Sherman's Lagoon
We give a seemingly impossible challenge the old college try
Ron Ammons has been posting the compelling World War II memoir of his father, Pfc. Jack Ammons, in serial form on Facebook. I’ve missed a couple of segments but some of the best books on the war I’ve read are individual memoirs, and Jack’s is among the best.
A few days ago Ron posted a photo of a tank crossing a river, with the following excerpt from his father’s memoir. (The link is to the Facebook post and the fortysomething comments that follow.)
Ron Ammons
Pfc. Ammons and "Charley" cross the Werra River, 79 years ago today (part 2) . . .
"There was one obstacle that beset us. That’s right, the river. The lead tank captain came to our side of the offensive stopping stream and scoured the situation. Then he said, “I’m willing to take a crack at getting a tank over.”
A monstrous Nazi Tiger was laying in the middle of the river, lost to the German Army. It was probably that this Tiger had arrived at the bridge too late to make the bridge crossing and obviously the crew tried to make the river, but failed. If we should do this same thing and fail, it would be left solely to us of the infantry to capture the town to the east.
The entire Company was aware of our dilemma. Some must have prayed. Others half raised themselves from the ground to get a glimpse of the tank as it crawled from the road down to the river’s edge. Then we all held our breath as the heavy war machine churned into the water. Every inch was one of misery. Would it bog down; or get stuck; conk out, or would it make it? As it neared the center of the swift stream, it shifted and growled, slowly passing the dead German tank to its left. The water was above the tank’s track and a deeper section might have been encountered.
Then we could see it throbbing into shallower water, the barrier was almost passed. Oh, don’t let anything happen now, we all must have thought. That tank was a symbol of us in the form of armor. He held our lives in his hands.
The tank Commander knew it and his every effort was for us and the day’s outcome. He didn’t have to risk his tank if he hadn’t wanted to. Oh, what a lovely sight it was to see him making his way up the steep edge of our bank.
At no other time have I seen “Charley” or any other company cheer a tank, and they did plenty for us and themselves. But when that pile of steel crawled up beside us, a resounding, “Yeah!” filled those bullet-ridden German skies. The tanker couldn’t help but feel a little proud of his deed, and we couldn’t help but love him for it.
With him having gotten his tank over to us, it was less of a chance for the accompanying one to repeat. This it did, while the first lambasted the trestle full of Krauts. Because of our daring and wonderful tanks, we escaped with only one dead. That was too much. The town was ours so we pushed the civilians into certain houses and shacked up for the night."
Aaron Elson: Do you know which company of the 712th Tank Battalion that was?
Ron Ammons: “I cannot say for sure, Aaron. Any idea? I'd love to know the commander's name. Probably lost to history.
Kaye Ackermann: Ron, can you tell me what specific day this happened? I'd really like to know which tank commander it was. [Kaye’s father, Rolland Ackermann, was a tank commander in the 712th.]
Ron Ammons: April 2, I believe.
Now I was off to the races, with virtually no hope of success, I mean how the heck am I going to identify a tanker crossing a river nearly 80 years after the fact, but since when did that stop me? I figured I’d at least give it the old college try.
April 3, 1945, was the date of the explosion in Heimboldshausen, and Heimboldshausen was on the west bank of the Werra River. A Company’s headquarters and service personnel were in Heimboldshausen, and its line platoons had left the village to engage some stubborn SS troops, so my initial guess was that this was an A Company tank.
The string of comments on Ron’s post veered off into a discussion between I and Kaye with a little confusion on my part over the name of an A Company tanker. Kaye “adopted” the grave of Clarence Eckerd, who was killed at Heimboldshausen and whose remains were repatriated to a cemetery in North Carolina. In my book Tanks for the Memories I have some diary excerpts from Philip Eckhardt, who survived the war. Also, Kaye knew Eckerd as Clarence Eckerd and I knew of him as Wilson Eckerd. Find-a-Grave cleared that up, as he is listed as Wilson Clarence Eckerd.]
But I digress. There were four tank companies in the 712th, each, at full strength, with three platoons of five tanks apiece. A, B and C had so-called “medium” Sherman tanks which were between 33 and 45 tons. D Company had 17.5 ton “light” Stuart tanks. So we can eliminate D Company.
Now, from the After Action Reports:
Company A
On 2 April, after the 11th Armored had cleared the roads and pushed out in task forces, the tank platoons pushed to new objectives with Battalions of the 358th Infantry [Jack Ammons’ Charley Company was in the 357th Regiment] over secondary roads and trails; they cleaned out areas between 4th Armored and 11th Armored Divisions. Enemy resistance was light to scattered in spots. Quite a few prisoners processed by the 358 Infantry. 1st platoon at Motzfeld. 2nd Platoon at Wolfershausen. 3rd platoon at Ransbach.
Company B
2 April (Niarkerhausen): Company still resting and performing maintenance. The 4th AD [Armored Division] not moving at all. Infantry has not as yet made a bridge across the river. Hot food served the platoons. Company Commander up to see the platoons.
This cleared A and B Companies, so let’s see what the reports say about C.
Company C
On April 2, Second Platoon left Kurpis on column march at 0745, passing through Ober Haun at 0830 and Unter Haun shortly afterward; turned right, just short of Hersfeld, passed through Sorga at 0900, then Friedewald at 1000, Honebach, and Kleinensee shortly afterward, arriving in Dankmarshausen at noon, where they took up position and assisted in the bombardment of the town of Dippach, across the river. At 1730 they forded the Werra where the bridges had been blown, losing some loose equipment from the tanks in the deep swift current.
Holy Cow! So I was wrong about A Company and the heroic tank was from Second Patoon, Company C, 712th Tank Battalion. Now all I had to do was figure out who their platoon leader was, and I could venture an educated guess.
Here’s some more from the After Action Report:
They crossed the flat approaching Dippach in sections of two tanks each, with infantry fanned out across the flat, using machine gun and marching fire from all arms. At the edge of town, one section turned right under cover of the railway embankment to the upper underpass. They reduced the roadblocks in the underpasses by direct fire and by running over them, and one section went through each underpass into town at 1830. The town was shortly cleared, and the Platoon remained there for the night. Additional fireworks were furnished by a burning ammo train on the tracks to the left of town. An infantryman, pinch-hitting as bog in the No. 1 tank, gave an excellent account of himself.
The second platoon was involved in the March 16 battle at Pfaffenheck, in which Pfc. Billy Wolfe and three other members of the platoon were killed and three tanks were lost. I knew their lieutenant at that time was Francis “Snuffy” Fuller. I interviewed Fuller in 1994 — that’s thirty years ago! — but didn’t remember him saying anything about crossing a river other than the Moselle and the Rhine. The Werra was east of the Rhine; in fact, it was on what after the war would become the dividing line between East and West Germany
By this point I had already made an educated guess that Fuller was the tank commander in the picture, but that’s all it was, an educated guess, and I was ready to say at least I gave it the old college try. I wondered if there might be some corroboration in my interview.
And then I found this:
Some towns you had to shoot up, and some you didn't. Some you could walk right in. There was one place, Ditvak [Dippach?], they've got the writeup in the book there, we came to this little, it looked like a stream, it's called the Oure River or something, anyway, the bridge was out, and right where the bridge was there was a little German tank in the bed of the creek, well, it's called a river. And we're wondering how we're gonna get across, and the brass all come up there and they're standing around.
Finally, I said, "Well, let's take a chance," so we unloaded all the guys off the tank, the infantry and my crew, and just myself and my driver, we tried to ford this little river. And we made it all right, got on the other side, then got the other tanks across. And we got over there, and this wide, big field before this town. So we go in line formation, you know, spread out. And got in this town and we had no problem at all, it might have been a few shots. But in the book, it said it was a classic formation, they took the town, a lot of bullshit. Some of it's bullshit and some of it's true. I don't remember shooting the town at all, it was a big town, but we had no problem.
I do remember ordering the tanks in line formation as we got across this little river. And then further on in the book it says A Company couldn't get across the same river, so they went and came across where we did.
“The book” Fuller refers to is “Well Done,” the unit history of the 712th Tank Battalion, written right after the war. I only have a beat-up third printing copy, but sure enough, I found the passage. “C Co. probed a weak spot and forded across with 357 on 2 Apr.”
In the Facebook comments, Ron Ammons noted:
After 80 years, it fits together like a puzzle! Interesting, the difference in perception between infantry and armor. A "little tank" in the river. Dad said it was a Tiger. Also interesting that the first American tank to cross was only crewed by two men, in case they didn't make it, obviously. Fuller deserved a medal for this action, in my opinion.
Fuller did get a Silver Star, but didn’t say in the interview what it was for. He also got a Purple Heart, for which I found some corroboration in the After Action Report. On April 5, the report noted, Lieutenant Fuller returned to the aid station for treatment of a wound that was infected. He received the wound when his tank was hit at Vitzerrode — on April 3, a day after crossing the Werra River!
Audio: Otha Martin on how Lieutenant Fuller got the nickname Snuffy:
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