by Griff Hosker
“Fred, take the first road on the right.”
As he did so he said, “But sir, they might have another roadblock on this road.”
“They might but there won’t be as many people.” I banged on the cab wall behind me. “Get your weapons ready. We might have to fight our way through.”
“Sir!”
I took out a German grenade from my Bergen and my Colt with the silencer. If we made a noise then the last twelve or thirteen miles would be more than a little interesting. We had little choice in our route as the road did not cross another. We followed it around through small houses and the occasional shop. We did not look out of place. We were a German truck and no one took any notice of us. I began to think that we would get out of the town with no trouble when the road veered left and there was a three man patrol. Beyond them I could see the main street. Another road looked to run parallel to it. If we could get passed the patrol then we could turn right and head out of town.
“German patrol! We will try to bluff them again.”
Even as we approached I saw the three of them cock and raise their weapons. They knew who we were!
“Freddie, hard down!” The petrol from the motorcycles appeared to have a beneficial effect on the truck for we actually accelerated. The Germans opened fire. I leaned out of the cab and fired three shots. I hit one of them. I smashed the porcelain cap on the grenade and primed it. As Freddie drove over the body of the man I had killed I dropped it.
“Take the road on the right!”
The windscreen had borne the brunt of their bullets but, luckily the Germans had been below us and they had finished up in the cab roof. I heard my men firing. I lifted up my foot to kick out the windscreen. It was worse than useless in its present condition. And then the grenade went off. If the Germans hadn’t heard the bullets then they would most certainly have heard the grenade.
I holstered my Colt and took out the MP 34. The time for subtlety was gone. If we came across anyone else then we had to hit them and hit them hard. “Anyone hurt?
“No sir. You alright?”
“Yes Lieutenant but we are not safe yet.”
If there were roadblocks on one side of the town then there would be others on the other two. Our best hope was to head into the last vestiges of the Black Forest. We would have to get as far in as we could and then use our feet to get to the river. It was then I realised that we were now on the edge of the forest. There would be more farmland than trees soon.
“Sir, Germans. They are setting up across the road.”
“Drive at them!”
With no windscreen I was able to fire directly ahead. I leaned the MP 34 on the dashboard. It helped to keep it level. The Germans were setting up an MG 42. That could do serious damage to us. Its shells were more than capable of penetrating the radiator and that would be a disaster. I aimed slightly below the gun and fired. Our rapid approach and the tendency of the MP 34 to pull up meant that some bullets bounced off the tarmac to hit them and my bullets tore into the gun and gunner. I finished the magazine and reloaded as Freddie smashed the lorry through the bodies, over the gun and into two men who felt certain we were going to stop. I took in that they were Volkssturm, they were the German reservists; old soldiers and young soldiers. They had regular training but they were not line troops. We had a chance. Behind me I heard my men firing as we raced away from the town.
We had to risk the main road again. We would make better time. “Sir, Jerry is following. There are two Kubelwagens.”
“Beaumont,” I shouted, “there are two empty petrol cans. Make them into a bomb of some kind. Slow them up. I want to get off the road as soon as I can. We want to do it out of anyone’s sight!”
I heard his voice, “Right sir.”
I heard the guns from my men behind as they fired at the two vehicles pursuing us. I saw, in the one remaining side mirror that one of the Kubelwagens had spun around. Its dim lights disappeared. Behind I saw two more sets of dim lights pursuing us.
Freddie almost turned us over as he threw the lorry onto the main road. I saw two vehicles coming the other way but they probably thought we were just a crazy driver. Then I saw that the road ahead was clear. According to the map there was a road which turned off the main road. It looked to be a narrow track which ran parallel to the main road. I wanted us to take that one. We would use the smaller back roads to get to the river. My plan to get to the dock area had gone. We now just needed to get to the river.
I heard Lieutenant Poulson shout, “Bomb ready sir.”
I knew the side road was less than half a mile ahead. It was now or never. “Throw it.” I turned to Emerson. “We need another right turn. Up ahead. It is only narrow so be careful.”
“Right sir. It will be slippery sir.”
“I know. Do your best.”
Suddenly the sky behind was lit up by Beaumont’s bomb. I heard screeching. Then there was a second fireball. Just at that moment Emerson threw us from the road. There was a house on the corner of the road and we scraped the wall which ran alongside it. I think the wall helped to keep us upright.
“Turn out your lights and slow down.”
“Sir.” We were pitched into what appeared to be total blackness. “Bloody hellfire!” Emerson slowed so much we almost stopped but I could see more clearly and, from the other side of the trees which were to our left I heard the sound of engines as the Germans headed north.
By my reckoning we were six miles from the river. The problem was that there were now Germans following us and we had to get through their front lines. We were Commandos. If anyone had a chance then it was us. It seemed to take an age to get down the narrow road. The truck appeared to be going slower and slower. There were trees on both sides. Three miles after we had lost the Germans Emerson said, “Well that’s buggered it, sir.”
“What is the problem Freddie?”
“One of those bullets must have hit the fuel tank. She has been making a funny noise for the last few hundred yards and …” the engine stopped. “That’s it sir. She’s dead.” He patted the dashboard almost affectionately.
“Right lads, everybody out. It is Shank’s pony from now on.”
I kept the German torch and map in my hand as well as the MP 34. Everything else I put in the Bergen. Once out of the cab I said, “Beaumont, well done for the bomb. Tell me when we get home how you did it. For now I want this truck booby trapping.”
“Sir.”
Lieutenant Poulson said, “What now, sir?”
“We are less than three miles from the river and, I am guessing their front line. This road twists and turns but eventually it rejoins the main road about four hundred yards from the river. We will head down here.” I looked up at the sky. Clouds had appeared. “A little snow would help. You and Hay bring up the rear. Put the new boys in the middle and I will lead with Beaumont and Fletcher.”
“Sir.”
As soon as Beaumont said, “Done sir.” I pumped my arm and led the men down the road. The truck had done well. It had saved us over sixty miles of walking. As we headed down the road I saw that it was virgin snow. Nothing had come down it. That was not surprising, Germany was short of fuel these days and the main road would be easier to navigate. I decided to pick up the pace. I began to run. The snow absorbed the sound of our boots. Normally the sound of our running feet would have carried but there was just a soft crunch underfoot. I was anxious to get to the river as soon as possible.
Our road had moved further east from the main road and the sounds from it were more muffled. When I heard the sound of a vehicle I stopped. It was on the road, behind the trees. I did not want to risk the torch and the map. As far as I could recall the road was six hundred yards away. The vehicle noise did not recede. They had stopped. Suddenly the sky behind the trees was lit as a flare was sent up. At the same time a mile and half down the road there was the sound of exploding German grenades. They had found the truck. Commandos survive because they make deductions and then decisions
based on those deductions. The Germans would put two and two together. The men on the road to our left would head for us. The ones behind would be coming down the road with vengeance for their dead in their mind. We had to use stealth. We would have to creep through the trees and hope they went all the way to the river.
I turned, “I want those with silenced guns at the front. We are going through the trees. Those at the back have grenades ready. No noise. Watch for my signals.”
“Sir!”
I slung my MP 34 and took out the Colt. I slipped a fresh magazine in. Poulson, Hay and Beaumont joined me. In a line, four abreast we headed through the woods. I knew without looking that Emerson, Davis and Fletcher were at the back. They were old hands and our three virgins were tucked safely away in the middle. It was easier to navigate the wood than I expected. The trees were widely spaced. There was evidence of copsing. This was managed woodland.
I could now hear the sounds of pursuit. The Germans knew where we were. These might only be Volkssturm but they would have enough guns to make life hard for us. They were driving us towards their regular troops waiting at the river. I had no doubt that they would have alerted them. Ahead I saw that the sky was becoming lighter. It was not dawn, for we were heading north, it was the woods ending and that meant the river.
I held up my hand. I took out a strip of parachute cord and held it up. My old hands nodded. They knew it meant lay booby traps. I made the sign to keep watch to the three new men. I took out two German grenades. Davis had done well to collect twelve. I made a booby trap between two trees. I then put four Mills bombs in my snow suit pockets. It did not take long to set the traps. Davis had good ears and he waved to signal the arrival of the Germans. I led my men towards the river. We went more slowly. It was nerve wracking for we could now hear our pursuers. They were not as disciplined as regulars and they were talking. Some were even shouting.
As I peered ahead I saw that the trees were not only thinner there were also shadows which suggested vehicles and defences. I had no idea what they were but caution was required. I held up my hand and then pointed to the three with guns. We moved forward using every bit of cover that we could. It soon became clear that we had stumbled upon a strongpoint. The river was on the other side. That had been the lighter sky we had seen.
I edged us closer. The smell of the cigarette told me that it was a sentry ahead of me and that was confirmed by the glowing butt. I heard a phut as Bill Hay shot him. As his body hit the snow I heard, to my right, “What is it Hans?”
Another phut from Lieutenant Poulson silenced him. I scanned ahead. I could not see any more sentries. We began to move forward. I could see a bunker. There were sandbags and corrugated metal for a roof. I could hear voices within. It was a gun emplacement. I pointed to Hay and Beaumont to watch the entrance and then I headed one way while Poulson went the other. There was barbed wire in front of the post and I saw, twenty yards upriver a second. But I did see the river. There was hope ahead.
Just then there was an explosion in the woods behind us and then a second. The booby traps had been triggered. Two figures rose before me. I just reacted and fired four shots. The two Germans fell. One of them dropped back into the river making a splash. I heard German voices behind me but then they were silenced. I took a grenade and hurled it high into the air towards the second machine gun. I ducked and, as the grenade exploded I heard cries.
Fletcher led the rest of my men through the woods to the emplacement and the river. I could hear more explosions as the Volkssturm triggered more booby traps. From the allies side of the river I saw the flash of rifles as they reacted to our firefight. It was all going horribly wrong.
Suddenly Beaumont appeared, “Sir!”
I ran to him, “What is it?”
“Sir there is a table here. It will float. If we sent two men across the river they might have some boats eh sir? Worth a try.”
“Good man. Get it in the water. Lieutenant Poulson, Sergeant Hay.” They both appeared, “Lieutenant, turn the MG 42 around and make a perimeter. You take charge of the southern end. Bill get White and Scott. I want the three of you to paddle a table across the river. I think they are French who are there. White’s French is perfect. See if they have boats and if not then bring back the table!”
He grinned, “Right sir. Don’t take this the wrong way sir, but you are as mad as a bag full of frogs!”
“Aren’t we all!”
I turned and unslung my MP 34. I saw that we now had a defensive line. I leaned the gun on the sandbags. “Fletcher, you and Davis watch the north side of the line. Foster you will be with me and Beaumont.”
Fletcher sounded worried, “Sir. Are we going to have to swim sir?”
“I hope not. The river will be bloody cold and it is very wide.” Just then I saw a muzzle flash from the woods. I fired a short burst and was rewarded by a cry. “Here they come. Beaumont!”
“It’s in the water sir. I am just making two paddles and a rudder.”
“Good lad.” Beaumont was the brightest of my men. I had not thought of a rudder. The Rhine would be flowing quickly. Our three men would end up well to the north east of us.
Beaumont threw himself next to me. “She is launched sir!”
When the MG 42 began to chatter then all conversation was impossible. We just had to hang on. I took a Mills bomb from my pocket, pulled the pin and hurled it high, “Grenade!”
It struck a tree which slowed it down so that it exploded in the air. The casing showered the advancing Germans. It would make them fall back. Just then I heard firing from behind me and voices shouting in French. Then there was more firing. Did our allies think this was a German trick?
Fletcher shouted, “Sir, A little help!”
“Beaumont, you and Foster hold here.” I crawled down to where Fletcher and Davis had used two dead Germans as a barricade. I could see shadows advancing. They were spread out from the river to the woods. “On my count rise, give them a burst and then we each throw a grenade.”
“Sir!”
“Sir!”
We ducked down and bullets shredded the two dead Germans. I took out a grenade and laid it where I could grab it. “One two, three.” I raised my head and, firing from left to right emptied my magazine. Davis fired his Colt and Fletcher his Thompson. Then I took the pin from the grenade and hurled it. I ducked. The three grenades went off simultaneously and we heard moans from before us. I reloaded. “They will be back!”
I wondered how long it would take for Hay to get across the river and, more importantly, how long to get back! I heard the MG 42. That was our best weapon. I also heard Beaumont encouraging Foster. This was his first action and it was a true baptism of fire.
“Here they come again, sir!”
Just then the sky became day as a flare was fired from the other side of the river. Mortar shells began to drop amongst the Germans who were suddenly illuminated. We opened fire too. Then machine guns added to the fire. Hay had reached the other side. Would the boats reach us before the Germans killed or captured us?
A voice from the river shouted, “Here sir!”
I looked down and saw a grinning Sam White. He was with French Commandos and they had three rubber boats. “Good lad! Everybody, throw one grenade and then back to me. We have boats.”
I threw a grenade and emptied my magazine. Davis and Fletcher did the same and scurried down to the boats. I heard the others as they were ordered back by Lieutenant Poulson. I counted them as they came by. Foster, Emerson, Beaumont and, finally, Poulson.
Fletcher shouted, “Come on sir. We are all in!”
I ran back and threw myself next to Fletcher. He handed me a paddle and we began to stroke as fast as we could. I heard explosions from the emplacement. I guessed that Beaumont had left booby traps. The flare had died down plunging the river into darkness. The French soldiers knew where we were going. As we reached the other side a French Captain with blacked out face stepped up to me. “Captain Harsker! It is good to se
e you!”
“And you Lieutenant Lemay!!
“It is now Captain thanks to you and the breakout to Paris. Come, let us get away from here.”
I turned to Sam White, “Well done, Same. Where are Scott and Sergeant Hay?”
His face clouded over. “Sergeant Hay was wounded sir and Eric is dead.”
Captain Lemay said, “I am sorry my friend. An overzealous soldier did not believe that you were British. He fired before we could stop him.”
I had thought we had escaped without losses. I had been wrong. I would not have sent Scott back but for his broken arm. Who would have thought that a tiny accident like that could end in death? Any sweetness of success was taken away by the sourness of Scott’s death.
Chapter 5
Captain Lemay led us to a mess tent where they were serving coffee and croissants! It was the French army! He said, “You have arrived just as the breakfast was being prepared. Good timing my friend.”
“Pure luck.”
“Your Sergeant Barker, sorry Sergeant Major Barker, he visited all the units along the river and told us that Commandos would be returning from a raid. The soldier who fired was nervous. Once again I am sorry.”
“Accident of war but it was Private Scott’s first mission. He had potential.”
We chatted for a while about what we had both done since the drive on Paris. I then asked, “My sergeant, could I see him?”
“Of course. He is in the sickbay. He was lucky. It was a flesh wound. The man who died stopped the bullet which hit Sergeant Hay.”
Bill was as upset about the death as I was. “It was a shame sir. Mind you but for Scott I would be dead. He was struggling with the rudder Beaumont had made and we were sinking. If he had kept control of the table it would have been me or White who copped it.”
