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On February 28, Task Force Byrne was organized with the mission of liberating the town of Venlo across the border in Holland. The force consisted of the 320th Infantry Regiment, the 784th Tank Battalion less Able Company, the 654th Tank Destroyer Battalion, artillery support, and attached engineer and medical units. Colonel Bernard A. Byrne, commanding officer of the 320th Infantry Regiment, commanded Task Force Byrne. On March 1, the 784th Tank Battalion spearheaded down the road from Widenrath to Venlo, bypassing pockets of resistance except in towns and villages. The task force moved so swiftly that the enemy did not have time to destroy bridges. The coordinated assault of tanks and infantry surprised and quickly wiped out enemy positions. The task force entered Venlo around 1800 hours on March 1st.
The 134th and 137th Infantry Regiments, along with Able Company, followed Task Force Byrne, mopping up bypassed enemy forces. The task force then set out in a direction of Staelin, Sevelen, and Rhineburg. The battalion had little trouble moving ahead except for scattered resistence and blown bridges. In Staelin a tank was knocked out by panzerfaust fire. The burning tank was pushed out of the way and the task force continued without delay.
The 8th Armored stabbed toward Rheinberg in the afternoon and received a jolting punishment from the enemy in the city. The 2d and 3d Battalions of the 137th had become motorized when Lintfort was taken and had followed the armor to the outskirts of the city.
A night attack was planned to capture Rheinberg, a plan which only a veteran, experienced unit could fulfill. In a daring and shrewd move, the 3d Battalion entered Rheinberg at 1930, and the 2d Battalion at 2012. After dismounting from trucks, the battalions made contact and worked their way down the main street, the 2d Battalion on one side and the 3d on the other. After flushing out dark cellars and buildings, Rheinberg was nearly cleaned up by 0300. There were still fire fights until 0600 when the city was mopped up and securely outposted. The tankers of the 784th added a touch to the victory by prefacing their entry into the city with a sensational dash, through five miles of enemy lines, to the Rhine River itself.
The prized trophy of Task Force Murray in taking Rheinberg was the multi-millionaire midget and his luxurious mansion in the town square, where Regimental Headquarters and the 3d Battalion located their CPs.
For the remainder of the day, the 2d and 3d Battalions were checked outside of Rheinberg by a blown bridge. Without the support of tanks, the men couldn't move against the heavy enemy fire directed at them across the flat expanses of terrain, and the armor couldn't cross the stream until a bridge was built. The drive continued at 1800 as soon as the bridge was put in, with Ossenberg as the next objective. Artillery had pounded Ossenberg day and night so that it might be taken and a stop put to the enemy's retreat across the river above the city. The 1st Battalion had a bitter struggle in clearing the Haus Heideberg Woods west of Ossenberg.
From Combat History of the 137th Infantry Regiment, World War II (Army & Navy Pub, Baton Rouge, LA, 1946) at page 92
A force that consisted of a company of light tanks, a company of medium tanks, an assault gun platoon, and a company of infantry entered Sevelen around midnight on March 2nd. When they reached the middle of town, the enemy blew the bridges behind the tanks and launched a counter attack. Wes Gallagher of The Los Angeles Times reported:
With a bridge blown behind them, a Negro tank battalion task force staged a miniature ‘Bastonge’ in Sevelen today, mauling Nazi parachute units in savage street fighting while cut off for 18 hours.
The following day, March 3, reinforcements entered Sevelen and counterattacked. When the smoke cleared, 53 enemy soldiers lay dead, 27 surrendered, and a large supply of food and ammunition fell to the task force.
Wes Gallagher went on to report: The 784th Tank Battalion was fighting its first offensive beside the 35th Infantry Division. The battalion won a place in the hearts of the men of the battle hardened 35th Division, who fought from St. Lo to Venlo and beyond, by the battle it put up here and the spearhead fighting it did to get here.
Sergeant Walter (Pop) Hall, a 47-year-old veteran of the last war from Little York, Illinois, who came back in this war as the commander of a tank bulldozer, was called out under fire to fill craters in a road. He went on to knock out a German 88 millimeter anti-tank gun.
Sergeant Ambrose Hicks of Mt. Vernon, New York, an artillery mechanic, was sent back to help bring a supply convoy through. He saved three trucks parked near a burning ammunition truck loaded with 2,300 pounds of TNT.
There were the Negro tank men who climbed out of the shelter of their tanks under mortar and shell fire to refuel….
I had studied the brilliant history of the outfit, and among the ranks of its enlisted men, I had formed some of my most cherished friendships. But I had not seen the battalion under actual combat conditions, the skill and daring of the battalion’s colored tank commanders. There were countless stories of how these Negro sergeants carried on alone in the heat of battle, even when their white commanding captains and lieutenants had been wounded or lost in action.
Along the lonely German fields and roads that beckoned to the Ruhr, I had a chance to test the truth of falsity of those stories, and I found that the glowing tales of heroism which had been attributed to these brown warriors were only a small part of a greater truth.
Able Company, still attached to the 134th Infantry Regiment, smashed through light resistance west of Geldern, where they made contact with the King’s Royal Rifles of the British 8th Armored Division. Able Company was then released from the 134th Infantry Regiment and received a letter of commendation from the regimental commander through the division commander:
1. I desire to commend Company A, 784th Tank Battalion, for a splendid performance of that unit while attached to this organization for a period 25 February to 4 March 1945.
2. The Company Commander, Captain Robert L. Groglode, 01017224, and his entire company proved indispensable to the 134th Infantry Regiment in the assaulting of Hilfarth and the Roer River and the dash to Wassenburg, Bergenlen, and Geldern.
3. Their high morale, aggressiveness, and willingness to fight deserves commendation.
The 784th Tank Battalion moved to Tegelen. Holland. There they performed maintenance and trained replacement personnel, who had no previous armored training. Like the 761st, this politically sensitive and unwanted tank battalion was meant only to pacify and quiet Eleanor Roosevelt, and was never intended for combat. Thus, the Armored Force Replacement Training Center turned out no replacements for the 784th.
Staff Sergeant Franklin Garrido recalls an incident as he approached a small town along the Rhine River: Rhineburg, Germany is where I was wounded. Rhineburg was a little town on the Rhine. We cleared the way to Rhineburg for the infantry under small arms and mortar fire. I was riding uncovered with my hatch open for better vision. We were in a line formation about 50 to 100 yards apart. It was just a platoon of tanks, five or possible six. We moved in on Rhineburg and captured it. Prior to moving into Rhineburg, my tank was hit by a mortar shell. Fragments flew up and hit me in the face. It felt like a baseball bat or something. I fell to the floor. It hurt and I told my crew I was hit, I was hit, I was hurt and I was going to kill the first Kraut that I see. That was a trickle down that we heard from General Patton. He admonished all of his troops to not call the German soldiers Jerry because Jerry sounds too friendly. “If you have to call those SOBs anything, call them Krauts.” That was the first time I used the word Kraut because I was in pain. I told my crew, just keep going and I’m going to kill the first Kraut I see. We skidded into the town square. On the cobblestones we skidded to a stop where the doughs were rounding up prisoners. As the first prisoner walked past my tank, I climbed up and out of the turret and cocked my submachine gun and I leveled it down on the first one I saw. I was going to kill him. The prisoner screamed, he fell down to the ground in the fetal position and started screaming: “Nein! Nein! (No! No) Bitte! Bitte! Bitte! (Please! Please! Please!)” I was concentrating on whether I was going to shoot him in the head or the belly. I was thinking. If I shoot him in the head, it will kill him instantly. If I shoot him in the belly, his guts will fall all over the place and he’ll be screaming even more. I was aiming for his head and he kept saying: “Nein! Nein!” He then said, “Kinder! Kinder! (Children! Children!),” I turned away. In the meantime my crew was yelling at me, “Don’t do it! Don’t do it!” The doughs were yelling at me, “Kill him! Kill the SOB! Kill him!” My crew won out. I couldn’t shoot the man.
The 784th Tank Battalion continued its push towards the Rhine River with the 35th Infantry Division. On March 26, Able Company attached to the 134th Infantry Regiment as part of Task Force Miltonberger. Under control of the 79th Infantry Division, they crossed the Rhine River to exploit the XVI Corps Rhine bridgehead. The remainder of the battalion, along with the 137th Infantry Regiment, later crossed the Rhine and attacked in the direction of Neukoln. Resistance became more frequent, until the enemy became disorganized and withdrew through the Ruhr towns. Then the Germans began surrendering by the hundreds.
Staff Sergeant Franklin Garrido recalls crossing the Rhine River: We crossed the Rhine at night. They were still bombing and machine gunning, sending artillery into the area. We crossed on a pontoon bridge. Being a Southern Californian, I’m not used to seeing wide, deep, swift rivers and it scared the heck out of me. At midnight with no lights I had to lead my tank across this deep, wide, fast-flowing river under fire. I was scared. I was a good swimmer and I kept telling my crew, if the tank goes down or if a shell hits one of the pontoons, just ride with the flow of the current. We made it across the bridge. It was scary.
On March 4, 1945, Baker Company, along with the 1st Battalion, 320th Infantry Regiment assaulted the town of Kamperbruck, Germany. The tanks fired with caution, believing friendly infantry operated in the eastern section of town. Baker Company lost three tanks to anti-tank fire. In one action, tank commander Sergeant Douglas F. Kelly ordered his crew to stay in the tank after it was hit. They returned fire until their ammunition began to explode. Finally they dismounted and Kelly made his way to a forward observer’s post under mortar and small arms fire, where his direction of artillery knocked out four enemy anti-tank guns.
Staff Sergeant Garrido went on to describe an incident shortly after crossing the Rhine: Kamperbruck is where our tanks got knocked out, two light tanks and one medium tank. This was in the afternoon, possible 1600 hours. We were ordered to make up a platoon of tanks plus two light tanks for reconnaissance. Captain Abernathy ordered the formation of a second platoon, which I was the number five-tank, the last tank in the column. The two light tanks were scouting ahead of us. Our orders were to join C Company because they were in trouble. On the way there, we passed a company of doughs from the 35th Infantry Division. We continued on another two miles when the lead tank, a light tank, was hit in the transmission. The four-man crew jumped out uninjured. The lead tank blocked the road. In tank warfare, if you’re shooting at a column, what you should do is knock out the rear tank first so the other tanks can’t turn around and retreat. My tank was the rear tank. I ordered my driver to back up and I guided him around a building. The tank in front of me became the last tank and it was hit and knocked out. The crew ejected safely. That’s when I was ordered by Lieutenant Peterson to pick up men who were wounded in a burning building. We put one on a door and carried him back to where our tanks were.
Staff Sergeant Garrido and Technician Dave Adams had made their way through mortar and small arms fire, and evacuated three wounded men to safety. Garrido and Adams received the Bronze Star Medal for their intrepidity and devotion to wounded comrades. Garrido went on to explain: Lieutenant Peterson then ordered me to go back to the infantry and tell them that we lost three tanks and needed help. I loaded up with grenades and clips for my machine gun and I took off running. I probably broke [miler Roger] Banister’s record before he did. I ran and everything that moved I threw a grenade at or a blast of submachine gun fire. The infantry was eating upon my arrival. I told them essentially what happened. They insisted that I eat with them. I guess that was the first time the 35th Infantry Division was integrated. I had beans, bread, and a cup of coffee. We finished and lined up, I as infantry, and we marched up to where the tanks were. Evidently, the German anti-tank gunners retreated. By that time it was getting dark. The M-5 light tank, the first one hit, its motor was still running. The infantry captain asked me if I knew how to shoot that thing and I said yeah. The first thing, I said the engine is still running, maybe it can move. The M-5 had twin Cadillac engines. The transmission was in the front and there was a neat hole in it. It had been a long time since I fired a 37millimeter, but you just don’t forget those things. He pointed to a haystack and said knock it out, I did. He then pointed to another target and I knocked it out too. That was it.
The 784th Tank Battalion continued the offensive, supporting various infantry regiments. On April 10, Baker and Charlie Companies attached to the 17th Airborne Division for a brief period for an attack on Oberhausen and Mulheim. On April 13, elements of the battalion reattached to the 35th Infantry Division, where they patrolled the wooded area around Blatz on the west bank of the Elb River. There they mopped up small pockets of resistance and took prisoners.
SS troops evacuating French, Polish, Russian, and Jewish political prisoners from the East discovered American troops advancing in their direction. They herded their evacuees into a hangar on the edge of Gardelegen. They poured gasoline on the structure, set it afire, and waited outside with their machine guns at the ready. Caught between a blazing fire and machine gun bullets, many of the prisoners burned alive as they pressed on the walls. The ones that made it out got cut down by a deadly blanket of machine gun fire. Others died as they emerged from underneath the walls after desperately clawing and digging themselves free. According to one report, of the 1,100 prisoners, only 12 survived.
As the war in Europe began grinding to a halt, Staff Sergeant Garrido was about to become an eyewitness to genocide: One of the last large cities that we captured was the medieval city of Hanover. We entered without firing a shot under a plethora of white sheets, pillowcases, towels, underwear, socks, anything white; signs of surrender. When we reached the edge of town we stopped, reloaded, and prepared to jump off at 0600 the next morning. At 0600 we were lined up for what we thought would be Berlin; it was only 100 kilometers away. We took off in a convoy, traveling along at a clip of about 35 miles per hour. The sun was out. It was a beautiful spring morning. The sky was clear, dew was on the ground, and I was lulled into daydreaming about Los Angeles and the California girls. And then I saw this large tall spiral of black greasy smoke ascending into the sky. When we rounded the curve, I saw this compound. There was a large hangar like building surrounded by a wire fence. On the nearest corner, there, what I thought was laundry, clothes hanging on the fence. As we got closer, I saw the clothes, to my horror, was human skeletons, alive! Human skeletons were clinging onto the fence begging us with their eyes to help them. At that time the radio crackled and we heard an urgent message over the air telling the tanks not to run over the bodies.
 We hadn’t reached the gate yet and the urgent sounding voice said: “Slow Down! Don’t run over the bodies!” The convoy slowed down from 35 miles per hour to 5 miles per hour. And sure enough, as we came closer to the gates of the compound we had to thread our way through the bodies. When the barn-like structure was set on fire, it was where the inmates were kept. The doors were locked. As the inmates scrambled to escape the fire, they were machine-gunned. Some of them made it to the road, but they were machine- gunned and their bodies were strewn all over the place. We didn’t stop. In fact, the same urgent voice, probably an officer said: “Don’t stop! There are people in the rear echelon who can help these people. Your job is to continue to pursue the enemy. It was the SS that did this and we want to catch them. Don’t stop!”
 Years later I had a librarian at the Holocaust Mueum in Los Angeles do some research for me. I told her that the only name I could remember about the area was Gardelegen. The concentration camp was on the outskirts of the town of Gardelegen, Germany. Gardelegen was not a concentration camp. It was a satellite camp where they farmed out forced laborers to the various war industry factories in the area. One of the factories was Wolfburg. Wolfsburg was and still is the home of Volkswagen. After we threaded through the bodies, we continued pursuing the retreating Germans until we reached the Elb.
Staff Sergeant Garrido goes on to describe the last days of the war: The Elb River was approximately 40 or 50 miles from Berlin. I told my crew to get ready for the big one, we are going in to Berlin. But unknown to us the “Big Three” had already made a decision that the Allies on the west side of the river would halt. That would give the Russians the honor of capturing Berlin, which was all right with us. My company, Company B, was held in reserve. Two companies of the 784th were at the Elb River when the Russians swept through Berlin. They swept through Berlin with a vengeance. Hitler committed suicide, and the war ended. The Soviet Army met the American Army at the Elb River. Company B was not there but two other companies were.
On April 26, the battalion moved to Immensen, where it performed occupation and control over the surrounding communities. On May 26, the battalion moved to and governed Kelberg and the surrounding communities. With the loss of 140 men in battle, of which 24 were killed in action, the 784th Tank Battalion returned to the United States and was deactivated on April 26, 1946, at Camp Kilmer, New Jersey.
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