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flag, the men headed out of town toward the river, stopping at a chateau which had a high tower overlooking the river. Lieutenant William Robertson, commander of the patrol, and Corporal James McDonnell fastened the flag to a long pole, climbed to the top of the tower and hung the Hag out a window facing the fixer. The response was unexpected and frightening—several artillery rounds from the treeline across the river ripped holes in the tower wall near the window. "The Russians thought we were Germans trying to trick them. 1 high-tailed it back to a nearby ROW camp and came back with a huge bearded Russian soldier. The first time he yelled out the window the artillery opened up again. . .Finally he made the soldiers on the far bank understand what was happening, and the Russians swarmed out of the treeline like angry bees leaving their hive."
The bridge across the river had been demolished by the retreating German army, leaving only twisted steel girders suspended above the rushing torrent. Id. Robertson and Private Huff clambered across the twisted steel to the middle of the bridge where two Russian soldiers stood waiting, seemingly unconcerned about the swiftly-moving water beneath their feet. “I thought they'd, knock us off the bridge, hugging and slapping us on the back. We were hanging on to those girders, I'll tell you,” Mr. Huff recalled.
After retracing their steps across the dangling span and more backslapping and congratulations were
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