The story of the 4th German High Mountain Battalion and its clash with the US 10th Mountain Division in February 1945 in Italy.

During World War II, the German army activated four high mountain infantry battalions that were to operate as independent units.
The first two, composed of experienced volunteers from other mountain regiments, were formed in April 1942. Most of the men came from the mountainous regions of Bavaria and Austria, and many non-commissioned officers and officers had participated in various expeditions to the Himalayas and the Caucasus before the outbreak of war. Both were sent to the southern sector of the Russian front on August 8, 1942.

Unlike the first two battalions, the 4th High Mountain Battalion was not composed of volunteers, and the men were young, many of them with only recent mountain experience. The combination of these young men and the few 'old troops' had to compensate for the lack of specific training in rock and ice climbing. Moreover, it was the end of 1943, and volunteers, especially for special units, had become a rare breed. Those who still stepped forward when the call to arms came were considered by their comrades to be "out of their minds."
There had not been much time to get to know each other better, much less for training, and then we find these men, a "healthy mix" of battle-hardened soldiers and inexperienced ones, scrutinizing each other as they travel south in cattle cars.
The "old" soldiers without decorations were not highly regarded in the opinion of the young men, who paid little attention to them and even considered them cowards or "rear echelon types" with no combat experience. An Assault badge, a 2nd Class Iron Cross, or especially a^1stClass Iron Cross, ensured instant respect for the wearer.
This was the dream of the young boys, or better still, a few "Tank Destroyer" ribbons on their sleeves. The older boys just looked at them silently, without wasting their breath. Too often they had seen the less deserving decorated, and these young men had no idea what was in store for them and how badly they would be mistreated.
Even the "old-timers" were unable to perceive the full extent of the leadership's dishonesty in its dealings with the common soldier, but they continued to watch cautiously as the campaigns unfolded. After all, the new units had been given only a few symbolic rifles before their departure, and no one could imagine what the outcome would be if the Italian partisans decided to ambush this "club outing."

The situation in Italy had changed overnight, starting in early July 1943 with the Allied landing in Sicily. The arrival of the 4th Battalion was now eagerly awaited to reinforce the front.
As soon as they arrived in Abruzzo, the units received the necessary weapons and equipment and were assigned front-line positions in the Orsogna sector, between the Adriatic coast and the Maiella mountains. Strong British attacks were repelled and the battalion suffered its first casualties.
The battalion's combat units spent Christmas and New Year's Eve 1943-1944 in the Maiella mountains, enduring the worst snowstorms.

The 3rd and 4th Companies suffered heavy losses defending their positions between Orsogna and Guardiagrele from enemy assaults, while the 2nd Company was temporarily assigned to the 26th Panzer Division. The company command post, including the 3rd Platoon, was attacked by fighter bombers on December 18, 1943. Four soldiers were killed and 12 wounded, two of whom lost both legs.
On December 30, the effective fighting force of the 4th High Mountain Infantry Battalion consisted of: 14 officers, 102 non-commissioned officers, and 595 men armed with 49 light and 8 heavy machine guns, 15 medium mortars, and 7 75mm howitzers.
From January 20 to 25, the 1st and 3rd Companies repelled numerous enemy assaults in the Guardiagrele/Pennapiedimonte sector.

Meanwhile, US, French, and other Allied troops had managed to breach some of the strong German defensive positions in the Cassino sector. One of the German countermeasures was to transfer the 4th High Mountain Battalion from its positions on the eastern side of the "boot" to Cassino. Only the 1st Company and the battalion's artillery remained in the Maiella mountains until April 20, 1944. On January 7, 1944, most of the battalion began moving to new defensive positions that stretched across a range of altitudes from 600 to 950 meters above sea level, from the base of Monte Cairo (1668 meters above sea level) through the hills at the foot of Monte Cassino (516 meters above sea level). These blood-soaked hills had been violently contested in previous battles.
There were many trenches available, and the teams kept busy digging holes and building shelters since, as soon as they entered the positions, they found them inadequate and primitive. The dense woods provided excellent cover on one side but, at the same time, limited visibility. This could have allowed the enemy to launch a surprise attack from any direction, and extreme vigilance was therefore necessary at all times.

The first battle, between the 4th High Mountain Infantry Battalion and American soldiers of the 3rd Regiment of the 34th Infantry Division, took place on February 4, 1944, for possession of Hill 706 and Monte Castellone; the battle was even mentioned in the daily communiqué of the German Supreme Allied Command. The outcome of the fighting was considered a draw, although the 4th Battalion failed to achieve its two objectives. Both sides suffered significant losses: the 4th Company of the 4th Battalion lost 7 dead and 17 wounded.

The German paratroopers entered the battle at the same time, taking the infamous Monte Calvario in a lightning attack, in the immediate vicinity of the monastery, which was subsequently transformed into one of the bloodiest battlefields of World War II. Monte Calvario was also the meeting point between the 4th Battalion and the paratroopers. Both units had been united in a task force, and each side had complete confidence in the reliability of the other.
The paratroopers were very confident, considering themselves members of an elite group, and this was indeed true.
In a letter to Churchill on March 20, General Alexander, the commander-in-chief of the Allied forces in Italy, stated: "I doubt that there is another corps of troops on earth that would be able to endure this and then continue to fight with the same stubbornness as these men."

While very cordial relations were maintained between mountain soldiers and paratroopers, both detested and avoided members of the SS because of their arrogant and haughty demeanor, even though they had never backed a single decisive and victorious operation during the entire war.
They were Himmler's "darlings" and the pride and joy of the Führer, but their brutal measures in the occupied territories only increased the activity of the partisans.
It may be noteworthy that the author himself witnessed the scene of an elderly non-commissioned officer, with a drawn pistol, evicting an SS officer from a building, while two dozen paratroopers and mountain soldiers enjoyed the spectacle immensely.

While both sides suffered terrible losses during the battle for Monte Cassino and the adjacent heights, the German defensive lines held against all Allied attacks until the French Goumiers, on May 11/12, managed to break through, threatening the German lines from the rear. This forced the task force composed of the 4th Battalion and elements of the 1st Parachute Division, commanded by Major von Ruffin, to retreat during the night of May 24/25. The 4th Battalion, fighting a rearguard action, suffered heavy losses during this maneuver.
Numerous attempts were made during the confusion of the disengagement to break through the line of junction with the battalion from the 1st Parachute Division, with the latter strenuously opposing such a move. However, the increase in casualties during the incessant fighting weakened the effectiveness of the 4th Battalion, which was withdrawn from the line, reassembled in Bologna, and transported to the area around Albenga, on the Ligurian Sea coast, where the units received the necessary replacements.
The original experienced officers had now been reduced to an alarming number, and among the new recruits were some senior non-commissioned officers, superficial "bookworms" with plenty of barracks life but no combat experience. Due to the growing labor shortage, the ranking for their use had finally caught up with them, but while they were still at a safe distance from the front ( ), they did not miss the opportunity to apply their offensive and humiliating training methods to the green replacements and even to the older and more experienced men. As senior non-commissioned officers with many years of service, they enjoyed the unquestioning support of the junior officers, who were inexperienced and had just graduated from Officer Candidate School. In the course of subsequent clashes, however, these men often proved to be a great failure in dealing with the enlisted men entrusted to their leadership. More on this subject later.

Seventy HiWis were assigned to the 2nd Company at that time (authors' note: a HiWi-HilfsWilliger was a former Russian prisoner of war "willing to help" the German war effort who had volunteered for service with the German army in order to escape starvation in the prison camps. Some of them, however, may have acted out of conviction after having served innocently in Stalin's Siberian labor camps, but due to the language barrier, few German soldiers had become familiar with them.
Furthermore, as mentioned above, this was another of those topics not to be discussed. Officially, a major effort was made to "retrain" these Russians to respond to German military routine, but this was obviously a futile exercise from the outset because one of the basic requirements, trust, was non-existent in these individuals. Their actual involvement in front-line combat was rare.

In order to carry out some missions aimed at suppressing partisan activities, the 4th High Mountain Infantry Battalion was deployed to the Italian-French border region of the Western Alps but returned to the Apennine Mountains on November 5, 1944, occupying positions on the Abetone Pass in the Pievepelago area. The 2nd Company was ordered to establish advanced defensive positions across the field on Monte La Serra and inside Pianosinatico. It was this company that subsequently bore the brunt of the battalion's clashes with all three regiments of the American 10th Mountain Division.

The period prior to the arrival of the 10th Mountain Division
When the men of the 4th Battalion left their mountain positions in the Alps in mid-November, it was snowing heavily and some men were lost in avalanches. The Abetone Pass, however, welcomed them with the mild climate of late autumn.
It was a clear night with countless twinkling and sparkling stars. The men of the 2nd Company were tired after struggling uphill towards the Abetone Pass, dragging themselves side by side in their heavy, studded mountain boots, instead of putting one foot in front of the other energetically. A few houses, dimly lit by the moon, appeared out of the darkness, but they had not yet reached their destination and continued silently through the village.
A figure appeared, standing by the roadside, and as they approached, it turned out to be a Sergeant Major, but since he was wearing boots instead of the familiar mountain boots, he might not have been "one of us" but just a normal "man of the plains" or, vulgarly, a "Schniggel." [Bavarian slang meaning a man of the infantry, much like 'Tommy' for the British]. Suddenly, he said in an unmistakable Prussian dialect, "Hello comrades, who does your pitiful equipment belong to?" Nothing but silence followed, but soon a proud voice replied fiercely, "Us? We're with the 4th Battalion of the Bird." Everyone was speechless, barely able to keep from laughing out loud. The Prussian, initially stunned, finally replied, "What are you talking about? I've never heard of them." The same proud voice came out of the darkness again, "Well, let me tell you, we're a very special group." And loud laughter immediately swept away all fatigue. (Author's note: the soldiers of the 4th Battalion, in recognition of their valor and achievements, had been granted the privilege of adding a silver Eagle Head badge to the Edelweiss insignia on their caps).

The next day, the 2nd Company moved to its new positions in Pianosinatico and on Monte La Serra. The company's mission was to establish an outpost with a defensive perimeter in all directions 4 km in front of the battalion's main line of defense. The company CP was located in Pianosinatico, along the Passo dell'Abetone road and not visible from Monte La Serra. The terrain was densely wooded, and in the distance, the village of San Marcello was visible on the opposite side of the valley. Enemy troops were presumed to maintain a strong presence there, but their actual position was still unknown.
Occasionally, enemy artillery barrage fire passed over our heads towards Passo dell'Abetone, but the sector remained quiet. It was said that the Canadians were in front of us, and when a group of scouts found a building occupied by British troops, an assault platoon commanded by 'Cesare' (our nickname for the uncompromisingly strict platoon commander) was sent in.
The house was taken after a fierce battle with the British, who put up strong resistance, suffering four dead and 14 prisoners, while "Cesare" crouched safely behind a large rock throughout the entire battle. Ironically, it was he who was awarded the Iron Cross 1st Class for bravery in action, but all the men could do was grind their teeth in anger. "Cesare" was the commander's favorite. This officer was known to be a high-ranking official in the Hitler Youth and had graduated from a prominent Nazi leadership academy. Cesare, on the other hand, had always managed to successfully and completely evade the issue of political loyalty.
Since the 2nd Company had only one officer and, besides himself, four other non-commissioned officers (the others had been killed, hospitalized, or had somehow requested a reassignment), "Caesar" grabbed the second most influential position in the unit's chain of command. It was because of this shortage of non-commissioned officers that a leadership training program was initiated while the battalion was still in the Western Alps. The trainees were simply ordered to participate without first asking for their consent. The result was that, almost without exception, the first corporals, most of them with several years of service, ended up taking over as squad leaders. This left "Cesare" in his privileged position, as German corporals, first corporals, and staff corporals did not enjoy the status of non-commissioned officers and were unable to question the conduct of a senior non-commissioned officer. In reality, at that point, it no longer mattered because for several years these experienced hands had been well aware of the German army's improprieties and abuses and had concluded that there was nothing to be done about it.

The German armed forces' illusion that they could maintain a non-political army organization, immune to the interference of the Nazi Party, ended definitively on July 20, 1944. On that date, everyone was shocked by the reality when the traditional military salute was replaced by the Nazi version. People who have never experienced dictatorship cannot imagine what this form of government is capable of doing.

Two different worlds
It was late autumn in the Monte La Serra and Pianosinatico area. The Command Company called the leader of the 1st team, 2nd Platoon, and issued the following orders:
1. Take your men (six) and two sharpshooters and deploy them just above the road junction at Ponte al Sestaione.
2. From these positions, the sharpshooters must eliminate the enemy sentries; you must withdraw immediately after this has been accomplished.
3. Under no circumstances are you to allow yourself to be drawn into a firefight with the enemy.
I expect a report from you upon your return.
The team proceeded carefully, according to orders, toward its objective. The advance scout had provided accurate information on the enemy's position and emplacements, and the dense chestnut forest provided excellent cover for the team's advance. Shortly before reaching the designated area, the team commander ordered his men to halt and personally assigned each individual a position and field of fire, including a sentry to cover a fork in the trail at the rear. He then proceeded with two sharpshooters down a steep gully, at the bottom of which they took up positions well apart from each other. The team leader had used binoculars ("borrowed" because such precision equipment had become a scarcity) captured from the British during the recent skirmish and was quietly scanning the surrounding landscape and enemy sentry positions.
After the sudden crack of a rifle shot, he noticed that a sentry, who had been leaning against a tree a little higher up in the Sestaione valley, had collapsed to the ground. A long silence followed. Then a jeep appeared at a fairly fast pace from behind a bend in the road, turned at the crossroads, and stopped in front of the entrance to a larger building. As soon as the driver got out of the vehicle, he was shot by the second sharpshooter and, as if struck by lightning, collapsed on the sidewalk. Then silence again, not even the chirping of a bird.
As the team leader continued to scan the ground with his binoculars, a woman, dressed in black and carrying a basket for collecting chestnuts, appeared about 60 meters away. She noticed the German, turned around, and disappeared at a run. Another period of quiet ensued until a group of 30 or 40 British soldiers emerged from the edge of the woods below, led by the woman in black, who was still carrying her basket. It was time to leave! The two sharpshooters also hurried back, puffing and panting from the effort and pointing out hostile teams approaching from different directions. The three men crossed a small clearing and, climbing back up the gully, rejoined the rest of the group. At that moment, it was unclear how close the enemy was and from which direction they were most threatened, but the sentry covering the fork in the path was reinforced by another member of the team and the two sharpshooters, because the other path at the fork led towards enemy lines. In a further attempt to find out where to expect the British, the team leader sent two comrades, a veteran and a young soldier, on a reconnaissance mission down the small precipice. Knowing that this was a very risky undertaking in these circumstances, he urged them to look around carefully and positioned himself near his machine gunner.
The two scouts descended as ordered, reached their destination, and took up their positions. Contrary to their instructions, they suddenly turned right, moving along an easy path through the woods, their rifles slung over their shoulders, thumbs under the straps, just as "the book" says, without ever looking left or right, but only straight ahead. No wonder they didn't notice a group of British soldiers in their steel helmets who appeared at that moment about ten paces to their left and who were apparently so surprised by what they saw that they almost literally froze. However, the two German scouts noticed nothing as they passed right under the noses of those they had been sent to locate. Meanwhile, the British had knelt down and somehow hidden themselves, but they did not have their weapons ready, while our frustrated team leader, standing behind a large tree, was watching the spectacle. Simply calling out to his men was, of course, out of the question, as it would alert the enemy to his team's presence. Instead, he tried to draw the attention of his two bumbling heroes to the lurking danger by making loud hissing sounds. All to no avail, until finally they stopped dead in their tracks and pointed excitedly ahead as they looked back in his direction. Agitated as he was, the urgency to call them back was unmistakable, and they hurried back, retracing their steps past the British, who were still miraculously inactive, again without noticing them, and up the rocks, cutting across the hillside until, breathing heavily, they reached him, ready to report their observations. However, he did not bother to listen to them and sent them back to the others.
At the outset, he had given explicit instructions to his team not to open fire without his direct orders. Now the enemy was huddled in the grass of the small clearing below, unaware that they were offering an easy target, inviting a horrific bloodbath. The machine gunner and the other men were itching to fire, but the order to open fire did not come. The squad leader had judged their opponents to be inexperienced and decided that "since the British soldiers did not harm my comrades, I will spare them in return" and, unnoticed, withdrew his group. Subsequently, a barrage of mortar shells fell on their now empty positions, but they were well out of danger.
On their way back to their own lines, they passed a seemingly deserted farmhouse where they spotted two sheep grazing. Surprised and tired of "canned beef," everyone's reaction was "FRESH MEAT!" The machine gun put an end to the animals' misery, and the men dragged them "home." After reaching their perimeter, they found the entire company swarming with activity. The shots had been fired outside the perimeter! Everyone was ready for action. Where was the enemy coming from? It had been nothing more than the death of two ordinary sheep.
The squad leader reported to the commander and gave an account of the mission.
The "Chief" had been commander of the 2nd Company at Cassino on March 3, 1944, but had been seriously wounded early on and did not return until the Battalion, after the massacre at Cassino, was relieved and transferred to Bologna. He was over 6 feet tall and six months younger than our squad leader. Committed to Nazi ideology from an early age, he was an unwavering follower of Hitler. Just like the new Battalion Commander, no one was surprised that the two got along without any problems.
Unlike the officer, the squad leader had been a member of the Boy Scouts, an organization that Hitler had outlawed immediately after coming to power. All his property was confiscated and placed under the protection of the SS. Our friend, then 15 years old, and three other Boy Scouts decided to 'liberate' at least the most valuable assets of their group and climbed a 1.8-meter fence in broad daylight, just 20 feet from the sentry. On their return from their raid, they had to pass the guard again, who was still unaware.
The Gestapo spent two weeks investigating some suspects, but the search of their homes did not lead to the recovery of all the missing items, and from then on, the friends continued their activities clandestinely. They despised the Hitler Youth, the SS, and everything else connected with the Nazi system.
Freedom was only to be found in the mountains, where they became skilled rock and ice climbers, training themselves to be superb athletes, ready to compete with
members of the Hitler Youth at any time. Many of their acquaintances among the Catholic clergy had been imprisoned or sent to concentration camps, while others were under constant surveillance by the Gestapo.
The young men had been denied admission to institutions of higher education and, although they were not yet aware of it, the security services had marked them as "politically unreliable" and began writing confidential personal files that later became part of their military service records. In addition, a secret order had been issued stating that such individuals should always be assigned to combat duty. Later, while they were on the Cassino front, a friend informed the squad leader of the existence of these files. Needless to say, the commander was certainly aware of them.
These two men, representing two different ideologies, were facing each other: one was a former leader of the Hitler Youth whose childhood friends were all, until then, steeped in Nazi spirit , while the other, as well as his closest friends, had been shaped by the Christian Boy Scout movement. But these fundamental differences were not really at issue during what subsequently changed. Or were they?

[The commander accuses the team leader of failing to machine-gun the British] "That would have meant certain death for two of our comrades," the team leader argued in his defense, but the company commander retorted angrily, "That makes no difference, because it's not your job to consider the likelihood of casualties. Part of your mission was to inflict maximum casualties on the enemy, and I am convinced that they would have lost 15-20 men." "That may be true, Lieutenant, sir," replied his subordinate, smiling slightly, "but by having my men open fire on the Canadians, I would have disobeyed your direct order, as you had given me explicit instructions not to engage in a firefight with the enemy under any circumstances."
The commander immediately dropped the subject, tacitly admitting defeat, and continued in a surprisingly cordial manner, "Tell me, would you be interested in a promotion to sergeant? I've been keeping an eye on you for a while, and I'm convinced you have what it takes to be a non-commissioned officer." Not expecting this turn in the conversation, the former Boy Scout was embarrassed and didn't have a ready answer.
Being a sergeant serving under the "greatest marshal in history" was absolutely out of the question for him. A sudden thought saved him from being caught in a mousetrap: "Sir, I'm sorry to have to report that I'm not eligible for promotion. I was court-martialed almost two years ago, and the verdict was 20 days of hard labor, with a two-year freeze on promotion. The two years have not yet passed." The commander pretended to be surprised, even though he was undoubtedly familiar with the corporal's service record, and replied, "I know nothing about this incident. Why were you punished so harshly, and where did it happen?"

And so the team leader proceeded to report how, in the Caucasus Mountains, at an altitude of over 1000 meters above sea level and during the "Great Blizzard," his then-team leader had committed a military "mortal sin." They had been manning an outpost, on a four-day rotation schedule, using a constantly dripping ice cave as their only available shelter. The team that was to relieve the previous one always had to enlarge the ice cave first, because the ice continued to build up layer upon layer until, after four days, there was only enough room for the men to crawl like badgers. The men's skin was constantly macerated and they had a field day with lice.
Occasional Russian attempts to take the German fortified positions by surprise were unsuccessful, as the attackers, despite their excellent protective clothing, froze to death on the slopes of the pass. There was really nothing to worry about in terms of successful enemy penetrations while temperatures remained extremely low and the blizzard continued to rage.
The fateful incident occurred on December 2, 1942, after the leader of the "Sch..." team was relieved from the outpost and assigned to a snow-covered log bunker that was part of the main line of defense . The good team leader decided to forego sentry duty during the night due to the abominable weather conditions. The first men were scheduled to leave at 5:00 a.m., and that morning, as they were getting ready, a loud voice was heard outside the shelter. It was the commander personally checking on the sentries, and the entrance to their shelter had almost closed up with snow, leaving just enough space for a medium-sized dog to crawl through. Our friend argued that since Sch. had been the team leader on duty, his life was not at risk. Due to the near certainty of being assigned to a penal battalion, his best friend—also a former Boy Scout—and he himself reported that they had abandoned their assigned guard posts too early, which in effect amounted to lying to their commander, a captain. And that, he concluded, was what had put them in the net for 20 days and frozen their promotion. Our squad leader, however, did not prudently mention the fact that this particular captain, who had the entire unit, including the officers, kicking in their boots, resembled in many ways his current commander, a first lieutenant.
His superior, who had listened without interruption, nodded approvingly and smiled, almost beginning to like the author. Then he asked cordially, "How long did the promotion freeze last?" "The 20-day penalty period began on December 4 and ended on December 24, 1942," was the reply, after which the commander, now grinning openly, concluded the discussion by stating, "Well, it's not long until Christmas when it will all be over." The corporal was dismissed and returned to his squad area, pondering this last remark.

The platoon leader, George, approached him a few days later and explained that the company commander expected every squad leader in the group to volunteer for an assault operation on San Marcello. Everyone else had already agreed with him that he should be the last to sign up.
After a thoughtful pause, he replied, "Tell the Old Man that I will only go ahead if I am ordered to do so. To date, I have only volunteered once, to serve in the 2nd High Mountain Battalion, and I will never volunteer for anything again." The platoon leader was shocked and, shaking his head, implored him, "But you absolutely cannot do that! HE thinks so highly of you." The corporal remained adamant. "It makes no difference how many 'points' I have with the boss, tell him what I said." The assault on San Marcello was subsequently canceled because one of the company's squad leaders had refused to "volunteer" for the mission.

The end of November was approaching; it had snowed heavily, and the 2nd Company, like the other companies in the battalion, had worked diligently to improve and winterize their positions to the best of their ability. On November 17, the 4th Company, acting as "firefighters," had to neutralize a penetration in the sector held by an infantry battalion south of Eglio. Mounting a successful counterattack on Hill 832, they were able to reestablish the original defensive line, although the price paid by , 9 dead and 40 wounded, was high. Elements of the 1st and 3rd Companies of the 4th Battalion were deployed in the immediate vicinity of the Abetone Pass road.

After enemy forces managed to penetrate the positions held by the 1044th Infantry Regiment on Mount Belvedere, the 4th Company was dispatched and managed to stabilize the line after a costly battle. With the exception of the engagements mentioned above, there were only reconnaissance and exploration missions. In short, there was not much to do; there were sporadic artillery strikes, but the positions were well camouflaged and not easily detected by the enemy's forward observers.
This lull in action apparently prompted the commander to schedule calisthenics for everyone at 7:00 a.m. sharp every morning because "the men must be kept in shape for future combat." He himself participated in the role of "coach."
The second company, in isolated forward positions, was not exempt either. The entire complement had to gather in a clearing, form a circle around the leader, and begin by doing "Arms forward, left, right; turn from the hips," etc., etc. Unfortunately, the clearing was open to enemy observation, and it wasn't long before artillery shells began to fall nearby, although a meter and a half of snow made them fairly harmless. The "coach" seemed unimpressed and continued the exercises.
Did he want to risk a direct hit? "Cesare," who was among the athletes, expected to be killed at any moment, but the rhythmic gymnastics exercises continued even as the impacts came closer and closer. Not a soul dared to take cover as long as the Old Man tirelessly directed the exercises. The enemy artillerymen, apparently realizing that the barrage, carried out even with large-caliber cannons, had not confused these Germans at all... fanatics of the sport, subsequently tried "psychological warfare" ammunition, but there had always been a strict ban on collecting, let alone reading, those propaganda leaflets, and, in this case, any attempt to take a furtive glance at them was stifled by the presence of the eagle-eyed commander.
The morning exercises scheduled in the clearing continued as usual for a number of days until the men "on the other side" grew tired of this spectacle and resorted to explosive bullets, which, from a purely athletic point of view, were considered a dirty trick. Finally, the Old Man, much to his regret, canceled the early morning physical fitness routine.

The 2nd Company was replaced during the first week of December and withdrew to Sant'Anna Pelago, on the other side of the Abetone Pass. The Battalion was issued winter field uniforms of a type never seen before. These so-called "eastern front suits" had a thick inner lining, were reversible (one side white, the other with a camouflage pattern), and were certainly not elegant, but bulky and gave the impression of clumsiness. However, they were well designed and sturdy. Skis also became available and everyone had the opportunity to use them and enjoy themselves, even if at the same time they fell for an old trick: the best skiers were chosen for a subsequent assignment in a newly formed ski platoon.

Operation Winter Storm
The carefree pre-holiday activities were interrupted by the news that, for unknown reasons, a move was planned around Christmas. Many complained bitterly about this absurdity, but it was official: the higher headquarters decreed that Christmas was to be celebrated on December 22, 1944. There was not much Christmas spirit, except that a greater quantity of the usual alcoholic beverages had been distributed and consumed, allowing the men to drown their endless silent misery in alcohol. Some of the older comrades also had some difficulty remembering where and how they had spent Christmas during the previous years of the war.
The troops were given leave, but their rest was short-lived and they were awakened with orders to prepare for departure with full packs. "With full packs?" some asked sleepily, but no one had time to listen to idle questions; everyone was in a hurry, and the company was soon ready, hitting the road at 3:30 a.m. on December 23, 1944. It was pitch dark and snowing lightly as they climbed up to the Radici Pass and down the other side into the Serchio Valley. The snow stopped at dawn when they reached some houses along the road and were ordered to take shelter inside.
They had to remain indoors during daylight hours, out of sight of hostile observers and aircraft, to keep the battalion's presence in the area secret. The men slept undisturbed until nightfall when they continued their descent into the valley. Artillery could be heard occasionally in the distance, and they continued on, passing through villages badly damaged by the war and larger bombed-out towns, where shattered walls and solitary chimneys stood silently in the ghostly moonlight. A bullet-riddled sign indicated that this had been the town of Castelnuovo.
Shortly afterwards, they left the main road and continued along a dirt track until they reached a junction with another path, where they encountered a small detachment of Italian Alpine troops wearing their distinctive hats. The encounter was fairly friendly but limited by the language barrier and the need to get back on the road, as it was essential to reach their destination before dawn.

It was still dark when they arrived at the foot of a wooded hill where they could make out a series of scattered farm buildings where they would make themselves comfortable. Once again, the order was: no lights visible from the outside, no smoking outside, no smoke from the chimneys, and no one outside during daylight hours, because the village was exposed to enemy observation, and again, it was imperative that the battalion's presence remain hidden from hostile eyes. After eating something, the officers and soldiers were allowed to settle down for a well-deserved rest, while the platoon leaders had to report to the commander.
Until that moment, since they had left Sant'Anna Pelago, the details of Operation had only been filtered down to company level, and everyone below had remained blissfully ignorant of what was going on in such secrecy. This had always been Standard Operating Procedure, and no one lost any sleep over it. Knowing what lay ahead had never made any difference anyway, since decisions were made higher up and the men were resigned to dealing with situations as they arose.
The platoon leaders returned with the following information: "The enemy, committing overwhelming forces of men and material during weeks of battle, is attempting to force the Futa Pass on the Florence-Bologna highway. German troops have suffered heavy losses and are under pressure. In order to relieve that sector of the front, a diversion, code-named Winter Thunderstorm, must be launched by a regiment-sized task force. The 4th High Mountain Infantry Battalion is assigned to lead the assault with the objective of pushing the enemy back about 15 miles. After achieving the objective, the task force is to withdraw back to the old front lines. Ahead of us, on our right, in the area of the village of Lama, are Brazilian troops reputed to be brave, but our advance is directed against elements of the 92nd American Infantry Division, a black unit. No prisoners are to be taken! Furthermore, effective immediately, all squad leaders who have completed basic leadership training will wear a silver stripe on their shoulder straps.
The men remained ominously silent for a while; the part of the briefing about not taking prisoners had not been taken too well, and the former Boy Scout, now leader of the 1st squad, in particular, had no intention of obeying this criminal order. So he asked rather innocently, "Has it ever happened to anyone that the enemy could retaliate in this way?" while at the same time compulsively sewing the silver stripes onto his shoulder straps. As expected, his comment sparked a great deal of confusion and criticism such as "Yes, it's true. An order like this has never been issued before!" were widespread, making it clear that his comrades were furious and united in their determination to disobey this directive.

This was the first time that the men of the Battalion had openly expressed their opposition to a particular order, and they were clearly prepared to ignore the wishes of their superiors. The platoon leaders therefore had no choice but to return to the Company commander to inform him of the mood of the soldiers.
The few remaining elders remembered when, in Cassino, during the fight for Hill 706, a temporary truce was organized with the Americans. It lasted from noon until 4:30 p.m., allowing both sides to take care of their dead and wounded. The then first class ensign Karl Heinz Keck (who survived the war and, at the time of writing, in September 1992, is still alive) met Colonel L. Reese of Philadelphia and two captains on the battlefield. The colonel gave his business card to the ensign, inviting him to visit the United States after the war. Doctors from both sides worked together to care for the casualties, regardless of their nationality. There was even time, although it was obviously strictly forbidden, for a little barter : American cigarettes for German decorations and insignia, with the edelweiss of the mountain soldiers being a highly coveted item. The Germans returned from this encounter with a rather favorable opinion of their American counterparts. "They are actually a nice bunch of guys, if it weren't for this... war." But at that time, a different attitude prevailed. Baron von Ruffin, much loved and respected as a humane and honorable officer, was the battalion commander, and such an order would have been absolutely unthinkable under his command.

The platoon leaders returned after some time, announcing that "it would be fair to take some prisoners." The men silently accepted this decision, their confidence in the integrity of their leadership diminishing even further. Their attention was now focused mainly on the next day's mission, which for most of them, being inexperienced replacements, would be their baptism of fire, and without being ordered to do so, all weapons were carefully checked. The more experienced "warhorses" were equally busy, but their thoughts lingered on past battles. They had fought Russians, French, British, Indians, Americans, and dry soldiers from many other nations. Black Americans would now be added to the list. How would they fight?

The company began to advance at 8:00 p.m. It was pitch dark and snowing lightly as the troops silently trudged up the slope of a densely wooded hill. Smoking was prohibited and any unnecessary noise had to be avoided. As the snowfall increased, it soon became apparent once again that winter uniforms were very useful. After 2.5 hours, a break was ordered and permission was given to remove the heavy backpacks, but the smoking ban was reemphasized. With their hoods pulled over their heads, the men sat sleepily on their backpacks waiting in the quiet night. They were soon covered by over 3 centimeters of snow.

Suddenly, one of them began to speak in a low voice: "Hey, listen up, everyone! It's Operation Winter Storm. Today is Christmas!" "He's right," the others whispered, "Today is December 24." The motionless forms began to stir, brushing away the accumulated snow and rummaging through their backpacks for some hidden chocolate or candy. Soon everything was quiet again, each man alone with his memories of home, childhood, and past Christmases in times of peace.

The thoughts of the former Boy Scout and now leader of the 1st team took him back to the mountains of the Caucasus, when on this day two years ago, with frozen hands, he had completed his 20 days of hard work. Now, resting on their backpacks, he and his comrades were waiting at for the order to attack. They continued to wait and, one by one, fell asleep. When the orders to move were finally given, no one realized it was Christmas Day, December 25.
The men of the 2nd Company were roused at 4:30 a.m., and "Cesare" promptly appeared, informing the corporal that the commander's orders were effective immediately and that the 1st squad was attached to his platoon. This was a bitter pill for the squad members to swallow, but they shouldered their backpacks and followed the uncompromising man. As they continued to advance, they encountered medics who claimed that the 1st Company had stumbled into a minefield and suffered heavy losses. This was depressing news, which left the men in low spirits. How had this happened? No one had heard any gunfire or explosions, and everyone was eager to find out more than what the medics had mentioned as the company marched them along the road back to the rear.

The 92nd Buffalo Division
The scouts from the 2nd Company advanced just below the top of the hill, then crawled through the snow under the chestnut trees until they reached the ridge. It was now daylight and had stopped snowing. A little below them and on the opposite side of a small valley, a rough cart track wound its way towards a small village which, from their position, looked like a small but formidable fortress because of two prominent square towers. Adding to this impression was the village's position on top of a steep hill. Rumor had it that the 1st Company had encountered the minefield to the right and below this small hill, but it was impossible to make out anything down there. Orders arrived for Cesare's platoon, which was to lead the Company in its attack on the village, using the rough road as its direction of advance and proceeding in single file, widely spaced 30 meters apart.

The assault was immediately met with a barrage of white phosphorus shells, more dangerous than anything anyone had ever encountered. The only way to escape this suffocating, fiery hell was to get as close to the enemy as quickly as possible, and everyone did their best to do so. No one, however, was able to surpass the performance of "Cesare," who was like an African antelope running for his life, until he managed to dive into the safety of an abandoned American foxhole located just in front of a bastion made of earth and stones that had served as the enemy's line of defense, but he was quickly overtaken by the platoon before the rest of the Company arrived.

"Cesare" was nowhere to be found, until he finally peeked cautiously out of his hiding place and ordered the leader of the 1st Squad, who stood exposed in front of the hole looking alternately at the ground and his crouching superior, to take his men along a steep ravine and overtake the Americans on the left. Probably the commander, having seen this spectacle from afar, suddenly appeared on the scene and furiously berated the unfortunate Cesare. "If you want to give orders, at least get out of this hole. Is that clear?" "Cesare" replied meekly, "Yes, sir, lieutenant, but I seem to have a better view of the ravine from down here." While the enlisted men had long known that "Caesar" was an "uncompromising" model but at the same time an absolute coward, it was only at that moment that the commander began to pay attention to him. Did he really believe that it was still possible to achieve "Final Victory" with the support of people like Caesar?

From that moment on, the 1st team had to take the lead while the attack continued with the immediate objective of taking Sommocolonia, at the top of the cliff. This was to be followed by an advance towards Barga and, finally, towards Fornaci di Barga, where the operation in the Serchio valley would come to an end.
The team proceeded cautiously along the ravine, expecting to encounter the enemy at any moment. After reaching the lower end, the leader began to turn right when he suddenly discovered a group of armed men, also surprised, standing next to a small shed. Both leaders simultaneously raised their machine guns but hesitated at the last moment, realizing that both sides were dressed alike. They had not yet accustomed their eyes to the recently distributed winter uniforms. It turned out that the members of the other group were elements of the left flank of the Mittenwald battalion. They smiled in recognition and greeted each other, while the 1st squad continued to the right, where the ground was covered with large chestnut trees, to a 5-6 meter deep gully from which they did not go further.

The entire 2nd Company, with the exception of the mule column, had meanwhile moved uphill, and the "fortress-like village" with its two towers was immediately above the unit. So far, the column had not been hit by the incredibly fierce artillery barrage, but incoming shells began to strike the area where they were exploding on the tall trees, even decapitating a very popular comrade.

An enemy officer was spotted on one of the towers and promptly shot by one of the sharpshooters, while at the same time a large number of American soldiers of color were observed preparing to mount a counterattack on the aforementioned bastion of stone and earth. The German machine guns immediately opened fire, and the murderous and devastating barrage of American artillery was shifted and fell on the village itself and on the counterattack of the Buffalo soldiers. One of the towers received a direct hit and, as if crushed by a giant fist, was split in half and collapsed in a cloud of smoke and dust. It had been the position of the enemy officer before he was hit by one of the German sharpshooters.

The commander of the 2nd Company was among the German casualties. He always sharply reprimanded his men if they failed to dig in; apparently, he had not yet noticed that most of the men had lost their digging tools during the retreat from Cassino. He himself, however, remained standing without seeking shelter despite his conspicuous six-foot frame, which offered an inviting target to an enemy marksman. He was wounded for the first time in his upper right arm. After briefly inspecting the damage, he uttered "Damn" and pressed on. The next bullet took him in the right thigh, and his comment was again "Damn," but he was still unwilling to seek cover; he was unable to hide the fact that he was limping.

The 1st squad continued across the gully after further resistance had ceased. Under the house number of an abandoned and closed house, a sign read "Sommocolonia-Barga." The ordinary German soldier "Anny" rarely knew where he was, as was the case here. Therefore, he had to try to learn the names of villages, inlets, valleys, and other geographical features to find his way around. All that was officially known about this operation was that they were supposed to push the enemy back about 24 kilometers and then retreat again.
And so it happened.
Meanwhile, daylight was beginning to fade and it started to drizzle. The men were resting on their backpacks again, some of them rummaging through their disorderly loads for food. Cesare had last been seen crouching in the hole, and since then all orders had come directly from the commander, but he was the only officer in the company and had been wounded. What would happen next? It would be a disaster if Cesare took over. No one knew where the Americans were hiding. Even though their eyes and ears were strained, no suspicious movements or noises were perceptible. Darkness fell, and for hours the troops continued to sit sleepily. Finally, the order to leave came, and the column continued toward the valley floor, following a cart track through olive groves and terraced vineyards.
December 27, 1944, 3:30 a.m. It was still dark, but it had stopped raining and the moon had come out. The track on the map had led them to a wide main road at the bottom of the valley, which the troops turned right onto. A wide riverbed was faintly visible on the left. The edge of the roadway was littered with discarded pieces of American uniforms, bazookas, and other military equipment, all clear evidence of a hasty retreat, but now all was quiet and apparently no fighting was taking place in the area.
After a while, the unit left the main road, turned left, and, crossing the river on an old stone bridge, arrived at a complex of buildings. The men were delighted when they discovered piles of mattresses in the open basements. A rest period was ordered, and almost no one could remember the last time they had enjoyed such luxury. The complex of buildings was located at the base of a steep escarpment, and no one could tell wh r what was at the top.

 The rest was very short. They had just fallen asleep when they were awakened in their comfortable resting place. "Everyone up and out! Hurry! Go back a hundred meters! Our artillery is about to fire a barrage on this area!" After such an abrupt awakening, there was cursing and insults directed at the artillerymen, who were fortunately far away.
"Those... damn idiots! Why on earth would they want to start bombing a place we've been occupying for hours? When we really needed it at Sommocolonia, they said it was out of range of their guns. Anyway, what kind of 'monkey business' is this?"
It was all useless; the "monkey business" went ahead as planned. Fortunately, there were no civilians around; apparently, they had left some time ago. Cesare reappeared and, as it turned out to be only the first move in the initial order to retreat 100 meters, he directed the 1st team back to the starting point while the column took a steep cobbled path leading to the top of the aforementioned escarpment.​​ , when they reached the top, they were surprised by a memorable sight: a beautiful little town stretched out on the hillside in front of them. Row upon row of pretty little houses were terraced up to the top, which was occupied by an imposing building, the town's cathedral. At a crossroads immediately in front of them, a sign indicated that this was Barga. Was it still occupied by the Americans? Cautiously, the advance team moved forward in line without much cover until they unexpectedly found themselves in front of a bridge crossing a rocky chasm about 70 meters wide. This was the center of the town, where almost impregnable defenses could be established without resorting to significant manpower or elaborate means.
The team leader decided to cross first and alone, with his men covering him with their weapons. The rest followed him, one at a time, but no shots were fired at them; the town seemed deserted. (Author's note: the demolition charges had been laid as early as December 3, and the bridge was ready to be blown up, but in their headlong retreat, the Buffalo Division engineers obviously forgot to do so.)

The pretty little town was completely deserted, but somehow they couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching them. Their heavy, studded mountain boots made an incredible racket on the cobblestones of the narrow streets, and since it's always easier to fight an attacker who has to move uphill, the team leader decided to reach the high ground around the cathedral as quickly as possible. Some of the buildings they encountered on the way to their target were on fire, American grenades were scattered on the
streets, and some nuns were piling their meager belongings onto a cart in front of an imposing gate. They ignored the friendly gestures of the German soldiers, but did they do so because of the commotion that had obviously disrupted the city's routine? Once at the top, the men intuitively headed for the portal, intending to enter the cathedral.
If anyone had asked them at that moment and in that place whether they had earned access, they probably would not have been able to offer a reasonable explanation. Let's assume it was because of Christmas. But it didn't matter, because the entrance was locked. Wandering around, they enjoyed the panoramic view in front of them with Sommocolonia, which they had taken yesterday, on the hill in the distance, even further back the snow-capped mountains with their old positions and, above all, blue skies and peaceful sunlight.
Wasn't it the Almighty, who had allowed them to be here in these uniforms, who also resided there? When their gaze returned from the distant mountains to the rooftops of the cities below, they noticed that they were severely damaged from previous fighting. But the sporadic German bombing that morning could not have caused such extensive destruction. Other serious fighting must have taken place here earlier.
Through narrow streets and alleys, the team began to descend into the city again and, after passing through a beautiful medieval gateway, entered a large terraced square. The terraces, arranged in a semicircle like the rows of seats in an ancient amphitheater, were obscured at the top by a group of huge Lebanese cedars. On the left side, the square was bordered by the old wall with the Royal Gate, on the opposite side by a row of houses and a small archway leading, as the arrow on a small sign seemed to indicate, to the Hotel Lebanon. The leader of the first team sent a sentry to the Royal Gate as protection against surprises from that direction. (Author's note: from now on, we will refer to the team leader as "Scout" for easier identification by the reader. After all, he had once been a Boy Scout.)
The team members left their backpacks among the cedars and rested; some had a snack, others smoked. Meanwhile, the rest of the 2nd Company had arrived and the occupation of Barga was complete. The instruction given by the Company was: "Requisitioning is permitted." This, of course, was nothing more than a euphemism for "Looting is permitted," and the Scout had always considered this practice degrading to a civilized nation. But were the Nazis civilized?
During World War I, soldiers of the K.U.K. Army (acronym for kaiserlich und königlich - from German: imperial and royal) of the Austro-Hungarian Empire were punished by the "Spange" if, being hungry, they were caught stealing a chicken in occupied territory. World War I veterans who had witnessed this barbaric procedure described how the culprit was suspended for 24 hours by his wrists from a tree branch with his toes barely touching the ground. In today's army, however, it was Standard Operating Procedure, and the Scout was not allowed to deny his men this "privilege." However, none of them showed any interest, but many other members of the Company took advantage of it enthusiastically.
The break had been going on for some time, and the comrades were relaxing, simply sitting in a circle, when our friend, a little bored, glanced toward the small archway leading to the Hotel Libano, and just as if emerging from a dark passageway, a tall, heavily armed figure appeared, followed by several similar individuals. His hands were buried in his trouser pockets, a cigarette dangled carelessly from his lips, and his chest was decorated with several medals, one of which was rectangular, bright blue and , and depicted a rifle. He wore a helmet covered with a net, and his skin was black, as was that of his companions.
The Scout initially believed he was facing the friendly Italian soldiers from the nearby sector, but then, ready to fire his machine gun, he lunged at them, shouting "Hands up!" and then immediately warned his companions by shouting "Watch out, there are negroes!". The black giant first looked at the Scout with curiosity, almost as if amused by the appearance of one of those small decorative plaster pygmies in a garden. But then, struck by reality, the color drained from his face, his cigarette fell to the ground as his jaw dropped and his hands rose as his three companions did the same. At that moment, a straggler appeared and immediately performed a real somersault, landing safely on the main road below. A few shots fired wildly probably, hopefully, did not injure him. His frank and daring reaction certainly deserved admiration.
The Scout and his men stripped their prisoners of their weapons and all other items that, according to the generally accepted rules of "civilized" warfare, they should not have kept, such as maps, compasses, binoculars, lighters, pocket knives, and the like. No one, however, touched their ribbons, medals, insignia, or unit badges, because taking them from a prisoner was considered dishonorable. But what had happened to military ethics, traditions, and honor since the outbreak of this war?
Once the black soldiers had been disarmed, they were allowed to lower their hands again. Since cigarettes had always been a scarce commodity among the Germans, the Scout took the still-smoking cigarette and then returned it and let the black leader finish smoking it. The man, however, declined, probably never expecting to be accommodating to an enemy, while the Scout didn't think twice about it. The black American, apparently a senior non-commissioned officer in the Buffalo Division, appeared rather surprised and hesitant and asked, "Are you German?" The reply, "No, I'm Austrian," lit up the man's face, and he relayed the good news to his comrades. They were obviously quite relieved that their worst fears had proved unfounded. Although they did not know what orders the German soldiers had initially received. The apprehension of the prisoners of war increased again when a number of officers appeared who, with the exception of the Battalion Commander, were unknown to the Scout.
The Americans were then made to line up with their backs against the side of a house, and as the situation strongly suggested an imminent execution, the frightened men looked anxiously at the Scout, who had kept close to the group of officers to hear as much as possible of their ongoing conversation. As soon as his ears picked up the words "... can carry mortar ammunition ...", he looked towards the prisoners and shook his head, instantly dispelling their fears.

The 2nd Company, with Scout and his men in the lead as before, began to move again and continued their advance through gardens and vineyards, across fields and open pastures. Enemy bombers suddenly appeared in the skies, and every man quickly took position near one of the vines lined up with military precision. Remaining motionless, the men escaped detection, and the planes proceeded to bomb and strafe the unfortunate town the Germans had just left.
Once the planes had disappeared, the column continued until Scout's team reached a fairly large two-story farmhouse, which they entered and searched, discovering a large quantity of delicious salami hanging from the ceiling of an upstairs room. This was a much-appreciated addition to their rations. At that moment, Scout noticed that his black American protégés were arriving with the rest of the 2nd Company.
He felt compassion for them because they seemed to be having a hard time, each dragging two containers with mortar rounds, and since they were probably hungry too, he gave them each a salami, reasoning that there was no telling when anyone would think to feed these colleagues.
Setting off again after this interruption, the column descended a steep slope, reached a wide paved main road, and turned left toward a village. A sign at the entrance told the men that this was Fornaci di Barga, and the arrow on another sign indicated that they were moving in the direction of Lucca. The Scout, with his advance team spread out on both sides of the road, cautiously entered the village. Once again, the road, as well as the courtyards and houses themselves, was littered with discarded military clothing, half-open suitcases with their contents spilled out, and many other items abandoned in a panic-stricken escape. This place was obviously deserted, and they continued on to the train station where the order to stop, issued by the Commander in the rear and passed on by word of mouth, reached Scout's team.

The 4th Battalion had reached its assigned objective, and the 2nd Company moved in to secure it. The troops settled in and began searching their backpacks for their canned rations. Instead of the usual cans containing cabbage and traces of meat (pork? beef? horse? donkey?), they had been given tins containing a "delicacy" of young spinach, vintage '42. But before they had a chance to savor this "treat," joyful cries erupted from a red brick building located in a meadow a short distance away, opposite the station. Evidently, this building had served as the regiment's storehouse and contained an incredible abundance of K rations, a wide variety of canned meat, breakfast meat, salted beef, thousands of cigarettes of every brand imaginable, and many other delicacies. It housed a weapons dump containing, to everyone's surprise, the brand-new German Model '42 machine guns.
It was like Christmas all over again, with these young men marveling at food they had never tasted or seen before, trying to gather and carry as much as possible, and wandering around like children unable to comprehend Santa Claus' unexpected generosity. One in the crowd had decided to collect all the chocolate he could find, another only cigarettes, while another turned out to be a weapons collector. With four or five pistols and revolvers dangling from his belt and proudly brandishing a strange-looking machine gun, he was probably already beginning to doubt that he would be able to carry his trophies home.

As daylight began to fade, the retreat began. Each backpack now weighed between 59 and 63 kilograms, and every pocket was filled with American Christmas gifts, while the vintage '42 canned spinach had been left behind, neatly lined up on the windowsills of the houses. The men began to groan and complain the moment they lifted their backpacks for the long walk back to their lines.
Cesare also reappeared and ordered the Scout to remain in the village for another hour and provide cover with his men for the departing troops. While a sentry was manning the light machine gun in the front yard, the members of the team, eight young soldiers aged between 17 and 20, sat on their backpacks in a house opposite the station where a smoky fire had just been lit. All was quiet except for a few shots fired to their left on a ridge barely visible in the darkness and the occasional crackle of the fire at the station.
Silently smoking American cigarettes or munching on chocolate bars, the men waited for the hour to pass, but it seemed to take forever. The silence of the night was broken by the faint sounds of vehicles approaching from afar. As the noises grew closer and louder, the young boys began to think about tanks and how, as foolish soldiers, they would handle them. Only the Scout and the machine gunner had ever been in such a situation, and individual anti-tank weapons were not available here.
The soldiers became increasingly nervous as the source of the fire increased to their left, and they were able to distinguish the ominous clanking of tank tracks from the sounds of the approaching vehicles. One of the men, unable to resist any longer, finally turned to the Scout: "Hey, how long are you going to keep us waiting here? Why can't we clear out now? No one will find out we left before the hour is up!" But his superior remained silent and joined his machine gunner outside. Checking his watch, he tried to estimate how long he could safely remain at his post without putting himself in danger. He was agitated, his thoughts drifting to the past, and he returned to the building, where he encountered a growing clamor to "get out of here, now." Finally, he addressed his men: "Have I ever gotten you into trouble since I took over this team? Let me tell you something: my best friend and I were in a similar situation exactly two years ago in the Caucasus, and our comrades made big promises not to tell anyone, but when the chips were down, they broke their pact and we almost lost our lives. I don't want to hear any more, we're staying as ordered. And that's it!"
The Scout realized, of course, that his decision had earned him a reputation as either a thick-headed, hard-nosed soldier or a crazy Nazi fanatic. He had, however, learned from experience and was keenly aware that, even though the gray uniform was fairly common, it could also conceal a former Hitler Youth leader or the offspring of a Nazi official. A single careless word or ill-conceived action in the presence of such an individual could prove fatal.
The team's situation, meanwhile, had become more precarious, as American tanks and the American were closing in dangerously. The Scout, needless to say, had no intention of exposing his comrades to an approaching enemy division. His watch told him that there were only a few minutes left before time ran out. Their advantage, and he had always counted on it, was the darkness as dark as the ink of night.
When their opponents from the Buffalo Division reached the regiment's headquarters, in the red brick villa just 50 meters away, an hour had passed, and he signaled to his men to shoulder their backpacks and leave quietly. Since their heavy boots would make too much noise on the pavement, he had taken the precaution of ordering them to walk only on the grassy edge of the road. Despite carrying almost twice their usual load, the boys ran ahead as if trying to cross the tracks in front of a speeding express train, and even though it was pitch dark, the Scout unerringly led them back along the same path that had brought them from Barga.
But the strain of the heavy backpacks seemed to increase with every step toward safety, and knowing that his exhortations would not be able to last much longer, he ordered them to stop once they reached the bottom of the steep slope below the "Salami Factory."
There, standing in the pale moonlight, he addressed them after a thoughtful pause: "What I am about to tell you must never be discussed, either among yourselves or with anyone else. Is that clear?" And deliberately scrutinizing each individual, he repeated emphatically: "Not with anyone, not even your best friend. Is that absolutely clear?" The young men looked at each other as if a solemn spell had been cast on them, while the Scout continued: "Our backpacks are too heavy to continue moving forward. Our ammunition boxes are mostly filled with steel casings which, as you well know, rust and keep jamming the machine guns. I want you to keep only one belt in each box and throw the rest into this ravine. This will lighten each box by about 10 kilograms and give you a little more room for your loot." The comrades did not need to be told twice and enthusiastically threw away the hated steel ammunition and redistributed their loads.

Continuing their retreat, they passed the precipice below Barga. Its bottom was covered with thick scrub, and the team members slowed down hesitantly and finally stopped, thinking silently about the only black American who had so boldly made his way to safety. What if he had hurt himself after all and was now helpless down there? Someone should help him, administer first aid, apply a bandage or something. Doing nothing, knowing he was suffering, would be downright cruel. They listened carefully for a while and, hearing nothing, continued on until they finally reached their company.
After only two hours of sleep, the team woke up and found that the column was already ready to move. Continuing its retreat, the column passed through Sommocolonia with its ruined tower and numerous dead black Americans. What were the captured Buffalo soldiers thinking, if they were still somewhere here among their captors? The Scout never saw them again or learned of their fate.
The column continued to move until it reached the main road again, where the men, without waiting for an order, dropped their backpacks and sat down to rest. They were exhausted and could barely continue. As usual when bullets were not flying, Caesar appeared again, without a heavy backpack of course, and shouted at the troops: "Get back to your backpacks immediately and unload all that loot. We have to reach our destination before dawn to avoid being attacked by enemy aircraft." None of the Company's enlisted men moved, however, and pacing furiously up and down the road, he said, "Did you hear me? I said 'immediately'!" But he only managed to start a tumultuous scene with the soldiers cursing and shouting at him, "This is disgusting. We won't accept it!" Even the few remaining non-commissioned officers of the Company, including George, the leader of the 2nd platoon, voiced objections and sided with the men. In short, everyone was united in refusing to obey Caesar's order.
A first lieutenant commanding another company nearby suddenly appeared amid all the shouting and confusion, asking what was going on. Some comrades explained the circumstances, and after a brief pause for reflection, he asked who had led the advance guard during the advance and the rearguard during the retreat.
Everyone knew, of course, that it had been the Scout, and since his squad was still at the rear of the column, he was called forward. When he reported, the officer, to everyone's amazement, placed him in command of the company. The Scout himself was speechless because George, as a first sergeant, and the other sergeants clearly outranked him, and one of them would have been a more logical candidate.
But what choice did a humble first corporal have when he was suddenly put in command of the 2nd Company?
After the brief order to "take your packs and go," he and his team took the initiative to reach the unit's objective before dawn. The rest of the soldiers trudged along contentedly under their heavy loads, and, thinking that the men in front were equally burdened, all complaints ceased. Of course, they did not know that the 1st Squad, whose members were smiling knowingly in the darkness, had abandoned most of their steel ammunition and were traveling much lighter.

It turned out that the operation described above was the last successful major German offensive in Italy. It was led by the 2nd Company, 4th High Mountain Battalion, which suffered 20 dead and 4 officers and just over 100 men wounded.
Neither the men of the 10th Mountain Division nor the members of the 4th High Mountain Battalion probably realized that when the advance elements of the 86th Regiment reached Pisa and Lucca at 3:00 p.m. on December 27, the 2nd Company, the 4th High Mountain Battalion with the Scout and his men in command entered Fornaci di Barga, only 25 miles away.

The first encounter with the 10th Mountain Division
Following Operation Winter Thunderstorm against the US 92nd Infantry Division in the Serchio Valley, the 4th High Mountain Battalion had returned to the Pievepelago sector. Shortly after New Year's Day, a major operation was launched against Italian partisans in the heavily snow-covered Passo Radici region. The battalion's effective combat strength at that time amounted to 504 men (excluding the third company, which was deployed in the Aulla region).
The artillery component of the 4th High Mountain Battalion was reinforced with five additional pieces, including the IOS, which were also deployed in the Passo dell'Abetone sector, thus providing the battalion with a firepower it had never enjoyed before. On the other hand, a significant number of older and more combat-experienced men had to be sent as replacements to the battered 2nd Mountain Division in the Vosges mountains of eastern France.
The replacements, arriving from Germany to fill the ranks of the battalion depleted by these reassignments, as well as by the losses suffered during Operation Winter Storm, had received only three weeks of military training. This was an advantage for Cesare, who wasted no time in making up for what these young men had missed on the training ground. The commander, too, having sufficiently recovered from the wounds he had recently suffered, returned with his status reinforced by a promotion to Captain in recognition of his company's achievements. In addition, he had been awarded the "German Cross in Gold" for exceptional personal valor.

During a reconnaissance in force conducted on January 9, 1945, by a reinforced platoon of the 4th High Mountain Battalion in the sector held by the German 232nd Infantry Division in the Rhine Valley, a fallen comrade had to be left behind after a skirmish with Brazilian troops (8th Company of the 16th Infantry Regiment, BEF).

After a brief period of rest, at the beginning of February, the companies of the 4th High Mountain Battalion were redeployed. The 1st Company was assigned to secure the rear against Italian partisans; the 2nd Company moved to the main defensive positions on the Abetone Pass, Alpe Tre Potenze (altitude 1,940 meters above sea level) and Monte Rondinaio (1,945 meters above sea level), while the 3rd Company was deployed on the Radici Pass and north of San Pellegrino to secure the western and northwestern perimeters. The 4th Company was held in reserve, while the 5th Company, the HQ Company, and the support units were located in the Pievepelago - S. Anna Pelago - Fiumalbo - Riolunato area.
The battery of pack howitzers of the 4th High Mountain Battalion returned to their positions on the Abetone Pass, which had meanwhile been occupied by the Italians, who had previously abandoned the guns of two batteries. Providing artillerymen for these newly acquired pieces initially left the German artillerymen short-handed.
The German mountain soldiers who had previously built and occupied positions in this sector for a whole month knew the hills and valleys around the Abetone Pass well, including Monte la Serra (where the 2nd Company had occupied advanced positions), Pianosinatico, San Marcello, Cutigliano, etc.
However, the loyalty of the Italian troops still deployed with the Germans was doubtful, with numerous deserters providing the enemy with vital information. Among the Italians was also a lone German officer from the observation and fire control platoon of the field howitzers on the southern slopes of the heights east of the Abetone Pass.

There were numerous reconnaissance missions, with teams alternating every other day. The Scout and his men had found shelter in the basement of a hotel on the Abetone Pass, where they moved every time it was their turn. Always leaving at dawn, they first had to pass through a snow-covered minefield in front of the main defensive positions.
The snow, although almost a meter and a half deep, was wind-blown and fairly compact, and the wooded terrain provided good cover. Instead of following the Pass road towards Pianosinatico, they moved along the ridge towards Monte La Serra but soon turned and descended into the Sestaione Valley, which was no man's land.
Hidden from enemy view by scattered bushes, the group crossed the valley floor and climbed about halfway up the slopes of Monte dell'Uccelliera before turning towards Monte Caligi. The sun had risen in the meantime, and at the foot of the slopes below Monte La Serra, a few houses in Ponte al Sestaione became visible.
In the opinion of these men, the surrounding mountains qualified only as "wooded hills." The "mountains" began above 1,980 meters. But sometimes even "hills" can seem quite strenuous. The Scout scanned the terrain with binoculars and drew a map on which he marked enemy mortar pits, machine gun positions, holes, sentry positions, and the like. A solitary building, 100 meters ahead of them, in no man's land and so far unoccupied by the enemy, had to be carefully examined before it was time to retreat again. This time there were a few boys lying on blankets, shirtless, enjoying the sun, while two others were chatting nearby. The helmets visible on the scattered piles of their equipment were not of the disc variety that the Scout had noticed during encounters with British troops in November. They were round! Those were Americans! After observing their opponents for a while, the Scout and his troops slipped away quietly. He had made it a rule for these missions that there was no smoking, talking, or moving rashly or suddenly, as this would attract the enemy's curiosity. Orders were given with hand signals and communicated with simple sign language.
Still in no man's land and on their way back to their own lines, they suddenly heard voices approaching and took up position in a pile of bushes behind a snowdrift, weapons at the ready, watching and waiting until a group of men in American uniforms appeared no more than 30 meters away, apparently an unsuspecting reconnaissance team on their way back. Had they been suddenly alerted to the enemy's presence by a suspicious noise or some unfortunate coincidence, none of them would have survived. But they remained unaware of the Germans' presence, and the Scout continued to retreat without taking any action.
This was the first encounter between the Scout and his team, representing the German 4th High Mountain Battalion, and members of the US 10th Mountain Division's 86th Regiment, and it would not be the only one.

On another occasion, when the Scout and his men were again on patrol in the same area, but this time higher up and just below the ridge running from Monte dell'Uccelliera to Monte Caligi, he spotted a black cable in the snow in front of him, stretching from the ridge above straight down into the valley.
Signaling his men to take cover, he used the penknife he had previously taken from the black non-commissioned officer of the Buffalo Division in Barga, cut the wire in two places, and pocketed a section several meters long. With the task completed, the Scout looked around and noticed an American, again only 30 meters away, scanning the no-man's-land with his binoculars glued to his eyes and totally unaware of the enemy right under his nose. If he had lowered his binoculars and taken another look around before taking cover again, he would have spotted the Germans nearby. But he didn't, and they continued on toward Mount Caligi and the rear of the American lines, where the Scout again marked the enemy's positions by sketching them on a small clean sheet of paper.
On their way back to their lines, they came across numerous enemy propaganda leaflets. The Germans were strictly forbidden to collect this literature, and since there was a constant turnover of personnel with new young faces assigned to his team, the Scout never knew whether he was dealing with a Nazi or Hitler Youth offspring, all of whom were darlings of the Company.
To satisfy his curiosity and at the same time play it safe, he collected several leaflets, announcing that they would come in handy because he had bodily needs. Directing his men to scatter and stay low, he disappeared behind some bushes to study the "latest news" from the other side. "Stars and Stripes," it said at the top, and if everything he read was true, the war would soon be over. But then he suspected again that the Allies were lying as shamelessly as the Nazis. What about the "Morgenthau Plan" and the bombing of Dresden he had heard about recently, as well as many other rumors? Yet, even if only half of the information gathered from these leaflets was true, it had to end soon.
If only he knew who to believe. Thoughtfully, he gathered his team and led them safely back to their lines, where he reported to the commander and handed him the map he had drawn, as well as the neatly rolled section of telephone cable. He wasn't quite sure why he had brought back a dozen feet of telephone cable from the field officer of the 10th Mountain Division. Perhaps it was just to show the captain how much he had improved, or perhaps it was more because of his Boy Scout training, just as other young Germans had learned while in the Hitler Youth.

They went out again a few days later and came across tracks left in the snow by previous German reconnaissance parties, including those left by his comrade George and his team. He too was an old soldier who had fought in the Caucasus, and they were friends. George's tracks led to a thicket in no man's land where, as it turned out, he and his men had spent the whole day resting and pondering all sorts of important information that they would report back after returning in the evening. The Scout just smiled without commenting on what he had discovered. George was 15 years older than him and was, in a sense, the "Grandfather" of the Company. He had never been a follower of Hitler and was perhaps best described as "a spectator who found himself suddenly pushed onto the bandwagon with no chance of getting off again."
These reconnaissance excursions into enemy-controlled territory usually lasted between 14 and 18 hours.

There were some deserted farmhouses in the Sestaione Valley below Monte La Serra, and as they returned from one of their clandestine missions behind the lines of the 10th Mountain Division, the Scout and his troops cautiously entered one of the buildings through the back door. He had noticed footprints in the snow and decided to investigate.
Could it be that the Italian farmer had returned to check on his property? If nothing else, there was always the chance of finding some food, which would be welcome.
They quietly crossed the barn and opened the living room door, stopping instantly without making a sound. Cigarette smoke rose toward the ceiling, and they could hear men speaking English as they left the house through the front door. A glance out the window revealed an American squad departing in the direction of Ponte al Sestaione/Cutigliano.

The Scout was challenged by an Italian sentry as they approached the Abetone Pass again. "Password?" he asked, pointing his automatic weapon at them. They did not know the password because it had not been given to them before they left. Taken by surprise and hesitating briefly, the Scout replied, "Comrade. Don't shoot. I'm coming alone," and turned to his team: "Keep an eye on him! If he makes a wrong move, hit the ground and keep him jumping!" At the same time, without the sentry noticing, he released the safety catch on his submachine gun. After coming face to face with the Italian, he calmly deflected the man's gun and signaled to his soldiers to move up. It was all over.

Once back at their shelter, the Scout met one of the field artillery officers who had to do his lonely job among the "loyal" Italian troops. He confirmed that desertions were common and obviously provided the enemy with vital information. The Italians also occupied advanced positions on Mount La Serra and knew that German reconnaissance activities in no man's land continued even at night, making desertion rather risky due to the serious consequences if they were caught in the act.
The field officer was very interested in comparing the results of his observations with the findings that the Scout had reported in his sketches on his map. Having found themselves behind enemy lines, they had noticed things that the officer was unable to see from his position.
During these weeks, the understaffed companies of the German 4th High Mountain Battalion came face to face with elements of all three infantry regiments of the 10th Mountain Division, with the 2nd Company mainly involved due to the deep knowledge of the terrain they had acquired during their previous deployment.

While the fighting spirit of the American soldiers and their determination to win the war increased day by day, driven by news of successful campaigns in all theaters, the opposite was true for the German troops. Virtually all that remained to give them an advantage was the combat experience gained over years of war, but even this advantage was rapidly disappearing because most of the experienced officers, non-commissioned officers, and men were dead, wounded, or victims of Hitler's executioners. The replacements arriving at the platoon consisted mainly of young men who had been brainwashed in Nazi Aryan ideology but with totally inadequate military training.
The vast majority of German combatants had long since given up dreaming of 'final victory' and instead had adopted a 'love-hate' attitude towards the war that kept them fighting, motivated by their hatred for Hitler who, as they later discovered, had deceived and disappointed them, and by their anger at the Allied bombing of their homeland, at the futility of the sacrifices they had voluntarily made year after year, and at the senselessness of the war. They were irritated by the arrogance of the Party scribblers and their oppressive behavior in the occupied territories, by the practice of having Gestapo informers even among the frontline troops, and by the use of "family imprisonment" to discourage or punish opposition.
Had the "humble" and decorated corporal (he had been awarded the Iron Cross 1st Class), a front-line soldier in World War I, ever visited the troops in the trenches of World War II? For the Allies, however, this stubborn determination of their adversaries was an indication of stubborn fanaticism and loyalty to Hitler. While it may be true that the children of some of them, from the age of 10, had learned more than their elders about the treatment of Jews, it should be emphasized that the German combat soldier usually had enough problems to worry about and anxiously avoided getting involved in "those Party matters." They always had to be careful where they walked, because a single careless word could lead to imprisonment in a concentration camp, assignment to a penal battalion, or, in the case of a less serious offense, being sent on the next suicide mission. It should be emphasized here that ample evidence is available to support the author's opinions and accusations.

Death on Mount Serrasiccia
February 18, 1945.
Orders were received for the 2nd Company of the 4th German High Mountain Battalion to retreat from their positions on the Abetone Pass to the hamlet of Dogana, where they had the opportunity to have their boots repaired by the company shoemaker while they busied themselves mending their clothes. Their socks, in particular, required great skill with needle and thread, as new ones were hard to find. Since it was a beautiful day, everyone tried to find time to do their laundry. And finally, there was also time to socialize, look for comrades in other platoons, play cards, or simply chew the fat.
Rumors abounded, of course. "Something" had happened or was about to happen somewhere along the front line somewhere nearby. The soldiers, however, did not worry about this. Was there a place where nothing happened?

February 19, 1945.
It was a day similar to the previous one, except that an inspection of weapons and ammunition was carried out. But this presented no problems. The Scout had always insisted on meticulous maintenance of the weapons, and their ammunition boxes had been filled with shiny brass cartridges. When, after the mission against the Buffalo Division, the quartermaster sergeant questioned their unusual expenditure of machine gun ammunition, the Scout replied boastfully, "Didn't you know we led the assault on Barga? We took the brunt of the fighting and left the mopping up to the boys behind us. They hardly fired a shot." The man readily accepted the Scout's false explanation and expressed his admiration for the men. He did not know he had been deceived.
The squad's machine gunner had fired only a few short bursts during the Buffalo soldiers' counterattack before their artillery barrage took care of the rest.
As Caesar conducted the weapons inspection in the late afternoon, the Scout was called to report to the commander who, with the company sergeant major at his side, seemed to be in a friendly mood but short on time. Both congratulated him on receiving the Infantry Assault Badge, which the captain personally pinned on the "lucky" recipient's tunic. He also received the citation listing the five assaults in which he had participated.
Then came the bad news: he was to take charge of a squad composed entirely of inexperienced replacements who, and this was a bitter pill to swallow, were part of Cesare's platoon. This meant once again saying goodbye to the comrades he had just gotten to know a little better. They, in turn, were reassigned to the 1st Company. The Scout had noticed for some time that, for some particular reason, his squad had an exceptionally high rate of turnover, transfers, and reassignments. Every time he had molded the squad into shape, with the men transforming from strangers into friends, familiar faces would disappear, only to be replaced by unknown youngsters. After being dismissed, he went to meet his new charges, all of whom were complete strangers, except for Hans, an old friend and the battalion's best marksman.
It was getting late in the afternoon when the 2nd Company was told to be ready to leave by 7:00 p.m. The Americans had broken through the German lines on a mountain and it was imperative to push them back again. Which mountain? The commander, at best, had the privilege of knowing. There was not even time to feed the troops as the cooks had also been taken by surprise.
The sky was overcast and it was getting dark when trucks arrived and the men immediately climbed aboard. They set off into the night on a road full of potholes, passing through darkened and unfamiliar villages without being able to make out any signs along the way. The drivers kept up a breakneck speed, jolting their comrades around like in a cement mixer until, after having to slow down a little on a downhill stretch, they stopped. The driver hurriedly lowered the sides, urging the troops to get out as quickly as possible and without turning on any lights. The village was exposed to the enemy and they had to get out again quickly. As soon as the last man had jumped out, the trucks sped away and disappeared into the night like ghosts.
The soldiers gathered their equipment and assembled along the side of the road. It was pitch dark, and a light rain had begun to fall. The Scout noticed what appeared to be a road sign near him and was eager to find out what it said so he could get his bearings. Due to the ink-like darkness and low clouds that limited visibility for friend and foe alike, he approached and briefly flicked his lighter. Half of the sign was gone, the other half shredded by shrapnel, and he could barely make out the first three letters: "FAN...." [Fanano]. The column began to move, following an uphill path through dense scrub. The drizzle did not bother them; on the contrary, it was refreshing. After proceeding for a few hours, they reached a cluster of farm buildings and stopped. It was almost midnight on February 19, and the name of the hamlet [Casella] remained a mystery. The Company had an hour's rest before launching a counterattack against an enemy they knew nothing about, on a mountain whose name they did not even know [Serrasiccia]. What difference did it make? For over a year, they had been assigned to 15 different divisions to act as "firefighters."
The men found a barn and fell asleep in an instant. No one thought about eating; that could be done at another time, on the move, and even thinking about the impending battle would be unproductive. The Scout was no different from the others; all he cared about was SLEEP, REST. But as soon as he had made himself comfortable, Hermann, the company's only doctor, appeared out of the darkness. His home was in Nuremberg, and he had attended medical school before being drafted. Exactly one year earlier, he had lent the Scout the book The Antichrist by F. Nietzsche, one of the beacons of Nazi ideology. Now he wanted to engage him in a philosophical discussion on the subject of "Mind and Soul." Although they did not belong to the same religious faith, the two were very good friends. A lively discussion ensued, but the hour passed too quickly. They parted thoughtfully.

February 20, 1945.
It is 1:00 a.m., the rain has stopped, and a few stars are visible in the sky. The 2nd Company, with a total strength of 81 men, according to a final count, is ready to advance with Cesare's 1st Platoon and the Scout's 6-man squad in the lead. Shortly before leaving, the column encountered a small contingent under the command of a friendly sergeant.
The Scout had never seen men of their age engaged in combat duty; all of them, except for their squad leader, looked old enough to be the fathers of the men of the 2nd Company. It never crossed the Captain's mind, however, to send these elderly "plainsmen," members of the 1044th Infantry Regiment, to the rear, but instead ordered them to join his unit immediately. Did he expect to get closer to "Final Victory" by adding this group of soldiers, in disarray and in a bad mood, to his unit? Apart from the snow crunching under their boots, there was no sound as the column advanced until a reconnaissance team, which had been sent out earlier, appeared out of the darkness. Its leader had been wounded in the right arm and was in great pain. After making his report and describing the firefight with the enemy, his men, with the commander's permission, escorted him to the rear.
The Company continued to advance on the snow-covered slopes; no shots were fired and everything remained quiet and silent, almost like a winter fairyland. Continuing the climb for some time, they came to a cart track which they followed until they reached a steep, snow-covered ravine that stretched upwards from the right-hand edge of the path. At one point, Cesare ordered the Scout to take his men to this ravine and immediately attack any enemy forces he encountered during his advance.
No one realized that it would only be a few minutes before the "Old Acquaintances" would meet again, this time up close and deadly, because Company C of the 86th, commanded by Captain Worth McClure, was waiting for them up there. It was December 27, 1944, when the two units came close to each other for the first time, 25 miles apart, when the 86th Mountain Infantry Regiment, 10th Mountain Division of the United States, reached Lucca, while the 2nd Company of the 4th German High Mountain Battalion, led by the Scout, took Fornaci di Barga.
The match was destined to be rather uneven, with the men of the US 10th Mountain Division having at their disposal almost everything that modern warfare in 1944-1945 made available to them, while their opponents, the German 4th High Mountain Battalion, lacked almost everything that American military doctrine considered essential for conducting successful military operations.
Artillery components had been left behind in the Abetone Pass sector, and communications were poor due to a lack of adequate radio equipment. There was no air cover or armored support, and no effort was made to bring up the company's supporting mortars and heavy machine guns. It almost seemed as if the battalion leadership was imagining that it would be possible to overcome the determination of the men of the 10th Mountain Division with little more than the reputation of the 4th High Mountain Battalion—long more myth than fact—as if it were excellent equipment. The comradeship of the fighters, their determination to stick together, look out for each other, and complete this mission, no longer had anything to do with the old anxiety of combat. Combat experience mattered less and less as the number of "experienced hands" continued to dwindle. The instinct for survival began to prevail.

Comparison of the fighting on February 20, 1945, on Mount Serrasiccia between the battalion diary relating to Company C of the 86th Regiment and the scout diary relating to the 2nd Company of the 4th German High Mountain Battalion.

COMBAT REPORT OF THE CLASH ON MONTE BELVEDERE BY THE 1st COMPANY / 4th HIGH MOUNTAIN BATTALION WITH THE 85th REGIMENT. FEBRUARY 20/21, 1945.

February 20, 1945
5:30 p.m. The battalion has suffered heavy losses and is regrouping. New positions are being dug in hastily and an American reconnaissance team that interrupted these activities is neutralized during a brief skirmish.
The^1stCompany is sent to another sector further east to retake the positions lost on Monte Belvedere to the enemy. Together with the commanding officer of the infantry unit deployed in that sector, the commander of the 4th High Mountain Battalion directs the 1st Company: our orders are to retake Monte Belvedere, which controls the road to Bologna. Two other infantry companies will be under your command. Monte Belvedere is held by elements of the 10th American Mountain Division.
7:30 p.m. The company moves to the starting line and sends groups of scouts into no man's land.

February 21, 1945
04:00 The Company moves over difficult terrain and, after crossing the gully where the other two infantry companies are "temporarily" taking up position, begins to climb a steep slope. The enemy positions are reached at dawn and immediately overrun. The fierce fighting continues until noon, with Pizzo di Campiano remaining firmly under the control of ^{the 1st}Company, whose commander, Captain Hertlein, has sent a messenger with orders for the two companies to move up to support the efforts of the 1st Company. Despite repeated requests, however, both units remain in the gorge below and avoid combat. Running low on ammunition and after the loss of 12 men killed and numerous wounded, the lack of support leaves the commander with no choice but to order his men to retreat.

3:00 p.m. He and the head of the Command Post team reached the rear, and as they prepared to leave the ridge, they noticed enemy reinforcements, supported by heavy weapons, preparing to launch a counterattack that the^1stCompany would not have been able to resist.

18:00 The men of the Company, exhausted by the battle and bitter at the lack of support from their infantry "comrades," retraced their steps to the northern entrance of the gorge and waited for darkness before continuing north, where they established new defensive positions.

According to the combat history of the 85th Mountain Infantry, the 1^aCompany of the 4th High Mountain Battalion was opposed by Company G of the III Battalion, 85th Regiment.

After being replaced on February 23 by infantry units, the 4th High Mountain Battalion returned to its old positions on the Abetone Pass.

COMBAT REPORT OF THE CLASH BETWEEN THE 3rd COMPANY / 4TH HIGH MOUNTAIN BATTALION AND THE 87TH REGIMENT.
FEBRUARY 25 and MARCH 24, 1945.
[Editor's note: The clash at Point 781 is reported in the combat report of the 85th Regiment of ^{the 10th}Mountain Division]

February 26, 1945
The Company established defensive positions on Mount Spigolino east of the Abetone Pass, with positions that were continuously reinforced. Occasional reconnaissance missions provided essential information on the enemy's disposition.

March 24, 1945
Prior to this date, increasingly vigorous and aggressive probing by the enemy had been occurring every two or three days. This happened again during the night of March 23-24, and Sergeant Rapp, a platoon leader, described the action as follows:
"Fighting broke out around midnight in the left sector of the Company's defensive line. At first there were a few shots, followed by machine gun fire and explosive grenades. The strongpoint on the left flank reported by telephone at approximately 00:15 that a more substantial assault was underway by two enemy platoons. Fighting flared up again around 01:45, and the enemy was finally repelled by a barrage of mortar fire."
Towards dawn, cries for help were heard coming from no man's land:
After some consultation, a group of scouts was sent out and first found three dead enemies near their own lines, where their comrades had been forced to abandon them due to heavy defensive fire. Later, at around 6:30 a.m., a seriously wounded American was found who, weakened by blood loss, was carefully transported to the German lines.
The battalion commander, who had been notified by telephone, ordered that the seriously wounded prisoner be evacuated to the battalion command post via the usual tortuous supply route. Rapp, however, pointed out that due to the poor condition of the wounded man, the evacuation team was already on its way using a shorter route through territory infested with partisans.
When the commander stated that he himself would be held personally responsible if the men were intercepted by the Irregulars, the Sergeant pointed out once again that the wounded man would never reach the Command Post alive if he were transported using the long, icy supply route. Since it was important to bring the first American prisoner in this sector safely to headquarters, the commanding officer sent a contingent to meet and escort the men evacuating the wounded man.

The next day, Captain Sch. appeared in person at the platoon's position, praising the men for their successful nighttime action that had resulted in the first American prisoner in the sector. The chocolate and "liquid refreshments" he distributed were greatly appreciated by the soldiers. Although it was difficult to obtain useful information from the weakened American, some clues supported the hypothesis that he was a member of the 87th Mountain Infantry Regiment. ( 's report indicated that much later another member of ^{the 10th}had informed him that his comrade had died in 1991). [The clash at Point 781 is reported in the combat report of the 85th Regiment of the 10th Mountain Division].
The^3rdCompany was the last of the 4th High Mountain Battalion to receive, on April 12, 1945, the order to withdraw from that sector and rejoin the Battalion already assembled in the Pievepelago / St. Anna Pelago area.

THE LAST DAYS OF THE 4th HIGH MOUNTAIN INFANTRY BATTALION
At 12:00 noon on April 7, 1945, the battalion's fighting force numbered 764 men. This was the last personnel report submitted to the higher headquarters.

April 13, 1945
The Battalion received orders to retreat westward toward Aulla to prevent enemy penetration and secure a route of retreat, while the horse-drawn and motorized support elements were ordered to proceed immediately northward and, using rough roads at the foot of the Apennines, reassemble the 4th High Mountain Battalion in the Po Valley.
At nightfall, the battalion left the positions it had held since November 5, 1944. This also ended contact with the 10th Mountain Division.

Heavy losses were suffered during intense fighting with American troops and Italian partisans in the La Spezia/Aulla sector.
An assault by American tanks was repelled on April 20 during the retreat to the Po Valley.

As the battalion was subsequently cut off and unable to contact division headquarters, the decision was made to cease fighting, and the men, singing songs, marched towards the Brazilian lines and surrendered to the 2nd Battalion of the 5th Infantry Regiment (from the State of São Paulo). The executive officer, Colonel Floriano de Lima Brayner, emphasized in his report that the battalion was in good shape and made a good impression when it surrendered with 20 officers, 460 non-commissioned officers and men, and about 200 mules.
"The proud 4th High Mountain Battalion had ceased to exist!

The unit existed for 523 days, from November 22, 1943, to April 29, 1945, and was almost continuously on the front lines in the areas of three different armies and five army corps in Italy and was attacked by fifteen different divisions (some of them more than once) over a period of 18 months. The initial strength was 850 men, and the 1,205 casualties (approximate), of which nearly 200 were confirmed killed in action, were constantly replaced.

This concludes what I wanted to tell you, my fellow Americans of the 10th Mountain Division, about "The Other Side." It is the whole truth, even if some of it seems hard to believe. Combat soldiers, regardless of the uniforms they wear, are always poor devils united by an invisible bond, and I salute in particular those of you who gave your lives for freedom and human dignity in Europe and around the world. May the Lord be with you, with your loved ones as well as ours, and help us all to promote understanding and prevent further conflict between our nations.

Your unknown comrade
Hans Burtscher

Source: A REPORT FROM THE OTHER SITE by Hans Burtscher
Translated by Andrea Gandolfi