November 14, 1943 - Italy My father James M. McNamara had remembered being on a combat patrol with a unit of 12 - 14 men. The unit he was in was the Regimental Recon Platoon. They were acting as a forward scouting combat patrol for the Regiment. The 2nd Bn was deployed behind them. Pfc. Richard Wagner recalls. “We were being very careful our first week out. Then we got too relaxed, food was getting scarce we were holding up in a house just south of Rochetta. There was a Reservoir and it was full of fish. However we could not wait to fish. We let the locks go and drained the reservoir and got a ton of fish in the shallow water. We moved to a three-story white stucco farmhouse in Rochetta. We stopped to hold up in and around this house around 11 am to enjoy a breakfast of Trout. A couple of guys got to talking to an Italian and we didn’t leave after this. We knew better this was not smart, I am just as at fault as everyone else”. All of a sudden one of the men on watch yelled out, "Krauts!" A German Heavy Weapons Platoon had just moved into the square 25-30 strong. My dad (Pfc. McNamara) said, "We were caught with our pants down. We were in a poor position; there was no cover within 200 yards of that house. We sat and prayed they would take the other road in the square.” Just at this moment, a small Italian man with a cap (like an Irish derby) came into the square. He walked up to what looked like a German Officer and pointed to the Stucco building. To my father, this man looked a little slow, the village idiot type. Well, the Germans started down the road not taking this man too seriously. Several Krauts headed for the front door of the building and kicked it in when all hell broke loose. Cpl. Glover for some reason had left his rifle down stairs in the kitchen. He went down to get it. A German walked into the front hall and he shot him point blank. The combat patrol found it; they immediately gave the Germans many casualties. In the front yard two Germans were laying 2 feet from the front door. One was shot high in the thigh the other had his intestines blown open and was trying to hold them in, while attempting to get up. McNamara recognized this kraut was no longer a threat and yelled at this man in German from the window to stay down. Axel Cederborg sat on the top step of the stairs and was firing away. The Germans regrouped and poured fire into the building. My father remembers shooting out a window with his M-1 when Pfc. Axel Cederborg shouted, "I got the bastard." Then he yelled, "The bastard got me". Cederborg was shooting through a window sitting on the stairs his body had cover but his foot dangled below the stairs and was visible to the outside from the first floor window. He was shot through the in-step. My father was waiting for the inevitable German assault. Things were getting dire as my dad explained. “ We did not know what was behind them besides this platoon. The Germans and us would take prisoners. It was a good thing to be known to take prisoners. However, we had already inflicted heavy casualties on them. An unwritten rule was that you didn't do that and then surrender, all bets were off. We were fighting for our lives”. Lt. Gutterman had sent Pfc. Ted Bachenheimer, who was also a Scout with Regimental Headquarters, for help just before the firefight started. Bachenheimer dashed out of the front door of the house and ran for reinforcements. He used a cemetery and its wall that was in close proximity to the house to give him some cover. While Pfc. Bachenheimer was gone things got worse at the farmhouse. The troopers had to retreat upstairs to the second and third floors; several Germans set up a machine gun aiming at the corner of the house just out of sight and sprayed the house on two sides. Others tried to get in and some actually got into the first floor. Concussion grenades came in the windows; the Americans ducked into other rooms to wait out the explosions. The young Lt. Gutterman was shooting out a window near Pfc. McNamara in the attic. He leaned out the window with his .45 Colt 1911; a German bullet killed him instantly. The firefight lasted all afternoon until about 4:30 pm. The men started to worry if Bachenheimer had gotten through. His orders from Lt. Gutterman was to get out of the house and if the Germans discovered the patrol run to the 2nd Bn for help. Finally, the Calvary led by Pfc. Bachenheimer returned with 2nd Bn reinforcements. The fight was over. The Germans died in their own trap. They had killed approximately twelve Germans, wounded about ten and captured one. However, no celebrating was done. In a letter home to his family Sgt. Bachenheimer explained why. “They had wounded one of us and killed my Lieutenant. He is the reason we did not celebrate. He was one of the swellest human beings I ever knew. He reminded me somewhat of Papa. Both neither smoked nor drank outside of an occasional beer. Both were very quiet and helpful, and both were liked by everyone they ever met. It was a real shock when I heard of his death”. After the fight Wagner recalled, “we went back to look for the Italian who turned us in. We found him; he had been wounded in the shoulder. The villagers explained to us that he was not a fascist he was just a little slow. Considering all this we didn’t have it in us to shoot him and we left.”