Gunshot - on the way!

The 28th is the medium Artillery of the Eighth Infantry Division Artillery, and was equipped with 155-mm Howitzers, the heaviest caliber weapon of the Division.  In great measure the history of the Division covers the history of the 28th, but as is the case of all separate units it has its own history, heroes and achievements.

GUNSHOT-ON THE WAY!  These words, signaling another round or volley leaving the guns of the 28th Field Artillery Battalion, were flashed by radio or telephone more than eighty thousand times during the battles to overwhelm the German Wehrmacht.  GUNSHOT-ON THE WAY!  To all artillerymen, these are magic words, anxiously awaited by the observers crouched in their foxholes.  GUNSHOT - ON THE WAY! To the infantrymen they are the words of a great battle song for soon, in a matter of seconds, the scream of one hundred pound shells through the air above announces more dead Huns in front of them, and easier going after the jump-off.  GUNSHOT-ON THE WAY! Weary cannoneers, covering their ears, hear the roar of their guns, and begin preparations for the next and the next and the next rounds.

Ever ready, always true, Gunshot - the code name of the 28th Field Artillery Battalion is well known throughout the Division and in many Corps and Armies.  Its reputation did not come the easy way.  The story is one of hard work and more work.  It is also a story of valiant and brave men, who on the battlefield, acquitted themselves in actions and deeds that will never be forgotten.  Here is the story in Brief.

On 5 December 1943, at 3 A.M., on a cold bleak morning in New York Harbor, a long line of solders carrying staggering packs filed aboard the ship Durban Castle.  This British ship, designed to carry eighteen hundred, was loaded with three thousand two hundred officers and men.  Destination - unknown.  Packed in like cotton in a bale, with half enough bunks to go around, the men were bewildered, tired.  Everyone below deck! All men on deck!  So it went -- up and down -- still loaded with that terrible horseshoe pack, ammunition and carbines.  Officers worked frantically to make order out of chaos.  It took three days of work to make the ship partially livable -- with men sleeping everywhere.  Abroad, eating English chow for the first time, were the men of the Twenty-eighth Field.  Most of them hailing from the South, had little stomach for the strange stuff served them called chow.  Quite a number couldn’t have eaten steak.  They were definitely ‘out of action.’  The seas were rough, the going tough.  The Chaplain's Service became so popular that there wasn’t a room large enough to hold all the men.  So, twelve days later, Belfast Harbor looked beautiful -- in the rain.  Hell would have looked beautiful, too -- anything, anywhere but the Durban Castle!

The unloading, as usual, was doe at night, and the men of the 28th, groggy but most willing, filed aboard the trains to take them into Ireland - to the place where they were destined to spend six wet months -- to the Castle Aughentaine, near the small village of Clogher, and Fivemiletown in the County of Tyrone.

No one will ever forget that wet, cold black morning -- the initiation to the horrors of Nissen huts, British stoves, and Irish weather.  Yet is was such a grand feeling to be off that accursed ship that the gripes of future weeks and months were never voiced -- everyone tumbled into the nearest bunk or just lay on the floors and slept their first sleep in two weeks.

To recount the six months spent in Ireland in heavy training would only serve to make everyone mad, but it must be remembered that it was there that certain techniques were built up which became the gospel on the battlefield.  The forward switching central -- map reading -- the build up of air observers -- radio techniques - sinking the guns in the damned Irish bogs - waterproofing everything -- alerts and more alerts - practice landings - and those two days of sunshine!  Remember?  Even the roads were unaccustomed to such a treat - all the tar melted.  Visits by General Patton and General Eisenhower, movies in the mess hall -- ball games on the hill -- those affairs called dances in Clogher courthouse - Irish beer and whisky - Women?  What women?

Everyone was changed after D-day.  Possibly getting out of Ireland had something to so with it, but the battalion was unanimous in its desires to hit the beach in France, and it wasn’t long in coming.  On 1 July 1944, the 28th Field, half loaded on the Liberty Ship Ackerson. the rest aboard the passenger liner, Exchequer, sailed from Belfast Harbor headed for France and the war.  On the 4th of July it was reality.  Omaha Beach - and ashore again. 

There is something memorable about firsts: the first trip in a train, or a ship, for example.  The first battle reconnaissance and occupation of position by the 28th Field Artillery will always be remembered by all ranks -- it seems funny now.  Every field had something in it.  Hell, there wasn't room for another battalion of artillery in it.  No defilade! Jerry can pop us off like ducks if we go into the only available Fields!  The weather was fine, though everyone sweated, although some of it was of the cold variety.

Gunshot was to reinforce the fires of the 90th Division Artillery, already in the line, in the vicinity of the Foret de Monte Castro. That night the Battalion moved into position.  The forward observers went out -- into the front lines for the first  time.  No one had to order foxholes dug.  Everyone was eager to dig a nice deep one -- with a roof.  Baker Battery caught a little shelling.  At 6 A.M. on the 6th of July, the first round was fired by Battery B.  Twenty-four hours later five hundred and twelve rounds had been fired, and Gunshot was speaking -- in a voice of authority.  The battalion was proud of its first day's efforts when the 90th Division said of it: ‘ The line was held by a handful of Engineers and the fire from the 28th Field Artillery.’  Yes, GUNSHOT - ON THE WAY was beginning to be a popular song.

On 8 July the Division as a whole was committed to action.  Gunshot, in general support, was very busy.  The Germans took time out to throw a few their way, but only succeeded in wrecking one gun tire.  The foxholes were getting better and better.

No one in the 28th will ever forget the position area near Laulne which was occupied on the 15th of July and where the battalion remained until the 27th.  Uncounted incidents occurred, many tragic, some funny.  Every battery reported heavy shelling.  The telephone lines were out continuously.  Staff Sergeant Chester Saboka, Mess Sergeant of Headquarters Battery, had his knee shattered and the canteen cup he was holding was atomized by shell fragments.  All night the Germans harassed the battalion by shell fire and air bombardment.  Building bigger and better foxholes was the most popular sport in every battery area.

On the 23rd of July, after a few days of relative quite, the Hun cracked back again.  With a lucky round he hit Battery A’s switchboard with a shell, and Privates Caldwell and Cunningham were wounded.  Every battery lost equipment, kitchens seemingly catching most of it.  Headquarters Battery had their canned food scattered over two fields.  One man was wounded by a can of corn!

Captain Tayole’s foxhole received a direct hit, but Tayloe wasn't in it -- he was borrowing someone else’s! The men were all a little shell happy -- they had the foxhole jump down cold.  But the siege was lifting.  On the 26th of July, the Division jumped the Ay River, and the armor poured across.  At St. Lo, the big breakthrough was successful.  Gunshot, licking its wounds, crossed the Ay River and began a series of displacements destined to continue right through Normandy and into Brittany.

Crossing the Ay was a tough job in itself.  The infantry was having a rough time with mines and booby traps.  The 28th Field Artillery laid a curtain of fire in front of the doughs and finally, on the 27th, they broke out.  The rest of the month was devoted to moving south.  The roads were jammed with armor and men - Remember Countances? The armies were on the move, and the 28th Field Artillery, along with the rest of the Eighth Division, transferred to the Third U.S. Army of General Patton, and prepared for the drive through Brittany.  Gunshot was now a veteran outfit, blooded on the battlefield.  It had given a hundredfold more than it had taken, and all men had a healthy respect for camouflage, a hole in the ground, and their own weapons.  It had been shelled, mortared, and bombed; but always it delivered the goods.  The fiber and backbone of a great organization had been constructed.

The division was engrossed in collecting stragglers of the Wehrmacht at Rennes, and in fighting the Hun with the 83rd division at St. Malo.  On the 16th of August, Gunshot was called upon to help the Sixth Armored at Brest, The 45th Field Artillery was already there and reported a very warm reception.  So with gleams in their eyes and hands outstretched for calvados, wine, eggs, or onions, the men of the Battalion hurried to Brest.  The fun was over on the 18th when once again, the 28th was in line, hurling shells at the Boche.  The 45th was right - Jerry wanted Brest, and didn’t want any Yanks around his bailiwick.

On the 24th of August the Eighth Division was reassembled again at Brest, and Gunshot was recalled and placed under Division control.  The battle for Brest was about to open; a battle destined to last a month; to be one of the most bitter and least publicized fights of all the battles in Europe.  From an artillery standpoint, it was a good show.  Observation was excellent, targets were plentiful.  The attack jumped off at 1 P.M., 25th of August.  Gunshot fired in the preparation and on many targets, but the Hun was well emplaced. and was fighting bitterly.  Lt.. Blair and his party, consisting of Technician 5th Grade (then Pfc.) Nichols, and Private First Class Clapis, were with the 13th Infantry on their assault on ‘Hill 88.’  His gallant actions and those of his party are told in their citations for awards.

Observation Post duty was quite a lively occupation at Brest.  The approved solution was to look, and then duck quick.  As the doughboys pressed the enemy back. Jerry grew more desperate and started throwing the kitchen sink regularly.  The observers were on the ball, however, and hundreds of enemy guns, machine guns and mortars were destroyed.  Later inspection indicated how terrible the fire had been.  Eighty-eight millimeter guns were torn from their moorings.  Pillboxes lay shattered.  Kraut corpses were everywhere in evidence.

On the 10th of September, after a bitter fight, the Division reached its objectives; the first Division of the Corps to do so.  But the old story no rest for the weary, applied.  The Eighth was ordered to the Crozon Peninsula, south of Brest, to clean it up and open the harbor.  It was to be strictly an Eighth Division show.  The real test was here.  The Hun had had four years to fortify the place had honeycombed it with pillboxes, and was defending it with over eight thousand men.

On 13 September, Gunshot closed in its new area on the Crozon Peninsula.

To the front were a few FFI (French Forces of the Interior) on patrol duty.  They were also in the rear, chiseling gas to haul their ever-present women around (seems like the approved solution).  The doughs were to come in line next day.  Fortunately for the battalion, which sneaked into position by infiltration, the Boche failed to see the  movement; though may hearts beat fast that night and the sentries were shooting at shadows and cows.

The following day the doughboys jumped off.  Again the 8th firing walls of explosive helped them on their way.  The resistance was stubborn -- the going slow.  The tricky German had many hidden mortars and guns -- something must be done.  Captain Peterson, Technical Sergeant Medwedik and Sergeant Leary, all of the battalion staff, dug up two Frenchmen, Louis Balay and Jean Cadieu, just freed from German lines.  These two men gave Captain Peterson a complete plot of German installations.  All that night the staff labored ion the plots.  The next morning all was in readiness, and all hell broke loose, for the Division was given the dope and had concentrated dozens of guns on the targets.  The Hun weakened -- the doughboy, quick to react, gave him no rest.

The next day, 17 September, the Boche broke.  Doughboys poured through the breached lines and the pursuit was on.  Twice Gunshot displaced forward, covering the infantry, firing on the fleeing enemy.  The next day was a repeat performance -- two jumps forward, and continued pursuit.  Jerry was finished.  The Battalion moved into a former German Headquarters at Els Coates - one of its shells had blown out a wall, and all the evidence of hasty German departure was scattered about -- everyone had a lot of fun here for the first time since departure from soggy Ireland  of all Headquarters Battery men had a bed -- yes a bed -- to sleep in. of course.

One more day was to prove the end of the war for Jerry on the Crozon.  He was bottled up on the northern prong of the peninsula, but had formidable defense work to help him hold it.  Gunshot prepared.  Service Battery, pulling ammunition one hundred and eight miles was working day and night.  This superb outfit, in charge of feeding, clothing and passing the ammunition, never once failed the Battalion.  On Crozon, with action at white heat, and its hauling requiring hours, Service Battery fulfilled all of its missions with dash and vigor.

At 0900 hours on the morning of the 18th a thundering barrage shook Crozon.  Gunshot and its cohorts were beginning the reduction of the wall and the fort that barred the path of the infantry.  For two hours, under a blistering sun, the cannoneers sweated, firing eighteen hundred rounds into the German fort.  When the fire was lifted at 1100 hours, the doughs plowed through the rubble.  Jerry had quit.  He couldn’t take his own medicine.  Crozon was captured.  The banners of the Eighth Division flew proudly over the conquered citadels.  Gunshot, proud of its part, rested and was happy.

The rest cure for the Division was short -- lived.  On the 27th of September, Gunshot started its long march across France; destination Luxembourg and the front once more.

The Luxembourg front proved quite.  The supplies for the armies were left behind in the dash across France and a new buildup was in the making.  The weather, as usual was foul, ammunition scarce.  For six weeks Gunshot did what it could to harass, annoy and irate Jerry, and to amuse himself all the while.  The center of social activity was a large barn in the village of Etegen.  Remember the movies, USO shows, G.I. shows and concerts?  Beer was available daily (four francs a glass).  Luxembourg women were big and strong.  The story that they were used to pull the plows in the spring was never disputed.  It rained continuously.  Battery areas were knee deep in mud.  The weather was turning colder, so log cabins were constructed.  Yes, it could have been worse.

When finally, on 15 November, the Battalion was suddenly and without warning ordered into Germany proper, no one shed too many tears.  The destination was the dread Hurtgen Forest.

Hurtgen Forest; deep dark, foreboding; honeycombed with German pillboxes, blockhouses, mines and booby traps; the key to the Siegfried defenses.  Hurtgen forest -- cold bloody, hip deep in mud.  The doughboys made Hurtgen immortal; the men of Gunshot salute their comrades in arms, the infantrymen who suffered so much in the Hurtgen campaign.

Gunshot hacked its positions out of sold forest and moved in.  The guns bogged down -- shades of Ireland - but superhuman effort put them into action.  Snow, sleet, rain and hail -- huts to be built, ammunition stored -- a Command Post built -- and the battle was on.

Jerry was solidly entrenched and was throwing the book at the doughboys.  Never was so much fire encountered before.  If a hundred yards were gained the Hun counterattacked.  Gunshot fired many a normal barrage attempting to break the German formations.  On one counterattack, all the ammunition in the battalion, over nine hundred rounds, was fired except for eighty rounds.  That attack was stopped but it was a close call.

Lieutenant Blair was hit for the second time in this fight.  He carried on until relieved though he was badly hurt.  The cannoneers, working in mud above their knees, labored until exhausted.  Cooks, KPs, truck drivers and mechanics helped out.  The pace was terrific, and it went on, day after day -- night after night.  Observers and their parties were returning so exhausted that they were useless for days.

Hurtgen Forest was hard on Battery C.  During the early evening of the Ninth of December a Jerry plane swooped over and dropped twenty termite bombs in their area.  Latent Sanders, Battery Executive, instantly rushed to his guns, and with the help of his men put out the fires and carried the ammunition to safety.  For this brave deed he was awarded the Bronze Star Medal.

The doughboys were now advancing, Hurtgen, Vossenack, Kleinhau, Brandenburg, and Bergstein had fallen.  The Roer River was reached.  The key to the terrain, the village of Schmidt, was being outflanked.  Then came the German counter blow, the battle of the bulge.

The night of the 17th - Alert! Alert! - Paratroopers being dropped in the area!  Jerry planes were a dime a dozen -- dropping flares all over the place.  Battery C’s Ack Ack got two of them.  Everyone was trigger happy.  The Division attack slowed, then stopped, as the size of the German effort became apparent.  Rumors were flowing retreat Barbed wire was strung, mines were laid.  Enlisted men and officers were posted in watch towers to catch any paratrooper movement.  Road patrols -- building blockhouses -- blasting trenches.  Gunshot was ready.  Let the Boche come.  He would be mowed down to the last man.

January was a bitter month.  As the big battle just to the Division’s south flank swung in favor in favor of the Allies, plans were in the making to continue the offensive and cross the Roer River, now flooded by snow and rain.  But the Division was not destined to continue its assault in place.  It had won the Hurtgen Forest and the banks of the Roer behind it.  GUNSHOT - ON - THE WAY! Was sung more than twenty-thousand times in the struggle, and the doughboys were grateful as the chant reached its crescendo.  Now a new task was given the Division and the 28th -- to force the Roer River farther north to capture the City of Duren, and to drive to the Rhine.  Gunshot was ready, willing and able.  The battalion had a score to settle with the Germans, and the sooner done the better.

On February 8, the 28th moved north to the position designated for the big push across the Roer.  The command Post was in a spacious basement, but the rest of the Battalion was, as usual, in the mud.

The Roer proved to be a tough nut to crack.  For two Days doughboys labored and sweated while the Boche just poured fire on them.  Gunshot, in the meantime, poured fire on the Boche.  Three thousand rounds were fired in two days.  The cannoneers, still working in mud, paid off.  Duren fell on the 25th after a tough fight.  That very afternoon the Battalion displaced to the East side of the town into the mortar position area.  On the reconnaissance forty Jerries were captured.  Duren was really beaten up.  Aachen was in perfect shape in comparison.  The 28th had good luck at their handiwork, and crossed off a few names on the list.  The Boche was paying for his orgy, paying heavily.

Now the pressure was on.  The night attack was in vogue.  The Germans were confused and shaken.  The doughboys pressed their advantage to the full.  Gunshot was displacing daily and keeping well forward.  Remember Girbelsrath, when Battery B was shelled before they even dropped trails. Blatzheim, in a night reconnaissance and occupation, and in between, those huge shells the Huns were throwing our way?  Gunshot moved into that one 500 yards from the doughboys.  They were mad as hell because the tractors made too much noise.  Even the airstrip was shelled and the 28th lost a plane.  Prisoners were showing up in good size batches.  The Eighth Division was rolling and would not be stopped.

The 28th had been firing into Cologne for some time to soften that shambles of a city for the infantry.  To everyone’s disgust, just as Cologne was reached the Division was switched south to block the retreat of the Boche.  It was no thrill to capture just the South edge; the Eighth wanted all of it.  However, some fun was to come of it.  Jerry tried to cross the Rhine in barges, and in broad daylight!  Gunshot - on the way! And the barges started to scatter.  Gunshot - on the way! And they were sunk.

When the Remagen Bridge was grabbed, the entire Division began a series of shifts up and down the Rhine to cover the flank of the bridgehead.  The 28th found some good spots -- from the heart of burned out Cologne to the city of Bonn to the South.

The 28th Field Artillery was eager to cross the Rhine.  Defensive action over, it was with great delight that Gunshot received orders to cross the Rhine on the 28th of March. The entire Division was to move across, but its mission when across was unknown.  Remember the big picture on that date?  The First Army had broken out of the Remagen Bridgehead and swung wide to the North.  It had hooked up with the Ninth Army and a huge pocket had been made.  Tank columns were roaming all over Germany.  There were many battles to be fought.  About 3 P.M. on the 28th of March, Colonel Chesarek's reconnaissance jeep crossed the Rhine followed by his party.

The Battalion marched at night and crossed the Rhine at 8:30 P.M. It was a mean march.  The roads on the East side of the river were terrific.  It wasn’t until 3 o’clock in the morning that all elements were across.  Another leg of the battle record of Gunshot was about to begin.

The Division front was miles long.  The doughboys were spread as thin as Captain Taylor’s hair.  The Artillery would have to break up the Boche formations, and there wasn’t too much artillery available.  Never a man to wait on his opponent, General Moore ordered the Eighth to attack first.  It crossed the Sing River and began an assault on the large city of Steven, key to the German defense.  This attack began on April 1.  The Hun, preparing his own breakout, fought back bitterly.  The battle was one of the heaviest yet fought.  Objectives had to be taken and retaken five times.  On one day, the Division stopped seventeen counterattacks.  Gunshot was pouring out the shells.  Every officer that could be speared was up front as an observer.

The drive to split the Ruhr pocket asunder was begun on the 8th of April.  For the artillery, the race to the North was the most difficult fight it had as yet encountered.  The doughboys were driving up main roads, and leaving their flanks and rear wide open.  Every displacement by the artillery developed into a fire fight.  Sometimes batteries were cut off completely.  Everyone had a hell of a time.  Two displacements a day became a daily event.

The reconnaissance early in the morning of the 12th, in the town of Kierpse, was quite a show.  Jerry opened up on the Headquarters party first with burp guns.  Corporal Carreras, manning the machine gun on the Colonel’s jeep, blasted back.  Technician Fifth Grade Taylor sat calmly on top of the weapons carrier, shooting his carbine.  Everyone else opened up, Lieutenant Gross firing his pistol.  Jerry soon had enough and the collection of PWs grew.

The Eighth Division was again spearheading the entire assault.  The doughboys marched until exhausted, then marched on and on, Displacements were still two a day.  The air section was now to prove itself again.  Lieutenant Jennings and Lieutenant Dumas spotted a hundred vehicle Kraut convey.  What a field day that was!  Dumas was so excited that he called back over the radio, ‘Oh my God! it’s murder!  Give me more fire!  Kill the bastards!’’ and Gunshot poured on the coal.  Very few of those trucks got away.  The very next day Lieutenant Makuch and Lieutenant Miller caught another column -- an enemy artillery battery!  Gunshot on the way! And it was blown to hell.  Then Jennings and Dumas - it was a double play -- caught a gasoline convoy and calm Jennings was on the verge of hysterics.  Everyone had more fun than baiting the First Sergeant.

Gunshot -- on the way! Was echoed for the last time in the Ruhr Pocket on the 16th of April.  The Boche were surrendering in droves.  The great battle of the Ruhr Pocket was over.  The Eighth Division had played the leading role.  It led all other divisions, split the pocket in two, and captured a large percentage of the prisoners taken.  All ranks, tried but flushed with victory, cleaned their lugers, P38s, Mausers and what not, traded cameras around, and waited for the next round.

The battle was over, but the work was not.  The great industrial area of the Ruhr lay helpless.  The Division was called upon to govern a large segment.  Gunshot was ordered to assist, and was given an area surrounding the City of Lennep.  The Battalion moved at once arriving there on the 21st of April.

Every battery now had its own little kingdom to govern.  Major Hughes had about fifteen thousand Poles, Russians, Frenchmen, Belgians and Italians - the displaced persons -- to care for.  He loved it.  Lieutenant Gross was the great industrialist -- his job was utilities.  All ranks were sleeping in beds -- oh mother! and feeling their oats.  The men were proud of themselves and their units.  The best looking solders ever seen in these parts were the men on patrol duty -- neat, clean, and shined like a mirror.  Private Dyal had a slight misfortune -- he walked into an elevator shaft.  He wasn’t accustomed to such things.

But this sort of thing didn’t last long.  On the 28th of April Gunshot was on the road again, heading northeast to join the British Second Army and take part in the battles of Northern Germany.  Gunshot closed into its assembly area in the British sector on the 29th of April.  The march was uneventful due to the fine work of the Battalion Motor Section.  The weather was cold and wet, as usual.  The situation looked good.  German resistance was on its last legs and the Division prepared for its last fight. It came the 2nd of May and even with 25 mile jumps, the Battalion couldn’t keep up to the infantry.  Schwerin fell, and the Division’s objectives were reached.  The Boche prisoners were cluttering up the roads so much that Gunshot had a rough time to get to its position area at Gorries.  At 1500 hours, May 3, 1945, the Russians were contacted.  With the British to the North and west, Americans to the South and the Russians to the East, the war was over for the Eighth Division and the 28th Field Artillery.  GUNSHOT - ON THE WAY! Would sound no more in Europe.