walther "Landwirt" Kriesmaier
Born in 1923, Walther was raised on his parents farm located in Western Germany. Coming from a strong religious background, he was held to a high moral obligation by his parents. He grew up in a simple life revolving around faith, work, family, and education in that order. But, as fate would serve him, his plans of working with his parents and inheriting their family farm was ripped away from him with the outbreak of The War. He was able to stay out of the war for awhile. Being part of a farm organization, Germany needed all the food they could to supply an army. However, Walther's pure love for his country finally convinced him that he could sit out the war no longer. In 1943 he drove the farm's 1/2 ton truck down to the recruiting office.
Walther made it through training with flying colors. All his years working made him unafraid to get his hand torn-up and dirty. After training he was placed in a newly formed unit. 984. Grenadier Regiment/275. Infanterie Division. After a few short months in Southern France waiting for the Allies, he and his kameraden were marching North to meet the Americans head on. Kampfgruppe Heintz arrived into combat just a few short days after D-Day and Walther was immediately experiencing the horrors of frontline combat, however the camaraderie of his squad kept him strong through those long first days. Operation Cobra soon began and the tough fighting of Normandy, just became tougher. The unit's Panzerschreck team had been cut down by MG fire so Walther and one of his friends took over for the remainder of the operation. They were ordered to retreat as the 7. Armee was becoming surrounded. Constant Allied bombings hounded the men of Kampfgruppe Heintz. Walther was wounded in August during a P-47 strafing run on a convoy. He dove with his head down and his arms over his head. Burning shrapnel dug into his forearm but stopped short of his neck.
After a short recuperation, Walther was back at the front with his friends. They had been refitted and reorganized in the Aachen region. Walther was issued a new semi-automatic rifle to replace his bolt action, and was also promoted for his efforts in Normandy. For the next few months, Erste Gruppe would fight the battle of the Hurtgen Forest. The weather changed from warm, to cool, to cold, to freezing. Though they occasionally had the comfort of concrete bunkers, it wasn't uncommon to be caught out in the elements. During a counterattack one brisk November day, mortars began raining down on their kompanie as they advanced. One round landed close to Walther's cover. The resulting concussion left Walther unconscious. When he came to, his men were gone. For the next day-and-a-half he sulked his way around the woods, being careful to avoid known minefields, and at last found his men.
After spending months together trying to survive, the squad had grown very close. The kameradschaft between the gruppe was unmatched to any other. It is for this reason the squad fell apart quickly. In an early January morning Erste Gruppe patrolled through the area, Gruppenfuhrer Fehrmann at the lead. Suddenly American troops opened fire from off to the left. Fehrmann was shot in the neck and Walther took two .45 slugs to the left shoulder. He collapsed in the snow as the gruppe's MG opened fire at 1200 rounds a minute. Alois Klein, the squad's youngest member, ran to the aid of Walther. As he struggled to help him up, Alois was shot through the head killing him instantly. The squad would've been completely annihilated if the elderly member hadn't committed acts of utter bravery to defeat the enemy patrol.
Walther, physically and mentally destroyed, was evacuated for emergency surgery. In just over a month he was back to "fighting condition" which amounted to no more than his arm's ability to handle a rifle. By this time the 275. Inf. Div. had disbanded into the 344. Inf. Div. Walther was returned to battle in an entirely different unit. This time he had no intention of befriending his new squad. Every time he closed his eyes he thought back on his friends; the dead and the living, neither he would ever see again.
Deployed into a Volksgrenadier Division on the Western Front, his new squad consisted on 15 year old kids manning the most expensive armament they could get their hands on. STG44s, MG42s, Panzerfausts; anything to make up for the lack of experience. Soon after his deployment, battle began in the Ruhr area. They found themselves cut off from the rest of Germany in what was known as the Ruhr Pocket. Urban fighting over bombed out factories was now the daily ordeal. As one of the more experienced soldiers, he was obligated to try to teach these boys how to survive. He did not always succeed, and their blood remained on his hands. Finally, in April, he lead his squad to GI lines with a blood-stained white towel in his right hand.
Years after the war Walther immigrated to the US. He ran into trouble with a Labor's Union while working as a factory scab. Pressured by teamsters, he skipped town and became a drifter. He eventually settled down in Grand Rapids, MI where he began farming again. In 1987, one of his son's helped Walther track down an old friend. Erich Kessler also lived in Michigan and they began to meet up occasionally to discuss their troubled military childhood. They remained close until Walther's passing in 1995.
Walther made it through training with flying colors. All his years working made him unafraid to get his hand torn-up and dirty. After training he was placed in a newly formed unit. 984. Grenadier Regiment/275. Infanterie Division. After a few short months in Southern France waiting for the Allies, he and his kameraden were marching North to meet the Americans head on. Kampfgruppe Heintz arrived into combat just a few short days after D-Day and Walther was immediately experiencing the horrors of frontline combat, however the camaraderie of his squad kept him strong through those long first days. Operation Cobra soon began and the tough fighting of Normandy, just became tougher. The unit's Panzerschreck team had been cut down by MG fire so Walther and one of his friends took over for the remainder of the operation. They were ordered to retreat as the 7. Armee was becoming surrounded. Constant Allied bombings hounded the men of Kampfgruppe Heintz. Walther was wounded in August during a P-47 strafing run on a convoy. He dove with his head down and his arms over his head. Burning shrapnel dug into his forearm but stopped short of his neck.
After a short recuperation, Walther was back at the front with his friends. They had been refitted and reorganized in the Aachen region. Walther was issued a new semi-automatic rifle to replace his bolt action, and was also promoted for his efforts in Normandy. For the next few months, Erste Gruppe would fight the battle of the Hurtgen Forest. The weather changed from warm, to cool, to cold, to freezing. Though they occasionally had the comfort of concrete bunkers, it wasn't uncommon to be caught out in the elements. During a counterattack one brisk November day, mortars began raining down on their kompanie as they advanced. One round landed close to Walther's cover. The resulting concussion left Walther unconscious. When he came to, his men were gone. For the next day-and-a-half he sulked his way around the woods, being careful to avoid known minefields, and at last found his men.
After spending months together trying to survive, the squad had grown very close. The kameradschaft between the gruppe was unmatched to any other. It is for this reason the squad fell apart quickly. In an early January morning Erste Gruppe patrolled through the area, Gruppenfuhrer Fehrmann at the lead. Suddenly American troops opened fire from off to the left. Fehrmann was shot in the neck and Walther took two .45 slugs to the left shoulder. He collapsed in the snow as the gruppe's MG opened fire at 1200 rounds a minute. Alois Klein, the squad's youngest member, ran to the aid of Walther. As he struggled to help him up, Alois was shot through the head killing him instantly. The squad would've been completely annihilated if the elderly member hadn't committed acts of utter bravery to defeat the enemy patrol.
Walther, physically and mentally destroyed, was evacuated for emergency surgery. In just over a month he was back to "fighting condition" which amounted to no more than his arm's ability to handle a rifle. By this time the 275. Inf. Div. had disbanded into the 344. Inf. Div. Walther was returned to battle in an entirely different unit. This time he had no intention of befriending his new squad. Every time he closed his eyes he thought back on his friends; the dead and the living, neither he would ever see again.
Deployed into a Volksgrenadier Division on the Western Front, his new squad consisted on 15 year old kids manning the most expensive armament they could get their hands on. STG44s, MG42s, Panzerfausts; anything to make up for the lack of experience. Soon after his deployment, battle began in the Ruhr area. They found themselves cut off from the rest of Germany in what was known as the Ruhr Pocket. Urban fighting over bombed out factories was now the daily ordeal. As one of the more experienced soldiers, he was obligated to try to teach these boys how to survive. He did not always succeed, and their blood remained on his hands. Finally, in April, he lead his squad to GI lines with a blood-stained white towel in his right hand.
Years after the war Walther immigrated to the US. He ran into trouble with a Labor's Union while working as a factory scab. Pressured by teamsters, he skipped town and became a drifter. He eventually settled down in Grand Rapids, MI where he began farming again. In 1987, one of his son's helped Walther track down an old friend. Erich Kessler also lived in Michigan and they began to meet up occasionally to discuss their troubled military childhood. They remained close until Walther's passing in 1995.
