July 3- Co C to La Besneville, Co A to St. Sauveur Le Vicomte
July 4- BN to St. Sauveur Le Vicomte, less Co C; Co C to La Rouge De Vas
July 5- Co A to Marcanville
July 6- Co C to Marcanville
July 10- BN to Osmansville near Isigny
August 6- BN moves through St. Lo
A convoy of U. S. equipment and men moving through a liberated town after being cleared by engineers. Photo: Harold Palmer
As the American troops slowly gained control of the Normandy towns and territory in July and August, the 300th supported the liberations by keeping the main supply routes open. They cleared mines, did road repair, constructed a railroad overpass, repaired buildings, cleared debris, created and operated a gravel pit and transported equipment. They also built bridges, a rotary traffic circle and bypasses.
Possible grave of German soldiers. Note the hole in helmet. Photo: Harold Palmer
Company A left their bivouac area at 1245 hours on 4 July at St. Sauveur le Vicomte, France and moved to St. Sauveur de Perre. They cleared roads and built an 80-foot, Class 40 Bailey Bridge. The first platoon stayed to guard the bridge while the second platoon cleared mines until 2300 hours.
Sgt. Robert R. Keleher and Pvt. Mark A. McGarvey were clearing these mines when one of the mines exploded. Both men were reported as MIA at 1600 hours near Le Haye du Puits. (Morning Report of 8 July, 1944). Keleher was listed later as KIA (Morning Report from 22 July 1944). Keleher, from Carmi, Illinois, was the "best buddy" of Forest Wood. Keleher's widow would write to Wood of this death sometime later according to the daughter of Forest Wood, Marie Wood Dowd.
An abandoned German tank with one of the men of the 300th, most likely in France. Photo: Harold Palmer
Pvt. McGarvey was assigned to the 300th from the 41st Replacement Battalion on 29 June, 1944 and his MOS (Military Occupation Specialty) was changed 4 July - interesting timing.
Both Keleher and McGarvey received Purple Hearts. (It can not be determined from records of the 300th if McGarvey was KIA, eventually returned to duty in the European Theatre or sent stateside due to injuries.)
One of the major battles was for the town of La Haye-du-Puits in early July in which the 300th played a critical role. The Germans had a great terrain advantage with a ring of hills around La Haye-du-Puits where they could defend the town while watching Allied force activity off the Allied-held beaches of Normandy.
Damaged German tank, most likely in France. Photo: Harold Palmer
The U.S. divisions of the VIII Corps led the attack on the town, each supported by an engineer battalion. In the center was the 82nd Airborne, supported by the 148th Engineers; the 90th on the east supported by the 207th Engineers and the 79th Division on the west supported by the 300th Engineers. The engineers led the attack as they moved out abreast in a drenching rain on July 3 clearing the narrow roads of mines and widening them creating two-way traffic.
The VIII Corps advanced forward in a flying wedge. The 82nd Airborne met little resistance as the German troops were eager to surrender. From these prisoners, engineers learned about German land mine use and applied that information in the area as they advanced toward La Haye-du-Puits.
TEC5 Alton A. Schmidt (right), driver for Co. A, 1st squad, 3rd platoon, with a destroyed Panther A tank (Panzerkampfwagen V, Ausführung A) of the Panzer Lehr Division in Normandy. Photo: Albert Stein
The 82nd gained its objective by July 7. The 79th was still holding the heights west of La Haye-du-Puits but had been unable to take the town as they encountered a higher caliber of German troops including the elite Waffen SS troops. Mines and booby traps planted by the Germans gave the 300th no relief.
On July 8, Col. Spengler wanted to establish if the town was cleared for engineer work and took a six-man patrol from the 79th Division entering the town from the west. He was last seen giving the all clear signal from the railroad bridge on the north side of town. Later reported captured, a search party was sent out and the colonel was found dead from enemy machine gun fire. The 300th had now lost two commanding officers in two weeks. Major Riel S. Crandall was given command of the 300th.
Kenneth "Cowboy" Morris recalls his commanding officers in Europe:
Maj. Crandall was a West Point guy. He would say, "Forget about your family, this is the Army and this is your family." We weren't as military as he was. We were only all just homesick. There was this Col. [Daniel] Spengler who was commander of the 1110th Engineer Combat Group where we were attached. Maj. [John] Tucker was an old buddy of his so Spengler got Crandall relieved of our command and gave the command to Tucker, his buddy. Spengler was going to win the war all by himself.
You know Maj. Tucker got killed because he thought he could win the war by himself just like Spengler. We were trying to build that bridge at Carentan and there was a tank zeroed in on us at the bridge. When the first round came in we scattered like a bunch of quails to get off that bridge. But Maj. Tucker forced us to go right back up on the bridge and go to work. Tucker got up on the bridge and said, "You can't win a war by running." So just about that time one of those cannons just about took his head off and he was killed instantly.
A little later in Normandy we went by this little town and that town was mined and booby-trapped. Spengler sent us in there at night with mine detectors to pick up mines and booby traps in the dark. We backed the trucks in and got the mine detectors out and the Germans were all around us. You could hear the rifles and burp guns. They zeroed in on the trucks because they could hear them running. They hit nearby and our men came running back saying let's get out of here. Spengler was on the other side of town and decided to go in by himself. He went into a machine gun nest and they ripped him apart and killed him. So that's when we got Crandall back and he was our commander for the rest of the war.
You know Crandall was so much real military. Much later we were surrounded in the Bulge and were just barely able to get back out of there and to the battalion headquarters. We got back about noon and you know that man Crandall met us with tears in his eyes. I always have had a lot of respect for him after that. We thought he's not the big tough guy we thought he was. He was just like the rest of us. Later on he would say that the 300th was his outfit even though he spent the rest of his career in the Army with other outfits.
The words of Lt. George Edgar of the 989th Engineer Treadway Bridge Company as recorded by his grandson David A. Armstrong:
Abandoned German artillery, most likely in France. Photo: Harold Palmer
At about 0400 hours the following morning [July 8], Sergeant Herman woke me with the news that Col. [Daniel] Spengler [Commander of the 1110th Engineer Combat Group] was missing. The details weren't yet clear but Spengler's sergeant had returned to the 1110th's command post with some very worrisome information. As they drove to the outskirts of La Haye-du-Puits the night before, Spengler had decided that, without support, it was simply too dangerous to go into the town where a number of German hold-outs were believed to be in hiding. But it remained vital to assess what kind of engineer work would be needed to clean up the town and its roads and bridges, and so Spengler had set up an observation post outside the town, and procured a six man patrol from the 79th Infantry Division.
Spengler and the six infantrymen had finally determined it was safe to enter the town from the west, and they hadn't radioed with news of any encounters with Germans before Spengler appeared alone on a railroad bridge on the north side of town, where he was able to visually send an all-clear signal to the men waiting at the observation post. Their orders had been to wait for the colonel to return, but when he hadn't after ninety more minutes had passed, his sergeant grew worried and radioed the command post for assistance.
High vantage point of a village destroyed by bombing. Photo: Harold PalmerI dressed quickly, grabbed my M-1, and Herman and I drove toward the command post outside La Haye-du-Puits just as the sun began to climb the sky. The early morning was still and hushed except for the noise of the jeep, and heavy dew bent the grasses in the fields low to the ground. When we joined the infantrymen outside of town, they explained that they had become separated from Spengler and had been unable locate him again. Then, they had heard a short machine-gun blast echo through the otherwise deserted streets. I selected three of the men who'd been with Spengler to join us, and the eight of us who now went searching for Spengler again were armed solely with our pistols and M-1s. But, as it turned out, we didn't need them.
Transporting captured German prisoners to compounds constructed by engineers. Photo: Harold PalmerWe didn't encounter anyone who was hostile before we found Spengler's body slumped in a narrow street, the front of his chest etched by a line of machine-gun bullet wounds. I knelt beside him, and it seemed impossible that this man who had been so vital and so constantly animated now lay utterly lifeless. His face was drained of its color and his eyes stared blankly into the morning light. I closed them, and I wanted to cry, but somehow I couldn't. Then, when I noticed that the Krauts who'd killed him had taken his West Point ring, I was hit by a wave of guilt that made my stomach turn. Surely I could have protected him if I had been there. And I was angry now, too. How in the hell had those infantrymen from the 79th Division lost track of this man? I was angry at them, at myself, and with Spengler himself. The big, gruff son of a bitch hadn't needed to die that day, I knew, and my tears finally did come when we wrapped his body in a rain poncho and solemnly carried it out of the town. I spent plenty of time trying to decide whether, in fact, the colonel had been foolhardy or brave. The one thing I was sure of was that I remained deeply sorrowful that he was gone.
By July 9, the situation on the U.S. front had greatly improved with the 79th taking La Haye-du-Puits with the support of the 300th Engineers. Although the VIII Corps had advanced only seven miles from July 3 to 14, they sustained 10,000 casualties. The 300th left the 1110th on July 9 and was then attached to the 1105th Engineer Combat Group.
The Move Through St. Lo
Clearing debris in Isigny, France, 11 July 1944. Photo: Riel Crandall
Clearing debris from the town of Isigny, France, 11 July 1944. Photo: Riel Crandall
Clearing debris from the town of Isigny, France, 11 July 1944. Photo: Riel Crandall
Clearing debris from the town of Isigny, France, 11 July 1944. Photo: Riel Crandall
While the First Army and the 300th Engineers were slowly moving south toward St. Lo, the Third Army, under the leadership of Lt. General George S. Patton, was moving north and west to cross the Vire River and also on to St. Lo. The Germans had destroyed all bridges in the region while barely holding on to St. Lo and the surrounding area. With the crossing of the Vire River by the Third Army on July 7, the Germans were now pressed from all sides.
On July 11, the First Army began its assault on St. Lo along a ten-mile front. St. Lo, with a peacetime population of 11,000, was located on low ground at a loop in the Vire River. It was surrounded by hills and main transportation arteries traversed it in every direction making it a vital supply and troop crossroads in the German war machine.
The attack was slow-moving and was supported by artillery and air attacks on the city. German forces held on and the fighting for every foot of ground was brutal and costly. During the 12 days from July 4 to 15, ammunition expenditure was greater than at any other period during the first two months of the European campaign.
The complete fall of St. Lo came on July 17-18. The American First and Third Armies found a shell of the former town of St. Lo. Almost no building or structure was untouched by the fierce fighting. In its place, they found gaunt walls, crumbled masonry and twisted vehicles buried in the rubble. It was as if the entire Normandy Campaign had been summed up in this one town. Enemy shells continued to hit St. Lo for several days and German planes made one last attempt to regain control by bombing the town on July 19.
Operation Cobra was a mission by Allied forces to break through German lines immediately after the total destruction of St. Lo. General Omar Bradley called for some 3000 Allied planes to blast through an opening by carpet bombing a three and a half by one mile rectangle outside St. Lo.
The area to be bombed was marked by red smoke but the wind blew it over American lines. Twenty-five of the men of the 30th Infantry were killed and 131 wounded by the Allied bombs. On the second day of the massive bombing, again the red smoke drifted toward American lines. This time 111 American infantry were killed and nearly 500 wounded. The 300th lost two men from Co. C - Pvt. Kenneth Costeel and PFC Eugene W. Hutchison. Five or six others of the 300th were injured.
Although Operation Cobra was the worst American friendly-fire incident in the entire war, it severely damaged the German forces, equipment and moral. The bombings were followed by fifty thousand artillery shells. It was only two days later that the First Army broke through the German lines and began to cover ground at a much faster pace toward Germany.
Co. B constructing a culvert. Photo: Army Signal Corps Co. C constructing a bypass. Photo: Army Signal Corps
Excerpt from the daily War Diary of General Courtney H. Hodges, Commander of the First Army, maintained by his aide Maj. William Sylvan and approved by General Hodges:
Wednesday, 26 July 1944: Two post-mortems to the last two days' action: Casualties from Tuesday's misdirected bombings were close to 600 persons, almost 100 of whom were killed, more than 90 percent of which came from the 30th Division, including Col. "Paddy" Flint, one of the best known and beloved regimental commanders, died yesterday as the result of wounds. General Hodges said Col. Flint was so sure that "his time was coming" that he had written home, telling friends that he did not expect to survive the war.
Bombing St. Lo; from a presentation by Colonel Riel Crandall at a 300th Reunion in 1996:
We built bridges over the river at St. Lo after that big bombardment of St. Lo. For about an hour, the sky was a solid mass of American and British planes dropping bombs on the Germans. Some of you might remember that three of them fell a little short and caught one of our groups. I got a hold of one of my Air Force friends later and said, "How could you do something like that? It was five miles from the drop zone." He said that plane had a green bombardier on his first trip and he was kind of... [Col. Crandall shows his hands shaking]. There was a control to release the bombs and he may have accidentally released them. There was a safety device so that you couldn't release the bombs until after the bomb bay was opened. When the bomb bay was opened he already had his shaking hands on the release and down went the load before it was supposed to go and so we got hit. That's what my Air force friend thought happened.
Ben L. White recalls taking of St. Lo:
Soon after we landed at Normandy the Infantry was moving to take St. Lo. The first day they went into the town but were driven out by the Germans that were left. The next day the Infantry went in full force and took the town. When we went through St. Lo, it was all bombed out. Very few buildings were standing. What I noticed were lots of dead horses. The Germans were defending the town with horses pulling the outdated artillery like the horses pulling the caissons in the Civil War. I thought that if this was all they had it shouldn't be too hard to defeat the Germans.
Randy Hanes remembers a gentleman at Insigny:
At Isigny near St. Lo, an old peasant gentleman approached me and hugged me saying, "Merci, Merci." My French was more limited at that time but I knew he was saying "Thank you." He wanted to give me a weird-looking dagger as a token of his appreciation for liberating them from the "Bosche." With help, I explained that I did not want a gift and that we were there to restore their freedom from occupation by the Germans. I knew that I would hurt his feelings by refusing so I accepted his offer. This prompted more hugging, mercis and tears.
300th reconstructing a railroad bridge five miles north of Saint Jean de Daye, Normandy, July 23 1944. On the left Maj. Crandall, Battalion Commander, observes the work. Photo: Riel Crandall
By the end of July, Allied forces had made slow progress driving the Germans back. They were less than half way across France by July 24 (D-Day plus 48 days). The original objective was to be at this same position five days after D-Day. To this point, Allied forces had suffered 122,000 casualties while the Germans estimated losses at 117,000.
Patton's Third Army was now openly operational. His role in France had been kept secret for some time as his supposed presence in England continued the hoax of another pending Allied landing near Calais, France. A 12th Army Group was formed with General Omar Bradley in command. The First Army (including the 300th Engineers) was under the command of Lt. General Courtney Hodges. Although Major General Dwight D. Eisenhower was in overall command in Europe, the First Army at that time was under the operational control of British General Sir Bernard L. Montgomery.
By the time the 300th moved through the city of St. Lo around August 6, the city lay in ruins from the heavy bombing and fierce battles. Although sustaining heavy damage, the only building left standing was the Cathedral of Notre-Dame with its tall spires rising above the smoking rubble.
Don Ross described his experiences in France:
July 12, 1944 [France] - The fields are all lined by hedgerows, with a drainage ditch on either side, most important roads are paved. They [the Germans] sure are a bunch of stubborn buzzards. They had poles and every kind of obstacle imaginable stuck out in the open fields to prevent our planes from landing. There is a load of souvenirs lying around. The old M1 is never move than an arm's distance away at any time. When I sleep it comes right to bed with me. In almost every field there are a few cows or horses, what are left. A lot of them were killed and lying dead in the fields. There was also a hell of a load of damn good Germans or what was left of them - I mean dead.
Operating a water point. Photo: Army Signal Corps
There's about 10 cows in the field now and one of the boys was riding them a while back.
July 31, 1944 [France] - Contrary to public opinion, I don't sleep in a foxhole, got a whole damn trailer to myself and I've made a little home and office out of it. When the guns start a roaring at night the damn thing waltzes around the field. If the stuff gets to coming too close, I just hit the ditch. Usually don't hear it until it gets right on top of us as our engines are running all the time.
Badly damaged German tank, most likely in France. Photo: Harold Palmer
American soldier checking inside a disabled German tank, most likely in France. Photo: Harold Palmer
From the Stars and Stripes:
The Stars and Stripes is a Daily Newspaper of the U.S. Armed Forces. James Kennedy, 300th veteran, provided three original publications, July 13, 14 and 15, 1944. The following are excerpts from the newspaper published in France that was read by members of the 300th soon after landing in Normandy.
They Smell a Bad Egg, Cheat Nazis of a Cackle, Southeast of Bayeux
The latest in German booby traps was a real egg left at the side of a lane. British soldiers, rationed to one egg a month almost rushed for a the prize. Then some sixth sense warned them. They held back, sent for a mine detector. The detector showed it conclusively - that egg was a bad one.
Nazi Booby-Trap Hides Thermite in Candy Bar
Army authorities told today of a new and diabolical booby-trap being used by the Germans - candy with a piece of thermite buried in the center. When eaten, the candy melts away and the thermite flares up in the mouth and throat.
The Germans also are exploiting the Allied troops desire for cleanliness in devising other traps. Liquid soap dispensers are filled with sulphuric acid and a cake of soap when the outer coating is worn away explodes and is strong enough to blow off both hands.
Even German Dead May Cloak a Wired Invitation
Germans are very rough and tough and no respecters of the dead. They'll booby trap the bodies of their own soldiers just as quickly as those of the enemy if they think it will cause another Allied casualty.
Allies Join French They Freed in Bastille Day Observances
Amid the ruins of battle-ravaged towns and villages, Allied troops joined yesterday [July 14, 1944] with the liberated people of Normandy in celebrating Bastille Day, France's equivalent to America's Independence Day. Cherbourg saw the largest demonstration. French, British and American troops marched together in a parade that led to the Place de la Republique, where they were cheered by a gathering of 3000.
Members of the French underground as well as French troops fighting on the Normandy front, were paid high tribute by Gen. Eisenhower in a Bastille Day message over the American Broadcasting station in Europe. "Our common victory will permit you to bring back that liberty born in France 155 years ago today."
Public worship and simple ceremonies at war memorials decorated with wreaths and the flags of France, Britain and the U.S. for the most part marked the observance of the day throughout liberated Normandy.
The following letter was sent to Major Crandall after the Bastille Day event in Isigny, France on 14 July 1944:
Mayor
D'Isigny-Sur-Mer
(Calvados)
20 July 1944
Major Riel S. Crandall
Commanding Officer
300th Engineer Battalion
Dear Mr. Commander,
I must thank you very much for the help that you offered by putting at my disposal one of your machines and the personnel necessary to clear the town square on the eve of our National Holiday the 14th of July.
This work could not have been accomplished in time without your collaboration for which I thank you again very sincerely.
Mr. Commander, Very truly yours,
The Mayor
Bastile Day at Insigny, France. Photo: Frank Neuhauser