The Hardin tribune-herald. [volume] (Hardin, Mont.) 1925-1973, 1944-11-16
collection Of ships that lay out
there waiting to unload.
By Ernie Pyle

collection Of ships that lay out
there waiting to unload.
Looking from the bluff, it lay
thick and clear to the far horizon of
the e and on beyond, and it
spread out to the sides and was
miles wide. Its utter enormity
would move the hardest man.
AS I stood up there I noticed a
group Of freshly taken German pris-
oners standing nearby. They had
not yet been put in the prison cage.
They were just standing there,
a couple Of doughboys leisurely
guarding them with Tommy guns.
The prisoners too were looking
out to seattle same bit of sea that
for months and years had been
so safely empty before their gaze.
They didn't say a word to
each other. They didn't need to.
The expression on their faces
was something forever unfor-
gettable. In 1t was the final hor-
rifed acceptance of their doom.
If only all Germany could have
had the rich experience of
standing on the bluff and looking
out across the water and seeing
what their cempatriots saw.
The hospital was in our hands,
but just barely. On up the street a
block there seemed to be fighting.
I say seemed to be, because actually
you can't always tell. Street fight
ing is just as confusing as field
fighting.
One side will bang away for a
while, then the other side. Between
these sallies there are long lulls.
with only stray and isolated shots.
Just an occasional soldier is sneak
ing about, and you don't see any
thing Of the enemy at all. You can't
tell half the time just what the stu
alton is. and neither can the SOL
diers.
About a block beyond the
hospital entrance two American
tanks sitting in the middle
of the street, one about so yards
ahead of the other. I walked to-
ward them. Our infantrymen
were in doorways along the
street.
I got within about so feet Of our
front tank when it let 60 its 75-mil-
limeter gun. The blast was terrific
there in the narrow street. Glass
came tinkling down from nearby
windows, smoke pulled around the
tank, and the empty street was shak-
ing and trembling with the concus-
sion.
As the tank continued to shoot I
ducked into a doorway, because I
figured the Germans would shoot
back. Inside the doorway there was
a sort of street-level cellar, dirt
foored. Apparently there was a
wine shop above, for the cellar was
stacked with wire crates for hold
ing wine bottles on their sides,
There were lots of bottles, but they
were all empty.
I went back to the doorway
and stood peeking out at the
tank. It started backing up.
Then suddenly a yellow fame
pierced the bottom Of the tank
and there was a crash of such
intensity that l automatically
blinked my eyes. The tank,
hardly so feet from where 1 was
standing, had been hit by an en-
envy shell.
A second shot ripped the pave
ment at the side of the tank. There
was smoke all around, but the tank
didn't catch fire. In a moment the
crew came boiling out of the tur-
ret.
Grim as it was, I almost had to
laugh as they ran toward us. I have
never seen men run SO violently.
They ran all over, with arms and
heads going up and down and with
marathon : race grimaces. They
plunged into my doorway.
l spent the next excited hour with
them. We changed to another door.
way and sat on boxes in the empty
hallway. The floor and steps were
thick with blood where a soldier
had been treated within the hour.
What had happened to the tank
was this: They had been firing
away at a pillbox ahead when their
rs b%ackfred. filling the tank with
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