| _BIOG |
Lloyd H. Stegeman, ein Nachfahre deutscher Auswanderer, wurde im Mär 1942 zum Militär einberufen. Er erhielt sein militärische Ausbildung in Camp Woods und Fort Worth, Texas. 1943 ging es von New Jersey nach Casablanca (MA). Über Algerien ging es nach Tunesien, wo er an Kampfhandlungen unter Patton gegen die Truppen von Rommel teilnahm. Er war Panzerfahrer und mit der Wartung beauftagt. Nach dem Einmarsch in Italien hatte er ein Pause in Neapel. Von dort ging es nach Salisbury (GB). Dort wurde er auf die Invasion vorbereitet. Am 6 Jun 1944 nahm er am "Utah Beach” an der Invasion der Normandie teil. Am 12 Sep 1944 erhielt er den Silver Star. Vom 13 Sep 1944 bis zum 16 Nov 1944 war er in Schevenhütte.
Er stand mit seinem Panzer vor einem Haus in Schevenhütte. Den Schevenhütter war es nur in Begleitung erlaubt ihr Vieh zu betreuen. Als eine alte Frau weinend mit einem Melkschemel vor ihm stand, setzte er sich über seine Vorschriften hinweg, benutzte sein fließendes Deutsch und machte sich als Melker nützlich. Es entwickelte sich eine Freundschaft mit der Familie, die die Kinder Maria, Agnes, Wolfgang, Peter und Charlotte hatten (laut Erinnerungen von Lloyd aus 2012 waren es Mary, Agnes, Wolfgang, Peter and Sherlotte). Diese Familie gestaltete dem Jungen aus Minnesota seine Zeit in Schevenhütte angenehmer. Im Mai 2012 konnte diese Familie nach langem Suchen als die Familie Greuel-Neffgens identifiziert werden. Sie wohnten bis 1958 im Haus Am Wittberg 5.
Lloyd nahm sich beim Militär immer die Morgenschicht von 3.00 Uhr Nachts bis Tageslichtanbruch um Wachposten zu stehen. Eines morgens sass er auf seinem Panzer und starrte in den Hürtgenwald, als er ein Karnickel sah. Das Karnickel war neben dem Gehöft und spielte an der Wand entlang. Dann hoppelte es bis zur Gebäudeecke, schaute herum und zog sich aber schnell wieder zurück. Nachdem das Karnickel das mehrfach wiederholt hatte, war Lloyd besorgt, dass etwas hinter dieser Wand nicht stimmte. Alarmiert stieg er von seinem Panzer runter und ging in diese Richtung. Als er dort ankam erblickte er plötzlich einen vorbeigehenden deutschen Sanitäter. Er befahl ihm sich zu ergeben. Der Sanitäter war ein sehr kleiner Mann, mit einem breiten Lächeln im Gesicht. Er ergab sich ohne Probleme, aber sofort hatte Lloyd ein mulmiges Gefühl im Magen: Sanitäter befinden sich immer hinter den Frontlinien und räumen nach der Schlacht auf … aber es gab noch keinen Kampf und der Sanitäter kam auch augenscheinlich keinem zu Hilfe. Beunruhigender war, dass der Sanitäter weiterhin breit grinste, obwohl er doch soeben gefangengenommen wurde. Welche Gründe könnte er für sein Grinsen haben?
Nachdem er den Gefangenen seinen Männern übergeben hatte rannte er sofort wieder an die Stelle zurück und späte erneut um die Ecke des Hauses. Nicht mehr als ein Dutzend Meter entfernt standen 100 oder mehr Deutsche. Er funkte nach Verstärkung und ein weiterer Panzer mit Schützen kam schnell. Mit den Maschinengewehren eröffneten sie für ein paar Sekunden das Feuer und schrieen sie an sich zu ergeben. Alle ergaben sich ohne, dass ein weiterer Schuss abgefeuert werden musste. Zwei LKWs kamen später und brachten zirka 15 Tote weg.
Theodor Greuel erinnerte sich (gemäß Aussage von August Greuel) daran, dass die Soldaten zuerst im Hof (Am Wittberg 5) mit erhobenen Händen zusammengetrieben wurden und dass er ihnen noch Wasser geben wollte, aber ein amerikanischer Offizier ihm den Eimer mit Schöpfkelle aus der Hand geschlagen habe.
Lloyd ließ die gefangenen Deutschen zu einem Innenhof bringen, der etwas die Strasse hinab lag. [Hierbei handelte es sich um den Innenhof des Hotel Roeb.] Nachdem dies passiert war, und Lloyd zurück ging um weiterhin das Gebiet bewachte, entdeckte er hinter dem Hügel wo die Deutschen gefangen genommen wurden, einen weinenden alten deutschen Soldaten auf einem Baumstumpf sitzend. Der Mann hatte keine Waffen und kooperierte und er sprach einige Minuten mit ihm. Der Mann erklärte, dass er früher ein Schullehrer war. Sein Fach war Englisch. Er weinte weil Hitler kürzlich alle Männer zwischen 14 und 65 zu den Waffen befohlen hatte. Er war 65 Jahre alt und arbeitete bis dahin auf einem Flugfeld. Er war für Lederreparaturarbeiten an Flugzeugen zuständig. Er hatte noch nie einen Schuss abgefeuert und wollte offensichtlich nicht da sein, wo er jetzt war. Lloyd brachte ihn zum gleichen Innenhof, der mit Kriegsgefangenen gefüllt war, und ließ ihn dort zurück.
Später hörte Lloyd, dass die Deutsche Armee eine Granate in diesen Hof geschossen hätten und fast alle deutschen Gefangenen getötet worden seien.
Dieses Blutbad findet in den Kriegsaufzeichnungen von Schevenhütte kaum Erwähnung. Lediglich in einem Brief aus 1946 schreibt der Gressenicher Gemeinde-Direktor an den Vater des gefallenen deutschen Soldaten Hermann Drewes, dass dieser am 22 Sep 1944 in Schevenhütte in amerikanische Kriegsgefangenschaft geriet und zusammen mit vielen anderen gefangenen Kameraden auf dem Hof des Hotels Roeb-Lenzen durch deutsche Granattreffer umkam, erinnert an dieses grauenvolle Ereignis. [Diese Information wird in dem 2004er Buch „Zerschossene Heimat“ (S. 40) von Günter von der Weiden bestätigt]
Erst 2012 erhielt Lloyd Stegeman die traurige Bestätigung, dass die Erzählungen seiner Kameraden über die Ereignisse im Hotel Roeb wahr waren. Da er derjenige war, der die Gefangennahme der Deutschen erreicht hatte, fühlte er sich auch noch siebzig Jahre später noch mitschuldig am Tod dieser Soldaten.
Lloyd selbst wurde am 16 Nov 1944 bei einem Mörserangriff in Schevenhütte verwundet und anschließend heim geschickt. Er erhielt wegen seiner Verwundung den Orden Purple Heart.
Während einer Deutschlandreise in 2009, und auf Anregung ihres Großvaters Lloyd, nachvollzog seine Enkelin Kelli Green einige seiner Stationen in Schevenhütte. Von Heinz Wittmann wurde sie durch Schevenhütte begleitet. Da ein Reporter der lokalen amerikanischen Zeitschrift diese Geschichte interessant fand, schrieb er 2009 einen Artikel darüber.
2012 stellte Reiner Sauer für Lloyd Stegeman eine Übersicht der Familienverhältnisse des Hauses Wittberg 5 zusammen. Diese Zusammenstellung, sowie eine Kopie eines Ölgemäldes schickte er über Lloyd’s Nichte Kelli an ihn.
2019 traf Reiner Sauer seine Tochter Melanie Halverson geb. Stegeman im Wehebacher Hof. Melanie war unterwegs mit der Gruppe „Sons, daughters, grandchildren and veterans of the Hurtgen Forest" und besuchte die historischen Stätten u.a. Schevenhütte. [1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11] |
| _BIOG_EN_L |
My Grandfather’s Memories in Schevenhutte, Germany
In September of 1944, my grandfather and his battalion successfully invaded Germany from Belgium. Just one day before, grandpa had been awarded a Silver Star for bravery near Jagerhaus, Belgium. He and his four men were stationed near a fork in the road toward Germany, along with 7 other men. The seven men were spread out, on the lookout for Germans in the woods. Suddenly, a German man stepped into the road about 50 meters away from them and yelled, "Surrender, or die!” and then ducked away. Being the tank commander, my grandfather ordered his four men to get the tank ready. He was pissed that the other men hadn’t found the German, and jumped down from the tank to look for his soldiers. As soon as he landed he looked down, and saw that all seven of the young men were hiding under the tank, blubbering that they had seen a ton of Germans walking by on the other section of road. My grandfather couldn’t believe that this was happening! He decided to sneak up on the Germans, to see how many there were and what weapons they had. Some were standing at the fork in the road, and others were walking down the other road, not far behind the rest of grandpa’s battalion. He quickly ran back to the tank and radioed their battalion, warning them that about 1,000 Germans were heading their way. All of them knew that the Germans had seen them, and discussed what to do: try running away or get captured? My grandpa decided that he was going to run, and his four men decided they would join him. The other seven men decided to stay and surrender. Grandpa instructed them to burn the tank. He and the four others waited farther off in the woods, waiting for the Germans to approach the tank. They were curious to see what would happen to the seven men. Strangely, the Germans never came. Grandpa’s battalion ended up capturing the 1,000 men. The next day their posse entered Germany, and settled in Schevenhutte.
My grandfather, Lloyd Stegeman, was a tank commander in the 899th Battalion, 1st Armored Division under General Patton. His battalion was the first to break into Germany, and they ended up settling in the small town of Schevenhutte in September of 1944. As the troops invaded this small town, my grandfather remembers that the town people were restless, probably because they didn’t know what the Americans were going to do with them. My grandfather will never forget the day that they set up camp on a farm just outside of Schevenhutte. He remembers that it was near the Hurtgen Forest. One unique thing he remembers about the family’s farmstead was that one side of their barn was built into a hill, so the barn only had three sides. Not only that, but the barn and the house were connected, and a tall fence surrounded the farmstead. This particular farmstead was also near an apple orchard. After looking at a map of the town, he thinks that it was located off Schevenhütte’s main street, on the road that leads to Duren. He vividly remembers a middle-aged woman standing outside on her porch with a milk pail in her hand, crying as the soldiers set up camp on their land. Later that day, he saw that the milk pail was sitting empty on the porch. Having grown up on a farm, Lloyd knew that it was about time for cows to be milked. He grabbed the pail and milked the cows for them, and set in back on their porch. He ended up doing this every day for the three months that he camped there. Grandpa always smiles when he remembers how surprised they were that he didn’t keep the milk for himself. Soon after this, he began meeting different members of the family that lived there. He met Mama, Papa, Mary, Agnes, Wolfgang, Peter and Sherlotte. My grandfather never wanted to know their last name for safety reasons. When grandpa introduced himself, they couldn’t pronounce his name correctly, so they decided to call him "Ludwig” instead. He and Papa liked to smoke pipes together, and Papa even offered him an expensive wooden pipe to keep. Grandpa didn’t take it, because he knew how expensive it was. He also wondered if Papa was a Nazi, because it was odd that he was young and at home. Nevertheless, Papa was kind to him, and he to Papa. Mama was always doing nice things for my grandfather. She told him that if he gave her sugar and flour, she would bake him pie. He was very good friends with the cook, so he gave her the ingredients, and Mama made him some apple pies. She ate a slice to show them that they weren’t poisoned, and returned the extra sugar to my grandfather. One day my grandpa also got sick with dysentery, and Sherlotte (the youngest of the family, probably six years old) found out about it. She told Mama, and so Mama made him medicine. He recovered quickly.
My grandfather also has a few interesting memories of the children in the family. Wolfgang (about 16 years old) was the only person in the family my grandfather didn’t like. He figures that he had been in the Hitler Youth group, since was quite the rebel-rouser. Every time Wolfgang would rev his motorcycle engine, Germans would start shooting at the Americans from the forest. Wolfgang had his motorcycle taken away because of that. A few times, he also tried to make home-made firecrackers and throw them out the 2nd story window. He almost had to be taken away, but he ended up behaving himself so he didn’t get taken prisoner. Sherlotte was the youngest of the children, and all of the guys adored her. She was extremely well behaved for such a little kid. She was always curious about what the American guys were doing, and was always poking around the camp. Her favorite game in the whole world was checkers. She would oftentimes walk out to the camp, climb into the tanks, and ask if they’d play checkers with her. They watched over her like she was their own child; she reminded a lot of men of their children back home. Mary and Agnes were both in their late teens or early twenties. He thought Agnes was beautiful, and said that if he didn’t have a girlfriend (my grandmother) waiting back home for him, he would’ve asked her to come back to the United States with him. In November of 1944, Agnes sent Sherlotte to get a picture of grandpa for her. He gave her one, and asked if Sherlotte would get a picture of Agnes for him. Unfortunately the next day, my grandfather got wounded. He remembers that the camp was very lively that day; a lot of American Military Police (M.P.’s) came to camp, and they were getting ready to send hundreds of planes over the forest to bomb the Germans hiding there. Grandpa saw them both in the distance, and Agnes waved to him with a picture in her hand, but he wasn’t allowed to go over there because the M.P.’s wouldn’t allow it. He was put on a plane and sent back home since his hand was injured. It was November 16th, 1944, and it was the last time he saw them. He wishes that he could’ve gotten that picture from Agnes; it would help to find that family today.
Even though the story about "his interesting German family” is his favorite to tell, my grandpa has a few others from the time he spent Schevenhutte. One such story is about the day my grandfather found the smiling German medic.
Grandpa Lloyd always took the morning shift (to guard camp) from about 3 a.m. to daylight every day. One morning, he was sitting on his tank, gazing out into the Hurtgen forest, when he saw a rabbit. The rabbit was near the farmstead, playing along the wall. Soon, it hopped toward the corner of the wall, peeked around it, and scurried back quickly. My grandfather was worried after the rabbit repeated this sequence multiple times, because common sense would dictate that something was behind the corner. Alarmed, he rose from the tank and walked towards that area. As he got there, he spied a tiny German medic walking past, and told him to surrender. The medic was a tiny, short man with a large smile plastered on his face. The medic surrendered without a problem, but my grandfather quickly developed a big knot in his stomach: medics are always behind the army lines, helping with the aftermath of a battle…there hadn’t been a battle yet, and this medic obviously wasn’t aiding anyone. It didn’t help that the medic continued to grin widely after being caught; what reason did that guy have to be smiling so happily, he just got captured! After the medic was secured, he ran to the area he caught the medic and turned the corner. Not more than a dozen meters away stood 100 or more Germans. He radioed for back-up, and another tank and gunmen came quickly. Using their machine guns, they opened fire for a few seconds, and then yelled at them to surrender. All of them surrendered without another shot fired. He had them moved to a courtyard further down the road, and two trucks had to come and take the dead. After this happened, Lloyd was securing the area, he realized that an old German soldier was sitting on a stump over the hill from where the Germans were captured, crying. The guy had no weapons and was cooperative, so he and the man talked together for a few minutes. He had been a school teacher when he was younger, he had taught English. He was crying because Hitler had recently mandated that all men aged 14-65 had to report to active duty. This gentleman was 65, and was working at the airfields at the time. His job was mending the leather in airplanes. He had never shot a gun before, and obviously didn’t want to be there. Grandfather walked with him to the courtyard filled with P.O.W.S. and dropped him off. Grandpa heard rumors that later that week, the Germans dropped a shell into the courtyard and killed almost all of the German prisoners. He still doesn’t know if that is true or not.
My grandfather and his buddies were walking through the woods one day along the barbed wire fence they had erected, when they came upon a freshly dead deer that had been in a brawl with a shell. Growing up in Minnesota, my grandpa was used to hunting and eating deer. Not only did he love deer meat, but they didn’t get much meat in the army, so they decided to take a break and cook the deer. They had been walking near the roadside that lead toward Belgium, and knew that an exquisite, abandoned house with an expensive oven was nearby. Grandpa always gets worked-up when he tells us why this grand house was abandoned. His troops had let the German owners stay there, but had decided to search the house a few weeks after settling in the area. They found a picture of a man in a Nazi uniform in one of the back rooms, and decided to thoroughly scour the house. In the attic, they found a radio… that the man of the house had been using to contact the Nazis. The man was taken prisoner, and the family was made to leave the house. My grandfather wasn’t there when it happened, but heard the story about the beautiful, empty house. Back to the deer: A few men gutted the deer and carried the meat to that house. They built up a fire in the oven, and soon after the house got shelled. Grandpa and the men hadn’t thought about it, but the house had been abandoned for a few weeks, and suddenly seeing smoke rise from its’ chimney would definitely raise alarms for the Germans. Sadly, the small group had to escape from the house and the surrounding area, leaving the uneaten deer in the oven. Later that afternoon, my grandfather got wounded and was sent home.
When grandpa got wounded he was on a hill in the Hurtgen forest with a few men, standing near his tank. That day, they were planning on sending a few hundred planes over the forest to clear out the Germans, and my grandfather was preparing. They must’ve been spotted on the hill, because a shell suddenly fell and exploded near them, wounding them all. Shrapnel to the hand caused my grandfathers fingers to fall limply into his glove, and his thumb was barely there. They got rushed away to the post, and he was sent to France to get surgery. A few months later, he was sent back home.
Overall, grandpa feels that his battalion treated the civilians much better than the following troops that came to Schevenhutte. For example, they didn’t steal their livestock, vegetables, or any other goods. One day, Lloyd and his men were guarding an area when someone hollered at them to come over. A guy had found an expensive, brand new German car that had been covered in someone’s garage. The men looked it over for awhile, but ultimately left it alone. He felt that the newer boys that came were troublemakers and didn’t respect the civilian’s property. As he gets older, he always wonders about what he could’ve done differently; he has a lot of regrets, but only tells us one. The day that he captured the medic and soldiers, he wishes that they hadn’t opened fire on them. What bothers grandpa to this day is that this group of Germans barely had any guns or ammunition. He hadn’t realized it until after the fact, but he believes that they would’ve cooperated if he had asked them to surrender without shooting at them, thus saving the lives of at least fifteen people.
[Kelli Green, 20 April 2012]
Lloyd Harold Stegeman, of Mora, MN, passed away on Friday September 14, 2018 at the St. Cloud VA Medical Center. He was 98 years old. Lloyd was born on December 1, 1919 in Mora, Minnesota to parents Conrad and Ethel (Ulrich) Stegeman. He attended the Harding Country School through the 8th grade. On March 22, 1942, Lloyd entered the United States Army and served overseas in the European theater during WWII. Lloyd was a tank commander and part of the troops that landed on Utah Beach. He was awarded the Silver Star for his bravery in action, helping to save more than 2000 U.S. soldiers. Lloyd was later wounded near Schevenhutte, Germany and awarded the Purple Heart. He was honorably discharged on February 16, 1946. He returned harne to Minnesota where he worked for the Mora Creamery for a year before beginning farming fulltime. Lloyd was united in marriage to June Katherine Kenely on June 16, 1945 an the Gordhammer farm in Mora. Following their marriage they made their home an the family farm where they lived until June's death in March of 2005. Lloyd continued to live an the farm for a few more years until moving to Eastwood Senior Living in Mora in 2015. In 2016, Lloyd made a final move to the St. Cloud Veteran's Medical Center where he spent his last years. Lloyd loved to dance and play the accordion (that he acquired on the Utah Beach during his time in the service). He liked tending to a large garden and driving his tractor and doing field work. He enjoyed fishing, playing cards, and traveling with June and his family to Arizona and Branson. Lloyd was active with countless Army reunions across the country and was able to be a part of the Honor Flight in 2012. Lloyd loved family gathering and meeting up with the breakfast group at Hardee's for biscuits & gravy and conversation. Lloyd will be dearly missed by his family and f riends. Lloyd was preceded in death by his parents; wife June; grandson Ramie James Stegeman; brother Roger (Ramona) Stegeman; sisters, Hazel (Maurice Clark and William Brockman), Marion (Ralph) Williams, and lrene (Magnus) Risdahl; and brother-in-law Roy Faust. He is survived by his 7 children, Robin (Kazumi), Wade (Sally), Melanie (Bob) Halverson, Wendy (Dwight) Nelson, Lanny (Rhonda), Lynn (Karen), and Rhonda (Dale) Green; 19 grandchildren and 42 great-grandchildren; brother Vernon (Vickie) Stegeman; sister Clara Faust; many nieces, nephews, other relatives and friends. [2, 3] |
1919 - 2018 (98 Jahre)
[1, 2] 