The Battle of the Bulge started in December of 1944. We were loaded on open-bed trucks, transported to southern France, and thrown into combat. It was freezing cold and snowfall was heavy. Our first assignment was to dig through the snow and the frozen ground to create foxholes. We didn’t have tents. Instead we covered ourselves with bedrolls and slept in our foxholes.

Our pants, shirts jackets, and wool overcoats were all heavy, but they didn’t really keep out the bitter cold. Our shoes were basic, solid shoes. Still, many soldiers had difficulty with their feet in the cold weather. There was virtually an epidemic of frozen feet called “trench foot.”

We never took a bath. The extent of staying clean was washing our hands and faces in a small amount of water that came from canteens that we carried on our bodies. We were allowed to refill our canteens from sources of water within the company, and use it for drinking and making coffee, along with occasionally washing up.

We lived out in the open—either in fields or woods. We moved around a lot, but if we were in a single position for any length of time we dug a company latrine. Mostly, though, we just dug our own holes that served as “bathrooms.”

Our basic food was called “K-Rations.” Each man kept his K-Rations with him. They were in a box. The box had some type of mean in a can, such as bacon and eggs. We’d try to heat it up, but in the absence of a fire, we just ate it cold. Our box of food usually included a few cigarettes and maybe a candy bar. If we could, we’d build a small fire and make coffee.

Our outside news was minimal. It came from a combination of word-of-mouth and a newspaper called The Stars and Stripes that was passed around.

 We were assigned “buddies.” The two of us dug foxholes together, and if conditions permitted we would build a small fire in our foxhole. The foxholes were probably four feet deep and two or three feet wide, so quarters were very close.

Our main activity was to look for Germans—mainly to see they didn’t advance. You see, at the beginning of the Bulge, German troops advanced on the Allies. It was our job to stop their advances. Ultimately, they were stopped and then our job was to repel them and force them to retreat.

We were most definitely in a combat situation. Anytime live bullets, or the potential for live bullets, coming your way you are apprehensive. Also, you get hardened to the idea that you might die. You are fatalistic in that you say, “If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.” This is the common attitude.

We would talk together and find out most men had the same attitudes. Occasionally our talks became philosophical and most men accepted the fact that a bullet might be intended for him. But most of our conversations were about protecting our position and guarding against what might occur.

Non-commissioned officers gave us instructions such as, “Hold that line. Make sure Germans don’t come further than this particular point.” One of the most common bits of advice to those at the end of the line was, “Don’t turn your flank!” If you didn’t hold your position, you and your buddies were vulnerable. We very definitely felt responsibility toward our fellow soldiers.

It was difficult to hold our ground. One of the most fearsome situations was when German tanks rolled toward us. Obviously, as foot soldiers, we were no match for a tank. There were several ways to combat a tank, but it was really a very unfair battle. We did have one type of weapon called a “bazooka.” One person in our platoon was assigned to the bazooka. It was his function to be prepared to shoot what was a rocket to hit the tank and disable it.

For the most part our weapons were equal to the German weapons, but they did have one weapon that was superior to ours. It was an artillery piece called an “88.” It was a very versatile weapon that we paid a lot of attention to because it could be used to combat our tanks, shell us with artillery, and create major havoc.

We had extensive training on how to care for our weapons. Most important was to protect them from the weather. We didn’t want them to fall into the snow and get jammed, so we kept our weapons very close to our bodies.