Army Group to make a wide end run deep into enemy territory. In the meantime, Montgomery’s 21st Army Group was to mount a major offensive in the Caumont-Falaise area and drive south to meet the 12th Army Group, which would trap the bulk of the German 7th and 5th Panzer Armies.
I left the VCP in the afternoon of August 11 and headed south in my Jeep to try to catch up with CCB. I knew that their route was down through Saint Hilaire-du-Harcouët to Gorron and on to Mayenne, but I did not know exactly how far they had gotten. Gorron and Mayenne, heavily damaged by air strikes and artillery and tank fire, were important road junctions, and wherever the Germans held out there was a firefight.
The 3d Armored Division would lead the VII Corps attack and would move rapidly. The corps was getting stretched out, and I realized that the supply routes would be vulnerable. Occasionally, I would pass infantry, artillery, and other motorized units, but a great deal of the time my driver and I would find ourselves alone on a highway in our Jeep going as fast as we could. As we entered Gorron, we had to slow down and pick our way through the heavy debris, then check which route the combat command had taken.
Many of the houses had been damaged and burned. As we drove slowly around the ruins, Vernon suddenly whistled and hollered, “Here, here!” A small gray object emerged from beneath the charred timbers of a smoldering house, ran toward our Jeep, jumped into Vernon’s lap, and started licking his face. The wire-haired terrier puppy, about twelve inches high and probably about three months old, had no collar and apparently had been wandering in the rubble for some time.