CHAPTER 11
A small quivering hand was offered followed by a bare forearm then a head of long, dark straggly hair.
“Slowly.” Hawkins commanded his voice full of menace as his guns sights were trained carefully at what appeared to be a young woman.
“Very slowly...move away from the altar.” Hawkins once again commanded joined by the other guns who were equally nervous. The girl stood upright, her dark hair covering most of her face, she wore a dress of burgundy which was darkened in patches by the stain of blood.
“It's OK Hawkins, it's just a girl.” Granger said lowering his heavy machine gun.
“I don't care if it's Mickey Mouse, don't drop your guard.” Hawkins meant business. George sighed and raised his weapon once more.
“Come on love, we're not going to hurt you.” Granger said with a hint of frustration in his voice. The young woman was clearly in shock, her skin was pale and she looked petrified.
“Ces créations bâtardes tout le monde ont tué.” The woman whispered, her voice warbling with her obvious trepidation.
“Yeah, yeah, don't worry we're here to save the day.” Granger once again relaxed his approach. Hawkins lowered his weapon and neared the shivering specimen who appeared to be a local although he did not understand what she had uttered. Showing her his British forces insignia, he held out his hand to offer her aid down the small number of steps. Refusing to accept the gesture, she crumpled into a heap and buried her head in her hands, convulsing gently. Hawkins sat beside her and cooed heartfelt platitudes whilst Granger snorted with mirth.
“Hawk, you're a tiger, you are.” He jested.
Beach sat on the long wooden pew and rested his weary legs. Granger dropped his machine gun on the floor and began rummaging around in his pack for something to eat. When the woman lifted her head, Hawk could see that she was a pretty little thing in her early twenties. Her petite form and classic good looks were somewhat overshadowed by her matted hair and dirtied skin.
“Do you speak English?” Hawkins asked pulling a bar of mint cake from his pocket and offering it to the girl. She accepted after carefully looking into his eyes, her caution quite evident.
“A little.” She whispered capturing Granger's attention.
“What's your name? My name is John.” Hawkins spoke slowly and simply.
“John.” The girl replied although her pronunciation sounded more akin to 'Jean' in her French accent.
“I am Genevieve.” Hawkins nodded, he was making headway.
“Are you from here?” Hawkins asked, attempting to avoid complex words or mispronouncing the French place names and making a fool of himself. Genevieve nodded in return.
“What happened to you?” He asked with interest.
“What the hell happened to you?” The young woman snapped back with real venom in her voice. It was quickly appraised that her command of English and its colourful colloquialisms was not as poor as first thought.
“Months of hope and then this...” It was clear Genevieve was disappointed in the Allies' rather poor showing. Hawkins felt compelled to defend his comrades who had sacrificed all to try and end the French people's subjugation.
“There was a slaughter; thousands have died including many of our friends...” Hawkins tone was harsh, his anger evident.
“I am sorry for your loss. Many more have died since this morning.” Genevieve added morbidly. Granger butted in.
“Yeah, what's going on then? I know you know.” He said, choosing to word his question poorly. Genevieve got the gist of his request however.
“Hah! You have no idea.” She hissed.
“Just tell us you stupid cow!” Beach suddenly interjected and snarled, it was unexpected and completely out of character. His harsh tone drew puzzled looks from his comrades who saw a young man close to the edge and living on his nerves.
“Hey! Shut your mouth, it's not helping.” Hawkins barked. “You need some sleep; I suggest you find somewhere to get your head down.”
Beach looked sheepish and sloped off without another word. Hawkins glanced at Granger and they shared the surprise of the outburst.
“Sorry about that. He is very upset, as are we that things have not gone...according to plan.” Hawkins spoke softly and with the emotion of the day in his voice. Genevieve wiped her eyes and flicked the hair out of her face. Sniffing away the tears, she physically puffed her chest and looked to pull herself together.
“There have been...a number of developments that could not have been foreseen. I have ties with the resistance and have been waiting for this day for many weeks. You must forgive my...err, harsh words.” Genevieve's tone lightened and Hawkins sat transfixed by the woman with whom he was undeniably attracted to.
“So what happened? We've seen many dead German soldiers...” Hawkins was eager to confirm that other Allied troops had been the cause of their demise.
“Indeed, many have died. When the thunder began this morning, we rejoiced. We expected only salvation...but now, I know that even if you had arrived sooner, it would have made no difference.”
Hawkins looked puzzled and he glanced over to his corporal who although silent was listening intently as he was savaging a piece of bread scavenged from the Germans' table.
“Go on.” Hawkins prompted a full recount of the woman's story.
“This morning, after the bombardment, it was clear that the invasion had failed. The Germans were marching through the streets gloating, drinking, taunting us wickedly...it should not have been this way. Although we lived in fear of the Germans, we had grown to live our lives around them, we were confident that when the time came, they could be easily overpowered. That is until yesterday...”
Hawkins was fascinated at the woman's command of his language, she was quite a beauty and even though her tale was so impactive, he could not help his eyes wandering, surveying the unblemished skin of her bare calves and her dainty feet.
“So what changed?” Hawkins interrupted, despite the fact that Genevieve was about to explain.
“Everything. Trucks, filled with soldiers appeared. They came with high ranking SS officers, Gestapo, people who did not belong in a small town such as this. The Resistance attempted to pass this information to the British but were arrested before they had a chance to communicate this information. It was clear that the Germans were expecting the Allied assault. I am not sure if they knew that Normandy was to be the location or if they were just in expectation of an attack...it was enough to repel all hope.”
“So someone spilled their guts about the operation.” Granger growled.
“I do not know. You are however not in possession of all the facts.” Genevieve clearly had more to say.
“Even with all the reinforcements, there should have been no chance of victory for the Germans. Their number was few against the might of the Allies. The reinforcements were...no ordinary soldiers.”
“Elite troops?” Hawkins asked, still wondering how a few truck-loads of soldiers could have annihilated so many.
“Forget what you know of elite soldiers, Special Forces...these bastards were barely human. They marched with a purpose, their faces grey and their eyes black. We saw them arrive at the offices here in Arromanches, the offices where the Germans govern under the rule of Klaus Rotenburg, a pig of a man who I have despised for so long. It seemed that they were dispersing along the coastline in readiness for your arrival.”
“Are you saying that a few hundred soldiers managed to wipe out the Allied forces before they even hit the beachhead? I'm telling you now, there were...” Granger began to rant and was quickly shut up by the feisty young French woman.
“Non. That is not what I said. In combination with the existing troops, they easily repelled the soldiers. The fighting began last night when we heard the aircraft over head and the flak cannons. We heard that thousands of Allies had parachuted in behind German defences and had been slaughtered in doing so. The new soldiers were invincible; they crushed their enemy with eas
e. They fought without fear, they shot with incredible accuracy, this is what I am told anyway.”
“Fairy stories...propaganda, I’ll bet.” Granger said, turning his nose up at the talk of 'invincible' soldiers.
“Idiot. How you have survived this long is a surprise to me.” Genevieve barked at any suggestion she was not telling the truth. Indeed, to Hawkins she sounded very convincing.
“So if the Allied assault failed, why have we found so many dead Germans?” Hawkins asked the obvious question.
“Yes, this is the crucial part, no?” Genevieve took a moment to pause as if reliving the moments of her past in her head.
“I was in the square; I work as a...secretary in the office of the council. Little work was being done; we were all inconsolable. We were getting news of the Allies failure. The Germans celebrated outside in the streets as the local people could only stand and watch. It was...heartbreaking. There were suddenly gunshots and great confusion. We all hid ourselves hardly daring to watch. I looked out on to the street from the little window high above in the attic. I could not believe my eyes when I see Germans running around in great panic shooting at each other! The confusion was so great, bullets were flying everywhere and one broke through my window!”
Genevieve began to get emotional and she once again fought back tears.
“Anyway, the attack seemed to end when the guns fell silent and it was then that I saw the reinforcement soldiers out in the street, walking slowly amongst the bodies of their comrades, shooting each of them in the head with such callousness...even though the wounded pleaded for mercy, they were given none.”
“That explains the Krauts at the beach. Executed whilst drinking to our bad health.” Granger added coarsely.
“That is not all of it.” Genevieve continued. Hawkins could barely believe the story thus far; little did he know it would get even more unlikely. Genevieve trembled as she told her tale.
“That is when I saw Klaus Rotenburg, a man I have hated for years emerged from his office. He was armed with a machine gun. He had been hiding. I thought I had witnessed a great many things in my life, some incredible, many horrifying, but I had yet to see anything like the sights of this morning. Mr Rotenburg fired his weapon...as close to the soldiers as I am to you. He fired with a steady aim and used the whole magazine. He cut two soldiers down. Thinking his job done, he walked away until the soldiers...began to move once again! Their bodies came back to life and in a moment, they had stood upright once more. Needless to say, their 'death' was soon avenged. Rotenburg was sprayed with a hail of bullets and he fell. I can only imagine his last thoughts being that of utter astonishment.”
“Speaking of astonishment. What a load of shit.” Granger said pessimistically as Hawkins noted Beach stood quietly in the corner listening intently. He was clearly more convinced.
“Shit?” Genevieve said her rage building.
“No mate, listen to her. There is some very weird stuff going on here and this is about the most credible source you're going to find.” Hawkins defended the girl vigorously.
“Oh John, do not speak for me, this idiot will understand soon enough.” She reiterated the fear and dread. Granger laughed out loud, still quite incredulous. He knew Hawkins had bought every aspect of her tall tale; there was little hope of turning him.
“I believe her” Beach called out nervously.
“Shut up Beach.” Granger replied. Hawkins turned to the skinny teenager whose face was beginning to annoy him.
“Yeah Beach. Shut up.”
CHAPTER 12
“What now then?” George Granger asked his mate who was as restless as he.
“To tell you the truth, I don't know. We need to hook up with some of our boys and get out of this place.” Hawkins replied quietly as Genevieve remained sitting meekly upon the red carpeted steps to the altar. Beach sat alone still mumbling to himself. He was not cut out for this and although the Commando's felt sorry for him, they had no wish to comfort him when they all felt equally as distressed and tired.
“Caen.” A quiet feminine voice came from behind them.
“I need to go to Caen. My mother is there. She is alone. My father is dead.” Genevieve was very matter of fact.
“Go on then.” Granger said obtusely.
“George, don't be such a prick.” Hawkins berated his pal; sometimes he could be quite callous.
“Hawk, don't be offended mate, but are you seriously considering escorting this bit of fluff to Caen? Home of the Nazi HQ in this region. 21st Panzer Division.” Granger never pulled his punches.
“Did I say that?” Hawkins replied although he had to admit to himself that he was open to ideas. George began to whisper.
“Look mate, I get it, she's top totty. Worth a fuck in anyone's book...but not to die for mate.”
Hawkins laughed it off.
“Listen, Caen means Bayeux, it's where we were all going to eventually end up anyway! If there are other Tommys out here, that's where they are heading too, they might already be there.”
“You're mad.” Granger replied firmly.
“George, what's the alternative? We stay here and wait for something to happen? Go back to the beach and start swimming?” Hawkins liked to move forward not back.
“Well, I would have thought a priority was to find a radio in good order.” The ginger corporal replied wisely.
“Well, chances are we will come across more dead Jerries on the way. As long as we miss the bulletproof ones, we'll be OK.” Hawkins smiled knowing that his mate had already dismissed the notion that they existed.
“If I didn't love you, I'd have to shoot you, you know that?” Granger jested.
“She is gorgeous isn't she?” Hawkins replied with a grin.
“I'll tell you what she was like in the morning.” The cheeky corporal knew Hawkins well.
“Right come on then woman. Let's go and find mummy.” Granger called out as he hoisted his Bren up to his waist. Genevieve was surprised at the Brits fortitude.
“Thank you. Both of you.” She cooed.
“What? Caen? You're fucking joking right?” Beach stood up waving his arms about in despair. “You're insane aren’t you?”
“You don't have to come.” Hawkins said coolly knowing that to be left behind was Beach's worst nightmare.
Beach stood in shock as the others filed out of the church, Genevieve the last to leave. She gave him a snide look as if she had won her personal battle and she winked, cruelly. Beach puffed his chest and ran after them, his weapon clanging against his belt as he went.
*
“Why are we walking?” Beach whined from the rear as they all trudged through the darkness of the Bocage.
“Because it's quiet...unlike you, you prat.” Granger replied. He had taken the rear of Genevieve so that he had at the very least something interesting to look at along the way. Caen was a large town and the prominent settlement in the Normandy region. It was to be the ultimate goal of the first day of the landings. The majority of the Allies knew that Field Marshall Montgomery's target was unrealistic. It had proven difficult enough to land and become an effective force on the beaches let alone move swiftly inland swatting all asunder.
Genevieve kept pace with Hawkins who took point. Despite her meek and mild appearance, she was rather tenacious and not one to suffer fools gladly. Hawkins did not want to attract undue attention by small talking down the winding roads but he yearned a little conversation. Genevieve was not too obliging; Hawkins had the impression that she was the sort to be convivial when it suited her. She was going to be a tough nut to crack.
A couple of arduous miles later and after a non eventful trek, the small group heard the sounds of smalls arm fire for the first time since the previous morning. Hawkins guessed it to be a dozen or so guns in the distance and it immediately brought everyone to attention as they bundled each other to the roadside. Creeping along the verge, guns with their safety's live and trigger fingers poised, the squad made heavy work of adv
ancing. The sounds of gunshots intensified and culminated in a large crack and then a sub-sonic boom that the soldiers could feel beat their chests. A plume of yellow fire mushroomed into the night sky from behind the hedgerows and Hawkins assumed that a quantity of petroleum had ignited.
Hawkins turned and silently ushered Genevieve to stay put as the others advanced. She seemed to baulk at being told what to do and her face offered a thunderous expression which almost brought a smile to Hawkins face. There was a T junction ahead and although there was no sign of movement, the odd shooting star effect from bullets fizzling from east to west could be glimpsed. There were raised voices and Hawkins felt that they may be German in origin but he could not say for sure. Granger tapped Hawkins shoulder and motioned that he was going to take the other side of the road. His Bren machine gun would be used to good effect from a position of cover and he immediately took flight and dived down into the soft leafy verge on the other side of the asphalt path. Beach hung so close to Hawkins advance that he was almost tripping up the Commando and he turned in annoyance and gave him a withering look. Hawkins did not like to have the green teenager on his six, he felt nervous that Beach was in charge of a sub-machine gun so close to his rear. Itchy trigger fingers led to severe accidents and Hawkins felt ill at ease with the trembling novice behind him.
Suddenly, the gunfire petered out, a few last blasts echoed down the road and then silence resumed. The only thing that could be heard was the crackling of burning wood and a soft glow emanated from up ahead over the shrubbery. Picking up their pace and moving in tandem, Hawkins and Granger reached the junction and took cover to survey their surroundings. They crawled as close as they dare to witness a badly damaged German troop-carrying truck, bonnet in flames and buried into a hedge. Many bodies littered the surrounding area, some hanging from their limbs over the side of the vehicle which was askew, its rear onside wheel off the ground. Hawkins gripped his SMG tightly as there was movement! Underneath the chassis of the truck, between the wheels Hawkins could see a forlorn soldier, trapped and trying in vain to free himself. With his attention fully on the plight of this unfortunate individual, Hawkins had failed to notice an approaching soldier from his left and whilst Granger furiously tried to bring his friends attention to the oncoming combatant, Hawkins was oblivious until the slowly pacing soldier was virtually standing a few feet from him. Hawkins froze immediately and wisely did not attempt to dive into the greenery which would have caused a distinct sound. Hawkins even squinted his eyes lest the soldier catch the white reflection of the moonlight in his glassy orbs and which great relief and a modicum of good fortune, the soldier passed him by as he made his way towards the truck.
Necrocide Page 7
