Rise of the Bloodied Phoenix

by Andrew McGregor

  Chapter Twenty: Darkness falls in the Eastern Ukraine

  Leutnant Hausser leant nearer to the radio, the static surging as engines whined past outside, the darkness falling across the snow bound terrain as Udet lit candles in the back of the Hanomag. Pushing the earphones across his head, he realised his hair was matted with sweat, the microphone raised to his mouth as a chill swept through the rear compartment.

  ‘Hase’ was pulling the tarpaulin over the exposed rear section, his jaw tensing in disappointment as he stared towards the front of the Hanomag, scorch marks and burnt oil covering the bent and warped bonnet, the carrier having been towed to the western outskirts of the hamlet.

  Having shovelled snow onto the smouldering engine after the soldiers had advanced, he believed he may have saved the vehicle, Captain Huber grinning widely as Tatu requested a repair crew from the south and shaking his head, advising they would be a relatively low priority, but that he would see what he could do. Tatu had advised their progress was a requirement of GrossDeutschland Division and Huber had retorted he also would prefer the tracked carrier and irritating company rather than the replacement Kubelwagen he was to be given to patrol and supervise the eastern flank of the advance.

  Hausser winced as the static increased, the radio operator virtually shouting in the far north as shells detonated near the command post, ‘Major Wolff is on the front line, the Russkies are attacking in force into our northern flank…’

  The commander nodded, ‘We have been delayed...our Hanomag being damaged. We are staying at a small hamlet for the night and will progress on foot or in another vehicle tomorrow at first light…we are now north of Dobropillya…’

  The radio operator was scribbling down the details, his voice straining as another shell burst nearby, shouts outside as a reserve company ran past the bunker outside, ‘The major wished to know how the advance to Slavyansk was progressing…has the attack broken through 1st Guards Army yet?’

  Leutnant Hausser shouted into the microphone, the reception becoming worse as a heavy artillery barrage erupted across the GrossDeutschland line to the north, ‘We have pierced the southern flank of 1st Guards and I believe the advance is continuing northwards, there is little sound of heavy gunfire…’ He hesitated, Udet grinning as his commander swore under his breath, ‘The Luftwaffe have been flying almost unopposed all day, bombing to the east and north to clear defensive positions…’ He shook his head in frustration as the static soared again, ‘We will proceed as soon as practicable towards Slavyansk…’

  Slowly he lowered the microphone and dropped the headphones, grasping his helmet from the bench next to him. Glimpsing Udet grin, he padded his jackets with his hands for his cigarettes, eventually locating them and raising one to his mouth slowly, his head cocked to one side suspiciously, ‘Where is Tatu…and what are you grinning at? Something is going on…’

  Udet’s eyes widened, his gloved hands rising in defence as Hausser extended the packet towards him grinning, ‘Herr Leutnant…you were resting after the explosions, we have been securing the village and assisting with the move up of supplies.’ He took one of the cigarettes gratefully, lifting a candle towards Hausser, the commander lighting his from it, ‘The houses now have two MG42 machine gun positions, a mortar pit and a pak 40 concealed gun…we should be able to hold the Russkies off if they attack.’ He lit his own cigarette, coughing slightly, his young grey eyes glinting in the candlelight as he glimpsed the irritation on his commander’s face.

  Hausser smiled fondly, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the young soldier’s reluctance to explain further, his expression becoming darker, ‘So I asked you where Tatu was…and now I wish to know…what are my Romanian men doing? Where is the Italian, Moretti?’

  Udet stiffened, realising the conversation was becoming serious, the smoke billowing between them as he coughed nervously, ‘We have cleared the houses of the dead and some infantry have moved into the positions and into the farm to the north…’ He drew breath nervously, ‘Sergeant Moretti found something amongst the buildings…and so did Tatu…’ He shrugged in defeat, suddenly realising the reason for Hausser’s concern, ‘Perhaps you should come and see Herr Leutnant…they are perfectly alright…’

  Pavel gently shook Oleg awake, his hand pressing firmly on his friend’s shoulder as he whispered, ‘Time to move, deep sleeper…’

  He grinned as the dirt caked youth shook his head, rubbing his groggy eyes as he awoke abruptly, the cold enveloping him once more as he gasped. Glancing round as if momentarily startled, Oleg shivered as Pavel leant across his body for his rifle, grimacing as the snow sparkled in front of him across the field, the flakes now frozen solid as the temperature dropped further.

  Clouds of exhaled breath billowed around them as they nervously crept from beneath the broken cart, kneeling in the snow to glance around cautiously. The surface of the snow seemed to glitter in each direction, a full moon and sparklingly bright stars reflecting off the iced surface. Both teenagers starting to shiver, their thoughts fleetingly to move back under the cart for the limited protection against the elements. Hunger pangs gripped their stomachs as their teeth began to chatter, Oleg gripping his rifle as he glanced across the snow fields around them, the land rising slightly to the north.

  Pavel stared upwards at the clear sky, his eyes straining as he recognised the different constellations, focusing his gaze on one bright star. Glancing round, he studied the terrain…the field to the east leading to a distant small hamlet, lights flickering from the windows, his eyes glimpsing silhouettes moving before the tiny flames. To the south east lay the farm where they had spent the previous night with further hamlets beyond, his eyes fixing towards the south west and a darkening landscape of woods and forests with few lights.

  Grasping Oleg’s elbow, he indicated towards the darker terrain, ‘We will head that way…try and get some food on the way and hopefully get picked up by the local partisans…’ He shook his head, resting a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder, his expression solemn, ‘Our luck with change soon young comrade…it has to…’

  Leutnant Hausser trudged towards the buildings, his MP40 slung over his shoulder, Udet and ‘Hase’ walking behind through the snow. Dropping into the rear trench, Hausser nodded to the sentry, the man wrapped warmly in padded jacket and trousers, his hand rising to indicate further between the buildings, ‘The captain is in the eastern trench, Herr Leutnant!’

  The commander raised his hand in thanks, progressing further between the destroyed buildings, the aroma of scorched wood filling his nostrils as he pulled his collar up, the night temperature beginning to fall. Several soldiers were sitting around a small central square, the shattered wood stacked against one of the walls, heavy thick tarpaulin placed over the buildings, with netting above the open sections.

  Glancing to the north, his eyes widened, seeing a crew sat drinking around their 20mm flak 38 (Flakvierling) cannon, the single barrel extending skywards with additional ammunition canisters stacked to the rear. A heavy machine sat beneath netting further to the right, the MG42 mounted on a tripod and set behind reinforced sandbags.

  The chatter of voices spread around him, his eyes moving across the shadowed figures for the silhouettes of the Romanians, Udet and ‘Hase’ drawing level with him, a brief concealed smile passing between them.

  The Marder II engine burbled to the south, the crew working on the cylinders and timing as their commander collected warm drinks for his men, their work assisted by candlelight and oil lanterns after repairing the track to the south. The pak crew had limbered their field gun into a half-destroyed property, the muzzle extending and stretching out over the front eastern trench, seven rings drawn round the barrel by the proud gunners (an indication of confirmed kills amongst field piece crew and tankmen). Additional shells were stacked a comfortable distance from the field piece, the artillery commander speculating distances to objects in the east on a crudely drawn map under candlelight.

  Captain Huber emer
ged from the front trench, stepping up the slope as he stared at the map in his hands, Hausser stepping forward to join him, the captain glancing up and smiling, ‘Ah…Leutnant…feeling better? I hope you are not concussed, the medic said you would recover after some rest…’

  Hausser nodded, saluting, ‘Yes, Herr Hauptmann…my apologies…’

  His voice drifted off as the captain waved his hand, the officer still smiling, ‘As you can see, we have been quite busy since this afternoon…’ He glanced at the map more closely, ‘I have set up three further defensive positions to the north on our eastern flank in farms and a small village…we can go and inspect them at first light…’

  Leutnant Hausser nodded, ‘We will need transport…I also have to progress towards the railway at Slavyansk, south of Isyum…’

  Huber nodded thoughtfully, ‘Yes…that may be difficult now…they have only given me a Kubelwagen, and then not until tomorrow…’ He slapped the subordinate officer’s shoulder, ‘Let’s get you something to eat shall we? We can chat further then…’

  Hausser nodded, ‘Yes…thank you. I also need to find the rest of my men…they seem to have gone suspiciously missing…’

  Huber nodded knowingly, ‘All in good time…I gave them something rather special to do…’ He indicated to one of the soldiers stood by the side of the square, the infantryman grasping the door next to him and sliding it across, Hausser’s eyes widening in surprise as the light cascaded from the opening.

  Udet and ‘Hase’ giggled, the door pulled completely back as the light from candles and a burning stove glowed outwards, several soldiers licking their lips eagerly in anticipation. Three figures stood before the stove, makeshift tables and chairs formed from ammunition boxes and shattered planks sitting before the flickering flames of the fire.

  Tatu spun round, his eyes bright and uniform covered by an apron formed from sacking, his voice rising in elation, ‘Mein Damen und Herren…welcome to our small bistro…’ He grinned widely, Petru and Moretti turning slowly and indicating to the ramshackle tables before them, ‘Please be seated and our two waiters will bring you over the menus…’ The Romanian quartermaster drew breath, grinning widely and winking at Hausser, ‘May I recommend our stew…made from tinned meat ration, roasted vegetables a la shelling and some additions of my choosing…though no spice!’ He glared in jest at Petru, ‘…and to wash this down…a small supplement of vodka…the taste a little harsh may I add, I personally would have chosen a different year…’

  The Romanian pointed cheekily to the seats, Huber indicating for Hausser to step forward and whispering, ‘My apologies Leutnant…they swore me to secrecy…’

  Leutnant Hausser was smiling widely, his eyes struggling to believe what he saw, Petru rushing forward and grasping his elbow, a torn sack draped over lower arm, ‘This way Sir…would you like a drink to start…an aperitif perhaps?’

  The commander’s eyes widened further as a sharp excited bark filled the air, the small terrier sat in the corner of the room on top of a padded open crate, its tail wagging furiously as Tatu waved a finger at him, ‘Now, now little ‘Crina’…don’t be rude to our guests!’ Tatu slipped forward, extending a morsel of cooked meat to the terrier, the dog gulping it back and yelping in fun.

  Petru helped Hausser onto his makeshift seat, swiftly depositing a candle on the rough table surface, his voice a nervous whisper, ‘He found the little dog in the ruins this morning, Herr Leutnant…they have become very attached to each other…I think we will have to keep him…’

  The commander giggled, indicating to Tatu, ‘The dog or the fool? I prefer to keep the dog!’

  Tatu spun round, smiling widely, his voice directed towards the terrier, ‘See my little young ‘Crina’, I knew he would like you…’

  The commander’s eyes widened further, his grin remaining as Petru stood upright, pretending to have a notebook, ‘Now Sir…shall I take your order? Are your friends joining you…?’ His eyes narrowed in jest, ‘…Or perhaps you are awaiting the company of a young lady?’

  Leutnant Hausser spun round, his eyes sparkling with emotion as he gestured for the grinning Udet and ‘Hase’ to come forward, ‘Just these two dirt caked rogues…’ His eyes narrowing slightly in embarrassment, ‘Herr Hauptmann…will you join us?’

  Huber shook his head, smiling warmly, ‘Not just now, Leutnant…I will inspect the defences and join you for a drink later…’ He waved his hand, turning away as Udet and ‘Hase’ lowered themselves on either side of their commander.

  Stepping through the trees slowly, Pavel was shivering intensely, his shoulders shaking as they crept deeper into the forest. Their boots crunched on the iced snow, Oleg stepping carefully behind his friend, their rifles raised. The darkness of the forest seemed to close in around them, their frightened eyes glancing all round as they progressed deeper into the trees.

  Pulling their collars up, the cold bit mercilessly at their faces, their eyes bloodshot and weary as they stepped deeper in to the forest, aware they were now safe from German patrols for the night. Pavel turned to his shivering countryman, his voice shaking, ‘W-we keep going until we find somewhere that might keep us warm…keep your eyes open for any wildlife…we need to find something to eat!’

  Oleg’s shaking voice was weak, his strength waning as he leant more on Pavel’s shoulder, frost forming across his eyebrows, ‘W-will we freeze to death in here?’

  Pavel shook his head, his thoughts beginning to slow in the intense cold, a deep dread filling his frame as he forced his boots down a slope, slipping his rifle over his shoulder to enable him to grasp frozen branches and support his comrade. As their exhaled breath swirled, they stumbled down the decline, boots slipping and sliding across the iced surface as Pavel attempted to control their descent.

  The air seemed to get even colder, thin tentacles of freezing mist swirling before them and clinging to the tree trunks and branches on either side. Gasping at the steep drop in temperature, they struggled on, half supporting each other as their eyes strained, intense jabs of pain twitching in their lungs against the clawing frost that spread through their frames.

  Reaching a narrow path through the trees, Oleg half fell to his knees, Pavel beginning to realise they had become too exposed, that their bodies could no longer resist the extreme temperature without the energy of food that they had been deprived of. Oleg grasped his chest and tried to rise, the youth’s breathing coming in short wheezed gasps as he dropped back onto his knees with exhaustion.

  Pavel grasped his friend firmly, pulling him upwards and lifting his arm over his shoulder for support, his cold feet shuffling to follow the path through the trees, eyes blinking to scrutinise the narrow track for footsteps or signs of wildlife. They staggered on for a short distance, the path winding through the tree trunks as the mist seemed to thicken, Oleg’s boots half trailing on the snow, his rifle slipping from his grasp and falling unnoticed.

  Reaching a fork in the path, Pavel lowered his friend next to a wide tree, the path moving either side of the large trunk. Oleg’s head slumped forward, his whisper faint as if distant, ‘I-I just need to sleep…’

  Pavel glared down, then glanced to either side frantically, searching for something to cover his friend with, his tone rising in anxiety and almost panic, ‘Don’t sleep Oleg…please! Please don’t!’ He struggled to the side, tearing as the frozen bushes and undergrowth for leaves and small branches, his frustration rising as he bit at his lips, knowing there was not nearly enough.

  Slipping down next to Oleg, he cradled the young Russian desperately in his arms, his chest heaving in ultimate defeat as he sobbed, the youth’s helmeted head lolling across his chest, ‘I am sorry my friend…I have failed you!’ The nausea rose within him as he began sweating, ‘I should not have walked so far into the trees…we should have stayed at the top of the slope…’ He glanced upwards into the snow bound branches above, a whimper of frustration slipping from his clenched teeth.

  The tentacles of freezing fog cu
rled around the nearby trees, the forest silent but for the despondent sobbing of a young man. At the top of the iced slope behind the exhausted figures, two pairs of eyes stared down longingly…the wolves awaiting their prey to weaken further, their eyes narrowing in hunger.

  Leutnant Hausser sat listening to Udet regale stories of his youth in Potsdam, advising of how he watched the parades leading to the Olympic Stadium in 1936, the colourful flags and cheering crowds that he had watched with awe. The young soldier smiled as he recounted glimpsing the German team walking in uniformed lines towards the stadium, the athletes waving at the cheering crowds on either side.

  The commander grinned bleary eyed at the young soldier’s obviously rising alcohol level, the coarse vodka reacting with the chilled air around them as several soldiers sat listening intently, their faces flushed from the consumption.

  Tatu was preparing a vast amount of food, sweat dripping from his features as he occasionally flicked food to his new four legged friend. Large supply cases were filled as soldiers arrived to transport the food to other nearby positions, the Romanians and Italian clearly relishing their role.

  Huber slowly lowered a supply crate next him, nodding as he was handed a metal beaker of vodka, his voice lowered as Udet continued, ‘A repair crew has just arrived and they are working on our Hanomag…’

  Hausser’s eyes widened in surprise, ‘That was quick…’

  He sipped from his drink again, seeing Huber grin out of the corner of his eye, the captain speaking in a low tone so as not to disturb Udet, ‘I requested it be done as a matter of priority…’ The captain lit a cigarette grinning, ‘…also, apparently the Kubelwagen broke down…’

  Oleg stirred slightly, the distant sound seeming to induce a half-conscious response, a twinge of fear sweeping through his dulled frozen mind, his physical being unable to respond. Warm breath touched his cheek…then the jaws moved away, a low chest growl as the wolf lowered on its haunches, his nose sniffing the forest as if sensing danger. Then the beast lunged away, its partner following as insulated paws slapped against frozen snow, the two animals running off back up the slope and into the safety of the forest and their lair.