The Allied soldiers crossed the road and rallied outside the church where cover appeared plentiful. Before the officers arrived the men were already preparing to defend the perimeter. The walls provided ample cover and a convenient place to rest firearms. Private Wilks, hearing the groans from the wounded Martinez went over to see if he could help.
“Anything I can get you?”
The American soldier responded with a moan.
“It’s my leg, it’s starting to hurt like a real bitch!”
Wilks bent down and sniffed the wound; he had to force himself not to turn away from the stink. This was just what he had been taught back in England, the smell of decay. It was odd though; he didn’t remember being told gangrene would kick in so fast with a wound. Looking in his pack he found some morphine and gave the American the quick injection he needed to take the edge off.
“That’ll help for a bit, I’ll get the Lieutenant to have a closer look when he gets here.” Martinez acknowledged with a thumbs up.
Chard and Archer reached the wall and leapt over it as soon as they got there. Archer immediately swung his Bren machinegun around and placed in on the wall. He called out to the riflemen who joined him.
“Chuck me some mags, I’m getting low here.”
Each man carried spare clips for the unit’s machinegun and conveniently the gun took the same ammunition as the Lee Enfield rifles carried by nearly half the unit. Chard grabbed the spare magazines and placed them on the wall next to Archer. Clarke, Gardner and Harris with their Enfield rifles then joined them at the wall. The men spread out with about six feet between each man. They were ready.
The rest positioned themselves between the church and the wall, covering all possible angles into their position. All the soldiers were now inside the secure position, apart from the officers and Smith who were bringing up the rear with the wounded Humphreys.
Smith could see the last of his men leaping over the wall ahead and it looked like they had finally found a position they could successfully defend. The sound of the creatures was getting worse and each time he checked over his shoulder the number of them seemed to have increased. Forgetting about shooting them he used his last burst of energy to manhandle Humphreys up onto his shoulder and then jogged the last hundred yards. The two officers ran with them, firing the odd shot with their handguns as they ran. Up ahead several dazzling flashes glittered then the whistle of bullets as the riflemen fired with great precision right between the officers to hit the creatures behind them. Smith grinned to himself; all that training was finally paying off. They were now at the wall and Smith literally threw Humphreys to the waiting arms of the soldiers at the wall. He then leapt over the wall, followed by Lieutenant Harvey and Captain Scott.
Chard moved over to the group and explained the situation.
“Martinez is in a bad way and you brought Humphreys back. The bad news is we lost quite a bit of our heavy equipment back there.”
Smith looked at their position, then back at Chard.
“Still got the mortar?” Chard nodded.
Smith considered their position for a moment and then spoke to Lieutenant Harvey.
“We have a decent position here for now, but we’re going to need something better and soon.”
Captain Scott added, “I agree, if we get stuck here and the sun comes up we’ll be sitting ducks from Fritz,” he looked up to the church tower.
“What about inside this church?”
Lieutenant Harvey agreed, “I suggest you take the wounded and the girls and get them inside. The high walls and windows will make the doors an easy bottleneck for those bastards.”
He pointed to the creatures that could just be made out far in the distance. Smith arranged the details.
“We’ll leave Clarke, Gardner, Harris and Archer on the perimeter, the rest can get inside for now.”
Harvey nodded in agreement. “Reckon you can get Trent and his rifle up in the tower?”
Smith looked up and shrugged, “I’ll see what I can do.” He moved off to make the arrangements.
At the wall Archer slammed in a new clip onto his Bren gun and pulled back the bolt. This wall was the first line of defence for the church and Archer would be damned if he was going to let one of those things make it anywhere near them. He looked off to his right, Clarke and Gardner were both leaning against the wall, watching the horizon the same as him. Looking to his left Harris was a little more casual, smoking on a newly lit cigarette whilst watching off to their left.
The church was as expected, well constructed. Though it likely saw few people during the occupation it was in generally good condition. The roof was intact and the stained glass windows all remained. The entrance to the church was through a stone porch that led to a large doorway, protected by solid wooden doors that were reinforced with iron bands and studs. Luckily for the soldiers the church doors were open, something Smith made a mental note to rectify. Smith pulled back his bolt from the safety slot cut into it, the first round slid into place. With his weapon ready he entered the building first. Jones, Lewis and Wilks followed close behind and immediately fanned out to check the building was safe. The church followed the traditional basic design with the altar off to the right whilst the tower was to their left.
The doorway the men passed through took them directly into the centre of the nave. Smith stood there so that he was in the exact centre of the church, he turned in a full circle, noting any points of interest to his men. With an unknown number of hostiles outside it was important that they established a defensive position that could be held for an indeterminate amount of time. There were two main aisles running along the northern and southern parts of the nave. Each of the two long walls featured two tall windows, each a good four feet above the ground. Smith noted their height with satisfaction; they would be a decent obstacle to the things outside. Looking ahead Smith could see the chancel, the traditional space around the altar at the liturgical east end of any traditional Christian church building. In the centre was the altar, a large stone item that commanded this part of the church. Opposite the chancel was the tower, a cramped but thick walled part of the church with a dark entrance at the rear leading to the staircase.
Trent moved off to the left so he could scout access to the bell tower. The two girls ran to corner of the church, finding a dark spot at the northern aisle, they kept low and out of sight. Jones headed for the altar whilst Lewis took the northern aisle and Wilks to the southern. So far it all looked good.
In walked Captain Scott and Lieutenant Harvey, between them they were carrying Humphreys. Moving through the nave they took him straight to the chancel and lifted him up onto the altar, the only raised flat space they could see. Lieutenant Harvey moved up to Smith for a situation report.
Smith explained, “The church look pretty solid. I’ve got Trent setting up in the tower and all the access points are covered. I reckon this is as good a place as any to check the wounded and sort out our plan.”
Harvey nodded in agreement, “Good work Smith, have Martinez brought in here and get Chard, I want him to check them both over.”
Smith nodded and moved to the doorway.
Outside the church the small group of four soldiers were still watching the perimeter. Lewis had left his mortar with the group and it was already set up and in position. Archer was getting restless; he could see the figures in the distance getting ever so close. He called over to Gardner to check on the other side of the church. Looking back he started counting the figures out ahead of him. He lost count after forty five.
Gardner ran back. “Shit! We’ve got more coming in from the vicarage.”
Archer kept his eye on the enemy to the front, replied, “How many?”
Gardner moved up close to him, “At least thirty, maybe more.”
Clarke moved over to them to share even more good news.
“You’re not going believe this, we’ve got a whole road full of those guys and they are coming this way.”
&n
bsp; Without hesitation Archer turned and gave his orders, “Gardner, get inside and let the Lieutenant know what’s happening, you two get on the mortar!”
Inside the church Chard was busy re-applying bandages to Martinez. He’d already finished with Humphreys, who with a bandaged leg was now sitting up on the altar. Chard was particularly concerned with the way the wounds were congealing on the two men. He voiced his concerns to Harvey whilst Captain Scott discussed the parachute drop of him and his men. There were several things they needed answers on and fast.
“We need to know what has happened to these people? What if they are all the way to the Orne River Bridge? We’ll never make it there if there are so many. Where are you radios?”
Lieutenant Harvey answered, “Gone, we lost most of our heavy equipment in the crash...as well as the sappers and pilots.”
“Shit, bad day for all of us,” said the Captain as he rubbed his chin.
The church was eerily quiet, with just the sounds of the whispers of the men and their muffled footsteps as they carried out their tasks. The quiet was interrupted by the familiar thud of .303 weapons being fired.
Smith shouted, “Shit, they must be back!”
The door burst open and a shape of a man rushed inside. Scott, with surprising speed whipped his pistol out from his holster and pulled the trigger. Luckily for the running Gardner, Lieutenant Harvey knocked his hand to the side so the bullets thudded into the solid stonewall of the church. Gardner shouted to all those in the church.
“They’re back! They’re all around us!”
More sounds blasted in the distance, the loud crump of the mortar echoing through the church.
Smith called to the soldiers in the church, “Everybody, outside and on the wall now!”
Gardner rushed straight back out in the direction he’d come from, followed closely by Harvey, Scott and Jones. Smith moved to the door but called out his last orders before joining them.
“Lewis and Wilks, watch the windows and keep an eye on the girls!”
Archer slammed in another magazine and continued pouring fire out into the enemy. Every two or three shots put another back on the ground, still they got up. Gardner and Harris added their own fire with fast, accurate shooting from their bolt-action rifles. They had been well trained to work the bolt and continue the fire at a steady rate. When they ran out they simply dropped in more bullets via stripper clips and then carried on. Smith put one foot on the wall and lifted his Sten gun upto his shoulder. From his position he could see the problem and it had grown substantially since their arrival. From in front the numbers were heavy but being cut down by the Bren and rifle fire. Off to his left a number of the figures were moving from the vicarage and into the graveyard towards them, there were also several groups coming from the village itself, using the road to reach them. The rest of the men spread out and continued firing. The sound of the Enfields continued cycling whilst the Bren and Stens added their own short reports of automatic fire. Lieutenant Harvey put his hand on Smith’s shoulder and shouted to be heard over the noise.
“We need to find out what’s going on here. Who are they and why are they attacking?”
Smith nodded whilst firing another two bursts, he replied, “I’ve seen Yanks and Jerry so far and they all look the same, like they’re dead but somehow still moving.”
“Can we hold?” asked the Lieutenant.
“We can hold as long as they run out of men before we run out of bullets...watch out!”
Smith threw the officer to the side as a group of three of the creatures climbed over the wall to Smith’s right. In the same motion he put a dozen rounds into them, throwing them back onto the wall. Lieutenant Harvey approached the bodies cautiously; one of them was a civilian whilst the other was a Waffen SS soldier. He recognised the uniform and the double lightning flashes on the man’s collar. Either the American and German soldiers had joined forces for some bizarre reason or more likely, something else was going on, but what? As the gunfire continued the officer pulled the body behind the wall for closer examination. Though obviously a normal soldier there were a number of odd details. First, the body was cold, as cold as a corpse. Second, the wounds sustained from the firearms of the airborne soldiers were not bleeding fresh blood but the dark, pungent dead flesh of a corpse. Lastly, the mouth was bloodied, where it looked like the man had been biting or pulling at raw flesh. Captain Scott ran up to the Lieutenant and looked down at the body.
“Any thoughts?” he called out whilst taking a few shots with his carbine.
Harvey released the body, letting it slump to the ground, “Not really, other than these chaps are dead.”
“No shit, Lieutenant.”
Scott bent down and put his hand on the dead soldier’s wrist, feeling for a pulse. He held on for a moment until he was certain.
“Yes, I’d agree, he’s definitely dead.”
Lieutenant Harvey observed the defence of the church perimeter. So far all looked good, only a handful had made it to the wall and each time they had been forced back with small arms fire.
He turned back to the Captain, “I don’t think you understand, I mean these chaps were dead before we shot them.”
Captain Scott looked bemused, “Dead? If they were dead then how were they walking right up to us?”
The Lieutenant shrugged, “I have no idea, it seems like some of them have been dead for days yet they are able to move slowly around.”
The small number of soldiers continued their fire though their ammunition was now starting to look a little desperate. The number of hostiles in front of the wall had dropped to a scattering, the numbers having been thinned by the combined firepower of the Bren gun and 2” mortar. Out on the flanks things were fairing a little differently. Leaving just Gardner and Harris with their Enfield rifles on the wall, Lieutenant Harvey ordered the rest to the flanks. He joined Archer with his Bren gun as well as Smith and Clarke at the wall overlooking the cemetery and vicarage. Captain Scott and the remaining soldiers took the east side facing the road into the village. As soon as they were in position they resumed firing and the battle continued.
CHAPTER FIVE
The dark, solid church appeared unfazed by the unfolding battle. Though bullets and grenades exploded nearby it seemed to have no effect on the aging stone and glass. Up high in the tower was Trent, the unit’s marksman with his precision built Enfield No.4T sniper rifle. These rifles were standard No.4 rifles, selected for their accuracy during factory tests and then modified by the addition of a wooden cheek-piece, and telescopic sight mounts designed to accept a No.32 3.5x telescopic sight. In the hands of a man like Trent they could place a powerful .303 bullet into a target with both power and accuracy.
In his high position he had the best viewpoint, and what a view it was. He had a perfect view to the south where he could see the two riflemen guarding the wall, whilst off to the west Captain Scott was out with a handful of men to cover the corner of the wall where it turned off to the right. In the opposite direction Lieutenant Harvey could not be seen due to the rest of the church structure obliterating his view. What did interest him though was the view to the north. Though he could see none of the enemy from here, he could see various sites of interest. First of all he could make out the shape of an armoured vehicle, probably a tank that had crashed or been abandoned on a narrow lane. A short distance from this was a farm, along with some kind of workshop and several trucks. There were no lights or telltale signs of life anywhere off to his horizon.
Trent turned back to the north, he could see a couple of figures far off into the distance. Lifting the rifle up to his shoulder he zeroed in on the targets with the telescopic sight. Watching carefully he could see what looked like an old man. Trent wiped the sweat off his brow and checked again, it was definitely an old man and he was moving normally, not like those undead things they’d been shooting at for what seemed days. Where was the second figure though? He moved the scope just few inches in each direction until he spo
tted the shape; it was one of those things! Before he could move the rifle he spotted another one also following the man. Looking back at the old man it was obvious he was being chased.
Trent was an expert marksman and after months of training he was adept at making fine adjustments whilst keeping his eye on the target. With a twist on the scope he adjusted for distance and then took aim. The first of the creatures was just feet away from the old man, Trent slowly pulled the trigger as he exhaled. Before the final click of the trigger though the old man turned away from him and pointed something big at the creatures. Trent looked at with an amused fascination, it looked like a shotgun no, not a shotgun, something much more unusual, it was an antique blunderbuss. There was a bright flash and then all three of them vanished in a great haze of white smoke. A moment later came a loud roar that sounded like a small cannon being fired. Trent couldn’t see to lend his support; he could only hope the old man still lived. He waited, checking the surrounding area for signs of any more of the creatures. It all looked clear but still no sign of the man, he lowered the rifle, now looking at the area closer to the church until he spotted movement, there he was. Now only a short distance away the old man continued his progress towards the church. The two creatures were nowhere to be scene. Trent muttered to himself, “Crazy old man!” showing just the slightest grin at this man’s exploits.
Night of the Nazi Zombies Page 8
