Initiative (The Red Gambit Series Book 6)

by Colin Gee

  “I see, Frau Hallmann. And the significance of this other scrawl?”

  “Unknown to me, Brigadeführer. But clearly my godson is supposed to know. I had hoped you’d know how to get hold of him, as he’s one of ours.”

  Kumm nodded.

  “Yes, I know how to get hold of Knocke, Frau Hellmann.”

  “Can you get this note to him, Brigadefuhrer?”

  He looked at his playing partner with a smile.

  “I think we can arrange that easily enough, don’t you, Willi?”

  The ex-SS senior officer simply nodded and savoured his chilled Riesling.

  “Yes, Otto. Easily.”

  Ex-SS Obergruppenführer Willi Bittrich, now Général de Brigade in the French Foreign Legion, finished his wine and accepted the note.

  Frau Hallmann cycled home, less speedily, as the road was uphill most of the way.

  She wheeled her bicycle into the barn and went in to make herself coffee, unaware that eyes watched her from across the street, and that she had been followed all the way to Riedenhausen, and all the way back.

  1333 hrs, Sunday 18th August 1946, Officer’s Canteen, US 130th Station Hospital, Chiseldon, UK.

  Major Presley had finished her lunch and was relaxing with a cup of the finest Columbian, having reserved the final fifteen minutes before her shift began to read the Sunday Pictorial, and the section relative to yesterday’s events at the Palace.

  Sipping greedily at the fresh coffee, she examined the picture of Ramsey, complete with his latest Victoria Cross, shortly to become a bar to his original award.

  She examined his posture and grunted to herself, proud of the fact that he stood erect and seemingly comfortable, a resolution she found wholly satisfying, given the effort the man had given to getting ‘back on his feet’.

  Setting the paper against the empty vase, she relaxed into her chair and read the story.

  From our Royal Correspondent.

  At the investiture ceremony conducted at Buckingham Palace yesterday, Saturday 17th August, His Majesty the King presented Lieutenant Colonel John Eric Arthur Ramsey VC, DSO and three bars, MC and bar, with a second award of the most prestigious gallantry award, the Victoria Cross.

  Lieutenant Colonel Ramsey, of 7th Battalion, The Black Watch, was given his second award for extreme gallantry and leadership at the Battle of Barnstorf, which occurred during the heavy fighting in Northern Germany that ensued throughout October 1945.

  He was severely wounded during that battle, losing both his legs in an explosion, but has since made excellent progress with prosthetics, and was able to walk unassisted to the presentation stool to receive his medal from the hands of the King.

  Whilst the second award of a Victoria Cross is unusual, in as much as only three other service personnel have so honoured, this award is totally unique.

  The facts of his exemplary conduct initially only came to light because of a hand-written note placed inside his battledress by a senior officer of the Soviet Red Army, a man against whom Ramsey had fought on that fateful day.

  The Soviet Colonel, an officer called Jarishlov, commanded the troops who captured Ramsey after the Black Watch officer had successfully, and at great personal cost, destroyed a vital route over the Hunter River, holding up a major enemy attack almost single-handedly.

  Badly wounded, Ramsey was given safe conduct back to the Allied lines, from where he was taken to hospital, where US doctors saved his life.

  Medical staff found the Soviet officer’s note amongst his old battledress some months later, and the process of investigation was started.

  Normally, the recommendation for the Victoria Cross should come from an officer at or the equivalent level of regimental command, an, it seemed clear, that the officer recommending in this instance satisfied that requirement.

  The cause of disagreement within the hallowed halls of the War Ministry was that the officer in question was an enemy.

  The Prime Minister came to hear of the discussions, and directed that additional investigations should be made amongst the survivors of the Battle of Barnstorf, and, if any award was considered due, then it should be made, regardless of the fact that the initiating officer was Russian.

  Investigations soon revealed a tale of great heroism and superb leadership in the face of overwhelming odds, over and above that cited by the Russian officer.

  The award process reviewed all evidence and decided that the criteria for a second award had been met, and exceeded.

  So intriguing was the story that the King invited Lieutenant Colonel Ramsey to his study to discuss the battle and the minutiae of his award in private.

  Lieutenant Colonel Ramsey is pictured displaying his new medal, accompanied by his wife, Lucinda, and his senior nurse, Major Jocelyn Presley of the US Army Medical Service, who nursed him through his recovery.

  It might surprise the reader that this officer still seeks to be actively involved in the defence of his country, and has recently accepted a position within the Department of Procurement in the Ministry of War.

  The Victoria Cross was also awarded to Sergeant Carl Jones, of 4th Royal Welch Fus…

  Presley shook her head, part in awe at the man’s drive and commitment to the cause, but also partially because he had done his bit, given so much of himself, in literal as well as mental terms, and still could not take a back seat.

  She even felt a modicum of anger, something that Jocelyn Presley immediately baulked at, and became angry with herself for having such a thought.

  She folded the Sunday paper and left the canteen, determined to throw herself into her work and overcome the negative thought.

  “Good afternoon, Lieutenant. Any problems?”

  “Good afternoon, Major. Only the usual suspect. Simply won’t lie still. Major Levens wrote him up for some more analgesia, but he won’t let me administer it.”

  The syringe and its paraphernalia were set in a kidney dish, ready for use.

  Presley checked the documentation and nodded to the nurse going off duty.

  “I’ll deal with him, don’t you worry. Enjoy the rest of your day, Lieutenant.”

  She strode purposefully towards the man in question.

  “Good afternoon, Colonel Crisp. I hear you’ve been causing trouble again.”

  1759 hrs, Sunday, 18th August 1946, the Oval Office, Washington DC, USA.

  “Three… two… one… and cue.”

  The microphone went live.

  “My fellow Americans, and peoples of the free world, good evening.”

  Truman’s voice resounded from radios and speakers the length and breadth of the United States, and in many corners of the world beyond.

  “I am speaking to you from the Oval Office on this most momentous of days, a day when I can bring to you tidings that herald an end to the fighting that has blighted our world for months and years.”

  “Your government, and those of the Allied Alliance, have been involved in talks with the government of the Soviet Union, talks that were aimed at bringing the hostilities to a swift end, and restoring the political map of Europe to something approaching normal.”

  “I am here to tell you that a ceasefire has been successfully negotiated and that, as a result, hostilities between the NATO alliance and the Soviet Union will cease at midnight tonight, Greenwich Mean Time, that is to say, in one hour from the commencement of this address.”

  “This announcement is being repeated across the spectrum of our Allied nations, from Prime Minister Churchill in the United Kingdom, to President Camacho in Mexico.”

  It was eleven o’clock at night in London, but Churchill had acquiesced to the timetable, knowing that his countrymen would need to know at the exact same time.

  “We have agreed a ceasefire in order to save more lives, prevent more destruction, and in order to immediately look to commencing the rebuilding of our world.”

  “There will be a phased withdrawal by all Soviet forces, returning them to the national lines that wer
e in place on 6th October 1939, with some small alterations, from which position negotiations will continue, in order to restore Europe to her 1938 political boundaries.”

  President Truman moved on to flesh out some of the agreements in place, and some that were expected to be negotiated in future, but not everyone was listening any more.

  0008 hrs, Monday, 19th August 1946, the Rathaus, Aachen, Germany.

  “Small alterations… bastards.”

  The nods were universal.

  “Bastards. We’ve lost the initiative.”

  Speer sat back from his notes, throwing his pen across the table. He already knew what was going to be said in any case.

  Guderian wiped his hands across his face, seeking to refresh himself. He had not slept for nearly thirty-six hours.

  Von Vietinghoff played with his pen, seeking some solace in its gentle tapping on the table.

  Karl Renner, the only Austrian present, remained subdued.

  It again fell to Speer to speak.

  “So, we have been betrayed once more. Our soldiers have committed to the joint cause to defeat communism, and our weak allies have fallen short of their stated objectives… objectives they swore to me… to us… to uphold, come what may.”

  He stood and walked around the table, holding his hands behind his back.

  “The Communists are weak, they have shown that by coming to the table. They didn’t when we were at the gates of Moscow, or laid siege to Leningrad, so they are weaker now than they were then… and yet our glorious allies choose to cease the fight. We have the initiative... we should attack, attack, attack!”

  Von Vietinghoff spoke his thoughts, interrupting Speer.

  “The initiative is lost, Herr Kanzler. We have surrendered it, but then, they do not have it either. The Communists will use this time wisely. They will rearm and resupply, despite what Truman says. We know they will hide their efforts well enough to get it done, especially if peace provides them with an umbrella.””

  They all nodded, knowing that Eisenhower had said as much himself, despite the agreed reconnaissance flights that the Allies could conduct without interception.

  “And these demarcation lines… stop in place now… roll back over the winter to October 1939 lines, except for the ‘small alteration’ of Prussia, which will remain in Soviet hands, to be negotiated at whatever meeting is arranged for Spring 1947, all because the predictions are for another hard winter.”

  Guderian raised his hand to speak, and did so without acknowledgement.

  “If it’s like last winter, the armies could not operate, Herr Kanzler.”

  “So that means that the Communists have until spring next year to sort their forces out. Who knows what weapons they might have to hand by then? They have jets… shitty ones from what Galland reports, but they may get better ones. We’ve heard about these new tanks, and how they are better than anything else they have.”

  Speer slammed his hands on the desk.

  “All we’ve done is give the bastards time to prepare!”

  He resumed his seat and took on a softer tone.

  “Is there anyone around this table that believes this is anything but a ruse by Stalin and his lackeys? To buy time to save his army? Anyone who thinks other than he will use the time to rearm and replenish, whilst our Allies will draw back, weaken themselves, and enjoy the ‘hard-won’ peace…eh?”

  There were no takers.

  “I believe that Stalin will start all over again. We’ve discussed this, and I know you all… all of you…” he nodded to the one man who had remained silent and immovable throughout, “…Agree that we cannot let this peace treaty stand.”

  The nods were universal.

  Guderian interrupted again.

  “But, Herr Kanzler, we cannot operate during the winter and…”

  “Yes, we know that, Generalfeldmarschal, but we cannot let this peace stand, for it deprives all of us around the table with less than we had before we put these Communist bastards in their place during this last year. So many men have died, so much territory has been lost, and we’re just recovering it… and now this?”

  The Austrians were the greater winners amongst the group, losing only a small corner of their country, and one that was slated to be recovered during the winter withdrawal.

  None the less, Austrian Präsident Karl Renner nodded to show that he was still behind the venture.

  Speer acknowledged the commitment with his own simple gesture.

  Guderian paused to let the silent exchange run its course.

  “Herr Kanzler, we know the reasons behind what you are proposing, but there is a simple matter of logistics and capability that cannot be denied. We cannot do what we have discussed for some time to come… probably two and a half months… which would mean winter, not the Russians, would be our greatest enemy. It must be delayed.”

  “I agree.”

  Von Vietinghoff could not do otherwise.

  Renner raised his hand and the floor was ceded immediately.

  “I’m not a military man, but my Chief of Staff agrees, Herr Kanzler. It cannot be done, so we must bear it.”

  More than one brain suggested the thought that Austria had little to concern itself with, but all remembered that Renner had aligned himself both before and after the terms of the ceasefire were agreed.

  Speer canted his head slightly in acceptance of the Austrian statement.

  “So, we seem to be in a position where we have to accept and observe this… temporary settlement… because logistics and winter obstruct us. Do you agree, Herr Präsident?”

  The previously silent man spoke in heavily accented German.

  “My military advisors tell me this is the only way, Herr Kanzler.”

  “Thank you, Herr Präsident.”

  Neither party could yet get used to the fact that they were bedfellows in the enterprise. They both thought that time would possibly forge a stronger bond between their countries, although the enmity and hate of centuries that lay between them now would probably prove the stronger emotions. Just so long as they honoured their agreements, and tackled the mutual enemy.

  “So, I seek a voice vote on the matter. A simple yes or no. Given what we have discussed previously, and I will pose the question like this. Do we accept the arrangements negotiated by our Allies without further comment, and appear to be full partners in the venture, whilst making our own plans, roughly as outlined by Generalfeldmarschal Guderian, but accepting that the delay will inevitably mean the enemy will strengthen themselves but…” he acknowledged Guderian, “… That we will also profit from the delay in some ways… or do we not?”

  The ‘yes’ votes were universal.

  Speer nodded in acceptance.

  “Herr Präsident, Kameraden, on that basis, do we agree to begin our preparations for the spring, with the full intention of implementing our military and political plans at the earliest possible moment post-winter?”

  He patted the folder sat in front of him, one of only seven in existence.

  It contained their thinking for Operation Undenkbar, in itself a clever name, designed to supposedly mimic one devised by Churchill’s henchmen over a year beforehand.

  Undenkbar… Unthinkable…

  “Do we agree, in principle, to implement Fall Undenkbar in the spring of 1947? I can tell you that the Graf is in favour.”

  Speer spoke of Johann Ludwig Graf Schwerin von Krosigk

  He looked to Guderian who gave him the expected answer.

  “Jawohl.

  Von Vietinghoff…

  “Jawohl.”

  Karl Renner…

  “Jawohl.”

  The other Austrian member, Adolf Schärf, was absent, apparently suffering from a severe digestive complaint, although the real reason was known only to Renner.

  Wilhelm Hoegner, Prime Minister of Bavaria…

  “Ja.”

  All eyes swivelled to the immaculately dressed man at the end of the table.

  The
moment was too great for a simple word.

  It required dignified speech.

  “Our countries are traditional enemies, and you have visited unprovoked violence upon my people on at least three occasions within living memory.”

  He leant forward and clasped his hands together.

  “And yet, it seems the only way forward is for my country to ally itself with yours, so that it can be made whole again as, yet again, we find ourselves betrayed by those are supposedly our friends. This also appears to be our best hope for an end to the curse of Communist oppression. So, for the good of my country…”

  He opened his hands towards the group, palms first.

  “… I say… tak.”

  ‘Yes.’

  With that one word, Władysław Raczkiewicz, the President of Poland, allied his country and soldiers to those of Germany and Austria, and became a full partner in the plan to rekindle war in Europe.

  To be continued…..

  List of Figures within Initiative.

  Fig # 1 – Table of comparative ranks

  Fig # 179 – Europe, May 1946.

  Fig # 180 – The Japanese Home Islands.

  Fig# 181 – The Baisha River, Zhujiawan, China.

  Fig # 182 - Opposing forces at the Baisha River, China.

  Fig # 183 - Baisha River battle.

  Fig# 184 – Bräunisheim, Germany.

  Fig # 185 - Opposing forces at Hamburg 17th June 1946.

  Fig # 186 - Hamburg, Germany - unit dispositions.

  Fig# 187 – the Battle of Hamburg

  Fig # 188 – Camp 1001, Akhtubinsk, USSR

  Fig # 189 – Organisation of the Legion Corps D’Assaut, June 1946.

  Fig # 190 – The Fulda, Germany.

  Fig # 191 – Allied Order of Battle – the Fulda River, 24th June 1946.

  Fig # 192 – The Legion’s second battle on the Fulda.

  Fig # 193 – Soviet Order of Battle – Knickhagen on the Fulda River, 24th June 1946.