Rise of the Bloodied Phoenix

by Andrew McGregor

  Tatu was struggling to contain his rising rage, his tongue running across his lips as he glanced furtively towards the captain. The officer nodded nonchalantly, ‘Very well…you can have a couple of hours’ rest before we move out in the morning…bury your man in the orchard, there are some freshly dug graves there…’ He smirked, indicating towards the lorry, ‘At least you did not have to walk…I will thank the commander that provided you with transport…’ Captain Fuchs hesitated, then spoke again, his hand rising to point across the cobblestones as he turned away, ‘There are three more bodies in the corner over there…ensure they are buried alongside your man…one is a loyal Cossack, the other two are German soldiers killed by partisans, pay the usual respects, etc.’ He waves his hand dismissively, moving back to face Hausser, his eyes narrowing as he glanced slowly along the line.

  The driver stepped from his cab, stiffening to attention as Captain Fuchs turned to look at him in irritation, ‘Well, what is it…do you not need to get back to your unit?’

  The soldier saluted, a cloud of exhaled breath sweeping through his scarf, ‘I have a despatch for Captain Fuchs…and have been ordered to await a reply, Sir!’

  The driver’s hand rose with a waxed military envelope, the officer taking it and inspecting the exterior before opening it, pulling the hand written paper from within. Lifting the communique to gain light from the building behind, his eyes swept over the page before lowering it slowly, turning back to stare up and down the line of men suspiciously.

  Stepping forward slowly, Captain Fuchs nodded with acknowledgement, ‘Leutnant Hausser…it seems you are no longer my concern. This transport is to take you to your new unit…you are to report to a ‘Major Wolff’ of the Gross Deutschland Division in five hours…you will be part of his reconnaissance unit for the forthcoming offensive…’ The captain shook his head, smiling weakly, ‘It seems your motley squad are to experience further adventures, Herr Leutnant! I wish you and your men luck…dismissed!’

  The captain saluted formally, turned abruptly on his heels and strode back towards the open doors, the light from the candles flickering across his helmet sides.

  Tatu drew level with his commander, staring at the retreating officer, his voice a whisper, ‘Offensive? What offensive?’

  Leutnant Hausser shrugged, staring at the lights from the open doors as they flickered in his eyes, ‘I have no idea…but as long as we are not with that Dummkopf…then I am happy!’ He turned, slapping Tatu’s dirt smeared coat, ‘Come on…let’s have a drink with Erich and see him off…’ He nodded to the grinning driver, ‘Two hours and we go where?’

  The driver’s eyes narrowed as his body stiffened, ‘An assembly point, Herr Leutnant…I am not to say where…but is it further east!’

  Tatu grimaced as he leant into the back of the lorry, his hand rubbing across his moustache nervously, ‘Hase’ and Udet clambering over the tailgate to retrieve the body inside, ‘Always bloody east with this lot!’

  They had located the three bodies at the far side of the square, the corpses frozen solid under their greatcoats. Gently carrying the soldiers on their final journey to the makeshift graveyard, Hausser had gently snapped their oval dog tags before the group of seven had stood solemnly above each open grave, their heads bowed as Tatu and Hausser spoke a few brief words.

  With the earth too frozen to dig or shovel, each body had been covered by their army issue blankets, the soldiers averting their eyes from iced expressions of pain and lifeless staring gazes, the bodies too frozen to even close the eyelids.

  Gently lowering young Erich’s body into the last grave, Petru had knelt next to the opening in the earth, speaking in low hushed Romanian before rising and trudging back towards the hamlet alone, his shoulders shaking for the loss of another young man in the freezing snow.

  After a solemn brief ceremony over the open grave, the remaining soldiers had walked back to the Opel Blitz lorry together. Retrieving their kit, they had eaten a brief snack of rye bread and jam before bedding down in the back of the truck as it rumbled from the hamlet they had been garrisoned in, the cold air seeping through gaps in the overhanging tarpaulin as the men’s’ minds drifted in a cold fitful sleep.

  ‘Hase’ had twitched in his slumber, the dream enveloping him almost as he had closed his eyes. As the truck bounced across the iced tracks, his thoughts drifted back to a warm sun-baked coastline, the small village that bordered the two jetties as he had sat on a hilltop overlooking the deep blue water of the Black Sea. Small fishing boats bobbed on the surface, their occupants hauling their nets back over the side and inspecting their catch. Smoke rose lazily from the few fires that were prepared to cook, a number of villagers preparing vegetables and a sparse collection of salted meat for the evening’s supper.

  The air was clear and sharp, the bright afternoon sun beating down on the villagers as they busied themselves around the small jetties, preparing to welcome any catch back to shore. Some of the older residents would sit and chat, smoking their rough tobacco and discussing at length previous experiences, the catches and village celebrations of old. Many of the elderly men bore the wounds of the countries struggles, a previous war with Germany followed by defeat, a people’s revolution that swept the communist party to power, one even old enough to claim he had fought in the Boxer Rebellion.

  Dusting his shabby brown uniform, he had risen and stared one final time over the water and southern Russian hamlet, turning reluctantly to walk to the nearby small collection of buildings, laying on the crest of the slope before it declined towards the village below. The small number of buildings were of single or two storey structure, mostly worn and dilapidated and lining the single dust track that lead down to the harbour, a warm breeze enveloping him as he approached. A number of hands rose in recognition from the slope on his left, the group of Russian riflemen waving to their commander as they smoked around a tree.

  Walking onto the track, he strode between the buildings, studying their worn exterior, moss and lichen spreading across the old stone, the structures having been there for nearly one hundred years. Then he hesitated, his eyes straining as he saw the figure running in the distance, the man clearly out of breath as he staggered towards the building from the north. A sentry ran forward, grasping the individual’s arm and ushering him to a doorway…handing him a wooden mug of water as he drank greedily.

  The soldier indicated to him frantically, ‘Hase’ lunging forward towards the couple, the sentry lowering the rifle from his shoulder as the runner’s legs sagged. He stooped next to the gasping young soldier, his eyes strained as he saw the youth was completely exhausted, his chest heaving from the exertion of running all day as he stared upwards to him.

  The youth spoke frantically through gasps, his eyes moving side to side nervously, his brown tunic drenched in sweat, ‘Comrades…the Germans have broken through with tanks, crushing us! They are advancing towards Kerch! Nothing will stop them now!’ The soldier glanced back in fear towards the rise to the north, the track lowering into a ravine before rising once more onto the horizon, his breath caught, ‘The fascists are coming! We are cut off!’

  The Opel Blitz lorry bounced in a rut on the track, a number of the occupants grunting loudly in displeasure, ‘Hase’s’ eyes flickering open. He shook his head, sweat glistening on his brow as he shivered, wearily raising himself onto one of the side benches, keen not to wake the others. He pushed his helmet down tightly, eyes widening as he noticed Hausser opposite smiling warmly at him as the officer smoked, the clouds billowing around his stubbled features.

  ‘Hase’ nodded, reaching for his rifle to clean it, Hausser’s smile widening as he whispered, ‘Can’t sleep?’

  ‘Hase’ shook his head, wiping his eyes, ‘No Herr Leutnant…’ He smiled in return, ‘I was dreaming…back in the Crimea…just before we met…’

  Hausser’s eyes widened in surprise, a grin sweeping across his face, ‘Nearly a year ago now…’ His expression darkened, ‘So much has happened…the
world has changed!’

  ‘Hase’ leant forward, smiling widely at his officer as he carefully pulled the bolt back silently on his Kar 98, inspecting the breech, ‘Do you remember the first time you gave me a rifle?’

  Leutnant Hausser chuckled silently, ‘As I recall…you already had the rifle and I tried to take it off you…’ His eyes widened once more in recollection, ‘That was near here…when the Russians attacked last year…we had just joined the Sixth Army!’ He drew on his cigarette once more, his eyes glancing across the sleeping soldiers, ‘We fought off an attack together…’

  ‘Hase’ nodded, his mind drifting into grim memory, his voice a whisper, ‘Then the drive to Stalingrad…fighting in the city itself, the suburbs and then the Grain Elevator…those foolhardy attacks towards the river when we lost so many!’ He nodded respectfully as Hausser tossed him the cigarettes, ‘Then the transfer south…for a rest!’ His eyes rolled in exasperation.

  Leutnant Hausser burst out laughing, trying to stop himself to avoid waking the men, his head and chest shaking as ‘Hase’ giggled, then laughed with him, the young officer pointing at him in jest, ‘A rest…how many days was that rest again…?’ They laughed together, before slowly falling into silence wary of the slumbering men nearby, both men beginning to clean their weapons as they whispered furtively of a year of memories across the back of the moving and shaking lorry.

  Chapter Six: Panzers Marsch!

  A dull morning light slowly crept into the back of the truck, Petru shifting in his slumber and raising himself onto one elbow, a grin forming on his face as he saw Hausser and ‘Hase’ slumped asleep opposite each other, their helmeted heads bowed forward. He nodded as Udet glanced sleepily at him, extending a hand with some bread and jam towards him, the Romanian taking it eagerly, ‘Danke…’

  The young German soldier smiled, chewing ravenously, ‘I think we are nearly there…’

  Petru’s eyes widened with curiosity, his voice low, ‘Why?’ Then he heard the distant explosions, nodding knowingly, the smile falling from his face in despondency, ‘Yes…we are nearly there!’ His eyes fell to the frosted and dried blood smears across the rear of the wooden floor, his face slowly lowering into his hands.

  The lorry jolted once more, slowing as the engine whined, more loud engines sounding nearby as the soldiers gradually awoke and stirred, sleepily glancing round at each other as Udet busied himself, frantically spreading more jam across the rough thin bread for the others.

  More engines roared outside, Hausser stretching his neck and pushing the tarpaulin at the back of the truck back to squint into the light. Seeing the armoured cars and tanks parked under or near trees on either side he tensed, the crews hastily preparing their vehicles for the morning, some making chicory coffee or tea for the others.

  The officer turned back, his voice low, ‘We are passing through an assembly area…they are preparing to attack I think…’ He glanced back out into the light as tracks squealed loudly on the ice, a Hanomag Sdkfz 251 lumbering onto the track behind, white smeared paint adorning its hull, the padded uniformed front gunner waving in acknowledgment as he nodded back. More engines roared to either side, the blueish grey exhaust fumes billowing into the freezing air as tank tracks squealed, the crews warming their motors as they drank the morning hot liquids and ate an early breakfast.

  The rumble of distant gunfire appeared to be getting louder, the soldiers nervously checking their weapons as hushed whispers spread through the back of the truck. Udet handed round bread continuously, the men devouring it hungrily as Hausser indicated to him, ‘Best you eat some too…there will be none left if you keep giving it all to Tatu!’

  The Romanian grunted in retort as Udet nodded, ‘Greedy pig has been eating it before we woke up…look at all the crumbs on his greatcoat!’

  The men giggled as Udet blushed, his gloved hand brushing the rye flakes from his uniform as Tatu spoke again smiling, indicating to the young German, ‘He is too thin anyway…eat some more…we can’t have the lice going hungry!’ He burst out laughing, throwing his head back as he nudged Petru, ‘This food is pigswill compared with what we can make…’ He stared across at Hausser, ‘Herr Leutnant, get me some supplies and I will cook a feast for us all…and our saviour, this Major Wolff!’

  Longing grins swept across the faces of the seated soldiers, Hausser nodding in agreement, ‘If the food is available, I will do my best…’ He glanced out through the back tarpaulin again, his expression darkening, ‘Artillery battery preparing to fire…we must be getting near now…’

  The rumble of explosions echoed across the snowbound terrain, the lorry slowing to turn to the east, two military policemen ahead directing the driver as they recognised the unit markings on the front mudguards. The vehicle accelerated once more, the driver yawning wearily as German heavy artillery fired behind them, the roar sweeping through the back of the truck as discharged smoke billowed upwards from the six emplaced gun muzzles.

  The lorry lurched forward as it turned from the track, the wheels spinning on broken snow as the driver revved the engine, the truck jerking forward once more before slowing to a halt, a muffled shout from the front cab, ‘Alle Aus Bitte!’

  Hausser and ‘Hase’ struggled with the frozen exterior rear tail catches, the board eventually falling away with a clatter as the soldiers rose, grasping their weapons. Jumping down from the rear of the truck, their boots crunched into the snow, the lorry having stopped in a small clearing before some trees, five large tents erected in a semi-circle under the high snow laden branches.

  Several figures in white padded jackets stepped from the tent openings, Hausser’s eyes widening, his voice a sideways hiss as he slipped the MP40 to his side, the strap over his shoulder, ‘Form line…they are all senior officers!’

  The six men shuffled warily together, raising their rifles across their shoulders and stiffening to attention as the young officer joined the end of the group, several of the figures turning to move back inside the tents. Three stepped forward, Hausser recognising Major Wolff as he approached, his hand rising in salute as the more senior officer returned the gesture, a grin spreading across his face, ‘This is Leutnant Hausser and his squad…the small unit I was telling you about earlier…the ones that escaped from Stalingrad.’ He glanced round at the two captains with him, grinning as he saw their eyes widen, ‘It seems they are language specialists and should assist us considerably in the comings days. They will accompany the forward reconnaissance units of the advance into the enemy rear, providing intelligence and support when needed.’

  The major stared briefly at the PPSH machine gun across Tatu’s chest, then glanced away, turning to face Hausser, his smile welcoming, ‘I told you and your men we would meet again soon…I have done some research on your exploits, spoken to an adjutant at Von Manstein’s headquarters…’ He grinned deviously as the subordinate nodded politely, ‘In particular, a letter and combat record submitted into Sixth Army despatches in late January of this year by a Major Schenk?’ His grin widened as Leutnant Hausser’s eyes widened in shock, then saddened, ‘He speaks…spoke…very highly…and may I say, fondly of you. A respected officer decorated with the Iron Cross for actions at Cholm…that survived the Russian Stalingrad offensive and fought his way back to our lines with his men, saving others during the retreat.’ Hausser swallowed hard as the major continued, the lined squad turning sheepishly to stare at him, ‘You will now continue your war with my division, Leutnant. Your collar unit markings will remain as before in memory of the brave soldiers that fought the Russkie hordes…in short, the 76th Infantry Division continues with you men, as does their units…in memory of those whom have fallen in the iced hell of Stalingrad.’

  The major’s gloved hand rose slowly to pat Hausser’s shoulder, startling the subordinate as emotion welled in the younger officer’s eyes. Then the senior officer stepped back, glancing across the line once more, ‘I am sorry you men will have little rest, but we are to attack in about one hour…the
forward units are already advancing! Once the Luftwaffe has awoken and got airborne, I am sure we will gather speed! You will have a radio car at your disposal and escort the infantry and panzers northwards. You should try and stay with the soldiers as support…but that is all in your orders. We expect great effort from you and your men and this will contribute to our inevitable victory.’

  The older officer continued, ‘The Russians are strong and advancing in this sector to the south west, but are not expecting an offensive…we know they are at the end of their supply lines. Our tanks and troops will drive towards and into Charkow (Kharkov), eliminate the enemy in this sector then continue the advance towards Kursk.’ He glanced across the line once more, ‘Assign one of your men to the radio and another as a driver…I have no more men to give you. One of the captains here will provide you with your orders and maps of the terrain…’ He glanced down and across at their bedraggled greatcoats, ‘We will also issue you with new padded jackets and combat trousers…no soldier with the Gross Deutschland Division fights in inferior uniforms…’ The major’s eyes narrowing in curiosity as the grin widened, ‘Now…what do you say to that Herr Hausser?’

  Leutnant Hausser coughed, clearly somewhat overcome, his voice a strained whisper, ‘T-thank you…we will do our best Sir!’

  Major Wolff smiled, ‘The Gross Deutschland Division is some distance to the north west, SS Panzer units between here and there, all poised to advance eastwards…you will advance northwards with the Wehrmacht units here and join with us at Kharkov or beyond…’ He drew nearer once more, ‘I have come here from Von Manstein’s headquarters to ensure the objectives and plan are fully coordinated…this is now achieved, so will head back to our…and your new division…’