Background from the Century Division web site:

The Century Divison fought one of the last major battles of World War II in Europe with the assault river crossing of the Neckar River at Heilbronn, 3 - 12 April 1945.

In the teeth of fanatical resistance, fueled by an errant RAF bombing raid which had mistakenly hit the city center and turned the enraged populace into enthusiastic helpers of the city's defenders, the 100th launched an amphibious assault across the narrow but swiftly-flowing Neckar. While under constant observation and direct fire of dozens of guns emplaced on the hills surrounding Heilbronn to the east, the men of the 100th clawed their way into the city center and destroyed the German garrison by 12 April. Three battalions, 1/397th, 2/397th and (for the second time) the 3/398th earned Presidential Unit Citations in the process of eradicating this, one of the last major centers of German resistance. PFC Mike Colalillo won the third -- and last --Congressional Medal of Honor to be awarded to a soldier of the 100th Division during this battle as well.

Heilbronn

The took us up into the Heilbronn Tower, just down the street. It's an office building still under construction, so we had the observation deck on the top all to ourselves to figure out the layout of the city.

The tower is on Kaiserstrasse, which runs straight into the the middle of town. Originally there were three bridges and three gates into the city and this was the center bridge. Each bridge was literally a bridgehead during the fighting, though all had been bombed into the Neckar.

The cathedral is encased in scaffold and plastic sheathing--that's not just a fuzzy focus. It's clear how the hills surround the town and dominate it. It's where the German artillery were, taking all the advantage from the high ground. The town is there in part because of the hills. The hills protected the grape vines that the Romans had brought when they chose to settle there.

Men who were in the 398th asked where the power plant was--they remembered fighting past it. This is the view toward the current power plant, which is near the old one. It's the cooling tower in the haze in the distance.

Turning the other way, is the view toward the 399th bridge head and the lower gate into the city. The brightly colored building past the current bridge is called "The Crossing."

Bob Heller and a closer focus on the area. He asked our local guides where the Nazi insignia factory was. It was where the 325th Engineers were on the shore--and the source of Dad's collection of insignia. Bob says many guys in Company C grabbed insignia.

Mike Escalera recalled how the engineers with the 399th were putting up bridge after bridge at night and at first light they would be blown to bits (this had to be Company C). He was trying to carry ammunition across the pontoon bridge but it was clear that he was carrying too much, so an engineer volunteered to help him. They made two trips across. On the return from the second trip, the Germans zeroed in and blew the bridge up and them into the water, which was icy cold. The engineers fished him out of the water and built a fire to warm him up from the hypothermia. He remembered an officer angrily demanding where the other man was and how could Mike not notice where he went. They couldn't find him. As a sergeant, he should have been responsible for him. That sure sounded like Dad.

Decades later, Mike was at a reunion, when someone stepped up and said, so, you made it. It turned out to be the engineer. He'd gotten blown into one of the pontoons and the bridge deck had covered him over. They hadn't found him for two days, by which time he was suffering from the cold. He still didn't have use of his arm, but he'd lived.

We left the tower and crossed the Neckar. This canal boat says "Heilbronn" on it. The view of the bridge in the distance is near the 399th bridgehead.

Liz and I were talking to Marga so much that we missed the official guide's explanation of the ornate town clock. I liked it much more than the astronomical clock in Strasbourg, perhaps because it was simpler. I loved the two rams that bash into each other at the sound of each chime.

Salt Mine

We drove out of the city to have lunch and tour the salt mine. We passed the power plant, where the Neckar has several channels and canals.

Heilbronn was bad for the Century because the artillery commanded the battlefield from the hills, it was urban fighting against the SS, but also because the Germans had access to the salt mine tunnels that undermined the whole city. They could suddenly emerge in different parts of the city.

Salt is apparently still being mined there. At least this mine shaft looked used as we drove past it. Apparently the salt that is left is low grade though--useful as street salt.

We arrived at a salt mine that is no longer working. There were workers, but they were filling the vast empty spaces with essentially landfill, both as disposal, but also to stabilize the honeycomb of enormous caverns underground. We ate lunch in what was the miners cafeteria. We'd ordered ahead of time. Liz and I had ordered the miner's lunch, which was described as bread and cold sausage. We thought it would be a sandwich. But no. It was a large plate covered with extremely high fat and spiced and unidentifiable meat substances--liver sausage was the only recognizable one--two slices of rye bread, an ounce of cheese, and a bottle of schnapps--60 proof! Thomas explained that they thought the schnapps would help the miners digest the high fat content.

All of the displays were in German describing the discovery of the place and the geology. There was also a film all about the manufacture of salt.

And then we hit something we could understand--goofy dino statues!

I think Marga was a little disgusted with Liz and me for taking pictures--she pointed out that that's there to entertain the children--but how could one resist the sleepy eyes of the giant crocodile? I definitely think they had a different accent from American goofy dino statues.

The next chambers held an assembly hall--or the facsimile of one--for the workers. The symbols on the pulpit appear to be the worker's organization symbols, judging from other displays--like the workers' band.

Thomas and Bill Glazier climb up into the bully pulpit.

We also passed the carving of Saint Barbara in a cave of salt. She was the patron saint of those who may die a sudden death and the patron saint of artillerymen. Her saint day is December 5, I think. Considering that her city of Heilbronn experienced sudden death near her saint's day was one of the many eerie coincidences we noted on the trip.

On our way out, we passed a series of displays on how salt is mined and a pile of souvenir salt crystals--impure so really the type for road salt. Some of the crystals were quite lovely. I picked one up and soon felt the burning on my skin. Thomas said that one had to be careful. He'd taken a large piece and put it on his bookshelf when he was a boy. He quickly found out that was a bad thing to do to wood and his parents were quite unhappy with him. He also warned us not to put it in our pockets for long if we liked our pockets.

Sinsheim

As interesting as the salt mines were, I think that we wouldn't have dawdled there if we'd realized that there was yet another stop before we drove to Frankfurt. At least, I'd rather have wandered in the nice spring day among the truly jaw-dropping collection at the Sinsheim technology museum. It's more like a giant toy collection all jumbled together--but the toys are really really big! For instance, the Concorde over on the right.

We'd been scheduled to be at Sinsheim at 1. We unfortunately didn't arrive until 4 and had only 50 minutes to walk around. They'd planned a reception for us inside that had to be cancelled, but luckily some of those who had waited to meet us were still there in the parking lot, where the mayor (the one in the cowboy hat) welcomed us as well as one of the original founders (?) of the Sinsheim museum. He said that they had been glad that the Americans had arrived in their sector--especially given the alternatives.

One of the Germans wore a Century Division insignia.

We wandered up a ramp and stumbled into the World War II exhibit--an unlabeled jumble of all kinds of equipment, guns, tanks, command cars, and uniforms.

And again the Century Division had a presence. The sign on the wall is from the 399th.

This gives a little flavor of the sense of airplanes and tanks and people but it doesn't include the juke box playing overhead. Overwhelmed, Liz and I wandered off to the refuge of the refreshment stand when someone started up one of the motorcycles with a great roar. Did the men all go running!

I think the guys could have spent the whole day at Sinsheim, climbing into airplanes and looking at the dream cars of the fifties and sixties, some of which they'd owned.

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