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Chapter 14
The Domain of the Erl King
The 90th Division took several deep breaths and licked its wounds. We were still
in the front lines, but it was unlikely that the Germans would cross the frigid river to
attack us, so there was time to rotate some of the combat-battered troops back to a rest
camp in the rear for R & R [rest and recuperation]. There they got to take a hot shower,
change into clean clothes, watch a couple of movies, and write some letters home before
their three days were up and they returned to duty. This mini-vacation reduced the
number of combat fatigue cases substantially.
Meanwhile the rest of us received and trained, or at least oriented, replacements
for men lost as casualties or otherwise. We cleaned the worst of the mud off trucks and
howitzers and caught up on other maintenance jobs.
Our liaison and forward observer personnel returned to us, full of frustration
ranging from rage to numb despair over the problems they had faced: the infantry
stalemated in the Siegfried Line, the unaccustomed artillery battalion they couldn't work
smoothly with.
I mentioned Bill Beck's grief at the loss of Col Pond; fortunately, however, Beck
was a resilient man who physically enjoyed combat, so he was recovering rapidly.
Capt Richter, LnO 3, was a different problem. Never the ebullient soldier, he
considered war inglorious and inconvenient, a nuisance to be gotten over with as soon as
possible and endured in the mean time. But he had endured it, by his complete contempt
for danger. He was the one who never took cover during enemy artillery fire ("incoming
mail"), who walked upright when machine gun bullets cut up the trees around him. He
refused to give war the satisfaction of making him afraid.
Now, however, he began to show symptoms, if not of fear, at least of
apprehension. He was subdued, quiet. He huddled by the stove in the CP and wrote long
letters to his wife. Back during the Moselle crossing he and "Foxhole" Smith had a
narrow escape from death, and since then he had lost a number of friends in the infantry.
I think it had finally begun to seep through his thick German-Texan skull that people -
including himself - were not invulnerable. And it may have been physical, too. He was
older than most of us, about thirty-five, and he had taken a lot of punishment.
During this time Bob Hughes started negotiations to get Richter transferred to an
Ordnance unit. [Ordnance was the branch of the service that issued and repaired weapons
and vehicles.] Rick was a mechanical near-genius, so he was well qualified for the work.
I expect he would have enjoyed it more, and I'm positive that it was safer.
Hughes was a sensitive man; I wouldn't have recognized the problem or thought
of the answer. And he didn't broadcast his efforts, probably waiting until he could
announce it as a fait accompli.
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