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The Battle of the Bulge: Mac
In the Autumn of 1944, a young Captain of Infantry nicknamed Mac reported for duty as Commanding Officer of I (Item) Company, 3rd Battalion, 23rd Infantry Regiment, 2nd Infantry Division. 3/23 was under the command of Colonel Paul V. Tuttle, whose efforts during the Battle of the Bulge would earn him the Distinguished Service Cross. At the time Mac reported to the 2nd Division it was in a support role in a quiet sector.
Mac went on to write his memoirs after the war. Excerpts from his book are in this type.
Mac felt inadequate to the task ahead.
Company I, 23rd Infantry, I thought. You came ashore in Normandy on D plus one. You battled to the top of Hill 192 to pave the way for the St. Lô breakout. You stormed the ring of pillboxes at Brest and had your number reduced to fifty in the explosion as the Germans blew them up in your faces. And now they give you a company commander fresh from the States. They ask you to put your faith in me.
I felt weak and ineffectual.
Capt. Mac had arrived in October, 1944. Several weeks of patrolling and back and forth followed until the second week of December. On December 17, Item Company and the rest of the 3rd[FONT=Times New Roman, serif] Battalion, 23rd Infantry, were ordered forward. Colonel Tuttle told his officers as much as he knew.[/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]There was a serious expression on the Colonels face as he pointed to his maps.[/FONT]
There has been a Kraut penetration in the 99th Divisions sector. Near Rocherath, he said. We are to move as soon as possible to a forward assembly area in the woods near this road junction about a mile beyond Rocherath. Thats about all the information I can give you, except that were not going to participate in our divisions attack. I dont know whether we attack or defend. Montgomery (Capt. Morris B. Montgomery, Battalion Operations Officer) and I are leaving now to contact the regimental commander from the 99th.
Things got interesting as soon as Item Company reached the road junction. Capt. Montgomery told MacDonald to take his company about 600 yards down the road and dig in. They moved out.
Which ways the enemy? I asked, half making light of the assignment.
I dunno. Nobody seems to know a go**ammed thing. They say its that way, and he motioned with one arm to the east.
The sound of small arms fire came from somewhere far down the road. In the gathering darkness I saw a soldier run toward us from the woods on the right. I could make out an Army truck parked beneath the trees behind him and other soldiers gathered in a group around the truck.
Hey! the soldier called, motioning to us, Dont go down there! Thats where the fightins goin on!
His words astonished me. I wondered why he thought we had come this far if we did not know there was fighting going on. I accepted it as one of wars crazy incidents.
I know it buddy, I said. Thats why were going. But thanks.
I looked at Savage (Sergeant Raymond Savage, company communications sergeant). He raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders.
The slow mournful scream of Nebelwerfer shells pierced the air. The men began to scatter to the sides of the road. I signaled for the company to follow, and we plunged into the woods to the left of the road, our packs and equipment rattling loosely as we ran. It was only a moment before the big shells began to explode to our rear.
My God! I thought. Theyve hit the road junction!
A moment of silence followed the explosions, and I wondered how much damage the shelling had done. I was deeply thankful that I had succeeded in getting my company away from the road junction, and now I wanted to put as much distance as possible between us and the target area.
Mac got his men into position and they began to dig in. The situation deteriorated rapidly. The battalion of the 99th Division somewhere to their front was in dire straits. Mac listened with increasing concern as his artillery liaison (the battalion was supported by 99th Division guns) spoke with his opposite number in the cut off battalion. The other troops were cut off and would try to fight their way out leaving most of their equipment, and their aid station, behind.
I called the platoon leaders and told them the message we had overheard, then notified battalion. I told the platoon leaders to be alert for the men of the 99th. The Germans would not be far behind.
I took stock of our defensive situation. We were one rifle battalion thrust into a densely wooded area, with no terrain features that favored the defender, with orders to hold at all costs. We were hastily dug in along a highway facing the direction from which we hoped the enemy would come, if he had to come. No company had been able to withhold a support platoon there was no support company thus the defense was a thin single line of infantry.
Macs company also had some anti-tank capability: two M4 Shermans that were attached to his company and a bazooka with three rockets. To his horror, Mac found out that the Shermans had redeployed without consulting anyone and watched them disappear down the road. Only some 200 men of the original 900 from the 99th Divisions battalion ever made it back. The German infantry was following closely and soon hit I Companys lines. Seven times they came. Seven times the thin line of infantry beat them back. However, I Company was running low on ammo and the artillery liaison reported the cannons were running out as well.
Despite overwhelming numbers the Germans could not generate enough firepower at critical points to break the line. This is not surprising. Moving a body of infantry through wooded terrain on a mild spring day with plenty of sunshine is quite difficult. The Germans faced the added attractions of cold, snow, fog, and determined fire from American infantry and artillery. Then The Kraut played his hole card, the massive 70-ton King Tiger heavy tank boasting 6 inches of steel armor and mounting three machineguns and a long-barreled 88mm cannon capable of dismantling a Sherman at any range youd care to name.
I looked at my watch. It was 3:30 in the afternoon. Time was passing amazingly fast.
Long (1st Lt. Long Goffton, CO of 1st Platoon) said he saw enemy tanks! There were five of them, giant Tigers lumbering down the road three hundred yards away, surrounded by over a hundred enemy infantrymen.
Get those Shermans into action. Its your only hope. You might hold off the infantry, even with your ammunition practically exhausted, but riflemen cant fight Tiger tanks. The 1st Platoon has your only three rounds of bazooka ammo. Unless the Shermans can stop them, three rockets are all that is between you and I Company and Kingdom Come.
I gave our call sign over the radio and asked for Colonel Tuttle and told him my plight. Either I got those tanks back to my left flank or I could not possibly hold the positions. I waited for the Colonels answer and tried barrage after barrage to destroy the big Tigers with artillery and mortars, but we made not a single hit and the near misses only stopped the infantry temporarily, not fazing the great steel monsters in the least. They waddled effortlessly on toward the hapless infantry.
A round of 88mm fire snapped the top from a fir tree above our heads and fragments sprayed in all directions. There could be no doubt now. The Tigers had arrived.
Round after round crashed into the area a momentary shrill whistle followed by a deafening explosion and the sharp thud of the round being fired, the latter reaching us after we heard the shell explode.
For Gods sake, Capn Long screamed over the phone, his voice half-sobbing. Get those tanks down here. Do something, for Gods sake. These bastards are sitting seventy-five yards away and pumping 88s into our foxholes like we were sitting ducks! For Gods sake, Capn!
What about your bazooka? He said a bullet had gone in one end and bent the tube so the rocket would not pass through it.
Colonel Tuttle was back on the battalion radio. The tankers said it would be suicide for them to face the Tiger Tanks and he was inclined to agree.
I burned with anger, and I must have been insubordinate. If my men could fight the armor-plated monsters with nothing but rifles and die in the attempt, the tankers could afford to try it with medium tanks.
If we dont get the tanks, we cant hold another five minutes, I said slowly and finally, Thank you, Sir. Roger. Out.
Shades of General Custer. Company Is last stand. Hell, what does it matter? You never expected to get out of this war alive anyway. Not really.
I gave Long the news. He was frantic. There was absolutely nothing he and his men could do. A direct hit had landed on one of his heavy machine guns. Another had hit Technical Sergeant Smiths foxhole. Smith was the platoon sergeant. Long didnt know if he was dead or not. The other machine gun crew was out of ammunition and was withdrawing. He was powerless to stop them. He was afraid his left flank in the draw was falling back, but he couldnt see to make sure.
Hold, Long! I cried. For Gods sake hold! Weve got to hold!
I wondered how I made my voice so convincing. I wanted to throw away the platoon phone and the battalion radio and everything connected with the war and bury my head in my hands and cry, cry, cry.
The infantry assault upon the other platoons continued. The sound of battle reached a height which I had never thought possible before. The burst of 88mm shells in the woods vied with the sound of hundreds of lesser weapons. It couldnt last forever, I though. It must stop sometime. It must stop. But when? And how?
Inevitably, the platoons began to break. Men just got up and began to walk to the rear. Their eyes spoke of too much. Too many Germans. Too many tanks. Too much.
Capt. MacDonald made his report over the radio.
I jumped into the slit trench and grasped the radio handpiece. I sat on the edge of the trench. Ignoring the whistle of bullets and the crash of 88mm shells around us as everyone seemed to be now doing. Get the platoon leaders on the phone, I called to Savage.
Hello Roger One, I said into the radio, not waiting for acknowledgment that they were receiving my message. This is Mac. My left flank has fallen back. I cant stop them. The Germans are overrunning my left platoon. Ill try to build another line along the firebreak. We cant hold here.
There. I had said it. This was I Company turning tail and running. This was I Company retreating. This was I Company hauling ass. This was I Company running like a sonofa*****. Strangely, I didnt give a damn. I was utterly devoid of feeling.
We reached the north-south firebreak and crossed it. The foxholes the battalion had occupied were along the far edge of the clearing in a patch of small interwoven firs. I knew that any fight here would be at close quarters but it was the only spot where there would be any possibility of holding.
The Germans soon came and the Tigers again put in an appearance. The rest of the company took off again. Capt. MacDonald found himself alone with a young machine-gunner named PFC Richard Cowan. Cowan was still defiantly spitting .30 caliber defiance at The Kraut. MacDonald ordered him to withdraw and then followed. For his actions, PFC Cowan earned the Congressional Medal of Honor.
Rank and organization: Private First Class, U.S. Army, Company M, 23d Infantry, 2d Infantry Division
Place and date: Near Krinkelter Wald, Belgium, 17 December 1944
Entered service at: Wichita, Kans.
G.O. No.: 48, 23 June 1945
Citation: He was a heavy machinegunner in a section attached to Company I in the vicinity of Krinkelter Wald, Belgium, 17 December 1944, when that company was attacked by a numerically superior force of German infantry and tanks. The first 6 waves of hostile infantrymen were repulsed with heavy casualties, but a seventh drive with tanks killed or wounded all but 3 of his section, leaving Pvt. Cowan to man his gun, supported by only 15 to 20 riflemen of Company I. He maintained his position, holding off the Germans until the rest of the shattered force had set up a new line along a firebreak. Then, unaided, he moved his machinegun and ammunition to the second position. At the approach of a Royal Tiger tank, he held his fire until about 80 enemy infantrymen supporting the tank appeared at a distance of about 150 yards. His first burst killed or wounded about half of these infantrymen. His position was rocked by an 88mm. shell when the tank opened fire, but he continued to man his gun, pouring deadly fire into the Germans when they again advanced. He was barely missed by another shell. Fire from three machineguns and innumerable small arms struck all about him; an enemy rocket shook him badly, but did not drive him from his gun. Infiltration by the enemy had by this time made the position untenable, and the order was given to withdraw. Pvt. Cowan was the last man to leave, voluntarily covering the withdrawal of his remaining comrades. His heroic actions were entirely responsible for allowing the remaining men to retire successfully from the scene of their last-ditch stand.
A .30 machinegun nest, Ardennes Forest, 1944 (US Army)
Mac made it to King Companys HQ by himself. He had no idea where anyone else from I Company was, or whether they were alive or dead. Soon the advancing Germans came here too, and once again Mac was forced to take to his heels.
Through my mind raced only one thought I had failed and failed miserably. My orders had been to hold at all costs, and I, personally, had failed, and because of my failure the entire battalion would be routed or annihilated. And all from a local German counterattack. I Company had fallen back, but I could not blame the men. They had given in because in some way I had not led them correctly. It was I who was responsible. I would turn in my captains bars if I ever reached the rear, or perhaps they would court-martial me. I did not care.
Eventually Mac made it back to the battalion Command Post and reported to Colonel Tuttle.
Colonel Tuttle was talking quietly with a group of officers. A dim candle lit the room.
Nice work, Mac, Colonel Tuttle said.
I could control myself no longer. The choking sensation in my throat became wracking sobs that I could not hold back. The Colonel tried to comfort me, and I felt foolish and childish, but I could not stop. Someone gave me a cigarette. I held it with trembling fingers.
I was suddenly conscious that Colonel Tuttle was saying something to me, but at first I could not make any sense of what he was saying. This had been no local German counterattack. The enemy had already broken through and taken Bullingen, catching the Division quartermaster and engineer troops unaware in the undefended town. Our battalion had held long enough for the 9th and 38th regiments to withdraw past the vital crossroads. There were unconfirmed rumors that this was a big German push all along the First Army front.
The news stunned me.
I stammered, "You mean you mean "
I mean you did a good job, Mac, the Colonel said. The Germans are throwing everything theyve got. You held out much longer than I expected after I learned the true situation.
So I had not failed! And I Company had not failed! I was almost happy the German offensive was on a large scale. My men had done an excellent job against heavy odds, and those who had died were not dead because of some personal failing of mine. The realization made me want to cry again.
I went with Captain Montgomery back to the barn outside.
We found a pile of fresh hay in the end of the barn facing the enemy. I dug out an armful and spread it in a rear corner of the barn. I was cold. My clothes were soaked and my feet were drenched, but I pulled a portion of the hay over me and drifted off into a sleep of utter exhaustion.
Much of I Company survived the initial assault and eventually turned up after their own adventures. Mac would command I Company until suffering a leg wound. After his evacuation and convalescence, he reported back only to find that I Company already had a new boss and he was assigned to G(eorge) Company of the 2nd Battalion. He would lead G Company until the end of the war.
Mac's real name was Charles B. MacDonald. The Army agreed with Colonel Tuttle and presented Captain MacDonald with the Silver Star for his part in I Company's stand in those godforsaken woods.
Source for all quotes except Pvt. Cowan's citation:
Company Commander by Charles B. MacDonald
Captain Charles B. MacDonald (U.S. Army)
After the war, Charles B, MacDonald went to work in the Armys Center of Military
History. He wound up writing two volumes of the Armys massive United States Army in World War II series and several other books on the American Army in the European campaign. By the 1970s he was considered one of the Deans of American military history.
I recall watching a show about a group touring Battle of the Bulge battlefield sites led by a veteran of the campaign. They kept referring to him as Charlie. It finally dawned on me that Charlie was Mac MacDonald. I was suddenly envious of the people on that bus.
Charles B. Mac MacDonald passed away in 1990.
It was men such as Mac and Private Cowan in a thousand engagements all over the Ardennes who cost the Germans the one thing they could not afford during the early days of the Battle of the Bulge: time.
In his last book, A Time for Trumpets Mac MacDonald penned a moving tribute to his comrades:
Hitler saw the American soldier as the weak component (the Italians) of the Western Alliance, the product of a society too heterogeneous to field a capable fighting force. ... The heterogeneity was indeed there, but at many a place - at Kinkelt-Rocherath, at Dom, atop the skyline drive, at the Parc Hotel, Echternach, Malmedy, Stavelot, Stoumont, Bastogne, Verdenne, Baraque de Fraiture, Hotton, Noville - the American soldier put the lie to Hitlers theory. His was a story to be told to the sound of trumpets.
Indeed.
Suggested reading:
Hugh M. Cole, The Ardennes: Battle of the Bulge (United States Army in World War II the Army's official history series)
Trevor N. Dupuy, Hitlers Last Gamble
Charles B. MacDonald, Company Commander and A Time for Trumpets
John C. McManus, Alamo in the Ardennes
Lester M. Nichols, Impact (10th Armored Division)
Danny S. Parker, The Battle of the Bulge
John Toland, Battle: The Story of the Bulge
In the Autumn of 1944, a young Captain of Infantry nicknamed Mac reported for duty as Commanding Officer of I (Item) Company, 3rd Battalion, 23rd Infantry Regiment, 2nd Infantry Division. 3/23 was under the command of Colonel Paul V. Tuttle, whose efforts during the Battle of the Bulge would earn him the Distinguished Service Cross. At the time Mac reported to the 2nd Division it was in a support role in a quiet sector.
Mac went on to write his memoirs after the war. Excerpts from his book are in this type.
Mac felt inadequate to the task ahead.
Company I, 23rd Infantry, I thought. You came ashore in Normandy on D plus one. You battled to the top of Hill 192 to pave the way for the St. Lô breakout. You stormed the ring of pillboxes at Brest and had your number reduced to fifty in the explosion as the Germans blew them up in your faces. And now they give you a company commander fresh from the States. They ask you to put your faith in me.
I felt weak and ineffectual.
Capt. Mac had arrived in October, 1944. Several weeks of patrolling and back and forth followed until the second week of December. On December 17, Item Company and the rest of the 3rd[FONT=Times New Roman, serif] Battalion, 23rd Infantry, were ordered forward. Colonel Tuttle told his officers as much as he knew.[/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]There was a serious expression on the Colonels face as he pointed to his maps.[/FONT]
There has been a Kraut penetration in the 99th Divisions sector. Near Rocherath, he said. We are to move as soon as possible to a forward assembly area in the woods near this road junction about a mile beyond Rocherath. Thats about all the information I can give you, except that were not going to participate in our divisions attack. I dont know whether we attack or defend. Montgomery (Capt. Morris B. Montgomery, Battalion Operations Officer) and I are leaving now to contact the regimental commander from the 99th.
Things got interesting as soon as Item Company reached the road junction. Capt. Montgomery told MacDonald to take his company about 600 yards down the road and dig in. They moved out.
Which ways the enemy? I asked, half making light of the assignment.
I dunno. Nobody seems to know a go**ammed thing. They say its that way, and he motioned with one arm to the east.
The sound of small arms fire came from somewhere far down the road. In the gathering darkness I saw a soldier run toward us from the woods on the right. I could make out an Army truck parked beneath the trees behind him and other soldiers gathered in a group around the truck.
Hey! the soldier called, motioning to us, Dont go down there! Thats where the fightins goin on!
His words astonished me. I wondered why he thought we had come this far if we did not know there was fighting going on. I accepted it as one of wars crazy incidents.
I know it buddy, I said. Thats why were going. But thanks.
I looked at Savage (Sergeant Raymond Savage, company communications sergeant). He raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders.
The slow mournful scream of Nebelwerfer shells pierced the air. The men began to scatter to the sides of the road. I signaled for the company to follow, and we plunged into the woods to the left of the road, our packs and equipment rattling loosely as we ran. It was only a moment before the big shells began to explode to our rear.
My God! I thought. Theyve hit the road junction!
A moment of silence followed the explosions, and I wondered how much damage the shelling had done. I was deeply thankful that I had succeeded in getting my company away from the road junction, and now I wanted to put as much distance as possible between us and the target area.
Mac got his men into position and they began to dig in. The situation deteriorated rapidly. The battalion of the 99th Division somewhere to their front was in dire straits. Mac listened with increasing concern as his artillery liaison (the battalion was supported by 99th Division guns) spoke with his opposite number in the cut off battalion. The other troops were cut off and would try to fight their way out leaving most of their equipment, and their aid station, behind.
I called the platoon leaders and told them the message we had overheard, then notified battalion. I told the platoon leaders to be alert for the men of the 99th. The Germans would not be far behind.
I took stock of our defensive situation. We were one rifle battalion thrust into a densely wooded area, with no terrain features that favored the defender, with orders to hold at all costs. We were hastily dug in along a highway facing the direction from which we hoped the enemy would come, if he had to come. No company had been able to withhold a support platoon there was no support company thus the defense was a thin single line of infantry.
Macs company also had some anti-tank capability: two M4 Shermans that were attached to his company and a bazooka with three rockets. To his horror, Mac found out that the Shermans had redeployed without consulting anyone and watched them disappear down the road. Only some 200 men of the original 900 from the 99th Divisions battalion ever made it back. The German infantry was following closely and soon hit I Companys lines. Seven times they came. Seven times the thin line of infantry beat them back. However, I Company was running low on ammo and the artillery liaison reported the cannons were running out as well.
Despite overwhelming numbers the Germans could not generate enough firepower at critical points to break the line. This is not surprising. Moving a body of infantry through wooded terrain on a mild spring day with plenty of sunshine is quite difficult. The Germans faced the added attractions of cold, snow, fog, and determined fire from American infantry and artillery. Then The Kraut played his hole card, the massive 70-ton King Tiger heavy tank boasting 6 inches of steel armor and mounting three machineguns and a long-barreled 88mm cannon capable of dismantling a Sherman at any range youd care to name.
I looked at my watch. It was 3:30 in the afternoon. Time was passing amazingly fast.
Long (1st Lt. Long Goffton, CO of 1st Platoon) said he saw enemy tanks! There were five of them, giant Tigers lumbering down the road three hundred yards away, surrounded by over a hundred enemy infantrymen.
Get those Shermans into action. Its your only hope. You might hold off the infantry, even with your ammunition practically exhausted, but riflemen cant fight Tiger tanks. The 1st Platoon has your only three rounds of bazooka ammo. Unless the Shermans can stop them, three rockets are all that is between you and I Company and Kingdom Come.
I gave our call sign over the radio and asked for Colonel Tuttle and told him my plight. Either I got those tanks back to my left flank or I could not possibly hold the positions. I waited for the Colonels answer and tried barrage after barrage to destroy the big Tigers with artillery and mortars, but we made not a single hit and the near misses only stopped the infantry temporarily, not fazing the great steel monsters in the least. They waddled effortlessly on toward the hapless infantry.
A round of 88mm fire snapped the top from a fir tree above our heads and fragments sprayed in all directions. There could be no doubt now. The Tigers had arrived.
Round after round crashed into the area a momentary shrill whistle followed by a deafening explosion and the sharp thud of the round being fired, the latter reaching us after we heard the shell explode.
For Gods sake, Capn Long screamed over the phone, his voice half-sobbing. Get those tanks down here. Do something, for Gods sake. These bastards are sitting seventy-five yards away and pumping 88s into our foxholes like we were sitting ducks! For Gods sake, Capn!
What about your bazooka? He said a bullet had gone in one end and bent the tube so the rocket would not pass through it.
Colonel Tuttle was back on the battalion radio. The tankers said it would be suicide for them to face the Tiger Tanks and he was inclined to agree.
I burned with anger, and I must have been insubordinate. If my men could fight the armor-plated monsters with nothing but rifles and die in the attempt, the tankers could afford to try it with medium tanks.
If we dont get the tanks, we cant hold another five minutes, I said slowly and finally, Thank you, Sir. Roger. Out.
Shades of General Custer. Company Is last stand. Hell, what does it matter? You never expected to get out of this war alive anyway. Not really.
I gave Long the news. He was frantic. There was absolutely nothing he and his men could do. A direct hit had landed on one of his heavy machine guns. Another had hit Technical Sergeant Smiths foxhole. Smith was the platoon sergeant. Long didnt know if he was dead or not. The other machine gun crew was out of ammunition and was withdrawing. He was powerless to stop them. He was afraid his left flank in the draw was falling back, but he couldnt see to make sure.
Hold, Long! I cried. For Gods sake hold! Weve got to hold!
I wondered how I made my voice so convincing. I wanted to throw away the platoon phone and the battalion radio and everything connected with the war and bury my head in my hands and cry, cry, cry.
The infantry assault upon the other platoons continued. The sound of battle reached a height which I had never thought possible before. The burst of 88mm shells in the woods vied with the sound of hundreds of lesser weapons. It couldnt last forever, I though. It must stop sometime. It must stop. But when? And how?
Inevitably, the platoons began to break. Men just got up and began to walk to the rear. Their eyes spoke of too much. Too many Germans. Too many tanks. Too much.
Capt. MacDonald made his report over the radio.
I jumped into the slit trench and grasped the radio handpiece. I sat on the edge of the trench. Ignoring the whistle of bullets and the crash of 88mm shells around us as everyone seemed to be now doing. Get the platoon leaders on the phone, I called to Savage.
Hello Roger One, I said into the radio, not waiting for acknowledgment that they were receiving my message. This is Mac. My left flank has fallen back. I cant stop them. The Germans are overrunning my left platoon. Ill try to build another line along the firebreak. We cant hold here.
There. I had said it. This was I Company turning tail and running. This was I Company retreating. This was I Company hauling ass. This was I Company running like a sonofa*****. Strangely, I didnt give a damn. I was utterly devoid of feeling.
We reached the north-south firebreak and crossed it. The foxholes the battalion had occupied were along the far edge of the clearing in a patch of small interwoven firs. I knew that any fight here would be at close quarters but it was the only spot where there would be any possibility of holding.
The Germans soon came and the Tigers again put in an appearance. The rest of the company took off again. Capt. MacDonald found himself alone with a young machine-gunner named PFC Richard Cowan. Cowan was still defiantly spitting .30 caliber defiance at The Kraut. MacDonald ordered him to withdraw and then followed. For his actions, PFC Cowan earned the Congressional Medal of Honor.
COWAN, RICHARD ELLER
Rank and organization: Private First Class, U.S. Army, Company M, 23d Infantry, 2d Infantry Division
Place and date: Near Krinkelter Wald, Belgium, 17 December 1944
Entered service at: Wichita, Kans.
G.O. No.: 48, 23 June 1945
Citation: He was a heavy machinegunner in a section attached to Company I in the vicinity of Krinkelter Wald, Belgium, 17 December 1944, when that company was attacked by a numerically superior force of German infantry and tanks. The first 6 waves of hostile infantrymen were repulsed with heavy casualties, but a seventh drive with tanks killed or wounded all but 3 of his section, leaving Pvt. Cowan to man his gun, supported by only 15 to 20 riflemen of Company I. He maintained his position, holding off the Germans until the rest of the shattered force had set up a new line along a firebreak. Then, unaided, he moved his machinegun and ammunition to the second position. At the approach of a Royal Tiger tank, he held his fire until about 80 enemy infantrymen supporting the tank appeared at a distance of about 150 yards. His first burst killed or wounded about half of these infantrymen. His position was rocked by an 88mm. shell when the tank opened fire, but he continued to man his gun, pouring deadly fire into the Germans when they again advanced. He was barely missed by another shell. Fire from three machineguns and innumerable small arms struck all about him; an enemy rocket shook him badly, but did not drive him from his gun. Infiltration by the enemy had by this time made the position untenable, and the order was given to withdraw. Pvt. Cowan was the last man to leave, voluntarily covering the withdrawal of his remaining comrades. His heroic actions were entirely responsible for allowing the remaining men to retire successfully from the scene of their last-ditch stand.
A .30 machinegun nest, Ardennes Forest, 1944 (US Army)
Mac made it to King Companys HQ by himself. He had no idea where anyone else from I Company was, or whether they were alive or dead. Soon the advancing Germans came here too, and once again Mac was forced to take to his heels.
Through my mind raced only one thought I had failed and failed miserably. My orders had been to hold at all costs, and I, personally, had failed, and because of my failure the entire battalion would be routed or annihilated. And all from a local German counterattack. I Company had fallen back, but I could not blame the men. They had given in because in some way I had not led them correctly. It was I who was responsible. I would turn in my captains bars if I ever reached the rear, or perhaps they would court-martial me. I did not care.
Eventually Mac made it back to the battalion Command Post and reported to Colonel Tuttle.
Colonel Tuttle was talking quietly with a group of officers. A dim candle lit the room.
Nice work, Mac, Colonel Tuttle said.
I could control myself no longer. The choking sensation in my throat became wracking sobs that I could not hold back. The Colonel tried to comfort me, and I felt foolish and childish, but I could not stop. Someone gave me a cigarette. I held it with trembling fingers.
I was suddenly conscious that Colonel Tuttle was saying something to me, but at first I could not make any sense of what he was saying. This had been no local German counterattack. The enemy had already broken through and taken Bullingen, catching the Division quartermaster and engineer troops unaware in the undefended town. Our battalion had held long enough for the 9th and 38th regiments to withdraw past the vital crossroads. There were unconfirmed rumors that this was a big German push all along the First Army front.
The news stunned me.
I stammered, "You mean you mean "
I mean you did a good job, Mac, the Colonel said. The Germans are throwing everything theyve got. You held out much longer than I expected after I learned the true situation.
So I had not failed! And I Company had not failed! I was almost happy the German offensive was on a large scale. My men had done an excellent job against heavy odds, and those who had died were not dead because of some personal failing of mine. The realization made me want to cry again.
I went with Captain Montgomery back to the barn outside.
We found a pile of fresh hay in the end of the barn facing the enemy. I dug out an armful and spread it in a rear corner of the barn. I was cold. My clothes were soaked and my feet were drenched, but I pulled a portion of the hay over me and drifted off into a sleep of utter exhaustion.
Much of I Company survived the initial assault and eventually turned up after their own adventures. Mac would command I Company until suffering a leg wound. After his evacuation and convalescence, he reported back only to find that I Company already had a new boss and he was assigned to G(eorge) Company of the 2nd Battalion. He would lead G Company until the end of the war.
Mac's real name was Charles B. MacDonald. The Army agreed with Colonel Tuttle and presented Captain MacDonald with the Silver Star for his part in I Company's stand in those godforsaken woods.
Source for all quotes except Pvt. Cowan's citation:
Company Commander by Charles B. MacDonald
Captain Charles B. MacDonald (U.S. Army)
After the war, Charles B, MacDonald went to work in the Armys Center of Military
History. He wound up writing two volumes of the Armys massive United States Army in World War II series and several other books on the American Army in the European campaign. By the 1970s he was considered one of the Deans of American military history.
I recall watching a show about a group touring Battle of the Bulge battlefield sites led by a veteran of the campaign. They kept referring to him as Charlie. It finally dawned on me that Charlie was Mac MacDonald. I was suddenly envious of the people on that bus.
Charles B. Mac MacDonald passed away in 1990.
It was men such as Mac and Private Cowan in a thousand engagements all over the Ardennes who cost the Germans the one thing they could not afford during the early days of the Battle of the Bulge: time.
In his last book, A Time for Trumpets Mac MacDonald penned a moving tribute to his comrades:
Hitler saw the American soldier as the weak component (the Italians) of the Western Alliance, the product of a society too heterogeneous to field a capable fighting force. ... The heterogeneity was indeed there, but at many a place - at Kinkelt-Rocherath, at Dom, atop the skyline drive, at the Parc Hotel, Echternach, Malmedy, Stavelot, Stoumont, Bastogne, Verdenne, Baraque de Fraiture, Hotton, Noville - the American soldier put the lie to Hitlers theory. His was a story to be told to the sound of trumpets.
Indeed.
Suggested reading:
Hugh M. Cole, The Ardennes: Battle of the Bulge (United States Army in World War II the Army's official history series)
Trevor N. Dupuy, Hitlers Last Gamble
Charles B. MacDonald, Company Commander and A Time for Trumpets
John C. McManus, Alamo in the Ardennes
Lester M. Nichols, Impact (10th Armored Division)
Danny S. Parker, The Battle of the Bulge
John Toland, Battle: The Story of the Bulge
