by William Lee
“Still, you went a little too far from the foxhole to get it; you could have been shot by a German sniper,” Dale said.
“Had I not risked it, we would not have this night vision scope,” Tom argued.
“Maybe they will give you the medal of honor,” Matthews said sarcastically.
“If we get off this mountain, it will be because I found the pass,” Tom remarked as he peered through the night vision scope on the top of the rifle. The fallen German had three magazines of 30 rounds to go with the rifle. They were a 7.92x33 round, a bit light for a sniper rifle, but highly effective at 200 meters.
“See anything?” Adam asked.
“No, just rocks and trees. It’s all steep terrain. Maybe we should keep moving,” Tom suggested.
The squad traveled slowly along the wooded ridge, carefully keeping an eye out for traps and land mines. Another 200 yards, and they stopped again. From behind a tree, Tom surveyed the steep cliffs ahead, looking for a good place for 270 men to descend a thousand feet to the valley. All he could see was steep cliffs and jagged rocks. That many men attempting to climb down at once would be easy targets for German snipers.
“Just going by what we have seen so far, I don’t think we are going to find a passage to the valley,” Tom complained.
“We’re not giving up that easily,” Dale whispered, “let’s keep going.” Dale had every intention of getting off this mountain alive; returning to the battalion without a solution was not an option.
“Wait,” Tom hissed, grabbing Dale’s shoulder and pulling him down. Tom handed the German StG44 to Dale. “Look there.”
Dale and the others lay on their bellies, weapons pointed into the dark. Dale stared through the Vampire scope. The gun was heavy and awkward; the scope was large and made the rifle difficult to wield, especially from lying on the ground. He repositioned himself to lean against a tree so he could support the weapon by propping his elbow against his knee. At first, he couldn’t see anything. It was out of focus. After giving it a minute to focus, trees, bushes, and rocks all came into view. He scanned the length of the steep cliff. He felt a gentle pushing on the barrel of the gun; it was Tom pointing the barrel in the direction of the Germans.
One, two, three, four Germans creeping along the ridge, mirroring their own actions. Except these Germans were heading toward them and the American battalion.
“I see four men. Two hundred yards out. They’re heading in this direction,” Dale whispered.
“If we had not stopped and used the night vision, we could have bumped into them in the dark,” Adam said, as he lifted his BAR into position, as if he could see them.
“Easy does it.” Dale waived at Adam to put the gun down. “We need to avoid these Krauts. They are not the mission.”
“The mission is a failure. We can’t go around them and we have not seen any evidence of a pass to the valley,” Tom objected.
“We can’t pass them, but they can pass us. Then we can continue,” Steve whispered from behind. “Or we could light’em up with this bad boy,” he said patting his M-9 bazooka.
Dale could almost see the gleam in Steve’s eyes as he said ‘light’em up.’
“No. Move off the ridge, twenty-five meters. Take cover; they won’t see us as they pass,” Dale ordered.
The squad slowly moved out of the Germans’ projected path and took cover in the thick underbrush. The other two groups, 50 and 100 yards back, took cover as well.
Dale was settled in behind a fallen tree as the Germans were passing between him and the ridge. Three Germans materialized out of the darkness 20 meters to his left. They were traveling north to south along the ridge, heading toward the Battalion’s encampment. Then, another five Germans materialized from the foggy darkness. The Germans were moving almost silently through the night, but there was not just eight of them, they kept coming, more and more.
Dale wondered if the listening post would even detect them. There were four listening posts reporting back to the battalion, but, at night and from this direction, Dale figured there may be no warning from the post.
Tom huddled up real close to Dale and whispered in a concerned voice, “Looks like every third one has a night scope. They could see us. More importantly, they can see the Battalion.”
“Their night scopes cancel out the advantage our troops have by being dug in,” Dale warned.
“Our troops will be firing blindly into the night while the Krauts pick ‘em off,” Adam said, shaking his head in concern.
“What can we do?” Tom asked.
“How many are there?” Dale asked Tom.
“Eighty, maybe 90. Looks like a couple dozen have night vision,” Tom shrugged, as he assessed the enemy through the Vampire scope.
“Twelve against 90; we would just slow them down. It would alert the Battalion, and at least they would not get hit by a surprise attack,” Dale said.
“Now look whose gunning for the medal of honor,” Steve said.
“What if we circled in behind them and followed them back to camp? The last thing they would be expecting is an attack from behind,” Dale proposed.
“While they are busy attacking the battalion, we will hit them from the rear. They will never expect it; hell, may not even realize from where they are being shot,” Adam said with a smile creeping across his face.
“I may even get me one of those fancy German storm rifles, Vampire scope and all,” Steve said.
As the last group of Germans were slowly creeping past, a loud explosion was heard about 50 yards back down the trail. A group of Germans, not 15 yards away, dropped to their knees and took cover behind some trees. They were not looking at the four men. They were staring down the trail to where the explosion was heard.
“What in the hell was that?” Muttered Adam, who was now lying on his stomach, beside Dale.
“Sounds like someone stepped on a land mine,” Steve replied.
“I hope it’s not one of ours,” Adam said.
Just then, the sound of numerous machine guns firing broke the quiet night air. Dale could see sporadic muzzle flashes down the trail, near the place where he assumed the rest of his squad would be hiding.
“Shit. Must have been one of ours,” Dale fretted. There was no sense in whispering now. The machine gun fire would prevent the Germans from hearing him.
“Look, there are six Krauts directly in front of us. We could take them out before they even knew what hit them,” said Adam as he switched the safety off his BAR.
“Let’s do it,” said Tom as he lined up his newly acquired storm rifle on the German in the foremost position.
“Okay, our cover is blown. New mission is to support the battalion against this night raid, but hold your fire. Tom, you take those four Krauts,” Dale said pointing to the ones furthest up the trail.
“Steve, you take the ones heading up the rear. Adam and I will deal with the ones in the middle, got it?”
“Got it,” they all agreed.
Dale gave the hand signal and they stood from their crouching positions and opened fire on the unsuspecting Germans.
Five of the 10 Germans fell immediately. The remaining five took cover by diving behind trees, as their friends lie on the ground, bleeding to death. In a split second, the Germans realized where the Americans were and returned fire.
Tom, kneeling behind a large tree, took aim through the Vampire scope at the closest German, who apparently thought he was hidden behind a tree. The German was wrong. Tom’s shot caught him just under the chin, and he fell back, grabbing at his neck, trying to stop the flow of blood.
At this point, the Germans must have realized the Americans had at least one-night scope, as they began to fall back. Dale surmised that his men had just saved the Battalion from a bloody night raid, as 20 more Germans materialized out of the night. The German reinforcements were still seventy-five yards up the trail, but they were moving fast. The Germans now severely outnumber the squad and were beginning to form a crescent shaped semi-
circle around them.
“We got to get out of here fast before they completely surround us,” Adam yelled at Dale, as he slid another boxy magazine into his BAR.
“We have to run, now,” shouted Tom, over the roar of automatic gun fire.
“Retreat!” Dale shouted. The four turned and ran through the forest trying to escape the Germans. Dale could hear bullets whiz by his head and slam into the trees around him. They were running up the ridge, toward the trail with the steep cliffs at their backs, when Dale, in the lead, stepped into - nothing.
Dale was shocked, at first. Why had his foot not found land? Then, he was falling. He heard Adam behind him.
“Whoa,” Adam called out, as he stumbled over the edge of the pit into the total darkness. Dale had no warning of the gaping hole and went in face first. Adam, a fraction of a second behind him, saw the hole but was unable to stop.
In the split-second Dale had while falling, he wondered if there were spikes at the bottom of the hole. Would he be impaled and left to bleed to death in this cold, dark place, or would a merciful German dispatch him quickly with a bullet to the brain? Dale Matthews did not have long to ponder his fate; he slammed into the ground face first with a dull thud.
A fraction of a second later, Adam came tumbling down and partially landed on him. Well, at least there were no spikes. But instead of the dirt, mud, and roots as he was expecting, his face was pressed against cold, hard concrete.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Adam rolled off Dale, “Are you alright?”
“I think so,” Dale coughed out, as he turned over and pulled himself up.
His eyes started to adjust to the darkness into which they had just fallen. Only, it wasn’t a hole; it was a tunnel. A long concrete tunnel with no electric lighting.
“You two alright down there?” Tom’s voice called down. Dale could see that Tom was about seven feet above him, peering through what appeared to be a small section of the tunnel that had sustained a direct artillery impact. Normally, a direct hit would not have collapsed a tunnel, but Dale figured it may have been due to a bad batch of concrete.
“Yeah, we’re okay. Do the Germans know your position?” Dale asked.
“Negative. They are still 30 yards back in the brush, but approaching quickly.”
“Get down here; we can hideout down here,” Dale said.
Dale and Adam helped Tom and Steve descend into the tunnel. The hole Matthews had stepped through was only about four feet in diameter. In the dark, it would be hard to spot. If he had not fallen into the hole, they could have run past the opening without having seen it.
All four men were standing in the drafty tunnel, looking up into the dreary night. Surprisingly, the tunnel was slightly warm and dry. They positioned themselves away from the opening at the top of the tunnel and waited, hoping that the Germans would not see them. The German boots made crunching sounds in the snow above, as they canvassed the area, seemingly unaware of the tunnel below. The four men were safe, for the moment.
“Let’s take five,” Dale said. The men leaned up against the concrete walls that arched up toward the curved ceiling. All four men checked their magazines and did a bullet count.
“I bet the Krauts called off the night raid after that,” Adam said.
“Assuming the other two groups engaged, I’m sure they were not expecting to be attacked on that ridge, that far away from the Battalion,” Dale concluded.
“They lost the advantage of surprise. The Battalion was sure to have heard the shots. After that, the Krauts would assume we notified the battalion of their location,” Tom added.
“So, what now?” asked Adam.
“Mission failed. We can’t find a way off this ridge, now that the Nazis have spotted us. We focus on the second objective,” Dale said, as he slid a magazine full of .45 caliber rounds into his Thompson machine gun until he heard a metallic click.
“What’s the second objective?” asked Tom.
“You heard the lieutenant. We need to discover weaknesses in the German position. Something the battalion can exploit,” Dale replied.
“How are we going to do that? While in this hole?”
“It’s not a hole; it’s a tunnel. And we are going to follow it,” Dale said.
“What? Why? We know where it leads. It leads directly into an army full of pissed off Nazis!” Steve exclaimed.
“That’s what we assume, but we won’t know for sure until we check it out. This could be a way off the mountain” Dale explained.
Adam stood to his feet, brought the automatic rifle to his hip and said, “Let’s do it.”
The men turned on their newly issued military flashlights. The red lenses were a useful feature that, hopefully, would not alert the Nazis of their presence.
“Flashlights pointed to the ground,” Dale whispered. They followed the winding, dark tunnel for about 300 yards until they could see a glimmer of light in the distance.
“Flashlights off,” Dale hissed. The four men cautiously approached the light. The air grew colder as the light grew brighter. The tunnel was about four feet wide and seven feet high. As they approached the mouth of the tunnel they could hear voices.
The encroaching light was not like familiar electric bulbs, nor was it sun light. No, the flickering on the tunnel walls was dim, like flames dancing in the dark. Matthews slowly approached the end of the tunnel. He could see the tunnel open into a large space.
Six feet from the tunnel entrance, there were rows of large wooden boxes stacked three and four high, which obscured his view of the rest of the chamber. He waived his hand, indicating to Adam that he was advancing forward.
“What now?” Adam asked.
“I’m going to move up to those wooden crates and see if I can peek around them,” Dale whispered.
Matthews signaled to the others to stay behind while he ran forward to the first row of stacked crates. Down on one knee, he peered around the box and further into cave-like chamber. There were crates and equipment placed all around the perimeter of the chamber, leaving the center open. On the other side of the chamber stood what appeared to be a large machine, not like one he had ever seen before. It was about 40 feet across and 20 feet tall. It was made of a gray metal, steel perhaps. It was disc shaped, taller and wider in the middle and tapered to the edges. At first, he thought it might be a new German tank, but then he realized it had no wheels or tracks. It wasn’t a plane because it had no wings. It was sitting on two concrete pillars that held it up in the same way a dry dock would hold up a ship. The pillars were spaced twenty feet apart, and there appeared to be a hatch open at the bottom of the machine where a ladder extended down toward the chamber’s cold stone floor.
Between the strange machine and the stacked crates Dale was hiding behind, were 50 chairs, all lined up in rows facing the machine. Standing between the chairs and the machine was an elevated wooden platform from where, presumably, a speaker would stand and address the audience. On either side of the rows of chairs, large Nazi flags were hanging from metal scaffolding.
Something about the scene was off, not just the unidentifiable machine and the make-shift pulpit. No, it was stranger than that. On the stage were six absurdly large chairs, suitable for giants. The six chairs were lined up along the back of the stage, facing the 50 chairs.
On the stage, in front of the six chairs was a six-foot-long, wooden table. Was it an alter? The table had a white marble top. Both alter and chairs were lavishly carved with symbols that Dale did not recognize. The entire concrete floor and wooden platform were covered with a red carpet that extended behind the platform and to the hatch on the bottom side of the disc-like machine. Atop the platform, were two shallow boxes of dirt.
Unlike the underground passage, the large chamber was lit by a combination of burning fire barrels, torches, and electric lights powered by the hum of local generators. “Why use fire-barrels if you have electricity?” Dale wondered. He knew that he had stumbled onto something important, but what
was it?
Glancing around the room, he saw he was alone; then he looked up and noticed the chamber’s ceiling. As expected, it was a concrete dome. Except, above the machine, there was an opening to the night sky. While the machine was about 40 feet in diameter, the circular hole in the chamber’s ceiling was about 50 feet in diameter. Dale realized that the Nazis planned to fly the machine through the hole in the ceiling.
Knowing that he was well-concealed from view, he walked back to the tunnel and told the others what he had found.
“You said the room is not guarded; we can just steal the machine and fly away,” Steve blurted out.
“None of us have been trained to fly our own planes. How are we going to fly that thing, whatever it is?” Adam asked.
“Adam is right, that’s not an option,” Dale insisted.
“We could destroy it with the stovepipe, we got six rockets,” Steve said.
“Maybe, but we know the German’s armor can stand up to the M-9,” Dale objected.
“Their tanks can stand up to it. This is a flying machine. It can’t be as heavy as a Panzer,” Steve said, “I bet we can light her up from here.”
“Then what?” Adam demanded.
“Adam is right, what then? Then the Krauts know where we are, and we may not even destroy the flying machine. I say we find good cover and see what happens,” Dale said.
Suddenly, they heard a blood curdling scream. It was a woman’s scream. Dale ran back to the box and peeked around the corner. Two hundred yards away, near the platform, he could see two guards carrying a woman towards the alter. Even from this distance Dale could tell it was a young woman. She could not be more than 25 years old. She was beautiful and wearing a flowing, ceremonial-looking, nearly see-through, white dress. She was struggling with the two Nazi soldiers, but they just kept dragging her towards the stage. Once on the stage, one of the soldiers held her still, while the other chained her to the platform as she screamed. The one that had been holding, released her, smacked her across the face and spat some German words at her. Dale did not understand what the German said, but he assumed it was a threat, because she stopped screaming. The two guards walked away laughing, then disappeared into a corridor behind the flying machine. The woman was alone on the stage, crying. Dale guessed she was French but could not be sure.
