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"Inform your men - let them get what sleep they can - wake up call at 05:00 – 'K' rations - no fires - 'kitchen' will bring up hot coffee - post your guards - perimeter defense - any questions?"

I check my watch. I haven't slept for 26 hours, not since before we were at Imloh.

"Oh, yes, gentlemen, one last thing. Officers are not to sleep."

It starts to rain.

The half-tracks are posted at strategic points around the farm houses. Two men in each vehicle serve guard duty - one hour shifts. When not on guard, the men sleep in their bed rolls, or try to, wherever they can, inside a building, or perhaps under the vehicle, but never on its floor. Half-tracks are mobile fox holes lined with 1/4 inch steel plates. Steel is cold, very cold.

Few of the men are really sleeping. Some are talking softly in small groups. Some are writing home, hunched over a 'blackout' flashlight and some are reading bibles. One young G.I. stands alone, looking into the darkness toward Dorsten. You walk from group to group, a word here, a question there. Each group has the latest 'poop' straight from the captain, or, at least, straight from the mail clerk who is the unofficial father of all rumors.

Whispered voices ask:

"Hey, lieutenant, is it true that the Germans. ...... ?"

"Lieutenant, are we really going to ......."

"Lieutenant, do you suppose we will ever ......?"

You leave the groups and join, Pfc James Brazell standing beside a tree looking through the darkness toward Dorsten. Talk isn't necessary, only when it can improve the silence. Finally, in his still adolescent voice he whispers,

"Lieutenant, are you scared .... too?"

The rain has stopped.

Wake up call wasn't necessary. A jeep with a small trailer delivered the hot coffee. Breakfast was soon over. Extra ammunition was issued while the men continued to 'dry run' their weapons. Bed rolls, back packs and duffel bags were stowed in the half-tracks which were then driven to the 'rear' to be out of the way of expected counter artillery fire. By 05:45 we had taken our position along the drainage canal hidden by the heavy growth of willows. We were ready and waiting.