MONROE - Eugene Strutzenberg, a World War II veteran living in Brodhead, has stories to tell - a lot of stories - of heroism, bravery and survival. And he has the medals to back them up - a lot of medals.
On Monday, Clayton Ruegsegger, the Green County Veterans Service officer, presented Strutzenberg with a set of nine U. S. military medals and awards to replace his original ones, which have become faded and worn over the past 67 years. Among them are the Silver Star, "For Gallantry in Action," and the Bronze Star Medal for "Heroic or Meritorious Achievement."
With a twinkle in his eyes and a quick grin, Strutzenberg at age 89 describes his youthful bravery as "being foolish."
"The good Lord had a purpose for me, Strutzenberg said, "to tell others about Him."
His wife, Donna, believes her husband owes his bravery and survival to being light-hearted and having no fear.
Strutzenberg served in the 504th Parachute Infantry Regiment of the 82nd Airborne Division, which was involved in some of the heaviest fighting during the war and received some of the heaviest casualties.
"I was the only one in my outfit that got promoted from private to NCO," he said. That achievement was accomplished, he said, because he was a volunteer soldier. He enlisted, and he volunteered for a lot of dangerous duty, including leading more patrols than anyone else in his unit.
"I loved the excitement," he said.
Strutzenberg was both a squad leader and a scout for his company, when in early February of 1945 they were given the assignment to break through The Siegfried Line, a German defense system of "pillbox" bunkers and tank traps stretching about 400 miles along the western edge of Germany.
They marched five miles at night, slept in a forest and woke up under two feet of snow. They marched another five miles before stopping for breakfast near Nuehof, Germany.
Then Strutzenberg, on a 30-minute scouting patrol with his captain, spotted the pillboxes with no one around them.
"I thought something was fishy," he said. He suspected a trap, and they would have to cross a minefield to get to the pillboxes.
They returned a short time later with the rest of the company.
When Strutzenberg heard the command to move out, he said he didn't hesitate. And thanks to the heavy snowfall the night before, the mines didn't detonate.
"I was the front man across the mine field," he said. He rushed across the snowy field to one of the pillboxes and lay against it. Looking back toward his company, he realized he was the only one who advanced.
He pulled a percussion grenade from his pocket and shoved it though a slit in the bunker. It blew the door off the pillbox and killed two of the enemy. About 14 more Germans emerged, stunned, Strutzenberg said.
His action allowed the rest of the troops to advance across the mine field, and for 48 hours they took one pillbox after another, clearing a path through the Siegfried Line before being relieved by the 29th Division.
On this day, Feb. 2, 1945, for his actions under heavy fire, Strutzenberg was awarded the Silver Star. Strutzenberg was told that his captain, Captain Campanaugh, had also wanted to see to it that Strutzenberg got a Congressional Medal of Honor for the deed.
But Company E took on heavy casualties. Only one lieutenant, one sergeant and Strutzenberg survived. No one was left to nominate him for the Congressional Medal.
In his youth, Strutzenberg had taken flying lessons and passed his test, so he thought he should join the Air Force. But, as his second choice, Strutzenberg opted for the Army's Parachute Infantry, an airborne infantry regiment first formed in 1942 as part of the 82nd Airborne Division.
"I was a natural for flying," he said. But the Air Force rejected him; he was color-blind.
He became a jump master and left the service as a Staff Sergeant in 1945, with 19 jumps and 54 days behind enemy lines.
Under four Allied Armies in Europe, Strutzenberg suffered many injuries during the war. He endured gangrene from frozen feet and suffered two broken feet from a fall after his parachute became damaged while in the air. His most exciting jump, "a beautiful jump" over Holland, ended with his arm pulled from its socket. His front teeth got knocked out from being hit by a machine gun, and a U.S. shell exploding just four feet from him put overwhelming pressure on his eardrums. But he was not wounded by enemy fire, which would have rounded out his medals with a Purple Heart.
Only four war buddies and a chaplain are left with Strutzenberg to tell the stories of their company.
"I've seen a lot," Strutzenberg said Monday, with his eyes welling up.
Indeed, he has seen enough, and he has the medals to prove it.
On Monday, Clayton Ruegsegger, the Green County Veterans Service officer, presented Strutzenberg with a set of nine U. S. military medals and awards to replace his original ones, which have become faded and worn over the past 67 years. Among them are the Silver Star, "For Gallantry in Action," and the Bronze Star Medal for "Heroic or Meritorious Achievement."
With a twinkle in his eyes and a quick grin, Strutzenberg at age 89 describes his youthful bravery as "being foolish."
"The good Lord had a purpose for me, Strutzenberg said, "to tell others about Him."
His wife, Donna, believes her husband owes his bravery and survival to being light-hearted and having no fear.
Strutzenberg served in the 504th Parachute Infantry Regiment of the 82nd Airborne Division, which was involved in some of the heaviest fighting during the war and received some of the heaviest casualties.
"I was the only one in my outfit that got promoted from private to NCO," he said. That achievement was accomplished, he said, because he was a volunteer soldier. He enlisted, and he volunteered for a lot of dangerous duty, including leading more patrols than anyone else in his unit.
"I loved the excitement," he said.
Strutzenberg was both a squad leader and a scout for his company, when in early February of 1945 they were given the assignment to break through The Siegfried Line, a German defense system of "pillbox" bunkers and tank traps stretching about 400 miles along the western edge of Germany.
They marched five miles at night, slept in a forest and woke up under two feet of snow. They marched another five miles before stopping for breakfast near Nuehof, Germany.
Then Strutzenberg, on a 30-minute scouting patrol with his captain, spotted the pillboxes with no one around them.
"I thought something was fishy," he said. He suspected a trap, and they would have to cross a minefield to get to the pillboxes.
They returned a short time later with the rest of the company.
When Strutzenberg heard the command to move out, he said he didn't hesitate. And thanks to the heavy snowfall the night before, the mines didn't detonate.
"I was the front man across the mine field," he said. He rushed across the snowy field to one of the pillboxes and lay against it. Looking back toward his company, he realized he was the only one who advanced.
He pulled a percussion grenade from his pocket and shoved it though a slit in the bunker. It blew the door off the pillbox and killed two of the enemy. About 14 more Germans emerged, stunned, Strutzenberg said.
His action allowed the rest of the troops to advance across the mine field, and for 48 hours they took one pillbox after another, clearing a path through the Siegfried Line before being relieved by the 29th Division.
On this day, Feb. 2, 1945, for his actions under heavy fire, Strutzenberg was awarded the Silver Star. Strutzenberg was told that his captain, Captain Campanaugh, had also wanted to see to it that Strutzenberg got a Congressional Medal of Honor for the deed.
But Company E took on heavy casualties. Only one lieutenant, one sergeant and Strutzenberg survived. No one was left to nominate him for the Congressional Medal.
In his youth, Strutzenberg had taken flying lessons and passed his test, so he thought he should join the Air Force. But, as his second choice, Strutzenberg opted for the Army's Parachute Infantry, an airborne infantry regiment first formed in 1942 as part of the 82nd Airborne Division.
"I was a natural for flying," he said. But the Air Force rejected him; he was color-blind.
He became a jump master and left the service as a Staff Sergeant in 1945, with 19 jumps and 54 days behind enemy lines.
Under four Allied Armies in Europe, Strutzenberg suffered many injuries during the war. He endured gangrene from frozen feet and suffered two broken feet from a fall after his parachute became damaged while in the air. His most exciting jump, "a beautiful jump" over Holland, ended with his arm pulled from its socket. His front teeth got knocked out from being hit by a machine gun, and a U.S. shell exploding just four feet from him put overwhelming pressure on his eardrums. But he was not wounded by enemy fire, which would have rounded out his medals with a Purple Heart.
Only four war buddies and a chaplain are left with Strutzenberg to tell the stories of their company.
"I've seen a lot," Strutzenberg said Monday, with his eyes welling up.
Indeed, he has seen enough, and he has the medals to prove it.