The Bridges
of
Braunau
During the last days of April, just at the beginning of May, the river carried high water from the melting snowfields of the Alps and from its many tributaries.
The end of this devastating, cruel war was in sight. In fact it was only eight days ahead.
Dear Mom
In your last letter, which I got yesterday you said that you are praying for my safe return.
Please do not worry about me. We are just moving along and meet with very little, almost no resistance from the Germans.
My Company Commander said this morning that all will be over soon.
Then I will come home and if Mary-Ann hasn't found another man, but, as she said, has waited for me, I will marry her.
We'll have a humdinger of a wedding.
In any event, I am attached to an “Engineer Battalion. All we do is repair roads and, when necessary, repair damaged, or build new bridges. We get involved in fighting only rarely. There is really nothing to worry about.
I am sending to you and Dad all my best wishes and a hug for both of you.
Your son,
Lester.
The 13th Armored Division, “Black Cat” moves on, coming via the outskirts of Munich toward “Rottal am Inn”, and from there to “Alt Ötting”, small, picturesque towns along the river “Inn”.
But, “picturesque” is not really in the dictionary of those soldiers, who want nothing but the end of this war and to return home to Ohio, Nebraska, Kansas or any of the other States from which they happened to come.
“What'll you do, when this is over and we go home” Herbi asks.
Lester thinks for a moment. A small smile plays on his lips.
“Getting married. That's the first thing I'll do. Then, with my GI Grant, I'll finish College. After that”, he hesitates for a moment, “we'll see.”
“I really have no idea. Not the foggiest notion what I'll be doing. Maybe I'll stay in the Army.” Herbi says.
The truck in which the two friends ride, along with several other GIs, is one in a long chain of vehicles, driving up-river along the river Inn.
Almost bumper to bumper, 2.5 ton trucks, with light machine guns mounted, interspersed by threatening Sherman tanks, Red Cross trucks, and Jeeps, leaving the column, speeding to the top of the line up.
American Soldiers, casually, almost carelessly sit within the trucks and atop the tanks.
Two young boys walk in the opposite direction.
“Go home!” the men in the vehicles shout at them. “Go home!”
A German Army Vehicle approaches from a side road.
Machine guns stutter.
Slowly the column nears the town of Simbach.
The trucks move to the side of the road and stop.
Tanks move up.
Just in front there is a viaduct crossing the road. Heavy cement blocks on both sides and thick trees span the road. A tank barrier. Not for long.
The lead tank opens fire and the mined barrier explodes.
To the left there is a two story building. A pub on the ground floor.
There is movement behind a window. The glass shatters and a bazooka comes flying out.
It misses the lead tank by a foot and explodes against a small tobacconist's sales shed, disintegrating it to its foundation.
The first and second tank turn their turret and almost in unison two shots are fired.
The building with the pub and anybody inside is no more.
The entire column has now come to a halt.
Through the Viaduct, with the wood from the splintered tree trunks lying about, the bridgehead can be seen. The Inn river is less than two hundred meters down the road.
A halt is ordered, because it is assumed that the bridge is also mined and ready to be blown at a moment's notice.
Evening descends and, since all is quiet, field kitchens roll up.
Once a day all GIs should have a warm meal.
A Spotter Plane circles over the ancient City of Braunau and its surrounding area on the other side of the river.
Throughout the night Artillery fire rains upon the forest east of Braunau and does not cease until the early morning hours.
At about noon on the first day of May the expected explosion happens.
A column of smoke and debris rises.
Dark gray at first, then pink at the edges and then a bright red.
The warm shock wave can be felt right back to the hill range beyond Simbach.
About half an hour later, the railroad bridge disintegrates in the same manner.
A pontoon bridge will have to be laid and Colonel Smith asks for volunteers to cross the river using the remains of the destroyed bridge. It is necessary to reconnoiter the best landing place for the last pontoon in the row.
Private 1st Class, Lester Bingham and Staff Sergeant Herbert Moss readily volunteer for this difficult assignment.
It is 9.30 in the morning. Heavy fog lies upon the river. Although it is the second day of May, the temperature has dipped to only 3 degrees Celsius, and light snow is falling.
“The snow won't stay longer than a moment” Herbi says.
“But the river is freezing cold” Lester answers. “We had better not fall in!”
Carefully the two work their way across the ruins of the bridge.
Herbert in the lead and Lester following close behind.
The iron is so cold that the hands stick to it.
“Shoulda brought some gloves.” Lester says.
“Too late now; we're half way across”
On hands and feet they crawl forward.
Water splashes onto the girders, where it forms a thin layer of ice.
The hissing sound of the fast flowing river is constantly in their ears.
Cautiously they test each handhold and cautiously they make sure that the bent piece of girder is well balanced and will support their weight.
“Careful now” says Herbie. “There's the longest gap. Reach across and don't let your feet slip.”
Lester feels for the next part of the girder. There are rivets missing.
The edges of the hole, left where the rivets were torn loose, are razor sharp.
Pain shoots through Lester's left hand. Instinctively he pulls away.
He looses his grip.
His balance is gone and he hears the hissing water, as it rushes over the heavy gravel which covers the river bed.
Herbert does not even hear the cry of desperation coming from his comrade.
Lester, his heavy uniform and boots soaking up water quickly, struggles to stay afloat.
The pull of the rushing river drags him under the surface.
He fights for air, but swallows only water.
Please, he thinks, let me not drown here. I have to keep my head above water.
The fast flowing river is relentless and unforgiving.
Herbert sees his parents' faces and that of his beloved Mary-Ann.
For a moment he is ready to give up.
All turns black before his eyes.
But then an new surge of his will to survive gives him power.
Once again he fights his way to the surface.
Staff Sergeant Herbert Moss clings desperately to one of the pieces of the torn bridge. He knows that his friend has gone from the bridge.
But he cannot see his body..
He scans the surface of the river. He can see only silver wavelets and an occasional piece of flotsam.
He calls his friend's name. He hears only the steely hissing of the fast flowing river.
As fast as he can he returns to the side from which he had started.
Whenever possible he scans the debris of what was the railroad bridge.
Then he sees a fleeting movement among its twisted metal.
He knows not if his sorrow about the feared loss of his best friend has tricked him into seeing what he so desperately wanted to see.
***********************
Hi Mom, Dad and Mary-Ann.
Thanks, Mom and Dad, for praying for me. And thanks Mary-Ann for sending me the little horse shoe with the four leaf clover... I needed it.
A few days ago I almost ran out of luck. But now all is Okay again. You won't believe this. I fell into a river. Just like I used to do when I was a kid at Grandma's house in Muskogee.
When all this is over, and Uncle Sam lets me go, I think I will finish College and become... I don't know yet what. Herbie thinks he'll stay in the Army.
Can't wait till I get home again.
In the meantime think of yourselves as hugged by me.
Lester.
P.S. Hi Mary-Ann: I will write to you separately but I wanted you to know right away that I am A-Okay.
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