Bravest Act on the Axis Side.

I have a copy of that script book.....i can recite the entire movie, i've seen it that many times....the only comedy film that has you laughing at the titles and credits!

 

I have a copy of that script book.....i can recite the entire movie, i've seen it that many times....the only comedy film that has you laughing at the titles and credits!
The opening titles are brilliant, Christos ,for sure!! :p

 

I noted the bravery from Axis, where seems many of them out of desperation,.. instead of opportunity,.. like the kamikazes etc, except on the earlier stage of the war,..

read about one SS sturmann, Fritz Christen manned his battery alone, able to put a halt one entire soviet division, and managed to defeat a dozen soviet tanks and took about 100 soviet soldiers, before he was finally relieved. He was then awarded knight cross by Hitler personnally.

I am rather quite curious on his pursuing careers after that.

 

"The Ordeal of Fighter Ace Saburo Sakai" posted by JT is just amazing. Goes to show what the human mind is capable of achieving in the face of death.Good Post JT.

 

Friedrich Lengfeld, 11/12/1944, Wilde Sau Minefield, Hurtgen Forest

In the October 22, 1995 issue of "The Arizona Republic" newspaper, Steve Wilson wrote the following article:

One of the longest, bloodiest and least publicized battles of World War II was fought in the dense fir trees along the German - Belgian border called the Hürtgen Forest.

Thirty thousand Americans were killed or wounded in six months of fighting that began in September 1944 and lasted far into the bitter winter. Thousands more were disabled by combat fatigue and exposure. An estimated 12,000 Germans were killed.

"Whoever survived Hürtgenwald must have had a guardian angel on each of his shoulders, " wrote Ernest Hemmingway, who covered the battle for Collier's magazine.

One soldier who got out alive is retired Major Gen. John F. Ruggles of Phoenix, 86. He was then a Lieutenant Colonel serving with the 22nd Infantry Regiment.

Last year (1994) to mark the battle's 50th anniversary, Ruggles organized an effort among veterans of the Regiment to place a monument in the forest.

It's a very different monument. Unlike other World War II tributes, this one doesn't honor our own soldiers. This one honors an unheralded act of humanity by a 23 year old German Infantry Lieutenant.

Ruggles wasn't interested in media attention last year, and the monuments dedication received no news coverage in this country. But a friend recently convinced him that others would like to hear the story, so last week he talked about it.

On November 12, 1944, Lt. Friedrich Lengfeld was commanding a beleaguered German rifle company. Like most units on both sides, he had suffered heavy casualties.

Early that morning, a wounded American could be heard calling from the middle of a German minefield in a no man's land separating the combatants.

"Help me" the man cried. His unit had withdrawn , however, and no U.S. troops were close enough to hear.

Lengfeld ordered his men not to shoot if Americans came to rescue the man. But none came. The soldiers weakening voice was heard for hours.

"Help me" he called, again and again. At about 10:30 that morning, Lengfeld could bear the cries no longer. He formed a rescue squad, complete with Red Cross vests and flags, and led his men toward the wounded American.

He never made it. Approaching the soldier, he stepped on a land mine, and the exploding metal fragments tore deeply into his body. Eight hours later Lengfeld is dead. The fate of the American is unknown.

Much of this story, unpublished in any American books on the war, is based on the eyewitness account of Hubert Gees, who served as Lengfeld's communications runner.

Speaking at the monument's dedication in Germany last October, Gees said : " Lieutenant Lengfeld was one of the best soldiers of the Hürtgen Forest. He was an exemplary company commander, who never asked us to do more than he himself was ready to give. He possessed the complete confidence of his soldiers.

Ruggles said Lengfeld's sense of duty went far beyond the call. " You can't go to any greater extreme than to give your life trying to rescue someone you are fighting as your enemy in war " he said. " Compare that to the indifference most people feel about each other today."

The bronze and concrete monument is believed to be the only one placed by Americans in a German military cemetery. In both German and English, the plaque reads :

Here in the Hürtgen Forest, on Nov. 12, 1944, Lt. Friedrich Lengfeld, a German officer, gave his life while trying to save the life of an American soldier lying severely wounded in the 'Wilde Sau' minefield and appealing for medical aid."

To the young Lieutenant, the voice crying out that day did not come from an enemy. Nor from an American, nor a stranger. It came from a human being in need. Something inside Lengfeld compelled him to act - a feeling so strong and enduring not even the madness of war could block it.

In the heavy silence of the German forest, where thousands upon thousands met death, that glorious impulse for life is now honored.





Sources: Arizona Republic, Wiki, Myself :p

 

Just reading about this now Emerson, Good post and a touching story indeed. Just shows that humanity can transcend war.

 

Bravest act on the axis side.
Chamberlain in Munich??

 

I think it was SS Unterscharfuhrer Emil Durr. KIA on the 27 June 1944.
The following story is quoted verbatim from Hubert Meyers divisional history of the 12. SS-Panzerdivision "Hitlerjugend". It is the story of Emil Dürr, gun commander of Panzerabwehrzug/4. Kompanie/I. Batallion/SS-Panzergrenadierregiment 26. It is the story of courage. "The tank has to go"
They had carried him from the burning house, which the enemy tank guns had picked as their target in the St. Manvieu park, to a hollow under the old shady trees. There he lay, both thighs wrapped in makeshift dressings, quite and withdrawn. His blue eyes clear and calm, his lips pale, pressed together in pain. His comrades stood around him. They would have liked to do something to help him through those last moments he had to live. But there was nothing to do or say. Yes-he only had moments to live. Sighing, the medic had turned away from him, the dressings dripping with unstoppable blood...Did he know that he had to die?
The Kompanie commander asked him if he had a wish. Yes-please lift his head a little. If only they had a pillow to offer him a soft headrest-but there was only a gas mask which they carefully pushed under his head.
The guns of the enemy tanks surrounding the park sent shell after shell, without pause, into the tree covered terrain. The gable of the house in which the Bataillon command post was located, blew apart with a bang. The beams were smoldering. Here and there the dry ground, set afire by the searing tongues of the flame thrower tanks, was burning. Smoke and dust were creeping through the trees to the hollow. A fine rain drizzled with hopeless monotony on the leaves.
The wounded man turned his head a little. He sought to see something. But he only spotted the smoke, the fumes, and the clouds of dust. "You must not let them into the park", he said. He spoke calmly, as if there was nothing to worry about for him. Then he asked for a cigarette. Many hands were extended towards him. He smiled. Yes-the comrades-they knew he was about to begin a long journey, but they did not sense that he, too, knew it.
He smoked, composed, as was his manner. He held the cigarette in his right hand, black with Norman soil, a few blood stains on the crust of dirt. His hand, too, was steady, eerily so. His left caressingly stroked the grass on which he was bedded. Under this grass, he would soon be sleeping, sleeping forever...
"There is nothing behind us", he said. "You must hold on until they have a new line behind us..." He seemed to want to say more as his lips continued to move, but no words were formed. His left hand gripped the grass more firmly as if it was looking for a hold... "Give my love to my wife", he said. "And the little one...take care of them...And do not be sad-there is nothing sad."
Then the cigarette dropped from his hand. He closed his eyes. Once more he breathed, deep and heavy. Then the blood stopped, as did his heart. His comrades took off their helmets and instinctively folded their hands. And tears were running down quite a few cheeks. They were not ashamed in front of each other.
Heavier and heavier, the shells from the tanks hammered the park. The beams of the house were splintering, bricks were flying from the park wall. The earth was trembling. In the early morning hours of 26 June 1944, while the sun was still resting behind the Norman hills, the English barrages had set in. For almost three hours they laid salvo after salvo on the line of main defense outside the village of St. Manvieu and on the village itself. And on the grenadiers of I.Bataillon of a Regiment of the SS panzderdivision "Hitlerjugend", which had been awaiting the major enemy offensive on the Carpiquet airfield and on the Orne river for days now, in front of the gates of Caen. Foxholes were filled in, machineguns were smashed, men were mercilessly ripped apart. Ammunition depots blew apart, telegraph posts tumbled with hollow screams, and wires ripped singing across the roads...Houses caught on fire, gables came crashing down. The earth moaned with it's wounds, dug into the ground in countless numbers. When, three hours later, the enemy guns fell quiet and only shrapnels were whirling and howling through the air, enemy tanks advanced through the smoke and , the stench, and the fog. They broke through the positions and overran St. Manvieu. Like a pack of hungry wolves they surrounded the park. The handfull of men in the Bataillon command post could count 15 Shermans, with there naked eyes. They were sitting in front of the wall which enclosed one side of the park, and in the grain field on the other side.
Whoever had arms left to fight was sent into action in the park, messengers, clerks, orderlies. If they roll over the bridge thought the Grenadiers, if they break through the walls, if they push into the park-well, then it would be over. Then the battered Bataillon would lose it's leadership, the cornstone of the uneven battle would be overthrown. Then the desired English breakthrough would succeed, because that is what they wanted-to break through here, to the Orne river, to the last undamaged bridge near St. Andrè, to reach the road Caen-Falaise, to encircle Caen from the south. The Bataillon command post had suddenly become an important bastion-and it had no heavy weapons. They had sub-machineguns and rifles. They had Panzerfausts and Magnetic explosives. And only a hand full of men. This could only have a minor effect against a few dozen tanks. Minor effect? Who could predict it?
And they had Unterscharführer Dürr. But no one could forsee the outcome at this critical hour. The young, blond haired Unterscharführer himself did not know of it...
But two mortars were still sitting in the park, massive and mighty. And their crews had twenty five shells left. These they fired among the tanks, into this corner and that. The shells exploded with bangs and caused confusion. Sharp shooters crept to the hedges and wall ledges and fired at the commanders who came out of there hatches too soon.
Some of the tanks turned away. They assumed that the forces in the park were much stronger and did not dare to break through. But the calm did not last long, the tanks returned and fired from all barrels. They picked the house as their target and damaged it so badly that the wounded had to be carried out.
Then, suddenly, ther was a shout of alarm within the doggedly defending troop. A flame thrower tank had set up at the entrance to the park, dominating the path to the command post, and able to harass any movement. "That tank has to go", the commander ordered. He said it as he was walking by, he had no time to stop. He was needed out there with his men, here and there and everywhere.
Unterscharführer Dürr had heard the order. He did not hesitate. "I'll go", he said, and was gone. He took a Panzerfaust and went to scout the situation. It was difficult to get close to the tank. It was sitting in a postition that dominated the terrain on all three sides. Unterscharführer Dürr did not calculate for long. He jumped across the inner wall of the yard and ran straight at the tank. But the Panzerfaust did not pierce the tank. Maybe he did not aim accurately in his excitement.
Then Dürr felt a blow to the chest, and immediately a warm substance was running down his thighs. Hit! Shot in the chest!
Angry, Dürr pulled himself up and ran back the path he had come. He picked up another Panzerfaust and ran up to the tank a second time. This time, since the distance was unfavorable, he aimed at the tracks. The tank rattled, the track ripped. But again, Dürr was covered by violent machinegun fire. Crawling, he worked his way back. With one jump he scaled the wall, out of the range of fire. He spotted a magnetic charge and quickly grabbed it. A comrade wanted to hold him back:"your bleeding..."
Dürr did not let himself be stopped. The tank had to go........
For a third time he had set out on his dangerous journey. For the third time, already quite weakened, he jumped across the wall. He ran, stumbling, toward the tank, paying no attention to the bullets. Now he was very close, one more jump-attached the charge-He was about to get away when he heard a rumbling sound behind him-the charged had dropped to the ground...
Not even seconds were left for him to consider, no time to comtemplate his duty, desires, wishes...the tank had to go-And once again he was at the Flame thrower tank like a flash. He grabbed the charge with a strong fist, pressed it against the tank, staggered once, pushed, gasping, against the diabolic dynamite...
Then came the bang-flickering fire, flames, darkness in front of his eyes....
As he hit the ground, he saw that the tank was burning. He wanted to jump up- but he could not, as if paralyzed he lay on the ground. He tried it once more, felt a stabbing pain in his thighs...he looked down at his bleeding legs and his heart turned cold with shock...
Was it desperation which gave him superhuman strength now? He crawled back down the path, now open, to the command post. The comrades spotted him, pulled him in, took him to the medic. Four hours later his life came to a end. Not a word of complaint had come across his lips.
"You must not let them into the park", he said.
And he calmly smoked a cigeratte as if he was saying goodbye to his comrades before going on a extended leave. They were silently standing around him, watching this brave man slide into immortality...Over his grave the commander awarded him the Knights Cross to the Iron Cross-as the first non-commissioned officer of the 12. SS-Panzerdivision "Hitlerjugend"...
And beyond his grave shines the absolute readiness of this absolute soldier"

 

Gotthard -
not sure if I would put Wittman up for bravery - if any British Tank man was told to stop an attack by SIX Tiger Tanks in 1944 - he would do it knowing full well that he had been given a very small chance of surviving.

However had he been given the same order to stop an attack by a bunch of Sherman's even the much vaunted Firefly's plus half tracks - soft skinned lorries etc - but you can ONLY have SIX Tigers - then he would have welcomed that order without a qualm - and would probably have done exactly as Wittman did !
Cheers

 

Talking about armoured/tank crews, would not the Italian armoured crews from the North African theatre be considered for this thread?

Knowing that their vehicles were not up to the standard of their German allies in withstanding Commonwealth anti-tank weapons, but still attacking (such as at Alamein) with all their determination not to let their side down?

Just a thought!

Mace

oops, surly

 

Gotthard -
not sure if I would put Wittman up for bravery - if any British Tank man was told to stop an attack by SIX Tiger Tanks in 1944 - he would do it knowing full well that he had been given a very small chance of surviving.

However had he been given the same order to stop an attack by a bunch of Sherman's even the much vaunted Firefly's plus half tracks - soft skinned lorries etc - but you can ONLY have SIX Tigers - then he would have welcomed that order without a qualm - and would probably have done exactly as Wittman did !
Cheers
Fair point Tom, well made!!

 

Good point Mace (and welcome aboard).
The very act of taking an M13 to war requires some level of courage, and their AT gunners that stood by their posts until near complete destruction at Alamein get a fair few honourable mentions from their Allied opponents & Axis comrades.
Nice quote from rommel:

"The German soldier has impressed the world. However the Italian Bersaglieri soldier has impressed the German soldier" (?).
Translated version of http://www.ardito2000.it/ELALAMEIN2.html

Cheers,
Adam.
You've spotted a rare quote their mate, Rommel praising his Italian Allies. Normally he was quite contemptuous of their ability.

 

Mace -
By the same token - ALL British Tank crews knew they were not equipped to fight off the German Tanks - 88mm's - Special 75's - but still fought on - making one 3rd RTR Corporal to claim that it was the 3rd vs the 3rd as always - when asked to explain he replied - 3rd Tanks vs the 3rd Riech !
Cheers

 

Hi Tom,

Very true, and can be added RAF and USAF Bomber crews over Germany, the Australians at Alamein, the Polish, Indians and Gurkha's at Cassino, the 14th Army in the jungles of Burma, the merchant crews on the Artic convoy's ......... we would be totally shattered by the bravery of everyone from the artic through to the pacific. But I understood the discussion to be on bravery within the Axis forces. Hope you understand.

 

Mace -
I understand perfectly but I am not one to subscribe to the new theory that the enemy was any better than the Allies according to many revisionists as mainly after '42 at least, they were in defensive positions with superior weapons - and the allies - as attackers were always in a situation akin to a platoon of infantry trying to overcome a defensive bastion such as Gibralter for example.

I have a very hard time in giving credit to an enemy - character flaw I would assume !

I am astounded that Rommel gave so much credit to the Bersagrieli as the Italian Artillery served him better - they were first class and close to our RA. !
Cheers

 

Hi Guys,
My penneth, well bravery comes in many forms, I remember my grandfather telling me a story of how once they were in a firefight, 3rd Kings own Hussars in North Africa, they were scrapping with the Germans, when the firefight was over, they advanced and as they come upon the knocked out wreckage of one of their Recce Armoured cars, there was a German soldier giving treatment to a wounded British Soldier, and he refused to be moved from the british soldier untill he had finished treating his wounds, my grandfather said he will never know if the german stayed behind out of compasion for a wounded man, or if he "Wanted" to be captured, but it still didnt alter the fact that any of the british soldiers could have shot this uniformed german on site........ as for myself, I think one of the bravest of the Axis Soldiers was Von Staufenberg.