CHAPTER V
At 0800 we moved into an assembly area at Selzen. At 1530 we started moving towards the
Rhine. Our long convoy dragged along to Nierstein where the 5th had crossed, patiently waiting our
turn to go over. With a great roar, heralded by fanfares from the large amount of ack-ack guns, the
enemy planes came in strafing and bombing, desperately trying to knock out the bridge, but the result
was one knocked down plane. We all climbed back into trucks, left so hurriedly and inched our way
ever so slowly towards the bridge expecting at any moment that Jerry would come plunging out of the
clouds, guns blazing. The flak guns, in their sandbagged emplacements, lined the shore, alert and
expectant. About 1900 hours the head of the convoy swung onto the bridge, slowly the river rolled
under our wheels. How calm and placid it was. Engineers were nonchalantly tightening bolts on the
pontoon structure, inspecting joints and checking their work. On the river could be seen boats, boats
patrolling the waters looking for floating obstacles that might damage the bridge, for rumors had it that
the Heinie was desperate enough to send human torpedoes against the work. On reaching the east bank,
tension was relieved as everyone heaved sighs of relief. When darkness closed in on us the rate of
march was stepped up a little, but not quite fast enough, for a few of the vehicles were still on a bridge
when Jerry came back. Though he managed to scare those, he did not do any other damage. Flat low
country stretched before us, not a hill in sight. Suddenly the sky over the bridgehead was filled with
tracer fire. Those who could remember it was the Normandy beachhead all over again. On a smaller
scale, but just as vicious. One plane was shot down and burst with a tremendous flash. So the night
found us moving slowly, jerkily, into a position near Donheim. A night long to remember, a night of
roaring airplane engines, unseen sounds, tenseness and trigger quick tempers, burning towns, barns and
vehicles could be seen for miles in the flat country, and Patton's armor roared eastward through the night
exploiting with rapidity the easily won bridgehead.
The bright morning of March 25th helped to relieve the tension of the night before and again we
were on the move. As we moved along the road many ack-ack guns were seen in place, apparently used
as indirect fire against our onrushing tanks, as they all had the depressed tubes.
For the next two days steady progress was made towards the Main River, and Frankfurt, where
the largest German airdrome was located. In half a dozen positions, constantly, hammering away at the
enemy, the question whirling in everyone's mind was, “where is the Nazi going to make his last stand?”
There were reports about some stronghold in the Bavarian Alps, but then that was just a rumor. Finally
drew up into position where a good field of fire was available for the crossing of the Main. It was where
an old searchlight outfit had been, now nothing more than a shack remaining intact. Stayed there
overnight and until early the next morning when we moved down across the Main, luckily with little
difficulty, for we breezed across the river as if it were nothing more than a creek and went into the town
of Wittelbuchen, a town close to Frankfurt.
The next several days were strictly moving days with little or no firing done. It seemed as if
there just was no fight left in the Heinie for he was now surrendering by the scores. Polish and Russians
were beginning to crowd the roads continually, their broad peasant faces were wreathed in grins as we
rolled by. Lt. Keen took over the job as Battalion Communications Officer, as well as Headquarters
Battery Commander, on March 30.
March 31st we were in position at Sandhof. This month was a very active one for the 344th.
After leaving the rest area, way back by Winterspelt, the outfit traveled roughly 175 miles, crossed three
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