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An Anti-Tank Infantryman Speaks Out

By Ken Aladeen 

We received a replacement late in the war, maybe March or April 1945.  He was a corporal and had been a small arms instructor at O.C.S. in Fort Benning GA.  I can't remember his name - something like Wilson.  He entered our squad as low man on the totem pole.  It might have been degrading for a corporal to assume the position of an ammo bearer, but he took it very well.  We all liked him all the more for his good attitude.  He made quite a fuss over the .50 caliber machine gun that was mounted on a "ring mount" above the assistant drivers seat on our truck.  It was there for anti-aircraft protection but after firing it a few times we learned that the posts supporting the ring (inside of which the gunner stood to fire the gun) were not adequate too hold the gun steady.  As a result, if you forgot to take off your helmet before you fired it, it would send the darned thing flying.  Also, it was impossible to stay on a target with that flexible mount.  As a result the gun saw very little use.  We had a tripod for it so that it might be used on the ground also.  We felt strongly that using .the .50 cal. would detract from our effectiveness as an AT gun crew.  This day as we approached the MLR to set up our 57 MM a GI flagged us down. He said that there was a tank or self propelled 88MM gun invisible in the tree line directly in front of us.  Strangely, there were two German observers exposed in front of the tree line.  Heavy weapons H Company told us that the range was 1080 yards.  Once again, too far for our small arms.  Wilson was adamant about getting the .50 cal. off of the truck.  This meant we also had to dig out the tripod, which had never been used.  After some consternation, we got the gun set up.  Wilson adjusted the sights and locked everything down on the tripod.  I asked him how he was going to follow two moving men with the gun locked rigid.  He said that he would just wait until they got in his sights.  The idea didn't appeal to me but we didn't wait long.  When he felt like he had a good target he yelled at me to get down and he hit the butterfly (trigger).  No one bothered to count the rounds, but it was generally agreed that it probably wasn't over 25 and the results were perfect.  Both observers were killed and almost immediately the blinded tank, or whatever, left.  The attack resumed, and the rest of the day was like any other for that time.  Later it seemed that Wilson, or whatever his name was, should have gotten some sort of a decoration.  He actually single-handedly routed a piece of German armor when a whole battalion was helpless to do anything about it.  He left us soon after that and I've never heard any more about the event.

I've never seen a Northrop P-61 Black widow fighter, but on that inky night about New Years Day, 1945 I was within a few thousand feet of one.  For some reason we were never able to fathom, the Luftwaffe had a nightly fly-over by a ME-109.  It never circled, never strafed, never seemed to have a mission.  There was no mistaking the soft mellow exhaust of their engines.  By comparison, our planes had a sharp crack to them and were easily identified.  It didn't matter.  We never had fighters aloft at night anyway.  At least we didn't think we did.  We had finished our mission at Bastogne and were moving south back to the 3rd Army front.  There was a lot of confusion.  Area assignments were not clearly defined.  Responsibilities overlapped.  Communication lines were duplicated.  And it was cold.  Everything was covered with snow.  We didn't set up our 57MM.  It was dark when the column stopped and would still be dark when we moved out for Luxembourg.    True to form, the nightly fly over was heard.  "Bed-check Charlie" we called him.  Almost immediately behind the Messerschmidt we could hear the loud sharp crack of an American fighter.  Strange.  Even stranger was the short burst of machine gun fire, the groaning of ME109 climbing out, then in rapid succession the exploding German plane that gave plenty of light to see the pilot hanging from his parachute and the mortar firing a star shell, which also descended on a parachute.  One of our rifle companies was standing, as if with outstretched arms, waiting for the guy to hit the ground.  He was brought immediately to our HQ Co. so that S-2 could interrogate him.  He wanted to know what kind of ground fire we had that could bring him down under such impossible conditions.  When we told him he had been shot down by one of our fighters he scoffed at the idea.  Considered it impossible.  It was years before I learned about that P-61 Black Widow night fighter.  They were the first radar aimed air-to-air weapons in the world.  We were never briefed on their existence.  Never given flash cards for recognition.  And, indeed, in my case at least, never ever to see one.  It was a historic occasion we couldn't appreciate for years to come.