Last modified: Thursday, December 16, 2004 10:39 AM EST `Bulge' vet speaks BY GEORGE W. RHODES/ SUN CHRONICLE STAFF ATTLEBORO -- Sixty years ago today, thousands of young American soldiers woke to the thunder of German artillery and the drone and clank of fearsome German tanks rolling like the vanguard of Armageddon into the Ardennes region of Belgium. The surprise attack by 29 German divisions along an Allied front running north and south along the German border in eastern Belgium smashed the thin American line made up of rookie soldiers in a bold move that Nazi leader Adolph Hitler hoped would isolate part of the Allied army to the north and allow the German army to march west to the sea at Antwerp, with the aim of cutting the Allied supply line, and forcing a negotiated peace in a war Germany was losing. The surprise attack used the `` blitzkrieg'' or `` lightning war'' tactic that Hitler had used in Poland and France on his way to devouring most of Europe from 1939 through 1942 before the tide began to turn and the Allies began pushing the Germans back, country by country. The Ardennes was considered quiet, it was a place Allied commanders believed Hitler was taking a defensive rather than offensive stance while trying to stave off attacks on other fronts. It was considered a good place to station green troops unhardened by battle, and that's what the Nazi war machine ravaged when it stormed into Belgium nine days before Christmas in a last-ditch effort to fend off defeat. Attleboro resident Art Chatfield, then 19, was one of the new soldiers on that line. And he clearly remembers the chaos of the moment. `` On the 16th of December, all hell broke loose at about 5 in the morning,'' he said. `` There was a tremendous bombardment by artillery, and then the tanks started to roll, and we didn't have a clue about what was going on. It wasn't a very pleasant experience.'' In the five weeks it took allies to repel the German offensive and restore their positions on the German border, Chatfield became one of the more than 600,000 Americans, along with British, Belgians, Canadians and French, who ultimately stood their ground -- to blunt the blitzkrieg and begin the end of Hitler's murderous reign in a battle that became known as the `` Battle of the Bulge.'' While the Germans were eventually pushed back, the cost was great. America's army alone suffered 81,000 casualties, including 19,000 killed and 23,554 captured. Of the 19,000 killed, 81 were prisoners of war murdered at Malmedy by Nazi storm troopers. While Chatfield speaks modestly about his role in the battle, it's likely he wasn't too different from the millions of other American soldiers who participated in World War II and have been dubbed `` The Greatest Generation'' by former NBC news anchor Tom Brokaw. They did their duty, and then they came home and built their country. Chatfield eventually got an engineering degree, married, had three sons and a long career in sales that brought him to Attleboro -- but he started out as a small-town kid from Painted Post, N.Y. He wanted to be a fighter pilot, but he ended up in the infantry as a member of the 424th Regiment of the 106th Division that manned the northern end of the Ardennes front. Normally a division of about 12,000 soldiers covers a five-mile line. The 106th was stretched out over 20 miles, making it very susceptible to attack. The 422nd and 423rd regiments were on the northern extreme of the line, and most of the soldiers belonging to the units were forced to surrender when the Germans attacked. Chatfield's 424th was stationed south of the 422 and 423 and next to the 28th Division. When the barrage began, Chatfield, a sergeant and squad leader, was ordered to take his 12-member unit south and contact the 28th Division. The trek was about five miles in frigid temperatures over snow-covered ground. The going was tough, and by the time the squad arrived where the 28th was supposed to be, it had fallen back before the German assault. So Chatfield turned his men around and headed north to rejoin his own unit. But by the time he got back, his outfit was gone, leaving him and his men to face the advancing tanks of the German Army. They were in `` no man's land,'' separated from retreating comrades and directly in the path of the German assault. `` It wasn't a very pleasant experience,'' Chatfield said. `` We were close enough to spit on them.'' But neither spitting nor firing their weapons at the Germans would have done much good in the presence of overwhelming numbers, he said. `` Discretion is the better part of valor and a firefight was something I was going to avoid to the best of my ability until I could get back to where I had some support,'' Chatfield said. So Chatfield and his cold and weary band headed out again, west this time, toward St. Vith, Belgium, where their fellow soldiers and the German army were heading. Their route was the same route taken by the Germans, so he led the squad on a parallel course about a quarter-mile from the advancing German army, using dense forest for cover. Chatfield and his men could hear the enemy shouting and cursing in the cold winter winds, and the rumble of the enemy armor made the earth tremble. It was a tense time, and it lasted five long days. The key to safety was to be quiet and stay out of sight. `` It was pretty harrowing,'' Chatfield said. `` We just had to walk and rest, walk and rest. The biggest thing we had to do was keep quiet and keep aware of where we were going at all times.'' Eventually the squad made it to St. Vith, and joined up with their regiment and elements of the 28th Division, where they held their ground and helped turn the German assault into a retreat. Stout Allied resistance at St. Vith and at the more famous Bastogne, coupled with German supply problems and lack of fuel, eventually doomed the attack to failure. Germans created a bulge in the Allied line, which bent it, but never broke it. Once reinforcements arrived, the Allies pushed back hard, and by Jan. 28 the battle was over. Chatfield was wounded and spent the rest of the war as a military reporter on the south coast of France. He was nominated for a Bronze Star he never got, but his story isn't the most important one, he said. `` I don't want the focus on me,'' said Chatfield, who now studies the war he took part in 60 years ago. `` I'm not overly anxious to hear my story. I want the focus on what the rest did. I'm interested in the bigger picture.'' Like other members of The Greatest Generation, he stayed silent on the war for years. He kept images of comrades being `` blown to bits'' and dead enemy `` stacked up like cordwood,'' to himself. But at 79, he feels a need to talk because he doesn't want the sacrifice to be forgotten. `` We as old soldiers owe it to the new generations,'' Chatfield said. `` I think we owe it to our offspring so they have knowledge of what went on, and why.'' GEORGE RHODES can be reached at 508-236-0432 or at grhodes@thesunchronicle.com.