The Fallen Eagles

by Geoffrey Davison

  In the summer of 1939, Leeburg celebrated his eighteenth birthday and in the same month was interviewed for a place at Innsbruck University. He had already decided to take up a career as a teacher. But Leeburg never went to university. Instead the High Command of the Third Reich called him to report to their army barracks in Munich for military service.

  On September 3rd the German nation was officially at war. On September 10th Paul Leeburg was seen off at the station by his family. For Leeburg it was the end of an era. He travelled silently, sadly, with a heavy heart and a resentment against the outside world which wouldn’t leave him alone.

  Not all who travelled on Leeburg’s train, or on other such trains, felt as Leeburg did. For some it was an adventure, an escape from a life which had become a drudgery. It was an opportunity to see the world beyond the peaks of their mountains, or a challenge to prove one’s worth — to lead, command, dictate, to have power.

  One such person was Erich Reitzer. His feelings were very much different to those of his friend, Paul Leeburg, but then Erich Reitzer was a different type of person who had come from a very different type of background.

  Erich Reitzer was the Reitzers’ third child and so far as his mother was concerned, an unwanted child. He was born at a time when Frau Reitzer was planning to marry off the last of her two daughters and so free herself of any family ties. He was something she had not planned, or envisaged, at the age of forty, and to add to her displeasure she felt she was unable to chastise her husband more than she had done because of her doubts as to the actual paternity of the boy.

  Frau Reitzer had only been eighteen when she had met and married Walter Reitzer, a man twenty years her senior. It had been a marriage which had pleased her parents because it brought together two wealthy and well-connected families. It had appealed to Frau Reitzer because there were very few suitors who called at her parents’ mountain retreat. It promised to take her away from the mountains into the social world of Vienna. A world she had long since desired to become part of.

  But Walter Reitzer was a lawyer with a flourishing practice and a desire to enter politics. A desire which was motivated more by his wish to participate in the fruits of power than to serve his country. The social life that Frau Reitzer found herself part of was certainly not what she had anticipated. Her husband’s elderly, legal and political friends, bored her. She had her own tastes which were more catholic and bohemian. She found herself becoming trapped in a life which did not appeal to her.

  She endured her role until her husband had succeeded in becoming a member of the ruling party when she had started a campaign to free herself of the ties which kept her in Vienna. To add to her husband’s burden, and his wife’s advantage, was the fact that she suffered from a mild chest complaint which she put to her advantage.

  Finally Herr Reitzer agreed that his wife would be better living away from Vienna, close to her father’s estates. After all, he reasoned, he had been offered a minor ministerial post which would be demanding on his time and the Baroness Von Roche, the widow of a former friend, had put a very promising proposal to him.

  So Gertrude Reitzer came to live in the Montafon valley, in the large villa with its commanding view and grounds which reached into the town. Her husband visited her periodically when Frau Reitzer performed the necessary duties of an obliging wife. For no matter what other feelings she may have felt towards her husband she never let them interfere with that side of her marriage. It gave her as much pleasure then as it had when she had first been introduced into the delights by the son of a neighbouring land owner.

  Living, as she now did, in the mountains, she found that she had even more opportunities to pursue her delight. She entertained her own type of friends from Vienna to weekend parties and some remained longer. Her two daughters finished off their education at a private school in Zalsburg and Frau Reitzer set about marrying them off. This entailed further entertaining and travelling to the accepted resorts of the continent.

  But the two girls were good looking and it wasn’t long before Frau Reitzer had achieved her object. Her younger daughter married a Swiss banker whom she met whilst skiing in Klisters. He also had a villa in Lugano where he preferred to spend most of his free time. The elder girl married into a brewery family from Munich. Not quite what Frau Reitzer had in mind, but she overcame any reservations at the disclosure of her future son in law’s bank account.

  It was during the discussions for this wedding that Frau Reitzer realized that she was pregnant. Her husband accepted the news, and his wife’s rebukes, with a feeling of admiration for his own virility. When his wife gave birth to a boy, he was genuinely delighted. But by now he was firmly established in the political life of the capital which made heavy demands upon his time. His visits to his wife became even less frequent.

  Frau Reitzer also got over her initial shock and set about organizing the upbringing of her son, Erich, so that it would cause as little interference as possible to her social pleasures. The east wing of the mansion was turned into a nursery and a nanny was engaged. It was in this environment that Erich Reitzer spent his first few years. Later a tutor was added to the household — a man selected not only for his academic ability, but also for his appeal to Frau Reitzer, and as the tutor very wisely made the attraction appear mutual a happy relationship existed until it was time for Erich to be sent to a private school in Vienna.

  Erich Reitzer’s friendship with Paul Leeburg was his mother’s doing. Frau Reitzer was sensible enough to realize that her son could not be brought up in a vacuum. He needed other children’s company. After looking at the names of the possible playmates for her son she selected the younger Leeburg. Her final decision was not the result of any great consideration, but purely a matter of expediency. The Leeburgs were the family living closest to their estate. They were a respected family who kept to themselves, and their youngest boy, Paul, was the same age as Erich.

  As it turned out her decision proved to be a wise one. The two boys grew up sharing the same delights. They skied, climbed and explored together. They competed against each other in local skiing competitions and shared the prizes. Outwardly they appeared to be very much alike, but inwardly they differed. Paul Leeburg was a natural athlete with a love and enjoyment of all sport. Erich Reitzer was an athlete who liked competition because it enabled him to prove his mastery.

  When Erich Reitzer went to a private school in Vienna he found a ready-made outlet for his love of competition, and he excelled. But as the two boys passed into their teens, Paul Leeburg’s athletic ability developed more expertise than his friend’s, and his successes in winter sports received more attention.

  Erich Reitzer found that he could no longer share the honours and it hurt. He never gave up trying, and this unspoken competition between the two boys kept their friendship alive during a period when they could have grown away from each other. But during this period Erich Reitzer also developed a deep resentment and jealousy of his friend’s ability and mastery. A resentment which became stronger than their friendship!

  When the ‘Anschluss’ took place, a cold shiver ran through the corridors of the Reitzer households and those of the connected families. Walter Reitzer had often spoken out strongly, and rashly, against the advances and overtures of the Third Reich. As the German troops entered the country, Walter Reitzer, now an elder statesman, made hasty preparations to leave his home in Vienna and retire to his villa in the mountains. Fortunately for the rest of the family he died instead.

  Frau Reitzer was quick to try and appease their new masters by adding party members to her list of guests who were invited to their household.

  In the summer of 1939, Erich Reitzer was being prepared to further his studies in law in Vienna to enter the family practice. Like his friend he was also called for military service instead. But unlike his friend, Erich Reitzer was pleased at the diversion to his studies. He had wanted an excuse to disassociate himself with his father’s politics. Now he had that excuse and oppo
rtunity.

  For Leeburg, the resentment he felt at the whirlpool which had suddenly gathered him in its wake turned to a silent resignation and grim determination to ride the storm. Reitzer, however, was not prepared to be swept with the avalanche. He wanted to be part of it. To enjoy its successes and reap its rewards. And military life came natural to him. He revelled in it and became ambitious. Their overlords soon became aware of his ability and ambitions. After all, he was a member of a wealthy Austrian family. It was to be expected that they should watch him. But they hadn’t forgotten about his father. His family were still politically suspect. So Reitzer’s advancement was not so rapid. He had to prove himself. He had to show that he was one of them. Reitzer was aware of the position and accepted the terms.

  After their period of training, Leeburg and Reitzer were posted to the same infantry Regiment, stationed in Friedberg. It was a regiment mainly of Austrians with many men from the Vorarlberg. But gradually Reitzer isolated himself from these men — from Hesback, Laufman and Vertz, who had all come from their home town. But not from Muller and not from Leeburg.

  Muller he kept because of his servile manner. For the village postman to be in the company of Reitzer was to put him at the feet of the gods. He became Corporal Reitzer’s servant. Leeburg he associated with because of their friendship. To cut himself from Leeburg was like breaking with his brother. But even this had to come.

  From the moment they had boarded their trains to take them to their training camp they had started to drift apart. Leeburg felt disappointed at Reitzer’s enthusiasm and eagerness to please their officers, and Reitzer resented Leeburg’s lethargy and narrowness of thought. But their friendship could still have survived such differences of thought and deed. The seal which stamped the parting of their ways was their basic attitude towards the very essence of their role in the war — to fighting and killing.

  Reitzer had the primitive, inherent love for war, Leeburg had not. Reitzer had no qualms about killing. Leeburg had the countryman’s love and respect for life. Reitzer grew in stature with the dangers of fighting. Leeburg had to drive himself to master his fears, and Reitzer was aware that his fears existed. At last he had found something at which he could prove his superiority over his friend, and it amused him.

  If there had never been a war, the two youths could have remained close friends for life without ever really knowing the other. But there was a war and they both learned very quickly what the other was made of, and neither respected the other for it.

  The final break came on the patrol through the French woods on the 4th June 1940.

  It was a hot, sultry day. The type of day when the serge uniform clings to the body and the webbing cuts into the shoulders. The four men moved stealthily through the wood, Corporal Reitzer in the lead. Behind him was Muller, then Hertz. Leeburg brought up the rear. They picked their way carefully through the foliage, their jackboots caressing the ground as if every tuft hid a mine.

  The battle for Northern France was almost over. The enemy was in full retreat cut off by the sea and encircled by the Panzers. It was only a question of time. But remnants of the beaten army were scattered around the countryside and the woods had not been cleared. So the tenseness which accompanies danger gripped the four men.

  Corporal Reitzer held up his hand and the four men froze. Automatically Leeburg turned to cover their rear. He stared into the greenery and felt the silence. He had become accustomed to the noise of an army on the move, steamrolling its way across the countryside. The silence made him feel like an intruder, but it had the sweetness of peace about it. He glanced back at Reitzer and saw his lean, grey figure, moving forward, head bent and rifle at the ready. He moved like a young tiger stalking its prey. He had the look of a professional about him, Leeburg thought. They all had — except Hertz.

  Reitzer became lost from view. Leeburg crouched behind a tree and waited. Why had Reitzer brought Hertz with them? he wondered. There were others he could have brought. Why Hertz? He knew why Muller had been chosen. He wouldn’t let Reitzer down. Nor would Leeburg. But why Hertz? Why the nervous, sensitive Hertz? He wasn’t even suited for the army, never mind the patrol.

  Leeburg felt a moment of sympathy for the young Viennese boy. It wasn’t his fault that he was unsuited for military service. It wasn’t his fault that he was in a field company of an infantry regiment. It wasn’t his fault that he was in Corporal Reitzer’s platoon, but it was his misfortune. The platoon had been patient. They all knew that what Hertz felt was no different to what they also felt. Only Hertz could not control his fears like the rest.

  At first Reitzer had also been patient with Hertz, but as his ambitions stirred, his patience waned. Hertz was a weak link which had to be strengthened — or discarded. Was this why he had brought him? Leeburg wondered. To help him conquer his fears? Or was he trying to prove something?

  It was several minutes before Reitzer returned. When he did his face was flushed, his eyes sparkling. ‘The edge of the wood is about fifty metres away,’ he whispered. ‘There is a narrow ravine. On the opposite side of the ravine is a demolished farm house. There is a small party of Englanders loading stores on to a truck.’

  Good, Leeburg thought. They could report back now.

  ‘We will take them back with us,’ Reitzer said.

  Leeburg looked up sharply. ‘Our orders…’ he started to say.

  ‘I give the orders,’ Reitzer intervened abruptly.

  Leeburg looked into his friend’s face. There had been an unusual sharpness in his voice. He saw the fire in Reitzer’s eyes and the hard set lines of his mouth. Reitzer looked at him defiantly, then his face relaxed.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said quietly. ‘One shot and they will give themselves up. I promise you.’

  What was he up to? Leeburg wondered. It was not like Reitzer to play games. Did he know something he hadn’t told them?

  ‘There are only four of us,’ Muller said almost apologetically.

  ‘And less of them,’ Reitzer replied. A glint came into his eyes. He looked at Hertz. ‘You can have the honour of firing the shot,’ he said.

  Hertz went pale. His lips trembled. ‘Please, corporal…’ he stammered.

  Reitzer ignored him. ‘Muller, you cover the right flank,’ he ordered, and turned to Leeburg. ‘You the left.’

  Leeburg listened incredulously. It was almost as if Reitzer was arranging an initiation ceremony for Hertz.

  ‘You two do nothing until I give the signal,’ Reitzer ordered. ‘This is going to be Hertz’s little party.’

  It was his initiation ceremony, Leeburg thought. My God! So that was why he had brought Hertz along. He was going to be blooded. Made to fire his first shot at the enemy. He felt the disgust swell inside him. He also felt Hertz’s eyes upon him, pleading with him to intervene.

  ‘We haven’t checked that the woods are clear,’ Leeburg pointed out, but knew it would make no difference.

  ‘I say they are,’ Reitzer said forcibly.

  There was nothing more Leeburg could do. Reitzer was in command. It was unthinkable to disobey him.

  Reitzer waved the muzzle of his rifle at Muller and Leeburg ordering them to take up their positions. Leeburg purposely didn’t look at Hertz. He knew only too well what he would see. He gripped his rifle butt tightly and moved slowly through the trees, forcing Reitzer and Hertz to the back of his mind. There had to be no distractions.

  He saw the bright daylight through the foliage and crept forward, hugging the ground.

  At the edge of the wood was the narrow ravine, and beyond that the flat, empty fields. The half demolished farm house was to his right, opposite where Reitzer and Hertz would be, he thought. Its whitewashed walls were blackened where they met the charred remains of the roof.

  He saw the square nose of a truck protruding beyond the face of the building. But it wasn’t the type of vehicle he had expected to see! It had a red cross painted on its bonnet! It was an ambulance! Not the stores truck that Reitzer had
said. He saw the crippled front wheels. The ambulance was a write-off. Now he knew why Reitzer was so confident of success. Why he was prepared to play games with the young Hertz.

  Leeburg scanned the ground in front of him. The fields looked untidy and pockmarked, but there was no sign of the enemy. How many men were inside the building? he wondered. Were there any there at all? Perhaps Reitzer knew that the building was empty. That was why he was amusing himself with Hertz. Of course, that was it, Leeburg thought. The building was empty. There was no enemy there at all. He had been jumping to conclusions. He should have known better. Reitzer had more sense.

  But no sooner had his hopes soared than they were immediately dashed to the ground. An English soldier suddenly appeared at the corner of the building. He was unarmed, hatless, in shirt sleeves. He walked to the edge of the ravine and stood studying the woods pensively.

  Sadly, Leeburg became a soldier again. He held the Englander in his sights. The Englander moved into the bushes and slid to the bottom of the ravine. He was a stone’s throw away from where Reitzer and Hertz would be, Leeburg thought. He followed him in his sights. The Englander stood quite still in the valley, then dropped his trousers and crouched down.

  Leeburg lowered his aim. He saw nothing amusing or comical in the Englander performing his act of nature so close to where Reitzer and Hertz would be. He was wondering why Reitzer hadn’t told them about the ambulance. He must have known.

  Crack! Whine! The rifle shot took Leeburg by surprise. His rifle came up to the ready again, his heart thumping wildly. He saw the body of the Englander in the ravine, sprawled face down in the bushes, the white of his arse exposed to the sun! He turned his aim to the corner of the building. Why? He thought. Why had Reitzer done it?