Commander of the 359th US Infantry Regiment, he had driven into the front line to resolve an unexpected situation.
His men had been slugging their way forward since taking up the front position for the assault on Giessen and, until this moment, they had done everything he asked.
Until now.
First and Second Battalions had taken a rousting in Giessen, Wettenberg, and Buseck, even with tank support from the 4th Armored’s CCB.
Grosse-Buseck had seen a severe reverse, one that cost CCB nearly a quarter of its tanks and armored-infantry, as well as rendering 2/359th virtually combat ineffective.
Raymond E. Bell, pressurised from above, the desire for forward progress cascading down from Patton to every manjack in the field, had pushed through his Third Battalion and part of CCB, in order to rush Reiskichen before the Red Army could settle.
In short, the result was a disaster, although not one he had fully appreciated, as radio communications with his forward units had been all but lost, the messages broken and interrupted, failing or simply not getting through at all.
His lunge forward brought him into the presence of the commander of Love Company, Major William S Towers.
For his sins, Towers had been ordained as temporary commander of 3/359th by the fickle finger of fate, as a devastating combination of artillery and mortar fire left barely a dozen men of the Battalion command structure standing.
“Say that again, Major.”
“I won’t do it, Colonel. It’s suicide, plain and simple.”
“You’ll do as you’re fucking ordered, Major, or I’ll have your rank and kick you up front with a rifle.”
“You’ll do as you wish, Colonel, but I ain’t ordering these men into certain death… no way and no how.”
Bell’s eyes widened in disbelief as the flagrant disregard for rank and authority continued.
Towers maintained his defiance, pointing around the position in all directions.
“Colonel Bell, Sir, we simply don’t have a King Company any more. Wiped out pretty much… few survivors fallen in with Item for now. The 7th Armored’s boys took a fearful shellacking and they’ve fallen back. No way they’re going to go in again, short of the rest of their division arriving.”
He gestured the Colonel forward.
“Look here, Sir. As far as the eye can see… mines… all sorts… not hastily laid either, but real professional job. Engineers have been swatted away whilst trying to get us some fighting room. Round to the right there, more mines, mix of wire obstacles too, all covered by machine-guns.”
He moved his arm, taking his Colonel’s eyes away from the death trap on the right flank.
“On the left there, see where the tankers got to?” he didn’t wait for a reply, plunging on into his plea for common sense, “Line of mines just behind them and then the Reds opened up a can of whoop-ass on them. Anti-tank guns… we couldn’t get to them. Armored-infantry tried… well, you can see what happened there, Colonel.”
Most of the half-tracks were still smoking.
“Basically, we can sit here and stop them coming back, but we’ve no power to move forward. Artillery’s still got supply issues… the 7th’s outta tanks… battalion’s shot away command-wise… there’s nothing to be done that isn’t suicide, Colonel, and the President’s entrusted me with these boys so don’t think I give two hoots about my career, position and rank, when the alternative is to lead them into a slaughterhouse.”
Bell looked Towers straight in the eye.
“Have you done, Major?”
“Yessir.”
First Sergeant Micco slithered into the position with a report, but sensed the atmosphere and wisely held his tongue.
Bell spoke, his voice much calmer than it had been previously.
“You’re right, Major. No sense it pushing again with no support. I simply didn’t understand the situation.”
Towers nodded and a line was drawn under the confrontation.
“Now, you’ve got Third for the foreseeable future. Get them shaken out for defence a-sap. Report to me on your status, casualties, needs… you know the drill. Orders are simple. They shall not pass, Major. Clear?”
“Crystal, Colonel.”
The message went from the 359th Regiment to divisional command… to Corps command… to Army command… to Patton.
It was greeted with the normal tirade, but it passed quickly as George S Patton understood its significance.
He held the telephone receiver in his hand, silently waiting for his connection to be made.
A voice growled in his ear.
“Bradley.”
“Brad, it’s George.”
“Morning, George. Please tell me this is a social call.”
“’Fraid not, Brad. Bottom line is I’m spent for now. Can’t get into Frankfurt unless you let me bomb it, and you won’t, so I can’t. Been stopped just west of Giessen now, and we just ain’t got the power to muscle through any more. Supply problems, high casualties… I have to let the Third recover, Brad.”
The man on the other end of the line understood how much that cost the man who prided himself as a charger and a go-getter.
“No shame, George. You’ve done well, Heck, everyone’s done well, but we got it wrong again, didn’t we? Across the board, we’ve lost momentum. The Reds have stopped us. OK, we’ve gained a lot of ground, but now they’ve stopped us.”
Patton nodded unseen.
“Next time we won’t make the mistake of underestimating them… yet again.”
The silence was disturbed only by the light crackling of the phone line, as both men contemplated the incredible resilience of the Soviet soldier and the professionalism of the Red Army command.
Each man’s face altered, unknown to the other, as thoughts of undiscovered enemy units turning battles invaded their thoughts.
‘Why are they so good at hiding stuff?’
“Okay, George. You may discontinue the attacks. Sort your line out as you need, but don’t give anything back if you don’t absolutely need to. I don’t need to tell you to be aggressive where you can be, but nothing fancy.”
“Thank you, Brad. I’ll have my full report with you soon.”
“No shame, George. Look after your boys now.”
“Goodbye. Brad.”
“George.”
The Allied Armies’ largest formation had been stopped, albeit after some excellent successes.
Allied efforts would rumble on for a few days, mainly in the south, but, on the 23rd April, Operation Spectrum, in all its guises, was terminated.
Chapter 147 – THE RAMIFICATIONS
There is small risk a general will be regarded with contempt by those he leads, if, whatever he may have to preach, he shows himself best able to perform.
Gathered in the briefing room were the commanders of the Allied Army groups and many other senior officers, mostly those in command of national contingents.
Eisenhower had completed his assessment of Spectrum, praising its overall success, emphasising the heavy blows that had been dealt to all branches of the Soviet military. He accepted the Allied casualty numbers as heavier than expected, conceding that the logistical issues had helped undermine the Allies advance, as well as the Soviet defence.
He made no mention of the avoidance of heavy bombing certain centres of German culture, which had also contributed to the less than full completion of Spectrum.
No-one spoke of it as a defeat, for it simply wasn’t.
However, it had not achieved what it had been expected to achieve and, like Patton and Bradley before him, Eisenhower cited the major reasons.