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This account relates my recollection of the action of Battery
A, 67th Armored Field Artillery Battalion, 3rd Armored Division
near the town of Barenton, France, during the period August 6
- 12, 1944. My primary source of information is an account which
I wrote in the fall of 1945 of my experiences during combat in
the European Theater of Operations.
Soon after we moved from Mortain, we (Battery A) became a
part of Task Force X consisting of one company of infantry, one
company of tanks, and one battery of armored field artillery,
with two platoons of tank destroyers and two platoons of engineers
attached. We had the mission of flank guard for the main column.
Near Barenton we stopped. (At this point my notes say, "The
Krauts were as thick as flies.") I got the battery into
the best camouflaged position we were ever in, and we registered
on a Base Point at a range of 1600 yards. Ordinarily, Base Points
were more in the 3500 - 4000 yard ranges.
Let me digress from the story for a moment to say that it
was our normal procedure when occupying a new position for the
FO (Forward Observer) to identify, usually by map coordinates,
some prominent, easily recognizable target somewhat in the center
of the area where he felt we would be firing. Once that target
was fired upon and established as the Base Point, other targets
could be identified to the battery by a single command such as,
"From Base Point, Right 200, Add 400". This would identify
a new target 200 yards to the right and 400 yards beyond the
Base Point. That new target, which we called a "concentration",
could be plotted on a Firing Chart and the firing data in terms
of deflection and elevation could be computed for the guns. After
firing on the target, a Concentration Number was assigned and
the firing data recorded for future reference.
Now back to the story. We stayed in this nearly perfectly
camouflaged position one night when we were told by our battery
commander, Capt. Meyers, that we were too far back. There were
two lateral roads between us and the infantry that the Germans
could use to cut us off. We moved to a new position and re-registered
the battery at a BP range of 1150 yards. Our new Battery Position
area, an orchard, turned out to be a German artillery concentration,
so we were soon fired upon. In addition to this problem, the
area had a very limited field of fire. While in this position,
three German planes came over and two of our anti-aircraft guns
scared them away. Whether or not they saw us or recognized us
as artillery, I don't know. I don't recall seeing any other German
aircraft during daylight hours during this particular week.
We then moved to a third position area and again registered
the battery, this time at a BP range of 1200 yards. We fired
a few concentrations before dark, but did no night firing. The
first night in what was now our third position area, the Luftwaffe
in Ju-88's came over, dropped flares and bombed our well-camouflaged
first position. We had been out of it less than six hours.
We did quite a bit of firing by day. We didn't know it but
the 2nd Armored Division was trying to get to us, but we were
completely cut off. Our resupply was principally taken care of
by supply vehicles that had become lost in the confusion of the
battle and could not get to their own units. I can't recall that
any of those drivers were specifically looking for us, but there
may have been some. I might add that it was my experience that
in combat one's world tended to shrink to what could be seen
and heard.
German aircraft were over nearly every night, dropping flares
and bombs, trying to find us. We were closer to the front than
they thought so the areas far behind us got the bombs.
Capt. Meyers spent nearly all his time forward with the tanks
and infantry acting as the FO (Forward Observer) along with Lt.
Bill Martin. Most of our fire missions seemed to come to us through
Bill Martin.
One morning at dawn Bill Martin called on the radio with a fire
mission, speaking in barely a whisper. On one of the roads leading
into Barenton was a panzer battalion stopped by the roadblock
that had been put up by the engineers. We fired a heavy concentration
and repelled them. The infantry had quite a few casualties, not
from our fire but from the panzer unit. Hitler had ordered Avranches
retaken and the panzer outfit had to go through us to get there.
Later in the day Lt. Martin came back to our battery position
and I told him I could hardly hear him on the radio when he called
in with that early morning fire mission. He said that he had
to whisper because there was a German mortar squad setting up
just on the other side of the hedgerow where he was.
We got at least one more such early morning attack which was
also repelled. The Germans had no air cover and little reconnaissance,
so I doubt if they ever really knew just how small our force
was. The 2nd Armored Division fought their way in to us just
about the time our infantry had taken the town. We were told
that the infantry company that had been almost full-strength
(about 120 men) at the beginning was now down to 18 men.
The 2nd Armored came with tanks and artillery, and I was told
to turn over my firing charts and information to the S-3, a Major,
of one of their artillery battalions. This I did late one night,
and before long we were on our way to help close the Falaise-Argentan
Gap.
Just a footnote to this turnover of information to the S-3
from the 2nd Armored Division - After the war, maybe February
or March of 1946, a party was held in my hometown to honor a
nephew of some very close friends of my parents. The nephew had
served in the ETO during the war and I was invited to join the
party. After meeting this man, we began to compare notes on our
time in the ETO and it turned out that he was the Major from
the 2nd Armored that I had given all our firing data, overlays,
etc. that night in his S-3 halftrack. We had worked with only
enough light to see the maps, never finding it necessary to tell
each other our names. He knew I was the Exec of the Battery he
was relieving, and I knew him to be the person to whom I was
to give my information. In blackout conditions we never even
saw each other's faces. His name was Walter Mytinger and, as
far as I know, he now lives in Chillicothe, Ohio.
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