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Clarence Whistler read about his own funeral
Editor's Note: This is part two of a three part story about Clarence Whistler's life in the Army during World War ll. See the Tuesday Daily Mail for part three.
By Neoma Foreman
Special to the Daily Mail
The following story is a true account of the private adventures of Clarence Whistler, who served in the United States Army from May 1943 through November 1945.
By Clarence H. Whistler
These things were taking place at Hennebont and one day the first sergeant came by and wanted me to join a machine gun squad at Nostang. He said there was more action going on over there and he wanted me there to give him a report on how it was going. Well, not long after I arrived the Germans set up a 24-hour barrage of artillery, which kept all of us in our dugouts, and the noise was terrific for such a long time. Fortunately no one had a direct hit because that would have been fatal. I gave the sergeant His report.
We pulled guard duty every night and no one cared much for the four hours that each of us had to pull. On this one occasion my friend, Daniel Leonard and I were in the machine gun emplacement and straining our eyes to see something when all of a sudden flares were set off so that we could see as bright as day, but there was nothing to see. Leonard grabbed the machine gun and gave them a couple of burst, but to no avail. After that scare we were still watching and waiting and I whispered to Leonard that I could hear someone inching up to our gun emplacement. He could hear it too. But after while we heard a yell and gunfire behind us about which we learned that obviously the German had gotten through our lines and fell into the garbage sump, but got away.
Ordinarily, the fellows in the rifle companies go out on patrol to contact the enemy, but this one time I volunteered to go to see about things for myself. After we had gone about a hundred yards into no man's land we came to a house on the banks of a canal. We walked right in just like we owned it and looked around. Everything was there. The family must have left in a hurry and took nothing. When we were leaving out the back door we discover a small wire that had dropped to the floor and hooked behind the door was a hand grenade. Obviously an artillery shell had hit the bathroom, blown open the door and knocked the grenade over which dropped the wire. In other words we escaped a booby trap. We then decided it was time for us to get back to our own lines.
We talked to a squad from a rifle company who had just gotten back from an enemy contact and they told about a German soldier they found all by himself so they tied him to a tree and stuck an apple in his mouth. They figured he was still there, but their superiors were angry because they didn't bring the German back for interrogation.
We must have stayed on that line two months at which time we celebrated Christmas 1944. Some of us had parcels sent to so we shared what we had. Soon after Christmas we moved by trucks on our way to the front lines. We spent one night in the Argonne forest where our forefathers had fought world war I and now all the trees were the same size and we looked around and found all kinds of mortar shells and other implements of war along a ditch about four feet deep. Eventually Mother Nature, given enough time, can erase all signs of war. One fellow kicked a shell and I said as I ran, "man, that thing may still go off!"
That night we slept in our sleeping bags with two blankets inside. I zipped my bag up over my head and left a hole for air. The next morning I had a terrible time getting my bag unzipped because we had had a freezing rain during the night. I remember I could sleep anywhere in those days and under any circumstances.
We were being transported by cattle trucks with full gear one night. The weather had been very cold and there was lots of snow. The highway had become very slick and the convoy stopped and we were unloaded to walk down a long hill. One of the trucks had jackknifed and when the driver got out another truck slid next to him and killed him. When I stepped out of the truck my feet flew out from under me, but I had so much gear on it didn't hurt a bit.
We arrived to a small town on the German - French border to spend time before we were sent up to the front lines to relieve another unit. We could hear artillery and small arms fire and German planes flew over as well as our own. When the first German jet flew over I didn't really know what I was looking at. The sound made it sound like a big artillery shell coming over.
I couldn't believe it, but we actually went on 5 and 10 mile hikes that close to the front. They wanted us to stay in shape, but we had German air raids right along every day. Many of us went to a religious service held in a barn and we all took communion together and we didn't care what denomination the chaplain claimed to be.
After about five days we moved up under the cover of night to go into the town of Nennig to relieve those troops. We rode on trucks within a mile so then we had to walk and carry everything. My load was an ammunition box in one hand and the tool box for the machine gun in the other when we arrived, the only thing going on was an occasional incendiary artillery shell bursting.
My squad relieved another squad in a house just below a high cliff, which was the Maginot line, and the Moselle River also ran nearby. We were in the country of Luxembourg and the Germans were over the bluff somewhere. One of our squads was sent to relieve the squad on the cliff whom we were to relieve in a few days.
During the few days we were there we were pounded with artillery seemingly on a regular schedule.
One Sunday night late I was on guard duty at the back of the house. After some excitement I had made my way to the coal bin and sat there with a sergeant and his gunner from the other squad listening to the war. Rasmussen had let a grenade explode in his hand and he was in terrible pain. Another fellow had fourteen bullets in his leg and the German lieutenant was calling for us to surrender. Rassmussen answered with, "We come with hands up." I asked the sergeant with me, "what should we do?" All he would do is put his finger to his lips and shushed me. After all the rest of the two squads had given up I thought maybe they will miss us and we can get back to our own lines, but about that time a medic came into the building calling for the sergeant With me who answered he was in the coal bin. When I looked up to a flashlight shining in my eyes I saw a German with a pistol in his hand at which I dropped my rifle, stood up and raised my hands. The other two did the same and we all went out the front door.
When I cleared the front door a German soldier was there to neatly pull my gloves from my hand, which I regretted many times later. We were herded past the tank I was supposed to disable into another building. We were stripped of all weapons including six hand grenades I was carrying. We were made to sit there until a wounded German on a stretcher was brought in and then we were to carry him back to the German lines.
Four of us were ordered to carry the stretcher and an enemy soldier led the way, but the artillery was so intense because the Americans had pulled their shells back so they were all coming in where we were. Some shells landed so close to us the concussion lifted me off my feet. The air seemed too filled with shrapnel, but we made it to a German underground headquarters without a scratch. A German doctor in perfect English asked if any of us were wounded.
About ten of us were in this underground shelter and I had all the rest of the night to think about how I would like to be home. When they took my billfold they threw away my French money claiming it was no good, but they let me keep everything else. Now in the light we could see the insignia on their collars, which proved to be the SS troops who were sent to go against us.
At dawn we were moved out in single file with one guard in front and another at the rear. I began to think of the British and American soldiers who were gunned down at Malmedy just weeks before and I was convinced that the same thing would happen here so I prayed, "forgive them, lord for what they are about to do." Then I decided I had better get one more prayer in for myself. We went through some very desolate places on the way back, but the German guards stayed right with us showing us how to avoid being shot by our own aircraft by running to a fence and standing in between posts to look like another post.
By Monday evening we were given one slice of very dark bread. I was getting hungry because I had had an upset stomach just before we were captured and hadn't eaten anything for a day. We stayed in a very large farmhouse with an upstairs and there was room for everybody. This was the best accommodation I had during my stay with German troops.
The next few days were a continuous walking away from the front lines and getting further back in Germany. One night we were put in the local jail and we were right there the next morning when they came back.
See the Tuesday, March 15 edition of the Nevada Daily Mail for the conclusion.