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Although the cannoneers had to stay outside, there was no reason why white
collar workers like the FDC should. They were much more efficient when their fingers
weren't numb from cold and their vision was not obscured by fog from their own breath.
And - let's face it - no one really enjoys being uncomfortable.
Including our battalion commander, Lt Col Peach. He mentioned it at dinner one
day as we sat at the folding table where the officers ate. We had the luxury of a canvas fly
overhead, but the wind whipped heavy drops of rain into our plates and faces. "You
know," he said, "I'm getting too old for field duty in weather like this. I saw the other day
that combat soldiers over forty could apply to be returned to the States, and I'm forty-one.
I may just do that. "
"You're kidding," I said.
"Don't be too sure. I'm thinking about it. "
After the Metz operation was complete, we slogged our way through the slush
toward our next destination on the Saar River. Habitable buildings were scarce, so when
on one move Lt Col Peach found us a farmhouse for a CP, everyone was pleased. Almost
everyone. The wire crews were less happy, because, unlike most CPs, this one was quite
a distance from the firing batteries. Even more unusual was the fact that it was more than
a mile farther forward than the firing batteries, so that they fired over our heads.
However, a house was a house, and this one was comfortable, as well as the only one
reasonably available.
We were there for two nights. Our own 359th Infantry was in reserve, out of
contact with the enemy, so we were reinforcing the fires of another artillery battalion, the
343rd (Urban). Their infantry was making slow progress, and our own might be
committed at any time, so we had to be ready to move in any direction to support them,
as soon as we knew where they were going.
About 9:30 the morning of the second day we were surprised but not pleased at
the sight of Col Theimer, the Div Arty executive (or executioner) entering our CP. Eric
Peach rose out of his folding canvas chair to greet him.
"Well, Peach, have you finished your reconnaissance?"
"You mean for a move, sir? Well, no. I've been waiting to find out more about the
situation. "
"Waiting? You mean you're expecting to find out sitting here on your duff? Come
with me, and I'll show you the situation!"
At the time I was relieved when they went off together. Looking back, I know I
should have recognized disaster looming.
When Peach came back, about 10:30, he sent out word for the battery
commanders to report at 12:30 to go on reconnaissance for a new position. He set the
time so they could eat first: he didn't approve of working on an empty stomach. Besides, I
think he hoped to hear more about a possible change in our mission, which might alter
our plans.
But before the calls could be completed, Theimer returned. He spoke sharply and
angrily about the need for haste. A red-face Lt Col Peach changed the time from 12:30 to
at once, and we actually got going a little after eleven o'clock, missing our dinner after
all. I went along and helped in an unsuccessful search for a house or even a barn for our
command post.
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