Children of the Promise

by Dean Hughes

  “He said there might be fifty Germans down there,” Campbell said.

  “Something like that. Let’s talk here for a minute, and then we’ll go take a look before we decide exactly how we’re going to handle the situation.”

  Alex filled in a few more details for everyone, and then he said, “We’ve got to hurry. You can hear those big 105s. They’re pounding the heck out of our boys on the beach. I don’t want to sound like a high school coach, but we’ve got to stop them. Take your weapons and all your ammo, and any grenades you have. Leave everything else here. Fill the pockets on your jump jackets, but don’t take any packs. You need to move fast.”

  As the men began to shed their extra gear, Alex realized that he needed demolition kits. Some of the men were carrying them, so he had Nunez throw four of them in a musette bag and take it along.

  Alex looked at his watch. It was 0830. He split the squad into two patrols, and then he said, “Let’s go. Let’s get to that rock fence down at the bottom of this field, and from there we’ll cover for each other as we alternate our moves.”

  Duncan laughed. “Listen to the Deacon,” he said. “He thinks he’s a soldier. He wants to give those Krauts ‘heck.’”

  Alex didn’t respond. He was already striding out, and he was studying the countryside, trying to get a sense of the land in front of them. There was no problem locating the guns, with the tremendous noise they were making, but Alex wasn’t sure how to make the approach. He knew he had to take one gun at a time and hope to catch the Germans by surprise on the first one, but he wasn’t sure he could get his men close enough to knock out the gun without getting everyone shot up.

  After Alex and his men crossed the rock fence, they moved ahead in quick, leapfrogging surges, but they picked up no enemy contact, so Alex led the men around the big field in front of the guns, and then he followed a hedgerow until he found an opening that gave him a view of the emplacements. He lay on his stomach and surveyed the area. He could see helmets moving along the trenches on both sides of the nearest cannon—the one farthest to the south. Men were probably carrying ammunition to the guns.

  The field in front of the gun was anything but rectangular, with several different angles, and all of it was bordered with big hedges. The first gun was at the top of the field, near the corner. It was dug in under the long hedge that formed the western edge—the top—of the field, and it was maybe forty meters from the hedge that formed the south end. A little ravine extended from the bottom of the field, like a finger, and pointed at the trench that ran between the first and second guns. The ravine was full of trees and low growth.

  Alex crawled away from the opening and got behind the hedge with the other men. “Okay,” he said. “Duncan and Rizzardi, I want you to move up along this southside hedge, on the outside. Find a place where you can work your way into the hedge and aim your gun at that nearest cannon. Don’t give your position away until you start shooting, but once you start, you’ve got to keep laying down cover fire so some of us can move in closer.”

  “Gotcha,” Duncan said. He was looking serious now. And Rizzardi was gripping his ammo belts as though he needed something to hang onto. Each time one of the big guns fired, the ground vibrated under them. The sound was terrifying.

  “Petersen, Handley, get into that little valley and work your way up through the trees toward the guns until you find a position where you can fire at that same cannon. You can move pretty fast through those trees without being seen, but once you get close, be careful. Don’t let the Germans see you.”

  Petersen and Handley both nodded, but neither one had any color in his face. They had to know what Alex knew: firing on a whole platoon was like hitting a hornet’s nest with a stick.

  “Cox, Nunez, and Campbell, head up the outside of this south hedge with Duncan and Rizzardi. Go on past them and find a spot where you can get through. Once the cover fire starts, I want you to crawl toward the trench, south of the gun. When you get close enough, throw in some grenades, and then rush the trench. If you can get in, keep throwing grenades down the trench, and charge the gun.”

  “Won’t we be in the cross fire when we’re out there in the field?” Nunez asked.

  “Not if you stay above the machine gun, to the west. Stay down, but try to move in as fast as you can. If the Germans are trying to deal with those machine guns, they won’t see you.”

  Alex was not sure about that, actually, but it was the only approach that made sense to him. “One thing that will help you,” he said, “is that we’re going to draw the Germans’ attention in all directions—make them think we have more people than we do. Colby and Eschler, I want you to move all the way up the south hedge and around the west side, so you’re behind the gun. When the shooting starts, lay down a barrage of small-arms fire through the hedge. Wilson, Healy, and Cooper, you work your way up through that ravine with Handley and Petersen. Get to a spot where you can see, and fire your rifles. Bentley and I are going to break through the hedge on the south and make a run to the middle of the field. I’m going to put down some fire with my Thompson while Cox and Nunez and Campbell move in. As soon as they throw some grenades in the trench, Curtis and I will bust up the middle. We’ll try to throw some grenades directly into that emplacement.”

  “How do we know when to start firing?” Duncan asked.

  “You men with the machine guns will take the longest to get ready. But you’ll be able to see each other. When you’re ready, signal to each other, and then both of you open up. The rest of us will go into action at the same time. Once we get that first gun, we’ll be able to use the trenches to get to the others. At that point, I want Duncan and Rizzardi to pull out of the hedge and swing around behind the second gun, with Colby and Eschler. Petersen and Handley, cross that little ravine and fire from the north side of it at the second gun. The same with Wilson, Healy, and Cooper. The rest of us will make a run down the trench.”

  “How do we know when to start firing at the second gun?” Petersen asked.

  “We’ll give you time to get in place. But then wait until we toss a grenade down the trench. Keep some steady bursts of fire going, but don’t shoot up all your ammo. If we get the second gun, move to the north if you have to, or just fire from where you are, but we need cover fire for each gun.”

  Alex sounded confident, and the men seemed to accept the plan, but nothing was more clear than that they needed four times as many men to pull this off. Alex felt a shaky kind of apprehension more than fear, and he could see the same tension in everyone else. “Look, men,” Alex said, “don’t take chances. Don’t get yourselves killed. Just play it smart, and we can run these troops off. They’re going to think a whole battalion is after them.”

  “Let’s do it,” Duncan said.

  And so the men deployed to their positions. Alex and Curtis were able to find a spot where they could crawl into the hedge. But they didn’t move all the way through. They lay on their chests and waited.

  “It’s a good plan,” Curtis whispered. “It’s the same thing Summers would have come up with.”

  Alex had nothing to say about that. He didn’t know. Instead, he said, “I’m going to run hard and get down. Follow me, but stay back some. We don’t want to give them a single target to shoot at. If one of us takes a hit, the other one still needs to get to that emplacement with some grenades. Everything hinges on that.”

  “All right. Good luck.”

  “God bless you, Curtis.”

  “Yeah. That’s what I meant too.”

  And then, finally, the MG fire began popping from both sides of the field. Alex crawled through the hedge and then jumped up and ran hard. He hit the ground in the field, in front of the gun in deep grass, and he started firing toward the emplacement. Bullets were flying, but he heard nothing coming his way. The machine guns still had the Germans’ attention.

  Alex could hear Curtis, not far off, firing his M-1, and he glanced to see his three men crawling toward the trench, exactly a
s he had told them to do.

  Everything happened fast. In only a few seconds, grenades began to explode in the trench, and suddenly Alex was up and running, firing his Thompson. Just as he dropped on his chest, a hail of bullets pelted into the ground in front of him. He fired another burst with his machine gun, then rolled onto his side, grabbed a grenade from his belt, and pulled the pin. He looked up then and tossed the grenade into the gun position. Two, then three grenades went off almost together, and then another followed. Alex knew that Curtis had gotten one in, and so had the men who were in the trench.

  Then everything fell quiet. All the big 105s had stopped. Alex waited a few seconds, and then he jumped up and charged—but nothing was happening. He ran to the dug-out area around the gun and stopped at the edge.

  Two German soldiers were down on their faces. At that moment Cox charged past them, stopped, and like a baseball catcher, tossed a grenade down the trench toward the second gun. At the same moment, Alex saw three Germans take off across the field. They had apparently been in foxholes out on the surface. Alex spun and fired with his Tommy gun. Two of the men went down immediately. Curtis shot the other one in the back with his M-1.

  Cox and Nunez were still charging down the trench, throwing grenades. Campbell stopped to check the Germans. Alex jumped down by the big gun, next to Campbell. Just then Curtis grunted, and Alex looked up as he tumbled into the emplacement. He stared up at Alex, looking shocked. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Where are you hit?”

  “In the butt.”

  Alex rolled him over and ripped his pants open with his knife. “Who’s got sulfa powder?” he shouted.

  “I do,” Campbell said.

  “Get some on that wound, and get the bleeding stopped. We’ve got to move into position to take this next gun.”

  Alex looked out from the trench to see whether Handley and Petersen had moved to their next position. But when he raised his head, a bullet flew past him and ricocheted off the barrel of the big gun.

  “Cox, Nunez,” Alex barked, “let’s give those guys with the machine guns about two minutes to get into place. Get your weapons loaded and your grenades ready. Campbell, give me your grenades. You stay here and take care of Bentley.”

  Alex was still trying to catch his breath, but his chest seemed locked. He took another look at his watch, waited, looked again, and could hardly stand the delay. “All right, let’s go,” he finally said.

  The trench ahead was not a straight shot to the next gun. It had been dug in a zigzagging line. Alex charged to the first turn, leaned his back against the trench wall, pulled the pin on a grenade, and tossed the weapon underhand around the corner. He listened for the explosion and then waited a second or two before he jumped around the corner and fired a burst of rounds. Two Germans were well down the trench, beyond the force of the grenade. They were on their knees setting up a machine gun. Alex kept firing. One of the Germans took three or four hits in the chest. The other tried to spin away but caught a bullet in the side of the head.

  Alex charged them, with his two partners right behind. He checked to make sure the Germans were down for good, and then he ran to the next bend in the trench and took a quick glance around it. No one was there, so he ran hard to the next turn. He knew he must be close to the second gun now. He stopped and let the other men catch up with him. “Get your grenades ready,” he said. He got another one out, pulled the pin, and then hurled it around the corner. When he jumped around the turn this time, he could see three German soldiers down in the trench, knocked out by the grenade. Two more soldiers were farther back, close to the gun. They had hit the dirt when the grenade had gone off, but now they were getting up, raising their weapons. Alex fired, and then Cox broke past Alex in the trench, tossed his grenade, and dropped to the ground.

  Debris flew in all directions, but as soon as the cloud of dirt settled, Cox charged forward with Alex and Nunez behind. One of the Germans in the trench moved, and Cox shot him. The two by the gun were dead, but the crew and any others who had been there had retreated down the trench toward the third gun.

  “All right. Hold up a second,” Alex said. “We’ve got to take this next one while we’ve got them on the run, but we need to let the machine guns move again. A lot of Germans have fallen back. They might be getting ready to take us on this time.”

  Alex and Cox and Nunez were hunched near the gun, keeping their heads down, but then Cox turned and stood up straight, apparently to look across the field. Just as his head raised up, a burst of bullets from a machine gun struck him in the face. His head seemed to explode, and he was thrown backward. He landed across one of the Germans, on the ground. Alex knelt down next to him, but Cox’s face was gone.

  Alex spun away and leaned against the gun. He took a long breath and tried to get control. Just then he heard a shout from the trench. “No make dead!”

  Alex stepped under the gun barrel and brought his Thompson up. Six Germans were coming toward the gun with their arms up.

  “What are we going to do with them?” Nunez said.

  Alex was thinking the same thing, but he was also thinking that the third gun might not be so hard to take after all. The Germans must be thinking they were about to be overrun. If they had any idea how few men he had—just twelve now—they would be charging, not giving up.

  Alex told the Germans, “Come forward.” And then in German, “Drop any weapons you have. Knives. Grenades.”

  “We have nussing,” one of them said.

  Alex was thinking he couldn’t guard them without giving up another soldier, and he needed everyone. “Nunez,” he said, “run and get Campbell. He should be able to leave Bentley now.”

  Nunez hustled away, crouching as he ran down the trench. Alex aimed his machine gun at the soldiers, who were all staring at him. He wondered whether they were surprised that they were facing only one man. But he didn’t speak to them. He wasn’t going to do that again.

  In just a few seconds Nunez was back. “Hey, we’ve got reinforcements,” he said.

  “How many?”

  “Four.”

  “All right. Send them to me.”

  “They’re coming.”

  “Good. But we’ve got to disable the two guns we’ve taken before we get a counterattack and lose them. Where are those demolition kits?”

  “Back at the hedge, where I started.”

  “All right. Let’s do this. Take these prisoners back to the first gun. Let Campbell and one of the reinforcements guard them. Then go get those demolition kits.”

  Nunez nodded, and then he pointed his M-1 at the Germans and gestured for them to move on down the trench. He followed behind them. Alex thought of Cox again, and he took another look at him. The horror registered in his mind, but he refused to let it sink into his emotions this time. He knelt and pulled his friend off the dead German and stretched him out next to the gun.

  The new guys soon showed up, walking toward Alex in the trench, single file. “Are you Sergeant Thomas?” the first man asked. He was an innocent-looking kid, just a private, hardly appearing old enough to be in on something like this.

  “Yeah. Keep your heads down. Listen, we’ve taken two guns, but we’ve got two to go. Are you men ready to make a charge at this next one?”

  The private nodded. “Sure. That’s what we came for.”

  “All right. We’ve got to wait for Nunez to get back here so we can disable the guns we’ve taken. But when we move again, I’ll lead out. We’ve got some of our men outside, and they’ll be firing into the emplacement, but we’ve got to get down that trench and fill the gun position with grenades.”

  “All right,” one of the men said. But they all looked clean. Alex knew they hadn’t seen any action. He saw the young private look at Cox on the ground. When the boy looked back at Alex, his eyes were wide open, fixed.

  When Nunez got back, he and Alex dropped a demolition kit into the second gun, got back, and then set it off with a German “
potato masher” grenade. The breech of the gun blew out like a half peeled banana.

  “Go back and take care of the other one,” he told Nunez. “This new group is going with me to take number three.”

  Nunez nodded.

  “How’s Bentley?”

  “Okay, I think. He’s just worried that he let us down.”

  The thought crossed Alex’s mind that Curtis was lucky; he would be getting out of here alive.

  “Here we go,” Alex told the new men. Once again he charged down the trench, checked two turns without seeing anyone, and then stopped at the third one and thrust a grenade around the corner. He waited about three seconds and then said, “Okay. Let’s go.” As he came around the corner, he saw movement. He fired his machine gun as he dropped onto his knees and then his elbows. Out of the dust, down the trench, he saw muzzle fire from several weapons. Alex grabbed for another grenade, pulled the pin, and threw it, but just before it went off, one of the soldiers behind him gasped and then dropped onto Alex’s back. A series of three blasts went off as more grenades dropped into the emplacement. The dust was thick in the trench, but as soon as debris stopped flying, Alex rolled the man off his back and leaped up. He ran to the gun and this time found three Germans down. The others had retreated again.

  Alex turned and looked back up the trench. “How bad is he hit?” he called.

  But the men didn’t answer. Alex walked back and saw that the young private was lying on his back, with his neck and chest ripped open. He was gagging, and the man next to him was trying to get his first-aid kit free from his belt, in back. But in a few more seconds the boy choked hard and then stopped breathing.

  Alex felt responsible. He didn’t say it, didn’t let himself think it long, but he was sure it was his fault, somehow. The kid on his knees looked up at Alex; he was blinking, scared, sick.

  “What was his name?” Alex asked.