bostaurus
Well-Known Member
I just found out last week that my daughter won a second in the Southern Literary Festival for an essay she wrote. She has been writing stories since she was about 11 years old and, as her mother, I always thought they were good.
I wanted to share this one with you all. Hope you don't mind.
SHROUDS OF SNOW
“Few, few, shall part where many meet!
The snow shall be their winding-sheet,
And every turf beneath their feet
Shall be a soldier’s sepulchre.â€
~Thomas Campbell
-July 31st, 2007-
The road is remarkably smooth, a long undulating line of grey-black asphalt that
twists between trees. It feels like climbing a mountain, but this is Belgium, so it is only a
series of hills and valleys with tiny villages that all begin to look alike. Our Toyota
minivan is the bulkiest family car on the road, dominating tiny Opels and Audis in size
even as they whip past us. Josh, Sarah, and I are curled in our seats, listening to music
and courting the Sandman. We were out of our house at the ungodly hour of six this
morning; the only perky person in the car is my father.
As the commander of the U.S. Army’s Northern European Veterinary
Detachment, Father has several duties, one of which is handing out promotions. One of
his captains (soon to be a major) is stationed at a Belgian NATO base, so we get to tag
along and experience Belgium. We are so thrilled.
Again, we are not morning people.
We sit back and let the blurring trees hypnotize us into daydreams, as Father
drives toward our first stop of the day—a place he calls Malmédy.
-December 17th, 1944-
The once-muddy roads are frozen, small sections icy with melted snow. Black
trees line the wayside like silent sentinels as grumbling engines threaten to shake the
icicles from their branches.
To the southeast, the heavy treads of German tanks make the ground tremble; the
1st SS Panzer Division has entered Belgium. Their targets: the bridges over the Meuse
River, and later, an ambition to seize the city of Antwerp, all part of the beginning of
Hitler’s counteroffensive “Wacht am Rhein.†The division’s leading formation,
Kampfgruppe Peiper, is already twelve hours behind schedule and Lt. Col. Joachim
Peiper is frustrated. Creating a gap in the American defenses—one large enough for
tanks, artillery, and a myriad of other vehicles—took much too long. The US 99th
Infantry Division had been a tougher enemy than expected, and now his lead element is
reduced from seven tanks and a platoon of halftracks, to two tanks and two halftracks.
Peiper is not a happy man as his tanks lumber toward the Baugnez crossroads.
In the opposite direction, an American convoy rolls along a rutted road edged
with brown slush. This is Battery B of the 285th Field Artillery Observation Battalion, a
long line of maintenance trucks, jeeps, and command cars that stretches over a couple
miles of road. They are moving to Luxembourg to join the VIII Corps; their commander,
Captain Scarborough, had left the day before to prepare the new camp. Now, the convoy
rumbles toward a tiny Belgian village named Malmédy, and reaches the hamlet at noon.
There, amidst quaint medieval houses with curved barn-roofs and mined bridges
marked off with tape, the convoy crosses paths with elements of the 7th Armored Division
making their way to St. Vith. The soldiers jeer, wave, and grin at each other as they pass;
from their windows, Belgians watch the young Americans with weary eyes. Battery B is
paused at the east end of Malmédy by an Army engineer, Lt. Col. David Pergrin. Part of
his command has stayed behind to protect the important N-23 road, and his jeep patrol
has brought news. A column of German armor is approaching the southeast; it would be a
bad idea, Pergrin tells Lieutenant Ksidzek, to head that way. They should turn around,
take the alternate route to St. Vith.
No, we have our orders—the artillerymen are firm in their decision—we have a
planned route, with men up ahead that need to be picked up. We’re going forward.
So they move up through patchy snow and sludge, spindly trees stark black
slashes against the frozen brown fields stretching on either side. The sky is clear, the sun
shining despite the frigid temperature, and Five Points, the Baugnez crossroads, is only a
few miles ahead.
Peiper’s tanks reach Baugnez just as Battery B arrives.
All is confusion and chaos. The two tanks of Peiper’s lead element pound the
vulnerable convoy with 75mm shells, then circle around behind the broken Battery.
Wreckage is scattered across the road, abandoned vehicles burning, crushed, or punched
with holes. The shocked Americans have fled to the shaky cover of the roadside ditches,
but safety is nowhere to be found. The tanks begin spraying machine guns under the
order of Lt. Sternebeck; he wants to force the soldiers to surrender. With no heavy
artillery, the Americans have no choice but to give up.
Peiper is furious. They are twelve hours behind already; this delay is intolerable!
He immediately orders Sternebeck to move on to Ligneuville. Peiper follows soon after
with a Mark V Panther tank and the halftracks from his 11th SS Panzergrenadier
Company. As the German armor trails their commander, the unarmed American prisoners
are herded into a field next to a lonely café, which, along with a few isolated farmhouses,
is the only sign of habitation near the crossroads. By two o’clock in the afternoon, one
hundred and thirteen soldiers are in the field. The Battery B boys are joined by prisoners
from various units captured before Peiper reached Baugnez, and by medics and military
policemen who had the bad fortune to be caught at the crossroads.
At two-fifteen, the Germans open fire.
-January 14th, 1945-
Pergrin’s engineers stand in a white field next to a small café, mine detectors in
their hands. They have heard the stories of the Malmédy Massacre, listened to the
rumors, but here is proof.
Seventy-one bodies lie before them, frozen in twisted positions. Snow covers
them, surrounds them like Nature’s own shroud. Uniforms are intact, unit patches bright
on sodden wool; the 285th Field Artillery Observation Battalion, the 23rd Infantry
Regiment, the 32nd Armored Reconnaissance, and others. Later autopsies will confirm
forty-three died from shots to the head; this backs up the story of a hiding soldier, who
saw the Germans walk through the killing field and shoot any survivors. Nine bodies
were found with their arms still stretched above their heads, pleading for clemency that
was never granted.
-July 31st, 2007-
It’s a chilly day for July. We wander down a cobbled street in Malmédy as the
wind brushes cold fingers against our cheeks and flaps the lone American flag like a
woman airing her sheets. The flagpole stands in the middle of a star shaped in Texas
roses, a wall of rough sandy-colored stone curving around the alcove behind the small
garden.
Brown-grey leaves are scattered on the tiled floor of the alcove, bunched beneath
a skeletal figure of Jesus pinned to a wooden cross. There is a plaque here, and another
set at the Baugnez crossroads. Both carry the names of the eighty-four soldiers that died
in the Malmédy Massacre.
I’m not sleepy anymore.
I wanted to share this one with you all. Hope you don't mind.
SHROUDS OF SNOW
“Few, few, shall part where many meet!
The snow shall be their winding-sheet,
And every turf beneath their feet
Shall be a soldier’s sepulchre.â€
~Thomas Campbell
-July 31st, 2007-
The road is remarkably smooth, a long undulating line of grey-black asphalt that
twists between trees. It feels like climbing a mountain, but this is Belgium, so it is only a
series of hills and valleys with tiny villages that all begin to look alike. Our Toyota
minivan is the bulkiest family car on the road, dominating tiny Opels and Audis in size
even as they whip past us. Josh, Sarah, and I are curled in our seats, listening to music
and courting the Sandman. We were out of our house at the ungodly hour of six this
morning; the only perky person in the car is my father.
As the commander of the U.S. Army’s Northern European Veterinary
Detachment, Father has several duties, one of which is handing out promotions. One of
his captains (soon to be a major) is stationed at a Belgian NATO base, so we get to tag
along and experience Belgium. We are so thrilled.
Again, we are not morning people.
We sit back and let the blurring trees hypnotize us into daydreams, as Father
drives toward our first stop of the day—a place he calls Malmédy.
-December 17th, 1944-
The once-muddy roads are frozen, small sections icy with melted snow. Black
trees line the wayside like silent sentinels as grumbling engines threaten to shake the
icicles from their branches.
To the southeast, the heavy treads of German tanks make the ground tremble; the
1st SS Panzer Division has entered Belgium. Their targets: the bridges over the Meuse
River, and later, an ambition to seize the city of Antwerp, all part of the beginning of
Hitler’s counteroffensive “Wacht am Rhein.†The division’s leading formation,
Kampfgruppe Peiper, is already twelve hours behind schedule and Lt. Col. Joachim
Peiper is frustrated. Creating a gap in the American defenses—one large enough for
tanks, artillery, and a myriad of other vehicles—took much too long. The US 99th
Infantry Division had been a tougher enemy than expected, and now his lead element is
reduced from seven tanks and a platoon of halftracks, to two tanks and two halftracks.
Peiper is not a happy man as his tanks lumber toward the Baugnez crossroads.
In the opposite direction, an American convoy rolls along a rutted road edged
with brown slush. This is Battery B of the 285th Field Artillery Observation Battalion, a
long line of maintenance trucks, jeeps, and command cars that stretches over a couple
miles of road. They are moving to Luxembourg to join the VIII Corps; their commander,
Captain Scarborough, had left the day before to prepare the new camp. Now, the convoy
rumbles toward a tiny Belgian village named Malmédy, and reaches the hamlet at noon.
There, amidst quaint medieval houses with curved barn-roofs and mined bridges
marked off with tape, the convoy crosses paths with elements of the 7th Armored Division
making their way to St. Vith. The soldiers jeer, wave, and grin at each other as they pass;
from their windows, Belgians watch the young Americans with weary eyes. Battery B is
paused at the east end of Malmédy by an Army engineer, Lt. Col. David Pergrin. Part of
his command has stayed behind to protect the important N-23 road, and his jeep patrol
has brought news. A column of German armor is approaching the southeast; it would be a
bad idea, Pergrin tells Lieutenant Ksidzek, to head that way. They should turn around,
take the alternate route to St. Vith.
No, we have our orders—the artillerymen are firm in their decision—we have a
planned route, with men up ahead that need to be picked up. We’re going forward.
So they move up through patchy snow and sludge, spindly trees stark black
slashes against the frozen brown fields stretching on either side. The sky is clear, the sun
shining despite the frigid temperature, and Five Points, the Baugnez crossroads, is only a
few miles ahead.
Peiper’s tanks reach Baugnez just as Battery B arrives.
All is confusion and chaos. The two tanks of Peiper’s lead element pound the
vulnerable convoy with 75mm shells, then circle around behind the broken Battery.
Wreckage is scattered across the road, abandoned vehicles burning, crushed, or punched
with holes. The shocked Americans have fled to the shaky cover of the roadside ditches,
but safety is nowhere to be found. The tanks begin spraying machine guns under the
order of Lt. Sternebeck; he wants to force the soldiers to surrender. With no heavy
artillery, the Americans have no choice but to give up.
Peiper is furious. They are twelve hours behind already; this delay is intolerable!
He immediately orders Sternebeck to move on to Ligneuville. Peiper follows soon after
with a Mark V Panther tank and the halftracks from his 11th SS Panzergrenadier
Company. As the German armor trails their commander, the unarmed American prisoners
are herded into a field next to a lonely café, which, along with a few isolated farmhouses,
is the only sign of habitation near the crossroads. By two o’clock in the afternoon, one
hundred and thirteen soldiers are in the field. The Battery B boys are joined by prisoners
from various units captured before Peiper reached Baugnez, and by medics and military
policemen who had the bad fortune to be caught at the crossroads.
At two-fifteen, the Germans open fire.
-January 14th, 1945-
Pergrin’s engineers stand in a white field next to a small café, mine detectors in
their hands. They have heard the stories of the Malmédy Massacre, listened to the
rumors, but here is proof.
Seventy-one bodies lie before them, frozen in twisted positions. Snow covers
them, surrounds them like Nature’s own shroud. Uniforms are intact, unit patches bright
on sodden wool; the 285th Field Artillery Observation Battalion, the 23rd Infantry
Regiment, the 32nd Armored Reconnaissance, and others. Later autopsies will confirm
forty-three died from shots to the head; this backs up the story of a hiding soldier, who
saw the Germans walk through the killing field and shoot any survivors. Nine bodies
were found with their arms still stretched above their heads, pleading for clemency that
was never granted.
-July 31st, 2007-
It’s a chilly day for July. We wander down a cobbled street in Malmédy as the
wind brushes cold fingers against our cheeks and flaps the lone American flag like a
woman airing her sheets. The flagpole stands in the middle of a star shaped in Texas
roses, a wall of rough sandy-colored stone curving around the alcove behind the small
garden.
Brown-grey leaves are scattered on the tiled floor of the alcove, bunched beneath
a skeletal figure of Jesus pinned to a wooden cross. There is a plaque here, and another
set at the Baugnez crossroads. Both carry the names of the eighty-four soldiers that died
in the Malmédy Massacre.
I’m not sleepy anymore.
] Just kiddin Stephen and James either of you two would have came in second to this girl........A lost art nowadays Melinda,she will do well in what ever field she chooses,she has good pedigree in her.Tell her I said congratulations!!
