At the 2005 family reunion Uncle Phil told a story that took place during his time in Europe as a soldier in WW II. My cousins said it was the first time they ever heard him speak of the war. This story took place in the latter days of the war. Uncle Phil was leading a platoon (25?) of infantry on a patrol. They were formed up in a skirmish line with roughly half the men strung out on his right and the other half on his left. (I had to look up “skirmish line”. That is why I spend so much time describing it!) The platoon was approaching a hill with a long ridgeline such that the entire platoon would crest the ridgeline at the same time. His platoon was mostly comprised of young boys from Kentucky and Tennessee whose roots might best be described as rural. From their childhoods they were all well familiar with the ways of hunting and fishing.
So as Uncle Phil tells it, this platoon of outdoorsmen is strung out wide and simultaneously approaching the ridgeline of this hill when a rabbit foolishly runs across the length of the ridgeline in the line of fire of the entire platoon. It was too much temptation for these veteran hunters to resist. They all wanted to be the guy who shot the rabbit. The entire platoon opened up on the rabbit and used every round in every rifle except Uncle Phil’s. Uncle Phil said the firing was so undisciplined and hurried that it sounded like several companies (hundreds) of men were engaged in an intense firefight. I don’t recall whether or not they hit the rabbit.
As the platoon simultaneously crested the ridgeline, likely with great laughter, but with all of their rifles empty except for Uncle Phil’s, and nobody thinking to reload BEFORE cresting the ridgeline, they came upon an entire company (about 100) of German soldiers camped on the other side of the hill. Uncle Phil's platoon was outnumbered 4 to 1, but the German soldiers did not know that the platoon was basically unloaded. The German soldiers also did not know it was only a platoon approaching them. What the German soldiers did know is that it sounded and looked like this was the advance force of several companies of men coming at them from the other side of the hill, not just an unloaded platoon, so the German soldiers threw arms up in surrender!
Uncle Phil told this story with great amusement. He thought he and his platoon were pretty lucky that day. I would have to agree with him, but still, it is a funny story.
This would have been sometime between late Aug 1944, when he took over a platoon of the "Blue Ridge Mountain Boys", and 18 Jan 1945 when he received a major shrapnel wound and was sent back to the States in a hospital ship.
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