Dog Company

The full designation for a Ranger Battalion in World War II includes “Infantry” in its official title. For the remainder of the book, it will be referred to as “2nd Ranger Battalion.”

Rudder would soon be promoted to lieutenant colonel.

World War II maps and even later publications would misspell Pointe du Hoc as “Pointe Du Hoe.”

The actual range for the guns was more likely approximately 17,400 yards. By modifying the carriage and using modern ammunition, a greater range could theoretically be achieved.

As depicted in the front jacket photograph of this book.

Lytle later become a battlefield hero and received the Distinguished Service Cross (DSC) for single-handedly rescuing two non-swimmers from the enemy side of the Moselle River. Years later, South’s best friend and fellow Ranger Willy Clark ran into Lytle, who bitterly claimed that he “never wanted to hear anything about Rangers or the name ‘Ranger’ again.”

Several C-47s carrying the 3rd Battalion of the 506 Parachute Infantry Regiment landed in the Pointe du Hoc area. Paratroopers Leonard Goodgall, Raymond Crouch, and Bob Dunning landed near Pointe du Hoc’s rocky beach and would later fight alongside Rudder’s Rangers.

Elements of Force C landed on the boundary between Green and White beaches. Captain Arnold’s B Company landed on Dog Green and the 5th’s A Company and the HQ boat on Dog White. Other portions of the 5th landed to the east on Dog Red.

Beever’s navigation error likely saved the lives of many of Rudder’s men. Their delay in landing on Pointe du Hoc prevented them from being hit by B-26 bombers, which bombarded the Pointe 20 minutes late (between 6:25 A.M. and 6:45 A.M.) the exact time when Force A was scheduled to land.

Some of the grapnels contained burning fuses, which deterred the Germans from cutting the ropes because they mistook them for explosives.

According to interviews with French civilians living in the area, the Germans had suspended numerous shells in intervals along the cliff face.

In 1944, the coastal road was called GC32. Now, it’s known as D-514.

For over sixty-five years, historians have debated why the Germans failed to man the guns. The most plausible theory is that when the Rangers took out the German forward observation posts, they took out the German eyes on Pointe du Hoc, severing communication with the gun crews. As Small Unit Actions notes, “All that can be stated with assurance is that the Germans were put off balance and disorganized by the combined efforts of the bombardment and assault, to such an extent that they never used the most dangerous battery near the assault beach but left it in position to be destroyed by weak patrols.” The Germans could clearly see Utah Beach. It’s a mystery why they didn’t fire directly on that sector, even without official orders.

Sergeant Rupinski led a patrol from E Company and advanced on the guns from the east. Accounts differ, but besides blowing the ammunition store, his group may have placed grenades in the barrels of the guns after Lomell had already disabled them.

One of the wealthiest men in Dog Company, Schneller, a socialite from New York, had ditched the silver spoon and volunteered for the Rangers.

Maimone and the other Rangers with him began a long odyssey after their capture by the Germans. They were placed in a truck along with a farmer and his daughters who had been taken prisoner. “We were going down the road, and then this English Spitfire comes and attacks the truck. When they made the first pass, one or two guards got out and held a gun on us to keep us in the truck. . . . At the attack, this little girl gets out of the truck and stood right in the middle of the road, and the Spitfire bullet hit her and just killed her instantly. Also, the guard that held us with a rifle was killed. . . . As the [German] sergeant was coming out [of the truck] a .50 hit his head and took the top of his head off. So I went up and dove out of the back of the truck and went to the right, and you could feel the bullets right down by my leg where they were coming by.

“We later kept on walking instead of getting on trucks. We told them, ‘If they’re going to put us in a truck, we’d like to be in an open truck and hold a white flag up showing that we’re prisoners of war. We don’t have a chance in a closed truck, because they’re going to bomb everything that moved.’”

Maimone and the other Rangers were then transported to a prisoner of war camp. Maimone spent the rest of the war there and barely survived—his weight down to less than 100 pounds. When he was hospitalized and receiving vitamin treatment after the war ended, several nurses asked, “Can we take pictures?” The nurses snapped a picture “that was just all bones.”

To this day, the surface of Pointe du Hoc contains several craters caused by explosions at various German ammo dumps that were located on the Pointe.

Raaen later rose to the rank of Major General.

Well into his eighties, Hagg is unusually young looking and appears to be in his late fifties.

In 1942, the very first commander of 1st Ranger Battalion, William O. Darby, had issued the unwritten, inexplicable order that no matter how heroic the deed, no WWII Ranger would ever receive the Medal of Honor. Unfortunately, as a result, many courageous and outstanding actions that merited America’s highest decoration went unrecognized.

When Edlin was seventy-seven years old—an older, wiser man—he reflected upon that moment. “I know what I would do now. I would put the pin back in the grenade and surrender to him. But at that time—I don’t know, nobody knows. No one will ever know. I think now over a cold beer that in my braver moments I would have released that pin. But I don’t know if I would have or not. I very likely would have barricaded the office and killed him and hoped that he would die without a sound.”

Thanks to the dogged persistence of Rudder, who recommended Edlin for the Medal of Honor, the ballsy Texan eventually received the DSC.

After D-Day, Lomell was promoted from first sergeant to sergeant major of the 2nd Ranger Battalion.

True to his word, Rudder ensured that Fate left Dog Company on the furlough. The colonel’s intervention may have saved Fate’s life.

Brilliant and charismatic, Thomae later earned a doctorate and became a prominent German industrialist.

People often confuse the Volksgrenadier Divisions (VGDs) with the Volkssturm, which were the German home guard and militia consisting of young boys and old men. In contrast, the German military leadership conceived the VGDs as a new elite corps of troops that would be equipped with some of the finest weapons in the German arsenal. In reality, their “elite” status never materialized. They were often staffed by former personnel from Luftwaffe and Kriegsmarine units, as well as some experienced NCOs from German army units.

Sixty-seven years later, in April 2012, Tennessee Governor, Lamar Alexander, presented Hoffman’s long overdo Purple Heart. In Lamar’s speech he reminded the audience Hoffman refused the medal during the war: “This year, the Army has awarded Bill a Purple Heart. But not for the first time. During World War II, the Army tried. But Bill, in an Army ward surrounded by soldiers that had lost arms or legs in the fighting, believed that his wounds didn’t measure up and said, “I don’t think so.” The governor fittingly closed his speech in Hoffman’s words, “They say, ‘Ranger friendships are forever.’ It’s true.”

Bill Anderson’s twin brother Jack also served in F Company. A clone of Petty, Anderson was one of the “bravest men of the battalion” and frequently challenged his superiors, one of whom busted him in rank.

It’s possible that the weapons were MP-44 assault rifles because the unit was heavily equipped with that weapon; however, the after-action report states that they were machine pistols.

Lomell recalls, “I took my survivors and went back to Hill 400 in 1989. We met a class from the German Military Academy. We went over their book together. They were awfully nice guys. Their book said that they were outnumbered by us Rangers. [Even decades later,] they did not know that there were so little of us on the hill that survived.”

Addressing the author, Lomell expanded on the point: “Pat, no one ever seems to get this right: we were continually under barrages that rained tons, and I mean tons of shrapnel. It was an enormous amount of artillery that came down on us. No one knew there were tens of thousands of Germans that were hidden there ready and waiting for the Ardennes to launch the Battle of the Bulge. And that was just a few miles up the road from us. No one in Army intelligence or in the Hürtgen Forest knew that there were tens of thousands of Germans massing for the Battle of the Bulge. There were thousands of tanks and battalions of artillery prearranged for the Battle of the Bulge. In just three days before we made this assault, five thousand men from the 5th Armored Division and 8th Division tried to take Hill 400, and they failed—just the day before we launched our attack. You should have seen the mess there. There were burned-out tanks, burned-out trucks—heavy stuff that was burned out. They don’t talk about the Hürtgen Forest. Why? Because there were a lot of mistakes that were made. There were tens of thousands of casualties, including a hell of a death list. The reason that I am saying this is because no one seemed to know where all this artillery came from. And then half of us are gonna get all busted up. And then the Battle of the Bulge breaks out.”

The Ranger after-action report noted Doctor Block’s premonition, “This officer had remarked that morning that he had a premonition that he would not live out this day.”

While recovering from surgery at Valley Forge General Hospital, Lomell spoke at war bond rallies. He was finally discharged from the Army because of his wounds on December 30, 1945.

The strain of war affected even the bravest of men, including Kuhn. “He tried so hard to contain it. He’d get frustrated, and you’d see it,” recalled Ruggiero. Eventually Kuhn overcame his condition and effectively led Dog Company as its first sergeant for the rest of the war.

“Jesus, that scar’s showing even more today!” Ruggiero exclaimed while looking at his nose during the interview for this book.

Later, Ruggiero commented, “I hated to see when little boys dress up in uniform at parades. It reminded me of that experience.” Two boys from his town who dressed up for parades later died in Iraq and Afghanistan.