World War II, Leo Koechner

D-Day, June 6, 1944. I remember that day well. The news was full about the invasion. I was only 14 years old. The reason I recall the date was because my older brother, Leo Koechner (1924-1993) was home from Army basic training. He had recently been drafted.

I went with him south of Tipton to see his sweetheart, Irene Wolf.

Her father was there and I remember so well what he told Leo, “By the time you get over there, it will be all over.”

How wrong he was. That was not how it turned out. Upon arriving in Europe, Leo was placed in the 9th Armored Division, Company A. This company had been through the Battle of the Bulge and out of 60 men there were only 15 left.

The United States suffered more casualties at the Bulge than we did in all the battles of the Pacific.

The 9th Armored Division was given the assignment of capturing the Remagen Bridge. This was the only bridge that remained in Nazi hands that was still intact.

Maj. Gen. Leonard was told, “If you can seize that bridge, your name will go down in history.”

The bridge was captured intact as shown in the movie “The Bridge at Remagen.” The German officer who failed to blow the bridge before the U.S. Army captured it was executed.

As written by Leo Koechner on March 1, 1945:
“We got to the front lines and were given a hot meal. Then we started walking. We threw the gas masks away so we could carry more ammunition. Soon we were fired on by some big shells. We dug foxholes. Soon we moved rather and dug more foxholes. We dug seven holes that day. My hands had blisters, but it didn’t hurt, I was too scared. That evening we found some hand dug trenches. They were zigzag and crooked. We were shelled some all night and had nothing else than chocolate “D” bars to eat and water. The tanks from our outfit fired all  night; the only thing left standing was a big church.

March 2: “The next day we left our trenches to take the town. We were in flat open fields about a half to three-quarters of a mile from the town. We were running toward Wollersheim. The only thing to take cover in was some manure piles.

“I got hit while I was running in the left arm at the elbow but didn’t know it until I saw the blood. I was too scared. I tried to run back but fell down. My buddies told me to roll, so I did for a long way.

 “Our first-aid man came and gave me a shot and put a tourniquet on my arm. A chaplain came. I asked to see a priest, but there were none. Late that evening, they woke me up. Two German soldiers were there to help me. My buddy from Arkansas had captured them. One of them wouldn’t help because I was all bloody.

“My Arkansas buddy put a bayonet in his ass and told him to help or he would be killed; he helped. They put us in a row, the wounded and dead, about 25 to 30 or so. The two German prisoners were later shot.

“After about eight hours lying on the battlefield, they took me to a first-aid station. In a day or so they took me to Belgium and put me on a train. Lost everything I had.

“My dog tags and a watch was all I had left. Rode across France on a hospital train with only a sheet for cover and fruit juice to drink. Arrived in Paris on March 8; that bed sure felt good in the hospital. I was so weak that I could not walk by myself.”

Leo spent a number of months at the Army hospital in Springfield. The surgeons did a good job rebuilding his arm. Nevertheless, he never got full use of his arm. He was discharged in 1946. He married Irene Wolf and they had two boys and a girl. He became a successful business man.