Silence in the Records, Chaos on the Ground
There are times in research when what is not written is just as important as what is.
As I worked through my father Bruce Glover’s morning reports
for Company G, 393rd Infantry Regiment, I focused on five days, December 16
through December 20, 1944. These dates mark the opening of what would become
known as the Battle of the Bulge.
What I found, at first glance, was almost nothing.
The entries for December 16, 17, 18, and 19 all read the same: no change or no event.
Four days of silence in the official record.
And yet, those four days were anything but quiet.
On December 16, 1944, German forces launched a massive
surprise offensive through the Ardennes, along the border of Belgium and
Germany. It was a last major attempt to push back the Allied advance. Units
were hit with overwhelming force, communication broke down, and confusion
spread quickly across the lines.
My father was there.
In the only account he left of that moment, he wrote:
"On the morning of December 16, 1944 all hell broke loose on the border between Belgium and Germany and especially in the Ardennes where the German forces launched a huge last gasp counterattack against the allied forces. All I remember is hearing guns, mortars, and artillery shells exploding all around us. The closest I ever got to this battle which became known as the “Battle of the Bulge” was having pieces of shrapnel landing in the fox hole beside me, but miraculously did not receive a scratch. I never actually saw a German soldier, but there was confusion everywhere. Less than a quarter mile to the right of our company the Germans broke through our lines. My good buddy, Bill Fisher, was in that company and was captured and became a prisoner of war."
While the morning reports show “no change,” his words tell a
completely different story.
For four days, there were no recorded changes in status. No
transfers. No hospitalizations. Nothing that required administrative notation.
But those entries do not reflect the reality on the ground.
The 393rd Infantry Regiment, part of the 99th Infantry
Division, was positioned near Elsenborn Ridge, a critical defensive position in
the opening phase of the Battle of the Bulge. While German forces broke through
in nearby areas, the stand at Elsenborn helped prevent a deeper advance.
The fighting was intense. The weather was bitterly cold.
Snow, mud, and constant exposure took a toll on the men as much as the enemy
did.
It is within this context that I read those four days of “no
change.”
No administrative change does not mean no action. It likely
means there was no time to record anything beyond the essentials. The focus was
survival, holding the line, and responding to a rapidly changing situation.
Then comes December 20, 1944.
The silence breaks.
The morning report finally records a change, and it is my father’s name:
Glover, Bruce D. 36560921 Pfc 746
From dy to sk LD 2d Evacuation Hosp Sta Location Unknown NBC Slight trench foot Dec 17 44 per Sect II cir 69 Hq ETOUSA RELD FROM ASGMT SSN 746
Here is an expanded transcription:
From duty to sick in line of duty to the 2nd Evacuation Hospital Station, location unknown.
Non-battle casualty. Condition: slight trench foot.
Dated December 17, 1944, per Section II, Circular 69, Headquarters, European Theater of Operations, United States Army.
Relieved from assignment, Secondary Service Number 746 (My note: Military Occupational Specialty 746, Automatic Rifleman).
In a few lines, the official record catches up to what had been building over the previous days.
His own words explain what led to that moment:
"A couple of days later our company regrouped and the
medics inspected us for any injuries. They asked me to take off my boots which
I did not want to do because I had a feeling if I did, I might not get them
back on. When I finally removed them, my feet were swollen and discolored. That
is when they sent me to the rear."
After days of cold, wet conditions, constant exposure, and
little relief, his body had reached its limit.
When I place these two sources side by side, the official
record and my father’s memory, a fuller story begins to emerge. One tells me
what happened. The other tells me what it felt like.
Those four days of “no change” are no longer empty. They are
filled with the sound of artillery, the confusion of a nearby breakthrough, the
loss of a friend to capture, and the slow physical toll of cold and exposure.
My father rarely spoke about his time in World War II. Even
though he later taught high school history, he did not share these experiences,
as his former students told me after his death.
Years later, when he did speak of it, he told me he never
really felt that he had contributed.
I think about that now as I read these records. I see where
he was. I see what he endured in those first days of the Battle of the Bulge. I
see how close he came to injury, and how the conditions themselves took him out
of the line.
History does not always measure contribution the same way
those who lived it do. To me, being there, holding the line, enduring those
conditions, and surviving them is contribution enough.
For me, these five days represent more than a timeline. They
show how history is recorded and how it is lived.
The morning reports give structure to the past.
My father’s words give it life.
In the next post, I will take a closer look at the unit reports from these same days and what they reveal about what Company G experienced during this time.
Golden Arrow Research
For this research, I worked with Geoff at Golden Arrow Research, who assisted in documenting my father’s World War II military history, including locating and compiling the morning reports used in this post. His work provided the foundation that allowed me to focus on understanding and sharing my father’s experience. More information about his services can be found at https://www.goldenarrowresearch.com/
AI Disclosure
This post was researched and written by me as part of my ongoing work to understand my father’s WWII service. I used ChatGPT 5.2 to assist with title suggestions, proofreading, transcription of the morning report images, and defining abbreviations. All content has been carefully reviewed, edited, and reflects my own research and interpretation.
No comments:
Post a Comment