AN EXCERPT FROM THE VIKING BATTALION: NORWEGIAN AMERICAN SKI TROOPERS IN WORLD WAR II

CHAPTER ONE: Howard R. Bergen

Edited by Olaf Minge, Kyle Ward, and Erik Brun
From The Viking Battalion: Norwegian American Ski Troopers in World War, Chapter 1, published by Casemate, July 31, 2023, pages 2-20, reprinted with permission.

Howard R. “Bus” Bergen was a private in the 99th Infantry Battalion (Separate) who wrote a historical account of the group’s formation and key events titled “History of the 99th Infantry Battalion, U.S. Army.” His writing was published in 1945 while the 99th was stationed in Norway at the end of World War II and was the official unit history that was provided as a souvenir for each soldier.

Acting as the editor and lead author to the official battalion history of World War II, Bergen left us with a clear and concise history of the 99th and World War II that remains to this day relevant and seminal. Bergen was on the 99th newspaper staff and it was common among World War II units to write their unit histories soon after the European campaign’s completion.

Writing in Norway with access to battalion records and fresh memories, he establishes the war as they knew it. This book is the starting point for historians, descendants, and amateur researchers to understand how the 99th leaders and veterans saw themselves.

He received five Campaign Stars recorded on his honorable discharge and was awarded a Bronze Star by the War Department in a letter dated September 23, 1947 for “exemplary conduct in ground combat against the armed enemy on or about 1 December, 1944 in the European Theatre of Operations.”

Bergen was born in Lakewood, Ohio on November 22, 1916. His mother was Bessie Johnson, born in Norway and arriving in Lakewood at the age of two with her family. He was called “Bus” for his entire life due to his large size at birth. He graduated from Lakewood High School and attended Cornell University. He worked for an advertising agency until enlisting in the Army.

Bergen married in September 1945 in the chapel at Smestad in Oslo, Norway. His wife had been working for the U.S. Embassy to the Norwegian government-in-exile in London during the Blitz and returned to Oslo with the embassy staff when the war ended.

Howard returned to Lakewood after the war and immediately went to work as a reporter for the Cleveland Press where he remained for 35 years until he retired. He was inducted into the Cleveland Journalism Hall of Fame in 1998, being recognized as a great writer and investigative reporter. He had three stories selected for a popular radio and television series called “The Big Story”—a crime drama which dramatized the true stories of real-life newspaper reporters.

Howard “Bus” Bergen died October 24, 1991.

Training for Combat1

On the tenth day of July 1942, the 99th Infantry Battalion (Separate), a unit composed solely of Norwegians and Americans of direct Norwegian descent, was activated by War Department order at Camp Ripley, Minnesota. Under the command of Captain H. D. Hansen, a small cadre of enlisted men and officers began preparations to receive the incoming men needed to fill the ranks of this battalion. They came from far and near, from famous divisions and reception centers, seasoned soldiers and raw recruits, men who had traveled the far reaches of the earth and boys who had scarcely set foot out of the Norwegian settlements in the great Midwest. Day after day they piled out of truck, train, and motor car. Rapidly the companies, platoons, and squads filled with men of every age and description; the War Department order had been circulated in every camp and reception center in the country and eager volunteers flocked to the call.

The roster of the outfit was typically Scandinavian—Hansen, Johnsen, Petersen, Berg, Andersen, Grunseth, Amundsen, and on down the line, but the lives and experiences of these men were as varied as their names were similar. Many were ex-members of the escaped Norwegian Merchant Marine and victims of the ruthless Nazi submarine warfare; many had lived under German tyranny in their native land only to escape and join up to fight with the forces opposing it. All were commonly united in one great resolve: to help to free their country of its oppressor. This feeling was directly transmitted to the American Norwegians and helped to fuse them together into a vicious and capable combat organization.

Near the end of September, the battalion moved to Fort Snelling, Minnesota, where the training in basic subjects was continued and where one of the roughest features of training—constant and grueling speed marches—eliminated all but the physically fit from the ranks of the unit. Various Norwegian officers and dignitaries paid visits to the new, highly publicized organization and found it all that the newspapers said it was and more. The people of the Twin Cities, St. Paul and Minneapolis, opened their hearts to the men and many and constant were the invitations to social events, parties, and dinners.

The toughest training lay ahead. On December 17, 1942, the entire battalion moved from Fort Snelling to the top of the Continental Divide, 9,600 feet above sea level. There at the Mountain Training Center, Camp Hale, Colorado they had the “moon in their laps.” As the men of the 99th silently viewed the towering peaks, rocky ravines, and swirling snow, there came to their minds an idea of the things to come.

Warm, new, insulated barracks awaited the men although the camp itself was far from being completed upon arrival of the unit. The two-story barracks were especially constructed to house everyone comfortably in the extreme cold found at this altitude during winter months and the central heating system was highly effective. Showers, indoor latrines, and good beds completed the attractions and it was, as one man was heard to mutter at a later date, “Too damned bad that we couldn’t spend more time living in them.”

Sivart “Ron” Windh at a dance, while stationed at Fort Snelling, Minnesota. The photo captures the Scandinavian ethnic pride in Minnesota. Windh, a Swede in Company C, was later wounded in Belgium. He was recruited from his hospital by the Office of Strategic Service (OSS) for its Norwegian Operational Groups by some of his old 99th buddies. He jumped with Major William Colby’s team into Norway in 1945 in Operation Rype under the direction of Lt. Col. Gerhard Bolland. (Courtesy of the 99th Educational Foundation)

The array and weight of the equipment which was issued within the next few days was staggering to contemplate. Weight of the individual loads to be carried by each ski soldier ran as high as 70 to 97 pounds depending on the mission to be accomplished. Such weights as these necessitated the development of some entirely new techniques in loading, packing, and skiing, because the troops were shortly to embark upon an intensive program of training in the art of winter warfare. To give an indication of loads carried, and definitely needed in this rigorous climate, there is shown the list as given in the Proposed Manual for Mountain Troops, Chapter IV, Organizational Equipment:

Load Carried on the Person:
Pistol belt and pouches
Gas mask
Rucksack

On the Pack:
Rifle
Bayonet
Entrenching tool
First Aid pk.
Emergency snowshoes*

In the Parka:
Ski wax
Waterproof match box
Spare mittens
Ski knife
Goggles

In the Rucksack: (pack)
PWhite over-pants and over mittens
Tent pegs
Rations **
Sleeping pad
Climbers (pocket) for skis for steep slopes
Extra socks and pocket insoles
Tent (green, white, reversible mountain tent) ***
Sleeping bag ****
Tent poles
Underwear and pocket thongs
Canteen
1 Coleman gas stove *****
Cooking Set ******

* Each man carried three types: Emergency, bear paw, or trail.

** Mountain rations: One box carries rations for you for four days or four men for one day.

*** This mountain tent is carried by one man in this two-man load. The other man carries the Coleman gas stove.

**** Sleeping bag: Two-piece which can be rolled up just as neatly into perhaps an equally small roll as the ordinary two-blanket roll of the regular infantry. It has been used on windswept mountaintops in temperatures of from 30 to 40 degrees below zero, and in blizzards. Men and officers swear by it as the last word in keeping warm and snug.

***** Gas stove: Part of two-man load mentioned above.

****** Cooking set: Another part of the two-man load.

In addition to all of this must be added a pair of skis and two ski poles.

The weight carried by the automatic rifleman was some 97 pounds including his ammunition. Yet even with this tremendous load the men managed exceedingly well thanks to a harness-like device, far excelling the harness of the regular infantry, which distributed the weight on the backs and hips instead of on the shoulders alone.

Training, begun in mid-winter, lasted straight through until August 1943. During the entire period the unit was in the field living, eating, sleeping, and training a minimum of three days and nights weekly. The social life of the men reached a new and hitherto unheard of low—it was a constant, grueling round of work, work, work. It was the kind of stuff that many had read about but never experienced. The men made records of speed and endurance, but the publicity raves echoed a bit hollow in their ears. The back-breaking, lung-burning climbs, the bitter, numbing cold, the continual grind of training all served to diminish the glamor associated by newspapers and magazines with the unit. But through the long training, hardship, and work, there flared up within each man a pride of unit; a comradeship which is seldom found in units composed of men with dissimilar backgrounds; a certain intangible something which is the prime requisite of all first-class combat units—the firm and unshakable belief that his unit is the “best damned outfit in the armed forces!”

Much of the training carried out by the unit was experimental in nature, testing various types of equipment thrown in its direction by the War Department. Some innovations were made by members of the battalion, discoveries which met with the enthusiastic approval of the government. First was a mount made for a heavy machine gun from two skis—a mount from which the gun could be placed into immediate action, and second, a three-ski sled for litter bearers.

Among other things during this period the battalion undertook a 50-mile cross-country test march, a march which required four days to complete. All rations and most of the heavier equipment were manhandled with the aid of four-dog teams which helped in pulling the freight sleds. The men wore either snowshoes or skis, depending upon their function in the mission. Many of the mortars were broken down into three-man loads hand-carried while climbing steep, icy trails or skirting deep precipices. For the entire first two days of the trek across desolate, snowclad mountains, the man faced a continual uphill grind to the very top of the Continental Divide and thence on down the other side. In certain places they reached altitudes of over 12,000 feet above sea level.

Frequent “breaks” had to be made to enable the men to catch their breath as heavy loads, the rarified atmosphere, and intense cold made breathing almost impossible. At times it was necessary to stop every 10 minutes. At night, the men found the water in their canteens frozen solid. After cooking a meal on their stoves and hastily eating it before it froze in the pan, they stacked their skis, pitched their tent in a hole dug in the snow, and wearing their clothes, including ski-boots, inside their sleeping bags to keep from freezing solid, they dropped off into sound sleep. The speed and endurance records made on missions of this sort live today in the annals of the Mountain Training Center.

When spring came to Camp Hale, one full month after its arrival in all other parts of the country, skis and snowshoes were put away and straight mountain climbing was put on the schedule. Once more the adaptable members of the battalion proved their mettle and new laurels were added. In June of 1943 many men volunteered for a strategic force of men who were to undergo paratroop and commando training prior to the then considered inevitable invasion of Norway. The battalion was given preference, and many old comrades and officers left to form the nucleus of the new special striking force of warmakers extraordinary.

It was in June, too, that Lt. Colonel R. G. Turner took over the command of the 99th Battalion. Major Harold D. Hansen, having done an excellent job of organizing, training, and initiating the unit, was made executive officer and continued to perform capably in his new position. He had long since endeared himself in the hearts of his men because of his rugged, understanding qualities and because he was a born leader for this type of force.

In preparation for movement overseas, the battalion moved from Camp Hale to Camp Shanks in New York on August 24, 1943. Arriving after a tedious cross-country trip on August 27 the men immediately went into the routine of drawing new equipment, receiving shots for every known disease, and sweating out passes to the big city. For many men who hailed from New York and its environs this was an excellent chance to see their families for perhaps the last time. For those less lucky it was a chance to partake of a social life which would be unknown to them for a long time to come. The men took full advantage of this opportunity before embarking on their great adventure.

The fifth day of September found the battalion aboard the stout ship SS Mexico and bound for parts guessed at, but unknown. Outside of being rather rough and very tedious, the passage was comparatively uneventful. A number of “alerts” kept the gun crews on their toes but outside of the warning “Submarines in the direct vicinity,” the convoy had no trouble. Time was spent in reading, playing cards, or watching the sleek, swift destroyer escort continually maneuvering about in search of enemy U-boats.

The 99th arrived in Scotland on September 16 and immediately boarded the train which was to take them to their new camp in England. After 16 hours by rail the unit arrived at Perham Downs Camp, Tidworth area, Wiltshire, England. This area is well known as an old and famous training ground for British soldiers. The camp was centrally located between Salisbury and Andover. Both of these ancient and charming English towns offered much in the way of entertainment, study, and relaxation for the training-weary soldier. Accommodations were excellent with permanent barracks of stone, baths, recreation rooms, and NAAFI. The terrain surrounding the camp was highly suitable for the type of training which the unit was now to undergo, and almost immediately upon arrival another strenuous program was begun. Now it was straight infantry training, long hikes, tactical problems, weapons, lectures, classes, week-long bivouacs on the cold, wet ground of England, and of course, numerous inspections. Specialized training was included also, such as the actual firing of the rocket launcher and throwing of fragmentation and assault grenades. One hundred and ten men were sent to St. Agnes, Cornwall, for practical training and firing of the .30- and .50-caliber machine guns. There were actual mortar exercises. Beside this, 26 men attended a combat swimming course in London with all except two qualifying as instructors.

It was here at Perham Downs that 300 members of the 99th underwent one of the roughest phases of their rugged careers. A ration test, as the name implies, is a test by which the War Department determines the actual quality of a new ration by its effect upon men undergoing the conditions which they will undoubtedly meet in combat; it is the final and by far the most important endorsement. The battalion was picked to test the new ration, which is now, by all standards, the most heavily used and popular combat issuance in the American armed forces today.2 In Dartmoor forest the men marched an average of 20 miles a day, every day for 15 straight days. In continual rain and with full field packs, they marched across some of the roughest and most desolate country in the British Isles. They carried all of their possessions on their backs and at night they slept in an area which resembled an artificial lake more than a bivouac area. Each morning the soldiers were weighed individually, and an accurate check was made daily on their physical condition. The rain failed to dampen their spirits as after a few days it became the normal thing. At last the grind was finished and after a final check-up by doctors, government experts, and SOS officers the men were allowed to return to Tidworth for a well-deserved rest. This contribution was highly commended by the War Department and another notch was cut in the 99th’s Hall of Fame.

In the middle of January 1944, the battalion moved from Tidworth by rail to Wales. There, in Nissen huts, the men were to spend the remainder of their time and training in the British Isles. The campsite was beautiful—situated on the spacious park in front of the castle, it lay beside the Glanusk River surrounded on all sides by the Welsh mountains.

Though picturesque and inspiring to the artistic eye, the mountains were a marked source of irritation and discomfort to the men in the training that followed. Day after day, night after night, almost every peak and crest of each mountain was scaled and maneuvered upon by the battalion. It was here that the men first maneuvered with tanks, with live ammunition on field exercises, and entered into competition with forces of the British Home Guard on combat courses. The vigorous training endured prior to the competitive maneuvers really paid off and the record of the 99th was further enhanced in the eyes of the Welsh people by its marked proficiency in these contests.

In the latter part of April, the battalion was accorded the singular honor of furnishing the select group which was to guard invasion plans at First U.S. Army Headquarters then located in Bristol. Fifty-two men were especially picked for this task and they soon gained praise from the highest officers at the headquarters for their smart appearance and their efficiency. They were commonly mis-named “The Swedish Guard.”

On the first day of May the remainder of the battalion left Glanusk Park for a camp at Ludlow near Hereford in England. Here for more than a month training continued, but through it all there was the general feeling that “something big was up this time.” On June 10, hot on the heels of the invasion in France, the 99th was alerted for immediate movement. The battalion arrived the same afternoon at Uffculme and now they really “sweated it out” for a few days until the movement to Plymouth for embarkation was ordered. After donning their impregnated, gas-proof clothing and eating their last good meal for a long time, the men of the 99th left the shores of England on June 17.

The crossing was rough, and life was anything but pleasant aboard flat-bottomed LCIs. Due to bad weather they were unable to land as scheduled and were forced to lay offshore for a few days until it was considered possible to land. Meanwhile the first taste of real war came with the first boom of artillery in the near distance and the sight of dogfights overhead. Finally, on June 21, the 99th landed on the bleak, shell-torn shores of Omaha Beach in France.

Under Fire

The first night in France was spent in Transit Area number three, approximately 3 miles inland. All about the bivouac area was strewn the wreckage of war and in the distance the sky was constantly aglow with the reflection of a terrific artillery barrage. The men were dispersed tactically and slit-trenches were dug with a gusto never found in the previous “dry-runs.” K-rations—the inevitable—were produced. As night fell the men crawled into their holes for the first night on the soil of France.

On the following day the battalion was transported by truck to Colombières and attached to the Provisional Ranger Group, First U.S. Army. The next few days were spent in re-checking equipment and ammunition and in listening to occasional talks on battle experiences by various unit commanders. On June 29, the unit moved to St. Joseph on the Cherbourg Peninsula and the following day entered Cherbourg. Here for the next nine days the unit was attached to the Fourth Port Headquarters and helped secure the city. After Cherbourg had been secured the unit helped guard various military installations against possible sabotage from bypassed German troops or regular saboteurs.

Moving to a new location, Hau de Haut,3 8 miles south of Cherbourg, the 99th in conjunction with the Second and Fifth Ranger Battalions and the 759th Light Tank Battalion patrolled the area of Cherbourg Peninsula between Cherbourg and Valognes from the 8th through the 25th of July. In addition, the security patrols also checked the area for enemy materials, ammunition, casualties, and bypassed enemy personnel.

From July 25 to August 10, the battalion conducted night-firing exercises, field problems and training with the 759th Light Tank Battalion, then on August 11, set up a general defense of the town of Buais. On August 14 the unit became attached to the famous 2nd Armored Division and was assigned to Combat Command “B” of that division for a mission. However, this mission was canceled, and the unit was again thrown into Division Reserve. Until August 19 front-line training was given in the function of armored infantry by the 41st Armored Infantry and included demonstrations in roadblocks, proper use of artillery, and proper use of communications within an armored division.

On August 20 the 99th, still with Division Reserve, moved up to Toureuvre and established roadblocks. Immediately upon completion of these blocks a heavy concentration of enemy artillery started to fall and continued intermittently throughout the entire night. The next day a mine accident killed two enlisted men and wounded one officer and 10 other enlisted men. The 22nd found the battalion once again on the move to Beit where roadblocks were once more set up, but this time the enemy was retreating and reorganizing and no organized resistance was encountered. However, the advance detail of the unit upon entering the town of Le Failly made contact with a fairly large force of Germans and was forced to withdraw for reserves. The town was captured by Division Reserve and over 150 prisoners were taken.

Movement was made to Cesseville on the following day where the inevitable roadblocks were established. Functioning for the time as armored infantry attached to the 2nd Armored Division, the 99th had more than its share of these ticklish assignments. During the night of August 24, 14 prisoners were captured. Despite heavy strafing and bombing attacks by enemy fighters and light bombers on the blocks, no casualties were suffered by the battalion and the men were commended on the increasing efficiency with which they conducted these new assignments. They had now undergone, however slightly, their initial “baptism of fire” and were emerging as seasoned and hardened fighters prepared to meet the vicious infighting yet to come.

Elbeuf

On August 25 the battalion was alerted for an attack on the woods immediately south of the town of Elbeuf with the final objective being the entire south side of the town. Despite heavy artillery fire from the north side of the Seine River and much small arms fire from the front and flanks, the 99th advanced rapidly and entered the town at 1600 hours. In the town itself there followed a furious round of house-to-house fighting. It was discovered that the German defenders had several medium tanks in the town and, because they were considered more than a match for infantry, a request for tank destroyers was immediately relayed back. The unit was informed that they could not arrive for at least two hours, so it pushed forward in the face of mortar, artillery, tank, and small arms fire to take the final objective—the town of Elbeuf—at 1635 hours.

The battalion command post was set up within the town with a rear command post and reserve on the high ground to the south of the town. A determined counterattack was launched by the enemy on the northwest section of the city but was driven off after hard fighting and with the help of the tank destroyers which had arrived to help stem the tank attack in the nick of time. At least four Nazi tanks were personally accounted for by the 99th before the TDs arrived.

On the morning of August 26, the command post was heavily shelled and destroyed, taking a heavy toll of officers. Among the injured was battalion commander Lt. Colonel R. G. Turner. The command of the battalion was then taken over by Major Harold D. Hansen who was at that time executive officer. At 1700 hours of the same day all organized small arms fire ceased; however, the Germans continued to throw in mortar and artillery fire from the north side of the Seine River. Eighty-six prisoners were taken by the 99th against a loss of nine officers wounded, seven enlisted men killed, and 41 wounded. At 1800 hours on the 26th the unit was relieved by the Canadians and went into bivouac at St. Croix de Martin.

Two days later the unit became attached to Combat Command A of the 2nd Armored Division for another attack on the morning of August 30. Six more objectives were taken with only negligible enemy resistance encountered. The final objective was the woods north of the town of Villers in orthies4 and on the evening of the same day the unit command post was established in that town and the final objective was secured. On the same date the unit was relieved from attachment to the Second Armored Division and attached to the Seventh Armored Group, XIX Corps Reserve. The following day the 99th moved to Drucourt where it bivouacked and established local security.

Here, for a few days, the battalion rested while performing routine duties. Safe from artillery fire, eating warm food, and receiving replacements, many of the men had their first full night’s sleep in many weeks. On September 6 the unit was again alerted and moved from La Glanerie to Mons, Belgium, with the mission of securing the city. Immediately upon arrival roadblocks were set up and the city patrolled. The following day the unit relieved the 16th Infantry Regiment of the 1st Division and continued patrolling in the vicinity of Mons.

On September 8 the 99th moved to Valenciennes in France for the purpose of securing the First Army sector against probable attack by an enemy pocket in the British sector to the north and west of Valenciennes. For the next four days the unit conducted motorized and foot patrols in the immediate vicinity of Mons and Valenciennes. Seventeen prisoners of war were taken during this period.

The 99th was attached to 2nd Armored Division’s Task Force Stokes in mid-September 1944. The battalion’s riflemen rode tanks of the 66th Armored Regiment during the Canal Drive. Members of the Milissen family sit on the medical jeep, while Maria Kuypers and her dog Fikkie look on in the newly liberated village of Boorsheim (Boorsem) around September 17. (Courtesy Karsten Conaert, Mrs. Lisa Jansen collection)

Canal Drive

On September 14, A and B Companies were attached to Combat Command “A” of the 2nd Armored Division for another mission. At the same time the remainder of the unit moved to a point 1½ miles west of Mechelen, Belgium. The following day C Company was attached to the 2nd Battalion of the 66th Armored Regiment and at 1700 hours moved up to secure Reckheim. Accompanying it in the attack were five light tanks and six medium tanks. In the face of intense mortar and artillery fire, the unit advanced doggedly to its objective. The tanks proved invaluable in neutralizing machine gun emplacements, strong points, and snipers. Meanwhile, A, B, and D Companies moved forward and crossed the Willems Vaart Canal to support the attack. They too met concentrated fire from numerous well-prepared positions and pillboxes but advanced swiftly to secure their objectives despite the stubborn resistance. One officer and one enlisted man were killed during the night’s operations and one officer and 14 enlisted men were wounded. Fourteen prisoners of war were taken.

After securing its positions the battalion once again moved into the attack. At 1700 hours, with B and C Companies leading, A Company in reserve, and D Company supporting the leading elements, the 99th kicked off. Light and medium tanks of the 66th Armored Regiment supported the attack and once more were indispensable in clearing up enemy strong points and other fortifications. The resistance encountered was bitter and determined but the attack was of the same caliber. It was here that an officer in the armored force was heard to say, “This is the only damned infantry outfit in the world that tanks have to worry about keeping up with.” Again, the objectives were taken, and the battalion reorganized and held strong points to meet the never-failing counterattack. Estimated casualties for this last attack by the 99th numbered 40 enlisted men. One hundred and eleven prisoners were taken.

Simultaneously, units of the 66th Armored Regiment continued to attack and secured their objectives in conjunction with the initial assault plan. With the forming of this line the assigned mission of the operation was completed and the 99th was released from assignment to the 2nd Armored Division. Immediately the 744th Light Tank Battalion was assigned to assist in establishing security of strong points. Casualties for the operations from September 16 through 18 for the 99th were one officer killed, two officers wounded, eight enlisted men killed, 75 enlisted men wounded, and 10 enlisted men missing. A later count located all the missing men. During this period 440 prisoners were taken.

From September 18 to 28 the battalion’s front lines were reinforced by over 300 Belgian F.I.Some more text with a footnote.5 These men proved to be invaluable to the unit because of their work behind the enemy lines, sabotage, and information obtained by them through espionage activities. They also served as guards to handle the Nazi sympathizers and prisoners within their districts.

A strong enemy counterattack was reported to be forming to the battalion’s direct front the morning of September 20. However, the concentrated and accurate fire of the unit’s 81mm mortars, combined with artillery support on the right, and the British artillery on the left, discouraged the attack almost at the beginning and the enemy withdrew to the vicinity of Roermond. For the remainder of the time on the line activity was limited to patrol clashes and artillery fire.

The 99th was relieved by the 7th Armored Division and moved to the vicinity of Eupen in Belgium. On September 30 the unit moved to a bivouac area near Montzen where the men rested, ate hot food, and had entertainment “when it was available.” Rain, falling almost incessantly on an area which was a sea of mud and water, made the encampment far from pleasant to the ordinary eye but to the tired men the place was perfect. During the rest period the companies maintained supply, tended and cleaned all equipment, fired new weapons, and adjusted weapons which had malfunctioned in the previous operation.

This life of safety and comparative ease was brought to an abrupt halt on October 12 when the battalion was attached to XIX Corps and moved into Germany near the town of Marienberg. Four days later the unit moved up to Herzogenrath where it was attached to the 30th Infantry Division. On the same day it moved up to Würselen where the mission was to attack and close the gap between the XIX Corps and the VII Corps. The town of Würselen was located just outside Aachen and part of the mission was to close the Aachen-Cologne highway to prevent the Germans from escaping along this important road.

Würselen

The battle of Würselen was, and always will be, a nightmare to the members of the unit who participated in it and were lucky enough to come out of the affair alive. For nine days and nights in the face of a continual and accurate concentration of artillery, mortar, and point-blank tank fire, they attacked daily, were counterattacked and outnumbered, driven from their hard-won positions only to surge back and retake them. The enemy, fighting savagely to keep this last escape route open, threw everything in the book at the Americans during this showdown battle. The men were fighting side by side with other famous fighting units, the 30th Division, the 1st Division, and the 29th Division.

On the first day of the battle, October 16, the 99th moved up to the attack in the face of a murderous crossfire from well-fixed enemy positions. Concrete pillboxes, dug-in-tanks, and many foxholes on the commanding ground gave the enemy a tremendous advantage over the advancing force. In spite of this, the day’s mission was accomplished and the objectives secured before nightfall. During the night and in the early morning positions were bombed and strafed by enemy planes. The next day the enemy counterattacked in strength, supported by tanks. Elements of the 99th were temporarily dislodged but succeeded in reorganizing quickly and re-took their original positions. Meanwhile the Germans massed their artillery and zeroed in on all positions, shelling them day and night without pause except when they were attacking. The largest force of enemy artillery in the entire sector attempted to blast open an escape route through the unit, but like their determined counterattacks, they were doomed to failure. Each night enemy fighter planes and light bombers dropping anti-personnel bombs and strafing the 99th’s positions added to the din and uproar of bursting shells.

Contact was established with the 116th Infantry and the 18th Infantry Regiment on the following day. Once again, the enemy counterattacked viciously with more men and heavier tanks but this time there was no ground lost. Despite the fact that enemy tanks were firing point-blank into the foxholes they were repulsed with heavy losses. As the Germans withdrew their artillery again opened up, coupling its activity with night visits from the Luftwaffe.

During the entire operation food, water, and ammunition were extremely difficult to deliver to forward areas because of accurate enemy observation. Even during the hours of darkness men bringing up supplies were shelled with amazing accuracy. To the men lying in the cold, sticky mud of their foxholes under constant attack this was but another grim discomfort with which to cope. Sleep was virtually an impossibility during the nine days, and with the cold rain, incessant shelling, lack of food and water, and perpetual counterattacks, the growing tension was beginning to tell on the hardiest of them.

For the next few days, slight advances were made, and combat patrols were successfully conducted. The original mission had been accomplished and the all-important gap had been closed—it remained closed. For nine full days the 99th had held in the face of the best in determined and desperate German attempts to break out of the Aachen trap. On October 24 at 1730 hours the 99th was formally relieved by elements of the 116th and 119th Infantry of the 30th Division.

After remaining in reserve for a few days the unit moved to the vicinity of Henri-Chapelle, Belgium, for a well-earned rest. The final prisoner count for the period of October 16 to 24 was 105 enemy soldiers. Combat exhaustion constituted the major part of the casualties in this operation; however, there were five officers wounded, two officers killed, 26 enlisted men killed, 40 enlisted men wounded, and four missing.

The 99th Infantry Battalion (Separate) was billeted in the vicinity of Henri-­Chapelle, Belgium, from November 1 to 25, 1944. During this period a training program was set up which included firing of weapons, conditioning marches, and training films. This time, due to inclement weather, the men were quartered in farmhouses and barns; steady rain, high winds, and the cold made it far from pleasant. Eating outdoors, most of the time the meal resolved itself into a race to eat the food before it was blown out of the mess kits. Deep mud and manure furnished an interesting mixture for the men to plod through whenever they left the smelly, damp confines in which they were housed. At night the men huddled about the few stoves in the area and vainly tried to dry their shoes or warm themselves in the fire’s feeble glow. A few lucky men were allotted passes to Liège or Paris, but the quota was small. All in all, it was definitely “nothing to write home about.”

On November 25 the unit was delighted to move to Tilff, Belgium, with a mission to serve as reserve for the Army area against enemy airborne attack, infiltration tactics, and guerrilla warfare. One company was billeted in St. Hubert, Belgium, to guard two enemy ammunition dumps and main supply routes “X,” “Y,” and “Z.” The rest of the battalion conducted foot and mechanized patrols over large areas and guarded vital installations. In many cases separate patrols were stationed and quartered far from the battalion command post and carried their own kitchen, medics, and supplies, each operating as individual units. Work was interesting, quarters usually good, and food plentiful—in short, it was a “good deal.”

Elements of Task Force Hansen arrived in Malmedy on December 17, 1944, relieving Lt. Col. Pergrin’s 291st Engineer Battalion. Here markings on the two jeep trailers in the town square that read “1A 99I” identify First U.S. Army’s 99th Infantry Battalion, and the “D” on the right side confirms Company D, the heavy weapons company, with a M1917 water-cooled heavy machine gun mounted on the dashboard. The half-track to the left could belong to 526th Armored Infantry Battalion, also part of Task Force Hansen. (Courtesy of the Minnesota Military and Veterans Museum)

Ardennes

On the fateful day of December 17, 1944, the Ardennes offensive was launched. The battalion was alerted and proceeded immediately by truck from Tilff to Malmedy to check the advance of the onrushing German hordes in that sector. Task Force Hansen, consisting of the 526th Armored Infantry Battalion, B Company of the 825th Tank Destroyer Battalion, and the 99th lnfantry Battalion (Separate), was formed for this mission. Malmedy was completely bereft of Allied forces on Sunday, December 17 except for approximately 60 engineer troops who had chosen to stay and attempt to hold the enemy until combat troops could be moved up.

Into the still, rainy darkness of this almost deserted town moved the 99th, immediately aware of the unfriendly attitude of the inhabitants. From darkened windows and doorways, the pro-Nazi population watched silently, smirking and secure in the knowledge that this mere handful of men could not stop the picked forces of the great von Rundstedt. Had they not been told that this was the turning point of the war? That this was the long-awaited knock-out blow of the disorganized, yet hitherto victorious, rabble that constituted the American armies in the field? Had not the gigantic successes achieved in the previous few hours more than assured them of their ultimate victory? And now a handful of soldiers arrive, uncertain even of the situation, to halt this mighty offensive.

Reconnaissance of all the likely approaches to the city was made at once and the battalion was placed in defense of the city—holding roadblocks and occupying the high ground around the city. The engineers had mined most of the approaches and felled trees across the road to halt the approaching enemy armor, yet these would have proven inconsequential without other support. Needless to say, they welcomed the arrival of the infantry with joy and relief. The first night was spent in digging-in and then crouching wide-eyed in the rain to await the then supposed inevitable attack.

The attack, however, did not immediately materialize and the following day was spent in improving defensive positions and conducting combat and reconnaissance patrols. Because of the congested roads, caused by evacuation of great quantities of materiel and personnel from threatened areas, the arrival of the 117th Infantry Regiment of the 30th Division was held up considerably, but finally came about at 1830 hours on the 18th and the defense of the town was supplemented and coordinated.

Prior to the arrival of reinforcements, minor patrol clashes had occurred. On December 18 at 1645 hours, three Germans with two American prisoners on the front of a jeep approached one of the roadblocks, evidently thinking that the town had already fallen. The jeep had been taken from the 106th Division, one of the units over-run in this vast surprise offensive. As they approached, one of the Americans leaped off the hood and shouted out that the jeep was full of Germans. Before the vehicle could be turned about it was captured and one of the Germans was killed trying to escape. The captured men were members of the 1st SS Division—the enemy had been identified. A few hours later a small enemy patrol was completely wiped out by outposts in a successful ambush. The dead were identified as members of the same SS division.

Later, during the same evening, one battalion of the 120th Infantry Regiment, of the 30th Division, came up to take positions with the 99th in the vicinity of Malmedy. Enemy parachutists were dropped ½ mile west of the town but were never contacted.

On the afternoon of December 19 the rest of the battalion withdrew ½ mile to the northwest of Malmedy while B Company remained in position. The company remaining in position fought off patrols and on the 20th changed positions with B Company of the 120th Regiment. The change was effected during the hours of darkness. B Company of the 99th dug in along the top of a railway embankment about 15 feet in height and covered a front of about 1,000 yards. Directly in front lay a broad field flanked by heavily wooded hills. The field covered an expanse of about 500 yards before it reached the trees and the approaches to it were deep draws in the mountains. The field of fire was excellent, and the entire position was ideal for defense. The riflemen and machine gunners were dug in at the top of the embankment and directly behind them were the light mortars of the weapons platoon protected by the embankment. Back along the edge of the town were heavy machine guns and anti-tank guns trained on the two underpasses which were dynamited, at a later date, to impair passage of enemy tanks attempting to break through. At the time of the initial attack each of the underpasses was covered by an anti-tank gun which was drawn up with its nose practically protruding through this breach in the battalion defenses.

All night the men shivered in their foxholes. An attack was imminent, and the order and information was issued to every man that there would be no retreat as the position could not be lost at any cost. At 0655 hours, on the morning of December 21, the enemy tried its sneak attack; however, the lead columns hit some of the unit’s mines and outposts streamed back with the information of the coming attack. The unit did not have long to wait. Across the field streamed enemy tanks and infantrymen firing and shouting as they came. Captured American tanks and enemy tanks poured a heavy fire into unit positions and enemy machine guns opened up from prepared positions in the nearby woods. B Company cut loose with everything it had and the light caused by the flying and ricocheting tracers was enough to light up the surrounding terrain. Several times the enemy tanks and infantry surged to the very base of the embankment to be driven back with grenade and small arms fire. Soon one of the unit’s TD guns, with its crew, was knocked out and the enemy tanks, growing bolder, moved back and forth within 20 feet of the embankment pouring point—blank cannon fire into the positions. Enemy machine gunners—paying an awful price—advanced and set up positions directly in front and on the flanks and poured a concentrated fire upon the defenders. The attack was fanatical in its fury. With continual cries of “Surrender or die” the pride of Adolf Hitler died in front of the unit’s positions.

Meanwhile, the unit’s artillery opened up on the enemy rear with a terrific barrage and the light mortars took a terrible toll in front of the railroad tracks. Reluctantly the enemy withdrew, carrying as many of their dead and wounded as possible from the field and into the protection of the deep woods. During the action three prisoners were taken, two from the famous 11th Parachute Regiment, the other a member of the infamous 1st SS Division. Now the unit knew why the attack had been so fanatical. To take this important town the German High Command had thrown its very best into the gamble—they were good, but not good enough.

In the cold gray dawn the success of the defense of Malmedy by the 99th was counted in the twisted bodies lying in front of the embankment and in the smoking ruins of the tanks knocked out by the two remaining TD guns. The tired men rubbed their red-rimmed eyes, reloaded their guns, and waited for another attack; the German super-troops had many wounds to lick before they came out of the deep woods for another try at the town of Malmedy. The prisoners stated that they had Tiger and Panther tanks as well as much American equipment and that it was their mission to destroy the defending force, destroy the artillery positions, and capture the railroad crossing southeast of Malmedy.

The immediate return attack, however, did not materialize and the remainder of the morning was spent in bringing up ammunition and supplies. Foxholes were improved to resist the coming enemy artillery barrage and probable air attack. The same morning patrols were sent out to determine the damage inflicted upon the enemy and two jeeps and one armored car were retrieved from the field of battle. The flanks of the 99th were secured by patrol action and positions were once more stabilized. More American artillery was moved up plus anti-aircraft, armored units, and tank destroyers. One platoon of the 740th Medium Tank Battalion was attached to Task Force Hansen and remained in the battalion’s area. That night 30th Division Headquarters reported the possibility of an airborne attack and another sleepless night was spent on the alert. Meanwhile, enemy artillery incessantly shelled the unit’s positions, vainly endeavoring to zero in on the crest of the track and knock out defenses. American artillery answered and the night was alive with shellfire.

The next few days were spent in “sweating out” another enemy attack and dodging the heavy German artillery fire which fell steadily in and around the positions. Enemy air activity was fairly constant, and many dogfights took place overhead. It was during this time that due to poor information large formations of American medium bombers attacked the town of Malmedy on two occasions with devastating results. Many American casualties resulted, and the town was reduced to ruins. Snow had fallen and the cold was severe, adding to the suffering of the tired soldiers on the line.

Christmas Day was spent in frozen foxholes and Christmas dinner consisted of a K-ration. At the time it was impossible to bring up hot food and the report came down that Christmas dinner was being saved until the unit was relieved for a rest period. The strain was beginning to tell on the men. Two weeks had already gone by without sleep, hot food, or being able to wash or shave and still no relief in sight. The Germans were still cutting deep into Belgium far behind unit lines and the information that trickled down to the line was vague and optimistic. Each night furious artillery duels took place over unit positions with American guns hurling as many as 3,000 rounds during the hours of darkness.

At 1600 hours on December 27, Company C kicked off on a commando raid on the enemy-held town of Hedamont.6 Prior to the surprise attack it was ably supported by an artillery concentration in conjunction with the operation. The attack was successful in as much as the opposing units were positively identified, their positions located, one prisoner taken, and at least 30 Germans killed.

On December 29, Company B raided the town of Otaimont. Supported by artillery and 81mm mortar fire, the men swept into the town with fixed bayonets only to find that the enemy had withdrawn. During the entry of the town a heavy concentration of enemy artillery and machine gun fire harassed the unit. Fortunately, the casualties were extremely light, and the men withdrew in good order, despite heavy Nebelwerfer fire “zeroed in” on the escape route.

From January 1 to 6, the 99th occupied front-line defense positions on the outskirts of Malmedy. Patrol action was common and enemy artillery and rocket fire fairly heavy. Enemy troops who had been wounded in the initial attack or during clashes often came into the lines to surrender because of the intense cold that persisted during this period. During the nights German combat troops dressed in white camouflage suits raided forward positions without success. These nuisance raids together with the cold of the foxholes served to exhaust the men more than did artillery fire or lack of warm food.

On the evening of January 6, the battalion was moved to the vicinity of Stavelot in another sector of the front and its old positions at Malmedy were taken over by elements of the 30th Division. The new positions were in a deep pine woods and the unit’s thin line was within shouting distance of German defenses. Combat patrols were continually on the move and clashes with enemy units were frequent. Nights were dark, the woods deep, and heavy snow made action exceedingly difficult on both sides despite the proximity of the positions. The enemy was well supplied with skis and other winter equipment and their sector was heavily fortified. The Jerries had heavy concentrations of Nebelwerfers, mortars, and artillery in direct support of defensive and offensive action. Despite this, the 99th took over offensive action and retained the initiative throughout this phase of the campaign.

The first offensive action in the new positions took place on January 10. Enemy positions were attacked with marked success by the second platoon of A Company and many Germans were killed, wounded, or taken prisoner. Resisting violently with mortar and small arms fire, the enemy was driven from its positions and well-camouflaged foxholes. The attack was in the nature of a raid and after driving the enemy back the unit withdrew.

The second platoon of Company A again attacked the same sector, which the enemy had re-occupied, but with less success, the following day. Hand-to-hand fighting followed and the Americans were pinned down by concentrations of enemy mortar, machine gun, and artillery fire. Almost surrounded, the platoon fought back savagely with grenades and bayonets until it had a chance to withdraw with only fairly heavy losses.

The following day elements of the 99th once more attacked in the same sector, Chevofosse, which, according to the prisoners, was strongly outposted and fortified to prevent patrols from infiltrating across the bridge into Thieux. Once again, through a hail of mortar and artillery fire, the Americans attacked and finally knocked out the enemy command post. Again, the Germans resisted fanatically from the comparative security of their well-dug-in positions but to no avail—with grenades and rifle fire they were driven from their holes to be killed or taken prisoner. On the same day, the 119th Infantry Regiment of the 30th Division attacked from the vicinity of Malmedy and across the unit’s left front. The battalion supported the attack with heavy machine gun and 81 mm mortar fire. During the attack, the enemy heavily shelled unit positions, causing some casualties. The Germans knew the terrain which the unit was occupying, and their artillery was accurate; because the terrain was so heavily wooded enemy mortar and artillery fire was particularly devastating due to tree-bursts.

On January 15 the 517th Parachute Regiment, attacking on the unit’s right front, and the 119th Regiment of the 30th Division, attacking on the left front, finally squeezed the 99th out of the front line. Once again, the battalion supported the attack with mortar and heavy machine gun fire, and once again it sweated out the incoming barrage thrown by the desperate enemy. For the next few days, the battalion maintained its positions in this sector and conducted patrols to search out bypassed enemy units or missing men of the unit—both were found.

After 31 days of continuous fighting, living in snowy fox-holes at sub-zero temperatures, and being under unrelenting artillery fire and observation by the enemy, the tired, bearded men of the 99th were formally relieved from their front­line positions on January 18. The danger was over and the forces of von Rundstedt were being hammered back into Germany with appalling losses. Heavy losses had also been suffered by the battalion, but it had not once faltered in its given task; it had fulfilled the mission and had added further praise and glory to its already sterling record.

Then came Tilff and for three days the unit rested, ate hot food, and squeezed out an occasional cognac at the local bar. A bath and a shave were a treat to the men, and they made the most of the opportunity. On the morning of January 22, the battalion boarded a train for the long trip back to the coast of France.

1. Howard R. Bergen. “The History of the 99th Infantry Battalion (Separate).” Oslo: Emil Moestue, 1946.
2. This statement was made by the author and not verifiable at the time. It is a claim similar to many others that soldiers made to each other about their war experiences.
3. The author may have meant Hameau de Haut.
4. The author may have meant Villers-en-Arthies.
5. It is assumed chat the author means the Belgian resistance fighters.
6. Unclear what location Hedamont corresponds to currently.

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