The riflemen charged the building, preceded by a flurry of grenades, and the cry "hadgrenaten!" Well, we will call it a mumble, and a single grenade. And I needed a whole lot more than that. With half my forces routed, I ceded the field to the victorious Americans.
My senior leader cleared the concerns of the men in the woods. Accurate fire in the north wounded a corporal.
The north platoon was pinned and routed. The Americans then took the central building, forcing action!
In the woods, the MG 42 reaped it's toll, but the Americans soon figured out to always keep them under suppressing fire. In the North, things just got worse. The middle platoon finally got moving, throwing smoke to the building, and having the second MG42 pour it on south.