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Sacrifice: The 333rd Field Artillery at the Battle of the Bulge

Manning 155mm howitzers, African American gunners sacrificed themselves to defend fleeing infantry. Eleven of them were murdered by the Waffen SS, and then forgotten by the US Army.

Top Image: African American crew of an M1 155mm howitzer in action courtesy of the US Army.

An act of heroic self-sacrifice highlighted the dedicated service of the 333rd Field Artillery Battalion, a segregated African American unit that bolstered American forces in Western Europe during World War II. That sacrifice unfortunately ended in tragedy for 11 American soldiers, murdered in one of the many atrocities committed by German Waffen-SS troops, in this case with particular savagery because the victims were black. Compounding the tragedy, this atrocity was not officially recognized in the United States until many decades after the war had ended.

The 333rd was originally organized as a regiment in 1942, and trained at Camp Gruber, Oklahoma. In 1943, however, it was reorganized as the 333rd Field Artillery Group, consisting of the 333rd and 969th Field Artillery Battalions, both African American units with mostly white officers. Subsequently, two other field artillery battalions would be added to this group. The 333rd and 969th battalions were equipped with the M1 155mm howitzer, a versatile and effective truck-drawn weapon used by the US Army until the Vietnam War, and still in use in some parts of the world today.

A shipment of 155mm howitzers on their way to Europe. Courtesy Library of Congress.

Arriving in England in February 1944, the 333rd and 969th battalions shipped over to Normandy in July and provided vital artillery support to American forces through months of hard fighting, including at the siege of Brest, France.

By the time the Allies liberated Paris in August, the two battalions were known as some of the most efficient and hard-hitting artillery units in the US Army. In October 1944, the units were assigned to what was assumed to be a quiet front, in support of VIII Corps and the untested 106th Infantry Division in the Ardennes region along the Belgian-German border.

A 155mm howitzer preparing for action. Courtesy Library of Congress.

The 333rd Battalion was deployed around the small town of Schönberg in an atmosphere “tranquil to a point almost approaching garrison conditions,” as a later report would admit. Tired from months of constant service, the men took the opportunity to relax, with a recreation center that included a beer hall, bowling alley, and even a badminton court.

They were preparing a musical theater performance when the German offensive known as the Battle of the Bulge began on December 16.

The 106th Division was quickly thrown into disarray. At some outposts, black artillerymen took up rifles and fought alongside the infantry, in one case beating off a German attack and inflicting serious casualties. The German tide was overwhelming, however, driving through the defending infantry.

Recognizing the seriousness of the crisis, batteries of the 333rd and 969th battalions began pulling back under orders.

The 106th Division’s artillery commander desperately requested, however, that the battalions leave batteries behind to offer continuing support, assuring them that the main lines would be held and that they would be in no danger. He was wrong.

An M1 155mm artillery piece in action, 1945. Courtesy National Archives.

Master Sergeant Floyd Jones, an African American artilleryman serving with the 333rd Group, remembered: “We had just been sitting around awaiting orders when news came of the German breakthrough, so—get ready for action!”

Guns of the 333rd Battalion fired furiously in support of the American infantry, allowing some men to escape who might otherwise have been killed or captured. But the gunners’ heroism came at terrible cost as the Germans broke in among the howitzer positions.

The Germans captured Schönberg and, continuing to advance, shattered much of the 333rd Field Artillery Battalion, killing or capturing half of its men.

Eleven artillerymen escaped the German net and walked 10 miles away to the town of Wereth, where they were sheltered by a local civilian.

A neighbor who was sympathetic to the Germans betrayed them, however, and the Americans had the misfortune to fall into the hands of troops of the 1st SS Leibstandarte Adolf Hitler Panzer Division. Like the men of other Waffen SS divisions, these Germans were deeply indoctrinated in Nazi ideology and regarded their prisoners as racial inferiors.

American infantry near St. Vith, Belgium, 1945. Courtesy National Archives.

At 7:00 p.m. on the evening of December 17, the SS men drove their captors into the forest. There they savagely tortured their victims with rifle butts and bayonets before cutting off many of their fingers and running over them with vehicles—whether before or after the Americans were dead is impossible to say. Then they moved on, leaving the bodies behind.

The remnants of the 333rd Field Artillery Battalion fell back, joined with the still-intact 969th Field Artillery Battalion, and participated in the defense of Bastogne.

For its bravery during this action, the 969th received a Presidential Unit Citation—although the members of the 333rd who fought at Bastogne surely deserved to share in the honors.

The 11 men who died at Wereth, however, were ignored. The same US Army investigators who uncovered the atrocity at Malmedy also recovered the full details of what happened at Wereth, including the fact that—unlike the white victims at Malmedy—the black men who died there had been brutally tortured.

But the investigators made no effort to pursue the matter further, taking no testimonies even though many of the local civilians—including those who had sheltered the artillerymen—were still alive and could have provided evidence. In 1949 a subcommittee of the Senate’s Committee on Armed Services conducted a full review of Nazi atrocities during the Battle of the Bulge—and completely ignored the Wereth massacre.

Members of the family who had sheltered the “Wereth Eleven” marked the site of the massacre with a memorial in 1994, and it was expanded 10 years later.

Only in 2017, however, did Congress pass a resolution bestowing “official recognition” on the victims of the massacre: Curtis Adams of South Carolina, Mager Bradley of Mississippi, George Davis, Jr., of Alabama, Thomas Forte of Mississippi, Robert Green of Georgia, James Leatherwood of Mississippi, Nathaniel Moss of Texas, George Motten of Texas, William Pritchett of Alabama, James Stewart of West Virginia, and Due Turner of Arkansas.

Ed Lengel, PhD

Edward G. Lengel is the former Senior Director of Programs for the National WWII Museum’s Institute for the Study of War and Democracy.

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A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words by Will Dabbs

World War 2 catalyzed a global military mobilization the likes of which have not been seen before or since. Pictures are worth a thousand words

It is difficult to appreciate the scope of World War 2. We modern folk simply have no frame of reference. It was death, tragedy, and destruction on a scale beyond our imagining.

Sixteen million Americans served. More than 400,000 died. Roughly one in every forty American troops who answered the call never came home. One in forty. That’s what it cost to ensure that our world would be free from Nazi death camps, Japanese genocides, and Aryan supermen.

We moved to capture the powerful tales of World War 2 just in time to keep them from being lost.

Hidden Treasures In Words

Thanks to Steven Spielberg, Tom Hanks, and Stephen Ambrose, we captured many of those priceless stories before it was too late. Their inspiration drove folks across the country to pin Grandpa down and insist that he tell his stories from the war while he still could. I chased those tales myself at every opportunity. What I discovered was poignant beyond my capacity adequately to describe.

So many of those great old guys were reluctant to revisit that world. However, whenever I saw an old WW2 vet in the clinic I would gently ask. What I got in return for those innocent queries was simply amazing.

One old gentleman ran a local hardware store before he retired. If you saw him in church or walking down the street you wouldn’t give him a passing thought. He looked like everybody’s grandfather—bald and slightly stooped with a shuffling gait. However, back in 1944 this guy was an absolute beast.

The Lockheed P-38 Lightning was an objectively beautiful airplane. It was also a horrible place to die.

The Humanity of Total War

My buddy flew B-17 Flying Fortresses in Europe. He did his twenty-five missions and rotated home. He once mentioned that he had designs on an exceptionally attractive young lady in town before the war. He explained that another boy in his class fancied her, too. The girl chose the other suitor. My buddy then said matter-of-factly, “That other guy became a pilot as well. He flew P-38 Lightnings in the Pacific. He died fighting the Japanese.”

There was no emotion to the statement. It was simply a fact. This kid he went to high school with was blown to pieces in the skies over some forgotten South Pacific island, and he was just gone. That was the world in which he lived.

This B-17 Flying Fortress took a flak hit to the nose that killed the bombardier. It nonetheless still miraculously limped back to base.

I once asked this man to tell me about his most memorable mission. He said he was in a low formation over Italy when somebody screwed up. The upper bomb group dropped their ordnance, and one errant five hundred pounder struck his Fort just ahead of the cockpit. The bomb did not explode, but it tore the nose off of his airplane, taking his bombardier and nose gunner with it. These were two of his closest friends in the world, and they died horribly five feet in front of his face. He wrestled with the mangled airplane for two interminable hours before landing it safely back at base. He told me this story as though he was describing the weather. There was no bravado or pride. He was simply relating facts.

Connections of Words

I sat mesmerized with him and a dozen or more others, all of whom came to see me for medical care. In my mind’s eye I tried to visualize the scene—the sounds, the smells, and the fear. In each case I’m sure my efforts were woefully inadequate. Some emotions are so intense they just don’t translate well into words.

This vibrant young Russian officer died mere minutes after this picture was taken while fighting the Germans near Kiev.

World War 2 was the first of humanity’s countless scraps to be thoroughly documented. All involved knew what they were doing would be studied, dissected, and potentially venerated for generations to come. Cameras were bulky and awkward by modern standards, but they were still available.

Personal Connection

My wife’s grandfather fought in North Africa, Sicily, and Italy. He dropped out of school in ninth grade to feed his family during the Depression, but he was a mechanical savant. He took a nice German camera off of a captured Wehrmacht officer and found undeveloped film in his Battalion S2 Intelligence section. He improvised a darkroom using an Army raincoat and a red lens flashlight and carefully cut the film by hand to fit his liberated camera. He scored a few chemicals and processed his own negatives the same way. After he died we found a shoebox full of little pictures he had taken during the war. They were all intriguing, but he had never been willing to explain the details. Regardless, these images offer some fascinating insights into what his life was really like during those long years of combat in Europe.

Joe Ronsenthal’s amazing picture of the flag raising on Mount Suribachi during the invasion of Iwo Jima is one of the most compelling images ever captured on film. It is widely accepted as perfect.

There are literally countless images to have come from WW2. Some were arcane or tedious. Others, like the raising of the flag over Mount Suribachi on Iwo Jima, were quite literally iconic. Each one tells a story. This story that follows was particularly compelling.

The Plane

The Douglas A-20 Havoc was an advanced and capable twin-engine single-pilot attack aircraft developed early in WW2.

July 22, 1944, was a Friday. 1LT James Knarr and his gunner, SSG Charles Reichley, were up early to preflight their Douglas A-20G-25 Havoc medium bomber. Theirs was one of a dozen Havocs assigned to the 387th Bombardment Squadron of the 312th Bombardment Group. They were slated to attack a sprawling Japanese seaplane station and barge depot on the island of Kokas in the South Pacific. Their aircraft was loaded with 115 kg bombs optimized for attacking small ships in the harbor.

The A-20 didn’t seem to get as much press as other similar Allied planes. However, more than 7,000 copies were produced. Around half of these went to the Soviet Union.

The Douglas A-20 Havoc was not as well-known as were the B-17 Flying Fortresses or B-24 Liberators. It even took a back seat to twin-engine medium bombers like the B-25 Mitchell and B-26 Marauder. However, the A-20 was a potent and effective ground attack platform.

First flown in January of 1939, the A-20 was designed from the outset as an attack plane. It was powered by a pair of 14-cylinder Pratt and Whitney R-2600-7 Twin Cyclone radial engines, each producing 1,700 horsepower. By war’s end some 7,478 airframes had rolled off the lines.

Low-level strafing and bombing attacks were the A-20’s specialty.

Technical Details

By 1944, the G-model A-20 was being used in the Pacific for low-level attacks against Japanese shipping. Under these conditions the bombardier and his vaunted Norden bomb sight were superfluous. As a result, these Havocs had their noses fared over and the bombardier position replaced with half a dozen Browning .50-caliber machineguns. The typical attack profile involved approaching a target at wavetop level and then skipping bombs into the sides of Japanese ships all the while sleeting the decks with massed machinegun fire. The Havoc was remarkably effective in this role.

The trim and narrow cockpit of the A-20 Havoc was laid out like that of a fighter plane. Unlike other American twin-engine bombers, the A-20 was designed to be flown single-pilot.

Without the bombardier, the typical crew of the Havoc was just the single pilot and a top turret gunner. With the assistance of their crew chief, 1LT Knarr and SSG Reichley made their mount ready for the day’s mission. Everything about the plane was armed, fueled, and in order.

The Mission

This remarkable series of photos was shot during a low-level bombing mission over the island of Kokas in Western New Guinea in 1944.

The approach to the target was unremarkable. The weather was perfect, and visibility was unrestricted. The limitless blue of the South Seas skies formed a placid backdrop to the unfettered carnage that was soon to come.

CPT Jack Klein was flight lead. 2LT Melvin Kapson was piloting the second ship. 1LT Knarr’s Havoc, tail number 43-9432, was third. The Havocs delivered their bombs just as they had been trained to do, raining death and destruction down on the Japanese barges and crews held at anchor in the harbor. However, by the time the attack planes turned on their egress the Japanese defenders had found their wits. Before they had a chance to close their bomb bay doors, the Japanese antiaircraft guns were clawing up toward them.

These low-level, counter-shipping missions were incredibly dangerous.

The formation was tight by design. Flying close meant concentrating firepower and shock effect. This also got the attacking aircraft in and out quickly, minimizing their exposure to ground fire. However, it still wasn’t fast enough.

Tragedy

One burst of antiaircraft fire connected with 1LT Knarr’s starboard engine. Both big radials were firewalled during the attack. 1LT Knarr was coaxing every bit of power out of the plants and every scrap of speed out of the plane. Suddenly the number 2 engine sputtered and died streaming oil. The big 11-foot, 3-inch propeller briefly windmilled.

In such close quarters and at such low altitude, there was just no time. 1LT Knarr was unable to get the prop feathered before the big plane began to roll. The ten-ton medium bomber snapped to the right, its wingtip contacting the smooth azure waters of the bay. In a literal instant, what had previously been a state-of-the-art attack plane manned by a pair of American aircrewmen was transformed into 20,000 pounds of debris. And just like that, 1LT Knarr and SSG Reichley were dead, literally pulverized in the impact.

Pictures Are Worth A Thousand Words

CPT Klein had been taking photos of the mission. His camera was remarkably advanced for the time and was capable of sequential frames. As luck would have it, his images captured the final seconds of 1LT Knarr’s airplane. The sequence became one of the most compelling of the war.

Advances in technology during WW2 allowed more of the action and drama to be recorded than was the case during previous conflicts.

52,173 Americans died in aerial combat in WW2. Many fighter pilots like my friend’s high school classmate perished alone in the rarefied upper atmosphere. Others died as part of a crew with their friends by their sides to the last. The vast majority perished in anonymity, their sacrifice memorialized by nothing more than a heartfelt letter to loved ones from heartbroken friends or overwrought commanders. However, 1LT Knarr and SSG Reichley had their final moments immortalized. Even some eight decades later, those haunting images move me to my core.

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