Tigers on the Western Front (Royal Zombie Corps Book 2)

by Harald,C. M.

  A number of tactics had been worked out and trialled in the controlled conditions of the camp. The majority of the thinking had been devoted to the offensive applications of the new weapon. It had been worked out that with a ratio of around ten Tigers to each handler, effective combat groups could be built. Each group would be accompanied by a rifle squad of around five troops. By careful movement across the battlefield, the humans could stay alive, behind the Tigers, which would draw enemy fire. The Tigers themselves did not need to be so careful on the battlefield, with only sustained machine gun fire and direct hits from shelling like to be a problem. Some troops, such as Marsh and his squad, had experimented with fast movement from cover to cover, both zombies and humans. By this approach, they hoped to get close to the enemy trench before launching an assault led by the zombies in the role of shock troopers, followed by the remainder of the squad. It was hoped that under such a fierce assault, the enemy would collapse and the objective would be quickly secured. Marsh was helped by his natural ability to control at least fifty Tigers at one time, a number limited by those Tigers available to the unit. This phenomenal skill was far beyond that yet demonstrated by anyone else in the Battalion. Yet Marsh knew he would need to take into combat less zombies than he could control. This would allow him to have the capacity to bring new zombies under his influence. This would further swell the ranks of the unit while preventing newly reanimated corpses from becoming a problem for the follow on forces, or even his own security squad. Yet, despite the experimental work by a few handlers, most squads in the Battalion pursued the standard infantry approach of moving directly toward the enemy with minimal distraction, such as use of cover.

  The battlefield survival ability of the zombies had led directly to the second assault technique that had been developed. Several Tigers had been expended in the attempts to prove4 this method. There had been great distress from the volunteer machine gun team when they thought they had successfully destroyed a zombie, only to find that they had shot it in half, the top half continuing to advance on them. The team had run away when the half corpse mounted their sandbag and the handler had to call it off to prevent friendly casualties. Thus a second clear tactic had formed around the idea of saturating a target with large numbers of Tigers. For example a fortified position could be attacked from several directions by dozens of Tigers. Eventually the Tigers would overwhelm the objective, even if they had been badly damaged by the defensive fire. Nothing short of a head shot would prevent their victory. Unfortunately, this tactic was not possible as things stood. There simply were not enough Tigers available to deploy them in such overwhelming numbers.

  Regardless of the tactics to be used, there now existed the potential to break the stalemate on the Western Front. A stalemate enforced by the horrific defensive power of the machine gun and modern artillery, the traditional offensive tools of cavalry and massed infantry truly overwhelmed. Colonel Hudson had sold General Haig, commander of the British Expeditionary Force in France, on the idea that the Tigers could be a breakthrough weapon. Simply, they could smash the enemy front line with the more traditional infantry and cavalry arms used to exploit the gap. Haig had apparently been very excited and talked about a use of a combination of arms including the new 'tank' weapon that was being developed, and had first seen action in late summer at Deville Wood. However, Hudson was concerned that just like the 'tank', and the improved high explosive shell before it, Haig would deploy the Tigers too soon and in insufficient numbers to force a significant breakthrough.

  Of course, the concepts needed proving in combat and it was the end of December 1916 when the unit found themselves moving through the lines for their first attack since reforming as an experimental unit. The attack was focused on a small and quiet sector of the German front line held by some Bavarian troops. The primary objective was to test the Tiger tactics in a combat environment with a view to expansion to a larger scale at the earliest possible opportunity. This trial would be achieved by assaulting a small forward trench and machine gun post with Tigers. Regular troops would provide a second wave to secure the objective once the enemy had been chased off. There were secondary objectives, notably to acquire additional Tigers through combat recruitment, while testing the survivability of reanimated corpses that they already had.

  In great secrecy the unit had been moved up to the front line, the Tigers concealed in special windowless cages that, if anyone questioned, would further the exotic animal cover story the Battalion continued to operate under. On reaching the rearmost reserve trench, the cargoes had been unloaded from a light railway with the handlers taking control of their charges. There were ten Tigers to each handler, every group supported by a rifle squad acting both as protection for the handler, but also to police the Tigers should the handler be incapacitated. Every soldier present knew the danger should a handler lose control of their charges. The communications trenches they advanced along had been cleared of regular soldiers so as to avoid any panicked encounters and maintain secrecy. Each rifle squad, bringing up the front and rear of their groups, would also provide an extra barrier to keep the regulars away. A former supply dump in the second line had been cleared and the unit gathered under camouflaged canvas, ready for deployment into the forward trench. With so few Tigers, there were only five combat groups available, along with additional reserve handlers and riflemen. The zombies were kept quiet by their handlers, their unnatural movements still spooking the accompanying humans, despite their months of exposure to the charges. There was a short preparatory artillery barrage planned for a little while after dawn, under cover of which the unit was to move into the front line.

  Marsh found that his fear, of returning to combat, was rapidly rising to the surface. The horror of his single experience in the trenches had tormented his sleep on a regular basis. The faces of the Germans he had fought, the killing of men who were ready to kill him, all appeared in his mind when trying to sleep. Lieutenant Scott had checked on his men and had the quiet nervousness of a veteran readying to return to the fight. Marsh found it hard to concentrate and his mental fears seemed to be leaking to his charges, who were increasingly snapping with frustration at the wait.

  'Marsh, you look a mess.' Simpson said with contempt as he walked over to Marsh and his charges, 'You look barely able to control yourself, let alone face the enemy.' Simpson grabbed at a piece of Marsh's webbing and attempted to straighten it, but Marsh shrugged him off, the Tigers growing even more agitated.

  'I've been in action before Sarge, I know what to expect.' Marsh replied in a quiet voice.

  'Well, just needed to make sure that you don't let us down. Can't have you embarrassing us. It's bad enough that you look the way that you do.'

  'I'll be fine Sarge, I've got my combat group backing me. I know how to use them.' Marsh could tell that Simpson was still not convinced, so he added firmly, 'I'm the only person who's used a Tiger in action.'

  'Well make sure you don't mess up today.' Simpson walked away, ensuring that he got the last word.

  'Bastard!' Morgan sneezed the word into his hand as Simpson went by, the Sergeant choosing to ignore the comment.

  'He's just edgy like the rest of us Taff.' Marsh said by way of excuse for the Sergeant's attitude.

  'No he's not Alfie, don't defend him.' Morgan disagreed, 'He's always on your case. Simply can't accept that a soldier can be good without joining the spit and polish brigade.' Morgan spat to show what he thought of the sergeant and his attitude.

  'Taff's right. We're all on edge,' Davies said agreeing with Morgan, 'We all know what it's like, but we ain't taking it out on each other like he does. Bloody useless instructor and now a bloody useless NCO.' Davies pulled his bayonet out and started sharpening it for the third time that night.

  'But don't forget, he got a gong with his last mob.' Simmonds added, 'So he must be useful at something.'

  'Army's full of shit's like him.' Matthews interrupted, 'Get over it and get on, or you'll go mad. Saw enough of it w
hen we was training at the start of the war, all those regulars telling us what to do. He's a glory hunter so he'll probably buy a plot soon enough.'

  'Or he'll get everyone else killed in his search for glory.' Morgan said gloomily.

  'You lot look cheerful.' Wells interrupted as he walked over completing his own pre-combat checks.

  'Simpson.' Marsh rolled his eyes, but Wells had already picked up the meaning from his tone.

  'Helpful as always, I presume.' Wells said, 'Did he criticise your sewing this time?' He indicated the corporal stripes on Marsh's arm, a couple of the men chuckling at the suggestion, 'You've earnt those. You're the best handler we've got and the Colonel knows it. So show that idiot what you can do.' Wells took in the rest of the squad, 'And you lot,' The chuckling ended, 'make sure Marsh gets through it alive otherwise I'll come down to hell to kick your immortal arses.' He laughed and walked off.

  The barrage started shortly after dawn, timed so that the Bavarians would be lining the trench waiting to receive a dawn attack. The Colonel had proposed this timing as a way to catch the enemy out, although such thinking was commonplace in military circles. Despite it being the second time that the men in the combat group had been in action against the enemy, the sound of the shells travelling overhead still set their teeth on edge. Davies pulled out his bayonet, testing it on the remains of a wooden ammunition crate and decided it was too blunt. He began his routine of sharpening it again. Marsh passed around cigarettes, although his hands were shaking so much, he nearly dropped them. Matthews had found a semi-comfortable part of the fire step to sit on and was discretely sipping from a small flask. Morgan and Simmonds were busy trying to play cards.

  Marsh looked around at the other combat groups in sight and wondered why he only had a four man squad supporting him. It was during these thoughts that Wells arrived.

  'Thought I'd join you Alfie.' Wells said smiling, 'Deliberately kept you short-handed so I could come along for the action.'

  'Just like the old times then.' Marsh grinned offering a cigarette, even though the old times he spoke of had only occurred once.

  'Just like the old times.' Wells agreed, 'Oh, and by the way, you're still in charge of this combat group. Just cause I've got the stripes doesn't mean I'm in charge. You're got the Tigers so we do what you do and go where you go.'

  'Five minutes until the off.' Lieutenant Scott walked past, adding that he was going to be on their left. He returned a short time later, standing next to a trench ladder and watching his timepiece. He intended to fight alongside Marsh as well.

  The shelling stopped and the Tigers were even more restless, picking up on the fear around them. Scott pulled out his whistle and checking his watch, started to blow, just at the same time as someone to the left of the line also began to whistle.

  'Up and forward.' Marsh commanded to his animated corpses.

  Marsh's group of zombies climbed up a cattle ramp that had been put in place for just that purpose. It was not that the Tigers were not able to handle ladders, in fact in some experiments they were, it was just that most handlers were not able to communicate such sophisticated instructions. The humans climbed out of the trenches using the usual assault ladders. As Marsh stepped over the parapet, he saw a long line of zombies spreading out from their exit points. Commanding his charges forward, he ducked towards a crater a few yards ahead of him. The rest of the squad, along with the attached NCO and officer, spread out around him. The soldiers moved from cover to cover, ready to protect him from either the enemy or out of control Tigers.

  By the time the Bavarians had manned their parapet, the fastest Tigers from Marsh's combat group were almost upon the enemy trench. The machine gun post started to fire, two zombies knocked down by the force of the impacts, only to get up again and resume their run toward the enemy. The machine gun was set to shoot low across no-mans-land, intended to hit knees and body mass, not the vulnerable heads of the zombies. Yet, either there was a lucky shot or a skilled marksman among the enemy as another two zombies fell in quick succession, this time their heads exploding as bullets smashed through them. The shooting was all one-sided, with none of the advancing Allies firing on the enemy trenches, the living attackers happy to let the dead draw the defensive fire.

  Marsh ran from crater to crater, keeping as low a profile as possible, while zig-zagging to present a more challenging target. He need not have bothered as the enemy were concentrating their fire on the zombies. He saw the first of his Tigers reach the enemy trench and shouted the order to attack. As he ran down the steep side of a crater, he heard the first panicked screams from the German trenches. Without losing his footing, he sprinted out the other side of the crater, and ran around an undamaged length of wire, his guard matching his fast pace.

  The scene in the trench was horrifying. Marsh got his first glimpse as he climbed over the parapet. Two of the enemy were down on the floor, one with his Stahlhelm style helmet torn off, his neck broken by the impact of a Tiger landing on him. The other soldier had bite marks all over his neck and face, his hands also badly bitten during his feeble defensive efforts. Even as Marsh watched, this Bavarian began to reanimate, the bacteria work a form of life back into the broken body. Further up the trench, four of his charges were assaulting two more soldiers including one wearing a traditional Pickelhaube helmet.

  'Ich ergebe mich!' The Pickelhaube wearing soldier shouted as he saw Marsh and his armed escort.

  'Leave them!' Shouted Marsh, but it was too late for the shouting Bavarian, his arm torn into by the teeth of two Tigers.

  The squad took custody of the intact enemy soldier, while Marsh brought the new zombies, reanimating along the trench, under his control. The enemy machine gun, along the line, suddenly ceased firing, overrun by another combat group. The attack had clearly been a success and Marsh still had control of eight of his original ten Tigers, although a couple of them had been badly damaged by machine gun fire. In addition to these, three new recruits had been added to his group of zombies, proving that combat conditions were clearly the best recruiting grounds for the new unit.

  Eager to secure the trench, Marsh moved along the wooden boarded track to check on the possibility that other enemies would not come around a bend at the end of the stretch of trench. He did not see the bunker entrance hidden behind some crates. He also did not see the soldier who emerged, bayonet held in hand, determined to avenge his fellows and driven half mad with fear at the unnatural assault by the zombies. The man rushed Marsh, both of them falling to the ground, the Bavarian on top trying to push his bayonet into Marsh's chest. Marsh had him by the wrists, yet the Bavarian's weight was slowly forcing the knife point into Marsh's battledress. In a moment of pure terror, Marsh knew that he could not win. The man's eyes were bloodshot, almost crazed by what he had seen, his long droopy moustache damp with the morning dew. There was a moment when they both looked into each other's eyes and Marsh felt a moment of peace. He felt ready to surrender to the inevitable. Yet, without warning the Bavarian was bodily lifted off Marsh, held high in the air by one of the Tigers before the terrified German was thrown down onto the floor. There was a swarming of the zombies as they dove on the prostrate soldier, shredding his flesh and gnawing into his limbs. One Tiger was even punching the stomach, quickly piercing the taut flesh with torn nails before gorging itself on the spilled contents.

  Marsh slowly got up as he watched the sight. The zombies, his zombies, had swarmed on an enemy to save him. It was true that the German had died, no was dying, horrifically. It was as if the Tigers had picked up on his distress, guided in by the terror of their handler. He knew he could control the Tigers with words, and sometimes with thoughts. Yet this time he had not cried out, nor had he thought instructions or orders. Instead they had responded to the nature of the situation, taking action that protected him. It almost felt like the zombies were an extension of his mind, tools that could be set upon a problem without deliberate thought.

  As he gathered himself, he watche
d as the Tigers consumed their prey beyond the point of reanimation. It was suspected that sizeable parts of the corpse would need to be intact for reanimation, and there was no possibility if the brain was damaged. The Tigers put it beyond doubt when one of them smashed in the temples of the Bavarian soldier, beginning to consume his brain.

  The trench was clear of the enemy as far as he could see. There were still shouts and screams from further down the line, but Marsh could see no current target for his Tigers and so spread them along the line to prevent them from being wiped out by a lucky artillery hit. However, his security squad kept their a distance, horrified at what had happened to the man who had ambushed Marsh.

  'We're falling back. The second wave has already been called off.' It was Lieutenant Scott, his pistol drawn. He came running along the enemy trench, stopping when he reached Marsh, 'Get your team ready and get going. Those idiots up the line thought that they were playing at the Somme, and marched their Tigers over the field. They didn't have enough left to completely overrun the enemy.'

  'What, they didn't use the land to get in close like we did?' Marsh asked.

  'No, bloody Simpson was with them and demanded that standard doctrine be followed.'

  'Nothing standard about using Tigers.' Marsh replied.

  'Sergeant Wells.' Marsh called over his friend, 'Can you organise covering fire, if we need it? We'll retreat using whatever cover we can find. You come after us as soon as we've cleared the first lot of wire.'

  'Can do Alfie.' Wells replied, 'Lieutenant, will you be with us?' He addressed Scott.

  'Wouldn't miss it for the world.' Scott replied, swapping his pistol for a rifle the enemy had discarded. He quickly checked the action, loading it with some rounds he took off a corpse.