THE MAN WHO CRAWLED THROUGH THE EARTH

Daniel Mercer grew up in Johnstown, Pennsylvania,
in the shadow of Cambria Iron Works, in the coal seams of Laurel Run.

At fourteen he entered the mines —
3-foot ceilings, 8-hour shifts on his belly,
and darkness so complete it silenced the world.

He learned three truths underground:

1. Frozen ground behaves like fractured rock. There are always hidden seams.
2. Your body can fit anywhere your shoulders can fit — if you know how to move.
3. Panic kills faster than cave-ins.

He survived an 11-hour entombment in 1938, digging himself out by hand as his lamp died.

When draft notices arrived,
Mercer signed up.

The Army put him in combat engineers —
a man who understood earth better than officers understood maps.

He worked minefields in Belgium.
Blew obstacles.
Saved trucks.
Disarmed bombs.

But the most important thing he ever did —
he did with wire cutters and a coal miner’s instincts.

THE NAMES ON THE EXECUTION LIST

On February 10th, partisans killed two German officers.
The German commander selected eight American POWs for reprisal:

SSgt. Thomas Henderson — Mercer’s childhood friend

Cpl. Michael Ortiz

Pvt. Robert Flynn

Pvt. James Morrison

Pvt. David Chen

Pvt. Eugene Williams

Pvt. John Davies

Pvt. Frank Sullivan

Scheduled for death at 07:15 a.m. on February 15th.

Battalion command reviewed rescue options:

Mechanized raid? Guards would shoot the prisoners.

Artillery? They’d die instantly.

Air insertion? No drop zone.

Night assault? Same outcome.

Colonel Matthews said the words everyone in the tent hated:

“They’re gone.”

But Mercer didn’t accept that.

THE PLAN NO SOLDIER WOULD PROPOSE

Mercer told Captain Howard the truth:

“I can reach them.
Frozen ground doesn’t stop a miner.”

Howard brought him to Colonel Matthews.

Mercer gave the mission timeline:

600 yards of open frozen fields

Three layers of wire

Searchlights sweeping every 4 minutes

Guard rotation at 0400

Dogs

Machine guns

No backup

No radio

No noise

No hope

Matthews asked:

“What are the odds this works?”

Mercer didn’t talk about odds.

He said:

“If it was me in that barn, Tommy Henderson would come for me.”

Matthews gave approval — unofficial, deniable.

The Army would deny the mission ever happened if Mercer was caught.

THE CRAWL THROUGH HELL

Mercer blackened his face with burnt cork.
Ditch the helmet.
Wear a wool cap.
Wrap the wire cutters in cloth.
Tape the holster silent.
Memorize the wire layout.

At 8:00 p.m., he shook Howard’s hand and disappeared into the dark.

The first 200 yards he crawled through a drainage ditch —
12 inches of cold cover.

Past that ditch lay open farmland, frozen solid.

Mercer used a miner’s technique:
slide crawling — lying completely flat, dragging forward three inches at a time using fingertips and boot edges.

No elbows.
No knees.
No noise.

By 11:20 p.m., German patrol boots crushed frost 15 feet from his head.

He held his breath while their smoke drifted over him.

At 2:30 a.m., he reached the outer fence —
four strands of frozen barbed wire.

His wire cutters barely worked in the cold.

Each strand broke with a metallic ping.

The sound felt as loud as artillery.

The searchlight passed overhead.

He cut all four.

THE CONCERTINA AND TRIPWIRE GAUNTLET

Next came the concertina wire —
razor coils designed to shred anything that touched them.

Miners threaded tools through cave coils without touching them.

Mercer did the same with his body.

Eleven minutes of bleeding forearms, silent curses, and impossible contortions.

Finally:
The tripwire field.

Seven wires.

Six inches off the ground.

Each tied to flares or alarms.

Mercer mapped every wire by touch —
in total darkness —
and memorized their positions.

By 3:35 a.m., he lay against the barn wall.

He tapped a mining signal on the hinge:

• pause
•• pause
•••

Inside, a gaunt figure rose.

Henderson.

THE BREAKOUT

The guards were by the door.

The rear wall was rotted.

Mercer needed fifteen minutes.

He weakened the boards the way miners weakened failing beams — from the inside seam.

At 3:58 a.m., shift change.

Two new guards.

Fifteen minutes until all hell.

Mercer whispered:

“Tommy, push.”

The boards split with a crack.

A guard shouted.

Mercer ripped boards away, pulled Henderson through, then the others.

One guard rushed the hole — Mercer knocked him cold.
The second guard was dragged down and blocked behind the door.

Machine guns started warming up.

They had 60 seconds before the compound woke up.

Mercer shouted:

“Wire — follow exactly where I step!”

Seven men followed.

Sullivan tripped a wire.

The flare went up.

The sky turned white.

German rifles opened up.

Mercer grabbed Flynn — shot through the leg — and carried him.

Dragging a man in frozen fields.
No cover.
Searchlights everywhere.

But he kept moving.

THE DOGS

At 200 yards, he heard dogs.

Three released.

Two followed the main group.

One followed him.

Mercer broke away, creating a fake scent trail.

The dog lunged first.

Mercer let it bite his jacketed arm — miners used the same trick with underground dogs.

The handler appeared.

Mercer shot him once.

The dog fled.

He sprinted back toward the others.

They were pinned in a shallow ravine, machine guns sweeping the ground.

Mercer looked at the map in his head:
The ravine connected to a deeper channel.

He told Henderson:

“Crawl north. Now. I’ll draw them.”

Henderson:
“You’ll die.”

Mercer:
“If I stay, maybe. If you don’t move, definitely.”

He fired, moved, fired again, moved again —
one man convincing an entire German unit an attack was happening on the flank.

He emptied his magazines.

The Germans committed to him.

Eight starving prisoners crawled north unseen.

THE EXTRACTION

At 5:52 a.m.,
the entire group stumbled into Allied lines.

Every prisoner alive.

Flynn in Mercer’s arms.

Williams half-delirious with hypothermia.

Davies bleeding from the shoulder.

Chen and Morrison dragging each other.

Henderson sobbing as medics lifted him onto a stretcher.

Mercer collapsed against a tree.

He’d crawled, fought, carried, and led men for 9 hours and 22 minutes.

AFTERMATH

The evidence was indisputable:

Cut wire

Broken barn wall

German search parties

Radio chaos

Not one American casualty.
Eight condemned men rescued.
All alive.

Colonel Matthews wrote the citation the same day:

“Extraordinary heroism… infiltration of fortified compound… complete disregard for personal safety… rescued eight American prisoners scheduled for execution.”

The Distinguished Service Cross was approved on March 3rd.

General Courtney Hodges pinned it on him.

Henderson, gaunt and recovering, said:

“Danny Mercer didn’t rescue us.
He dug us out.
Same as the mine.
Same as always.”