02/07/2026
STORIES OF 99ers.
In combat, the difference between life and death hangs by a thin thread and is not only a matter of luck. Sometimes it depends on who really wants to cut that thread.
John G. Messenger and his wife Grace visited us in September 1992, we toured the battlefield, the different places where the 99th saw action and of course his old company sector. On the way, he told the following story.
Second son of a British father, Robert P. Messenger, and a Belgian mother, Ghislaine Monnoyer, John G. Messenger’s prosperous life started in Brussels, Belgium, on November 2, 1925. The family was traveling around the globe and in 1942 they left Australia for the US. They took residence in Cook County, Illinois where John applied for US citizenship to join the war effort. He was eventually drafted on February 21, 1944, at age 18, joining the 99th Division at Camp Maxey, Paris, Texas, after basic training. John was attached to Co B of the 393rd Infantry as rifleman.
On November 09, 1944, a few days after his 19th birthday, John arrived on the front line and found his new residence – a foxhole along the International Highway, right on the border between Belgium and Germany.
“… We were deployed at the edge of the forest…” remembered John, “… and we were looking into Germany. From my foxhole, when the weather was clear, I could see Germans moving around their bunkers, some 600y in front of us…”.
John continues : “… Our daily occupations were to watch our front and keep warm. It started to snow and all became quiet. One day, I had to answer the call of nature but I was reluctant to leave the rudimentary comfort of my foxhole and squeeze through the snow to the CP area were we had latrines. Finally the call needed an urgent solution and I cautiously left my foxhole. Rather than going to the CP area, I made just a few yards and dropped my pants. Not an easy task. Quickly removing equipment, trousers, longjohn and take the better possible position in the snow. I was doing the job when a rifle shot broke the silence. The bullet hit right between my legs. I fell backward in the snow. In complete panic, I grabbed my pants, dragging in the process a whole lot of snow in it and dove in my foxhole. The shot came from the German lines and to this day, I am convinced the German sniper did it on purpose. He could have easily killed me, he only shot once and probably died laughing when he saw me running back to my hole. I spent the rest of the day trying to get rid of the snow filling my pants and having them dry. I had to wait for darkness to get out again and pick up my rifle and equipment…”
John was speaking French fluently, he was temporarily attached to the Regimental S-2 section in Krinkelt as an interpreter. He went back to the front on December 14, 1944, just two days before the German attack. He was fortunate to survive the assault and withdrew to the Elsenborn Ridge with his battalion. He was evacuated with trench foot on December 19.
After the war, John remained in the US working as manager for International Harvester Ltd. He moved back to UK after retirement where he passed away on September 21, 1993.