The "Bulge"
Part One
0400, 1 October 1944 - cold, clammy darkness, the ceaseless drip of rain through the tall black pines, plodding through mud ankle deep, trying to keep to the path in order to avoid slit trenches and fox holes dug on either side of the pathway - Sounds like the zero-hour before the jump-off of a big attack, but it was really our introduction to our new hospital site near Clervaux, Luxemburg. We slipped and slid our way from one ambulance to another until we found the one in which we were to finish out the night by trying to get a few winks of sleep. Weary from hours of riding, we kicked off our muddy boots, grabbed a blanket and dropped off into an exhausted slumber.
On waking, the place seemed not to have improved at all. It was still wet and cold, and we were chilled through and hungry. Pulling on our boots, we climbed out of the ambulances and headed through the woods for the clearing where we hoped to find coffee and breakfast. As we walked through the woods, we could see the slit trenches and fox-holes that pitted the ground and which we had been avoiding by blind instinct while it was dark.
In the ckearing we found the Mess Section busy dishing up hot coffee and encouragement. Huddling about a bon fire to keep warm, we watched the hospital tents and our own pyramidal tents go up and then hurried inside in a determined bustle to straighten thinks out and get warm in one process. By 0800 2 October 1944 our hospital was officially open for business, and we were settled down for another "run".
Our hospital was set on the top of a wind-swept hill with the woods to our east which offered us no protection from the north winds and snows which were to know there. After days of rain, we had a lovely Indian Summer with picnics and sunny days, But these vanished all to soon and winter set in with all the wet and cold that can be imagined. we were still in tents and were using GI stoves to heat not only our tents but No. 10 cans full of water for our helmet baths. After weeks of mud which got to over knee deep in some places, the weather turned bitterly cold. The water froze in the lister bags and water trailers - snow banked up two and three feet deep around the tents - a trip to the latrine was a signal for the cry "mush" and you wished for a dog sled to complete the journey. A rigorous life, yet surprisingly enough most of us were getting along with only an occasional case of the "sniffles".
The engineers came to our rescue and tried to get us out of the knee deep mud by trucking in rock and gravel for roads and walks. They also put up some pre-fabricated German barracks into which we moved our Surgery and critically-ill wards. This was our first step in the transformation from tents to buildings. Soon after we had moved part of the hospital into the buildings, we received word to close the hospital and get ready to pull north with the veteran 2nd Division. From that time, 27 November 1944, until the 17th of December, we sat and waited for our assigned site to materialize - which it never did. During this interval we kept up a dispensary service for the 9th Armored and the 26th Infantry Divisions. Except for emergencies and our own personnel who were sick we were singularly carefree and light hearted. We organized a choir from the officers, nurses and men of the hospital and started practicing Christmas Carols. Here we welcomed our Chief Nurse, Captain Hay.
On 11 December another report came through. This time we were definitely pulling out for a new location. Down came all the pyramidal tents we had been living in and everyone moved into the German barracks until the move would start the next day. The da dawned bright and clear, but no one moved except two nurses, seven officers and several enlisted men who were sent out on DS (Detached Service) to hospitals in Malmedy. So we settled back to our monotonous waiting again which was broken a little by the announcement of three passes to Paris for the nurses and by an invitation to an Engineer dance on the coming Saturday, 16 December 1944.
On waking, the place seemed not to have improved at all. It was still wet and cold, and we were chilled through and hungry. Pulling on our boots, we climbed out of the ambulances and headed through the woods for the clearing where we hoped to find coffee and breakfast. As we walked through the woods, we could see the slit trenches and fox-holes that pitted the ground and which we had been avoiding by blind instinct while it was dark.
In the ckearing we found the Mess Section busy dishing up hot coffee and encouragement. Huddling about a bon fire to keep warm, we watched the hospital tents and our own pyramidal tents go up and then hurried inside in a determined bustle to straighten thinks out and get warm in one process. By 0800 2 October 1944 our hospital was officially open for business, and we were settled down for another "run".
Our hospital was set on the top of a wind-swept hill with the woods to our east which offered us no protection from the north winds and snows which were to know there. After days of rain, we had a lovely Indian Summer with picnics and sunny days, But these vanished all to soon and winter set in with all the wet and cold that can be imagined. we were still in tents and were using GI stoves to heat not only our tents but No. 10 cans full of water for our helmet baths. After weeks of mud which got to over knee deep in some places, the weather turned bitterly cold. The water froze in the lister bags and water trailers - snow banked up two and three feet deep around the tents - a trip to the latrine was a signal for the cry "mush" and you wished for a dog sled to complete the journey. A rigorous life, yet surprisingly enough most of us were getting along with only an occasional case of the "sniffles".
The engineers came to our rescue and tried to get us out of the knee deep mud by trucking in rock and gravel for roads and walks. They also put up some pre-fabricated German barracks into which we moved our Surgery and critically-ill wards. This was our first step in the transformation from tents to buildings. Soon after we had moved part of the hospital into the buildings, we received word to close the hospital and get ready to pull north with the veteran 2nd Division. From that time, 27 November 1944, until the 17th of December, we sat and waited for our assigned site to materialize - which it never did. During this interval we kept up a dispensary service for the 9th Armored and the 26th Infantry Divisions. Except for emergencies and our own personnel who were sick we were singularly carefree and light hearted. We organized a choir from the officers, nurses and men of the hospital and started practicing Christmas Carols. Here we welcomed our Chief Nurse, Captain Hay.
On 11 December another report came through. This time we were definitely pulling out for a new location. Down came all the pyramidal tents we had been living in and everyone moved into the German barracks until the move would start the next day. The da dawned bright and clear, but no one moved except two nurses, seven officers and several enlisted men who were sent out on DS (Detached Service) to hospitals in Malmedy. So we settled back to our monotonous waiting again which was broken a little by the announcement of three passes to Paris for the nurses and by an invitation to an Engineer dance on the coming Saturday, 16 December 1944.