Editor’s Note: In the Third Army during World War II, Bob Lettis of Cooperstown was witness to one of the most memorable episodes: the securing of the bridge at Remagen, the last crossing that hadn’t been destroyed by retreating Germans. After the war, Lettis, brother of former Oneonta Mayor Jim Lettis, taught art in Otsego County and Massachusetts for many years. He is now retired.
On March 11, 1945, we were told to move out. We were to pack up all our gear and join the rest of the battery at Hurth. Little did we know that we were about to participate in a battle that would go down as the turning point in the war against Germany. The Third Army had been predicted to attempt a Rhine crossing at any time. Maybe this was it!
When we joined the rest of Battery B, we headed down toward the river. It became apparent we were to be part of a Rhine crossing. We had not seen any indication of a bridgehead from our OP position, but maybe we had missed it in the dark.
Our convoy soon joined other units heading in the same direction. We kept looking for Engineers and their pontoon, but none were in sight. After heading down toward the river, the convoys came to a main highway and turned south, following the river on the western side. After traveling a few miles, we sighted a railroad bridge in the distance, apparently still intact. Most bridges on the Rhine had been destroyed as the Germans retreated to the eastern side of the river.
It is important that you have a picture of the terrain bordering the Rhine at this point. Over the centuries, the river had cut a gorge into the landscape so that on each side the banks rose perceptibly to a height of several hundred feet. This height advantage is what made our last OP so advantageous. Now that we were down at the level of the river, we looked up in wonder at the imposing hilIs.
What we were looking at was to become known as the Bridge at Remagen. This was the beach-head that would allow American troops to gain access to the Rhineland, the breadbasket of Germany. The bridge was a blackened structure crossing the Rhine and the railroad it served had been a major rail link for German troops defending the border at Holland, Belgium and France. When the railroad ceased to operate because of Allied air strikes, it was converted to a vehicle bridge by covering the rails with planking. At each end of the bridge were twin towers acting as anchors for the structure. On our side, the rail approach was gradual with the tracks running down a small valley to the river and then traveling onto and over the bridge. This easy approach was not the case on the eastern side.
Here the rail line confronted a high hill, so that to continue on its way the Germans were forced to dig a tunnel through the mountain.
We were somewhat puzzled as to how we were to cross. How were we to get onto the bridge with the rail bed several feet high at this point? Our engineers had solved that problem by building a ramp up from the northern side. Our convoy then proceeded to drive up the ramp and onto the rail bed and then to the bridge itself. As I mentioned before, the Germans had put planking down on the tracks so that truck and cars could cross.
The bridge had been captured March 7 by a company of American engineers who happened on the site by chance, surprising the German troops left to blow it up. The Americans were able to dispose of the few Germans still on the bridge, then cut the wire that had been strung to connect the explosives, and finally secured an easy access into heartland of Germany.
Within hours tanks, half-tracks and troops were pouring across, expanding the size of the bridge head. Our unit, one of many, was to help exploit this Third Army advantage.
My description makes the story sound as if it was a leisurely drive from one side of the river to the other. It was far from that. While on the bridge there were German planes flying in from the east, dropping bombs, trying to destroy the structure. American 50-caliber anti-aircraft fire was everywhere. Because the plane had to come in very low to have a chance of hitting the bridge, the bullets being shot from both sides of the river were only a few feet above our heads. God knows how many American vehicles and troops were hit by this friendly fire, but there had to be some with this extensive barrage. The bridge itself was strewn with the carnage of the battle. Disabled vehicles had been pushed aside or into the river. Dead German soldiers lay everywhere. Many years later I found when revisiting the site that the German engineer officers responsible for destroying the bridge had been court-martialed and executed for this failure.
Upon reaching the eastern side of the river, our unit turned right and headed south. We halted a short distance from the bridge and our machine gunners joined the rest of the trigger-happy 50 calibers trying to shoot down the German planes. Also we became aware that there were other attempts to knock out the bridge. The Germans were firing artillery as well, but because of the high hills, the shells were ineffective and landing several hundred yards on the other side of the river. It became clear why we were sent across. We were to locate the source of the enemy fire so that it could be destroyed.
My job, as the sergeant observer, was to locate the OPs for this job. Lieutenant Jalbert and I began our climb up the precipitous hill that bordered the road, with the tasks of locating the sites for the OPs. To begin with, there were houses on the side of the hill so we were able to walk up streets and in between the homes. Soon these ran out and we continued walking up through an open field. When we finally reached the top we decided that this was not a good location for the OPs because right in front of us was another hill, blocking our view. There was nothing left to do but to travel down into the small valley between the hills and climb the next one (hoping that we would not run into the same situation as before). Eventually we were able to find several locations, ones that gave a good view of the countryside for several miles. We went back to our convoy and I took the OP crews to their new OP. They could begin to look for the placement of the harassing enemy artillery so it could be silenced.
Crossing the Remagen Bridge was an extremely memorable experience for me. It was a day full of excitement, horror and fear. Crossing the bridge, being part of the antiaircraft barrage firing at enemy aircraft, and climbing into territory that could have been held by the Germans was a day to remember. Lieutenant Jalbert put me in for a Bronze Star for that day. I received it after the war when I got home.
Several days after our crossing the bridge collapsed and fell into the Rhine. Several pontoon bridges had been constructed by the engineers by then so that the progress into the heartland was not interrupted.

After the war, a Bronze Star Metal was sent to me in Oneonta. In the years that followed, the citation was mislaid or lost.
I applied to the Army record center to have a copy of the citation sent to me. The only reply I received was that the Record Center in St. Louis had been destroyed by fire and the records were unavailable.
A couple of years ago, I saw a note on the Internet that some of those records had been retrieved, though partially burned, so I send in another request.
On Aug. 20, 2007, I received a copy of the citation (albeit with burned edges) and a new certificate signed by the then-current secretary of the Army and dated 2007.
It took only 61 years to complete this process, but now I can legally say I was a recipient of a Bronze Star during World War II.