Part XI

It was 17 December 1944 with the flying weather at its worst when General Von Rundsted got the German Offensive in Belgium off the ground. Adolph, the "little corporal", had at last listened to one of his most brilliant military leaders (thank God he didn't so chose earlier at Invasion Time).

The allied forces suffered their biggest setback of the war. It was called the "bulge" and there was a small place on a country lane, "Bastogne", that became, overnight, a household word around the world. Yes, we were "stung", right where it hurt most. But thanks to a sudden change for the better in flying weather and the aggressiveness of a man called "George", the Ardennes Offensive was met head on. In its entirety, Patton's Third Army again made history when it swung north from its position along the Saar to confront the German Drive near Bastogne. It was at this point that General Patch and the US Seventh Army and the French First Army on Patton's "right flank" had stabilized the allied position and also, as it turned out, a threatening second German Offensive through the Voges--this one would have been right in the 34th's backyard.

The weather first broke on the 23rd of December. The allied air arm once again brought its full weight against the Germans. With the British and the US 1st and 9th Armies putting the squeeze on from the north; the Third hitting 'em on the nose; and the 7th and French applying a critical pincher movement from the south the German counter-offensive was completely contained by the end of December--and Hitler's "elite" was once again on the run. With the Russians applying pressure from the east it really looked like a quick ending was in sight. But the weather, once again, turned "sour" and gave the "Hun" a chance to dig in along the Siegfried Line, at least momentarily. Their respite was short-lived, however, and by the end of February the German final retreat of the war was under way.

With the December break in flying weather the Thirty Fourth was soon back on its round-the-clock schedule--first takeoff at dawn and last plane on the ground at dusk, even after dark at times. Our pilots, again, were soon flying two and sometimes three missions a day. Christmas was a typical example--a normal working day. Almost daily the squadron was breaking its own records--missions flown, film and prints processed--you name it and it was a new record. The "Unsung Bunch" and the men in engineering, photo lab, plotting and interpretation were working night and day to keep it all rolling. The whole ball of wax?--you bet, it was under control with Bob Jarrell and Jim Dempsey pulling the strings.

As indicated, Christmas Day was a "beaut"--hardly a cloud in the sky. The skies were loaded with planes--both ours and theirs. Once again Hank Fregulia and "friends" did themselves proud--but it all had to be served between missions. The hectic pace persisted until February when the bad weather-lull slowed operations temporarily.

During the New Year's period of stepped-up air activity the Reich, in a desperation move, came up with another gimmick--they dropped camouflaged paratroops behind our lines in the 7th Army area. These troops were not greenhorns, they were expertly trained, wore US uniforms under their camouflaged jump gear, and all spoke excellent English. Results of their "handy work" was first reported early New Year's morning when in a captured US six by six, machine gun mounted in the rear, a group of four pulled through the checkpoint just outside Nancy on the road to Azelot/Lupecourt and totally wiped it out--more than one 34th "Liberty-run" vehicle had passed that same checkpoint, just before and after the attack, on the way back to base.

On 2 January 1945 word from higher headquarters was received that a relatively small-scale attack by the enemy could be expected in the Seventh Army area. Immediately, Nancy was declared "off limits" to all troops and squadron orders were posted that, "Men will wear steel helmets and carry weapons at all times". Even though the 34th guard detail had been doubled since 22 November extra guard posts throughout the area were manned poste haste.

Needless to say there was electricity in the air and everyone was on edge and very alert. For the next several days there were both reports and evidence found of German paratroop-infiltration throughout the area. Reports by all units of isolated shots fired in the area during these days were fairly common. Even "Midnight Charlie", our "friendly (?) Ju-88", returned after an extended leave of absence to pay us a couple of nightly visits--coming in low and buzzing the strip and squadron area--but did not drop anything at least directly on us.

But on 5 January we did suffer our second enlisted fatality of the war. Eino Kangas, of our communication section, was killed by a carbine bullet in a dense forest annexing the 34th squadron area. What initially looked like a possible shot from a "sniper", a thorough investigation disclosed and confirmed that his death was caused in an accidental hunting incident.

The immediate threat and accompanying tension eased as suddenly as it began; the "German" was on the run eastward; a feeling of normalcy had returned; and on 19 January the squadron had returned its guard strength to its original status.

Due to the poor flying weather, once again, February started out slowly. But by the month's end the Provisional Reconnaissance Group had earned its first Presidential Unit Citation and the Thirty Fourth was wearing its second Presidential Award.

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