Greatest Generation-Part 2

Even as an old Baby Boomer, I am a big fan of data and analytics. I am thrilled when my favorite NFL team, the Cincinnati Bengals, is playing on NBC Sunday night football and have a fourth down and less than 1 for a first down near the 50-yard line and Chris Collingsworth reports that the analytics say go for it. I know it’s time for Joe Borrow to cross up the opposing defense by throwing a dime to either Jamar Chase or Tee Higgins for a chunk play instead of handing the ball off to Chase Brown as the defense expected. But sometimes it may be better not to know the analytics as when my wife Cathy undertook a very aggressive chemotherapy regimen for breast cancer in 2022 only to find out after the successful course of treatment concluded that only 50% of women who undertook this type of treatment were able to complete it.

 In other cases, it makes sense to depart from a standard approach when the facts on the ground demand it. Such was the case with my father, First Sargent Morris A. Wilson, and his Third Infantry company in the Ardennes Counteroffensive (a/k/a Battle of the Bulge) undertaken by Germany from December 16, 1944-January 25, 1945. This was the deadliest battle for American forces in WWII with 19,000 killed, 47,500 wounded, and 23,000 missing or captured.

  My father’s company was essentially pinned down and surrounded by German soldiers near Bastogne, Belgium in southern Belgium’s Wallonia region. The German soldiers were relatively secure in a wooded area while my father’s company was uncomfortably exposed. The weather conditions were incredibly harsh with snow and ice and the temperature well below freezing. As for food, just dig in and eat the “delicious” crackers and onions previously discarded by the German soldiers! For fresh water, just grab a handful of snow! My father’s ears were so badly frost-bitten that they were permanently red and always pealed and bled when exposed to the hot summer sun. His right shoulder was permanently damaged from the constant recoiling of his carbine rifle. His feet were also permanently damaged from the constant multi-mile marches with worn-out boots and rough terrain.

I once asked him if he ever killed a German soldier. He said he had no idea. I am convinced his bronze medal for bravery and marksmanship medals told a different story. Although he taught me how to ably shoot a rifle and shotgun and hunt small game on the farm, he had little interest himself in guns or camping. Wonder why?

 My father’s company had suffered heavy casualties in the battle, and their situation was not good. A young Lieutenant relatively new to the company was convinced that Army protocol called for an advance against the German soldiers who were in a far more secure position positioned in the wooded area. My father was convinced that this approach was a suicide mission and made this clear to the Lieutenant in words the Lieutenant could easily understand. I am not sure what went through the mind of the Lieutenant at this point, but he reconsidered his order and cancelled the advance. Perhaps he viewed my father in the same way I did on those relatively few occasions when he was visibly upset---fear and healthy respect! In any event, the stalemate continued for at least the next day or two until my father heard in the distance what he said was one of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard. It was the roaring sound of American Army tanks headed to the front. When the tanks arrived, my father was given the opportunity to guide the tank operators’ fire against the German soldiers located in the woods. The American tanks did their job in spades with German soldiers running from the wooded area hands in the air, exclaiming in English, “Comrades, Comrades we surrender.”

This specific battle ended favorably for my father’s company as did the entire Battle of the Bulge for America and its allies along with the overall war in Europe culminating with Germany’s surrender in May 1945. With that said, is there something to be learned here? Absolutely!  First, superior training and preparation for any job or mission is always critical. My father was confident that the aggressive and at times harsh basic training he received in the hot Louisiana sun and intense humidity hardened him physically and mentally and prepared him for the brutal conditions he endured near Bastogne and ultimately saved his life. Second, never settle and acquiesce to a plan in any discipline that you are convinced will end in failure and result in deleterious consequences for others. My father was battle wise and understood the combat facts on the ground far better than the young Lieutenant and would have been derelict in his duty not to speak up and provide the benefit of his counsel to the Lieutenant. Finally, as a Christian man and follower of Jesus Christ, my father was convinced that his survival was a measure of God’s grace that he had no claim or entitlement to but was something for which he would always be grateful. For the rest of us, let us never forget that others paid a very heavy price to defeat tyranny and defend freedom which makes possible the lives and livelihoods we enjoy today and far often take for granted.

God bless you and thank you for the privilege of your time in reading my blog!

First Sargent Morris A. Wilson Third Infantry U.S. Army Circa 1943