THE following comments are inserted by the White historian: "Marching through three miles of mountainous country, the five companies spread out in the thick woods overlooking the high ground far above the Kyll . . . As one looked out across the terrain all that could be seen were endless stretches of forests and steep gorges running down into deep valleys . . . It was as rugged terrain as any of the soldiers had ever seen . . . Leaving the assembly area prior to the attack, G Company was assigned the task of helping the Engineers haul assault boats down the abrupt hillside to the river bank . . . German artillery began to pound the American-held side of the river with intense fire . . . As the battalion inched its way down the steep gorge the first outline of the river could be faintly discerned through the thick screening of forest. Here, it was so dark that a lot of the men, whether they would or not, slid and skidded their way down the rocky slope. To the right flank an enemy burp gun crackled through the night air and to the left the chatter of machine-guns echoed and reechoed throughout the deep valley. At 0100, March 4th, the first elements of the battalion (troops of E and F Companies) succeeded in crossing the Kyll River . . . No one will ever forget the weird sight of a wavering pattern of machine-gun bullets spraying the water in front of the assault boats. As each of the line companies hit the opposite shore they began the job of climbing the looming mountainside before them. Fighting a battle more with the terrain than with the enemy finally reached the high ground . . . usually when an enemy weapon opened up, a few of the men were either hanging on a tree or balancing on a small ledge . . . The artillery was now zeroed in on the top of the hill and shell after shell of HE or white phosphorus went thundering over."

On the map Hosten looks like a little island in the middle of a not completely closed lake of fairly flat land. In reality the village is surrounded on three sides by hills and walds which end sharply on each of these sides about a third of a kilometer away from the first houses. To the east, which is the unbuttressed side, are fairly open fields which spread in general up towards Preist and Speicher, due north, and towards Orenhofen to the northeast, at a 450 angle. The approach of the 2nd battalion elements came more from the direction of a point between Auw and Hosten and the drive, although eventually an enveloping one was at first to the south as if to meet the drive of the 3rd. It was only later that it fanned out and turned almost back on its tracks to accomplish the remainder of its mission. With it went elements of the 1st battalion, one company being attached (explaining why the historian specifies five battalion companies crossing the Kyll) and the remainder being semi-attached and semi-rear-guard.

THE entire action and progress, at an off-hand glance, might have given the appearance of confusion and incoherence. It was by no means an orderly front. The reason for this, in large proportion, was the fact that the opposition was more bitter and determined than anything which the regiment had encountered as yet. There was no doubt that this attack had been expected by the Germans. The final approach of our troops could not possibly have gone completely unobserved from the other shore. This much also is true, however, that the last thing in the world which they had anticipated was the course which the attack finally did take. ". . . and Pfc. Henry crept up to the first shattered house and took five prisoners. One of the prisoners, who at the time was trying to contact the outpost, stated that they never expected an attack up such a steep and precipitous cliff." Typically an American habit, this business of the unexpected!

It is confusing, even for the historian, to try to untangle the maze of the movements which took place in that space from Hosten to Speicher--just a scant six kilometers. The battalion lines and the company lines crossed and recrossed. And the battalion stories do very much the same thing--intermingle and corroborate and to a certain extent contradict. Terrain covered by some of the original combat forces was recovered by others, following in their footsteps. Frequently opposition was so bitter, so tenacious, and the advance so rapid that reinfiltration was a daily occurrence and towns, in instances, had to be twice taken.
An idea of this business of rapidity can be gleaned from the artillery diary. This extract pinpoints the fact better than anything which the historian could write. "Our mission that night was a big one. (March 3rd). We were to cross the Kyll River and take the town of Hosten east of the river. From there we were to sweep eastwards taking several more towns. By the time the order had been given, the Company (Easy of 2nd battalion) had already started out walking so the Captain and myself rode on jeeps to reconnoiter a forward assembly area on the west side of the river. We arrived after darkness and found that the companies had already arrived and had already occupied an area." There is far more in this little quotation than meets the eye. At first glance it seems merely as if somebody was a little bit late or somebody else was a little bit too early in reaching the jumping-off spot. What is really behind the whole picture, psychologically, is the awakened interest that the whole command--from top to bottom--was demonstrating in action. The men were looking at maps, not vaguely anymore, as they might have had back in the training periods in McCoy or Watersmeet, but with keen vital awareness of the fact that what they looked at was where they would be meeting real, live, flesh-and-blood enemy using ammunition "with intent to kill." It meant that they were now vividly desirous of judging for themselves what the chances, the percentages were in situations they were approaching, as they came to them. It meant that they were accepting orders and following them out in the best of military traditions--but that they were also exercising the great old American tradition of understanding what they were doing. This, in a nutshell, was and always would be, the margin of difference between them and the troops which, mile after mile, were retreating before them.
The story here must be given in sections and mainly by quotation and the reader must be left largely to his own devices in piecing the jig-saw together into an even, coherent pattern. Figuring, perhaps, most largely and importantly in the tapestry is the story of Orenhofen. Before Orenhofen was reached, I Company had secured the bridgehead across the Kyll. The third platoon spearheaded this action, and K and L Companies passed through them on to Orenhofen. As these two companies finished clearing the town, I Company completed its own advance and joined them, having first made completely certain of the terrain to the rear. The account of this action which is given by the surgeon of the 3rd battalion is fraught with a deep and arresting interest and might--at the risk of appearing maudlin--even be called tear-stirring.

"THE troops crossed (the Kyll) and fought their way up through snipers, machine-guns and mortar fire on their way to Orenhofen. Bark (Sgt. Barker) as usual was with them. On the way down our side of the river a sniper hit two men from I Company. "K" was to work on the left of the draw, "L" on the right of it and "I" was to go to a small town called Daufenbach and up on by the right flank. They hit quite a bit there, though, and were delayed. Bark returned and said it was impossible to get litters back. Communications were very poor . . . No bridge was in. A message came back that they had some casualties in Orenhofen who needed plasma (Sgt. Radke of K) so we started across the river with Bark guiding us--took all of the (aid) station with us except Joe Hogan, Monty, Lou Naviglia and Drew Pearson, and carried all the supplies we thought we needed. (My main supply, that I carried, was a quart of old Bourbon whiskey.) The trip to the precipice was accomplished with no trouble, then we started down a winding road on a sheer cliff-like affair they called the 'bank' of the Kyll. Here and there was some artillery, mortar and small-arms fire but none of it very near us. We learned later that, after we had gone through, a machine-gun was cleared out on our right side--apparently he respected our Red Crosses. Going down-hill involved slipping, etc., but that wasn't too bad. We scurried across the foot-bridge (by this time it had been put in) and then started that never ending climb up the hill on the other side. Some, like Hawk (Sgt. Hawkey), had fifty to sixty pounds of medical packs on their backs. Being in the "pink" of condition I only had to stop every ten yards or so, gasping for breath and lying against a tree-stump. We finally came to the top and, after resting, started out along the shrubbery, etc., then along the draw, but not in it . . . As we drew in sight of the town there was a road leading in, about 400 to 500 yards in length. About fifty yards from the first house in town there was a large combination hay and manure pile on the right; and along the roadside was a ditch full of wet mud.

"As Bark got about fifty yards from the house the Kraut on our right opened up with what must have been all the artillery pieces they could spare from the Eastern Front. They apparently had the road zeroed in quite nicely and dropped them all over us. The system would be, up and run five yards, then dive into the mud-filled ditch. By the time I got at or beyond the hay-manure pile one landed between me and Connie (T/3 Constantine) throwing dirt, rocks and shrapnel here and there. I got nicked in the right thumb, bruised in the right shoulder and forehead. Connie got two holes in his forearm.

"ON scrambling forward we had to sidestep through the tracer flak they were shooting in the fifty yards between the house and gateway and then scramble around the back of the house and into the cellar where Bark, Burke and Hopple (who passed me!) had gotten to. Had noticed the flak before the artillery fire began. On toppling into the cellar we landed on a body on the floor covered with a rain-coat. Later found that it was Lt. John P. G. Howley, (01050725, M Company) who had been killed in the same way on the same road. German artillery was coming in from both left and right behind us. The next man in was Connie with his wounded forearm. We laid him in the center of the cellar, a small one, and dressed his forearm. He was pale but game--a good kid, Connie!

"I took off my jacket and didn't get it until much later. (I mention it because, it had the Bourbon in it.) Eventually, everybody got in--the artillery continued for one half to three quarters of an hour--several of the fellows dropped various articles and gadgets on their way in--one main thing was the plasma itself. Hawk had to chase the new replacements and Collecting Company men in the town as they were freezing in their spots. (Can remember, myself, hitting the dirt and loving it there. Didn't spill a drop of Bourbon either!) Some men from one of the companies moved into our building to set up an OP. Bark, myself and, I, think, Hawk started up the streets--dusk was falling. Met Herb Bottjer (Captain, CO K Company) and he had picked out a place he thought would be good for us for an aid station. Always thoughtful, Herb was.
"There were a lot of wounded around we knew, so we checked in at the CP and then went back to our new spot. The CP was opposite the church. We (the aid station) were one or two blocks away at an intersection, in the cellar of a small house whose windows on the second and third floors were smashed. A little, shrunken German ex-soldier and his father were our companions there. The room was poor and small--a coal bin--a kitchen--the room of entrance--and a few small beds in a smaller room. We got all our men together and set up as it began to grow dim outside . . . but . . . the plasma was still out on the road. Sgt. St. Louis of K Company volunteered to go out for it but he tried the wrong road so Bark went out with him looking for it. It was getting dark and there was still some shelling when they left.