Mishka nodded in satisfaction as the second engineer looked up suddenly, his dirt smeared face grinning as she nodded, hissing outwards, ‘Prime both explosives and let’s get going!’
Pavel and Oleg walked wearily through a darkened forest, the younger Russian glaring around into the trees in distain and frustration, an unlit cigarette between his clenched lips to quell his rising and painful hunger, unfortunately none of the four men possessing any matches or a lighter. Trudging in silence, Oleg was struggling to stifle a wide smile, his younger friend grinding his teeth and sighing deeply every forty or fifty metres, his stomach rumbling loudly as he supressed burp after burp from indigestion, the two partisans behind also grinning and silently attempting to predict their young countryman’s physical outbursts of misery for amusement.
As the path weaved through the dark and foreboding trees, Oleg listened fondly to the scuffling of animals and bird calls within the forest, the distant hoot of an owl as he smiled further, embracing the faint outline of the trees through the mirk, the bushes to either side and the animals that seemed to welcome them into their forest. The snort nearby was of a doe, the animal studying the humans closely as they passed, the young Russian grinning as Pavel’s stomach gurgled loudly next to him, a faint longing whisper, ‘Can we not shoot something to eat?’
Oleg turned slowly, his eyes glistening and body shivering in the cold as he whispered naively, ‘Do you not hear the forest? We are at one here…even the trees and animals are protecting us now, the land has risen with us…the fascists are doomed.’
Chapter Twelve: Escape Route
Leutnant Hausser ducked and weaved through the trees, gasping for breath as the shadows around him darted forward. Rifle and machine gun fire echoed through the darkness, muffled confused shouts as the Russian soldiers attempted to find the fleeing Germans. Explosions erupted behind and subsequent flashes through the trees, the artillery shells from Grossdeutschland pensively targeted behind the brief muzzle illuminations on the slope, attempting to hit any advancing enemy soldiers.
Major Wolff ran from his bunker, thrusting a helmet over his head and colliding with the returning junior officer as he shouted over his shoulder, ‘Heinrich…order more artillery. Get our mortars to target their bunkers and slit trenches!’ Grappling with the subordinate commander as they slipped against the trench wall, he shouted further, readjusting the helmet, ‘How many men are moving forward?’
Explosions tore across the defences, dirt and debris tossed onto their ducked heads and shoulders as the trenches lit up from the flashes, several other soldiers flinching and lowering nervously as the officer spluttered in reply, ‘One forward section…some reserves are moving up to cover their positions…’
Wolff scrambled upwards, pushing the junior officer away in disgust, ‘Gott in Himmel (god in heaven)! One section? We will lose them too!’ He thrust forward, pushing past two soldiers tucked behind the defence wall as further dull thumps from behind the lines resounded across the trenches, the artillery firing another salvo.
Scrambling along the trench, Wolff passed several more soldiers moving forward, his hands grasping the sides of the wooden defences to steady himself as further explosions tossed earth across the positions, helmets were thrust below the walls for cover around him as the men protected their faces. The major continued, swearing under his breath as he rounded several bends in the deep defences, heading back into the trees and a bunker he knew could prove useful.
Machine gun fire echoed from the front line, his teeth gritting as he heard the ‘pop’ of mortars nearby, muffled explosions in the distance and a desperate shout from the German line, ‘Fire at the flanks…we have men out there!’
He ducked once more as an explosion ripped through the trees ahead, showering him with debris and shattered branches, shaking his head from the clanks on his helmet as he staggered on. Rounding the final bend, he slipped on the two sharply lowering steps, his groan loud as he twisted his ankle, ‘Scheisse!’
Stumbling into the low bunker, his eyes strained against the candlelight as the tarpaulin door cover was thrust back, several startled soldiers glancing upwards in alarm and scrambling to their feet, their shoulders hunched against the low roof. Dust fell from the logged ceiling as another shell burst outside, the men stiffening to attention as several saluted around their bunks, Wolff shouting, ‘Get your rifles…I want you all beyond the front line to get our patrol back…get outside now and wait for your officer!’ He thrust past the soldiers, moving into the next smaller room, six other men rising abruptly to their feet from two lines of three beds, another two rooms beyond.
Glancing round, Major Wolff indicated to the men frantically, the candle flames flickering from air disturbance, ‘Where is your unit commander?’
One younger soldier stiffened to attention, saluting nervously, ‘The officer went to the rear sir…extra supplies he had located…’
Major Wolff grimaced, a hand rising to his forehead in frustration as he considered the situation, ‘Very well…I will lead you, gather the men outside…’ His eyes widened as he glimpsed a tall moustached soldier rising wearily from the furthest bunk, the man originally concealed behind the others, the major grinning as he recognised a couple of the other infantrymen, ‘I see we have new additions…good.’ He indicated to the taller man, ‘Perhaps it is time to redeem yourself…you are my second in command sergeant. Keep your men close and together, I am not losing any in the dark.’ He spun round towards the entrance muttering, ‘It will be an interesting chat with your officer when he returns…I think Herr Hausser may have his new unit, if he is still alive…’
Hase knelt down into the undergrowth as two Russian soldiers ran past in the dark, shouting as they moved forward with bayoneted rifles, the Hiwi ducking further as others sprinted past behind, his body lowered in a small thickly bushed copse, breathing erratic as his fear rose. Several shots rang out to the south, a muffled cry and two grenade explosions, his frame tensing as further shouts came from outside the trees, a Russian captain frantically ordering his men forward.
Leutnant Hausser lowered painfully to a crouch amongst some trees, the silhouettes of four soldiers bent down around him with their rifles held forward, his tone a hiss, ‘We regroup here for a couple of minutes, let the stragglers catch us up…hold your fire until I say…’ He stared out into the opening before them, muffled explosions and rifle shots ringing out to either side as isolated soldiers took shots at their pursuers.
Water droplets fell onto the defenders from the branches overhead, their Kar 98 rifles extended through the bushes and undergrowth, the officer’s eyes straining into the gloom as he gritted his teeth. Several shadows ran across the far end of the clearing, two soldiers lifting their rifles as he raised his hand, waving it, ‘Not now…Russkies…they don’t know where we are!’
They stared out to the north, the rectangular field rising slightly between two ditches with trees and bushes bordering the terrain. They had scrambled along the ditch to the right, boots soaked from muddied water, their bodies low as shouts rang out on either side. Several explosions had erupted behind and in front of them, the soldiers and commander becoming confused and disorientated.
Hausser raised his MP40 nervously, glimpsing movement and shadows in the distance, the rattle of machine gun fire to their left and a scream, his voice low, ‘Russkie machine guns on either flank…we need to be careful…’
The young wounded German lowered next to him, wincing with one hand over his bleeding shoulder, his rifle grasped in his free hand, voice shaking, ‘Herr Leutnant, we cannot wait too long…the Russkies are everywhere…’
The officer turned his head back to the field, staring to see out as a whoosh of artillery shells swept overhead, the explosions flashing through the trees further north, the defenders instinctively lowering their heads. Long shadows were briefly cast across the ground, Hausser stiffening as he glimpsed two ducked helmets in the ditch to the right, some heavy overgrown bushes and a f
allen tree obscuring their upper figures from the north, several more shadows running across the end of the field as machine gun fire once more erupted to the left. His arm rose abruptly to point, ‘Two men, help those soldiers…they are ours…the rest cover, then we move.’
Lowering his head to stare along the barrel of the MP40, the bushes rustled to the right, two soldiers skirting the field carefully to reach the ditch, further shouting and rifle shots to the right and left as they ducked, two distant explosions behind as Russian mortars fired short of the German line. He bit his lower lip as three more shadows ran across the top of the field, several more emerging behind and beginning to advance at a wary half crouch diagonally towards them, his head turning to stare at the soldiers in the ditch.
The two men had reached the others, one grasping a wounded man, the other turning to stare in the direction of the advancing Russians as more emerged from the treeline, the view constricted by the fallen tree and bushes. The top of the field was beginning to fill with spaced figures, rifles held before them as they jerked their heads from side to side nervously, several raising their weapons to shoulder height in readiness.
Further machine gun fire to the right, a distant scream for ‘Medic!’ as the officer glanced round, shaking his head in despondency at the four men with him, hissing, ‘We concentrate fire once the group gets back to the treeline…make the Russkies go to ground and then run…there are too many.’
Furtive and nervous nods around him, the wounded soldier grimacing in pain as he lifted his rifle slowly through the branches. Hausser squinted out into the field, watching two lowered soldiers struggle along the ditch with the wounded man, another backing behind, his rifle raised. A burst of machine gun fire erupted again to the right, several muffled explosions as the high pitched aircraft engine swept overhead once more, the pilot staring down in confused frustration at the numerous flashes across the darkened terrain, unable to decide exactly where the enemy was.
Drawing breath, Leutnant Hausser realised the retreating soldiers would soon be visible as the Russian infantry advanced, his heart pounding as he considered there were now nearly thirty soldiers advancing towards them. Glancing round nervously, he realised the men in the ditch would quickly be cut down if seen, his voice a low determined hiss, ‘Make ready…choose your targets…’
The rifle in the ditch bucked as the alarmed soldier fired, the first couple of enemy soldiers emerging round the fallen tree, the crack resounding across the field as Hausser’s MP40 kicked back into his shoulder, the rifles around him firing as explosions rocked the landscape further north, the soundwaves deafening from eruptions flashing through the trees behind the advancing infantry.
Four Russians crumpled and fell, the rest throwing themselves down as screams filled the night air, Hausser backing through the trees as branches dragged on his combat jacket, his voice raised and becoming frantic as he heard the faint plane engine scream bank round sharply once more, ‘Get back…’ A grenade bounced forward, the puff of smoke signalling the soldiers to leave as it began to billow upwards, the shroud drifting into the trees.
The soldiers turned beside him, lunging through the undergrowth and breaking branches, Hausser forcing his way to the right, rifles cracking across the field as the Russians returned fire. Bullets whipped past, smacking against the tree trunks and bark as he was showered in shattered wood, the young commander ducking instinctively and in rising terror as he thrust forward.
Reaching the edge of the trees, he dropped down, his body crashing into the ditch as cold water splashed around his boots and legs, a bullet sweeping overhead. The MP40 rose once more as he frantically grasped for a fresh magazine, his back smacking against the sloped ditch wall. Firing the last burst as the submachine gun clicked empty, he glanced along the water and mud filled depression, thrusting the fresh ammunition into the base of his weapon.
His eyes widened as he saw the four soldiers had not progressed much further and were crouched low, two attempting to return fire on the enemy, unaware from their position and the fallen tree that the upper field was full of Russians. He shouted in exasperation, two of the men spun round, ‘Down here…there are more coming!’
He thrust himself to the opposite rise of the ditch, the submachine gun chattering as he fired a burst blindly into the field, seeing only shadows as the engine noise above escalated, the plane banking hard to fly overhead.
Further rifle shots were returned, the young commander ducking back as he heard muffled shouts, the Russian officer barking at his men to charge the lone defender, his teeth gritting as the four men scrambled along the ditch, one supporting another as he clawed at the bank. Then two flashes, the four twisting silhouettes illuminated as Hausser ducked his head, another third grenade exploding on the bank just above his head, shrieks echoing around him as he glanced up, dirt and mud smacking against his helmet and shoulders.
Grimacing as he saw the fallen bodies, he glimpsed one was still moving, the helmeted infantryman raising his head and staring stunned towards him, the wounded soldier’s eyes bloodied and darkened with dark liquid coming from his mouth, the man’s voice strained in a hiss, ‘Go Sir…leave…’
Hausser hesitated, then nodded, realising the situation was hopeless, their time short. Raising a hand briefly before exhaling, his body twisting as further bullets swept overhead, a hand reaching to his waist and pulling a stick grenade from the belt. Glancing back at the wounded coughing soldier, he saw the infantryman was doing the same, his body rolling painfully onto one side over the other lifeless prone figures as he struggled to unscrew the base.
Dropping the MP40 onto the steep bank, the officer twisted the base of the grenade, gripping the priming cord and wrenching it before hesitating, lowering his head as a volley of bullets swept into the trees, the bark cracking and shattering. Wary that the Russians were now targeting him directly, his arm extended quickly as he tossed the Stielhandgranate diagonally across the darkened field, the stick revolving in the air before dropping amongst the forward prone Russians, a frantic scream of alarm following. His shaking hands snatched the submachine gun and fired a quick burst into the darkness as an explosion tore through the trees to his left, the Russian plane sweeping south as the pilot glimpsed further muzzle flashes.
Glancing back at the stricken soldier, he saw the man toss the grenade out before reaching for another, their eyes meeting briefly in the mirk as the infantryman wrenched the base of the grenade free, pulling the cord and slumping backwards, the explosive clutched to his chest tightly. Hausser gasped, a charge of static seeming to surge up his spine as he struggled upwards, two eruptions illuminating the field as the explosions tossed three soldiers into the air, temporarily blinding the others.
Crashing into the trees, he was vaguely aware of the muffled explosion behind, the detonation killing his wounded countryman as he scrambled away. Bullets cracked against the trunks and saplings, several zipping past as he heard the frenzied ‘Hurrah’ behind, the Russian captain urging his men after the fleeing German.
Tearing through the undergrowth, branches and thorns dragged at his face and uniform, the MP40 dropping to one hand as he attempted to increase his speed, his legs painful and muscles seeming to scream from the uncomfortable crouched position in the ditch. Heart pounding, he sucked the stale night air into his pained chest, wheezing and coughing as he surged forward.
Breaking from the cover of trees, he sprinted across another field, his eyes darting form side to side for potential cover, boots pounding and slipping across the damp earth, his almost panic stricken mind considering he would be an easy shot from behind when the Russian riflemen reached the edge of the trees.
Machine gun fire rattled on either side, two muffled explosions in the trees on the flanks and a scream in Russian that made him jump, the unfortunate soldier stepping through a grenade trap in the darkness. Hausser darted from side to side, his eyes desperately scanning the black soil for somewhere to hide, his chest heaving as he ran, legs feeli
ng weak and jarred from the uneven ground. He gasped as several shadows emerged suddenly on the right, the five infantrymen low and raising their rifles further down the field as he shouted in Russian for them to get down, the soldiers ducking in confusion.
A large blast to the far right as a German artillery shell scored a direct hit on the farmhouse, flames and smoke billowing upwards as Hausser whined, the field bathed in light, his boots stumbling forward as he slipped then threw his body down onto the earth, rifle cracks behind indicating the Russians had reached the treeline.
Gasping as he slid across the earth briefly, he scrambled round, jarring his knees and elbows, the MP40 rising to fire as he twisted his body. Bursts from Russian Maxim machine guns to either side made him instinctively duck, realising he was near the forward positions. Looking up briefly, his heart pounded in fear as he glimpsed numerous flashes from the treeline to the north, several riflemen firing blindly as he pushed his helmet down into the earth, the five Russians ducked nearby shouting frantically that they were friends.
Pushing himself backwards slowly, he kept low, the rifle fire more sporadic and confused as his pursuers attempted to locate him or any other fleeing Germans. Stealing a glance round, he swore under his breath as he realised he was only half way across the field…the distance to the next wood too great for escape. Clenching his eyes, Hausser slowly and painfully pushed himself further across the cold earth, wary of making vigorous movement and hoping if he was seen, they would suppose he was just a fallen soldier in the confusion.
Bloody Citadel Page 18
