Divisional History
A History of the 90th Division in World War II
6 June 1944
To
9 May 1945
Chapter 2
The Beaches and the Hedgerows
“Blossomtime in Normandy” came to the staccato accompaniment of whistling artillery rounds, whining rifle bullets, the sharp crack of mortars on the beaches, and the angry stuttering voices of a thousand emplaced guns. Overhead, fighters and bombers roared to their targets, while offshore, warships of the Navy pounded enemy defense with devastating fire.
At ten in the morning, D-Day, the LCIs containing the 1st and 3rd Battalions, 359th Regiment, and the 916th Field Artillery Battalion (Group A), began to release their troops to smaller boats for the 90th’s initial landings on enemy-held soil. The Engineers had cleared a ten-foot passage through the water, too narrow a passage for the LCIs. Mines, wire, I-beams and constant shelling were the hazards to be hurdled, but the landing boats threaded safely through.
As the boats approached the shore the troops leaped into the hip-deep water with weapons held high overhead, raced across the artillery-churned sands of Utah Beach, past the burning vehicles caught in previous barrages, and found momentary protection at a seawall 400 yards distant. The beach was constantly shelled, and inevitable casualties were suffered. Pfc David F. Atcuson was the first to fall, the first among many in the 90th to give his life.
At four in the afternoon the disembarking of Group A was completed. Still attached to the 4th Infantry Division, the two battalions moved immediately to an assembly area near St. Martin de Verreville, approximately two kilometers west of the beach. That same evening, Pfc Samuel C. Maples, outposting the assembly area, detected elements of an enemy patrol and fired his BAR. Two Germans were killed, one wounded, and one taken prisoner. And so the 90th Division for the first time drew blood.
Meanwhile, on D-Day, the remainder of the 90th Division set sail for France, utilizing four transports for the movement: the Susan B. Anthony, the Excelsior, the Explorer, and the Beinville. The following morning, the Susan B. Anthony, standing off Utah Beach, struck a mine and sank within two hours. The sinking ship, transporting the Division’s advance detachment and the 359th Regiment (minus Group A) was quickly abandoned without loss of life, and its troops assembled in the vicinity of Reubille, about five kilometers inland. Only individual equipment was salvaged, from the doomed vessel, and for days thereafter the 2nd Battalion of the 359th found it necessary to resort to improvisation to supplement its inadequate arms.
On June 8th the remainder of the 90th Division arrived at Utah Beach and began debarkation at noon. By midnight all foot elements had assembled in their allocated positions in a “goose-egg” bounded by Tourqueville, Reuville, Audouville-la-Hubert, and Ecoquenauville, with the Division command post in the village of Loutres. Warning orders received that evening. “The 90th will attack . . .”
This was what the long months of training were for, the marching and crawling and the endless, repetitious harping on details. Schooldays had ended, and now began the final examinations. No more after-problem critiques, except where mistakes were written in blood, and errors in judgment were entered on the casualty lists.
As part of the First Army, VII Corps, the Division laid its plans. Orders called for the 90th to cross the Merderet river and proceed westward, seizing high ground east of the Douve river, thirteen kilometers distant, in an effort to deepen the Corps beachhead. Reconnaissance parties from the Infantry and Engineers reconnoitered possible crossing sites. All necessary equipment and supplies were put ashore. Troops were shifted to their jump-off positions, and all was in readiness for the arrival of H-Hour.
At four O’clock in the morning of June 10th the 90th Division moved forward, a movement that was to honor no obstacle, acknowledge no hindrance until it reached the hills of Bohemia eleven months away.
Thrusting forward quickly, the 357th and the 358th Regiments forced their crossings of the Merderet with the towns of Amfreville and Pont L’Abbe the immediate objectives. But the enemy was prepared. For four years they had anticipated landings in France, and for four years they had perfected their defenses, building a wall of steel to repel the might of the invaders. This, then was the test . . . an irresistible force versus an immovable object.
The hedgerows of Normandy were designed by the French to conserve the soil and to prevent erosion. But the Germans utilized them for other purposes. The hedgerows of France made ideal lines of defense. You could place a strong force of Wehrmacht defenders behind one row and cover the approaches with murderous fire from small arms. At each end of the row properly emplaced machine guns could sweep the field before them with deadly crossfire.
And suppose, somehow, the American succeeded in neutralizing the defenses of row number 1. In that case row number 2 would go into action with mortars zeroed in on the fields, mortars that burst without warning, spreading fragments and death like a scythe. And to round it off neatly, row number 3 was well defended with 88’s and other artillery of assorted calibers with all possible targets within range duly noted and accurately plotted.
It was an ingenious plan of defense, simple and effective. If the attacking troops succeeded in taking one row of hedges, there were miles of additional rows upon which the Germans could fall back on. Advances, if they were made at all, would be costly; so costly, in fact, that the American would lose heart and eventually retire to the shores of England smarting under the bloodiest defeat in military history.
The German plan was good one. The men of the 90th Division, pushing forward inch by inch and yard by yard, clinging desperately to whatever gains they could win, lashing at their enemy with guns and knives and stones and fists and sheer unadulterated guts, can testify to that. The German plan was a good one, but it had one flaw. It didn’t work.
The Americans had no intention of returning to England. Their course led straight through the hedgerows, out across the plains of France, across the Rhineland and to a meeting with the Russians in Hitler’s own backyard. To describe he individual feats of heroism performed by members of the 90th Division during the campaign would serve no useful purpose, for many would be unintentionally slighted, and these pages would be swollen to mammoth dimensions if justice were to be done.
The hedgerows slowed the 90th’s attack, but each day saw new gains scored. Slowly but surely, from row to row, the veteran units of the mighty Wehrmacht fell back before inexperienced troops with the T-O patch on their sleeves. Pont L’Abbe fell on the third day, and three days later Amfreville and Gourbesville, slightly to the north were securely in the 90th’s hands. Weary, mud begrimed and bloody, the Division was able to report . . . “Mission accomplished.” In the meantime, on June 12, Major General Eugene M. Landrum assumed command of the 90th.
Immediately, a new mission was assigned the Division. Elements of the VII Corps were working northward in an attempt to take the port of Cherbourg, vitally necessary for the landing of the huge quantities of supplies and reinforcements required to maintain a fighting army. The 90th was to advance to the northwest, seize and hold a line running east-west approximately seven kilometers south of the hub city of Valognes, located in the central portion of the Cotentin peninsula, an there to prevent enemy movements northward or southward.
Faced with heartbreaking marshy terrain and endless rows of hedges, the troops pushed toward their objective against fierce enemy resistance. They waded through swamps and stormed the hedgerows, walking, running, sliding through the mud of France. And always under enemy observation.
At no time since the landings on Utah Beach had the invaders been free of the watchful eye of the enemy, an enemy observed their movements and positions and delivered deadly accurate artillery fire from his vantage points. Eighteen kilometers to the south was Hill 122, Mont Castre. From this observation post the Germans were able to observe almost at will with practically unlimited visibility. Until it was taken every move made by the American divisions was subject to the closest enemy scrutiny. Until it was taken tactics must necessarily consist of the strong-arm variety . . . outfire, outfight, outnerve and outlast the Germans, who were sitting pretty on Hill 122.
But the hill would come later. For the present it sufficed that enemy observation and enemy fire were costing the lives of thousands of American troops. Nevertheless, the 90th moved forward. Artillery pulverized the contested areas; the infantry moved forward a few more yards; the Engineers cleared the roads of mines and booby-traps. Again the artillery , again the infantry, again the engineers, again and again, and slowly the gains were made, slowly and with tragic losses.
Two days after the jump-off the objective was reached. The VII Corps had its necessary protection. The 90th Division halted briefly, counted heads, drew a deep by hasty breath, and licked its wounds. The following day, June 18th, the Division was placed under VIII Corps control.
The 357th Regiment was now assigned a defensive mission in the western portion of the Cotentin peninsula and repelled constant and successive attempts by enemy armored and infantry elements to break out of the narrow neck into which they were sealed.
The succeeding days were used to improve positions, to train replacements, and to receive instruction in enemy mines, tank-infantry tactics and rehabilitation. Aggressive patrolling was conducted at all times within the defensive sector, and the enemy was cleared from the area south to the Douve river. German patrols were also active during this period.
And so the month of June came to an end. The Cotentin peninsula had been secured, Cherbourg had fallen, and the only minor mopping up operations were in progress. The peninsula had fallen but across its base Field Marshal Rommel had drawn a line of fire and steel and planned to contain the Allies within their small area until he could draw upon reserves. When those reserves became available, then a counter-offensive would be launched to drive the Americans back to and hurl them into the sea. In the meantime, the line across the base of the peninsula had to be held at all costs.
That was the plan of the enemy. But the American plans were radically different. Theirs called for the liberation of the soil of France.
And so, with the arrival of July, new orders also arrived. They read with a familiar ring . . . “The 90th Division will attack . . .”