Captain Robert Herfort: A Battalion Surgeon's Gallantry in Normandy
Until recently, Jamie Herfort didn’t know much about her grandfather’s service in World War II. But thanks to the brilliant work of a team of independent researchers and the Footsteps Researchers team, we were able to bring his story to life in detail not uncovered in nearly 80 years.
Over the past few months, we’ve been researching the military service of Captain Robert Adolph Herfort, who served as a battalion surgeon in the 36th Armored Infantry Regiment, 3rd Armored Division, during World War II. He was twice wounded in Normandy and received the Silver Star medal for gallantry in action.
In the inaugural issue of the 36th Armored Infantry Regiment's newspaper, The Bugler, the medical detachment was cited as "...one of the most important units of any regiment," admitting that the "Pill Rollers are apt to take razzing in peace times, but should war come you'll find them right up there discharging their duties with dispatch," living up to the motto of the regiment: Deeds not Words.
Winds of War
For nine months, the 36th Armored Infantry Regiment prepared for the invasion of Europe – a long wait in Sutton Veny, England, where they trained and drilled. The men quickly realized the conditions the British were living through, as a nation at war for five years and still facing the threat of invasion. The camp for the regiment included slit trenches and machine guns for actual defense, not just training. Food in the mess hall was not lacking, but was scarce, unlike the abundant meals in the United States. Guards near the waste bins ensured none was thrown out. At night, searchlights raked the skies tracking German aircraft droning above. Several long beams would often fixate on a single plane and pass the tracking off from battery to battery until the threat was out of sight.
The preparation period was also filled with courses on German uniforms and equipment, cross-training with 30th Infantry Division units, and visits from personalities like Montgomery, Eisenhower, Bradley, and Tedder. Road marches took them through the English countryside, overpopulated by cows and their droppings, leaving the roads thoroughly laden with manure. On the first of June 1944, the entire regiment was combat loaded and, after another two-week wait, finally moved to France.
The main invasion had passed over Herfort and the 3rd Armored Division, leaving many of the men in the unit disappointed and slightly offended to have been left out of the 'big one'. But soon, they too would be thrust into the action, tasked with breaking out of Normandy and pushing onward through France.
The Beachhead (June 24)
On June 24, 1944, Herfort and the 3rd Armored Division disembarked on Omaha Beach. The aftermath of the invasion still lingered as a haze hung over the area. Abandoned and destroyed equipment littered the shore. By the time Herfort reached the coast, the Mulberry harbors were in place to receive the thousands of reinforcements and supplies needed to support the invasion continuing inland.
Bloody Bocage (June 24 – July 1)
Near the commune of Neuilly la Foret, approximately 20 miles from shore, they began to undo their waterproofing and prepare for combat. At the end of June, they were allotted to the 3rd Armored’s Combat Command A, further divided into three task forces: X, Y, and Z. Each task force consisted of armor (tanks), armored infantry, detachments of engineers, medics, and tank destroyers.
Combat Command A issued orders to attack on June 29, and all task forces moved to their assembly areas during the night preceding. Ahead of them was the 29th Infantry Division, whose lines at St. Lo were set in bocage country and apple orchards. The French countryside, like England, was largely rural and populated with herds of cows. But due to the initial aerial bombardments and continuing artillery, most lay dead, bloated, and rotting in the sun. The smell was impossible to ignore at first, and soon the engineers bulldozed the cattle into mass graves.
Small fields bordered by hedgerows and sunken roads gave the Germans the advantage of defense and observation. They had quickly become experts at using every piece of terrain to their advantage. Their combination of machine guns and mortars behind every hedgerow meant that all open fields and paths of travel would be covered with deadly fire. Bulldozers, medium tanks, and demolitions were required to breach through many obstacles as the fighting ensued from hedgerow to hedgerow. Infantrymen and a single tank often formed small combat teams that leaped across fields and down small roads barely wide enough for armor.
Foot soldiers crept behind tanks to escape bullets and mortars – the tanks, in turn, faced the devastating fire. As a result of the tough defense, the advance was slow. The Germans also seemed to favor finishing each day with barrages of artillery fire.
Herfort’s medical detachment was busy and mobile for the long hours of combat as they tended to and evacuated battle casualties. Some had treatable wounds, while others were horribly mutilated. It was nothing Herfort could have prepared for through medical school or any training. The reality of war was shocking and swift.
At the close of each day, a view across the front showed an infinite expanse of more hedgerows and fields – all ground to be taken in the coming weeks. It seemed to be an impossible feat as casualties increased over two days of fighting. With mounting wounded and dead, the regiment was pulled off the line on July 1, 1944, after their brief introduction to combat. They would spend the next week refitting and preparing for a return to battle.
Attrition (July 7 – July 26)
Late in the afternoon of July 7, the regiment was switched to Combat Command B, which issued an attack order that evening. Herfort's quick rest was over as his unit was thrust into the bloody hedgerows once again. The plan was to move out that night and cross the Vire River, passing over the bridgehead the 30th Infantry Division had established there. Ultimately, they were to seize the high ground at Saint-Gilles. It was miles away from where they sat, but the advantage of fast-moving armored infantry made such an advance possible in the modern mechanized army.
Alongside the 30th Infantry Division, the 36th Armored Infantry Regiment attacked against their German-held objectives for the next week. The days were long, and combat was continuous. Minutes often felt like hours. Medics worked around the clock tending to casualties, frequently facing the worst of gunfire and shelling to help the wounded. Morphine was their primary tool, and as supplies began to run dry, they often left soldiers with a quick injection before dashing to the next casualty. Lieutenant Herfort worked in all capacities to direct the men under his command, oversee the aid station, and rush around the battered roads in his half-track ambulance to keep up with the daily assaults.
Men who could not be bandaged and turned back to the front with a pat on the back or words of encouragement were sent to the rear, walking if able. But many were simply laid out on stretchers along the road or in a roadside ditch, waiting to be collected and taken to a field hospital or aid station for necessary treatment.
Lieutenant Herfort's interactions with these men were brief and left no time to process emotion. Some had flesh wounds bad enough to take them out of combat, the kind their buddies would become jealous of. Others sat silently on the roadside, quietly accepting the severity of their wounds – a blast of shrapnel to the eyes, loss of limb, or burns. Some were more vocal than others, and morphine did little to sedate and quiet their screams.
After ten days of plowing through hedgerows, they could finally afford a brief rest. Their next series of operations were delayed while it rained almost continuously from July 22 to the 25. But the morning of July 26 opened with clear skies, paving the way for the largest aerial bombardment of the Normandy campaign. B-24 Liberators and B-17 Flying Fortresses pummeled the earth in front of the Allied armies. The constant drone of engines was quickly drowned by rumbling explosions across the front. Even before all the bombers and fighters were cleared to return to their bases, the 36th Armored Infantry attacked.
Breakthrough: Herfort's First Wound (July 26)
The Medical Detachment, always in high demand, was again at the front. During the fray, Herfort was wounded for the first time. The wound was carded at the aid station as the result of an artillery shell and noted on the daily morning report as nothing more than a slight abrasion to his right thigh. He promptly returned to duty.
The attack throughout the day became increasingly difficult as they faced stiffer resistance from the battle-hardened German defenders. A variety of problems plagued them: anti-tank guns, self-propelled guns, at least two Panzerkampfwagen V (Panther) tanks, and constant small arms fire from bitter infantry.
By late afternoon, after hours of intense combat, the 36th Armored Infantry successfully breached enemy lines and reached the town of Marigny. Local French people emerged from their homes to greet their liberators with flowers and calvados.
At midnight, units reported to headquarters that they had "been in town all afternoon," as if they had been relaxing at French cafés, sipping wine and eating croissants.
Headquarters promptly replied, "Your mission is to carry on and push!"
The Last Battle: Herfort's Second Wound (July 27)
As a battalion surgeon, Lieutenant Herfort would typically have been delegated duties around his aid station – at times, a rudimentary setup adjacent to his ambulance. In the thick fighting through July and particularly on the 27th, however, he stormed into the front lines to organize the evacuation of casualties. While small arms fire only grazed nearby tanks, bullets punched into his vehicle on multiple occasions leaving the sides riddled with holes and the windshield equally damaged and cracked.
He managed to dodge all incoming fire except for one shell that sent shrapnel into his body as he administered aid to a wounded soldier. The piece of metal cut into his chest above his armpit, and he could tell almost immediately by the amount of blood that it had hit an artery. Unless evacuated, he would bleed out in Normandy or lose his arm. The injury could not be patched up in the field, and Herfort was promptly transported away from the front for treatment.
He left on the Saint Lo-Coutances Highway that morning for the 42nd Field Hospital and ultimately back to the United States. His days frantically trying to stop bleeding, pack chest wounds, and set fractures on dirty, muddy battlefields were suddenly over, and he returned to the comforts of clean, sterile, and white hospitals.
For gallantry in action on July 27 in Normandy, Robert Herfort was awarded the Silver Star medal, the third-highest military combat decoration given to members of the United States Armed Forces. Due to wounds suffered during this action and on the previous day, he also received a Purple Heart. A 1st Lieutenant at the time of his valorous acts, Herfort was promoted to Captain sometime between July 28 and August 21, 1944. The higher rank is used on the August 21 dated General Orders document listing his Silver Star citation.
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Special thanks to Robert Mackowiak, Joey van Meesen, Myra Miller, Darren Neely, and Preston White for their assistance with this story.