702nd Tank Battalion “Red Devils”

Rolling On

 

THE FALL OF EISENBERG

 

Anyone viewing the recently aired "War And Rememberance" must have had many lost memories retreived, some pleasant, some bitter and some both.  We bring you the tale of one such bitter-sweet day of rememberance.

 

After leaving Weimar on 12 April 1945 (and the infamous Buchenwald, an unforgettably bitter memory to all who were there), "Red Devil-Dog One" and Lt. Wagner's 80th Recon., 1st Platoon moved eastward providing flank contact between the 80th and 76th Division’s.  On 14 April, in early morning, we approached the town of Eisenberg (Iron mountain).  Stopping as usual, at the woods edge overlooking the town, we gave it a good look.  From about 400 yards away, Lt, Wagner and I watched the town awaken.  Through binoculars, we saw a lot of farm laborers going to the fields to begin the day’s work.  We agreed that they were obviously D.P.’s (displaced persons) wearing mostly rags, and only a few townspeople.  The important item was that we saw nothing military, no uniforms, no vehicles and no weapons. 

 

Advising Battalion by radio, we were told to go on in.  We did so, right into the village square.  Not a shot was fired and a crowd of D.P.’s formed around the tanks, cheering.  Assuming a defensive posture in the square, my gunner and a couple of men from tank #2 moved into the town-hall ( I have since learned that this is called the "Rathaus", properly named.), seeking the Burgermeister.  This building was at pavement-level, with large windows, and I know that they had seen us.  Inside the main-door we found a door marked "Polazi", opened the door and found our mayor and the chief of police, with a couple of men (his entire force) inside.  They were waiting for us, hands overhead, weapons on a nearby desk.  Confiscating the weapons, we began to give the mayor the usual orders to collect all weapons and ammo and cameras and film, and to wait for the main body of troops just behind us.  The Chief sat at the desk taking notes, the others standing behind him.  We were in various corners of the room, watching them and the open door.  

 

 

Suddenly, through one of the large open casement windows there came a shout of "hans oop" followed by Norm Stahl, my bow gunner and constant body guard.  He leaped through the windows, M-1 at the ready and seeing us for the first time, began to laugh.  I asked him how it felt to capture some of his own platoon, and, some Germans at the same time.  He didn't know we were in the room. He had glanced in the window, seen uniforms, and done his duty (He said).  To this day, I'm not sure if he had seen us and thought we needed help or had’nt seen us and was after some glory and “spoils of war”.  At our last meetings, at Dunbar in June, he still wouldn’t tell me!  While all this was taking place, a couple of D.P.’s. had been talking to our slavic-speaking crewman and reported that there were soldiers at a school building outside town, guarding a lot of prisoners.  Lt.  Wagner agreed to hold while we went to investigate.  Taking one tank and 5 or 6 extra men, we moved southward out of town with our D.P. guide giving directions. 

 

Approaching a large two-story stone building we slowed but seeing no activity we moved closer.  Placing the tank to cover the front of the building and the main entrance (and the sides), we formed two parties on foot.  Our guide took one group around the left side, to where he said the gymnasium doors were.  I decided to quietly move around the right side, in case anyone tried to escape the group.  On the right side of the building there were a couple of steps leading to a door.  Up the steps, through the unlocked door, I was in a corridor with more doors to the left.  Not a sound.  Trusty pistol (Belgian 38mm)!  I tried the knob of door #10, and it turned.  Throwing the door open and stepping to one side, I looked into a small office.  Stepping in, I discovered that I was not alone!  Three elderly men in uniforms were standing, hands overhead against the wall.  Waving the pistol toward the door and shouting "Rausgehen" got them moving. 

 

I followed them outside, ordered "lines" and they moved around the corner to the rear of the school and there we met the rest of the party. They were standing at two large doors, locked, and were deciding what to do.  One of the Germans had keys and unlocked the doors.  Somewhere in this string of events, one of the men pointed out to me that my pistol was still "on safe".  

 

This is the end of the happy humorous portion of this tale, for as the doors were opened we, and we moved a few feet to some inner doors, we could smell filth and death and heard moaning and crying for help.  When these doors were unlocked and opened we again, (after Buchenwald, two days earlier) saw the fruits of man's inhumanity to man.  Inside the room ( the gymnasium) of about 30 by 60 feet, were packed roughly 1,500 people.  They were standing and were literally packed like sardines.  They had been moved from a camp further eastward to avoid freeing by the Russian advance and were mostly political prisoners.  In a few short minutes we heard their story from a few of the stronger present. They had been moving on foot, for a week.  They had little food and water, and no medical attention.  Arriving in Eisenberg, they had been crammed into this room of the school two days earlier, they thought.  The Germans verified this.  Two days without food, water, medical aid, or sanitary facilities!  As we talked, some of the stronger carried three dead and several very weak and sick out into the air and sunshine.  One man seemed to be in the best condition and had assumed leadership.  We gave him what rations we had on the tank, and told him to keep the group at this place and help would soon arrive.  As we tried to leave, many of the former prisoners tried to follow us, crying with joy and relief, and clinging to our clothing.  I will never forget that crying, praying, thanking mass of opressed humanity.  With some difficulty and great reluctance we left our prisoners on the tank.  We now had about a dozen, for the party going to the left had found several detailed guards at the rear doors.  Back at the village square we turned over the prisoners, locking them in the only cell and told the Chief of Police he would be shot if they were to escape.  We radioed to battalion headquarters of our findings and asked for immediate aid for the group at the school.  We were assured this would be done and were ordered to move on, which we did.  About a half-hour later we got a message from the troops following us.  Arriving in Eisenberg during a minor riot, the stronger of our released prisoners were raiding the stores in search of food.  The final word, our prisoners were two staff-grade S.S. officers, one high ranking Volkstrum officer, and eight over-age-in-grade German guards.  None of us ever saw Eisenberg again and probably will not , it is in the Russian Zone!

 

Milt Still 7 December, 1988 (Pearl Harbor Day)

 

 

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