Divisional History
A History of the 90th Division in World War II
6 June 1944
To
9 May 1945
Chapter 3
The Hill, The Island and The Plains
Hill 122, only a few kilometers south of the American lines, remained the commanding terrain feature of the entire peninsula, and the enemy used it to good advantage. If the hill should fall, the Germans would be deprived of their eyes; it was vital that the hill should fall.
On the eastern side of the Cotentin peninsula was the city of Carentan; on the western side, the city of La Hay Du Putis, each located near the coast. In the center of the peninsula a large swampy area called Prairies Marecageuses de Gorges virtually denied all military traffic through it and divided the peninsula into two sectors. Locked tightly to the western portion of the Prairries, at the village of Beau Coudray, was the formidable Mahlman line. It was along this line that the enemy intended to make his stand, from Beau Coudray was to Hill 122, on whose southern slopes was Foret de Mont Castre, and then westward once to the sea. This was the gate to victory.
The cream of the German armies manned the gate, while guns bristled from every hedge, from each ravine, from every tree and bush. The defending forces had sworn an oath of fealty to their fuehrer and determined to stand to the death. Beyond this line no man would pass. To the 90th Division was assigned the task of smashing the Mahlman Line at the Foret itself, the center and core of resistance.
The first two days of July were devoted to the perfection of plans. Regiments and battalions moved into their positions near the line of departure. Division Artillery prepared its firing charts and data. The 359th was to attack on the right, the 358th on the left, the 357th in the Division reserve and later to pass through the 358th to seize the high ground to the south. That was the initial plan, one that was destined to be altered a hundred times before the objective was reached. The line of departure ran southeast from the village of Pretot down to Baupte on the northern edge of the Prairies. On July 3rd the attack began.
Enemy reaction was immediate and violent. The 1st Battalion of the 359th encountered fanatical opposition in the orchards near Pretot. Close-quarter fighting ensued and ended only with the utter annihilation of a complete enemy battalion. But the engagement drained the strength from the 1st Battalion, and after a short advance it halted.
The 2nd Battalion pushed on to capture Ste. Suzanne, always under enemy observation and enemy observation and subject to constant, murderous artillery fire. At nightfall the Battalion’s ranks were thinned and weakened but its line held firm.
In the zone of the 358th, the 1st Battalion had succeeded in reaching crossroad north of St. Jore. In its attempt to take the village itself it encountered a fierce infantry-tank attack which forced it back to the crossroad. All day long the battle raged, with St. Jore the contested price. When evening came, the Battalion had made St. Jore American.
On the left, the 2nd Battalion made good progress at first, but a strong Boche counterattack, led by tanks, blunted the momentum of the advance and forced a gap between the 1st and 2nd Battalions. In the face of never-ceasing fire, however, the gains were successfully consolidated.
The 3rd Battalion was thrown into the battle at noon in order to drive the enemy from the village of Les Sablons, where their counter-attack had carried them, and also to close the breach between the 1st and 2nd Battalions. By nightfall, after repelling another determined counterattack, its mission had been completed.
During the first day, against the bitterest of resistance, the 90th Division had chalked an average gain of 1,200 yards along its front. If there had been any doubt before as to the enemy’s disposition and strength within the Division zone, there was none that night. The cards were on the table. It was going to be a fight to the finish, no holds barred, everything goes.
That night the Division was constantly harassed by enemy fire. From Hill 122 out positions had been observed and checked and plotted. Mortars and artillery swept the new front lines and rear areas, making the problem of supply a perilous business.
There were fireworks aplenty on the Fourth of July, but the 90th eked out small gains in spite of almost insuperable obstacles and direct observation from the hill. Counterattack succeeded counterattack, and always the incessant barrages took a heavy toll. Nevertheless, by nightfall the villages of Les Belle Croix and La Butte had been taken, and lines had moved forward again.
The third day of battle was a repetition of the preceding two. The fighting continued to be savage, no quarter given or asked. The 357th was committed to action with the mission of attacking south through Beau Coudray. Furious resistance, typical of that met along the entire front, was encountered immediately, and the attack halted 500 yards short of its goal.
But on the third day one battalion had shattered Mont Castre’s perimeter defenses and succeeded in reaching the high ground on the north side of the Foret itself. This was the toe-hold. In the days and nights to follow the enemy would attempt frantically to break that hold, resorting to every means including suicidal “Banzai” charges. But the noose was knotted on the Foret. It would not, it must not slip. By the day’s end 2,000 yards had been conquered.
July 6th, and action flared to new heights of violence. Elements of the 1st Battalion, 357th, forced an entry into Beau Coudray, later to be reinforced by the 3rd Battalion. But this was the hinge of the German line, and the Boche entertained no thought of allowing it to fall. Into the breach came the 15th German Parachute Regiment attacking their outnumbered opponents (three companies) with hitherto unequaled ferocity. One company was forced back out of the town. Two remained to face the onslaught and found themselves cut off.
The two companies of the 3rd Battalion fought stubbornly against he mounting, hopeless odds. Those few who escaped the trap and made their way to friendly lines told harrowing tales of the “Lost Battalion’s” heroic stand. Every effort was made to relieve the isolated defenders of Beau Coudray, but every effort was hurled back with heavy losses. In one such attempt, every office and non-commissioned officer in the attacking force was killed or wounded. On the evening of the 7th the last word came from Beau Coudray. The gallant defenders, weakened and ravaged by the most intense fire, exposed to continuous armored blows, hemmed in on every side, had been over-run. The Mahlman Line, through threatened, remained intact.
Elsewhere along the front, the 79th Infantry and 82nd Airborne Divisions were meeting equally stiff resistance on the 90th’s right. The 83rd Infantry Division, on the 90th’s left, had gained only a few hedgerows.
On the fifth day the 315th Engineer Battalion as thrown into the battle, taking front line positions side by side with infantry. Casualties had been heavy, and every available unit was put into action to stem the counterattacks and to add just another straw which might conceivably break the enemy’s back. Observation from Artillery Liaison planes disclosed that the enemy was about to launch new and powerful counterattacks from the south. Immediately Division and Corps artillery went into action. Five times the enemy attack in strength and five times the artillery sent them reeling back. As the day ended, the German line had been bent, but not by any means broken.
July 8th was characterized by counterattacks and counter-counterattacks. The 8th Infantry Division, which had been until recently in Corps reserve, now pushed slowly southward relieving the enemy pressure from the west. Lines were adjusted, the artillery of both sides played pounding serenades. The ring on Mont Castre was tightening. But still there was no rest. Enemy morale and fighting spirit remained unscathed.
The following day, the seventh of battle, found the 90th Division busy repulsing enemy probing attacks. The Germans were searching vainly for the Achilles’ Heel in the 90th’s defenses, attempting to drive wedges between units, attempting desperately to disrupt and disorganize the line. New units formed of cooks, drivers, mechanics and clerks took their places in the line and fought with concentrated fury. The doughs of the 90th held.
So passed another day. On July 10th the battle was resumed. Exhausted for beyond the limit of endurance, weakened by the tremendous losses in men and machines, the troops had absorbed more punishment and physical and mental discomfort than the mind and body were meant to withstand. In the past eight days unprecedented acts of heroism had become ordinary, and impossible accomplishments had become commonplace. But by the eight day every man had expended his last ounce of strength. They could go no further. On the eight day, the 90th once more attacked.
The plan called for a coordinated assault by the 358th and 359th Regiments, the latter’s action pending the arrival of elements of the 8th Division. At two in the afternoon the 8th had no yet arrived. The 358th, therefore was ordered to initiate the attack, with the 359th to launch its assault as soon as possible.
With the 1st Battalion of the Regiment left, the attached 2nd Battalion of the 358th in the center, and the 3rd Battalion on the right, the 358th Regiment was to swing into the Foret de Mont Castre, the southern and heavily wooded slopes of the Hill, and push on to the village of Lastelle, south of the Foret.
The 3rd Battalion pushed into the dense undergrowth of he now famed Foret de Mont Castre. For the Germans it was hold or perish. If ever before they had fought with single-minded ferocity, they far exceeded it now.
The dark-shadowed woods of Mont Castre, that day, felt the shock and impact of men who wouldn’t be stopped against a line that wouldn’t be broken. At first it was rather simple, resistance was meager and scattered. The greatest difficulties were the rocks and the denseness of the forest which denied visibility and made orientation a problem of first importance. The first phase line was reached, and control reestablished.
The battalion began once more to move, and hell broke loose. Close range machine-gun fire from carefully concealed positions spread havoc in the 90th’s ranks. Grenades came from everywhere, rifle fire spewed from the tangled undergrowth. It was perfect defense in the very heart of the Mahlman line. The Americans charged. With hand grenades and bayonets they stormed the line. Jerry, secure and safe behind his thick stone crags, discovered that stone and fire and even courage were not enough to halt the 90th’s charge. With machine guns blazing from their hips, in spite of wounds and certain death, the charged.
They dropped and rose and fought again, then dropped again . . . and still they fought. Ripping, blasting, tearing through the woods, at last they saw before them clear, open country beyond. Vicious high velocity fire soon made their position untenable, and at nightfall the assaulting elements moved slightly back to prepare the night’s defense.
All night the Battalion aid men, working hard, carried rations and water to the men on the line, carried the wounded to the rear. Decimated beyond recognition (52% casualties), the Battalion reformed that night as a single group.
On the following day the Division attacked once more. Weakened as it was, there was no stopping it now. Like a tightly wound clock that wouldn’t stop no matter how the parts were beaten and bent, the 90th struck and continued to strike until the cream of the enemy’s armies, the might and invincible parachutists who had scourged the nations of Europe, hesitated, cracked, broke and ran.
At the same time the 357th, striking in strength, overwhelmed the defenders of Beau Coudray and advanced virtually unopposed to the south. All along the Division front the enemy withdrew. The Mahlman line was broken.
Four days later the 90th reached its assigned objectives. For thirteen days, without relief, they had battered themselves against a determined foe. And now they dropped wearily to the earth, and slept.
With the VIII Corps on the right and VII Corps on the left, a new offensive was planned, an offensive designed to punch out of the narrow neck of the Normandy peninsula and into the plains of France. The 90th’s mission in the scheme of things was to drive south along the Perier-St. Saveur Lendelin road.
During the brief lull preceding the battle the 90th surveyed its positions and studied the terrain to be taken. Directly in its path and immediately in front was an obstacle, formidable and heavily defended. If the division was to make progress in the coming offensive that obstacle must first be surmounted. The decision was made and plans were perfected to eliminate the enemy stronghold . . . the Island.
The Island was so called because of the surrounding terrain features. Bounded on the north by the river Seves and on all other sides by treacherous swamps and bogs, it was shaped like a deflated football approximately three kilometers in length and one kilometer in width. The only path of approach was across the Seves, and the only path to the Seves was open terrain too well observed by the strongly entrenched enemy.
The 1st and 2nd Battalions of the 358th made the assault behind a well-conceived artillery preparation. The attack was foredoomed to failure, however, for with the exception of the Island comparative quiet reigned all along the Normandy front. This allowed all enemy artillery within range to concentrate its fire on one focal point . . . the assaulting troops of the 90th. The “incoming mail” was accurate and demoralizing. Never before had the Division been subjected to such sustained massed fire. Machine gun fire and mortars from the southern banks of the Seves added their weight and succeeded in delaying the attack.
That delay enabled the enemy to estimate correctly the situation and to draw more troops to the point of attack. A sheet of impenetrable fire was placed across the Seves. Yet elements of one company braved the fire and landed on the southern banks. Lacking reinforcements, however, they soon withdrew.
In the afternoon the 1st Battalion forced a crossing of the Seves, overcame immediate resistance, and drove deep into the Island. But a man with a rifle is no match for a tank. The 90th’s armor waited impatiently for a bridge across the Seves, but the German artillery and mortars successfully denied the Engineers the opportunity to throw a bridge across the river. In the evening the fire had becomes so intense that only one company of the 2nd Battalion was able to effect a crossing to support he troops now isolated on the Island.
That night a violent counterattack consisting of armor and crack parachute troops was repulsed on the Island. Everything had gone wrong, and to make matters even worse, a dense fog had descended on the area denying the use of liaison planes for vitally needed observation.
The following morning came more misfortune. The Seves overflowed its banks. That, together with the intense enemy fire, continued to deny the 90th’s armor a bridge across the river. A new enemy counterattack on the Island itself succeeded in disorganizing the marooned elements on the far banks. Only limited quantities of ammunition and supplies could be furnished the assaulting troops across the flooded river.
In the face of such decided obstacles, both man-made and natural, an immediate withdrawal was definitely indicated. Many escaped the trap by swimming the Seves. Others failed to reach the river and were captured by the enemy. The battle for the Island was ended.
Nowhere, except in this one instance, has the 90th Division in its combat history, failed to take its assigned objective. But nowhere in its history has any military organization exhibited greater devotion to duty that did those who, despite insuperable odds, drove forward into the ill-fated campaign of Seves.
Ever since D-Day, the 90th together with all other Divisions in the invading forces, had suffered from lack of “elbow room.” Fenced into a narrow corridor bounded by the sea, broad maneuvers and wide end runs were impossible. Up to the latter days of July the possibility remained ever imminent that the enemy might draw sufficient reserves to launch an overwhelming counter-offensive aimed at driving the Allied into the sea . . . with the added possibility that such an offensive might conceivably succeed.
On July 26th the front flamed into action. The VII Corps, in the east, leveled the city of St. Lo in a tremendous artillery and aerial bombardment. Behind that bombardment came the American troops, sweeping through the breach in the enemy lines.
On the same day the VIII Corps, with the 79th, 8th, 90th and 83rd Infantry Division sin order from right to left, struck southward toward Countances. Since the Enemy on the Island was alerted it would have been madness to attempt a break-through at that point. Therefore, the 90th sidestepped that focal point of resistance.
The first day the entire VIII Corps met resistance of the stiffest nature. Whatever gains were made were costly and negligible. The action by the VII Corps at St. Lo, however, was the main effort. A breakthrough seemed imminent. If the Germans continued resistance in the path of the 90th, and should the VII Corps swing to the west, a gigantic trap would have been sprung. Would the enemy withdraw from the closing trap?
That question was answered the following day. Coiled and ready, the 90th struck. By nightfall Periers was in the hands of the Division. The Island was no longer German. The 4th and 6th Armored Divisions threw their lumbering tanks into high gear and spearheaded the drive to Coutances and Avrances, even further to the south.
The German line was shattered, the breakthrough had come. The Germans who had invented the military art of “blitzkrieg” were now to see it as it should be done. The 90th waited for further orders just south of Periers, poised expectantly.