I was in the Second Platoon. When we were near Olzheim, we got orders to move out that morning very early. It was still very dark as we came to this ridge which was about 50 to 75 feet high. The lieutenant did not know quite which way to go so we turned left at the foot of the ridge and made a circle and ended up right where we started. We found out two days later that the circle we made went right through a mine field but no one stepped on a mine!

We then proceeded up the ridge to the top and turned left along the top of the ridge. It was just starting to break day when all of a sudden, 88s and whatever else the Germans had, opened up on us. I got hit with what I thought was a large piece of shrapnel that spun me around 360 degrees and I fell to the ground. I lay there in the snow waiting for the shelling to stop. While I lay there, I picked up my helmet and put it back on and I noticed these little dark spots on the snow. A piece of shrapnel had nicked the fingertip of my index finger of my left hand, but I did not worry about that because the pain in my left side was killing me.

Finally, the shelling stopped and I was going to yell for the Medic. Well, I heard so many other guys calling for the Medic, and I did not even know if we had one with us. Someone said anyone who can walk, head back to the aid station, which was a couple hundred yards behind us. I got up and tried to walk. It was pretty painful and I could feel the warm blood running down my leg. As I moved, the pain became less, so I and four or five other guys started back to the aid station.

When I got into the aid station, I unbuttoned my overcoat and small pieces of shrapnel fell out. The front of my jacked was shredded and when I took it off, more shrapnel fell out. When I finally got down to bare skin, I stared in disbelief. On the front of my right hip was a little scratch about two inches long that barely bled. I could not believe it, with all of that pain that I had. Well, the Medic took care of my little wounds and I headed back to rejoin my outfit.

The next day we got into a fire fight and I emptied the clip in my M-1. I reached into my cartridge belt for another clip and it would not go into the rifle. I looked at it and four of the rounds were badly bent. So I pulled out another one, the same thing. I pulled out a third and it was the same. Had it not been for those rounds of ammunition in my cartridge belt, I really would have had hip or stomach damage.