On Desperate Ground (48 page)

He held the earphones away from his head. A small tinny voice could be heard, repeating over and over, “Eagle Leader, come in. You are to return west of your line of departure immediately. This is a direct order. Acknowledge.”

“Holy shit,” said Mack. “Whoever Eagle Leader is, he’s obviously east of the Mulde. That’s the line of departure. Sounds like we have a fucking unauthorized operation here.”
 

He looked up at Rose, who nodded back at him.

“Get on your radio,
Hauptmann
. We need to know where that American unit is!”

* * *

When the shooting started, Faust raced up to the castle tower. He saw the smoke and heard the firing die down. Reports began to filter in that it was a collision with the Waffen-SS. He knew that Raalte and his men were too concerned with surrender to try and interfere with him. He came back down to the radio room, and instructed Hans to send out an order to all units to take off the
Wehrmacht
tunics. It was time to go on full alert.
 

After he finished, Hans leaned back in his chair, stretching weary limbs.
 

“Not too much longer now,” Faust said. “Do you need a replacement?”

“No sir, I am fine.” said Hans, not wanting anyone else operating the radio. Changing the subject, he said “Too bad about that tangle with the SS. I hope we didn’t lose too many men.”

 
“It was quite instructive. It showed what can happen when two groups of soldiers, wearing basically the same uniform, meet unexpectedly in a front line area. Imagine what will happen when our men meet the Americans!”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“I am going down the road to inspect the units. I should be back within the hour, unless the Americans show up first. Contact me with any news, immediately.”

“I will, sir.”

“And remember, you are not to take any orders from
Hauptmanns
Neukirk or Benedikt. If they show up here they will be put into custody until they can explain themselves.”

Faust went out to the Puma armored scout car that he had taken from Benedikt’s company. With its radio he could stay in touch with all Gambit units. He instructed his personal guard on what to do with Neukirk and Benedikt if they showed up, then climbed aboard the scout car. He reached into his pocket for his goggles, remembering he had left them in the radio room. Impatiently, he stepped back and walked into the building.

Hans heard the call come in on the frequency he and Dieter had agreed upon for emergencies. He gave the pre-arranged signal that it was clear to talk. “Oak Tree, all clear.” The response came back, “Linden Tree, all clear.” Hans listened as Dieter told him they had made contact with the Americans, overjoyed at first and then despondent when he heard they had no radio.

“There has been no sign of the American column, Dieter. Faust has gone out, watch for him. He’s given the order to remove the
Wehrmacht
tunics. Can you make it to the American lines?” As he asked this last question he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Faust’s goggles, sitting on the side table by the door. He then felt a pair of eyes watching him.
 

Faust was walking down the hall when he heard Hans give an unfamiliar call sign. What was ‘Oak Tree’? He stopped his rapid walk, suspicious now, slowly and quietly coming to the edge of the door. He heard Hans speaking to Dieter, telling him to watch for him and talking about the American lines. Now he understood. He was surrounded by traitors, just like the
Führer
. And he would deal with them the same hard way.

Hans heard a sound behind him, metal on leather. Before he could speak, Johann Faust calmly pointed the Walther at his back, slightly left, to hit the heart, and fired. In the small stone room the sound was tremendous. Hans pitched forward in his seat, slamming against the radio and sliding to the floor, a pool of blood spreading beneath him.
 

Faust trembled with rage, wanting to tell Neukirk he had killed his traitorous friend, but he stopped himself. He didn’t want Neukirk to know he had heard.
Watch for him
, he had warned. There was only one place where he could be. At the observation post. He ran out to the courtyard and signaled to three of his guards.

“With me, on the scout car!” They climbed on the armored vehicle and held on as Faust reached for the door.
 

“Colonel Faust!” A shout came from the castle tower, followed by the face of a guard leaning over and waving his arms. “Colonel Faust, the Americans!”

Faust took the stairs two at a time. From the top of the tower he saw figures advancing out of the woods opposite the road, coming straight at his men. For the moment, he forgot about
 

Dieter, frozen at the sight. He brought up his binoculars and looked at the first group of men. American helmets! Yes, Americans! His plan worked! It left him breathless. There would be plenty of Russians for him to keep on killing, it was only a matter of hours now. He climbed down from the tower and took the scout car to the rear of the first unit of the 9
^th
Battalion. The men were ready, in full Russian uniforms. He walked among them, telling them they were about to save the Reich, or beginning the first step in the liberation of Russia from the Communist yoke, depending upon whether they were Germans or Russian Hiwis. He recognized one of the German non-coms.
 

“You. Feldwebel Schmidt, correct?”

“Yes sir.”

“Are you ready to do your duty, Schmidt?”

“Always have been sir, and so have my men.”

“Then when I fire this red flare, you step off with your men and set a good example. Pass the word down the line. Red flare, advance and attack. Remember to let any radio vehicles you see escape.”

“I know sir. I don’t see any out there though.”

“Exactly. Which is why I want both battalions to advance at once and push them back onto their headquarters. They must be in the rear somewhere. Understand, Schmidt?”

“Understood, sir.”
 

Faust clapped him on the back and returned to his scout car. He got the flare gun and went back to the edge of the tree line to watch the Americans advance. Soon, very soon they would be in range, then everything would be as he had planned, hoped and dreamed for. A sea of blood to wash away memory.

* * *

Dieter heard a loud noise over the radio and then silence.
 

“What—Hans! Oak Tree, come in!” Benedikt was standing lookout while they were listening. The woods below began to move, and he saw it was hundreds of men advancing from their positions.
 

“Amis! Hier! Hier!”

At first Rose thought he was calling him, but when he looked he understood.

“Captain, I think we got Eagle Leader right here.”

They all ran to the outlook. Perhaps two kilometers away, the line of Americans came out of the woods and advanced in skirmish formation. Mack didn’t have to watch for long.

“Luther, stay on that radio! Find out what’s going on!
Hauptmann
, get your man back on the line!
 

“Hans, come in now!” Dieter pounded his fist in frustration. “Where are you?”

“Captain, I got somebody else. ‘Base’ is calling Eagle Leader, saying HQ is ordering him back, and asking if he should return. He’s getting no reply.”

“Who the hell is Base?” asked Mack.

“It’s an old trick,” answered Rose. “When you don’t want to receive a certain order, you leave your communications to your rear, close enough to get to if you need them, but far enough back that you can claim to be out of touch.”

“You mean those guys got no radio?” Kowalski asked.
 

“Not that I can see,” said Rose. “That means we have a little time before someone gets on the horn to Army HQ and tells them the Russians are attacking us.”

“How long, Rosie?” asked Mack.

“Can’t really tell. They could be behind the next ridge or just over the Mulde. Sounds like Base is getting nervous, though.”

“Well, I think he just got some backbone,” interrupted Luther. “He radioed that he’s coming to look for Eagle Leader to deliver the return message in person.”

They looked at each other in frustration. Mandelbaum explained to Jost and Benedikt, who began to talk between themselves. Dieter stayed on the radio, calling for Hans.

“Okay,” Mack said, turning to Mandelbaum and Kowalski. “You guys head back towards the Mulde, fast as you can. See if you can find whoever Base is, or any radio unit. It’s a long shot, but it’s worth it.”

“Should we send help for these guys?”

“Listen up,” said Rose. “The most important thing is getting a message through that those are not Russians out there. A hell of a lot more guys will get killed for a long time to come if we can’t do that, so that’s the top priority. Do whatever you have to do to get that message through. Do not, under any circumstances, let Base contact Eagle Leader. If he broadcasts this to the world, it’s all over. Understood?”

Mandelbaum and Kowalski looked at each other, assessing the impact of what Rose had told them. If they found Base, and the radio operators didn’t believe them, stop them from going forward to Eagle Leader. By any means necessary.

“Got it, Rosie,” Kowalski answered for the both of them.

* * *

Faust judged the Americans to be close enough. He didn’t want them annihilated; only pushed back. He lifted the flare gun and pulled the trigger. Even in daylight, the red flare burned brightly, a flaming rose floating slowly to the ground. True to his word, Schmidt was the first man out of the woods, firing his submachine gun. Others followed and within seconds, over seven hundred Russian-garbed soldiers were pouring out of the woods, a deep-throated “
Huzzah
!” coming from the Hiwis.
 

* * *

Sadler was at the rear of his men, glad to see them spread out before him, feeling like a powerful military commander, ready for anything. Then he saw something he had never seen before. Enemy soldiers, charging straight at him, yelling, screaming, firing, and all headed dead center for him. Germans! It couldn’t be!

His Recce Platoon was out front by fifty yards. They dove for what cover they could find, firing back at the waves of men. The two battalions behind them took cover as well, taking advantage of the dips and swells in the meadow. Sadler watched in terror as his Recce Platoon was overwhelmed within a minute. Then he saw the attackers hit the dirt as heavy return fire stopped their assault, both sides firing furiously.

Sadler was down on the ground when he noticed DeAngelo calmly standing and watching the battle through his binoculars.

“Colonel,” he said. “Those ain’t Jerries. Those are God damn Russians!”

“What? Are you sure? There must be some mistake. Give me those!”
 

Sadler grabbed the binoculars and saw for himself. He had seen enough newsreels and photos to recognize a Russian uniform, and there were hundreds of them, aimed straight at him.
 

“Canfield! Get something white for a flag of truce and get out there! This is some kind of terrible mistake!”

“Out there, sir? Walk out there?”

“Get your ass in gear, Canfield, that’s an order.”

“This is an international incident sir. Shouldn’t you, as commanding officer, go?”
 

Sadler pulled his .45 and pointed at Canfield.
 

“Either you go now or I shoot you for disobeying a direct order.”

Canfield didn’t answer. He turned and pulled a white handkerchief from his pack, and white field bandages from his medical kit. He tied them to a stick, and with the small handkerchief and bandages fluttering above his head, he walked out onto the killing ground.

“Cease fire! Cease fire,” Canfield called repeatedly as he walked by his men hiding under cover. As he got closer to the Russians, he could hear their fire slacken in response. Several times he fought the urge to duck, but kept walking on. In a minute he was to the front line of his troops, still holding to white flag of truce above his head. He didn’t know what to do next.

“Amerikanski!” he yelled, in imitation of what he thought Russian sounded like.

Across from him, one of the Hiwis spoke the man next to him. “We’re not here to take them prisoners, are we? What are you waiting for?”
 

They stood and fired long bursts from their submachine guns, sending Canfield backwards in a shower of blood as the spray of bullets ripped him apart, the tiny white flag flecked with red before it hit the ground.

Faust watched the American officer go down and his men push the Americans back. The rearmost group withdrew into the woods, and the other units pulled back slowly, using covering fire from those behind them to withdraw. The battle was going his way. The Americans had taken first losses, and since it appeared he had a numerical superiority, it was only a matter of time. He went back to his scout car and ordered the driver up the hill to the observation post. It would be a fine place to watch the battle from and settle accounts at the same time. He could also order a few well-placed artillery shells if he needed to give the Americans another reason to fall back.