In Coordination With Ray Miles, I-347; John McAuliffe, M-347; Lew Goad, L-347

Prologue

Earlier this year, while reviewing the 87th Infantry Division’s history on the Internet, I was surprised to read that our Division is credited with capturing only 10,282 German Prisoners of War during World War II. Having been personally involved in the acceptance on May 6, 1945 of the formal surrender of over 40,000 Wehrmacht (German Regular Army) and Schutzstaffel (SS) troops[1], including a considerable number of high ranking general officers — a day before the Unconditional Surrender of all German Forces was signed and three days before active operations were ordered to cease — I contacted John “Mac” McAuliffe[2] to determine if he had any information regarding what I consider to be an obvious discrepancy in our Division’s history. It is interesting to note that a review of the official records contained in the National Archives pertaining to our Division, particularly those of the 347th Infantry and its 3rd Battalion, clearly reveal that a number of these surrendering Wehrmacht and SS troops began to enter our lines on May 7, two days before ALL active operations were to cease at 001B, 9 May, 1945 between the Germans and the Allied Expeditionary Forces (AEF).

Mac promptly informed me that as he was leaving our Division’s 2002 reunion, he was handed information pertaining to the mass surrender by Ray Miles.[3] The information included a letter written and signed by a German general,[4] with a subject line of “Report Concerning the Canceling of Discharge Papers Issued in Connection with the Surrender to the American Army“. The letter, written in German with an English translation, was addressed to Major Withers, who commanded the 3rd Battalion, 347th Infantry. Also included was a personal note from Major Withers addressed to Capt. Miles explaining the purpose of the German general’s letter. The original letter, and an English translation can be found in the Appendix.

During our conversation, Mac recalled an article I had written concerning the mass surrender.[5] My article includes a reprint of a letter, passed by my Company L, 347th Infantry censor, which I wrote on May 12, 1945 to my father. I mentioned in that hastily written letter that prior to Germany’s final surrender, I had ventured deep into enemy territory and obtained the surrender of two complete German Infantry Divisions. I learned later, long after World War II was over, that the surrender included an entire German Army Corps, its divisions plus a number of other odd and assorted units involving more than 40,000 Wehrmacht and SS troops. Also included were at least twenty officers holding the rank of general whose names and units are listed below.

Before sending a copy of the letter to the GAN[6], I had both the original letter and its envelope notarized so that the GAN’s Editor, Jim Amor, would know that the events stated therein were as stated in the original letter — that they were not some “cock and bull combat story” rattling around in an old soldier’s hazy memory of an event which took place more than fifty years earlier.

After discussing the surrender with Mac, he informed me that Ray Miles had promised Major Withers that a written record would be made, so that details of the mass surrender of the Germans to our battalion and regiment would not be lost to posterity. Ray, in turn, asked Mac to prepare the record. After learning that I had been directly involved in obtaining the surrender, Mac asked me to prepare an article for possible publication in the GAN. Upon receiving a similar request from Ray Miles, I agreed to do so, but only after visiting the National Archives, located in College Park, Maryland. By searching the Archive’s official records of the 87th Infantry Division, the 347th Infantry Regiment and it’s 3rd Battalion, I wanted to make certain that my memory of the actual events, which occurred more than 58 years earlier, had not been too dimmed by time, or had become figments in an old soldier’s imagination.

Although the terms of Germany’s unconditional surrender signed on May 7, 1945, provided there would be no further active operations after midnight on May 8/9, I learned later that the 3rd Battalion, 347th Regiment did not get the news of the formal surrender until late on May 7, at which time we were told to immediately cease all offensive operations in our sector. The delay, we were told, was because our 87th Division Headquarters had been instructed not to use any radios to disseminate that information to its lower echelons. Naturally, we were overjoyed by the news since we had been given to understand that the Germans, particularly all SS units and other diehard Wehrmacht elements were planning to retreat into Czechoslovakia and the mountains of Bavaria where they would continue to fight as “Werewolf” units, shooting anyone who tried to surrender to the Americans and Russians. The “werewolf” rumor was later confirmed in documentation we captured from German forces.

Concerning the cessation of actual hostilities, it is interesting to note, as stated in the letter addressed to Major Withers and signed by the German general Eisenbach[7], that the Germans believed the suspension of hostilities would not occur until the night of May 8/9, 1945. This was more than a full day after we had been ordered to cease all further offensive operations. It also is important to note, as stated in Eisenbach’s letter, that when his command crossed the American lines controlled by the 3rd Battalion on May 10, Major Withers placed Eisenbach in overall command of three POW camps which already had been established by the 3rd Battalion “in the area of Tannenbergsthal – Rautenkranz and it would be my [Eisenbach’s] responsibility to assure law, order and discipline in these camps.” Major Withers stated in his previously mentioned note to Ray Miles that although several German generals of higher rank already had entered our lines before Eisenbach arrived, he placed Eisenbach in command of the camps because Eisenbach “was about my size so I made him the Commandant of all their people.”

To provide a deeper appreciation of the events which occurred several weeks prior to, during, and following the German surrender in the 87th Infantry Division’s sector of operations, here is what happened as best as I and those who assisted me in writing this article remember it, coupled with information I found in the National Archives.

The Capture of Plauen

On April 16, 1945, after having been in the forefront of many battles fought by General George S. Patton’s Third Army in France, Belgium, Luxemburg and Germany, the 3rd Battalion, 347th Infantry Regiment participated in the capture Plauen, Germany. The city -a railroad and vital industrial center with a pre-war population of 110,000 – had been heavily damaged by aerial bombardment on or about April 10, 1945, because it contained a number of factories, ordnance plants and workshops producing war materiel, including a plant (Vogtlandische Maschinenfabrik AG of Plauen) known to be manufacturing Panzer tanks for the Wehrmacht. It also contained a large number of warehouses containing German army weapons, equipment, food rations and war materiel. Additional damage was inflicted on the city by the 87th Infantry Division’s 334thField Artillery Battalion, which provided covering fire as the 347th Infantry Regiment began its assault on Plauen.

Most of the buildings we observed as we moved deeper into Plauen had been severely damaged, many with only a few walls remaining; others were totally destroyed. The majority of the city’s streets, many with gaping bomb craters, were nearly impassable; although the infantry and accompanying tanks were able to move through them after encountering light resistance from the German troops defending the city. During the 347th Infantry Regiment’s attack on Plauen, Company L — with Lt. Lew Goad’s 1st Platoon leading the way down Pausaer Strasse — reached a point approximately one kilometer from the Elster River, which divided the city. At the same time Capt. Kidd, Commander of Company L, received a message that one of our spotter aircraft had observed a German platoon-sized force which appeared to be setting demolition charges in preparation of destroying the sole remaining bridge across the river, apparently hoping to delay our advance. Capt. Kidd radioed me saying he wanted my rifle platoon (the 2nd) to move through the 1st platoon and prevent the Germans from destroying the bridge.

To provide my platoon with additional firepower, Capt. Kidd gave me a section of tanks from the tank platoon which had been attached to Company L for the assault on Plauen. Moving through Lew Goad’s platoon, and with the tanks following through the rubble-clogged streets, we advanced toward the bridge as quickly as possible. Arriving at the bridge, we observed a number of German troops at the far end. They appeared to be still in the process of setting up demolition charges under the bridge. Placing one of the tanks on each side of our end of the bridge, I directed them to fire a couple of cannon rounds at the Germans and then open fire with their machine guns along each side of the bridge, while my men and I raced across the bridge hoping to cut the ignition wires, or otherwise neutralize the demolition charges before the bridge was blown. Suffice it to say, aided by the supporting fire laid down by the tanks, I succeeded in neutralizing the demolitions while my men, after capturing a number of German defenders, drove off the remaining German soldiers, without suffering any casualties. Having secured the bridge, I moved the 2nd platoon to higher ground on the far side of the river in order to ward off any counterattack which might be attempted by the Germans.

I was told several years ago by Ray Stender, who had been assigned as a 2nd Lt. to Company L for a couple of weeks before being transferred to Company K, that shortly after we had secured the bridge and had moved to high ground on the far side of the river, he and his K Company Rifle platoon arrived at the bridge along with other elements of Company L which had been following my platoon. Upon learning from the “tankers” that in my haste to prevent the Germans from blowing up the bridge, I chose not to waste precious time searching and clearing the buildings on our side of the river, knowing that would be done by other Company L elements which were following close behind. Ray said that he decided to join the Company L troops in a search of the buildings and, in the process, he, his men and Company L captured a number of German soldiers, including several officers who were hiding in the buildings’ cellars. The Germans apparently had been left to defend the bridge hoping to delay us long enough so that the bridge could be destroyed — but wisely decided they were not yet ready to die for the “Fatherland”. (Note: In 1990, while the Communists were still in control of East Germany, my wife, Gayla, and I visited “our bridge” in Plauen. We learned that the people of Plauen apparently had convinced the authorities to declare the bridge a “National Treasurer.” The area at both ends of the bridge, which as of 1990 had been restricted to foot traffic, had been turned into lovely little parks. I later learned that the bridge, known locally as “The Elsterbruecke”, is believed to have been constructed prior to 1244, nearly 250 years before Columbus discovered the Americas! If I’m fortunate enough to visit Plauen again, I plan to visit its Bürgermeister(Mayor) and suggest that the city erect a sign letting Plauen’s citizens and visitors know that “The Elsterbruecke” was saved for them by American soldiers, members of the 3rd Battalion, 347th Infantry Regiment.)

East Meets West – The Movement Toward Czechoslovakia

Immediately following the capture of Plauen, the 347th Infantry Regiment shoved off again. This time our objective was to reach the border between Germany and Czechoslovakia, approximately 15 to 20 miles away. On April 17, the 1st Battalion captured Oelsnitz, apparently with little opposition, while the 2nd Battalion moved into Ober Losa, and the 3rd Battalion cleared the small city of Theuma, cutting the Autobahn (a super military highway) between Theuma and Ober Losa. Although the border of Czechoslovakia now was well within range of our division’s artillery, we were told that Major General Culin, our Division Commander, had been ordered by higher headquarters to stop our advance shortly after we captured Plauen. Rumors began to circulate that we were to remain in place to await the coming of Russian forces which had been reported to be approximately twenty-five kilometers eastward of our positions. After driving across Germany to the Czechoslovakian border, usually as the left flank division of General George S. Patton’s Third Army, our corps (The US VIII Corps) was transferred to the First Army on April 22, 1945. We were ordered to remain in defensive positions on the First Army’s right flank; continue patrolling along our front adjacent to the Third Army (on our right) while waiting for contact by the Russians.

During the next two weeks, having captured a number of towns and villages seven or eight miles east of Oelsnitz and Theuma, including Bergen, Steinigt, Lottengrun, Tirpersdorf, Werda, Arnoldsgrun, and Marieney, the 347th Infantry established and held a front line which ran generally from Falkenstein and Poppengrun on its left flank through the villages of Werda and Schoneck to Wohlbach on its right. While holding this line, nightly patrols were conducted and scattered contact with the enemy to our front continued. During this time period we received considerable incoming rifle and machine gun fire, plus occasional artillery shelling on a daily basis to let us know there were German units in front of us who still were willing to fight. Just south of our lines a group of saboteurs with a load of demolitions was captured by 347th Infantry combat patrols, while several men from our 2nd Battalion were ambushed and captured, in turn, by the Germans. We heard numerous rumors that Germany was on the verge of surrender, but none of those tales proved to be true.

While marking time, waiting for the Russians who were slowly approaching our lines from the East, we were told by Capt. Kidd, our Company Commander, that higher headquarters wanted several men from each company to take a jeep and visit a recently liberated German concentration camp at Buchenwald — a small village located near Weimar about 70 miles behind our lines — to bear witness to the unspeakable atrocities which had been found there. Lew Goad and I volunteered to visit Buchenwald and, upon our arrival, will never forget what we saw. Etched forever in my memory were piles of dead bodies, at least 10 to 15 feet high, stacked on the ground in several places. Many more corpses had been loaded in open rail cars, apparently waiting to be moved to the crematory ovens or away from the camp. I remember seeing a number of German civilians inside the camp who had been ordered to go from their homes in Weimar and nearby villages to also bear witness to the atrocities committed by the Nazis.

One of the horrors that Lew and I remember seeing was a small shack located near the crematory ovens, which contained a number of cans with numbers stamped on their lids. We were told that the cans contained the ashes of cremated inmates which could be purchased for a fee by their families. I assume this offer applied only to the families of non-Jewish political prisoners because I am certain no Jewish family member, who might have been hiding somewhere within reach of the Gestapo, would have made their presence known by responding to such offer. I also recall seeing a number of former prisoners milling around inside the camp, so I believe our visit to the camp must have occurred shortly after its liberation.

In fact, I learned later that Buchenwald actually had been discovered on or about April 11, 1945 by a motorized patrol consisting of Capt. Frederick Keffer and three enlisted men from Task Force 9 of 6th Armored Division, while the 87th Infantry Division, having captured Bad Blankenburg to the south, was moving rapidly towards Saalfeld and Plauen. I also learned that shortly after Buchenwald was discovered, a detachment of soldiers and medical personnel from the 87th Infantry Division were sent to the camp to help in providing emergency care and evacuation of the camp’s survivors, most of whom were near death or in extremely poor condition.

Although higher headquarters understood that, having captured Plauen we and other allied forces had advanced far beyond the point agreed to by the Allies and the Russians, many of us at the battalion and company level were hoping we would continue to remain in our present positions and wait for the Russians to reach our lines. In fact, during this period, several officers and enlisted men in the 3rd Battalion, including Lt. Isidore Vallorani, had been given “rest and recuperation passes” to visit Paris, France. Vallorani, who had led the 3rd Platoon, Company L from the beginning of the Battle of the Bulge, took over as our Company Executive Officer, thereby becoming second in command of Company L shortly before we entered Plauen.

On the night of May 5, however, we received word that we would wait no longer — the 347th Infantry Regiment was ordered to attack the next morning, May 6 at 0700 hours, to be followed by the 346th Infantry which was ordered to attack at 0800. The 1st Battalion, 347th Infantry was given the objective of capturing Klingenthal, approximately six miles to the east, while the 3rd Battalion, 347th was given the objective of capturing Tannenbergsthal and Jägersgrün, approximately five miles from our present locations, and close to the border between Germany and Czechoslovakia. Moving out, with Company I headed for its objective of Tannenbergsthal and Company L headed for Jägersgrün, both companies encountered a number of roadblocks (abatis), sometimes only 100 or 200 yards apart for the first mile or so after jumping off enroute to their objectives. These roadblocks consisted of many trees blown down across the narrow roads passing through heavily forested areas. The enemy apparently had erected them when we were forced to hold up, shortly after we had captured Oelsnitz and Theuma. Resistance, however, by the retreating German forces was light, and was soon overcome or bypassed, resulting in the capture of a number of German soldiers.

As Company L approached the outskirts of Jägersgrün, with my platoon (the 2nd) and the 3rd platoon under T/SGT James Scruggs leading the way, Capt. Kidd radioed me saying that a German unit, possibly platoon-size or larger, had been observed in the middle of that village by one of our artillery spotter aircraft. The Germans appeared to be in the process of setting up demolition charges to destroy a bridge that spanned a small river parallel to the railroad tracks that divided that little village. Capt. Kidd ordered me to coordinate with T/Sgt Scruggs, and move our platoons as quickly as possible into Jägersgrün, to prevent the Germans from destroying the bridge. T/Sgt Scruggs had became “acting platoon leader” of the 3rd Platoon after Lt. Vallorani moved up to become our Company Executive Officer.

Setting up a skirmish line and firing as we entered Jägersgrün, the German defenders quickly scattered, thereby permitting the 2nd Platoon to cross over the bridge and allow me an attempt to neutralize the demolition charges that had been placed under the bridge. Hoping that I could do so before the charges could be ignited, my prayers were answered and the bridge was secured. Then, moving quickly through to the far side of the village after the bridge was secured, the 2ndand 3rd Platoons set up perimeter defensive positions as the remainder of Company L moved into Jägersgrün to await further orders.

During this action we captured approximately 25 to 30 German soldiers, including a German Colonel, and what I thought to be several female soldiers who were hiding with him in one of the houses in the village. I was told later the females actually were part of a German entertainment group similar to our USO troupes. The colonel, who spoke fairly good English, apparently had changed into civilian clothing as we were moving into Jägersgrün, because I found his uniform hidden under a bed. After I told him he could be shot on the spot as a spy for masquerading as a civilian, he claimed to be a staff officer assigned to a division headquarters, the command post (CP) of which he said was located 4 or 5 miles deeper inside Czechoslovakia. He told me he believed his division commander was convinced time was running out for the German forces and would prefer to surrender to the Americans rather than to the Russians, who he had heard were nearing Prague, the capital of Czechoslovakia. I suggested to the colonel that he contact his division commander and advise him that the members of his division certainly would be far better off if he surrendered to the Americans, rather than be captured and imprisoned by the Russians. The colonel said he had no radio or wire contact with the Division Commander and asked if I would be willing, under a flag of truce, to accompany him through the German lines to locate a German front line unit, which was in contact with division headquarters.

I then made two very stupid mistakes. First, after having survived five campaigns[8], and foolishly believing by then that “the Germans didn’t have a bullet with my name on it”[9], I agreed to go with the Colonel. Second, I did not personally inform Capt. Kidd of my intentions and obtain his permission to venture behind enemy lines. I told S/Sgt Howard L. Crawford[10] and Eldridge “Frenchy” LeBlanc (my platoon messenger) what I hoped to accomplish, and to inform Capt. Kidd if I was not back in an hour or two. I then hung part of a white sheet over the front of my jeep. Placing the colonel in the front seat, I sat behind him (with my pistol stuck between his shoulder blades) and instructed Jones, my driver, to follow the Colonel’s directions.

What transpired then, and for the next six or seven hours, was like watching one of the prewar “slap stick” movies. Moving slowly southeast of Jägersgrün on a forest road leading towards Carlsfeld (located about 6 miles east of Jägersgrün and close to the Czechoslovakia border), we luckily passed without trouble through the first German outposts. The Wehrmacht soldiers, with their weapons ready, eyed us like visitors from outer space. Although the German Army units had been steadily retreating as we pushed them eastward towards Czechoslovakia, I do not recall observing any confusion in their ranks as we drove deeper behind the German lines. The German units that we observed appeared to be well organized and ready to defend their positions until compelled again to continue their retreat. One clear memory, however, still stands out in my mind. I remember seeing a German soldier walking along, a mile or two further down the road, carrying a huge armload full of bread to a field kitchen that had been set up near the road. Turning around and seeing us as we approached, he dropped the entire load of bread as, wild eyed, he frantically attempted to un-shoulder his rifle. Thankfully, the Colonel screamed something at him in German, which settled him down. A few minutes later we were met by a German officer, who obviously had been alerted of our approach by the first outposts we had encountered.

After a short conversation in German, the Colonel arranged for a German motorcycle escort to precede us to his division’s headquarters. I estimated the headquarters to be 3 or 4 miles inside Czechoslovakia near the towns of Prebuz and Rudne, and approximately 12 miles from Jägersgrün. Upon arriving, the Division Commander, whose name I do not recall, was informed by the Colonel that I was there to accept his surrender. The Commander told me, in excellent English, that although he knew there was little hope left for Germany, and as much as he would like to save his troops from further harm, he could not willingly surrender his division unless ordered to do so by his Corps Commander.

I suggested to him that he contact his Corps Commander and advise him that he, too, would be far better off if he surrendered his entire command to the Americans, rather than waiting for his troops to be captured by the Russians. I told him if his Corps Commander wasn’t ready to surrender, then I expected him, the Division Commander, to provide safe passage for my driver and me back to Jägersgrün and the American lines, since we had come under a flag of truce. Before agreeing to contact his Corps Commander, the General asked me why the American forces had stopped their advance after having driven the German Army almost into Czechoslovakia. I told him I had no knowledge of why we had stopped, but he could rest assured that we were moving again and this time we wouldn’t stop until we were eyeball-to-eyeball with Russians. Apparently that was all that was needed to convince him to contact his commander.

What seemed to me to be an eternity, but was probably less than an hour — while the Division Commander, the German Colonel, Jones and I sat casually drinking wine on the verandah of a beautiful home which was the division headquarters — the Division Commander received word that the Corps Commander wanted to see me at his headquarters.. During our wait I learned that in the German Army a brigade-sized unit was commanded by a “Generalmajor” (major general), a division was commanded by a “Generalleutnant” (lieutenant general), and a corps was commanded by a “General der Infanterie or Panzertruppe, Artillerie,etc.” (full general).

So, off we went again — this time escorted by a number of Wehrmacht motorcycle troopers, sirens wailing, leading the way and traveling even deeper behind enemy lines in Czechoslovakia. Arriving at the Corps Headquarters, which was located in a large building on the outskirts of Karlsbad (now named Karlovy Vara), I was escorted into the Corps Commander’s office. Speaking English, he immediately asked what my rank was. I, like all front line American infantrymen, was not wearing any insignia of rank. Combat infantrymen quickly learned that non-commissioned and commissioned officers were “targets of choice” for German snipers. I certainly wasn’t about to tell him that his surrender was being demanded by a Technical Sergeant wearing muddy and dirty clothing — so I told him I was a Captain, commander of an infantry rifle company. He looked me over, commenting that the American Army also must be running out of officer materiel if it, like the German Wehrmacht, was forced to fill its officer ranks with youngsters barely out of high school. Although I had not yet reached my 22nd birthday, I told the General that I was 24 and had been fighting the Wehrmacht since June 6, 1944, having participated in the Normandy invasion on Omaha Beach (the latter part being the truth). He then told me that he had been a German officer for more than 30 years, and would not surrender unless ordered to do so by his higher command.

Fearing that my venture behind the German lines was about to end in failure, I told the Corps Commander what I had earlier said to his division commander — that my division and the rest of the American Army was moving again and this time we wouldn’t stop until we were eyeball-to-eyeball with Russians. Knowing absolutely nothing of the rules of war, the Geneva Convention or anything else having to do with surrender formalities, I told him that if he formally surrendered to the American forces, the Russians would have to honor that formal surrender document. Although I knew only a few German words[11], hardly appropriate for the moment, several of his staff officers, appearing anxious to convince him to surrender, apparently offered their opinion (in German) to the General that my statements were correct. The General told me to wait outside his office while he discussed the situation with his staff.

My driver, Jones, and I sat in the hallway just outside of the general’s office for what seemed like another eternity, hearing what sounded like a heated debate between the General and his staff. While waiting for the General to make up his mind, Jones and I watched with growing uneasiness while numerous staff personnel and dispatch messengers ran hurriedly up and down the halls, eyeing us warily as they entered or exited their offices. While I understood from the beginning that our venture deep behind enemy lines would not be a “cake walk,” I began to realize that the situation in which I had placed Jones and myself was growing more serious with each passing minute, possibly ending with deadly results.

Not knowing what was going on in the General’s office, I must admit that for the first time since leaving our lines, I realized that Jones and I might very well be taken outside and shot because of my brazen and foolhardy actions. After what seemed like another eternity, I was called back into the General’s office and informed that after weighing the predicament facing the soldiers and officers under his command, he was prepared to surrender his entire Corps, including the division which I had visited earlier — but would only do so to an American officer of equal rank. I told him that was not possible; that time was running out for him and his troops. The Russians were rapidly moving from the east and would soon overrun and deal harshly with his forces[12]. I told the General that I had been sent by my Division Commander (which was not true) to accept his surrender, and if he wasn’t ready to do so, then I expected him to provide safe passage for me and my driver back to the American lines.

After thinking this over for several minutes, the General agreed to surrender his entire command to me, but said he would not do so in his headquarters, preferring to surrender in the field among his troops and at a location halfway between his headquarters and my division’s command post (CP). I thought this insistence to be rather strange, but gladly agreed, knowing that it would take Jones and me closer to our lines. The General asked me to point out on the large battle map in his office the approximate location of my division’s CP.

By this time, it was getting late in the day and I did not want to be behind enemy lines after dark. Neither was I going to give him the location of my Division CP, nor even my Regimental or Battalion CP — none of which, truthfully, I had any knowledge. Looking at his map, I found Jägersgrün, which I quickly estimated to be at least 25 miles or more from our present location. Pointing to a road junction near Carlsfeld just inside the German-Czechoslovakia border, I told the General that I believed that particular junction was approximately halfway between his headquarters and my Division’s CP. I simply wanted us to be close to the American front lines when we finally departed company with the General and his entourage. The General then ordered several of his senior staff officers to accompany him. Jones and I, along with the Colonel I had captured earlier in Jägersgrün, following in my jeep — which was sandwiched between the General’s staff car and several other German staff cars — with even more Wehrmacht motorcycles, sirens wailing, leading the way, we headed for the road junction which I had selected.

Arriving at the junction, we found what looked like a small hotel or beer hall, the proprietor of which was hiding with his family in the cellar. The General asked for some paper on which to write his surrender, but none of his staff apparently had brought any. He then told the proprietor to bring him some paper, and was informed by the poor fellow, who was shaking and scared nearly out of his wits, that all he had was some ledger sheets used to record his hotel transactions. As I remember it, the documents — one in German and one in English — were then written on several sheets of cheap and poor quality ledger paper. Both recorded, at my insistence, the unconditional surrender of what turned out to be more than 40,000 Wehrmacht troops, including what I thought at the time was a Lieutenant General, several Major Generals and a number of Brigadier Generals. I learned later, after researching the National Archive records, that this surrender action included at least twenty German generals, whose name and rank are listed below.

After receiving my copy of the surrender document, I (recalling a scene from a movie I had seen before the war) asked the General for a token of his surrender. Without hesitating, he gave me his personal pistol — a small automatic. I then requested that the German Colonel I had captured in Jägersgrün be allowed to accompany me back to my lines, and that a motorcycle escort lead the way. That request was granted and, with considerable relief, we headed straight for our lines. Needless to say, the German officer later thanked me for including him in my request — grateful to be a prisoner of war and safe in American hands.

Upon reaching Jägersgrün, Jones and I estimated we had driven at least forty-five miles behind the German lines. When I informed Capt. Kidd, my Company Commander, where we had been, and handed him the surrender document, he said words to the effect that I was one crazy fool, adding — with a wide grin — that he didn’t know whether to courts martial me or recommend me for another medal. Capt. Kidd immediately sent the document to Major Withers, our Battalion Commander who, I assume, sent it immediately to Division Headquarters. I learned shortly afterward that while Company L had captured Jägersgrün, Company I had driven the Germans out of Tannenbergsthal and the 1st Battalion was in the process of capturing Klingenthal, during which it and it’s accompanying Tank Destroyers killed and wounded a number of enemy troops.

During our travel behind enemy lines, we observed a number of heavily camouflaged strong points, including a number of tanks which were located at strategic positions offering good “fields of fire” along the densely wooded and narrow roads. We also saw a number of artillery pieces, some located at bends in the roads with their tubes depressed so that they could fire at anything coming towards them. Many trees immediately adjacent to the roads that passed through heavily forested areas had been rigged with demolitions, to permit them to be blown down across the roads to help impede our advance. Had the German Corps Commander decided not to surrender, these defensive measures undoubtedly would have resulted in significant American and German casualties. These sightings were duly reported to Capt. Kidd upon our return.

Part II 🔛