“Metz,” said General Patton, pointing to a city on his map. “It’s the key to the Saar and the Siegfried Line.”
General Walker, the commanding officer of Patton’s XX Corps, looked at the section of the map that Patton was indicating. Also around the map table were Patton’s staff officers plus the commanders of the Ninety-Fifth Division, the Ninetieth Division, and General Donovan, of the fighting Thirty-third Division Hammerheads.
“For a time,” Patton said, “I had thought we could bypass Metz because it’s a strong, well-fortified position and I knew it could be got only at a high price, but lately I’ve come to the conclusion that we cannot leave that city to our rear because its garrison will be free to harass our supply lines, blow up ammo dumps, stage ambushes, and so forth. Therefore, we’ll have to take the damn place head-on.” He took a deep breath and placed one hand on his hip. “Metz has a rather interesting military history,” he said. “Although many wars have passed around it, it has not been taken by assault since the Huns did it in the year 451 A.D. Many have tried since then, and the city has fallen to siege on numerous occasions, the most recent being during the First World War, but we’ll be the first army in almost sixteen hundred years to take it by force of arms. I don’t know exactly when we’ll attack because so much depends on the weather, but I imagine it will be during the early part of November. The order of battle will be as follows: the 90th will go in on the left, the 95th will go in on the right, and the Hammerheads will go right up the middle. Metz is well defended as far as we know and is protected by numerous natural and man-made obstacles. The Germans know how important the city is, and I suspect they’re waiting for us to come. It won’t be easy, but I want that city.” Patton looked up from the map table and gazed into the eyes of each of them. “I repeat: I want that city!”
~*~
The Hammerheads were replaced on the line by the 110th Division on October 31 and loaded into trucks. They were transported through the mud and pouring rain to a sector of the line not far from Metz, where they dug in and waited for orders to attack.
German spies in the area reported the movement to Armeegruppe G headquarters, as other spies in the Third Army sector reported similar movements. As the reports came in, General Balck realized that a major effort was underway. He called a meeting of his staff officers and local commanders, advising them that the Americans were planning an offensive but expressing optimism that the Americans could be crushed easily. Once again, he repeated to his officers the contention that Patton was inept and his Third Army a joke.
One officer at the meeting didn’t think Patton was inept and the Third Army a joke. He was General Heinrich Freiherr von Luttwitz, who had faced the Third Army in the Falaise Pocket where the Second Panzer Division, which he had commanded at the time, had nearly been wiped off the face of the earth. Now, as commander of the XLVII Panzer Corps, he was responsible for the defense of Metz.
Upon returning to his headquarters, he placed Metz in “Condition Red” and had the city regarrisoned with the 559th Volksgrenadier Division and a makeshift unit called Division Number 462, comprised of fanatical soldiers enrolled in officer and NCO training schools.
Also defending Metz were two replacement infantry battalions, one machine-gun company, one engineer battalion, two antiaircraft battalions, one artillery battalion, four companies of Waffen SS signal-school trainees, some Luftwaffe troops, and the local SS detachment, which was ordered to stop tormenting civilians and prepare to defend Metz to the death.
General von Chevallerie, who commanded the garrison of Metz, was relieved of command because it was felt that he wasn’t aggressive enough. He was replaced by General Otto von Neubacher, who wore a Hitler moustache and had distinguished himself in numerous battles.
When Neubacher took command of Metz, he was pleased to learn that all the approaches to the city had been heavily mined. The Americans would make easy targets for his artillery as they struggled to get through those minefields and he ordered his artillery to zero in on them. He conducted an extensive inspection of the city, moving troops around and ordering the construction of special strongholds and bunkers.
Like Patton, Neubacher was aware of the history of Metz, that it had not been taken by assault since A.D. 451. One day, while standing on the roof of the tallest building in the city, he studied his fortifications through binoculars and decided that Metz probably wouldn’t be taken by assault again for another sixteen hundred years, certainly not for as long as he remained commander of the garrison there.
~*~
A patrol from the Twenty-eighth Regiment of the Hammerhead Division wandered into a minefield one night, setting off three Bouncing Betties and killing three of the soldiers. The explosions made trigger-happy Germans think the attack was beginning, and they opened up with everything they had on the section of the minefield where they’d seen the flashes of light.
In the ensuing minutes, hell rained down on that part of the minefield, killing three more of the soldiers. But two managed to escape and report back to their headquarters. That’s how the existence of the minefields became known among the American commanders, and a plan was devised so that when the bombardment of Metz was to begin, some of the artillery pieces were to aim at the minefield and blow up as many of the mines as possible.
On November 1, the offensive was ready to begin but was held in abeyance for clear weather so that air support could be provided. The days passed, and the weather did not improve. Finally, Patton decided to go ahead without air support. He ordered that the attack begin on the morning of November 8 no matter what.
The soldiers prepared for battle and prayed that the rain would stop, but it didn’t. On the evening of November 7, Patton was pacing the floor in his headquarters near the front when there was a knock on the door.
“Come in!” he said.
The door opened, and Generals Eddy and Grow entered the room. They were the commanders of the Ninth Infantry and Sixth Armored Divisions, respectively, two old war dogs who’d been in the army for most of their lives.
“Sir,” said Eddy, “is the offensive still on?”
Patton looked at him as though he were mad. “Of course it’s still on!” he bellowed.
“But, sir,” protested Grow, “we can’t attack in weather like this!”
“Oh, yes, we can!” Patton retorted.
“The rivers are swollen, and we won’t have air support. It’ll be a disaster.”
Patton looked at both of them angrily. “The attack will go off as scheduled! If you don’t want to lead your troops, tell me now and I’ll relieve you of command!”
“Sir,” said Eddy, “we urge you to reconsider. Weather like this can stop an attack worse than enemy resistance.”
“I’ll say it once more, and that will be all!” Patton replied. “The attack will go off as scheduled! Are you gentlemen in or out!”
Eddy and Grow looked at each other and realized that they couldn’t change Patton’s mind.
“I’m in,” said Eddy.
“Me, too,” added Grow.
“Then get the hell back where you belong!” Patton told them.
~*~
In Charlie Company, Mahoney sat in a foxhole filled with mud and water, shivering and smoking a cigarette. He couldn’t sleep as always before a big attack, and neither could Cranepool, who was in the foxhole with him. They looked up at the sky and could see a few stars through the clouds, but it still was raining, anyway, although not as heavily as earlier.
They didn’t speak because they had nothing to talk about. The details of the attack had been hashed over a hundred times, and they both knew what to do. The artillery preparation would begin at five o’clock in the morning and would destroy, among other things, the minefield directly in front of them. Then they’d cross the minefield and approach the section of the Moselle River directly in front of Metz. They’d cross the river in boats, and on the other side they’d land directly in the city. Then they’d begin to capture it building by building. Everything would be easier if they had air support, but they didn’t, so they’d have to do the best they could.
When 0500 hours came, the artillery bombardment didn’t begin.
“Maybe the attack’s been called off,” Cranepool said.
“Maybe,” Mahoney replied.
They puffed their cigarettes and wondered what had happened.