The Shadow of War

by Jack Murray

  ‘True. But my God, Klaus, they were nearly two hours running around that parade ground.’

  ‘Extraordinary, I agree.’ The colonel laughed bitterly and shook his head, ‘Whatever we do my old friend, it’s wrong.’

  ‘Forget what you think you should do. What do you want to do, sir?’

  6

  Reinsehlen Camp, Lower Saxony, Germany: April 1941

  Silence.

  It was almost palpable, certainly pure and enough to put all the young recruits on edge. A barked order felt like a rock hurled into a calm pool. Several hundred recruits moved as one. The sound of their steps echoed like a clap of thunder in an Alpine valley. For the next few minutes the recruits went through their drill. When it had finished, they stood to attention. All eyes stared straight ahead yet everyone was burning to look at the man inspecting them.

  Sixteen weeks had passed since their arrival. This was their passing out parade. Pride glowed through the eyes of the men in the square like a flame in the night sky. The colonel, followed by Drexler walked along the ranks, accompanied by Erwin Rommel. He walked past Manfred. Rommel’s Visor Cap Schirmmütze was below the eyeline of the two young men. Sadly, Rommel didn’t stop but walked on. However, further up he stopped and spoke to Matthias.

  ‘Where do you hope to serve, young man?’ asked Rommel, looking up at the tall, bespectacled young man.

  ‘Panzerdivision, Herr General.’

  Rommel nodded and walked on with the other officers. The parade ended and the new members of the German army retired to their quarters to await instruction on where they would be posted.

  Manfred was joined by Gerhardt, Lothar, Matthias, Willi and Fred in the barracks. Each sat on a bed and they chatted for the hundredth time about the future.

  ‘I can’t believe you pitched for the Panzers, Matthias,’ said Gerhardt throwing his cap at his friend.

  ‘They’ll never find a tank big enough to fit you,’ added Manfred.

  Matthias looked serious and said straight-faced, ‘I think he recognised in me someone with the intelligence, the calmness under fire and the natural authority to command a tank.’

  The group burst out laughing at this, as did Matthias, who clearly did not believe it himself.

  ‘I’ll be pissed off if I’m not in the Panzerdivision, said Lothar.’

  ‘Will you go home?’ asked Fred archly.

  ‘Damn right I will,’ said Lothar glumly.

  ‘Maybe you’ll get Luftwaffe, Lothar, although I can’t imagine any plane getting off the ground with you on it,’ said Gerhardt laughing. Lothar leapt on his friend and started pummelling him in the stomach. This only made Gerhardt imitate the sound of an aeroplane crashing. The sound of the laughter suddenly stopped but the two boys continued wrestling. Lothar finally felt someone tapping his back with a stick.

  ‘What the h...?’ said Lothar turning sharply.

  Above him stood Haag. His face was twisted into a snarl. He glared at the two young men with an undisguised malevolence. Gerhardt and Lothar leapt up from the bed and stood to attention. The others had already done so.

  Haag pointed his stick under the chin of Gerhardt and said, ‘You.’ He then turned around and tapped Manfred on the chest, ‘And you. Come this way.’

  Manfred and Gerhardt looked at one another. Memories of their earlier misdemeanours returned, and they followed Haag to the office of the colonel. It felt like déjà vu. Haag knocked on the door and then entered.

  The surprise for both could not have been greater. Sitting in the place of the colonel was Rommel. Both men immediately saluted him. Rommel made a half-hearted salute back and then ushered them forward.

  ‘Names?’

  Brehme, Herr General.’

  ‘Kroos, Herr General.’

  Rommel studied them for a few moments. Then he spoke, ‘Have you any thoughts on where you would like to be posted?

  ‘Panzerdivision,’ said the two in unison. They glanced at one another and tried hard not to smile.

  ‘Popular today,’ said Rommel sardonically. ‘We’ll see about that. For the moment I have been advised by two men, whose views I trust, that your behaviour over the last sixteen weeks merits another direction.’

  Manfred felt his heart sink like a rock thrown into a pool. It was unfathomable to him how the sins of the last few weeks followed him around. Surely, he’d proved his worth by now.

  ‘You’ve both been recommended by these men to become Fahnenjunker. You know what this means?’

  It took a moment for the news to sink in. The colonel and Drexler had just endorsed their advancement to officer training.

  ‘Yes, Herr General,’ replied the two men, barely able to suppress their desire to let out a cheer.

  ‘Very good. You can return to your quarters. Thank you and congratulations,’ said Rommel.

  Manfred and Gerhardt turned and left the office followed by a very unhappy looking Haag. This was not helped by the wink to him, unseen by the senior officers, from Gerhardt as they left.

  The three men inside the room looked at one another. A few moments later they heard a wild cheer from the two men, who thought they were out of range.

  ‘They seem happy,’ commented Rommel with a raised eyebrow.

  ‘They should be, Erwin,’ replied the colonel.

  ‘How old are they, Klaus?’

  ‘Both nineteen, I believe,’ replied the Colonel.

  Rommel shook his head and said, almost to himself, ‘So young. Are you sure they’re ready, Klaus?’

  ‘You weren’t much older, Erwin, when you were leading a platoon.’

  ‘I didn’t know what I was doing,’ replied Rommel.

  ‘Yes, you did, sir.’

  This was Drexler. ‘I’m still alive because of this.’

  7

  Ladenburg (nr. Heidelberg): April 1941

  Peter Brehme looked at his son. The emotions he had held in check before could barely be contained now. His son. A junior officer, a Fahnenjunker. He stared at him in the doorway for a few moments and, tears brimming in his eyes he said, ‘Herr Fahnenjunker.’

  ‘Father,’ said Manfred, grinning. Moments later his father hugged him tightly and pulled him inside lest his emotional display be observed.

  ‘Let me look at you,’ said Brehme. What he saw overcame him. His son. Tall, strong and now a man. The grey-green uniform clung to wide shoulders and made him seem like a young god. There was something about him now: a hardness that was not there before, steeliness in his blue eyes. He was no longer a boy and Peter Brehme could not have felt prouder.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I would have come for you.’

  Manfred laughed and then his face became more sombre. ‘Mama?’ said Manfred. It was a neither a statement nor a question. It was an utterance of hope in expectation of an answer he did not want to hear. His father body seemed to sag in an instant. He looked crestfallen. Beaten.

  They walked through to the drawing room. The wireless was playing Parsifal. The song of the flower maidens. His mother was sitting by the fireside staring at the flames. She didn’t stir.

  ‘Renata,’ said Brehme softly.

  She looked up. Her eyes were empty. There was no recognition, no welcome, no happiness at seeing her son.

  ‘Manfred is back. He’s staying with us tonight. He’s an officer now.’

  ‘I’m training, Father,’ corrected Manfred trying to smile but desperately sad. He wanted to leave. There was nothing for him here. He felt the spirit and the happiness at being home slowly creep from his skin and dissolve into the void.

  His mother smiled and said absently, ‘Well done.’ She could have been congratulating a friend’s child.

  Manfred glanced at his father and saw the sadness in his eyes. Renata Brehme returned her gaze to the fireplace and the two men left her alone.

  ‘She just sits there all day. We barely speak now.’

  ‘The doctors?’

  ‘What do they know? It’s what happ
ened to your grandmother.’

  ‘But so early?’ replied Manfred, unable to take in the fact that a relatively young woman could slowly lose her mind to an old person’s disease.

  His father couldn’t speak; the desolation was clear. They walked into the dining room. Leni smiled a welcome and complimented Manfred on his uniform. They spoke for a while as Manfred told him of life at the two training camps. Life at Hannover had been more technical and academic than his initial training spell. Both he and Gerhardt had struggled initially but finally found their feet.

  ‘And now?’

  ‘I will go to Munster, Father,’ explained Manfred. ‘The Panzertruppenschule is a school for the Panzer Division. It will train me and other armour officers to operate Panzers. I will meet up with Gerhardt there. He wants to be in the Panzer division with me. I hope you meet him, Father. He’s a great friend. We will spend twelve weeks in basic training. This will help familiarise us with the workings of the Panzers, and also with the tactics to be used when commanding tanks in the field. When I graduate, Father, I will be promoted to Oberfähnrich and sent on field probation.’

  Manfred’s father beamed with joy as his son spoke. ‘My word, son, you will make us very proud. I wish…’ Brehme left the rest unsaid. Manfred nodded and they drank their coffee to the sound of the clock in the kitchen and Wagner in the drawing room.

  -

  Manfred walked through the town, stopping often to receive the congratulations of many townspeople; some he knew, many he did not. The town was now full of uniforms. Many were like, grey-green. However, there were a few black uniforms also. Manfred made his way towards the Mayer household. As he did so, he saw a familiar face in an unfamiliar uniform.

  ‘Erich,’ he shouted.

  Erich turned around and broke into a big grin. The two friends embraced and then stood back to look at one another.

  ‘You made Fahnenjunker, Manny. I’m not surprised, my friend.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Manfred looking at the black uniform of the Waffen-SS. Manfred was also unsurprised by this choice.

  ‘When did you join?’

  ‘Just before you left,’ explained Erich. ‘I couldn’t say anything. I want to become an officer like you, but I have to spend a year in the ranks. Then, if they think me good enough, they’ll send me to the Junkerschule near Munich.’

  ‘They’re bound to take you, Erich,’ laughed Manfred.

  ‘I hope so, but I am going to make sure there is no doubt,’ said Erich, a knowing look on his face.

  ‘How do you mean?’ asked Manfred.

  ‘I’ve been visiting your friend Mayer. He’s well connected. I’m paying much attention to his daughter. You remember Anja?’

  Manfred stopped walking and looked at Erich to see if he was joking. He wasn’t. Manfred felt empty as he looked at his friend, his rival. A surge of hatred rose up from his chest and then as quickly as it came it went as he realised his friend was looking at him strangely.

  ‘Is everything all right, Manny?’

  ‘Fine. I was just on my way to Herr Mayer’s house now.’

  Erich looked at him and seemed to realise what had happened. He turned and said coldly, ‘Me, too.’

  The two walked side by side to the door of Mayer’s house. Erich looked at Manfred and smiled suddenly, ‘Hey do you remember...?

  ‘Yes,’ said Manfred. But the memory of what they had done disgusted him now. He wanted to obliterate that night, and what had happened to Kahn, from his mind.

  Erich knocked on the door. It was answered by the family maid. She led the two friends into the drawing room. Mayer looked up and immediately set his newspaper down.

  ‘Manfred,’ exclaimed in delight, ‘This is a wonderful surprise.’ He regarded the young man for a moment and then congratulated him on his advancement. “I will call Anja. I’m sure she will be very happy to see you.’

  Manfred sensed Erich was not so delighted by this. The two of them sat down as Mayer went to find his daughter. Before they had chatted easily but now there was silence between them. Both looked straight ahead at the door.

  A few minutes later, the door opened. Anja burst in and looked excitedly at Manfred. She was clearly delighted by the visit.

  ‘Manfred, I can’t believe it.’

  Manfred rose and she was able to look at him in his uniform. Erich rose more slowly. He may as well have not been in the room. He realised this with a surge of anger.

  Manfred stared into the green eyes of Anja and realised he needed to say something, but his mind was spinning.

  ‘I’ve been promoted,’ he stammered at last.

  ‘Father told me,’ said Anja, oblivious to Manfred’s nervousness.

  ‘He’s done well,’ said Erich paternalistically. ‘I knew he would, Anja. I’m proud of him.’

  Manfred reddened slightly but not from embarrassment. It was anger. Erich was paying him a compliment and patronising him at the same time. At that moment he wanted to kill Erich. He wanted him out of the room so he could be alone with Anja.

  They all sat down, and Manfred had the chance to talk about his experience at the training camp. Erich listened, clearly unhappy at the turn of events. It seemed to Manfred that Anja was not interested in his friend. The thought that the two of them could have been sweethearts was more than he could bear. However, on this evidence, it did not seem to be the case. If anything, Anja’s reaction to him suggested Erich was unwelcome. In one sense, he was glad to know the situation now, even if he knew it would also cause him to feel jealous while he was away at training. But his friendship with Erich was now under threat.

  He and Erich tacitly agreed to leave the Mayer household at the same time. There had been no opportunity to speak to Anja alone, no chance to say what he was feeling or ask if he could write. This was frustrating and meant that Erich had a clear field until he returned from training. Manfred hoped his intuition was correct, that she was not interested in his friend. For a moment Manfred wondered if he could be so described now.

  He looked once more at Anja. Her green eyes had become moist with sadness; the fragile beauty ripped Manfred’s heart apart. How desperately he wanted to be with her. Anger welled up inside him. Anger towards his friend but, even more, towards the enemy that denied him what he so desperately wanted. He saw Erich looking at him. There was no mistaking the hint of triumph in his face.

  Erich and Manfred had met as friends, but their parting was colder. Both sensed a shadow lay between them. This saddened Manfred but not as much as he thought it might. He knew that they had been growing apart for some time. Manfred had no problem with the SS. But it seemed to him that Erich had chosen the easy option. Was Erich trying to avoid the front line? He doubted if even the SS could avoid fighting, but it did offer the possibility for his friend to operate closer to home. This would potentially keep him near Anja and away from the fighting to come.

  Manfred walked back towards his house. A light breeze blew in his face. He barely acknowledged the people saluting him. He couldn’t wait to be back behind closed doors. And then he thought of his mother. Just one night, he thought. I can manage that. He pulled the coat up around his face and strode forward as if heading in to battle unarmed.

  8

  Munster, Lower Saxony, April 1941

  The train broke through a clump of trees and crossed over a bridge. The River Oertze roared below the bridge. Gerhardt and Manfred looked with excitement through the window at the small town of Munster coming into view. The town had one of the largest army garrisons in the country. This one was primarily dedicated to the Panzertruppenschule I, the tank training school. It would be their home for the next dozen weeks as the army educated them about the workings of a Panzer, and how to command tanks in the field.

  Tanks were dotted around the field in front of the large white buildings. Manfred and Gerhardt’s eyes were glued to these fearsome machines driving at speed across the countryside. They were dark in colour, which made them seem almost demonic. Soon t
hey would receive their camouflage colours.

  ‘My God imagine facing those monsters,’ exclaimed Manfred.

  ‘I’m glad we’re German,’ replied Gerhardt laughing. ‘I have never seen anything like them.’

  The train pulled into the station and the two friends, along with other Fahnenjunkers, were met at the entrance by an elderly man wearing a uniform. Manfred glanced at Gerhardt and raised his eyebrows. The two friends smiled, and they followed the elderly man. Soon the group of twenty were on the back of the army truck and en route to the training camp.

  -

  Sergeant Krauss looked at the recruits. There was a faint smile on his lips. He turned to the tank beside him and patted the armour at the front.

  ‘Tell me,’ he asked, ‘what do you feel when you look at this vehicle?’

  A few of the recruits called out various thoughts: pride, awe, excitement. Manfred listened to them and then he said quietly, ‘Fear.’

  Krauss looked at the group and said, ‘Who said that?’ Manfred held his hand up. ‘Step forward so I can see you.’ Manfred did as he was ordered. Krauss walked up to him. ‘Brehme, Sergeant Krauss.’ He was standing to attention, eyes directly ahead.

  ‘At ease,’ said Krauss. He looked away from Manfred and to the rest of the group. Without saying anything else he walked along the line and back.

  ‘Fear, he said, and he’s right; the killing power of a tank is immense. Ours and theirs. Look at this Panzer Mark III. Not even our latest model. You’re lucky. We’ve had a few arrive in Munster. This supersedes Panzers One and Two. Some of our boys are using Czech tanks. These aren’t much better than machine guns on wheels. This will be your tank until the Mark IV is ready. You will get to know this tank. It will become your brother, your sister, your lover. It will become part of you.’

  He hit the armour again with his stick. It made the sound of a dull clang rather than the light tinny sound of thin metal.