The Shadow of War

by Jack Murray

  ‘Look,’ pointed out Manfred, ‘the enemy barrage is too heavy. Do you want to be hauled off the field before we even have a chance to engage the enemy?’

  The silent reaction told its own story.

  ‘Fine,’ continued Manfred. ‘We will roll over and over on the ground in order to reach a new assault position. Yes, you’ll get a little dirty. Follow me.’

  With that, he flung himself onto the dung, covering the field, and began to roll over and over. With rifles pressed between their knees, tight to their chests they rolled, cursing and swearing as they went. The escarpment was half a kilometre ahead. Behind it lay ‘the enemy’. To reach them they had to scale the small farm fence then climb the rock face. This would take them to the rear of the defence position.

  Manfred led the way. For the next fifteen minutes they crawled through the mud, the mulch and the manure. The rain persisted, beating down on their tin helmets with a metronomic pulse. The conditions made progress slow. However, pointed out Manfred to his comrades, it would provide a distraction for their enemy. This was partly out of hope, and partly out of a desire to keep their spirits up.

  They finally arrived at the perimeter fence closest to the defender encampment. One by one they hopped over the fence and sprinted towards the escarpment, praying they would not be seen.

  Scaling the rock face presented a separate challenge. Although it was no more than seven or eight metres in height, Matthias still looked at it with a degree of anxiety. Manfred, as leader, selected himself to go first.

  The first few minutes at the base of the escarpment was spent looking for a route that might be scalable. Finally, he identified what he hoped was the safest approach. He felt nervous, however. By now he was acutely aware that they were in a great position, far in advance of his other comrades. But they had cheated. There would be consequences, he felt sure. And then there was the escarpment which seemed more like a cliff every time he looked up. Now, there was a real risk of injury if he fell. And if anyone fell, he knew it would be his responsibility. Manfred felt very nervous.

  The rock face was solid. Manfred put the gun over his back and began the ascent. The main problem was less the availability of footholds than the weather conditions. He whispered down to his companions, ‘Be careful. It’s every bit as slippery as it looks.’

  Manfred made his way up carefully, rock by rock, foothold by foothold. After a few minutes he reached the top. He leaned over the edge and used his rifle to help pull up the men following him.

  -

  From a vantage point at the headquarters of the attackers, Drexler, standing with the colonel, observed the action through his binoculars with a smile on his face. He pointed out what was happening to the colonel and soon all of the senior soldiers were watching in fascination at the flanking move led by Manfred.

  ‘Very good,’ commented the colonel. ‘Who is leading those boys?’

  ‘Brehme, sir,’ replied Drexler. ‘If you remember, he was one of the boys that ran for nearly two hours on the parade ground.’

  ‘Ah yes, I remember him. Interesting isn’t it? Every two or three months someone has the same idea. Until then we see these boys get mown down like sheep going to slaughter. Keep an eye on him, Drexler.’

  ‘I am, sir,’ confirmed Drexler.

  -

  Manfred’s platoon made good progress up the escarpment. Within a few minutes they arrived at the top. Matthias was the last to attempt the ascent. His first effort was humiliating. He fell within the first two metres. Manfred was frustrated by this but, equally, recognised his friend was trying his best. He ordered the man in front of Matthias to stay on the ridge which ran along the middle of the rockface. It presented a good foothold and allowed the man to help Matthias by giving him a rifle to hold onto. At the top of the escarpment, the rest of the men and Manfred could see the defenders rear a few hundred metres up ahead. Between them and the defenders lay a clump of trees.

  ‘Make for the trees, they’ll give us cover,’ whispered Manfred, before realising there was no point in doing so given the noise of shelling half a kilometre away. ‘You all smell by the way’. It was true, their uniforms were encrusted with foul-smelling filth from the field.

  ‘Good camouflage, sir,’ pointed out Willi.

  Sir.

  Willi had said ‘sir’. Manfred liked the sound of it and silently thanked Willi for his unintended praise. He and the other recruits began to crawl laterally at first and then forward. There was at least one hundred metres of open space before they reached the trees.

  The spirits of the group were raised when Matthias finally appeared at the top of the rockface and crawled forward to meet them.

  ‘Sorry for keeping you waiting. Have we captured them yet?’

  The group laughed and then started to progress towards the clump of trees. It took a little over minutes to cover the distance.

  ‘Nearly there,’ said Manfred. ‘Keep your heads down.’

  Once the clump of trees was directly between Manfred and the defence position, Manfred and the rest of the men stood up and sprinted for cover. All of them, around twenty, were now out in the open.

  A few metres from the trees, and still out in the open ground, around a dozen defenders stepped out from the clump and pointed their rifles at Manfred. The group was led by a familiar face.

  ‘Hello, my friend,’ said Gerhardt with a smile. ‘Going anywhere in particular?’

  Manfred’s face fell when he saw who it was. Just behind Gerhardt was Lothar. His grin, if anything, was even wider. Then, with a rueful smile, Manfred said, ‘How did you guess?’

  ‘Disobey orders? Catch the enemy unaware? I’d have done the same so I guessed that you would try to do the same. Oh, and give us your weapons and put your hands up.’

  At this point two officials arrived to confirm the capture. They led the recruits towards the front of the defence position. A few minutes later, the two groups of boys became visible to the raised platform from the front of the field where the exercise was taking place.

  -

  ‘That’s interesting, Drexler. Have you seen?’ asked the colonel.

  ‘No. What, Herr Colonel?’

  ‘Your young man has been caught. He’s a prisoner of war.’

  There was a ripple of noise from the officers as they began to observe the captives being led to the front of the defence to join the other prisoners of war.

  Drexler trained his field glasses on the defence position. After a few moments he said, ‘Interesting. I wonder who thought to defend the rear position.’

  ‘Indeed. This the first time that attack has failed,’ replied the colonel.

  Drexler continued to scan the two gruppes. His gaze fixed on Gerhardt and he let out a laugh.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ asked the colonel lowering his glasses and looking at Drexler.

  ‘You’re not going to believe this, sir.’

  -

  The boys returned to barracks stinking from the manure-encrusted uniforms. Everyone in the finished exercise was now aware of what had happened. Manfred’s group were the main body of official prisoners, although a few stragglers had also made it to the escarpment. It had been a bad day for the attackers. Almost all of the attackers had been designated ‘killed’. When they reached the platform where the senior officers were situated, there was a spontaneous burst of applause for the two groups from the other recruits. It lasted for a short period before the colonel raised his hand and demanded silence.

  ‘Gentlemen, this is your first experience of combat. I have no doubt you found it exciting, thrilling even. The fire in your bellies was real, the desire to crush the enemy so strong it was almost palpable,’ said the colonel. He surveyed the young men in silence for a few moments.

  ‘Yes, we have watched it all from our position here. We saw examples of great bravery from the attackers. At the same time, we saw stupidity on a grand scale. Too many of you gave your ‘lives’ cheaply. When real bullets and bombs are flying, yo
u will act differently. If you do not, you will die. It’s as simple as that.’

  The colonel turned to Drexler and asked if there was anything else. Drexler shook his head and they dismissed the recruits. All had to jog back to the training centre a few kilometres away.

  ‘You can put your hands down, Manfred,’ whispered Gerhardt. This brought a laugh from all those around, none more so than Manfred.

  The rain beat down on Manfred’s face as he jogged alongside Gerhardt. His mood veered wildly between pride in the reaction of all to their audacious tilt at the defenders and frustration at their defeat. His one consolation was that it was Gerhardt who had proved their undoing, but the failure rankled.

  ‘I can’t believe you guessed, Gerhardt. It’s killing me.’

  ‘I’m not sure we’ve heard the end of it, though. I disobeyed my orders to do it.’

  ‘Me, too.’

  They looked at each other and both erupted into laughter. Alongside them, the other participants looked at them in bewilderment.

  ‘Yes,’ continued Gerhardt when he had recovered his composure. ‘I left a detachment to defend our position and took a group of men to the clump myself. It was a strange feeling. We waited over an hour for you. We had no idea if you’d come.’

  ‘My God, I had no idea,’ replied Manfred.

  ‘Some of the guys were unhappy but Lothar was great. He threatened them.’

  Lothar, who was jogging ahead, turned around and grinned, ‘I was hoping to break some heads, but they came around to Gerhardt’s way of thinking.’

  ‘Probably didn’t want you to sit on them,’ said Gerhardt.

  ‘Splat,’ said Manfred with a grin.

  -

  They were all required to wash and get cleaned before their evening meal. The exercises had lasted all day which meant no one had eaten since the morning. All were ravenous. However, as Manfred and Gerhardt made their way to the dining hall, Haag came over towards them.

  ‘Don’t like the look of this,’ whispered Manfred,

  ‘Follow me,’ ordered Haag. It wasn’t a request and he didn’t look very happy.

  The two friends glanced at one another as they headed towards the colonel’s office. A sharp knock at the door and then Haag entered. The colonel sat behind a large oak desk. To his side was Drexler. This was the first time either had seen the office. It was much larger than Drexler’s office and it was more lavishly furnished. Aside from the standard portrait of the Fuhrer, there were a dozen framed photographs around the office with the colonel standing beside leading Nazi figures including Hitler himself.

  Both men looked serious. Manfred and Gerhardt felt a sense of foreboding. They had already been punished; a further infraction might spell the end of their army careers. The thought of returning home in shame seemed real at that moment.

  Manfred felt his breathing become constricted. The beat of his heart seemed to be louder than the clock on the wall. Finally, the colonel addressed them.

  ‘Do you know what these are?’ he asked.

  The two boys looked down.

  ‘Yes, Herr Colonel,’ they said in unison.

  ‘Tell me,’ ordered the Colonel.

  ‘Written orders, Herr Colonel.’

  ‘Correct. They are your written orders.’ He handed two small sheets to Manfred and Gerhardt. ‘Read them to me.’

  Manfred glanced at Gerhardt then began to read, ‘Support the main thrust of platoon C. Stay in reserve until C make breakthrough then pivot around to centre and support main army.’ He looked up when he had finished and then turned to Gerhardt.

  ‘Defend the forward redoubt,’ began Gerhardt, ‘Stop enemy advance. Defend to last man.’ He looked up at the two senior officers.

  The colonel spoke again.

  ‘Simple instructions, don’t you agree? Yet you both deliberately disobeyed your orders. To do so on a battlefield risks immediate court marshal and summary execution. In this training centre it means being expelled. I don’t need to tell you the kind of shame that this will bring on you and your families.’

  Manfred felt his heart sinking. He could barely keep his eyes on the colonel. By now he was finding it very difficult to breathe.

  ‘What shall we do with them?’ asked the colonel, turning to Drexler.

  ‘I would like to know what they have to say for themselves, Colonel, sir.’

  ‘Very well,’ came the reply.

  Manfred turned to Gerhardt, who raised his eyebrows. Taking a deep breath, Manfred began to speak.

  ‘We started to follow the orders but observed quickly that the frontal attack was against a heavily defended position. Without tank and air support it was, in fact, suicidal. The two tanks were, as you know, supporting the attack on the western perimeter. I felt that a better option for us was to seek a way around their flank and catch them by surprise with a rear attack. I ordered my men to march two kilometres east and make our way through the neighbouring field…’

  ‘Through shit, I believe,’ pointed out Drexler. Manfred looked at Drexler. Was there the ghost of a smile?

  ‘Through manure. We almost managed to reach the defenders base but were intercepted,’ finished Manfred.

  Both senior officers turned to Gerhardt.

  Gerhardt cleared his throat nervously. Then he glanced at Manfred and said, ‘I have known Brehme for many years. We played football against one another in Heidelberg.’

  ‘Is this relevant?’ asked Drexler irritably.

  ‘Yes, sir. Brehme was captain of a team we played often. I observed back then that he was a leader on the field and a smart tactician. He was able to change things around when they were not working. Which was usually the case. We were a much better team.’

  ‘Get on with it,’ ordered Drexler irritably.

  ‘I suspected that Brehme would quickly see the folly of a frontal attack. This seems like a relic from the last war. We’re not stupid Tommies,’ added Gerhardt.

  ‘For the last time,’ ordered Drexler in exasperation.

  ‘I knew Brehme would throw away the rule book. I took some men to survey our rear, believing it to be a potential weakness in our defence. By that I mean our rear was unguarded due to the assumption, a false one, that no one would be stupid enough to crawl through a neighbouring field, a couple of kilometres away from the battlefield, scale an escarpment and attack the rear position. I ordered my men to take a position in the trees that would give any attacker cover. However, the trees also gave us cover and a good view of any potential action from this angle.’

  ‘You’ve explained your actions; how can you possibly justify disobeying orders?’ asked Drexler.

  ‘I believe it was von Moltke, sir,’ said Manfred, ‘who observed that no plan survives contact with the enemy. We had to adapt to the situation on the battlefield. To do anything else would have been suicide. My duty was to achieve the objective, not obey orders that were ill-conceived and impossible to execute.’

  Manfred looked the two senior officers. He spoke with passion and almost a trace of anger. He knew what he’d done was right and if the military were too stupid to see this then Germany was in trouble.

  ‘Yet, you still failed.’

  ‘Yes sir,’ agreed Manfred, but to his surprise, no less than to that of the two men addressing him, he continued, ‘I failed because the person who stopped me also adapted his strategy to the battlefield situation rather than follow orders that were no longer relevant.’

  Gerhardt glanced at Manfred. His first thought was that Manfred had gone too far but then he realised that perhaps their best strategy was now attack. He picked up the theme and developed it further.

  ‘Brehme is correct, sir. In a battlefield situation, the army which has the flexibility to adapt to the situation will win. Far from having dull-witted order-takers marching like sheep to the slaughter…’

  ‘Kroos,’ shouted Drexler. ‘That is enough. Remember, you are addressing superior officers. Moderate your tone and language immediately.’

>   ‘Sorry, sir.’ Gerhardt realised his mistake immediately. Before him were two men who had fought in the last war, who had followed such orders, probably without questioning them. Worse, they had probably given such orders themselves. He felt his face burning in shame.

  ‘Enough,’ said the colonel. ‘I’ve heard quite enough of this. Both of you get out of the office. The section commander and I will discuss your fate,’

  Manfred and Gerhardt saluted, spun around and left the office. They made sure that they were around the corner before they began to speak.

  ‘Did we go too far?’ asked Gerhardt.

  ‘Not far enough, my friend,’ replied Manfred. As they walked across the parade ground towards the dining hall, Gerhardt stopped. He looked at the building they were walking towards. Manfred stopped too and looked at him.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing,’ said Gerhardt, looking around. They both stood and looked at the large buildings of the training centre and the parade ground. Then he added, ‘I’ll miss this.’

  ‘Me, too,’ replied Manfred with a smile. “We did the right thing, though. Whatever they may say.’

  ‘Yes. We did.’

  -

  ‘What do you think, Rolf?’ asked the colonel. ‘Boys like that are dangerous. We both know this.’

  ‘True, Klaus, but,’ said Drexler looking around the office, ‘before all of this, before you became a politician, I can remember a captain who didn’t always do as he was told. I remember one time at Cambrai....’

  ‘My goodness,’ replied the Colonel, ‘Those tanks. We’d never seen the like before.’

  ‘No, nor had our officers. There were no orders to defend against them. What orders could there be? We only had our wits, our initiative. We wouldn’t be here if we’d obeyed those orders, Klaus, and you know it.’

  The colonel looked up at Drexler and smiled. He lit a cigarette and inhaled slowly. ‘I know, Rolf. But it’s the same story isn’t it? If we punish them, then morale will plummet, if we promote them and they turn out to be wilful, disobedient and dangerously stupid it will come back to haunt us. If we do nothing, then everyone will take it as carte blanche to disobey orders. And don’t forget they’ve already been in trouble.’