In early February 1945, our outfit, the 58th Armored Infantry Battalion, moved northward to the front near Maastricht, Holland taking over from a British 7th Armoured unit. Our patrol, consisting of seven men, held a lookout in an old stone house which had been partially demolished by previous shelling. In a house nearby, we found a piano which was pretty well covered by debris, but eventually it was uncovered enough so someone could knock out a tune when the Germans were not lobbing shells over. Our position was on the north edge of the town of Echt, overlooking the Meuse River and the Juliana Canal, and the countryside to the north. During the week at this location, we occasionally saw indications of the enemy beyond. From nightly patrols, we learned that a German Para Division held that sector.

One day in February, probably February 25th, orders came out that we were to advance on toward the city of Roermond, commencing the next morning. Our immediate objective was toward the town of Merum. During the night, our forces bombed Roermond while we viewed the explosion and fires from our vantage point some eight miles away.

In the early morning, our Company C, as part of the 58th Armored Infantry Battalion moved into the enemy held territory through fields and along roadways from one building to the next. Our people were all on foot, and for some unknown reason, it seemed to me that all of the 8th Armored Division's hundreds of tanks and artillery guns were somewhere else.

In the first quarter mile or so of advance, there was enemy rifle and machine gun fire. Before it was light enough to see, the first sergeant was killed, the platoon sergeant was wounded, and there were several other casualties.

As we moved ahead, there was a railroad embankment on the left and we knew that there were German snipers on the other side. We were told to keep them under fire.

My good friend Marlin Jones and I found a small trench cut into the side of the railroad embankment which was much higher than the surrounding landscape. Initially, we tossed a few grenades over the tracks to the opposite side. Then we took turns standing up quickly to look over the rails, glancing out for a moment to the fields beyond for signs of the enemy, shooting off a clip of rounds with our rifles at any likely target, and then ducking down into the trench. Jones and I were elbow to elbow. After about three times, it was Marlin's turn and he rose up and shot off a couple of quick rounds. Suddenly, I heard a thud, and Jones helmet flew off and he collapsed against my shoulder. There was a hole in his forehead where a sniper's bullet had gone through him. I shouted for a medic corpsman. With help, we dragged him out of the trench to level ground. Within minutes my buddy Jones was dead.

Later in the day, we crossed the railroad track under fire and through barbed wire over to a house which was a German observation point. Here, another friend was shot in the head and killed and another was hit in the leg. After awhile, a single tank was brought up, and after shooting around, four German soldiers pushed up their white flags and surrendered.

Toward evening, each patrol held a building on the perimeter of our meager advance. During the following night, under cover of darkness, we pulled back to Echt and another outfit took over the hard won ground. In this short engagement, there were fifteen casualties out of the one hundred and forty men of C Company.

Excerpt from Memoirs of Walter Thorpe, Company C, 58th Armored Infantry Battalion, 1989