Dig Two Graves: Revenge or Honor (17 page)

John turned his efforts from dispatching units to intercept the Germans to preparing for the incoming planes. If they could turn the aircraft around quickly enough, they might get clear before the Nazi troops arrived.

As Tex had predicted, within fifteen minutes planes started to land. The men hurriedly began refueling. Twenty minutes after it touched down, the first transport was loaded and racing across the rough ground taking off to the west toward Italy.

“L-T, another report for OP 3,” Gus said as John entered the communications tent with Tex Johnson.

“How close are they, Gus?”

“They’re an hour out L-T. OP 5 reported another column approximately the same size approaching from the north, no tanks though. None of the positions have reported any enemy aircraft,” Gus said.

“Colonel, will you do the honors? I think it’s about time to spring our surprise,” John said.

“Thank you, lieutenant, it will be my pleasure, sure ‘nuff,” the Texan responded.

He turned and waved to eight pilots standing by their aircraft. Each man climbed into the cockpit of his refueled and fully armed silver P-51 Mustang, the green and white checkerboards of the 308th fighter squadron, the Emerald Knights, painted on their tails.

The Mustangs, the allies’ most advanced fighters, had raced the 360 miles from Brindisi, to cover the evacuation. The plane’s 1,650-mile maximum range meant it could easily reach its target and return to base, but couldn’t linger. The ability to refuel and rearm in Greece made the Mustang a formidable threat to the Germans. With fuel topped off and armed with bombs, rockets and six fearsome .50 caliber machine guns in each wing, they were more than a match for anything the Germans had heading their way.

Mechanics in overalls  who had just landed with the transports ran to their assigned planes, buttoned up the canopies and gave their pilots a thumbs up. They jumped from the wings, and the pilots fired the engines. Eight liquid-cooled Merlin Rolls-Royce engines whined and then belched white smoke as they roared to life. The red nose cone, the spinner, on each plane began to turn, and each engine settled into a powerful hum. The four black prop blades disappeared in a blur as they spun faster and grabbed the air.

The lead pilot gave a fist forward signal, and single file, the planes rolled out onto the edge of the strip for their takeoff. The mechanics watched each plane go by, looking and listening for any possible problem then gave the pilots one last thumbs up.

The lead plane’s prop wash blasted a shower of dust and gravel ten times more powerful than that thrown up by the transports. One by one, the eight fighters roared across the rough ground, and disappeared into the distance. Once airborne, the group of eight split, four planes headed north and four headed south, in search of a target rich environment.

“The boys of the 308th lead the charge on Close Air Support. I hope them Nazis keep on a-comin,” Tex said. The dust dissipated just in time for the two men to watch the Mustangs fade into the distance.

“We can monitor their channel if you want, lieutenant,” Tex said.

“Thanks Tex, why don’t you stand by with Gus on the radio? I’m going to get our guests on their way,” John said.

“L-T, L-T,” Gus called to John.

“Yeah, Gus, what is it,” John replied.

“It’s Captain Solaris on the radio for you again,” Gus replied.

John picked up the mic not knowing what to expect. “What do you want, captain?”

“I am getting reports of air strikes on the troops sent to intercept you. I told Oberst Dorn you were smart and well prepared,” the captain said. “I believe this development will stop the flow of Jews no matter what I propose.”

“If it does, you don’t get any more of your precious crates back,” John said.

“They are not my crates. Oberst Dorn is the one who wants them, and I believe he has had enough. I think you and I should meet to discuss the future. I have the beginnings of a plan,” the captain said.

“Get out of here, captain, before I send those fighters to strafe your train,” John replied. “Be back in two days with another train load of civilians or kiss the money goodbye. Out,” John dropped the walkie-talkie on the seat of the half-track and quickly walked away, ignoring Captain Solaris calling him.

The Mustangs took turns, two on the ground rearming and refueling while six planes in the air pounded the Germans again and again. Forty minutes after initial takeoff, the 308th reported all resistance had ceased and the German columns destroyed. The report was “No movement observed.”

“Chalk up one for close air support,” Tex said to John, “and for the 308th. They saved our bacon today. Colonel, have those flyboys look around for anything else sneaking up on us. Can do?” John said.

“Can do, lieutenant, but one thing, don’t call them fighter jocks flyboys to their face. I kinda have taken a likin’ to you, but I don’t think them guys will take kindly to that kinda’ talk from a ground pounder,” Tex said with a half-hearted laugh.

“Understood, colonel, understood. Let’s circle up the men. We have to make some plans,” John said.

John gathered the men, including the fighter and transport pilots still on the ground, for a final briefing.

“All right, men, we’ve done a good job evacuating these civilians. We’ve had a run of good luck. The Germans are making noises they aren’t sending any more people. I don’t know if there’ll be another train or not. They tried to get the drop on us and the 308th fighter squadron, the Emerald Knights, blasted the hell out of them.” John said

“Damn right we did,” said one of the fighter pilots.

The impromptu group chuckled.

“Yeah. Outstanding job, men!” Colonel Johnson said. “Damn good job.” Turning to John, he said. “What’s your plan now, lieutenant?

“Plan? We’re gunna continue to harass the Germans and tie up their troops and transportation as long as possible. If we can get some more civilians out, so much the better. How are we going to do that? Well, we’ll have to wait and see what the krauts do.”

“Air cover! The resistance has air cover!” SS Oberst Max Dorn roared as he leaped to his feet, kicking over his chair. “I can’t get one stinking plane out of the Luftwaffe, and these bandits have air cover?”

“Jawohl Herr Oberst! Fighter aircraft the likes of which I’ve never seen, dozens of them. They dove on us again and again, bombing and strafing. They used rockets to great effect. Only three men in my section survived, one hundred seventeen killed,” the frightened leutnant said, blood still oozing through the bandage on his head wound.

“And the other column, Leutnant Schmidt? What of the other half of your invincible ground force?” Dorn demanded.

“Wiped out, Herr Oberst, no survivors,” the wounded man said weakly. Leutnant Schmidt began to weave unsteadily.

“You are at attention Leutnant Schmidt,” Dorn bellowed.

The man’s eyes rolled back in his head. He crumpled and hurtled backwards toward the floor. Captain Solaris caught the man and eased him onto his back.

“Corpsman, corpsman,” Solaris yelled.

There was a hurried knock at the door, to which Dorn answered, “Enter, quickly.”

Two corpsmen rushed into the Oberst’s office and assessed the prone wounded man.

“Can he talk?” Dorn said.

“This man is dead, Herr Oberst,” one of the medics reported.

“One hundred eighteen killed. Get him out of here,” Dorn ordered. “At least he saved me the trouble of having him shot,” he mumbled.

The powerful German officer shot daggers at the dead man as the medics carried him out. Failure. The man was a failure. Dorn and the German Army did not countenance failure. He noticed the weakling left a splotch of blood on his carpet. He would have to get that cleaned.

“Solaris.”

“Yes, Herr Oberst.” Solaris said as he snapped to attention.

Oberst Dorn was worried. He worried about the High Command. Would they find out about his little ransom deal or that the Americans stole it? He worried they would find out he had used the Greek Security Battalion as his private army. Worst of all, he worried they would learn that Allied fighter-bombers were  operating in Greece as they were preparing for their withdrawal. If the Allies attacked the hundreds of thousands withdrawing from Greece by air, it would be a disaster. The German Army did not countenance failure.

“Get your commanding officer over here, you idiot. I’m through dealing with you. We have to take action immediately,” Dorn said.

The sun climbed toward noon in the clear, blue Greek sky baking the impatient men. Under the brilliant sun, the men sweated and waited. Would the train appear? No one knew.

“What do you suppose they’re up to?” Tex Johnson drawled as he sat with John under a tent fly.

“Wish I knew colonel. I wish I knew,” John said, leaning back against the German half-track. John pushed the brim of his cap back to watch the couple of men who were moving in the noontime heat. Most were under cover of some kind of shade wherever they could find it conserving their energy.

“We can’t plan anything until we know what they want,” John said.

“Yeah and G-2 hasn’t been very helpful. They’ve been concentrating on Yugoslavia apparently. Big raids on some oil fields up north, I hear,” Tex said. “Oil fields! Wish I could see that.”

“Homesick colonel?” John said. “Missin’ the oil fields back home in Lincoln?

“A mite,” Tex replied. “I’m from Abilene. Lincoln’s in Nebraska.”

John sat up, surprised and looked at Tex Johnson. “Really?” he said. “I read all about the Lincoln County War in school. I was sure it was in Texas.”

“Look-a-here lieutenant. I’m from Texas, and I’m a-tellin’ ya Lincoln ain’t in Texas, it’s in…”

Sergeant Sanna called out he had spotted something. John and Tex smiled at each other and jumped to their feet.

“L-T. Lieutenant Pantheras,” Sanna called.

“Coming, Nick. Coming,” John called out in reply.

John scrambled up the steep hill with George and Tex right beside him. When he got to the top, Sergeant Sanna, pointed to the south, and said, “L-T, I see smoke. It’s a good ways off.”

“Well, that answers that question,” John said, looking at George and Tex. “They’re coming, and they’re right on time,” John said, looking at his watch. “Colonel, will you alert our air cover?”

“Sure ‘nuff,” the Texan replied. “You want ‘em on the ground till the Hinnies show themselves, right?”

“Right. They’re to wait ‘till we see what they’re up to.

Hell, they could have 88's hidden on that train,” John said, referring to the Germans’ preferred anti-aircraft artillery, the 88 mm rifled cannon.

“Tex, I’m depending on you. If one of the OP’s spots something or something happens at the train, you give the order. The fighters attack, the transports load up and bug out. You get your asses back to Italy. Gus and George have set explosive charges in the supplies. When the planes are ready for takeoff, they’ll set it off. That ammo and fuel will make a lot of noise.”

“Got it,” Tex said.

“Sorry to put this on you colonel, but you’re the brass here. When you give the word, our little world goes up in flames.”

“That’s why they pay me them big bucks, lieutenant,” Tex said. “But you be careful now, hear? I don’t want to go nowhere without you.”

John smiled at the big Texan. He was an officer, but he was also a good man. There were officers and there were officers.

Tex started back down the hill to alert the fighter pilots.

“It’s show time,” John said quietly to himself.

Turning to Nick he said, “Have Gus call Christos. Tell him to keep a sharp eye out. They have to be up to something. I want Christos to watch for any tricks and to try to identify any individuals or at least their units. We have to find out what they’re up to. Send Chris, Costa, and Darrian out to the bunker ASAP.”

“Right, L-T,” Nick said as he headed down the hill.

John and George watched the train make its way across the open plain. It loomed ever larger at the head of a trail of black smoke. The train’s slow, steady progress gave John that familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach as he impatiently watched and fretted.

Forty minutes later the train finally came to a stop at the usual place right next to a stack of ten crates. Captain Solaris’ voice crackled over the air as the walkie-talkie came to life.

“Lieutenant, Lieutenant Pantheras we’ve come to talk,” Solaris said.

“OK captain, you can talk while the civilians unload.” John replied over the walkie-talkie while he watched from his hilltop. “Have them move toward the gap between the hills as usual. We’re watching.”

“There are no civilians on this train lieutenant. We’ve come for a meeting, a face-to-face conference,” Solaris replied.

We’ve come
, John thought. Who does he have with him? Face-to-face, this was what John had feared. His men in their well-camouflaged bunker near the rail line had the Browning Automatic Rifle and a bazooka aimed at the train. Tex was briefed and ready. Christos was safe on the nearby mountaintop directing the observation posts. His men were ready. It only remained for John to step out and take a risk, to see what they wanted.

“Captain, you can get down now,” John directed over the walkie-talkie. “You will open all of the cars so we can see who you’ve brought with you.”

“I have brought my commanding officer. He and I will dismount the train and do as you wish, but we need to speak face-to-face,” Solaris replied.

“OK captain, we’ll talk,” John replied over the walkie-talkie, “get those cars open. Make sure you open both sides.”

John waved to Rabbi Keses to come to the base of the ridge and hustled down the hill to meet him.

“Rabbi, as we feared, there are no people on the train. They say they want to talk.”

“Don’t trust them, lieutenant,” the rabbi said.

“I’ve no choice but to see what they want, rabbi. We may be able to get some more of your people out.”

“A pessimist confronted with two bad choices, chooses both. You are no pessimist my friend. Choose well,” Rabbi Keses replied.

“Thank you, sir. If something goes wrong, remember you are getting out with my men,” John said. “Keep an eye on Colonel Johnson. He’s in charge of the evacuation. I have to go now. Good luck, sir. It has been an honor to work with you.”

Rabbi Keses took John’s extended hand in both of his own and held it for a moment then said, “Lieutenant, it’s said that common soldiers do the fighting and officers claim the victory. You are clearly the exception. You, my friend, are a true hero and my people will not forget you. I promise. The honor has been mine.”

The rabbi shook John’s hand warmly then turned and walked away. He was sure his friend was about to die.

Solaris opened the boxcar doors one by one. Someone else, hidden by the train was opening the doors on the opposite side of the train.

John, George, and Nick all kept their field glasses trained on the man and his movements.

When he was finished, Solaris walked back toward the locomotive where he stopped and waited. A figure was visible as he walked past the open rail car doors, still on the far side of the train.

Who was Solaris’ commanding officer
, John wondered.

John whistled with two fingers in his mouth then made a circular motion with his hand over his head and headed down the hill. Tex, John’s six men, and twenty-four OSS reinforcements came running for an impromptu briefing.

“George,” John said, taking his senior NCO by the arm,

“Signal Christos with the mirror. Have him change to channel three. The same one as the guys in the bunker. I’m going down there to see what they want. If there’s …”

George cut him off, “L-T, it’s a trap for sure. You can’t ….”

“If there’s any funny business, if you see anything at all, order the men to open fire,” John said firmly. “Don’t wait for me. Open fire, destroy the train, blow the ammo, get the guys in the bunker back, and get the hell out of here.”

“But L-T …”

“No buts, George. Open fire and get out. That’s an order,” John replied.

“Oh, so now you’re gunna start giving orders?” George said, smiling.

“Sorry. I guess our rabbi shook me up a little,” John said smiling. “If anything happens, get the men out and do not wait for me. Understood?”

“Understood, L–T. Good luck.”

Addressing the men, John said, “Look men I’m not clear what the krauts are up to. It could be a trick. Colonel Johnson is in overall command and Sergeant Zabt is in operational command.” John looked at George. “It’s been an honor to serve with you. We’ve done a lot of good and hurt the Germans. Thank you. Now here are my orders,” John said. Looking around, John saw the best friends he ever could imagine. “If there’s any funny business, any tricks, you are to open fire,” John said firmly. “Don’t wait for me. Open fire and then get the hell out of here. That is all. Good luck, men. Dismissed.”

As the men returned to their posts two of the replacements were muttering.

“What’s up?” George said to the two. He couldn’t recall their names.

“Sarge, we were wondering what that was all about. What was the Lieutenant doing? We all know our jobs, the standing orders.”

George stared at the dust for a moment then lifted his head and spoke as kindly as he could.

“Ain’t you ever seen a man say goodbye?” he said.

George turned on his heel and walked away from the two stunned men.

“Captain, I’m coming down. Wait where you are,” John said into the walkie-talkie.

“We’re waiting,” Solaris replied.

We’re waiting
, John thought.
So, there was someone else
.

John shook hands with Nick and George. He took his .45 out of its holster and slipped it in the front of his pants. Then covered the weapon with is shirttail. He shouldered the sling on his Thompson and started down the hill toward the train.

“Stop him. What’s he doing?” Gus Kasseris heard Christos cry out over the radio.