Unternehmen: Wacht Am Rhein

My father was in the Battle of the Bulge. Jokes about expanding waistlines notwithstanding, this was the bloodiest battle in American history, even topping Gettysburg where the casualties on both sides counted as American. It came near the end of Hitler's regime in WWII, and took place in the frozen Ardennes forest in Belgium, during the coldest winter in 50 years. And it lasted a month and a half.

My father never talked much about it, at least not to me. Maybe I was too young. Or maybe it was too painful to remember. But as an adult who has done some reading about this battle, I now realize some of what he must have gone through, and it wasn't good. Four thinly-spread American divisions found themselves in a surprise assault that threw them into the teeth of 30 German divisions from four armies. Among these soldiers were members of the elite Waffen SS, the finest troops that Hitler had. My father was in the 2nd Infantry Division, tasked with stopping the German 6th SS Panzer Army at Elsenborn Ridge, which they did.

When it was over, there were more than 76,000 US casualties. Germany suffered at least twice that many. The result was that the German armies were devastated and they never recovered. The European war went on for another grueling four months as the US entered Germany and the Soviets destroyed the Wehrmacht on the Eastern Front, but after The Bulge, the German defeat was inevitable.