We are going to take that hill

On Sunday (9/21), during one our stops to take the view (and catch our breath) during our climb, I noticed a French Flag flying on a summit a couple kilometers northeasterly of Kaysersberg. I thought it might be a cemetery, but in all our conversations with locals trying to find WWII landmarks or points of interest, no one mentioned it. Dave and I decided on our way out of town, we were going to get up there. This turned out to be no easy task. We could not see a road running up the hill. There were no signs anywhere pointing in that direction or mentioning a cemetery or monument of any type. I search through Gertie’s databanks but was unable to find anything. We drove around hell’s half acre trying to find a way up. We pretty near circled the summit, hitting nothing but dead ends driving up and around that grape vine covered hill. We finally found a road that ran southerly along the bottom of the hill and I spotted the Stars and Strips flying on the same summit. Now we had to get up there. We kept to the right and found a road up, another dead end. It was now 1pm and we were running out of time. We found another road heading up through the vines. There was an obstruction with a sign on it that a reasonable man might take to mean not to enter. We parked, got out, started up the road and realized we didn’t have time to walk it. Command decision, we are taking this hill. Back to the jeep, there is enough room to drive around the barrier. Dave was a little nervous but I said if some stops us, just point up the hill, keep talking in English and be oblivious. The road was sound and took us to the top and into a parking lot. Our efforts, daring and perserverance were rewarded. There in front of us was a monument to the 3rd Div., 36th Div. and several others. We had lunch by the monument, some terrine we had bought in the meat shop on a baguette from the bakery. We could not have been happier. Our mission in Kaysersberg was accomplished.

I never talked to my Father about his war experience. He didn’t tell war stories and died when I was 15. Any family members who might know something are deceased. So I didn’t have a landmark to look for, no specific place I know he was. But I know that he was here. He was wounded on December 16, 1944 and on the next day, did something that got him a Bronze Star with the V for valor. The town is in the same place, the roads have the same stone pavers, most of the buildings were here. I can walk on the same streets, see the same terrain and go in the same buildings. There is a good chance he might have gone to Mass in the church. The pictures below are so you can be here too.

Sunday, when I checked into the hotel, I told the owner, a woman in her mid fifties, that my Father was a Liberator, fought here in Kaysersberg, was wounded and I had come here to see where he fought. Monday, when I checked out, she introduced me to her 30ish daughter and said, “His father was a Liberator, he fought here for us”.