On Desperate Ground (6 page)

“Aleksandr!” Schmidt yelled, reaching up to pull him down. As Aleksandr heard his name he froze, eyes wide in disbelief as machine gun rounds stitched a straight line in the ground in front of him, the last two bullets hitting him in the upper chest, forcing him back against the ditch wall. He slid lifelessly down, coming to rest next to Schmidt, a look of utter surprise on his face.

The unhit armored cars accelerated at the same time, moving toward the edge of the ditch from where they could fire down on Schmidt and his men, leaving them with no cover and even less hope. The stationary BA-10 was smoking, but its turret and guns still operated. Shells slammed into the back of the ditch wall behind the men, showering them with rocks and clumps of frozen dirt.

“Follow me,” growled Schmidt, crawling toward the point where the two armored cars would crest the ditch, a grenade in each hand.
 

Machine guns chattered as the two BA-10s began to seek out their targets. Schmidt tossed both grenades and the remaining Hiwis did the same. They held their hands over their ears as the grenades exploded. Schmidt waited for the sound of secondary explosions. He heard only the roar of two engines and continuous machine gun fire as the armored cars began their final approach to the lip of the ditch. Schmidt scrambled to pull another grenade from his pocket, knowing that once they got into the ditch, either of the BA-10s could massacre them. Then he saw the front wheels and cannon barrel above him.
 

One of the Hiwis screamed, as the universe exploded around them. Schmidt closed his eyes and waited for death to come. He heard more explosions. Opening his eyes, he saw a pillar of flame ascend from the turret of the BA-10, followed by yelling and the launch of other
Panzerfausts
. Hans von Schierke jumped into the ditch, landing in the midst of Schmidt and his Hiwis.
 

“Hello, boys,” he said with a smile as he caught his breath, “we thought you’d like a hand.” An explosion punctuated his sentence as the reinforcements dealt with the last armored car.

Dieter walked toward the ditch, now churned up from explosions, metal and fire. He had watched as Hans led a charge to stop the BA-10s from breeching the ditch. As he and his men jumped down from the ridge and ran forward to a position from which to fire their
Panzerfausts
, one of the BA-10s had taken notice and turned its twin machine guns on them. One man killed, another wounded. He walked by the sprawled form lying face down in the reddening snow.

Dieter stopped at the edge of the ditch and saw Schmidt kneeling beside a body, holding Aleksandr’s hand. Dieter was startled to see tears in the eyes of the grizzled veteran, dampness mingling with the gray stubble on his face. Schmidt looked up at him.
 

“He was a good boy, sir. I told him to get down.” He shook his head sadly. “He was such a good lad.”
 

Other Hiwis gathered around, some placing their hands gently on his shoulders. At that moment, he looked very old and tired.

“Come, Schmidt,” Dieter said gently. “There’s not much time.”
 

Swinging his MP40 over his shoulder, he turned on his heel and resumed the march westward. The men, still dazed by the fight, slowly pulled themselves together and followed their officer down the road, leaving Aleksandr with his young lifeless face gazing skyward.

As Dieter trudged onward, he looked at the men around him and thought about how few were left from the early days. He remembered his first action at the Maas River, how nervous and excited he had been, how stunning the sudden violence and death. Now it was routine, a normal part of every day. Dieter idly wondered whatever had become of Johann Faust.
 

CHAPTER FOUR

7 January 1945

Alderhorst

Hitler’s Western Field Headquarters

Bad Nauheim, Germany

Colonel-General Heinz Guderian stood at the edge of the map table, his hands locked behind his back, rocking slightly on his heels. As Chief of Staff of the
Oberkommando des Heeres
(OKH), Guderian was, on paper at least, responsible for the operations of German forces on all fronts. The enormity of the situation on the eastern and western fronts jumped out at him, as if giant jaws were about to close tight and snap shut. Which was precisely the case.

There had been a time during the invasion of France in 1940 when Guderian was known as “Hurrying Heinz” for the rapidity with which he maneuvered his XIX Panzer Corps. He had out-fought and out-maneuvered the French, and once had provocatively disobeyed a direct order from the
Führer
. Hitler had ordered him to halt his troops, fearing he was becoming overextended. Guderian knew the situation to be otherwise and blithely ignored the order, luckily resulting in a victory.
 

Now he neither hurried nor disobeyed. Instead the head of the German General Staff waited and begged. He waited for Hitler to see him and pleaded for permission to move troops to meet the encroaching threat from the East. Since November, Hitler had taken over the planning and execution of the Ardennes Offensive, sending vast quantities of men and material into the Ardennes against the thin American line. But the Americans had delayed and reinforced, limiting the German offensive to a westward bulge in the line, which was steadily being pressed back to the German border. The ruined remnants of the German force were now struggling back into Germany through the snow and ice, the Americans thoroughly in control of the military situation. Guderian could see the wasted opportunity on the Russian front. Far fewer troops could have dug in defensively and held the Americans and British off during the winter, with the remainder sent to the Eastern Front to stem the red tide now flowing toward Berlin and victory.
 

Hitler had finally admitted the defeat of his Ardennes Offensive, and Guderian hoped to bring some sanity to the situation as he prepared for the upcoming briefing with Hitler. He looked up from the map to the officer opposite him, General Reinhardt Gehlen, intelligence chief for Foreign Armies East, responsible for gathering military intelligence on Soviet intentions.

“So,
Herr
General, all indications point to a massive Soviet offensive at several key spots along the front, here, here, and perhaps here,” stressed Gehlen, as he sketched three red arrows on the situation map, all leading ultimately to Berlin.
 

“Do you trust your sources? Are you sure the Russians are not feeding you misleading information?”
 

“Everything we based our conclusion upon has been verified. Prisoner interrogation, radio traffic, and aerial reconnaissance, all have supported this conclusion. We have our reconnaissance units on the ground, as well. My own men bring back first-hand information,” said Gehlen with a tone that implied no further questioning of his conclusions was necessary.

Gehlen snapped his fingers and one of his officers brought a stack of photographs to the table. They were of a Russian artillery park, lines of camouflaged heavy artillery and transport hidden in a small valley. As the officer laid the photos out, Guderian saw the
Deutsches Afrika Korps
cuffband and the Knight’s Cross with Oak Leaves at his neck, realizing instantly that this tall officer must be one of those who sought out intelligence first hand.

“The offensive will commence no sooner than one week and no later than two. Our line troops and reserves are completely inadequate to hold off the attack in more than one location.” Gehlen paused and added, “The line will break.”

Guderian reeled from this calm statement, struggling not to let its effect show.
 

“Very well. Return to your headquarters at once. Keep me informed. Daily.” The General looked past Gehlen to the men standing behind him and scanned their faces.
 

“One of your officers will be detached to my headquarters as liaison. You.” Guderian said, pointing at the tall officer with the photographs.

“Very well
Herr
General,” Gehlen said. “Allow me to introduce Colonel Johann Faust.”

* * *

Faust followed Major Bernd Baron Freytag von Loringhoven, Guderian’s Adjutant, to the radio section to establish daily radio communications between Foreign Armies East and Guderian’s mobile headquarters. Faust provided the code keys to be used when receiving Enigma transcripts—top-secret wireless communications—from Foreign Armies East.
 

As they walked back from the radio room, Freytag observed Faust carefully. He did not know the officer and was eager to gain an understanding of him before they met with Hitler the next day. Meetings with the
Führer
were difficult enough and he did not want his Chief dependent upon information from an officer who was an unknown factor.

“Colonel, we will need a final report on any changes or new developments by noon tomorrow. The
Führer
briefing is scheduled for 1400 hours.”

“I will be ready, Major,” Faust said, stressing the last word to remind Freytag of his lesser status.
 

Although Faust out-ranked him, Freytag’s position as Adjutant to the powerful OKH commander put him in a position to deliver instructions to many generals. A mere colonel did not impress him.

“Glad to be transferred out of the Russian Front, Colonel?”

It was a simple question, but Freytag hoped the answer might reveal something of Faust’s character and politics. Glancing sharply at the major, Faust picked up his pace to show his displeasure, a tactic he often used to put others off balance. Freytag, as tall as Faust, had no difficulty keeping up.

“I am glad to be wherever I can serve the Reich, Major, even if it is in such a comfortable post.” Faust deliberately stared at the immaculately clean and well-tailored uniform of the aristocratic adjutant, hesitating for effect. “But I do regret leaving my comrades behind at the front. I only hope that the information we have gathered will help the
Führer
decide how to best strike at the Bolsheviks.”

“Colonel,” Freytag said, turning in front of Faust to stop him and look directly at him as he spoke. “Information will mean little at the
Führer
briefing if it is not presented in exactly the right manner. You must let General Guderian do the talking. Stand to the back of the room and speak only if directed to. If asked, do not offer any opinion, simply the facts requested.”

“Don’t worry, Baron,” Faust said derisively, “I won’t embarrass your General. I managed not to embarrass Rommel when the
Führer
presented me with the Oak Leaves to my Iron Cross. Now stand aside!”

* * *

Later that night, Guderian and Freytag sat in front of a warm fire with glasses of Cognac. Maps and troop data had been prepared and they were ready for the session tomorrow. Guderian relaxed, sipping his drink and staring into the flames.

“So what have you found out about our new intelligence officer, Freytag? It is not often that one sees a veteran of the
Afrika Korps
.”

“That is the least of it, sir,” said Freytag, picking up a dossier. “Received his degree in foreign languages at Heidelburg. Speaks Russian, English, French and Dutch fluently, Arabic passably. Graduated at the top of his class at the officer’s training academy. Recruited into the Brandenburg Regiment in 1939 and was involved in top-secret Abwehr operations. Made a name for himself in the invasion of the Netherlands, with Operation En Passant.”

“That was Faust?” Guderian interrupted. “Quite a coup. Without that bridge we would have lost days at the Maas.”

“It did get him noticed. He requested a transfer out of the Brandenburgers so he could see front-line action after the fall of France. He took command of a reconnaissance unit with the 10
^th
Panzer in North Africa, and ended up on Rommel’s staff with his intelligence section. Decorated personally by Hitler. Wounded and invalided out of Tunis before the end. Spent time recuperating in France, and was sent for ‘light duty’ at von Rundstedt’s headquarters in Paris for six months, duties unspecified,” Freytag noted with a raised eyebrow. “That is unusual.”

“Probably something with the Gestapo or those SS bastards. They probably had him shipping paintings for them out of the Lourve,” Guderian snorted into his drink.

Freytag shrugged and continued. “In early ’44 he was transferred to the Eastern Front, attached to Foreign Armies East.”
 

He stopped his reading and looked up at Guderian.

“What is it?” asked the General.

“His family estate in East Prussia is on the border. The Russians overran that area early this year. His family and fiancé were killed. Immediately after that he requested transfer to Foreign Armies East. He developed his own special operations group and carried out a number of long-range reconnaissance missions.”

“Interesting fellow. Let’s see how he bears up tomorrow. Perhaps his extensive military experience has steeled him to survive a briefing with Adolf!” Guderian smiled ruefully at his little joke. His face darkened as the firelight played upon it.

“We must prevail, Freytag. We need reinforcements in the East, or else all is lost.”