This letter was written by a soldier, Joseph Capone, who had been with my grandfather’s brother when he was mortally wounded in Germany during WWII. The letter, dated January 12, 1947, was sent to my great-grandmother, whose name at that time was Margaret Neihoff (her first husband was Joseph O’Neill).

Dear Mrs. Neihoff:

I am so very glad that you obtained my name and address and wrote to me in reference to your son. Believe me, I certainly was enthralled to hear from you. I have made it my duty and obligation to contact all next of kin of those comrades of mine. You were one of those up to now I had not been able to locate. I plan to some day contact all personally. I have been unsuccessful thus far because of wounds that have paralyzed my legs and have made it impossible for me to start my trek across the country to give a first hand report to those mothers and kin of their valiant dead.

You have asked me not to spare your feelings and that you will rest better if you know what happened to Sgt. O’Neill. Believe me, Mrs. Niehoff, I can tell you exactly what happened and some day in the future you can rest assured that I shall make it my duty to mark North Olmsted, Ohio on my list as a stop-off point and relate to you personally the exact conditions that transpired during your son’s overseas service. It is rather difficult to put down in words exactly what I wish to relate, however, I shall try.

Your son came overseas as a replacement after the conclusion of the division’s initial combat through Brest, Belgium and Holland. These campaigns took a period of two months. We were relieved in Holland and sent to Aschen where we relieved the 1st Division. Your son was attached here to E Company, 415 Infantry, 104th Division. However, it wasn’t until three weeks later that I came to know him when he came over to my squad. Norbert, when assigned to E Company had the rating of Buck Sergeant. However, it was the policy of the Division not to push Non-com replacements into their duties until they had familiarized themselves with these duties from the bottom. This was a very wise precaution because it is an extremely precarious situation to come into the front lines a green man and expect to take over a job you may know very little about. However, after three weeks of initial combat baptism, Norbert came over to my squad to fill the vacancy of assistant squad leader when the assistant squad leader took over as squad leader. The squad leader was killed in the assault on Stolberg.

From the day Norbert came to E Company we were continually in the assault for it was the 104th Division that was spearheading the First Armies drive into the heart of Germany. It was through this bitter fighting that your son and I became close friends, for we not only fought together, but dug in together, slept together, and ate together. i can truthfully say that I was closer to your son than any other man in the company. Norbert took over his job like a real soldier and brought compliments from many. I can’t possibly begin to relate the deeds that transpired throughout his time with me as space in a letter is at a minimum. However, we fought side by side through Stolberg, Volkenrath, Hastenrath, Escweiler, Frenz, Weisweiler, Lamersdorf, Inden, Lucherberg, Pier, Merken, Altdorf, and Schophoven. These towns may only be dots on the map, but plenty of American blood was dropped in the process of securing them. Throughout this campaign Norbert did his job superbly. However, one must realize that front line combat as a rifleman in an infantry company is the most hazardous role a soldier can perform. Thus the strain affects men differently. It affected me, the others and also Norbert. The strain of having th lives of ten other men plus himself in his every decision and move through combat showed a telling mark, for he was not the man he was four months previously. By this I mean that he was not the cheerful talkative person of four months back. Believe me, it was a strain and a tremendous one at that. However, he tried not to sow his burden, but like a real soldier carried on.

A week before Christmas, we attacked Merken and after three days of bitter fighting secured the town. We set up our defense the fourth day and the night of December 22 were relieved in Merken and sent a few miles south along the Roer River to Pier. What a fine Christmas this was to be. We were in foxholes doing active defense 550 yards from the enemy in sub-zero weather. However, on Christmas day at 1 a.m. we were relieved by the 29th Division and we went back to Weisweiler where we remained for three days. We received the best Christmas meal anyone could ask for and second and third helpings if we so desired. This was the first hot cooked meal we had for about six weeks. After those three wonderful days, we took off again and were assigned to an area on the northern flank of the Bulge. Our mission - active defense of the flank. When the Bulge became nill, we were sent to Lucherberg where preparations and plans for the crossing of the Roer were begun.

At Lucherberg we simulated the proposed crossing dozens of times until it worked perfectly. Every man knew his assignment. I was to work hand in hand with Sgt. O’Neill in our squad’s mission. The plan was for E Company to assault over the flooded Roer River and attack in the town of Stammel directly east of Merken, our jump-off point. We were to jump off at three-thirty in the morning after a half hour of concentrated artillery on the east bank. The attack was postponed on February 18, 1945. After the second cancellation of the attack, the men became more and more on edge as it felt merely like a reprieve. These attacks were cancelled because of the necessity of obtaining the process of doing this when the enemy blew the dams and caused tons of water to come thrashing down the Roer Valley. When this happened, there was little to do but to continue the proposed attack.

February 23, 1945 at 3:00 a.m. was H Hour and at that precise moment the artillery started pounding the opposite shore as we sweated out the last half hour prior to the assault. At 3:25 we picked up our boat and waded 500 yards through hip-deep flood waters to what was previously the west shore line. Our boat was the third one to shove off for the east bank. As we were about to shove off, we saw the first boat hit with everything in the book as she hurtled crazily out of control then sank. A few moments later the second boat was raked mercilessly with a murderous machine gun crossfire. We were by this time well out into the river and had observed the two other boats. However, though the enemy threw everything our way we managed to hit the other side. The remainder of the company was unsuccessful in their attempt to cross. Our squad was the only one to make the other side. Upon hitting the other side we scrambled up the side of the bank, over tripped barbed wire, that fortunately was not booby trapped, and forward about 15 yards where we were forced to hit the ground and seek cover. Little did E Company realize that the next 24 hours were to bring disaster and bitter defeat at the hands of a fanatic enemy. After ten minutes of murderous enemy mortar fire, our squad began to suffer causalities. In the first half hour our squad had lost its squad leader and five riflemen. This was when Sgt. O’Neill took over. He sent me up the river on patrol to try to find the company and bring help. I took another fellow with me and started up the river for aid. We went back over the bank and cautiously started up the river to see what was what. You couldn’t see a thing being pitch black and clouded with smoke that was thrown up to prevent the enemy from seeing us, which didn’t seem to have worked. After going up-stream about sixty yards, we came to the end of the embankment we were behind and from here on it was open flooded ground. We started out, but after going about 25 yards were somehow spotted and the enemy opened up with machine gun fire. We hit it and crawled through the water to a slight rise of ground where we obtained some sort of cover. About ten minutes later we caught the whine of an incoming shell and tensed ourselves for the strike. it struck alright, however, I don’t remember a thing until 12:20 that noon when I came out of my coma to see St. O’Neill dashing across the area below from hole to hole in what was an attempt to knock out the enemy machine gun nest that had harassed our squad all through the night. He was with another fellow who didn’t get as far, for he was killed after going just a few steps. The sarge, however, kept going until it seemed he was right on top of this nest, then he let loose with two hand grenades. As he threw these grenades, he dropped to the ground and seemed badly wounded, however, he did accomplish his objective by knocking out a three man next that had killed about thirty men throughout the night. Believe me, I have never seen much disaster before and those twenty-four hours can never be forgotten. These were the wounds that obviously Norbert succumbed to. The remainder of the company never did get across as the majority of the boats were sunk, all equipment lost, and 70 percent of casualties for those few hours. The company was forced to withdraw back to Merken to reorganize and obtain equipment. Equipment and replacements came up at 4:30 and the company again assaulted, however, through a less formidable front. After twenty hours in the icy waters of the Roer, I was found along with the other fellow and sent back to a hospital. Sgt. O’Neill was evacuated about 2:30 that afternoon by some gallant medics who braved enemy snipers and riflemen to get to the Sarge. Truthfully, I can say that during those few hours I have seen some of the bravest and most gallant men God has ever created perform miraculous deeds of heroism. Though, you will never read, see, or hear of those few men who gave so very much, but at least now you know what Sgt. O’Neill went through and what he did that night and morning.

Mrs. Niehoff, I don’t know whether condolences are in order or not, however, you do have my deepest sympathy. You have given the absolute extreme to the war effort and need not hold your head bowed. Your son died in the greatest honor achieving a goal that only he, the buddy with me, myself, you, and God know about. Your son was one of many I knew well and saw fall in battle. I have made it my resolved duty to always keep those memories of the associations in this war alive by engaging in all the patriotic services to their memory. True, Christmas is a day of rejoicing, but to me it is a day of remembrance to those can no longer enjoy it.

I do so much want to someday contact you personally. So, if you ever do move from your present address, please let me know so when I come to Ohio it will not be in vain.

You stated that you have tried for a year to obtain my address from the War Department. Can you tell me more on how you were able to trace down to me? I am so amazed that you contacted me that I still can’t quite get over it.

In closing may I thank you for the opportunity of being able to tell a story I have wanted to relate for some time, but couldn’t. May God bless you.

Sincerely, Joseph Capone