"I was on sentry duty from four to six of the morning of December 16, 1944. Toward the end of my watch, I saw that the horizon was brightly lit as if by searchlights. I entered my sleeping hole, but I sensed there was something wrong. In addition to the light, the warnings we had been given recently were contributing... to my uneasy feeling.
"I had just taken off my boots when the first shell struck. There were tree bursts and shrapnel was entering the small opening of my sleeping hole. I put on my boots and was outside seconds after the shelling stopped. I dropped into the nearest fox hole, and by the time I reached (it) the first squad's (machine) gun had started to fire, and the second squad's, shortly thereafter. The bright light, which would have silhouetted the attacking Germans coming over the rise, was gone, and I had difficulty picking out targets. Tracers and one or two flares revealed bodies crawling towards us. (AN: He was supporting the machine gun crews with fire from a carbine.)
"I heard a shout in German a few yards in front of me.. .1 recognized only the last word: 'Hitler.' (AN: Although the Volksgrenadiers weren't thinking about Adolph just then, an odd officer or NCO might have used the name to try to exhort his Landser.) Then there were two sharp explosions one or two yards to my right—hand grenades, and these were followed by a burst of a burp gun (German machine pistol) fire. The bullets struck the embanked dirt in front of my hole, and dislodged stones struck me in the face."
"Gradually the firing decreased in volume. We had stopped the attack. With the increasing light, I could see at least a dozen bodies lying in front of us. To my right just at the edge of the highway, a German lay with his body pointed directly at our (machine) gun. He was so close that I was concerned that the gun could not be depressed far enough to ' stop him, so I fired two rounds into his body. He was already dead."
"Shortly after this, the burp gunner—probably the officer who earlier had tried to exhort his men—tossed away his weapon, tentatively raised his head, and slowly began to get up. Several rifle shots were fired. He dropped to the ground and did not move again.
"From the edge of the field, a German with a light machine gun on a sled stood up, shouted something and pointed to the blood at his abdomen. He continued to call to us, either begging us to help him or to finish him off, I couldn't determine which. After about fifteen minutes, he fell to the ground and did not move again.
“All was quiet the rest of the day.”
Lionel P. Adda, ammunition bearer, heavy machine gun squad,
"D" Company, 393rd Infantry, 99th Division
"The Shock of War" by J.C. Doherty