By:Laura Lane Mervosh
"I was given pills to help me to stay awake. We were surrounded by Germans. Most of the soldiers that I was with were killed."
Dominick Palmiotto
World War II Veteran
Dominick Palmiotto of Bellmore was a soldier with a conscience. Awarded the Bronze Star, he fought in five major battles, and when World War II ended, the private first-class returned home unscathed. He was fortunate.
"The Hurtgen Forest was well protected by the Germans," Palmiotto remembered. "There were approximately 1,600 of us there, and only 33 survived."
The Herald recently interviewed Palmiotto and is running his story this week to commemorate Flag Day.
Palmiotto had been with the 109th Infantry of the 28th Division during the Battle of the Bulge, where U.S. military forces suffered tremendous losses.
In 1943, Palmiotto volunteered to fight for his country at age 19, having no idea of the danger that lay before him. As a member of the Pioneers, he was responsible for blowing up bridges and placing land mines. On several occasions, Palmiotto's strong survival instincts kept him alive.
"We were told to go on patrol to knock off a German truck that was carrying supplies," Palmiotto recalled. "We had land mines that we were going to place on the road. When we got to the end of the Hurtgen Forest, we waited until dark. I was called ahead by the leader, and he pointed out where the truck would be traveling."
Palmiotto could hear the German sentries and, feeling vulnerable, asked his superior if he would accompany him any further. Told that he'd have to go it alone, Palmiotto refused, saying that he'd go if they went together.
"They decided to think of something else to do to solve that problem," Palmiotto recalled. " I would have never gotten to the road. It was a suicide mission."
On another occasion, regardless of the dangers involved, Palmiotto thought his duty was to be a part of a rescue mission. A fellow soldier had been left wounded in German territory, in the Hurtgen Forest, and Palmiotto, along with a few others felt obliged to return and save him. In the rolling woodland of the forest, 20 miles long and 10 miles deep, fir trees loomed overhead at 100 feet tall. The land was broken by woodland trails, deep gorges and swampy meadows. The forest terrain was more challenging than any land they'd yet experienced. Even worse, the winter of 1944 was one of Belgium's coldest, with icy streams and deep snow making mobility difficult.
"We had to wait for dusk. It was cold, and snow covered the ground," he said. "We waited in a pillbox that we had been using as a CP." A pillbox was a concrete structure that the Germans had built to house machine guns and other weapons. Waiting inside, the Nazis would hide until they spotted Allied soldiers. The Germans would then shoot from a slit in the concrete, taking the troops by surprise. The abandoned pillbox that Palmiotto used to conceal himself had been previously destroyed, with the door blown off, but it was still useful as a hideout.
"We had used it as an office and were happy to find it because the German planes were dropping 500-pound bombs," Palmiotto explained. "While we were in the pillbox, we were safe [from most everything except a direct hit]."
"As my father approached the wounded soldier, protected only by the pine trees, he was fortunate not to come across any Germans," Palmiotto's eldest son, Sandy, said. "Hitler knew that the Allies were going through Belgium and France to try to get to Germany. So, he focused his strength in the Hurtgen Forest." The four soldiers managed to pick up the wounded GI, whose condition was critical, and return him to the medics. Palmiotto to this day isn't sure if the soldier survived.
During the Battle of the Bulge, there really weren't any definitive combat lines between the Germans and the Allies. The Nazis, who following orders to take no prisoners, slaughtered the Allied soldiers.
"I was given pills to help me to stay awake," Palmiotto said. "We were surrounded by Germans. Most of the soldiers that I was with were killed."
The 28th division was hit so hard that there was not only a shortage of men, but also officers. Palmiotto was chosen pick up a new lieutenant at one of the military bases. After walking through the snow-covered Hurtgen Forest, he finally reached the Army tent, ready to accompany the officer. The officer was in his late 20s and had been newly released from the field hospital. It was dusk when they left, and Private Palmiotto led the way. The lieutenant, however, never made it. As Palmiotto walked a few feet ahead, he suddenly heard a shot. Turning, he saw the lieutenant falling to the ground, shot in the head by a sniper. Taking cover, he waited. Eventually, he saw a German medic. Bending over the dead soldier, the medic held the lieutenant's head in his arms and bandaged the wound. He then checked the officer's pockets and, coming up with a gold pocket watch, laid it on the dead man's chest. Looking around, he quietly walked away. This was the closest Palmiotto came to death, and he is still confused by the medic's actions. Uncertain whether he did the right thing by not killing the German medic; he kept the details of the lieutenant's death a secret until recently, when he told his sons.
"I never told my boys much," Palmiotto said. "It was all too horrible to mention. As they grew up, they got curious and started asking questions, so I complied."
Now 77 years old, Dominick Palmiotto has led a full life. A Bellmore resident for more than 40 years, he became a contractor. Married with two sons, Sandy and James, he later went into building.
"We never heard these stories growing up," Sandy said. "We are trying to organize a family trip to Belgium [the Battle of the Bulge monument and a museum are located there], to see where my dad went."
"It was a real experience," Palmiotto said. " I went through it, and was lucky enough to live through it."
