Phil’s thoughts were interrupted by hearing and feeling the tremors from massive detonations. He looked back at Holtzwihr. Several buildings exploded while others erupted in fire. GIs appeared at the back of the town, running for their lives toward him. He watched in horror as they were mowed down by German rifle and machine gun fire. His heart sank as he realized his own perilous position.[1]

There’s no way Calvert would go down without a fight! Phil thought, as he helplessly watched a brigade of German Panzers, which had not been stopped in the town, rumble out of the city. The tanks spread out in front of him and cut down the final remaining men, whether they were running for their lives or had their hands up in surrender.

As he said a quick prayer for Ross, he realized that if the bastards were killing men who were surrendering, then they were killing every GI in the town, confirming his suspicion that Ross was gone—of that he had no doubt. 

His thoughts were interrupted, however, as vicious gunfire from one of the tanks erupted around their position. He could see not only the surge of onrushing tanks, but also armored vehicles and infantry pouring out of the town. Lacking armored support, having no available artillery, no chance of relief from the air, and no way to dig into the frozen earth, Phil and his men had no defense.

The Germans began blasting them with five tanks, with shells hitting all around them, tearing into the frozen soil, making huge black craters in the snow. Machine gun bullets cracked right over their heads. Phil had no choice but to order his men, made up of small groups from several units, to withdraw back to the Orchbach stream bridge, which was about 450 yards just east of the Maison Rouge Bridge. He thought he could at least try to have his men set up a defense line, using the bank and a few trees for cover. As he set the line, other terrified GIs sprinted back without weapons, packs, or any equipment—only a few even had rifles or helmets. He and a couple of other officers began to organize the panicked men.

Phil set up his men near the stream, while other officers positioned their Infantrymen in defensive positions just to their east. Unfortunately, their frantic attempts to dig foxholes in the frozen earth made them easy targets for the oncoming Germans, the rings of brown dirt on the snow forming perfect bull’s-eyes for the onrushing tanks.

Phil watched a nightmare unfold in front of him as some of the German tanks pivoted to steer over the shallow holes, mercilessly crushing the soldiers. Any troops making a run for it were raked and shredded to pieces by tank machine gun fire. One young lieutenant trying to surrender his platoon was mowed down, and all his men were slaughtered. Within moments, German infantry had taken any remaining men east of the Orchbach prisoner and were trotting them back to the woods.

“Rattler!” Phil yelled into the radio, reaching Colonel McGarr. “Our defensive positions on the east bank of the Orchbach are getting blasted. We have only a few weapons and little ammo left. Can you support our position? We need help now, or we’re dead. Just shred the area in front of us with any artillery you have. You may kill some of us, but the damn Krauts will kill all of us!”

“Rattler, here. Artillery is ready and available. Bridge repair ongoing, so no armor. First Battalion’s pulling back also. Now that I know your positions, we’ll blast the shit out of the squareheads and lay down smoke. When it’s thick enough and you deem it safe, get the men back here.”

As soon as Phil acknowledged the order, the artillery opened up. Seven American field artillery battalions and two French battalions swept the area from the Orchbach to the Riedwihr Woods, laying down the heaviest fire put out by division artillery since the Anzio Beachhead breakout. Between 1952 and 2050 hours, artillery fired 565 rounds on the enemy counterattack, while from from 2050 to 2200 hours, it delivered another 244 rounds of harassing fire. 

Under this protection, Phil ordered his men to cross the neck-deep, icy Orchbach and retreat to the Ill River. The men plunged into the freezing current in a desperate attempt to make the other side. One of those soldiers was a machine gunner from Company L, Edward L. Drabczyk, who was lugging a heavy .30-caliber machine gun.

“I hit that damn stream with ice up to my chest,” he remembered. “Then I slipped, and the thirty-pound gun fell in the water. I dove to pick it up, but I felt like I was going to faint. I got it on my shoulder but couldn’t stand. I knew I was going to drown—I was a dead man—but I could not abandon the weapon. This was drilled into me at boot camp. Suddenly, I felt someone pull the gun off my shoulder and pull me and my gun out of the water. It was my commander, Phil Larimore. He said, ‘Come on, Drab. Let’s go!’ So, we got to the opposite bank, and we made it.”

The men, lashing out with a fury born of desperation, struggled their way back through the frozen snow to the Maison Rouge bridgehead. As they approached the Ill River, Phil was met by First Battalion Commander Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie E. Porter. “Larimore,” he commanded, “Get the wounded and soaked across the Ill. The engineers have set up a foot bridge. Then get back and meet me at the farm—you and those who can.”

Phil, cold and soaking wet himself, thought about protesting, but after getting most of the men across the river, he and several of the men returned to meet the colonel at the stone farmhouse. Porter quickly organized Phil and the other junior officers in setting a line of defense to protect the bridge. As additional retreating stragglers appeared, they were directed across the river if they were either wounded or hypothermic. Those who were able stayed to fight. Although terribly chilled, the offensive spirit was still present. Most came from the remnants of at least six companies.

Phil was given the task of organizing a series of OPs in front of and beside the farm buildings. The A&P men who had come up with Porter and had lost their lieutenant operated under Phil’s command and began setting up concertina wire and mines around the OPs, while Phil and the rest of the men stockpiled as much ammunition as they could from the rear.

Behind them, frustrated tank and tank destroyer crews on the west bank of the Ill River watched the debacle. Shortly after, as the sunlight began to fade, they spotted German assault guns moving up two by two, each section covering the advance of the other. Anti-tank and artillery fire kept the counterattacking force at bay for a while, but sometime after dark, the boundaries of the bridgehead appeared to be in German hands, though no one could tell for sure.

At 2000 hours, Regimental Executive Officer Lieutenant Colonel Richard H. Neddersen, the acting interim commander as Colonel McGarr had rushed to the front to meet and reorganize his men, ordered all available artillery to “pound the ground” a thousand yards east of the bridgehead. Every five minutes, he pulled it in 200 yards. This was to give the final escaping troops a chance to get back.

Under cover of darkness, as fresh uniforms and coats were brought up to the farm buildings, Phil would send the men, two at a time, to change, warm up, eat, and then return to the battlefield. Once dry and warm, with their weapons at their sides, one of the men told Phil: “Yes, sir, we can hold! No damn Kraut is going to kick the hell out of us and get by with it!”

Then, terrible news began to fall from the heavens—literally. Enemy artillery shot canisters filled with propaganda leaflets claiming that over one hundred members of Companies I and K of his 30th Infantry had been captured.

The leaflet read:

NOTHING BUT LIES!!!!

GERMAN MILITARY DEFENSE HAS BEEN LAMED!!!

THE GERMANS HAVE NO MORE TANKS!!!

Didn’t they tell you so? Well, it was nothing but lies!!!

SOLDIERS OF THE 30TH INFANTRY!!!

What is the real truth? You know now your best formations

were flung hit-or-miss in the battle for Colmar.

REALLY SOMEBODY PLAYING DIRTY TRICKS ON YOU!!!!

You fought bravely but during the attack across the open plain,

the violent artillery fire caused you severe losses.

Lt. Darwin[2] Walker, Co I, 30th Infantry,

Lt. A.H. Stevens, Co K, 30th Infantry, and over

100 men are glad enough to have escaped

out of this senseless bloodshed.

They have not been shot nor have they been tortured

as your newspapers keep telling you.

After having a good dinner, they were transported to a POW camp,

which like the rest is supervised by the International Red Cross.

They are awaiting the end of the war in peace and comfort.

For them the war has already had a happy end and

peacetime has already arrived.

AND YOU????

Receiving those dispiriting leaflets may have been the lowest point in the regiment’s history. After Phil read a leaflet, he wadded it up and threw it to the ground. With tears welling up, he bowed his head to pray for his dear friend Ross Calvert. If he had been captured, the Germans certainly would have mentioned him in the leaflet. Phil now knew his friend was dead.

~~~~~

[1] Larimore, At First Light, 192.

[2] The German’s misspelled Lt. Walker’s first name, Darwyn.

[3] Larimore, Ibid, 192-196.

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