Transcript
Dan Snow (0:00)
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Dan Snow (1:05)
When the school teacher returned to his classroom, he found only destruction. The village school had become an unlikely military stronghold. Windows blown out, shards of glass littering the floor, walls pockmarked with rounds, the surrounding area smashed, scarred by war. World War II could do that to a place. One minute it's just a quiet corner of Europe, Asia, Africa, the Pacific. The next minute it's thrust like a slide under a microscope lens into the crucible of war, the focal point in a giant global struggle for the future. Iwo Jima, Dunkirk, Kahima, Caen, Kharkiv. War came like a tornado, ripped everything apart. And then it would lift. It would shift to torment. Another place, another people. So now, in the mid winter December of 1944, that storm had come to the tiny village of Champs, just north of Bastogne in Belgium. The school, more accustomed to the shouts of children at play, had briefly been the setting for terrible violence. Young men shrieking in fear, in pain, crying out for mothers like those children they'd so suddenly replaced. But instead of scratched knees from football, it was from bullets and shrapnel that tore deep inside and foretold of death. Amidst the detritus, the schoolteacher noticed something extraordinary. There was writing on the blackboard. Not mindless graffiti, but something fluent and coherent. He noted it down for posterity. May the world never again live through such a Christmas night. Nothing is more horrible than meeting one's fate. Far from mother, wife and children. Is it worthy of man's destiny to bereave a mother of her son, a wife of her husband, or children of their father? Life was bequeathed to us in order that we might love and be considerate to one another. From the ruins, out of the blood and death shall come forth a brotherly world. And it was signed a German officer. It was a prayer from the midst of battle. It was a message sent to us from the heart of Hitler's last serious attempt to turn the tide of the war in December 1944. Eighty years ago, it was chalked up on that blackboard during the Ardennes offensive, or the Battle of the Bulge, as we often call it in the West. And today, we're going to talk about the Bulge right here on Dan Snow's History Hit. Here to set me straight is the very brilliant John C. McManus. He's professor of US Military History at the Missouri University of Science and Technology. He's the author of numerous fantastic military history books focusing on World War II, including Alamo in the Ardennes, the Untold Story of the American Soldiers who made the defense of Bastogne possible. He's also the host of Someone Talked and the we have Ways USA podcasts. This, friends, is the Battle the Bulge. It can be hard to believe that D Day was just six months before. Sometimes history feels concentrated, compressed. A lot can happen in six months. The weeks following D Day had seen a titanic clash in Normandy. Casualties on a par with the great battles of the First World War. A savage attritional struggle in which men and machines had been ground down at an unforgiving front. Now the Allies could afford to lose those units. The Germans could not. In the summer of 1944, the Americans had broken through. They'd broken out of the Normandy bridgehead. They'd swept through untouched countryside, and they restored movement to the battlefield. The Germans reeled back. There was a vast encirclement in the Falaise pocket where something like 50,000 German troops were captured. It looked as though perhaps, perhaps the Germans were done. The heart had been torn out of German armies in the West. Paris was liberated in short order, the Allies pushed the German frontier. They crossed into Belgium. There was talk by some optimists of Berlin by Christmas and what a different world that would have been. How many millions would have lived or been spared monstrous suffering? How many European cities would have survived? How many architectural treasures would have endured? Instead, it was a very different Christmas. In reality, German units hardened an Allied thrust north from Belgium into Holland to try and cross all the branch of the river Rhine and get into the northern plains of Germany, end in defeat as armored spearheads fell short of the bridge at Arn. Now, that's despite the heroic tenacity of British airborne troops who'd seized and held one end of that bridge and fought off tanks with pistols till their ammunition ran out. The Allies, by the fall, by the autumn of 1944 are struggling terribly with supplies. They'd been hoping to use the port of Antwerp. It was an ideal port, but the approaches to it, if you look at a map, Antwerp is quite inland and you have to go along waterways through Holland and parts of Belgium, and the shores of lots of those waterways are still in German hands. So ships couldn't get through to Antwerp, and that meant supplies are still being delivered to the Channel ports in northern France and then trucked across the whole of France. The roads were terrible. They didn't have enough vehicles, fuel, ammunition, other supplies were not getting in large enough volumes to the front line. And war in the industrial age needs oil and steel and cans of food, and there weren't enough of those things. So the war is no longer one of striking advances, but of inching forward. There's a continuous front that stretches from the Alps of the Channel. Let's bring in John McManus here for his strategic overview.
