The Battle of the Bulge

The Germans started their last big offensive of World War II on December 16, 1944.  At 
that time, I was part of an engineer battalion maintaining supply routes near the Saar 
River.  Because of the German breakthrough, replacements were taken out of support 
units such as the one I was on December 18, 1944 and sent to Metz, France as a part of an 
infantry division.  Forty-eight hours thereafter, I was with this division in Luxembourg 
involved in what later became known as, "The Battle of the Bulge."   


Reflecting back, all I can say was that the wages were low, the work was tough, and the 
working conditions were unbearable.


By Christmas Eve, we had captured a small town and had set up defenses along a high 
ridge on the other side.  We dug two-man foxholes, lined the bottom with pine branches 
and settled down for the night.  To our left, Co. E and Co. I were cleaning out a pocket of 
Germans and you could hear the sound of small arms fire in the distance.  Overhead, one 
of our Tactical Fighter Groups was making air strikes, and the Germans were countering 
with anti-aircraft fire.  You could hear the flurry of small arms fire on the left while 
watching anti-aircraft bursts, mixed with the drone of airplanes in the sky, followed by 
the constant rumble of explosives.  The landscape was covered with snow amplified in 
beauty by the night, the temperature was sub-zero and the unaffected part of the sky was 
clear with millions of twinkling stars, a perfect setting for Christmas Eve. 


At the first light of morning, I saw one of our light bombers trailing smoke and, almost as 
immediate, men parachuting from the stricken plane.  It should be noted that American 
Airmen were not in a very high regard with the Germans and depending on what side of 
the line these men landed, could determine whether they lived or died.  Unfortunately, I 
can only account for one of these airmen since he landed in a small clump of trees 
mid-way between the Germans and the ridge we were occupying.  It was as though 
someone was giving away a pre-arranged signal, because before this poor soul hit the 
ground, everyone was out of their holes racing, sliding, tumbling at full speed to reach 
him.  Except for some bruises and scratches from the tree branches, he was alright and 
when he realized he had fallen into friendly hands, he expressed his appreciation in such 
terms that it made us all feel good.


Later I realized how foolishly we had exposed ourselves and had the enemy decided to 
take advantage of our weakness, we could have paid dearly.  If you were to ask me why, I 
would say the same spirit that motivated us had affected the Germans as well.


Wise is the man who learns through the experiences of life and on this day, Christmas, 
1944, in the middle of man’s greatest obscenity, War, I saw Christmas prevail.  


Joseph Vosbikian