The FReeper Foxhole Remembers Leo J. Ghirardi - Remagen Bridge (3/7/1945) - Apr. 2nd, 2003

http://216.239.33.100/search?q=cache:guxwMKhnlWcC:209.238.202.160/council/journal/aug99/Ghirardi.html+%22remagen%22+bridge&hl=en&ie=UTF-8 ^

[SAMWolf]

Dear Lord,

There's a young man far from home,
called to serve his nation in time of war;
sent to defend our freedom
on some distant foreign shore.

We pray You keep him safe,
we pray You keep him strong,
we pray You send him safely home ...
for he's been away so long.

There's a young woman far from home,
serving her nation with pride.
Her step is strong, her step is sure,
there is courage in every stride.
We pray You keep her safe,
we pray You keep her strong,
we pray You send her safely home ...
for she's been away too long.

Bless those who await their safe return.
Bless those who mourn the lost.
Bless those who serve this country well,
no matter what the cost.

Author Unknown

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FReepers from the USO Canteen, The Foxhole, and The Poetry Branch
join in prayer for all those serving their country at this time.

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U.S. Military History, Current Events and Veterans Issues

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The Ludendorff Bridge At Remagen

The many battles and lives lost during World War II are now a matter of record. Future generations can appreciate the fact that the freedom we now enjoy did not come without a price, the blood of our nation’s young heroes. After all of these years, many veterans have passed on. However, thanks to them, our country is one of the freest nations on earth.

I have now reached the age of 83. As the years passed, I have been fortunate enough to retain a sharp memory of my World War II experiences. Many films have attempted to give their account of what occurs in combat, and, sadly, most of the fictionalized accounts are very inaccurate.

This photo was taken on July 27, 1945, the wedding day of the author, Brother Leo J. Ghirardi, 32°, with Beatrice "Dolly" Saben, his British "blind date." Their wedding ring was bartered from a German prisoner of war for one cigarette

At the time of the Battle of the Bulge, December 16–26, 1944, I was for a short while in Paris. Having been in the Armed Forces since 1940, I felt the need to ask for front-line duty. At that time, I did not have a fear of dying in battle. However, when I arrived in Belgium during the worst blizzard in recent times, I had second thoughts. Of course, it was too late. I was now near the heat of battle, and it was time to do my part for my country.

When I arrive at Elsenborn Ridge, I was assigned to L Company 394th Infantry of the 99th Division. The first orders I had as a sergeant were to set up a defense out in the snow. I asked the commanding officer about the men who were to be assigned to my platoon, and he said, "Sergeant, you are the platoon."

Time passed, and we were walking across the Cologne Plains in Germany. Luck was with our unit because we were following up in the rear of one of our regiments that was fighting miles ahead of us. In the distance we could see the steeple of a church and what remained of the city of Cologne, Germany, on the Rhine River. Night was falling quickly as we turned to the east of the city, which followed the banks of the Rhine. To prove to our division commander that we had really reached the river, one of us filled a bottle of water from it and presented it to him.



Our regiment was in the area of Neivenheim-Gohr on March 7 when, unknown to us, the dramatic message came through from division: "Corps to G3-9th. Armed capture RR bridge at 6520. In good order and convertible. They have one and a half Bn of Infantry across the Rhine River."

We had no way of knowing about the captured bridge as we walked most of the night along the banks of the river. However, as we approached the bridge at Remagen, the Germans were firing their 88s over to our side of the river. I feel that it is only fitting to record here the words of a medic, T/5 James Johnson, who wrote an account of what happened: "The war is moving plenty fast and furious; my hands have been literally steeped in the blood from the wounded. It is pitiful to hear four or five wounded men screaming, ‘Medic! Medic! I’m bleeding to death!’ It is bad enough during the day, but at night a wounded soldier is terrified by the utter separation in the pitch blackness lit only by bursting shells (whether he be German or American). There may be a hell in another world, but this one is sure putting up some stiff competition. Compare ‘fire and brimstone’ with twisted steel and bodies, spattered chunks of brains and intestines, shambled buildings, the screams of shells and the cracks of bullets, the stench of death, the earnest soul-searching prayer of the dying. The longer this war lasts the greater toll and hole this living hell will be cut into humanity."



I wasn’t alone when I felt the fear of death as those 88s kept coming in so near to my platoon. I will never forget jumping into a ditch of water and soft mud in an attempt to get away from them. There I was, covered with mud from head to foot. That I could live with. But when I discovered my M1 rifle filled with mud, I knew I had to find a clean one and fast. I got one from a Jeep driver as we crossed the river. I was still afraid that I would not be able to hit a target with it because I had never zeroed this rifle in.

After that eventful dip in the ditch, we soon were approaching the embankment that led to the rail line. Believe it or not, I thought we would make a mad dash across the bridge, but our company commander gave orders for us to walk across and to be sure to keep our distance. Try to imagine having a migraine headache all day and then finding you have to cross a bridge like this under heavy fire. To relieve my backpack, I dumped most of my equipment except for some ammo, hand grenades, and rifle.

Those truly brave men who tried to keep the bridge in one piece deserve the credit for getting us over to the other side of the river on March 7, 1945. I have often wondered how many of those boys lived to tell their story. From what I remember of the heavy fire as we crossed the river, I doubt that many of those young men survived.



As we approached the other side of the river, we saw the train tunnel which gave us courage to continue on. We thought we could take cover in the tunnel, but instead we turned eastward and walked along the river to find a city that was on fire.

After we crossed the river, we advanced and took more German prisoners. From our vantage point, we could see P38 fighters chasing the German planes away from the bridge. We watched the Ludendorff Bridge as it collapsed on March 17th and saw its crumpled remains in the Rhine River.

The medic James Johnson lived what he wrote. He was at Remagen as the enemy peppered it with high explosives as the 394th walked across. Shells came at the rate of one every 30 seconds that night. The 394th Regiment was one of the first units to cross the Rhine River, and they are an example of the individual heroism of men risking their lives to keep traffic flowing across the bridge as they treated and evacuated casualties and rallied the shell-shocked soldiers.



I hope that this essay will be kept as a record for future generations. I have heard and read about how brave soldiers are in combat, but, honestly, I was scared as never before or since, and being only human, I was afraid to die on a foreign battlefield.

I am writing this account of the crossing of the Remagen Bridge while my mind is still clear. Age is taking its toll on me. I am now almost 84 years old. I crossed the bridge when I was 29.

[cherry_bomb88]

Afternoon, Jen & all! Special Good Day to all of our troops!

Dear Any Service Member,

I do not know who you are or where you come from. I know not if you have a spouse or children. I don’t know your age, the color of your hair or the color of your eyes. Yet I pray endlessly for your safety and wish you Godspeed in your task. I pray for your family and friends that they have the courage and comfort they need. I pray that they are as proud of you as I am. I have endless admiration for the depths of your courage. You fight for my daughters, and me yet you know not our names. You have placed yourself in the face of grave danger and you stand fast and you stand true. My daughters and I cry with the families of your fallen compatriots.

I hope that you and the other brave men and women that stand shoulder to shoulder with you, both from our country and our allies, pay no heed to the medias portrayal of the protests that go on in America. Know that they only garner the attention of the media because they are not peaceful and they commit outlandish acts in a desperate attempt to be heard. They cannot accept the fact that the right to free speech does not give them a right to be heard and heeded. The majority of the country is behind you. Tens of thousands rallied in your support around the country over the last week. I know this to be true as I personally attended the rally in Chicago that outnumbered the protesters that assembled 10 to 1. Please know, dear service member, this country loves you, respects you, honors you and is grateful for the sacrifices you make on our behalf without even knowing who we are. Pay no attention to the protesters; they do not speak for us. Additionally, pay no attention to the Hollywood celebrities; they now more speak for the country than Saddam himself.

We watch the news with great intensity, praying endlessly that we will hear of no more prisoners or casualties. Our hearts sink and we shed tears as we hear of our losses…but make no mistake, these losses do not discourage us, rather our sadness only strengthens our resolve to see this through. Our strength increases, even through our sadness. Our wills gain resolve to ensure that you have the support, both in morale and in supplies, equipment and funding, that is necessary for you to achieve success in the mission that was set before you. We will not let you fail. We rally with greater intensity, we write letters to our congressmen & senators, and even to your commander-in-chief. We let them know the country stands behind them and that we support their efforts to ensure your ultimate success.

Dear service member, I hope this letter finds you safe and well and in as good as spirits as is possible. I hope that this letter increases that morale, knowing that the majority of the country is behind you. Please know that you and your loved ones have my gratitude, respect and endless prayers. Perhaps the words of one unknown person won’t seek to comfort you; however some how I know that if you fight for me, the unknown person, my words of comfort will find a place in your heart. Accomplish your mission, and come home safely, Godspeed.

With gratitude, love, respect, support & resolve for you unto the end of the war,

Victoria Lynn Dearing

[SAMWolf]

ROTFLMAO!!!

[SAMWolf]

Thanks DoughtyOne.

[SAMWolf]

Thanks Cherrybomb_88. I love the presentation.

[Marysecretary]

MUD, you never fail to give me a good laugh. You are a multi-talented dude! Love you, Maryxxx

[Feiny]

Love your tag line!

[snopercod]

My Grandfather knew Ken Hechler, who wrote the book. I think Grampa may have taken to meet Mr. Hechler when I was very young. I seem to remember something like that...

[SAMWolf]

I read the book, good account of the seizing of the bridge.

[Mudboy Slim]

Muchas gracias, senorita...MUD

[JAWs]

[SAMWolf]

Thanks JAWS. I have that movie in my library, IMHO one of the better WWII flicks.

[Mudboy Slim]

Wonderful letter, Ms. Dearing...MUD

[GailA]

Afternoon FRiends..Today's graphic

[SAMWolf]

Afternoon GailA.

[GailA]

Found this one and couldn't resit.....

[xJones]

Sam, I came back to correct my post #29, where I had assumed that Jessica Lynch had had her legs and one arm broken by Iraqis after her capture. I just read the following on another thread:

Lynch, a supply clerk with the 507th Maintenance Company from Fort Bliss, Texas, suffered multiple gunshot wounds in the ambush that led to her capture and had to be moved from the hospital with special care, Pentagon sources said.

It is possible that her legs and one arm were broken by Iraqi gunfire in the ambush and not afterwards.

[SAMWolf]

Don't worry about it. Lots of different stories going around right now, hard to tell what's true and what's not.

[MeekOneGOP]

:O)

[Soaring Feather]

Fresh from my email, my 77 years young Swede lady friend sent this one, too good not to share with The FOXHOLE! IMHO :-)



Subject: A NEW LEXUS

A blonde bought a new Lexus, and returned the next day, complaining that the radio didn't work. The salesman explained that the radio was voice activated.

"Watch this!" he said..."Nelson!"

The radio replied, "Ricky or Willie?"

"Willie!" he continued.... and "On The Road Again" came from the speakers.

She drove away happy, and for the next few days, every time she'd say, "Beethoven", she'd get beautiful classical music, and if she said, One day, another driver ran a red light and nearly creamed her new car, but she swerved in time to avoid him.

"A$$HOLE!" she yelled..... The French National Anthem began to play.

[SAMWolf]

LOL!