Western Front Chapter 6:
At the far end of the corridor two stretcher
bearers were in attendance. They were unmoved by
our arrival and looked us over as if we were
something the postie had dropped. Anyone who
could still walk was not absolutely serious.
Couldn't blame them really, they saw them coming
in every day, and in all conditions. The fellows
were immune to suffering, seeing so much over
the years but they did know the priorities when
they saw them and one of the medics got up and
led my companion down to the lower floor and
that was the last I saw of him.
"What happened to him?" The other medic asked.
"I don't know," I said, "he hasn't said a word
since I met him." He then asked what unit we
came from and I told him from the bunker line
along the Saar, Volksgrenadier Regiment 76 and
was just going to explain how we got here when
he said "Ahh! don't tell me, mit der Feldküche."
That rotten pea soup chariot must have been
known all over the district. The medic then took
a closer look at my bandage, a dark brown filthy
mess, part of it soft and still oozing blood but
suggested keeping the rag on a little longer as
it would only hurt if he took it off, besides,
they didn't have much to replace it with either.
Pointing to the bottom of the stairs he said,
"This place is full up." I glimpsed his wrist
watch and it showed 1.30, which meant I and my
silent partner had been crawling round the
countryside for about seven hours.
His offsider returned and took me down to the
lower floor dressing room. It was indeed a large
bunker, much larger than ours, with a fair sized
generator as lights were working everywhere. In
the dressing room they completed papers and hung
them round my neck ready for the field hospital.
They had run out of tetanus but said I'd get one
in St Wendel, if I got there! I was not too
worried about the needle, I'd had a few in the
past so should be reasonably immune, but didn't
appreciate his last remark. Why `if' we don't
make it?
They gave me a shoulder sling to rest the arm
and said to make myself comfortable on the
floor, if I could find a space. "It's not always
like this," he told me as though he felt obliged
to apologize for the crowded mess. "It's only
since yesterday that the casualties keep coming
at an increased rate and we can't cope any
more." He said the ambulances had already made
two extra trips to St Wendel and wouldn't be
back before early in the morning. I asked the
medic what had happened to my 'shadow'. "He is
already upstairs, and will be one of the first
to the loaded" he said, then as an after though,
"if the ambulances don't get wiped out on their
return run."
They did arrive, just after dawn. Two ambulances
and two trucks and they carried a fresh medic
crew from St Wendel. The vehicles were still not
enough to carry all the wounded in one trip, so
some would have to wait for their return trip
later in the day. I was lucky to be on the list
for the morning and was allocated a seat on one
of the trucks, the ambulances being reserved for
the serious cases like my silent friend from the
previous night. Boarding the vehicles we could
hear the tremendous machine gun and rifle fire
from over the hill, from the bunker line where
I'd left my mates. From the noise massive
slaughter was probably going on there and this
place would be full again by nightfall, though a
medic assured us the noise wasn't much different
from the previous days. Little time was lost
loading and the two ambulances took the lead.
There were eight wounded and two medics on our
truck and we sat on wooden benches along the
sides with walking space in the middle for our
minders to attend to the moaning and groaning of
their charges.
The tarpaulins were tightly closed and there was
no look- out placed to warn the driver of any
impending air attack, but the medics weren't
worried about that, assuring us the Red Cross
markings on the top gave us all the protection
we needed. An open back, with a look-out on the
tailboard would only draw suspicion. It looked
like the Americans adhered to the Geneva
Convention, perhaps not exactly for their love
of Germans but because there were a number of
Americans in various German prison camps.
We reached St Wendel with no incidents and I
must say I felt jolly relieved when we entered
the relative safety of the Lazarett, which was
run by nuns and sisters. It must have been a
sanatorium or some sort of spa in the better
times before the war, the kind of place where
the rich had the opportunity to get rid of their
excess money with very little trouble. It was a
large place though didn't look expensive any
more and was overcrowded, with wounded
transports coming in steadily from all sections
of the West Wall. General Patton and his Third
Army must be doing quite a job on our troops on
the Saar but perhaps the Americans were having a
torrid time as well, judging from the number of
casualties sitting around in Uncle Sam's
uniform.
****
`The West Wall prolonged the War by six month
and cost the Allied in dead and wounded, more
than that suffered by the US Army in Korea and
Vietnam combined.'
****
We were told we would be having showers and then
be examined by doctors, but as the hospital
shower facilities were limited in coping with
the increased intake of wounded we could be in
for a wait. And a long wait it was, but then it
didn't matter. I was reasonably all right and if
I didn't move the arm too much the pain was
bearable, but I was really hungry and could have
done with a bite of something. I hadn't eaten
anything since the night before last though,
looking around none of my fellow sufferers had
an overfed look, with the exception of the
Americans sitting there together. I was pretty
sure they would have something to nibble in
their numerous pockets, only were canny enough
not to produce it while being watched by the
`Nazi Krauts'. All stretcher cases had been
removed to some other part of the hospital and
were probably getting a nice bath and a clean up
by the nuns and nurses. I wondered what my
`shadow' would look like when they removed the
rags from his face.. Nuns and nurses came with
trolleys and distributed mugs of hot soup. I was
ready for it and I didn't care what it was but
two Americans across from me couldn't have been
too hungry; they took a look and pushed it away
with disgust written in their faces but a couple
of our blokes soon gobbled it up with immense
relish.
I fell asleep and it was night when I woke. Two
medics helped me to my feet, taking the tag from
my neck and asked me to follow them. I had a
quick look round the hall which was as full as
ever, only different faces. More transports had
come in while I was asleep. The Amis opposite me
had gone and I wonder where to. They took me to
the showers and cut off some of the blood-caked
foot rag, saying a good soak was needed. When I
returned a doctor was in the dressing room, a
young Leutnant. A medic took the rest of the
bandage off which left me gasping with pain and
the wound began to bleed again. The Leutnant had
a quick look and asked me to move my fingers
which I was unable to do. He made an entry on my
report tag, told the medics to give me a
injection and a paper bandage and then he was
gone.
one of the medics administered the tetanus into
my backside with the elan of a champion dart
thrower then took me to the kitchen and left me
with the night duty nuns. They gave me a bowl of
porridge and after inspecting my record told me
I would be transferred to Bad Kreuznach Hospital
for further treatment. They led me to a large
room already filled and showed me to an empty
straw sack in the far corner and I fell asleep
almost immediately.
The sounds of trolleys woke me. I'd slept
soundly and it was breakfast time and the nuns
were dishing out hot coffee and bread and jam.
We were told to be ready to be taken to the
station where a transport was waiting to take us
to Bad Kreuznach. Two large buses shuttled
between hospital and the station, not marked
with red crosses, but it didn't matter as the
town was under the protection of the Red Cross
Charter. The train, however, had proper Red
Cross markings on its roofs and sides just in
case, once outside the town's protective borders
in broad daylight, a fighter plane took a fancy
to a moving train for target practice.
A short trip of about 90 km and we were again
safely under the Red Cross protective umbrella
in the hospital town of Bad Kreuznach. The
hospital there was similar to the one we'd left
but had better medical facilities, though was
equally overcrowded. We were told we would be
checked over and according to the required
treatment would be sent to various hospitals
further inland for recuperation. After another
shower and reasonably good evening meal I bedded
down in a large dormitory with bunk beds and
mattresses and was told I was due for an X-ray
in the morning. There was constant traffic in
the dormitory with new arrivals and nurses
looking after their needs. I could hear the
planes overhead, presumably on their way to an
unsuspecting German city to bomb the life out of
its civilian population.
"Our aircraft occasionally killed women and
children"
"IIn spite of all that happened at Hamburg,
Bombing proved a comparatively humane
method?"!... Air Chief Marshal Sir Arthur
Harris: Bomber Offensive)
******
And the Brits erected a monument to Air Marshal
Sir Arthur Harris to honour his `humanity'!
******
I hoped those bombers up there wouldn't mistake
Bad Kreuznach for Frankfurt, which was only a
few odd kilometres across the Rhine. About
mid-morning I had my examination. The X-ray
showed a fracture of the wrist bone and I was
told I would be on call for one of the next
outgoing transports. Two trains would be going
sometime next day and I should be on one of
them. Next morning, after a peaceful night the
nurses were busy organizing the transfer by
buses from the hospital to the station and just
before midday the call came to board the bus.
Two hospital trains stood parallel to each other
at the station on loading ramps and by about
mid-afternoon we were aboard in comfortable
carriages with three-tier bunk beds and soft
seating arrangements for additional comfort. All
carriages were interconnected to give the
medical crews access to the compartments and the
steam engine had been connected from the start
of the loading so it was all warm and
comfortable.
The trains slowly moved out of the station, one
travelling close behind the other and I was in
the second one. We came to a halt at Gensingen,
the first station out of Bad Kreuznach and we
were then unaware of what went on outside. But
since both trains had to travel through Mainz
and Frankfurt which were prime targets for the
British night bombers, the defense authorities
were ordering that two four-barreled 2 cm anti
aircraft guns be attached to each train for
additional protection. The train in front, with
the gun carriage already hooked at the rear, was
scheduled to Gau, and to join the main line to
Mainz and Frankfurt there and its CO was in a
hurry to get through Frankfurt and the danger
zone before nightfall.
Our train was to bypass Mainz by going to Worms
and reach Frankfurt-Offenbach from the south.
Our Medical CO flatly. refused to have any gun
hooked to his train so we were delayed
considerably by that dispute and left Gensingen
station at nightfall and without a gun. Although
we were stationary quite a bit during the night,
caused by the inevitable air raid warnings,
there was no actual raid in the Frankfurt area
that night.
It was not until the early morning when it all
happened. Our train was just outside Frankfurt
main station, between Offenbach and Hanau and
there was an attack by American fighter bombers.
They came up from Aschaffenburg in low level
formations, strafing and bombing the line to
Hanau, Offenbach and Frankfurt main station and
every train that happened to be on that line. I
was on the top bunk and there was about a 5 cm
width of window through which I could peep. I
saw a Yankee plane flash past the window at not
more than treetop height and in that fraction of
a second I caught a glimpse of the pilot's face
and I could have sworn he was looking straight
at me. How lucky we had been that our Commander
refused the gun protection. That pilot would
have held his thumb on the trigger the whole
length of our train and we would have been just
another twisted wreck along the line.
We found out later that's exactly what happened
to our other train. They had cleared Frankfurt
and Hanau and came to grief just outside
Aschaffenburg where their guns took on the
attackers. The train was wiped off the line with
a terrible massacre of the already wounded
people on board. It took the engineers nearly
all day to clear the line to Aschaffenburg and
beyond before any traffic could proceed. We
slowly got going again in late afternoon.
Aschaffenburg station was a complete mess and we
travelled on makeshift tracks to reach the
relatively undamaged main line to Würzburg. The
nurses and staff on board dished out the evening
meal before nightfall and blackout and I crawled
on my bunk to savour another good night's sleep.
We left the main line at Gemünden and went on to
Bad Kissingen, Ebenhausen and Bad Neustadt. All
next day we travelled on secondary tracks
through the Thüringer Wald, down to Lausha and
Probstzella and by nightfall reached Jena and
Halle where we were shunted to a side track for
the rest of the night. Finally, in the early
morning light we pulled into Saalfeld, a Red
Cross town under the Geneva Charter, where we
were hospitalized and, for some of us, `patched
up' ready for yet more battles.