Bergstein before World War II was almost never heard of by anyone in the U.S. and scarcely by anyone in Germany. It was a tiny village located in northwest Germany south and east of Aachen and west of Cologne in a very heavily wooded region of the country referred to as the Huertgen forest. It was in this area in November 1944 that a vicious battle raged between advancing American troops and the German infantry who were ordered to defend this crucial region of the Fatherland leading to a series of earthen dams that controlled the waters of the Roer River and the adjacent valley. The weather was the worst that it had been in decades. It was incredibly cold and the rain, snow and sleet were incessant with almost total absence of sunshine and constant presence of fields of heavy, dull and ominous clouds. Located at the eastern edge of the village was the tiny church of The Martyrs named after a group of early Christians who had been killed by pagan Romans of the nearby territory because of their Christian beliefs, and immediately adjacent to the stone structure was the small, well kept, neat and tidy parish cemetery containing approximately thirty graves, all final resting places of residents of the village and the immediately surrounding places. All were marked with stones both simple and ornate, and bearing the names of the deceased. There was Loup and Zimmerman and Kohl and others all easily identified as being German. About thirty yards beyond the cemetery, the terrain suddenly gave rise to a very high and rugged hill whose crest rested some one hundred and forty feet above the surface of ground beneath.It was during the attempt to capture this elevated structure and the fierce defense of it that the unbelievable carnage occurred.

The Americans first attacked the hill at dawn on the day following the capture of the village, and quickly drove the enemy troops off of the crest and down the eastern slope only to have the Germans counter attack and recapture the structure after a fierce artillery assault lasting almost half an hour. It was apparent that the enemy was not going to abandon the hill without a fight. During the barrage the Americans dug into the frozen turf and prayed that the falling trunks and large branches from the overhanging trees would not come crashing down on their exposed backs and flanks as they lay trembling in their shallow holes. The Americans retreated down the western slope and regrouped for another assault at dawn. The second assault was as savage as the first, and the Germans fought again with fierce determination only to collapse under the superior firepower and will of the attackers. The Germans then retreated and assumed defensive positions to the north and east of the nearby village of Schmidt where future additional incredible fighting was to take place.

Adjacent to the partially destroyed church was a convent occupied by a dozen sisters who spent their entire time praying, working in the garden, tending the cemetery and doing various merciful chores in the village and the near-by tiny communities. The church roof had been largely blown away by artillery shells meant for the adjacent hill crest and one wall was all but demolished, and the sisters had no-place to perform their daily prayers.

Two elderly men assisted the sisters with their jobs around the convent; they painted and mended things that needed attention and seemed never to exhaust jobs that needed to be done .So it was as the fighting in the village and on the hill abated. The convent was cold and damp for no fire had been lighted for more than a week so the two men proceeded to the hill and began to gather wood from the fallen branches and the torn up shrubs, and stack them in orderly piles in the yard outside. As the gathering continued they came across the body of an American soldier buried beneath a heavy pile of timber. It was covered with mud and slush with almost unidentifiable facial features. There was a huge gash on the left side of the scalp, and the hair was matted with blood from the wound. The men considered burying it, not only out of sheer decency but also to avoid the horrible stench that was certain to develop that close to the convent. They were removing the heavy timbers piece by piece when they were shocked by a low pitched, but definite groan. They looked at each other with disbelieving stares, and hurriedly continued to peel away the remaining pieces as the groan was repeated and shallow breaths could be discerned. The American was still alive. What now? What in the world were they going to do? They left the wounded man where he was and actually ran back to the convent to confer with the Mother Superior. She listened carefully to the tale of the men and conferred with another of the sisters for several minutes before saying Bring him here to me.

As they hurried back they wondered how they were going to obey what Sister had ordered. How could they move the man? The older of the two was seized with an idea. There were many destroyed and partially destroyed houses in the village and loose doors and window frames and struts from fallen walls would be lying around. They could easily construct a makeshift litter and move him that way. They found such a door blown off its hinges in one of the empty houses and lugged it with them to where the soldier was located. It was a struggle to position the man on the homemade litter and moving him elicited more moans and deep voiced groans of pain.