When 600 Germans Surrounded Him — He Called Artillery on Himself to Save Them All
Into the Fire: The Untold Story of Lieutenant Garland Merl Connor
At 0700 on January 24th, 1945, First Lieutenant Garland Merl Connor stood in the frozen command post of Third Battalion, 7th Infantry Regiment, watching German artillery shells destroy the tree line 400 yards to his front. At just 25 years old, Connor was an intelligence officer recently returned from the hospital with wounds still healing. The German 19th Army had massed 600 infantry troops and six Mark VI Tiger tanks for a counterattack designed to break through the American positions near Husen, France. Connor, standing at 5’6″ and weighing 120 pounds, was a tobacco farmer from Clinton County, Kentucky, who had enlisted in March 1941. He had never finished high school; the nearest school had been 15 miles from his family’s farm.
Four years of war had changed him. He had fought in ten major campaigns, participated in four amphibious assaults, and had been wounded seven times. The last wound had sent him to the hospital just three weeks ago, and he had returned to his battalion only two days earlier. Third Battalion held a section of the front line north of the Kmar Pocket, the last German-held territory in France, encompassing 850 square miles of frozen forest and farm fields west of the Rhine River. The Germans had held it since November, and every attempt to eliminate the pocket had failed. The French First Army had lost thousands of men trying to push the Germans back across the Rhine.
Operation Nordwind had started on New Year’s Day, marking the last major German offensive in the West. Hitler had ordered Army Group G to break through American lines in Alsace. While the Battle of the Bulge still raged 300 miles north, the offensive had failed, but the Germans in the Kmar Pocket remained desperate. Third Battalion had been on the line for 18 days, with temperatures averaging 10 degrees below zero. Soldiers slept in frozen foxholes when they could sleep at all, and German patrols probed the American positions every night. The battalion had lost 43 men in two weeks, mostly to artillery and sniper fire.
The Calm Before the Storm
Connor worked in the battalion command post as an intelligence officer, gathering information about enemy movements, interrogating prisoners, and analyzing patrol reports. It was not a combat role, but Connor had never stayed behind the lines during his four years of war. He had earned four Silver Stars for direct combat action. When the situation turned desperate, Connor moved forward.
At 0715, the German artillery barrage intensified. Shells walked across the battalion’s forward positions, exploding trees and sending dirt and frozen earth flying into the air. The barrage lasted 12 minutes, then stopped. Silence. Then the sound of tank engines. A runner burst into the command post. “Germans advancing! Six Tigers! Infantry behind them!”
The battalion commander looked at the map. If the Tigers reached the American positions, they would roll through the foxholes. The battalion would be overrun. There were no American tanks in position to stop them. No tank destroyers. The only weapon that could stop six Tigers was artillery, but artillery needed a forward observer—someone who could see the Germans advancing. The forward observation post had been destroyed by the barrage. The observers were dead or wounded. No one could see the German advance from the command post.
Connor studied the map, realizing that the German advance was coming through a section of woods 400 yards from the command post. To observe the attack, someone would have to run across open ground under German artillery fire, then stay in position ahead of the American line while six Tiger tanks and 600 German infantry advanced directly toward them. Connor picked up a telephone and 400 yards of wire. He looked at the battalion commander, then walked out of the command post into the snow.
Running Into the Fire
The German artillery barrage had stopped, but Connor knew it would resume. The Germans always fired preparation barrages before tank attacks. They would wait for their infantry to get closer, then the guns would open up again to pin down the defenders while the Tigers rolled forward. Connor ran.
He sprinted across 400 yards of open ground. The snow covered frozen earth. At 100 yards, the German guns opened fire. Shells landed 40 yards to his left, then 30 yards to his right. The Germans were adjusting. They had observers watching the open ground. A shell hit a tree 70 yards ahead, exploding it into splinters. Connor kept running, feeling the adrenaline surge through him.
At 250 yards, Connor reached the American front line. Soldiers crouched in foxholes stared at him, a lone intelligence officer running toward the German advance with a telephone. He didn’t stop to explain. He kept running forward toward the enemy. He found a shallow ditch, dropped into it, and cranked the handset. The connection buzzed. Then a voice. The artillery fire direction center three miles behind the front line. American 105 mm howitzers, 12 guns. Enough firepower to shatter a German attack if the shells landed in the right place.
Connor lifted his head above the ditch rim. The German infantry was 200 yards away, moving through the trees in squad formations, rifles at the ready. They advanced in short rushes. Behind the infantry, the Tigers were coming. Connor could see four of them, massive 60-ton monsters pushing through the smaller trees like saplings. The Tigers stayed in the tree line, using the forest for cover, but they were coming. Slow, methodical, they would break into the open ground in minutes.
The Battle Begins
The German infantry had not seen him yet. Connor lifted the handset. He gave the coordinates. Fire mission. Enemy infantry in the open. 600 meters. The first shells would arrive in 40 seconds. If the Germans spotted him before the shells landed, they would kill him before he could adjust the fire. If the shells landed too close to his position, they would kill him anyway.
Connor watched the Germans advance, counting the seconds. 38, 39, 40. The sky screamed. Twelve 105 mm shells hit the tree line 150 yards behind the German infantry. Too far. Connor grabbed the handset. “Drop 100. Fire for effect.” The German infantry kept advancing. They had not reacted to the shells. Artillery landing behind an advance was normal. It meant the defenders were guessing. The Germans knew they had time before the Americans adjusted their fire.
But Connor was not guessing. He could see every German soldier, every movement, every squad leader signaling his men forward. The second salvo arrived 18 seconds later. This time the shells landed in the middle of the German formation. The forest erupted. Trees disintegrated. Shrapnel screamed through the air in every direction. The 105 shells carried 14 pounds of high explosive each. Twelve shells, 168 pounds of explosive detonating simultaneously among 600 men packed into attack formations. German soldiers disappeared. Others went down. The advance stopped.
The Tide Turns
Connor cranked the handset. He walked the shells back and forth across the German advance. Every time a group of infantry tried to move forward, he dropped shells on them. Every time the Tigers advanced, he called fire directly in front of them. One shell hit the lead tank’s right track. The track broke. The Tiger slewed hard right and stopped. Immobilized, but still dangerous. The turret traversed. The 88 mm gun was still operational.
Connor called fire directly on the Tiger. Danger close. He specified the exact coordinates. The fire direction officer hesitated. Calling artillery fire on your own position was not standard procedure. It meant friendly shells would land within yards of the observer. It meant the observer might die. Connor confirmed a third time.
Forty seconds later, the first shells landed 30 yards in front of his ditch. The German officer disappeared in the explosion. So did four of his soldiers. The others went flat, pressed themselves into the snow, waiting for the barrage to pass. Connor shifted his fire mission back to the remaining Tigers. The German infantry was still fighting, but Connor had them on the run.
The battle raged on, and Connor continued to direct artillery fire, his hands shaking but his resolve unbroken. The tide had turned, and the Germans were retreating. But the war was far from over.
Conclusion
The courage and determination displayed by Lieutenant Garland Merl Connor on that fateful day in January 1945 exemplify the spirit of all soldiers who have fought in the face of overwhelming odds. His actions not only saved lives but also changed the course of battle. The legacy of his bravery reminds us that even in the darkest moments, hope and resilience can shine through, illuminating the path to victory.
