MEN IN THE SNOW 77 YEARS AGO

MEN IN THE SNOW 77 YEARS AGO


The trooper was placed with his buddy on a small finger of the ridge overlooking the Salm River. The squad leader told him to watch the front and engage any attempt to cross the river. He indicated in a shaky hand positions to the right and left for the rest of the squad.

These were hidden from sight and necessarily taken on faith. It was approximately 1600 just before Christmas.  

The pair, with studied experience, began to clear their position. They knew it would have to be completed quickly before darkness shrouded the entire area. The snow as more than three feet deep and coated with a thin ice sheet from earlier thaw and freeze periods. The result was that it took repeated blows from the E tool to crack the shield and then to clear the underlayer of packed snow until ground was reached.

They outlined an L shaped position with the short side overlooking the open ground. The long side was abutting a large fir tree which provided considerable camouflage to the position and an indiscernible degree of warmth. They knew that any artillery burst would spread out rather than down. It was two degrees above zero and dead still. The impossible cold was like a shroud blanketing every attempt to diminish its effect.

The work of the two raised a momentary sweat which was immediately frozen on the skin surface. Small rivulets of steam coursed above them, quickly frozen and dissipated in the frigid air. Eyes constantly watered and the tears flowed to the fatigue shirt and promptly froze. The effect was a constant residue of frozen streaks which would detach from the cloth with every swing of the E tool. The eyelids were tinged with rhyme which constantly irritated the eyes. Within a short time, both looked like bleary drunks.

They went about their work without speaking. That would have been a difficult task at best. The cold had frozen their cheeks, swollen their lips and held their tongues in place. Saliva was a slim commodity and not to be wasted. Their experience, combined with silent eye gestures and motions, efficiently separated their tasks as they went about them with considerable haste.

Soon, the position was outlined. The snow mantle to the front was untouched as an act of camouflage, but carefully cleared from the position and placed to the rear. The ground, now exposed, was rock hard and frozen. Repeated blows from the angled E tool and pick produced small frozen clods with only minimal depth. These were placed in a small pile to the rear, later to be spread across the roof cover.

While one dug, the other slogged his way through the hip deep snow and collected whatever limbs or wood was available to their rear. He brought back several wooden fence posts. These he augmented with short cut fir boughs he collected from trees to the reverse slope. They could hear similar work to their left and right but could not see their complementary positions. Any association would be on faith.  

After an hour’s time, the small position was reasonably finished. They had, together, chipped and shattered the dirt to where it was no longer frozen and managed to create a trench about four feet deep. The entrance, less than two feet on the long side, was about five feet deep. They placed the fence posts across the openings and interlaced stripped fir limbs until a reasonable roof was established.

They then took fir boughs and placed them on top until the limbs were hidden. On top of this was placed the dirt spoil. Snow, collected from the rear, was packed on top and beaten with the E tools into a tight blanket about a foot thick. This entire effort was done wordlessly with only gestures and independent movements indicating a task or intention.

Satisfied with the work, they took their weapons and small personal items, slipped through the opening and began their night. It was now pitch dark and the cold, now energized by the lack of exercise, began to take effect.

In the bottom of the position, the two faced each other and interlaced their legs. Between them, they placed a steel helmet and put a small collection of precious dry twigs and the trimmings from the fir tree. This was lit and produced a small but effective ring of warmth. Two pairs of red, cracked hands were held next to the rim of the helmet to absorb the limited heat. 

Their feet, encased in the standard issue leather boot, had long lost any feeling. Each would occasionally wiggle toes, but with only minimal reward. Later, in the position, they would rub their feet and add as many pairs of socks as the boot size would permit. Usually, there would be no real feeling of movement with the legs acting more or less like pillars absent a discernible foundation.

They both smoked cigarettes which hung on their lips in a demonstration of gravitational exceptionalism. The cold collected the smoke in a cloud above them enshrouding the pair. They grunted briefly to each other to establish their watch schedule. Night would be a long affair and sleep an unlikely proposition.

One took his position at the small opening overlooking the river and attempted to discern what previously had been so clear. Now, all he could detect was the sound of the rushing waters and the stabs of moonlight that streaked and stroked the bank of snow and forest to his front.

The other collected himself in a fetal position. He had placed his canvas musette bag underneath him and then his poncho. This he covered with a portion of his blanket anchored by his body. The remainder of the blanket he tightly wrapped over his head and curled body. He smoked his cigarette under the cover imagining that the effort would have a warming effect.  

To the front, his buddy heard a change of pitch on the river’s tone and alerted to it. By now, he and his companions had all developed a preternatural ability to discern the subtleties and nuances of human activity on nature.

He placed his hands on top his Garand, raised his head and shoulders out of the position and looked anxiously to his left and right to the extent of his vision.

It was midnight of the Christmas week. They were about to be very busy.

Michael Morano

Married to a gem. Proud father. Retired with dogs and books. Westfield, NJ and Boothbay Harbor, ME

4 年

Wonderful reading, Keith. Will you piece these together into a book?

回复
Richard Groves

QMS | CAPA Management and coaching | Internal and Supplier Auditor | Remediation Project Manager | 503b Quality oversite | Perform and write GMP and GLP investigations.

4 年

Great article Keith My Grandfather made it as far as Malmady before being order out.

Joe Harris

Writer, Author, Silversmith

4 年

Duty

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