Divisional History
A History of the 90th Division in World War II
6 June 1944
To
9 May 1945
Chapter 7
Hell and High Water
The 5th Infantry Division on the Corps right, south of Metz, was to break out of its small bridgehead across the Moselle and attack in a northeasterly direction. The 95th Infantry Division was to relieve the 90th in the vicinity of Gravelotte, contain the enemy salient west of the Moselle, and then attack and capture the city of Metz when the pinchers had closed.
On the Corps left the 90th was to effect a crossing of the Moselle north of Thionville and attack southeast through the Maginot Line, forming the upper claw of the pincers which was to meet the 5th Division somewhere east of Metz. The 10th Armored Division, crossing behind the 90th was to send its columns parallel to the 90th and to extend as far east as the Saar river.
H-hour was scheduled for sometime between November 6th and November 9th. And so the plans were made for the offensive which was to rip the province of Lorraine from the grasp of Germany and to expose the Siegfried Line to immediate assault.
Crossing sites were selected, one at Malling, and another upstream at Cattenom. All preliminary moves had to be made under the cloak of darkest secrecy. The Foret de Cattenom, west of the selected bridge sites, provided the required defilade and concealment for the necessary preparations. All troops and supplies were moved into the Foret during hours of darkness, and enemy patrols were sealed tightly from the area.
But now a new enemy struck at the 90th Division, an enemy dangerous and resourceful and treacherous . . . the weather. Rain, cold and penetrating, soaked the troops to the bone, transformed foxholes into deeps pools of icy water, altered dirt roads into quagmires impossible to negotiate. Day after day the rain poured down. Trucks, bringing vital supplies into the assembly area by night, were sunk to the axles in a clutching sea of mud. Miserable and saturated, the troops awaited H-hour.
The initial crossings were to be made in assault boats, and after the bridgehead had been established the Engineers were to build their bridges in order to allow armor and vehicles to cross to support the infantry. The Engineers watched the rain and studied the river carefully. Normally, the bridging of a river 350 feet in width would have offered no insuperable problems. They watched the current flowing northward, and they grew concerned as they noted how the waters began to race between the Moselle’s banks. The river, never mild at its best, sounded in an angry roar, foamed and swirled and eddied and flung itself against its shores. And still the rain poured down, feeding the wild Moselle.
H-hour was 0330 on November 9th. The 359th Regiment on the left crossed at the town of Malling. The 358th Regiment on the right crossed at the town of Cattenom. The Engineers manning the assault boats performed Herculean labors guiding the craft to the proper point, discharging their cargo of men and guns and returning to the starting point to begin the adventure anew. The raging Moselle contested every inch. It surged above its banks in uncontrollable fury and tossed the laden boats in its crazy currents like a juggler tossing eggs.
The other enemy, the opposing troops, were momentarily stunned by the sheer insolence of the attack. Lulled into a sense of security by the weeks of relative inactivity and by the added assurance that the flooded Moselle would surely deny a crossing to the Americans, the German outposts were quickly overrun and the immediate objectives wrested from their control. But the surprise was only momentary. Enemy reaction, when it came, was violent and deadly. German artillery and mortars, aided by excellent observation posts across the river, proceeded to shell the crossing sties with costly accuracy. Fort Koenigsmacker in particular enjoyed a panorama view of American activities . . . Fort Koenigsmacker perched smugly on a hill whose interior was honey-combed with tunnels immune to artillery and bombs.
And still the rain continued, and the Moselle rose with a vengeance. Bursting from its narrow confines it stretched out 400, 600, 800 yards, eight times its normal span. Against hopeless odds the Engineers fought back in an attempt to bridge the river. Working knee deep, waist deep, chest deep in the ever-rising waters, they secured the pontoons to the banks of the river and extended the construction toward the opposite shores. And each time the Moselle defiantly ripped the bridge from its moorings.
Each hour the gravity of the situation increased immeasurably. The infantry across the river faced armor with only small arms and courage. Desperately needed support was denied them. Only limited supplies such as could be ferried across the river in small motor launches reached the frozen, thoroughly soaked infantrymen, who nevertheless slugged their way through mud and swamps, overcoming obstacles with such valor and perseverance that even the enemy testified grudging admiration.
On that first day the infantry stormed and captured Petite Hettange, Metrich, Kerling, Basse Ham and had gained a precarious and exposed grip on the top of Fort Koenigsmacker itself. The town of Koenigsmacker (not to be confused with the Fort) fell to the driving 90th. At midnight eight battalions had crossed the river, seven towns had been taken, and the bridgehead had been driven to a depth of three kilometers.
The following day the 357th Regiment, having crossed the river in subsequent waves, stormed the formidable Metrich forts, reducing them in bitter hand-to-had fighting. That morning the enemy, supplied with pertinent information regarding the 90th’s position, volunteered by German sympathizers, struck a powerful blow in the direction of Kerling. Unable to stem the assault, lacking armor as they did, the 359th fell back . . . but not before they had exacted such a heavy toll in the German ranks that the enemy was unable to exploit the advantages he had gained. The 358th on the right found itself caught in a vicious flanking fire from the southern emplacements of Fort Koenigsmacker which still dominated the terrain. Those elements which had scaled the top of the Fort were subjected to a murderous hail of mortar and artillery fire from which the Fort’s defenders, hidden deep in the tunnels, were immune. Explosives had to be supplied by the raging river which was still an effective barrier to supplies.
Through heavy flack swooped five artillery Cubs, flying low over the fort and dropping the necessary explosives to the doughboys who clung like leeches to the crest. With these supplies they managed to destroy several steel doors and thus gain access to a small portion of the underground tunnels.
At the day’s end the Division situation was critical. The river had broadened its channel to a width of one and a half miles. The eight infantry battalions were still unsupported by armor, and a major enemy counterattack could be expected momentarily. The infantry had fought steadily for two days and two nights; they were numbed with cold and utterly exhausted. No blankets were available, rations were insufficient, ammunition was running dangerously low. It was difficult to say which was the more formidable foe, the Germans to the front, or the river to the rear.
In spite of the incessant shelling to which they were exposed, in spite of casualties suffered in the river itself as boats capsized and sank, the valiant attempt to supply the troops continued. Somehow a few motor launches managed to get through, somehow the wounded were evacuated. On November 11th the bridge at Malling was completed, but the water on the causeway approach was so deep the vehicles were unable to reach the bridge.
Nevertheless, the three regiments forged ahead. The 359th, on the left, despite dogged resistance and fierce enemy shelling, succeeded in retaking almost all the ground lost to them in the previous day’s counterattack.
In the center of the Division zone, the 357th sliced deep into enemy territory, drove down the line of Maginot forts, advanced through hilly wooded terrain devoid of routes, and in a brilliantly executed maneuver reached a line considerably ahead of the adjacent regiments.
In the 358th’s zone, the inviolable Fort Koenigsmacker, defended by an entire battalion of the enemy fell. In what was possibly the most dramatic episode of the 90th Division’s career, the Fort, symbol to the Nazi of solid impregnability, to the American a most painful stiletto thrust in the 90th’s back, succumbed to the decimated elements of the 1st Battalion. For 72 hours the doughs on top of the Fort had accepted heavy casualties and still fought on. On the third morning the Division commander issued orders to halt the costly assault on the Fort.
The answer was typical of the spirit which motivated the 90th during those hopeless days in November. “This fort is ours! I could not ask my men to leave here now. They are more determined than I to finish the job.”
The attackers poured gallons of gasoline into the ventilators, ignited the gasoline with white phosphorous grenades, touched off the hellish ingredients with a satchel charge. More charges were dropped through other ventilator shafts, the steel doors were blown from their hinges. The enemy, blackened by smoke and flame, raced desperately from the man-made holocaust. In the meantime, another company had gained access to another section of tunnels in the rear of the Fort. The frantically fleeing Germans found themselves cut off from all avenues of escape. At the day’s end the 90th Division could truthfully say, “This fort is ours.”
And so, without a bridge, without adequate supplies, without armor, without rest, warmth or sufficient food, the Division, doubled the area of its penetration in a single day. At six in the evening, the Moselle, too, surrendered. The crest of the flood had been reached and now the waters began to subside reluctantly and sullenly at the rate of ¾ of an inch per hour. Soon the bridge would be secured and adequate support would reach the other side.
The enemy, knowing of this, perceived that no time could be lost if the 90th’s bridgehead was to be destroyed. Early in the morning of November 12th the Germans struck and struck hard. In regimental strength, supported by tanks and self-propelled artillery, the smashed from the direction of Kerling toward the village of Petite Hettange, aiming at the Moselle River and also at cutting the bridgehead in two. The 359th Regiment, outnumbered and outarmed, fell back before the initial onslaught. Some elements, completely encircled, contemptuously refused all surrender demands and fought on. A hybrid company consisting of the I & R platoon, headquarters personnel, security platoon, cooks and clerks, defended the crossroads east of Petite Hettange. Across the river 20 battalions of artillery blasted the enemy approaches to Petite Hettange. The 35th Regiment of the 24th Panzer Grenadier Division had run into a Hornet’s nest.
In the early morning hours two tank destroyers succeeded in crossing the turbulent Moselle and waded directly into battle. Troops of the 359th, unaccustomed to the sight of friendly armor for the past three days, assumed the TDs were hostile. A bazooka man offered battle only to be tackled immediately by another soldier who had fortunately recognize the painted white star on the vehicle. The football tackle just in time prevented destruction of the destroyers. The TDs entered the fray at once and knocked out two self-propelled guns, and immobilized a third.
But the two TDs were not the vanguard of the stream of armor for which the infantry was praying. The Moselle, as if in a final gesture of defiance, hurled its weight against the bridge, snapped it once more and swept its remnants 800 yards downstream. Nevertheless, in spite of the lack of armor, in spite of the cold and the rain, despite innumerable cases of “trench foot,” the 359th held. One battalion launched a flanking attack from the south, routing the enemy regiment and driving it back in confusion. This was accomplished by utterly fatigued troops who had little more than spirit and a high disregard for hazards.
On the fifth day a ferry service had been installed and a new bridge had been constructed at Cattenom. The armor and artillery began rolling in earnest. This was added punch needed to continue the drive. The bridgehead was secure, and the Division, though six of its infantry battalions were operating at only 50% strength, aimed its next blow toward the objective, contact with the 5th Division.
The sixth day saw new advances made in the face of stiff resistance. But on the sixth day the infantry was finally supplied with several luxuries to which they had grown unaccustomed in the preceding days of privation . . . luxuries in the form of blankets, overcoat, clean socks and, for some, a hot meal.
November 15th, and the Germans launched a still fiercer counter-attack in an attempt to retake the town of Distroff in which elements of the 358th were positioned. Preceded by a heavy artillery preparation, the armored attack succeeded initially in splitting the defending garrison. Accurate artillery fire and the refusal of the out-numbered defenders to be moved from their positions drove the attacking regiment back.
Over toward the east the 357th Regiment was experiencing some of the most intense enemy artillery fire in its history in the vicinity of the village of Budling. It was determined that the devastating fire was coming from the Hackenberg fortifications of the left front. Tank destroyers attempted to blast the enemy guns, but their rounds merely glanced off the concrete and steel emplacements. Eight inch and 240 mm howitzers tried their hand at reducing the gun positions, but the fire continued to halt the forward motion of the regiment. Thereupon the high velocity self-propelled Long Toms were called into action. Firing at a range of 2,000 yards they blasted the guns of Hackenberg with murderous fire. Subsequent inspection revealed that the protecting cover had been blown to shreds, the enemy guns uprooted from their mounts, and all personnel killed at the gun positions by the fierce effective fire of the Long Toms and the eight inch howitzers.
Evidence was gathered that the garrison in Metz, sensing the imminent closing of the trap, was preparing to evacuate the city. The 90th sent its troops racing southward toward a junction with the 5th Division to close the jaws of the pincers. One after another the escape highways leading out of the doomed city of Metz were cut. Enemy convoys, desperately attempting to squeeze through the ever narrowing gamut, were met by concentrated artillery fire, small arms and mortar. Now there was no stopping the 90th. With the objective in sight the Division smashed forward, brushing obstacles aside with confidence and assurance born of success.
On November 19th the 90th Reconnaissance Troop, driving south on the Division’s right, established contact with the elements of the 5th Infantry Division. The operation begun eleven days before, had succeeded. The men of the 90th had once more defeated Germany’s finest. They had waged battle with torrential rains, with mud and cold and hunger. They had violated the impregnability of Fort Koenigsmacker, reduced the guns at Hackenberg, broken through the Maginot line, and defeated on its own terms the rampaging, berserk Moselle.
Said the Army Commander, “The greatest military achievement of the war!”
The 90th counted its casualties grimly and awaited its next assignment.