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      After they crossed the border into Germany, American and British troops, if they decided to billet in an occupied house, made it a practice to oust the German civilians living there. As soon as we landed our two planes and moved our ground crew to the pasture behind the barn, the Egyptien family met us and invited us to stay in their house. The family consisted of the papa, the mama, and their four daughters, Hedy, who was almost 18 years old; Maria, who was about 20; Toni, who was 21, and Tiny, who must have been 19. Their hospitality was unreal. After all, we were the "enemy." They shared their food with us; we shared our rations with them, eating together around the huge kitchen table. They never missed going to church on Sunday, even though it meant walking nearly three miles through the winter snow. I am convinced that, aside from my own family, I have never met a family that I respected and admired more than that family of Egyptiens. They told us that they, as well as we, were victims of a war that shouldn't be. They were Germans, but not Nazis. They did not like Hitler but admitted that he had done much to raise the standard of living in Germany
      On December 19th, when a windstorm wrecked one of my planes, I had Les fly me to Spa in Belgium to obtain a replacement. This was the same day that Captain Farrell and Lt. Pfeiffer were killed over Stolberg.
      We moved our air section from Belven Farm to a pasture field on a bluff overlooking the city of Stolberg on December 14th. It was meant to be a time of rest and recuperation, and it looked as if it would be a peaceful Christmas for the 3rd Armored Division. The winds of war, however, were blowing in a different direction. On the sixteenth, Von Rundstadt launched the big German offensive in the Ardennes Forest, which became known as The Battle of the Bulge. By the eighteenth our division was totally committed. It was a time of utter confusion for all of us. The ground was snow-covered, the air was thick with fog, and it was very difficult for my section to keep up with the ground troops. No one knew where the front really was. Because the Germans were dressing some of their troops in American uniforms, no one trusted anyone. Thus all sorts of trick questions were being used to try to ascertain the identity of the soldiers on the roads.
     I managed to get our air section moved to the little village of Morrville on Christmas Day. It was too cold and the ground too frozen to dig slit trenches, so we slept in an old hay barn on Christmas Night and for the next couple of days. We must have been located right on the path of buzz bombs. I have a vivid recollection of listening to them fly over all night long and wondering when one of them might dysfunction and come down on us. They always sounded as though their engines were ready to quit.
      On January first we moved to Les Avins for two days. Then on the third of January the 3rd Armored Division launched a counter-offensive. I remember the villages of Heyd and Hebronval, but mostly I remember the extremely cold weather. I doubt that during the period between Christmas and the middle of January, I ever had my clothes off. I certainly did not have a bath during that time. My flight log shows that on January 29th, I flew from Barveau to Liege to get a new engine in one of the planes, so I'm sure that I got cleaned up then. The army had set up a hotel in Liege for use by liaison pilots who were on leave or there for replacement planes and parts. It was a nice deal, and I usually took Mike Cronin with me. We both enjoyed Liege—the food, the soft beds, and the friendliness of the Belgian females—certainly a welcome change after the Battle of the Bulge.
     By February seventh we were back at Stolberg, with the Ardennes a nightmare of the past. At this time I spent about a month at Division Artillery Headquarters, flying reconnaissance missions for the artillery commander and his staff, since no one had yet been assigned to take Captain Farrell's place.
      During February I was able to visit both the Compere and the Egyptien families, the latter, twice. I also spent another three days in Liege requisitioning a replacement plane for the 391st. By March third I was back full time with the 391st battalion, just in time for the start of an offensive to capture the city of Cologne, the Queen City of the Rhine. Cologne fell to the 3rd Armored on March eleventh. The recollection I have of Cologne is the irony of the Ford factory left untouched by bombings, while the impressive Cologne cathedral was badly damaged by bombs.
      After Cologne I flew several reconnaissance missions across the Rhine from Feden and Bonn, and on March 24th, I moved my air section from Bonn to Itterbach across the Rhine River. The next day on a firing mission, I flew into some very heavy flak, which put a few holes in the fabric of the Cub's wings—another heart-in-throat experience.
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