Heroes in Normandy

by Alan David

‘I’m not interested in decorations, sir,’ Leun countered, and saw a bleak expression show in Eckhardt’s pale eyes. He knew just how far he could go with his superior, but times were changing drastically and he would have to be careful.

  ‘What about the recruits?’ Eckhardt changed the subject, knowing that it was useless reprimanding Leun. Any other soldier evincing Leun’s attitude would have faced a firing squad years ago, but Eckhardt was aware that he needed Leun, and had forced himself to accept the fact that his subordinate was not a rabid Nazi. Leun did his duty better than two other men could have handled it, and Eckhardt turned a blind eye to Leun’s manner.

  ‘I’m not happy with them, sir,’ Leun said quietly. ‘They must be scraping the bottom of the barrel now. Some of these boys should still be at school.’

  ‘Haven’t you heard about the Hitler Youth Division fighting on this front?’ Eckhardt demanded angrily. ‘They’ve been putting some of the regular Wehrmacht units to shame. We’ll show our young replacements how to conduct themselves. We have a high tradition in this unit and it must be instilled in all ranks.’

  Leun smiled wearily. ‘Yes, sir,’ he replied. ‘I’m sending some of the new men out on patrol tonight with Sergeant Steine and a couple of the veterans. Nothing specific. Just to get them used to no-man’s-land.’

  ‘That’s a good idea.’ Eckhardt nodded. ‘But you are not to go out yourself, Leun.’

  ‘I don’t intend to,’ Leun chuckled. ‘I’m beginning to feel my age. I don’t think I could keep up with the younger men.’

  ‘If I know you then you’ll be out there at the first opportunity,’ Eckhardt said, and for a moment his expression softened. ‘You know, Fritz, I wish we had the time to talk like we used to.’

  ‘So do I, Captain. I think you’ve put too much of yourself into your duty.’

  ‘What makes you think that?’ Eckhardt ducked as a shell screeched over and exploded fifty yards away. It seemed to be a ranging shot for another followed swiftly. Then there was a pause before several more shells arrived in quick succession, just missing Company HQ.

  ‘Looks like they’re ranging in on your place,’ Leun commented. ‘But if you’ve got the time to listen to me for a few minutes I’ll set you straight.’

  ‘Now you sound like an old soldier talking to a recruit,’ Eckhardt remarked, smiling. But he sobered. ‘Something has happened to me over the years,’ he mused. ‘We’ve seen too much war, Fritz. It used to be a game but now it’s hell, and there’s no end to it.’

  ‘I’m getting a strong impression that the end is in sight,’ Leun retorted, looking at his superior in the eyes.

  ‘I know what you mean.’ Eckhardt glanced around. There was no one in the immediate area. The ammunition party were lying some distance away, having dropped flat upon Leun’s word of command. ‘We don’t have to fool ourselves in front of each other, do we? We both know what’s happening. I wish to God I knew how it would all end.’

  ‘Are we talking off the record, sir?’ Leun ducked as a shell exploded close by and showered them with debris.

  ‘We shouldn’t be talking at all, but if we don’t talk sometimes then we’d be less than human. I had a rotten leave when I went to the farm from Gutersbrucke.’

  ‘Really? What went wrong? Aunt Gretel is one of the finest women I know. She made you welcome, didn’t she? Why, I remember, when you were just a lad, how she doted on you. Wanted you to stay at the farm instead of living in Berlin with your father.’

  ‘I wanted that more than anything in the world, but I never got the chance. Later, when Father died, I was too old to go back. I think I would have been a totally different person if Aunt Gretel had been given the opportunity to rear me.’

  Leun looked intently into Eckhardt’s face and saw something of the conflict going on beneath the surface. His harshly set face softened momentarily and he nodded.

  ‘I think I know what’s wrong with you, sir,’ he said gently. ‘Under all that idealism you picked up, and the rules we’ve been living by for years, you’ve got a conscience.’

  ‘Don’t talk like that. Conscience doesn’t come into it. There is no such thing as personal conscience when a man is bound to duty by his sacred oath. Don’t forget that you took an oath as I did, and you are an honourable man, Leun. I’ve respected you for more years than I care to remember.’

  ‘I only joined the SS because you did,’ Leun objected. ‘I wanted to be near you, Max. I promised your father that I would look out for you. But I wonder what he’d have to say now if he could rise from his grave and see what we have been doing in the name of Nationalism!’

  ‘All we’ve ever done is our duty,’ Eckhardt retorted firmly. ‘What are you getting at, Leun? Sometimes you’ve been talking to me in a most peculiar way. I know you. There’s something on your mind and now is the time to make a clean breast of it. We don’t often get the opportunity to talk. Is there anything you want to say to me?’

  ‘Nothing that you would want to hear, sir!’ Leun smiled and shook his head. ‘If I told you what I’m thinking you’d stand me up against the nearest wall and shoot me.’

  ‘I’ve grown accustomed to your defeatism and disloyalty.’ Eckhardt smiled grimly. ‘You won’t make me angry with those tactics. But if there is something bothering you then tell me about it.’ He glanced around. ‘I’ve got to inspect the platoons in a moment so make it quick.’

  ‘When this war is over the SS are going to have a lot to answer for,’ Leun said slowly.

  ‘Shut up!’ Eckhardt half rose, but Leun pulled him down as a mortar bomb burst twenty yards away, filling the area with whirring shards of shrapnel. SI got that kind of talk from Aunt Gretel when I was at the farm. What the hell is wrong with people these days? They cheered us as heroes when we were winning and didn’t give a damn for the way we secured our victories then.’

  ‘Most of them are now aware that the Nazi machine is an instrument of terror which tortures men, women and children with impartial brutality. The Nazis have no regard for human life, even German life. This war has been lost for a long time and yet it is permitted to go on and on, killing thousands who could survive.’

  Eckhardt stared at Leun with growing horror in his mind, then reached out and slapped his subordinate’s face with a heavy right hand.

  ‘You go too far!’ he rasped. ‘What the hell do you want me to do? Are you begging to be executed? Do you think I would shrink from doing my duty even in your case?’

  ‘Think of the actions we have carried out in the past,’ Leun retorted. ‘Don’t you like to look the truth in the face, Captain?’ There was a red patch showing on his cheek where Eckhardt’s hand had struck him. ‘Just before we left Italy we were ordered to fight Partisans. We didn’t just kill men. There were innocent women and children in those mountains. I heard Sergeant Steine boasting to some of the recruits yesterday about how he raped one of the women before shooting her. If that is duty then I’m in the wrong army.’

  Eckhardt forced himself to his feet. His eyes glared as he gazed at Leun. ‘This is the last time we shall talk off the record,’ he snapped. ‘And if you even breathe treason again I’ll have you shot. I don’t give a damn what you were to me in the past. In future you’ll remember that I’m your superior, and you’ll treat me as if we were strangers.’

  ‘We’ve been strangers for a long time now,’ Leun retorted sadly. ‘I remember when you were a boy, Ɉunge! Those were the days.’

  Eckhardt turned away, angry with himself for lowering his guard. He vowed that he would not talk to Leun again unless their conversation touched upon duty, and returned to his Headquarters, sliding into the dugout as a series of mortar bombs burst outside. Dust and smoke drifted across the position, and the blasting roar of the bombs hammered at his eardrums. The radio operator looked up at him, his face haggard. Everywhere Eckhardt looked these days he saw defeat in eyes and expressions although the men continued to do their duty, and he shivered as he wondered if the end was coming as Leun
had predicted.

  ‘Colonel Dantine has been asking for you, sir,’ the operator reported. ‘He says it is urgent. Would you go over to his HQ at once?’

  ‘Thank you, Kalbach, I’ll go at once. Tell Leutnant Elsing to take over here when he puts in an appearance.’ Eckhardt left the dugout and called for his escort. Two SS men sprang out of a nearby trench. They were armed with machine-pistols and stayed close to Eckhardt when he made his way to the rear. Smoke was drifting across their positions as shells hammered all around.

  When he reached Battalion HQ he entered the cellar of the smoking farmhouse that Dantine was using and found the other Company Commanders present. Dantine was pacing up and down, hands clasped behind his back and head bent forward, thinking deeply. He looked up as Eckhardt entered and snapped to attention, raising his hand in the Hitler salute.

  ‘Heil Hitler!’ Eckhardt said loudly, and Dantine stiffened and returned the compliment. It was a strict order in Battalion HQ that such procedures would be followed closely.

  ‘You’re the last one, Eckhardt.’ Dantine spoke through taut lips, and his brown eyes glinted as he gazed at the tough, hard faces before him. ‘I’ve summoned you all here to pass on some terrible news.’ He paused and glanced around again, checking expressions, and tension seeped into the smoky atmosphere.

  Eckhardt frowned, wondering what was coming. Had the German Army finally cracked? Were they going to withdraw from France completely? There had been rumours for some time that they were about to pull back behind the Seine and try to hold a completely new line.

  ‘An attempt has been made against the Führer’s life,’ Dantine rasped, and there were gasps of shock from the assembled Company Commanders. ‘It was not successful, thank God, but it was perpetrated by the Army. Disloyal, traitorous Wehrmacht officers, many of them of the highest rank, were involved. Those swine have always looked down upon the Waffen SS. They don’t think of us as soldiers, yet we are always given tasks the Wehrmacht are not keen to handle. Now they have proved their worth. Most of the plotters have been arrested, and no doubt they will be dealt with. But the Führer was injured by a bomb that was planted in his Headquarters.’

  Eckhardt caught his breath and held it for a moment before releasing it in a long, shuddering sigh. So cracks were beginning to appear in the Third Reich! It was a sign that the end was coming. The Wehrmacht knew the war was lost and were trying to get rid of the Führer in order to sue for an honourable peace. No doubt they would also try to disassociate themselves with the conduct of the war. His lips twisted with contempt as he looked up to find Dantine’s gaze upon him.

  ‘The Führer is badly shaken by his experience and has ordered a complete investigation into the affair,’ Dantine said in a clipped tone. ‘He can no longer trust the High Command, and. a new Staff is being gathered about him. Figuring prominently among the new appointments are a number of SS officers. The Führer knows he can trust us with his life. That is all I have to say. Pass on the news to your men and tell them that the Führer expects complete devotion from each and every one of them.’

  Eckhardt walked slowly back to his Company HQ, his thoughts bitter. He needed no further proof that they had lost the war. All those years of sacrifice and hardship had been for nothing. Countless numbers of good Germans had been slaughtered in vain. He drew a sharp breath, shaking his head. No matter what happened he would not besmirch his personal oath to the Führer and the Third Reich. He would go the same way as many of his good comrades in the pursuance of his duty. That was all they had left, he realized. Duty! It was something to cling to no matter what was happening. It was a life raft in a stormy sea.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  In the heavy fighting that followed the Allied offensive code-named Goodwood, Kurt’s unit was inexorably drawn into the cauldron of fire. Day and night they were kept in action, attempting to break up the masses of infantry who flowed forward like waves breaking upon a beach, shooting it out with Shermans, Cromwells and Churchills that lumbered forward tirelessly.

  Panzers went out to do battle and failed to return, their wrecks littering the battlefield, burning, smoking, derelict, with most of the crews either incinerated inside or lying outside riddled with bullets. Those crews who survived went back into a pool of dismounted crews, ready to replace wounded crew members.

  But Kurt’s crew seemed to lead a charmed life, although they were exhausted. When they pulled back out of the fighting during the second day of the offensive they left the road and camouflaged their vehicle in a field. Before they could rest they had to discard empty shell cases, take on new ammunition and fill their fuel tanks. They worked weakly, barely able to keep their eyes open, their faces black with battle-grime, their ears ringing from the accumulated noises of the long day, and they staggered and slipped as they handed up the eighty shells that constituted a full armament. The vital tasks of preparing the Panzers for action again seemed never-ending, and they were almost asleep on their feet. Finally they completed their routine and slumped down where they stood, waiting for food and coffee to be brought to them.

  Kurt lounged beside the heavy vehicle, which was covered with branches and twigs. The sounds of battle were hammering away in the distance. He closed his eyes, but his ears were filled with the massive explosions of the day and he could not rest. Darkness was beginning to settle, brought on earlier by the smoke and dust of the battlefield. Schultze crawled under the tank with his blankets and promptly fell asleep, and Kurt envied the man. Hohner joined the driver and likewise slept, but Niehaus came to Kurt’s side, squatting and sitting quietly for a few moments before he spoke.

  ‘It was hell today, Sergeant-Major,’ the younger man remarked.

  ‘It’s hell every day, Ɉunge,’ Kurt replied. ‘Anything on your mind? You handled yourself well. It hasn’t taken you long to get the hang of things.’

  ‘I’m pretty well occupied with the radio, and when I use the MG it doesn’t seem real, shooting the enemy. I see figures through a lot of smoke and fire the gun and they fall down. I don’t think I’m hitting them. It’s all like a dream.’

  ‘It’s better if you can keep it like that,’ Kurt replied with a grim smile. ‘But if you have nothing on your mind then I suggest you get some sleep. It’s going to be another hard day tomorrow.’

  ‘What about you, sir? Will you sleep?’

  ‘Later perhaps. I’ll keep watch for now. Weilen will relieve me in a couple of hours.’

  Niehaus nodded and went for his blankets. Kurt sat quietly, trying to still the hell resounding inside his head. His temples throbbed and he kept sighing. When he thought of home he felt he would not live to see it again. Every day they were suffering worse casualties. The Regiment’s strength was being eroded, and what replacements there were could not stem the tide of the advancing Allies. There were rumours that the worst was yet to come. The Allies were massing for a tremendous offensive and this was merely the prelude.

  Kurt was distracted by movement, and arose when he heard one of the leaguer guards calling a challenge. He went forward and learned that a Nebelwerfer unit was taking up position nearby. It was the last half hour before nightfall, and Kurt watched idly as the gunners struggled to unlimber their projectors. He had seen Nebelwerfers in action before, but not at close quarters. There were a number of trucks moving along the road, bringing forward ammunition.

  Three batteries of Nebelwerfers prepared for action, and Kurt watched from a distance, squatting on the ground in cover, aware that the British would retaliate as soon as they were fired upon. The Nebelwerfer mortars fired rockets, and when they went into action the night was split with hideous sound. A low-pitched howling rose quickly to a screaming crescendo and then huge gouts of flame erupted, firing the rockets and sending them like huge comets towards the Allied positions. Lines of flame escorted by trailing clouds of redlined smoke marked their trajectory as they streaked across the sky. They fell and exploded with such terrible detonations that the vibrations were felt everywhere.


  The initial discharges by the three batteries was followed by a mass bombardment, the gunners working frenziedly, loading, running to their slit trenches, firing, then hastening to reload. Kurt pressed his hands over his ears and watched through slitted eyes. The rest of his crew arose and joined him, and they waited out the endless minutes while the fury continued. Kurt could only wonder what it was like on the receiving end.

  When the bombardment ended the gunners quickly prepared to move out, and they were gone when enemy artillery began to reply. The Nebelwerfers left the troops in the area to take the retaliation. Kurt and his crew sought cover under their Panzer and lay motionless until morning.

  At Orders Group, Kurt received orders similar to those that had been issued the day before. They were to go forward and engage the enemy armour which was coming forward ahead of the Allied infantry. Panthers and Tigers were in the area causing great damage among the enemy’s tanks. They would fight until the last Panzer if necessary, but they would stem the enemy advance.

  Kurt went back to his Mark IV with a numb sensation gripping his mind. He knew he had had enough, but it would be useless explaining that to Leutnant Reinhalt or even Major Zimmermann. He wondered if he had enough courage and nerve left to get through another day, assuming that they would be lucky enough to do so. They started up and began to advance, going back along the road they had travelled late the day before, and almost immediately there were enemy air attacks coming at them. All roads were being systematically strafed.

  They reached their front line and saw where their Grenadiers were dug in, preparing to resist the new onslaughts that would be hurled at them. Shelling was heavy and they closed their hatches. A number of Shermans appeared and were immediately engaged, and Kurt, after the swift, ruthless battle, saw two Panzers and seven enemy tanks knocked out. They took shelter behind a railway embankment while awaiting further orders, and several enemy fighter-bombers flew over without spotting them.