Page 51

Sunday, 28 January, 1945 – Monday, 29 January, 1945

[Continued from previous page] nice to see. Our second platoon assisted in the capture of 54 prisoners today (we finally located them about 15 miles from here). Booby traps and mines are everywhere. They are our most serious concern. So far, keen observations and patience have saved us many casualties. I hope that our good fortune continues. The Russian front is doing well and the war on all fronts has taken a favorable turn for the Allies. The snow is about a foot deeper here in the Ardennes sector. In some places drifts are seven feet deep. Wrote two letters today. Hit the sack at 2000.

Sunday, 28 January 1945 Tavigny, Belgium
Church Bells awoke me this morning, at first I thought that I was home. The thought didn’t last for long. It is still snowing and still cold. A few civilians still live in town. They are having a rough time of it. The day has been uneventful but we expect to move up tomorrow to the front lines. I like uneventful days but they aren’t too numerous for us anymore. The enemy is shelling many of the towns around us but they can’t aim too well from over their shoulders. Hit the sack at 2100.

Monday, 29 January 1945 Braunlauf, Belgium¹
Up at 0600. Shaved, had breakfast and was ready to move at 1000. We spent the day on the road, stopping and starting. Traffic was very heavy and there were parts of the road still uncleared of mines. It was slow and dangerous progress, but it was also exhilarating. [Continued on next page]

Inserts

Clipping of newspaper article titled “The Joe in the Snow,” describing the conditions in Belgium for soldiers during the harsh winter of 1944-1945. Stars and Stripes, Vol. 1, No. 181, n.d.[January 1945]
“This Is about snow. The northern boys remember it well. As kids we loved it. Took out our flexible flyers and went belly-whopping down the hills. Made snow men with it. Packed it into hard, round balls that caught other kids in the head and melted down the backs of their necks. When our hands got red and our feet got cold we’d call it a day. We’d go indoors. To a hot fire and a good scolding for getting our feet wet. We’d put on dry socks and shoes and eat hot chow to take off the chill. When we were kids snow sure was fun.
There’s lots of snow on the Western Front these days. The Ardennes for instance. What’s left of Bastogne is like a Christmas card. The trees are like old queens stooping under the weight of their ermine robes. The wires loop from pole to pole like tinsel on a Christmas tree—except where the weight of ice and snow has pulled them down and the Signal repair men are patching them. Snow lies smooth on the hillsides, with only here and there a lump that, come Spring, will stink to high heaven. It’s beautiful. Boy, it’s beautiful.
But the flexible flyers have turned into tanks. The snow men are Schutzstaffel. The snowballs are grenades. The wet stuff trickling down the back of necks is often blood. And when you’re wet and numb with cold there’s no place to go to. Nothing to look forward to. Nothing but snow. Cold. Wet. Beautiful snow.
NOTE: Shoe packs. Blankets. Woollen socks. Winter combat clothes. Cigarettes. The things that make winter a little warmer and life more livable—belong up there with the Joe in the snow.”