by Alan David
‘I’ll get there,’ Kurt said, filled with a mixture of optimism and hopelessness. It would be good to be back with his comrades, but the war was still raging and men were being killed continually. He could not see any ray of hope for himself.
‘Have you heard from your brother Max while you’ve been here?’ Zimmermann queried.
‘No, sir. But his Sergeant-Major has been in touch. I don’t know what’s happened to them since Cassino fell, but they were in the line on the flank there.’
‘Most of the army withdrew in good order,’ Zimmermann consoled. ‘There was another line constructed behind the Gustav, and they pulled back to it according to plan.’
‘But the beach-head is likely to be extended by the Allies now. That’s why they landed there in the first place, to bypass Cassino. I can see the whole front collapsing. Rome will fall, and then we’ll be pushed right out of Italy.’
‘For what it’s worth, I can tell you that we’re being pulled out of Italy anyway.’ Zimmermann glanced around to ensure he was not being overheard. ‘I don’t know what the plans are, but we won’t figure in any more battles here.’
‘Are we going back to Russia?’ There was an edge of fear to Kurt’s tone, and his heart seemed to miss a beat as he recalled the nightmarish eastern front.
‘I don’t know. We’ll have to go where we are sent, no matter where it is. I don’t like the thought of facing the Russians again. But in our present condition we are not fit to meet anyone. We have lost most of our Panzers. We are going to have to be re-equipped before they can send us back into action. That will take some time.’
Kurt shook his head wordlessly, his mind filled with conflicting emotions. It was a hellish existence. He sometimes felt that it would be better to get killed. But when he thought of his wife and children he knew that he had to endure everything for their sake. The war could not last for ever, and if they survived it they might be able to pick up the pieces of their lives afterwards. If the Allies won, and it seemed likely that they would, then life could not be as bad under their occupation as this terror that dogged them daily.
‘I have to go now, Kurt,’ Zimmermann said, interrupting Kurt’s thoughts. ‘I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow. We are only forty miles from Rome. Your orders will tell you where to report, and you should be able to get transport quite easily. There’s a lot of traffic moving back and forth, and we are close to the main road.’
‘Thank you, sir!’ Kurt walked to the door with his superior. ‘I’ll be glad to get back with you. I don’t like hospitals at any time.’
Zimmermann smiled and departed, and Kurt returned to his bed to contemplate the situation. Next morning, after a visit by the medical officer, he was discharged to perform light duties at his unit, with orders to see his own M.O. upon arrival. He packed his kit thankfully and, armed with his movement orders, set out to find the Regiment.
The main road from Rome was busy, as Zimmermann had related, and Kurt recalled the ambush in which he had been wounded. Partisans had lain in wait near the road, and he tightened his lips as he relived the terrifying moments when machine-gun bullets had smashed through the moving vehicle. He watched the surrounding area carefully, and the driver was alert for signs of air attack. The sides of the road were littered with wrecked vehicles, and some of them were still smoking. The day was clear and sunny, and Kurt considered the strength and power of the Allies. His only logical conclusion was that Germany had lost the war, and yet everyone was carrying on as if that could not be possible. It was an insane attitude, and he felt that he wanted to cry out that they were fools to continue fighting against such overwhelming odds.
The truck dropped him off at a crossroads, and he saw, among the dozens of Divisional signs, that of his own unit. He waited on the side road with his kit at his feet, and a few moments later one of his unit supply vehicles pulled in beside him. He recognized the driver Corporal Wecker, who grinned at him.
‘Glad to see you on your feet again, Sergeant-Major,’ Wecker said cheerfully. ‘You’re coming back to us just in time for the big move.’
‘What big move?’
‘We’re pulling right out of Italy.’
‘It’s only a rumour.’ Kurt shook his head. They lived on rumours, although it was surprising the number of times even the wildest rumour had a grain of truth in it.
‘It was a rumour a few days ago, but I know all the signs. We’re the ones who have to drive the trucks, remember. Motor Transport is getting ready for a big move, and I’ve heard that we’re going to the south of France.’
‘South of France!’ Kurt echoed. ‘Is that where they’re expecting the Second Front?’
‘Don’t think so.’ Wecker kept leaning out of his side window and studying the sky. ‘There’s no trouble in the south of France. It’ll be a rest camp for us. We’re going to get some of the new tanks, too. Panthers, they’re called, and have a four-man crew. They’ll be much better than the Mark IVs we’ve been using.’
Kurt sat silent until they reached their unit, and felt a sense of foreboding grip him as they paused under a tree near Regimental HQ. He left his kit near the truck and reported to RSM Brauche, who greeted him cordially.
‘Major Zimmermann told me you wanted to come back to us, and I’ve decided that officially you’ll be able to help Sergeant Staier. He’s the Regimental Clerk. But unofficially you get as much rest as you can. We’re going to be on the move shortly. Just waiting for orders to come through. Go along to your Company and stay there. If I want you I’ll send for you.’
‘Thank you, sir.’ Kurt nodded. ‘I’ll report to Major Zimmermann at once. I’m glad to be back. I didn’t want to get left behind in Rome.’
‘Take care of yourself, Kurt. You’re not completely healed yet. Don’t try to do too much at first.’
Kurt departed, and an Orderly Room runner carried his kit and showed him where his Company was. He reported to Company HQ, and Leutnant Reinhalt, his Troop Commander, was with Major Zimmermann when he went into the small cottage that housed the headquarters.
‘Glad to see you back, Sergeant-Major!’ Reinhalt said, smiling. ‘I hope you’ve recovered now. It was bad luck getting hit like that, on a rest from the line.’
‘I’m all right now, sir,’ Kurt responded. ‘I need to take it easy for a while, but by the time we’re ready to go back into action I should be fit. How are the men of my old crew?’
Weilen returned yesterday with Major Zimmermann, as you know. Hohner and Schultze are all right. They have been acting as relief-men, but now we’re out of action everyone is having a well-earned rest.’
‘You’ll be able to see them as soon as you’ve settled into your quarters, Kurt,’ Zimmermann said. ‘The runner will take you across to your billet. We’re very comfortable here, and the enemy airforce aren’t bothering us too much. They think this village is occupied by civilians, and we’re keeping all military vehicles out of the area so as not to destroy that illusion. You can forget about parades and duty. Just rest up and recover from your wound.’
‘Thank you, sir.’ Kurt saluted and left to find the Company runner. Two men helped him with his kit and he was shown across to the Sergeants’ Mess, a small cottage on the outskirts of the village. He dumped his kit in a room that had a spare bed and went in search of his old crew.
Weilen was standing in the doorway of a cottage and spotted Kurt. He turned and called to someone inside, and as Kurt reached the doorway two other men appeared. They were Schultze, Kurt’s driver, and Hohner, the loader. Both men were grinning broadly, and Kurt shook hands with them.
‘Glad to see you, sir!’ Schultze said. ‘The last time I saw you it was rather nasty. We were lucky to get out of that truck alive. I dived out the back with Hohner. He was bleeding from a shoulder wound, and you were lying on the road. You’d managed to jump out of the cab. But I thought you were a goner! I dragged you under cover and we lay in a ditch until help arrived and chased off the partisans.’
&nbs
p; ‘Thanks, Schultze,’ Kurt said slowly. ‘They told me that you had pulled me to safety. I’ll never be able to thank you enough. I can remember that afternoon vividly. I thought it was an air attack at first.’
‘Think nothing of it.’ Schultze grinned. He was an irrepresible type from Berlin, and more like a brother than a subordinate. A tank crew lived within the close confines of their vehicle for most of their lives, and shared the hellish dangers of their mode of fighting. ‘You’ve saved all our lives more times than I care to remember. I’m glad you’re back, although you don’t look fully fit yet. Weilen told us you wanted to get back so you could move out with us.’
‘That’s right. I wouldn’t want to fight with any other tank crew. I’ve got used to you and I want to stay with you. We are a good team, and we all know it. But what about you, Hohner? You were also wounded in that partisan attack.’
‘Nothing serious,’ the big man from Hanover said gloomily. ‘Just a flesh wound. Most of the men in the back of the truck were killed, and Schultze, the lucky bastard, was the only one to get out without a scratch. Mine wasn’t bad enough to keep me out of the fighting. I would have changed places with you any time, and pulled a few strings to stay away as long as possible.’
Kurt smiled, already feeling easier in his mind. These men he knew well and could trust with his life. They had been together for years, and he did not want any changes. Now that he was back in their company he felt stronger, less prey to the nameless fears that clung to the inner recesses of his mind. They had been through hell together more times than he cared to remember, and while he was with them he had the feeling that nothing really bad could happen. Vogel’s death had been a shock, but Vogel would have been alive today if he had not tried to run after they bailed out of the tank: if they had kept together they would have been all right. Nothing bad had happened to them in the tank.
It was the only thought he had to cling to, and he did so with every instinct in his war-weary mind. But he had learned not to look forward to the future. Their world had no future and no past, only an interminable present, and at the moment the present was quiet and peaceful. They had to enjoy that while they could. Time had a habit of passing, and soon there would be fresh battles to face, but until the moment of reality arrived they were able to shut their minds to the horror and enjoy what rest they could get.
Schultze broke into Kurt’s musing. ‘Come on, Sergeant-Major, and have a drink with us. I’ve got some wine. Nobody’s doing much for a few days. We’ve had a tough time of it lately and the Major thinks we all deserve a rest. But we’ll be moving out soon, and we’ve got to make hay while the sun shines, you know.’
Kurt nodded and smiled. He felt his gloom lift a little. Coming back to his comrades was like re-joining a family circle, and he entered the cottage with them, leaving his cares and worries outside. Time enough later to think of what might happen. Until then it was better to forget everything, and he was experienced enough to be aware of that grim fact.
CHAPTER THREE
SS Division Vaterland camped for the night in a ruined village to the north of Rome. Colonel Dantine put his Companies into position and Max Eckhardt summoned his four platoon commanders. They stood near the Company HQ looking around their area. There was some high ground to the west and Eckhardt pointed to it.
‘I don’t like that,’ he commented. ‘If there is any activity at all it’s likely the partisans will use that for an attack upon us. I want your platoon up there, Reinfeld. Get them down in all-round defence, and no shooting unless you’re certain of your targets. Maintain contact by radio. And remember the orders. Partisans are to be attacked and killed at every opportunity. The password for tonight will be “Brandenburg”. That’s all. I’ll be around to check before dark, and I’ll expect to find your sentries alert and ready for trouble.’
‘Yes, sir!’ Reinfeld saluted and departed immediately, and Eckhardt watched his platoon moving out. There were only twenty of them, including twelve replacements that had come up to join them only days before Cassino had fallen. The other platoons were as badly decimated, and the entire Company numbered less than seventy fighting men. The whole battalion — one of three in the Regiment — consisted of some two hundred men, and Eckhardt was not surprised that they were being pulled out to reform. But where were they going to get their replacements from? He had noted that replacements seemed to be getting younger with each intake, and they were not fully trained. Some were mere youths, and Eckhardt felt sorry for them. They had none of the toughness displayed by the older men, and he could only hope that they would endure the rigours of war.
He called for Sergeant-Major Leun, who arrived immediately, and they walked around the Company area. The terrain consisted of grey rocks and broken ground, and Eckhardt was concerned about partisan attacks.
‘Leun, I want you to have a standing patrol in this area over here ready to move out at a moment’s notice to deal with any infiltration. I’m certain that our arrival has been noted, and we could receive some attention during darkness. You’re the best man to handle such a task. I’m warning all platoons to remain in defence no matter what happens, and you’ll be the only group on the move if there is trouble. Check the area and note the features. That small pool over there might be where the partisans in this area get their drinking water from. If that is so then we’d be wise to set up an ambush. So have your group down in position around it.’
‘I can handle that, sir,’ Leun said instantly. ‘Do you want any prisoners taken?’
‘No. All partisans are to be killed on sight. I’ll make a round of the platoons now and select the men I want in your group. Don’t let them relax at all during the night. Battalion reports that there is a great deal of partisan activity every night in this area, and I’m going to ensure that we don’t fall victim to it.’
‘We’ll be ready for them,’ Leun promised.
Eckhardt nodded and indicated a spot by the pool. ‘That looks like a good place for you to position your group. I’ll tell the men I select to move in here after dark. As I’ve already said, this place could be under observation right now.’
They parted, and Eckhardt made a round of his platoons, checking to see if they had made the best use of their own particular areas. He selected veterans to join Leun’s group by the pool, sending Sergeant Steine and Corporal Sieber’s machine-gun group from Reinfeld’s platoon. A dozen men moved out after darkness had fallen, and Leun put them down in all-round defence by the pool. Eckhardt, satisfied that his Company area was secure, went on to Battalion to report and receive orders for the next day.
Colonel Dantine was relaxing in a cottage that was relatively undamaged. Several other Company Commanders and officers were present and Dantine greeted Eckhardt cordially.
‘Is your Company alert for partisans, Captain?’ Dantine demanded.
Eckhardt explained what he had done to secure his area, and Dantine nodded.
‘Excellent. I can tell you gentlemen that we are going back to Germany to regroup. But before we leave Italy we are to make an all-out attack upon the partisans in this area. They are becoming a real menace and something has got to be done about them. In view of our great experience in handling such matters we have been selected to deal with them. Starting at daylight, I want patrols at platoon strength moving out on organised search lines. They are to root out these pests from their holes and exterminate them. We will have a week of these operations before we can expect to be sent back to Germany, where replacements are being trained to bring us up to strength. By the time we reach our depot in Gutersbrucke they will be ready to join us.’
‘And what then, Herr Colonel?’ Eckhardt asked. ‘Do we get the opportunity of taking leave or are we going east again?’
‘I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to the last part of your question, Eckhardt, but I think I can safely promise you that some of the officers will be able to snatch a few days leave. You have someone special you wish to visit?’
‘Y
es, sir. My Aunt Gretel.’ Eckhardt spoke automatically but he was thinking of Sonia Dressler, the girl he had met on his last leave a few months earlier.
‘Of course.’ Dantine nodded. ‘She lives near Hamburg, doesn’t she?’
‘That’s right, sir.’
‘Well we’ll see what the situation is when we get back to the depot. Now let us look at this map of the area. Partisans are reported to be hiding around here, and attempts so far to root them out have failed. But no one can operate like SS Division Vaterland, even though we are under strength. I have told the Brigadeführer that this battalion can handle the task, and we are going to prove that my opinion is right. This what I want the Companies to do. How you delegate the work to your platoons will be up to you. But I want results. All partisans will be killed on sight and their bodies brought back here as evidence of the success of our operation. Infantrymen of the Wehrmacht have tried to settle this business and failed. Vaterland will succeed. Do I make myself clear?’
They produced their maps and marked the areas allotted to them, and Eckhardt found himself with a large, almost inaccessible sector to search. Knowing the type of country, he realized that they would be lucky to find any partisans. But he intended to look for them, and when Dantine dismissed them he made his way back to his HQ. Full darkness had set in and the night was silent and ominously still.
Eckhardt’s command post was in the cellar of a ruined farmhouse, and the HQ staff had made it as comfortable as possible, accustomed as they were to foraging and improvising. A couple of lamps were burning, casting a yellowish glare around the cellar, and they had taken great pains to ensure that no light issued from the place. But Eckhardt had no intention of retiring for the night. His platoons were resting, apart from sentries and Leun’s assault group, and he was going to ensure that those on duty were alert and vigilant. He had heard many stories of the Italian partisans. They were a menace to troops coming forward to the front miles to the south, and had wreaked havoc with the supply lines. But with Vaterland in the area they would discover, to their cost, that the German Army could fight back despite the reverses they were suffering at the front.
