Not wishing to take ordnance back to base, the Major commanding split his force into two groups, both of which used their remaining weapons on the enemy troops that had avoided the devastation at Zell, killing hundreds more on the roads to Walhausen and Altlay.
After the air attacks and artillery barrages had done their work, 1st/320th pushed on.
Such was the horror of their advance that very few soldiers, from veteran to greenhorn, held their breakfast down, and half-tracks were streaked with vomit as the companies pushed forward towards the bridge.
It got no better when they got there, and the awfulness of that bridge was to haunt many of the 320th’s young soldiers until their dying day.
There was no alternative but to drive on through the sticky mass of charred flesh.
There was no chance of anyone having survived the onslaught, and it was not until the lead units reached the fork in the road that truly recognisable pieces of human or animal bodies really started to appear.
As agreed, Bravo Company and the Recon element took the left turn, following Route 421 and heading up the sharp windy hill out of the Moselle Valley.
Charlie Company committed to the right, using Route 194.
Once the units were clear of the killing field, both commanders pulled them over, set out a temporary picquet line, and gave their boys a little time to recover.
Able Company, detailed by the Regimental commander to secure Zell-Mosel and the environs, found themselves unable to avoid the dreadful sights.
Moving through Zell, squads sent to find any enemy stay-behinds found civilians and Soviet soldiers sat together in the numerous flood cellars, shocked, stunned, most clinging to each other with vice-like grips, regardless of whom it was they sought their solace and support from.
The doughboys of A Company treated all equally and, in many ways, they were as shocked and stunned as those who had seen and heard the awfulness at first hand.
One platoon of Able Company secured another route out at Merl, finding only civilians, and Route 199 free of any obstructions or enemy troops.
As each report made its way back to the 320th’s commander, he grew more excited, seeing the bigger picture immediately.
His report arrived with the commanding officer of the 35th, Major General Paul W. Baade.
He encouraged the 320th to exploit the gap, opening it wider and pushing ahead, and to the latter task he dispatched the remainder of the 35th Recon, as well as the entire 60th Engineer Battalion.
Whilst not fully appreciating the situation at Zell, he realised enough to send extra hands, so medical units, quartermaster troops, and even the divisional band were ordered forward to help clear the way.
Before he also went himself, having decided to move his headquarters forward, Baade passed his information up the line.
Ernest. N Harmon, commander of US XXII Corps acted immediately, ordering his assets towards the potential opening, and then contacted his own superior.
“Sir, General Harmon.”
Patton covered the distance to the telephone like a cheetah in pursuit of a gazelle, almost physically wrestling it from the Communications officer’s hand.
“Ernie, George.”
It took only a moment for everyone to understand that Harmon was giving Patton just the news he wanted.
“Sonofabitch! What you doing about it, Ernie?”
Patton flicked his fingers at the map table, sending his staff there to wait for him, grabbed the telephone’s body and moved to put some geography to Harmon’s words.
“Excellent, excellent. Now… first things first… Rheinböllen… get me Rheinböllen, secure it, leave summat to hold it and then… hell for leather, Ernie, hell for goddamned leather, you take your boys all the way to Mainz and get me across the goddamned Rhine.”
Patton half-listened to Harmon’s objections, open flank, unknown defences, poor roads… but only half-listened, because the Third Army’s commander was already looking at what he intended to do next.
“Ernie, will you cut the ‘can’t do’s’ and give me Rheinböllen… and when you’ve done that, on to Mainz. You can do it, and you will do it. Just keep an eye on your right flank and work with Twenty-three Corps to stay secure. Hugh Gaffey will hang on to you, no problem.”
Patton twisted a smaller map to face him and studied it whilst he made the hum response to Harmon’s continued concerns.
“Listen, Ernie, I’m putting Twenty-one Corps online behind you, and I’m gonna drop the 15th Armored into line too, so you have some real beef back-up. Yes, it’s a goddamned logistical nightmare but we’ll overcome as always.”
Harmon was obviously somewhat soothed by this addition.
“Seventeen Corps will head towards Koblenz. The rest of the Army’ll close up, ready to exploit the breakthrough, and I want it to be you, Ernie.”
Patton laughed at his Corps Commander’s response.
“You and I go back way too far for me to soft-soap you, Ernie. Now, I’m relying on you. Stick to Plan Delaware until I tell you otherwise, clear?”
Patton listened to the rest of Harmon’s words, looking at the staff around him, already working out how best to implement the plan he had outlined to Harmon.
He nodded in approval, for no one’s benefit but his own.
“Remind me, where’s your HQ at? Fit for purpose is it?”
Patton already knew the answer to question number one.
“Excellent. Best you get yourself forward then, cos that will be my HQ this evening, Ernie.”
Patton pursed his lips as Harmon told him the Corps HQ was nearly ready to move forward.
“Okay, Ernie. Pass on my thanks to General Baade and his boys and let’s get this show on the goddamned road.”
He hung up and passed the telephone back to the waiting signaller, who had desperately hung on to the cable to stop Patton losing the connection.
“Right, I can see you’re all on the ball here. Get the orders cut and sent for Seventeen, Twenty-one, Twenty-two and 15th Armored… get the rest of the Corps’ prepped ready for an immediate move.”
Orders issued, Patton stood back and let the staff officers rush off like a firework display rocket bursting.
Repacking his pipe, he silently beckoned to his CoS, Hobart Gay.
Chuckling, he passed on the gist of the exchange.
“Old Gravel was none too pleased ‘bout airing his right flank, Hap.”
“Can’t say that I blame him, General.”
Patton nodded at Gay’s honesty.
“He won’t have anything to worry about. Look at the bigger picture.”
Pointing with the stem of his pipe, Patton ticked off the concerns.
“Sixth Army Group are doing just fine… good advances… no issues hanging onto our coat tails.”
Another stab towards the map.
“The sonsofbitches are just melting away from us… in fact… all across Europe… look at it all, Hap.”
“Yes, I know, General. But are they going ‘cos we’re shoving, or going according to their plans. I just don’t like it… seems too easy… they’re too quiet.”
Patton laughed again, using up the last of his daily allowance before lunchtime.
“What are you, Hap, some goddamned western movie? Well just so… we’re the cavalry and them there red men, the sonsofbitches, are the Indians… and we always win.”
There was no arguing with that, so Gay and Patton set about the business of deciding who would go where and, before Hamm’s church clock struck six pm, the entire Third Army was on the move eastwards.
Hamm was quiet once more.
Patton’s humour had evaporated earlier that morning, when his headquarters, on the move forward from Wittlich-land, had been hit by an unexpected Soviet air incursion.