At the beginning of this chapter I mentioned how porous our frontline was. Well, our Captain alerted to this reality, came up with a plan to find the hole in our defenses. We must do what the Cavalry does best and send out patrols. Now, there were areas beyond the trenches that were not visible from our perspective, so we had to find the gap and close it or keep it under stricter surveillance. Now hear this, someone spotted a wisp of smoke coming from beyond a knoll south of our position, about a mile or so away. This area was on the near slope of the canyon, visible to the Germans across the way, but not to us.
The next morning, after eating a continental breakfast, off we went. This time we were being led by a lieutenant. At first, we were in familiar territory, so we moved quickly. After a while, it was the usual inch, look and sneak, while enjoying the beautiful landscape and taking advantage of whatever cover available. Nearing the target area, we were doing the belly crawl. When we finally reached the knoll, we carefully peered over the top, and there spread out before us, on the forward slope of the canyon, beyond a stand of trees, was a quaint farmhouse, small barn, chicken coop, pig pen with pigs and chickens included.
We quickly advanced and captured our prize. You know, there was an alien atmosphere in this idyllic setting. I felt like we were invading a sanctuary, and that people were living there. But where were they? It was very strange and eerie. Everything was neat and clean. The livestock were fed and tended to, and the furniture was in good repair. Have we reached a different dimension? It seemed that war hadn’t touched this spot in no man’s land. I was glad when the Lieutenant brought me back to reality by giving the order to vacate the premises. As we were leaving, he gave another order. “Take all the chickens”.
Oh great. First, I’m a cattle rustler, now a chicken thief. What next? Well, we marched proudly back to our lines, carrying our prisoners.
We will grill them later….
Ordinarily, I would not look forward to a patrol into enemy lines, but this time I was anxious to return to the farm nestled in that pastoral setting. Being there brought me closer to my mom. She used to tell me stories of her childhood growing up in Italy. You know the place where she learned to kill chickens the Italian way.
A few days later, with the lieutenant in charge, we went back to the spread. When we got there the same atmosphere prevailed. Someone had to be living on the premises. Where could they be? Ghosts don’t do housework, do they? After giving the house and surrounding area a thorough search, the lieutenant gave the order to pull back. As we were leaving, he told us to kill the three pigs and take them with us. The lieutenant was a short, chubby little guy who loved to eat. He was one tough cookie and a brave and competent officer. He had a knack for finding the enemy. General Patton would have loved him. Lieutenant Saurman was his name.
Let’s see. I have stolen a cow, some chickens, and now pigs. My momma would be proud?
I was wondering when we went back to this enchanted place, and I knew we would, what would we accomplish? There was no more livestock to steal. I am sure the officers knew by now that our movements were being observed. The crowds across the canyon could probably take us out whenever they wanted. Those 88-millimeter cannons were as accurate as rifles. The way they set up defenses, strategic points were always zeroed in on. I’m glad I was not an officer. I just followed orders.
As usual, the patrol leaves at dawn. This time we took a bazooka team with us. A bazooka was a weapon for launching rockets that you held on to your shoulder. We finally got there and scouted the area, with the same results as before. Nobody home.
As we were leaving, the officer kept the bazooka team back, then gave them the order to burn the place down. They fired two incendiary shells into the house and barn. Of course, we moved out of the area fast, expecting the Krauts to retaliate, but they didn’t. I wonder why?
That night, on guard duty, I felt a sense of loss. I knew we had to get rid of that Kraut outpost, but at night, dreaming about the farm’s serenity, made me feel all warm inside. That was good because my feet were freezing.
We would make one more trip back to the farm. The mission was to see if the house and barn were leveled. As usual, the patrol left in the morning. We crawled to the top of the knoll and peered over the rim. We found both buildings burned to the ground. We hiked down the slope and advanced to the charred area.
We looked beyond the foundations, and there strewn in the direction of the Kraut frontline, were the meager belongings of whoever was probably hiding somewhere on the grounds. The tenants must have had a hidey hole somewhere. It was sad because we were not in the habit of bothering civilians. The Krauts on the other side must have signaled them when we were coming. I figured they were there to relay information to the Germans, so burning the farm down, was the right thing to do.
I want you to know that I have but one regret about this episode of my war experiences. I ate a piece of one of the Three Little Pigs. It was delicious, and I wolfed it down.
Editor’s note: the lieutenant was 1st Lt Albert C. Sauerman (O-1030718).