On Desperate Ground (47 page)

“Okay, Rosie, but I’d rather go with you.”

“The radio’s important, Sarge, and we may need Mandelbaum’s German up there. The Captain wants those Krauts alive.”
 

He beckoned to Mandelbaum and they disappeared out of the streambed, picking up Mack and following the folds of the land to the base of the hill. They climbed up the rocks, slowly and quietly threading their way through the thick undergrowth. Twenty minutes later Kowalski led Luther through the same route to the base, then turned left and hugged the edge of the hill until they came to the dirt track. There they stayed hidden, watching and listening until certain no guards were posted. They darted up the track, and began walking, staying close to the edge of the forest, alert for anything.
 

* * *

Raalte stood in the lead halftrack, looking back to insure every vehicle was with him. They were descending a gradual slope on a rutted country lane, probably not used for anything but bringing cattle to the pastures below.
 

“Everyone still with us, Karl?” he shouted back to the truck behind him. His aide signaled yes, leaning out the passenger door and looking back. This track came out on the main road between Bad Schmeideburg and Bad Düben. If they didn’t lose any vehicles on this washed-out poor excuse for a farmer’s road, in a few minutes they would turn left and head for the American lines, white flags flying, courtesy of the excellent linen chest kept by a farmer’s wife.

The sound of the trucks and halftracks coming through the woods alerted Dieter’s Hiwis guarding the intersection with the main road on the left flank of the line along the ridge. The 8
^th
Battalion had pulled their vehicles into the woods to hide them from aerial reconnaissance, covering them with netting under the canopy of tall evergreens. It was through this vehicle park that Raalte's column sped, ignoring the figures in the road ahead signaling him to slow down. Raalte knew he could depend on speed and surprise if they encountered any roadblocks, but as he looked around he saw dozens of men, maybe more, running out of the woods toward the road. This was more than a roadblock. Something was wrong.

The Germans and their Hiwis didn’t expect any other units in this area, so they grabbed their weapons, ready for a fight at the sound of engines. Raalte’s Waffen-SS men were keyed up, also ready to fight their way through to survival if need be. In both groups, weapons were aimed and at the ready, men unsure of what they had encountered, but certain it would not defeat them. Raalte in the lead vehicle, frantically signaled the trucks behind him to keep moving. The column did not stop.

The driver of the third truck took a hard look at the vehicles under the netting as they passed. They didn’t look quite right to him, and then he saw it. They were Soviet army trucks. He leaned out his window and screamed at the top of his lungs.

“RUSSIANS! RUSSIANS!”

The response was automatic. Machine guns mounted on the halftracks and on top of the trucks opened up, firing into the vehicles and men on either side of the road. Men turned in the trucks and fired their rifles and submachine guns, adding to the noise, confusion, and carnage. Raalte emptied his Schmeisser at the men standing in the road ahead of him, sure of nothing except that they had to fight their way through. The halftrack’s machine gun began sweeping the road ahead, clearing it of anyone trying to block the last fifty meters to the entrance of the main road. Raalte looked back and saw the column still moving and firing, the surprised men in the woods pulling back behind the pine trees for cover. They were going to make it! Once on the open road, all he had to do was press the accelerator.

Then it happened. From the cover of the massive pine trees, men tossed grenades into the road, carefully aiming them so they didn’t explode among their comrades on the other side. Raalte saw the grenades roll and bounce on the ground ahead of him. There was no time to speak or think. Explosions threw the halftrack on its side and it slid along the edge of the road for seconds before exploding into a ball of flame. The first four trucks were taken out this way, blocking the rest of the vehicles. At the end of the column, the last driver tried to back up, but the rutted gravel road gave him no traction. Men jumped from the trucks, scattering everywhere. At the front of the column, they were cut down as the Hiwis closed in on either side.
 

The firefight died quickly. The surviving Waffen-SS men fled into the woods, leaving their dead and wounded behind. Hugo Raalte had been thrown violently from the halftrack as it exploded. He lay on the ground, his neck broken and extended at an impossible angle. Around his wrist was wrapped a strip of white sheet he had planned to hold up to the first American he saw, its sharp, clean whiteness fluttering in the breeze and mocking the blood, fire, and smoke all around him.
 

* * *

Rose took off his helmet and peeked above the boulder, Mack and Mandelbaum behind him. He turned and held up three fingers, pointing to where Benedikt, Dieter, and Jost stood, looking out in the opposite direction. He signaled Mack to go left, Mandelbaum right, and that he’d go up the middle. Mack made the motion of pulling out a pistol, and Rose understood immediately. He took out his silencer and fixed it to his pistol. If they had to shoot, at least they wouldn’t alert every other German in the area.
 

Machine gun fire broke out down the road, followed by more small arms fire, which instantly increased in intensity. The three Germans looked in that direction, their attention focused on the source of the gunfire. Rose mouthed “now” and the three men stood and advanced quietly towards the backs of the three Germans, their weapons raised and aimed at each man’s head. As they got closer, a series of explosions echoed along the ridge, followed by smoke billowing up from the pine forest.
 

“
Lieber Gott
,” one of the Germans said in a quiet voice. Rose stopped and nodded to Mandelbaum.

“
Hande hoche!”
he ordered sternly, ordering the Germans to put their hands up. They turned in shock and surprise. Benedikt had leaned his assault rifle against a rock by his feet and had no opportunity to go for it. Dieter and Jost had their Schmeissers slung over their shoulders.

“Verdammt!”
cursed Jost, angry at being taken like this.
 

“
Amis!
” shouted Dieter, the only one of them who instantly realized the implication of the three figures who had taken them by complete surprise. He let his submachine gun drop to the ground and raised his hands gladly. Jost and Benedikt followed suit, with much less grace.

“Are you Americans?” Dieter asked in perfect, British-accented school-boy English.

“
Ja, wir sind Amerikaner
,” answered Mandelbaum as he checked them for other weapons and moved them away from the overlook to sit on a fallen pine.

“We must speak with your commanding officer immediately. How close is he?” Dieter asked breathlessly.
 

“Slow down,” Mack said. “We ask the questions here.” He looked them over. One was a
Luftwaffe
paratroop officer. The other two wore the Brandenburg cuffband and the
Feldwebel
wore those brown pants, although none of them carried Russian weapons.

“No, no,” Dieter insisted. “You must listen to me. There is no time to lose.”

“First,
Hauptmann
,” Mack said, taking in Dieter’s rank as he studied him. “You tell us a few things. Why are your Brandenburgers wearing Russian uniforms, what is Operation Gambit, and where is Johann Faust?” Mandelbaum repeated the question for the other two in German. The three Germans looked at each, stunned, then each of them began talking at once.
 

“
Ruhe!
” Mandelbaum said, commanding them to be quiet.
 

“My name is
Hauptmann
Dieter Neukirk, and I will tell you everything you want to know, and more. There is no time to lose.”
 

For the next ten minutes, Dieter spoke as calmly as he could, describing Operation Gambit in detail. He was intensely curious about how these Americans knew about it, but he forced himself not to ask any unnecessary questions and waste precious time. He told them about Faust and the Hiwis, already in position. He told them that he was about to leave and contact the approaching American forces himself.
 

“What was that fighting we just heard?” Rose asked Dieter.

“We have no idea. Are your other patrols this far out?”

Rose had been staring at Benedikt and did not answer him. Instead, he snapped his fingers in sudden recognition.
 

“Now I got it! This is the tall paratroop officer we saw that night, Mack, taking the American uniforms when we went out on patrol!”
 

Mack studied him as Dieter translated for Benedikt. They spoke and Benedikt gestured towards Rose. “
Hauptmann
Benedikt wishes you to know that the prisoners were well-treated, except for being relieved of their uniforms. They were given adequate replacement clothing. And he congratulates you for twice observing him unnoticed.” Rose smiled and nodded at Benedikt in return, then beckoned Mack to step a few paces away with him.

“What do you think, Mack? Are these guys on the level?”

“I dunno, Rosie. Everything they told us matches up with what we know, and you’re right about Benedikt, he was the guy that night. It does add up. But I don’t know if we should tell them we’re the only Americans east of the Mulde.”

“Why not? They’re our prisoners. Let’s see what their reaction is.”
 

Before they could continue, Dieter spoke up again.
 

“Please, do you have a radio? You must contact your commander and warn him!” Mack approached Dieter, indicating to Mandelbaum to translate for the others as he spoke.

“Listen, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I don’t know what that shooting was about, but it wasn’t any of our troops. We’re the only Americans east of the Mulde River. We do have a radio, two of our men are bringing it up here now, but it doesn’t work, at least not to transmit.”
 

When the translation was complete, the other two Germans broke out in a chorus of “
Nein, Nein
” and Dieter shook his head empathetically.
 

“Captain, you must believe me. There are two battalions or more of American infantry close by. If they wander into this area, Faust will attack them. Without a radio to warn them, he may succeed. And who knows what is happening along the Elbe with the Russians?”

“Rosie, go hustle up Kowalski and Luther. Let’s see what we can hear on that radio,” Mack said.
 

“We have a radio, but it is only short range. I can contact one of my men and get a situation report. If you will trust us,” added Dieter.

* * *

“Over there!” DeAngelo spied the smoke first. The sounds of gunfire and explosions seemed very close, but from within the woods it was hard to pinpoint the direction. Sadler and his men kept moving until they reached the edge of the forest. From there, they had a view of open, undulating meadows that slowly rose until they reached a road that ran parallel to a wooded ridge on the horizon. A large hill dominated the landscape.
 

“Sir, if that’s Hill 182, then that’s the road to Pretzsch right there. We get on that and it’s a maybe a ten mile hike to the Russians,” Captain Canfield said.
 

He was beginning to get excited, after he overcame his initial shock at Sadler’s disregard of a direct order. After all, Sadler was the C.O., so he would take it on the chin if things didn’t work out. Why not be the first GIs to contact the Ruskies?

“Or, that could be the Russians right there, trying to fight their way through to us!” Sadler said, peering through his binoculars, hoping for a clear view of Russians waving him on, into the history books.

“Want me to take a patrol out, Colonel?” asked Sergeant DeAngelo.
 

“Hell no!” growled Sadler. “We need that road and we need to help the Russians if they’re there. This is no time for half measures. Reconnaissance Platoon up front, then each battalion advance in skirmish formation. I’ll close up the rear with the Headquarters Platoon.” Sadler looked at his watch and back to the men still in the woods.

“We move out in ten minutes. Get ready, men, this is how history is made!”

* * *

The three Germans and five Americans huddled around the malfunctioning radio as Luther tuned into different frequencies searching for a signal. Rose and Mack had conferred about using the German’s radio. They claimed another trusted soldier was on radio duty and could tell them how close the American forces were if they had been spotted again. Mack was inclined to try, but Rose, worried it could be a trick, wanted more proof before giving the prisoners access to their radio.
 

“Nothing yet, Rosie,” Luther said, listening to the earphones and tuning the dial. “Nothin’ but routine rear-area stuff. Ya know, these here Jerries shouldn’t even be lookin’ at this radio. It’s top secret!”

“Don’t worry, Corporal. I know this must be the latest version of your OSS field radio,” Dieter said with a smile. “I see some very nice improvements!”
 

“God damn!” Luther said, chagrined. “Wait a minute! Rosie, Captain, listen to this!”