Heroes: the Army
"...I saw Taylor fall to the ground, he was walking beside Holm. Holm immediately knelt beside Taylor and removed the sweater Taylor had tucked over his web belt then he himself was struck down falling beside Taylor..."
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Promise Made -
Promise Kept
by:
Fielding Tucker
36th Infantry Division
Saint-Leonard, a name that has continually come to mind over the years is a quaint little village situated in the foothills of the Vosges.
It was not long after our encounter with the Germans near this village that I made myself a promise, one not to be forgotten, a promise I would keep many years to follow. The incident bringing about this promise I have lived with since November 20, 1944. It was a promise made out of both fear and anger that some day in the future if it be God's will I would return to that very same spot.
Much had happened since that day, a marriage, a job that barely produced enough food and clothing and housing for a family of 10, the every day of worries of raising such a large family. Locked away in the back of my mind over those years Saint-Leonard survived. God gave me the means to keep my promise and on November 20, 1992 I found myself once again walking those very same grounds. I returned to Saint Leonard finding it a taste of both the "bitter" and the "sweet." Not only was I so fortunate to return in 1992, but on Nov. 20, 1994 and again on November 20, 1998.
It was at Saint-Leonard during the early morning hours of Nov. 20, 1944, where we became engaged in a firefight with the Germans. Our patrol had been sent across the Meurthe River to check the German strength. Two close friends, Archie Taylor and Charley Holm lost their lives as a result of this patrol on that bitter cold morning; another in our group, Charles Monastero was also wounded.
The 36th with no relief in 98 combat days was given the task of protecting the corps and Army right flank and taking over the positions of the 103rd Infantry Division. We were in the high grounds south of Sarupt, east of the Meurthe River. It was with a freezing rain that morning when patrols were sent out across the Meurthe River in the Saint Leonard and Anould areas. I Company was among the ones from the 3rd Battalion forming patrols for the mission. Most were tired and with little sleep, we had hoped for a short reprieve after taking over the 103rd's positions.
There were times when someone would volunteer to take part in a patrol hoping to come back with a prize Lugger to send home and it is my firm belief that Charley Holm had volunteered for this mission. Hardly ever would there be a squad leader and assistant squad leader from the same squad going on the same patrol.
Holm, hailing from Hunnington, West Virginia was the cheerful type of fellow he was a good squad leader dedicated and loyal to those above him as well as those serving under him. Holm was highly interested in the German weaponry as well as their radios. Often Holm would be seen tinkering with one of his captured prizes.
Holm, a seasoned, wounded combat veteran and veteran of the Rapido River crossing was born and raised in Huntington, West Virginia by an uncle. He was a souvenir seeker at heart and maybe his fancy for radios was a carryover from having lived with an uncle who operated a radio repair shop. One late rainy evening while we were sitting around in our tent cleaning our rifles Holm talked about being raised by his uncle and that his family had never seen him in uniform.
Of those in our original group who completed basis training together and by luck was assigned to the same company only three of us remain, Archie Taylor and Daniel Tubb and myself. Rayford Tadlock was wounded at Valletri and sent home and Tessa was killed just before we crossed the Moselle River. It seems odd that our last names all began with the letter, "T." Taylor, Tubb and I were most fortunate having remained together through basic training Italy and most of France.
Taylor, from Pinola, Mississippi being the Mississippi farm boy that he was often kept us entertained by telling of his life on the family farm, about his girlfriend he had to leave behind. He often spoke of the times when they would sit in her front porch swing during the summer nights. Her father was very strict and protective of his daughter about dating.
Taylor reminisced how he would only visit whenever he knew her father was going to be late coming home. They would have the freedom of her front porch swing doing what young teenagers did until they heard her dad chugging up the winding gravel road in his model A Ford.
Taylor's explained that his occupation as a farmer delayed his induction into the service for several years but finally he was caught up in the draft and had to leave his family and the farm to take up arms. Taylor carried with him the gut feeling that he was not going to survive the war. That day when his family and his girlfriend accompanied him to the railroad station in Amory he cried confiding in her his feelings about not coming home.
Our mission was to cross the Meurthe at Saint Leonard and seek the strength of the enemy and bring back prisoners if possible. Including me, Holm, and Taylor there was an attached radio operator who carried the backpack type SCR-300 radio. Charles Monastero and another whose last name I remember as being Taylor carried the BAR; he was no kin to Archie. Others I don't recall their names this was a period when I Company had taken on its share of replacements.
Charley Holm would be in the lead of our group with Taylor following directly behind; I was the last man bringing up the rear following the radio operator.
Committed to the lines for so long and without relief most were weary and tired and without sleep. I don't think any of us realized the danger that lay ahead. Until now things had been relatively quiet we were anxious to complete this mission and get back in time for a breather before moving out again.
From where we stood looking down into the valley the route we would follow to the Meurthe River looked like any normal countryside back home. The terrain somehow reminded me of the country and bottomlands back on my Aunt Julia's farm at Oak Ridge, Mississippi.
It was cold that windy morning with light rain mixed with sleet it was decided we would travel light with only standard gear, weapons, ammunition and canteens.
We had drawn our ammunition and filled our canteens and were standing around near a path leading down the mountain we were waiting for orders to move out. I remember glancing up at the tree branches above noticing how they were weighted down with ice, some bending to the ground.
Taylor was truly an attention getter he had started doing his down on the farm act trying to keep us entertained as we moved about trying to keep warm. He was doing his "Billy Goat" act butting a comrade or two who tried to wave him off. Taylor was our morale booster especially times like this, briefly distracting our minds away from what is real.
At approximately 10:00 A.M. and still with rain we moved out following the winding, narrow path down the mountainside. Like other patrols I had been a part of this one seemed more like a group of friends walking down a street back home. Most of us were talking, laughing, smoking and carrying on. We didn't seem to keep the standard distance between one another as we walked in groups of two's and three's. We remained within the tree line following a railroad track before we came to what looked like a garage type building. We sat around here for a short period before continuing on and leaving the railroad track and cover of the trees and out into the open where we crossed over a meadow.
Within sight of the village we came to a small canal spanned by a narrow iron rail footbridge. It was high above the stream and tricky to cross over. There were no handrail only two narrow flat metal foot rails making it difficult to keep balance.
As in most villages civilians would be out and about but this one seemed to be deserted. The Germans had set fire to most all of the buildings. Only the walls of stone still supported some roofs not completely burned.
We approached the Meurthe River in the vicinity of a building that had a tall-round red brick chimney where we found the water too deep to cross over. We followed the bank upstream searching for shallower water coming to what appeared to be the main street leading into town. This would be our crossing point where a bridge spanning the river had been blown by the Germans. There were large pieces of concrete protruding from the shallower water with distances between some chunks more than others that made it difficult to span without stepping off into the shoulder deep water.
(?) Taylor, no kin to Archie who was carrying the BAR found it difficult to keep his balance and it was of no surprise to us to see Holm shoulder the heavy weapon and carry it over to the other bank.
Holm had already made it up the steep bank while I was still below searching for the best way up. I noticed him looking down at me with that silly grin on his face, he had just finished taking a drink of water and was holding his canteen as the water of the Meurthe seeped from his boots. Holm showed little signs of being cold although it was freezing.
Shortly after crossing the river we came to a railroad yard where there was a factory of some sort, this may have been a large machine shop with many windows shattered by the fire that gutted the building. Nearby we walked in deep cinder rocks between the rails where there was a large crane spanning the tracks.
It was here in the vicinity of the crane where we left the tracks continuing in the parallel direction of the village before branching off into the open meadow facing the hills. As we progressed along we followed a borderline made up of small saplings and dense brush dividing the fields that provided us with little or no cover whatsoever. A narrow and shallow ditch zigzagged through the field that might have been a drainage ditch.
We were walking along beside this ditch when Germans entrenched in the hills above began firing down into the open field with rifles and machine guns pinning us to the ground. We had no where to go only the shallow ditch that was not deep enough to conceal our bodies. I saw Taylor fall to the ground, he was walking beside Holm. Holm immediately knelt beside Taylor and removed the sweater Taylor had tucked over his web belt then he himself was struck down falling beside Taylor.
I felt as if the Germans had been following our every footstep as we crossed this field and had been patiently waiting for the right moment. The Germans fired with no letup keeping us pinned down; we were returning fire with little or no effect on a non-visible enemy. Rounds coming so close to our heads splattering into the frozen ground sounded like someone popping a whip beside your ear.
Most of us had used our limited amount of ammunition; some were holding empty weapons. At that moment I was not sure if the radio operator was wounded, his backpack radio was on the ground a few yards away I could hear a voice and crawled closer pulling the radio towards me. It was an artillery observer trying to get our attention. I grasped the receiver pleading for smoke that might conceal us from the Germans.
I kept repeating my request over and over only to hear the observer repeat his same message back again. I could hear him but he could not hear me talking. He was probably on the hill to our rear looking down into the valley. In my confusion I failed to notice the butterfly switch on the hand receiver it had to be turned in order to converse. Realizing this I repeated my request again hoping to get through and finally there was a reply. He heard me and I repeated my request for smoke to conceal us then asked for high explosives on the hill where the Germans were dug in. The first round of smoke landed far beyond us up on the hill the range was off.
I think it was about the fourth try that a round of smoke landed between where we lay and at the hill. My request for the high explosives into the hillside was right where I hoped the Germans were entrenched. The observer asked if we needed medics and right away my reply was yes if they could reach us.
We made it to Taylor and Holm under cover of the smoke finding Taylor still conscious but he was bleeding badly from a wound in his chest.
I realized then what Holm was doing with the sweater he was attempting to use it as a compress to stop the bleeding. Taylor was also struck in the thumb of his right hand. Since most of us were carrying our weapons at port arms I would guess that a single round passed through Taylor's thumb and into his chest. Holm lay dead beside Taylor a bullet had entered his helmet close to where the chinstrap is attached passing through his temple he died instantly.
The artillery bombardment on the hillside succeeded in stopping the Germans and the smoke screen began floating away as we prepared to cross back over the Meurthe, we had nervously waited for the medics with a litter who finally met us.
Another wounded but not so seriously was Charles Monastero who was able to walk on his own. We had no choice other than to leave Holm where he fell. Taylor was in a lot of pain and we had to carry him back across the river on the rocks. On the way the medic cautioned us to stay in step so not to jolt the stretcher. We were taking turns helping with the stretcher and I could not help but notice there was no bleeding from the wound on Taylor's thumb, maybe because of the severe cold it had jelled.
It seemed a much longer struggle back having to carry the stretcher but somehow we managed fording the river again. It was slow and tedious having to balance ourselves lifting Taylor across and somehow we did it without any further incident.
Later that same day Daniel Tubb and his squad in an attempt to recover the body of Holm were forced back before reaching the field. I am not sure about these being of the same group that fired on us.
On the 23rd word came that Taylor had died of his wounds. For those few of us who had begun a lasting friendship beginning with training in the red clay hills at Fort McClellan this would be a dark day. Having to leave Charley Holm lying in the field and word of Archie Taylor's death left a big void, Holm, Taylor, and I had been together for a long time.
I will never forget standing at the bottom of the bank at the Meurthe River and seeing Holm up above with that silly grin on his face looking down at us holding his canteen with water seeping from his boots.
Tubb and his squad would soon become prisoners of the dreaded SS in the Ribeauville area where we were in the path of the Germans' last big push.
Although Charley Holm was officially listed as MIA, with the help of my daughter-in-law, Marie, I managed to locate his grave at Saint-Avold, France. Charley had been buried where he fell by the people of Saint-Leonard and it was not until 1947 when he was removed from his grave and carried to the beautiful Saint-Avold American Military Cemetery.
The records at the cemetery state that among his numerous citations and two Purple Hearts, Holm was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross.
During my return to Saint-Leonard on Nov. 20, 1994, I stood near the site where we crossed the Meurthe Rive. A new bridge spans the water there now; some pieces of concrete from the old blown bridge can still be seen below the shallow water.
I tried hard to visualize Holm standing on that bank looking down at me with that silly grin on his face holding his canteen with the river water seeping from boots.
As I walked those same grounds that day I wanted to image that Holm and Taylor were just up ahead.
FDT
Interested in some background
information?
Check out the related links below...
American Battle Monuments Commission: WWII Honor Roll
National World War II Memorial
Information and photographs were generously provided to World War II Stories -- In Their Own Words by Mr. Fielding D. Tucker of --------. Our sincerest THANK YOU for allowing us to share his stories!
Original Story submitted on 1 August
2008.
Story added to website on 7 August
2008.
September 5,
2002.