Heroes in Normandy

by Alan David

  Eckhardt was reminded of Russia, and knew despair. He and his comrades had fought themselves almost to a standstill, and he felt that they could go on no longer. But he was wrong. Colonel Dantine called him over the radio and spoke harshly.

  ‘Captain, I want your men to break contact with the enemy. We are to move to the east. These are strict orders from Main Office.’

  ‘Sir, I doubt if the men have the strength or the ability to break contact,’ Eckhardt replied.

  ‘They will do so,’ Dantine said firmly. ‘Listen to me. All that is left of the Battalion will make an orderly withdrawal. That means I am going to take my command out of this hellhole. Just get your men back from the forward positions. Let the infantry take over. Their High Command made the attempt upon the Führer’s life. They can get out of this mess the best way they can. We are leaving as soon as possible. Check your map. See that wood behind you? Well that is where we will form up. Then it will be up to us to get the survivors of Vaterland out. We have to be the nucleus of the new unit that will be formed when we are clear. That is a direct order. We are not withdrawing or retreating but obeying an order to pull back. I’ll see you in the wood in an hour.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Eckhardt spoke crisply, and suddenly he was not tired any longer. Colonel Dantine had led them out of Stalingrad after they had been encircled with the Sixth Army. This situation was not so hazardous. They could live to fight another day.

  He sent runners to the two platoons and asked for Leun to join him. Looking at the enemy front line, he judged that they could withdraw and permit the Canadians to gain some precious yards. Then they would break contact while the enemy were regrouping, and would be gone before the Canadians knew what was happening. He checked his machine-pistol and then rechecked his map. He had pinpointed the wood days before, but it would not provide much cover for them. It had been strafed and shot up countless times during the preceding weeks. But it was a staging point, and he would be there when the colonel wanted him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Eckhardt watched his men breaking contact with the Canadians’ then prepared to move back with his H Q Group. Bombs and shells were plastering the area, for they had beaten off another attack and the bombardment had begun again. The SS men moved expertly out of cover and sneaked back, leaving a determined rearguard which covered them before slipping away in turn. Eckhardt kept Leun and the ammunition party with his group and they moved fast when it was their turn, running from cover to cover, dropping to the ground when the fire coming at them was too fierce. But they got out, losing only a few men on the way. The Canadians would soon find they had pulled back, but before they could get forward to probe the area Eckhardt and his Company would be clear.

  Leading the way to the wood that Dantine had designated, Eckhardt eased his helmet and wiped his forehead, which was beaded with sweat. He looked around constantly, and had to keep alert for enemy aircraft. The road was taking a battering, and it was impassable, choked with all the grim flotsam of war. Traffic was at a standstill, had overflowed and tried to get around the obstacles of bodies and smashed trucks and guns. Horses lay in their traces, some bloated, having been killed days before, and trees were down, forming their own barricades. All the time aircraft were zooming and diving, shooting everything that moved. Eckhardt was certain that whatever they did they would not go near the road.

  Colonel Dantine was already in the tree line when Second Company made it to the wood, and he was impatient. He kept checking his watch and looking at the folded map in his hands. He was wearing a steel helmet and carried a machine-pistol, his uniform dirty and stained. He looked as if he had not slept for several nights, and his dark eyes burned with arrant fanaticism.

  ‘You’re the last Company, Eckhardt,’ he snapped disapprovingly. ‘What kept you?’ He waved an impatient hand as Eckhardt began to explain. ‘Never mind that. We’re wasting time. The Canadians will cut us off completely if we don’t move fast. There are about two hundred of us left in the Battalion. I’m taking you out and we do not stop for wounded. We do not even stop for the enemy! If we make contact we’ll go right through them, is that understood? I’ve been ordered to get out as many men as possible, but to get out at any cost. You know what that means. Now take a look at this large-scale map. I want your Company to lead the way. Treat this like a fighting patrol. Go the way I indicate and cause as much trouble as you can if you meet the enemy.’

  ‘I understand, sir.’ Eckhardt had to shout because three Spitfires zoomed low over the road, strafing it with cannon and machine-gun fire.

  ‘See this wood.’ Dantine indicated a dark spot on the map. ‘This is our present position. From here you follow this hedge and then that one. Our general direction is east, but we can’t move in a direct line. No matter what you meet you must keep moving. Remember that I’ll be bringing up the rear with the rest of the Battalion. If you stumble across something you can’t handle then I’ll come in and get you out of it. That’s all the time we have for talking. Just check your map now. You don’t stop until you reach this spot.’ Dantine stabbed at Eckhardt’s map with a grimy finger. ‘There are SS troops holding that area and we have to get through to them. Now prepare to move out and good luck. This won’t be like getting out at Stalingrad. This time we must act like a battering ram.’

  ‘Yes, sir!’ Eckhardt’s eyes glittered as he studied the map for the last time, impressing the details upon his weary mind. He knew that most of these fields looked alike, that it was all too easy to get lost in the maze of lanes and sunken roads and woods. But he knew their general line of advance and would keep moving no matter where they went. He had received his orders. Now he had to carry them out.

  Moving back to where the survivors of his Company were crouching, Eckhardt summoned the Platoon Commanders and issued orders. They would travel in fairly close formation and that could be dangerous, but if they did not take risks they would be captured. His voice was clear but harsh as he spoke, and when his subordinates nodded he sent them back to their men. Leutnant Reinfeld began to lead out, being the most experienced platoon officer, and Eckhardt and his command group followed, with the second Platoon bringing up the rear. Behind them came another Company and, when he glanced back, Eckhardt spotted Colonel Dantine and his HQ already preparing to move along behind. He glanced around to ensure that all his men were ready, then followed the leading platoon. They sneaked along the side of a hedge, sheltered from the enemy by its bulk, and travelled at the double, sweating as they stumbled forward over the rough ground. Around them shells and mortar bombs blasted, and they became indistinct in the dust and smoke drifting across the grim face of the battlefield.

  Keeping clear of the death-choked road, they followed a meandering line of hedges. Eckhardt was soon breathless, but they maintained their pace, relieved at being on the move after having remained static in defensive positions for so long. They covered two miles before Dantine called on his radio, indicating that they should get down in cover. They were glad of the respite. They faded into the hedgerows, lying silent and deadly, and all around them the mounting battle spewed out its hell of noise and flying death. The Pocket had become a killing area, the German armies that had been holding Normandy were being bled to death. Some were escaping, but the majority would be trapped and killed or taken prisoner.

  Reinfeld sent back word that he had spotted Canadian troops ahead — part of the column that was fighting south to Falaise, and it was obvious to Eckhardt that the German line must have given under pressure that morning. He reported over the radio to Dantine and was told to get his men moving immediately and to stop for nothing.

  Going forward, Eckhardt joined Reinfeld, and spotted some of the enemy crossing their line from north to south. They were infantry files moving along a hedgerow, and Eckhardt motioned his two platoons into line. He gave his orders crisply, and the two platoon commanders took control. Eckhardt saw Sergeant Steine with the remnants of his platoon, and Corporal Sieber was ready with his MG, a co
uple of belts of ammunition slung around his neck. All the men were heavily armed, weighed down with ammunition, and some carried Panzer-fausts, for there would be enemy armour to contend with.

  Eckhardt participated in the shooting that battered at the Canadians. They cut loose with everything they had and took the enemy by surprise. The hard-pressed German line was at a right-angle to Eckhardt’s Company, and the Canadians were moving from left to right across their front. The initial burst of fire killed or wounded all the enemy in sight, and Eckhardt signalled for the men to advance. They leaped up and went through the hedge in which they had sought cover, then raced across the meadow towards the Canadian position. A machine-gun began to cut at them from the hedge in front, but Sieber was carrying his weapon at the ready, and staggered as he fired from the hip. Men began to fall in the open but the survivors did not stop, and crashed into the Canadians, hurling themselves silently at the surprised enemy.

  A furious hand-to-hand encounter ensued and the two surviving platoons of Second Company crackled with small arms fire as they fought and shot it out with the enemy. But they did not halt. As soon as they had hit the hedge behind the Canadians as they went through it and continued, firing at all targets which were presented to them.

  Sweating and gasping, Eckhardt looked around, checking his two platoons. He saw that a number of his men had fallen in the fight, but the rest were still moving and, when he glanced back, he saw Colonel Dantine and the rest of the battalion following. Fighting was still taking place among the Canadian positions, but Eckhardt’s platoon had taken the enemy by surprise and caused panic among them. They had not been expecting an attack from their right flank and were temporarily disorganized.

  But there was a corridor of Canadians between them and safety, and Eckhardt thinned his lips as they burst through a hedge and found the meadow beyond occupied by the enemy. Their weapons began chattering at once, and again they had surprise on their side. But Eckhardt knew it could not last for the enemy they were overrunning would radio the situation to their HQ.

  Urging the men forward, Eckhardt raced across the meadow, machine-pistol rapping, and Leun, who was not far from his side, paused to throw a grenade at an enemy machine-gun nest which was being turned to meet their attack. Eckhardt felt blast tearing at him, and shrapnel whirred overhead, but he kept going, his teeth clenched. If it was his time to get hit then it would happen no matter what he did, and he had explicit orders from Dantine. He kept urging the men forward and they made the next hedgerow, but more of their number were left among the dead Canadians.

  Hurling themselves down in the hedge directly in front, Eckhardt called for a moment’s rest. He eased forward in order to observe the way ahead. When he saw Canadians digging in on his right and others moving along the hedge ahead, he guessed that these were support troops and that the enemy were well on their way towards Falaise. Colonel Dantine had not been too soon in making his effort. There had to be enemy forward troops to the right, and, when he glanced in that direction, he saw action taking place. The Canadians were pushing forward as fast as they could, and at last they were making progress.

  Eckhardt spotted excitement among the enemy across the meadow, in and around the hedgerow where they had to go, and he guessed that the enemy they had already overrun must have relayed word of the situation to the troops on their flanks. They could now expect resistance, and they had lost the advantage of surprise.

  The sound of tanks attracted Eckhardt’s attention as he was about to Order the men forward, and when he glanced in the direction the sound was coming from he saw half a dozen enemy steel monsters jolting back from the front line. Whether they were returning to rearm and refuel or had been summoned by the panic-stricken Canadians he did not know, but they meant serious trouble. He could not cross the open meadow with them running loose.

  ‘Anti-tank groups prepare for action,’ he ordered, and the word was passed along the line. His two platoons were already working their way through the thick hedge, and were ready to advance or defend.

  Eckhardt watched the tanks. They seemed to be moving towards his position, and he fancied that they had been recalled to try to halt this breakout. He looked around and saw Leun at his back, ready for anything. Leun was sweating profusely, his face dusty, grey with fatigue, but he forced a grin, and Eckhardt noted that the sergeant-major was gripping a hollow charge in his right hand. He was already unscrewing the safety catch in order to reach the rip-cord. Eckhardt’s taut face cracked into a tense smile, and Leun grinned and nodded. Then they returned their attention to the situation building up in front.

  Two Panzerfausts fired almost simultaneously, and Eckhardt saw two of the enemy tanks take hits. One burst into flames immediately and the other halted and began to smoke ominously. The other four tanks opened fire with their machine-guns, hosing streams of bullets into the hedge. Eckhardt ducked as twigs and earth flew in all directions. He knew they had to keep moving for Dantine. was a man of his word and would be pushing the rest of the Battalion at his back. He watched the surviving tanks. They were coming forward determinedly, and he waited for his anti-tank groups to go into action.

  The explosions that rang out seemed to mingle into one loud cacophony of sound as a fierce battle flared. The Panzerfausts were extremely efficient weapons, and any tank within their range could easily be dealt with. In a matter of moments two more of the enemy were burning, and SS men were shooting up the surviving crews who sprang from the vehicles.

  One of the tanks was intent upon crashing over the hedge, and Eckhardt turned and grabbed the hollow charge grenade that Leun held. He checked that the cap was unscrewed and slipped his right forefinger through the loop of the cord. The nearest tank was a few metres to his right, and he dashed out of the hedge and prepared to attack it. But the tank suddenly spun on its right track and began to face towards him. Its chattering machine-gun was swinging to cover him. Crouching low, he dashed in closer, pulling the detonating cord. Now he had nine seconds before the grenade exploded.

  Intent upon the enemy vehicle, Eckhardt did not see the half-dug slit trench before him and plunged headfirst into it. He fell with the grenade in his hand and, before he could move, the enemy tank was passing over the top of his position. For a moment everywhere was dark, and the weight of the armoured monster sent earth falling in upon him. Twisting face upwards, Eckhardt gritted his teeth against the fear that tried to erupt inside him. The sizzling grenade was still in his right hand and precious seconds were ticking away relentlessly. Almost without thought, thanks to his intensive training, he reached up and stuck the bomb to the bare metal. Its three magnets held it in position and the tank passed on over him. He ducked, aware that the nine seconds were almost up.

  Barely had the vehicle passed away from his trench when the grenade exploded. Eckhardt thought his eardrums had been ruptured. He gasped and shook his head, but pushed himself upright in time to see smoke pouring out of the tank. Then there was a tremendous roar and he ducked instantly. The tank burst into flames then exploded. The ground shook and he fancied that he could feel the heat of the flames. He waited a few seconds, then pushed himself out of the trench and peered around, staying flat on the ground for small arms fire was rattling furiously. He saw the sixth and last tank burning also, and was filled with relief.

  Pushing himself to his feet he called to his men and started across the meadow. Smoke blotted out most of their view, for all the tanks were burning, but they continued forward and shooting came at them from the hedge in front.

  Eckhardt guessed that the enemy’s panic was over. They had recovered from their surprise. He looked around to check his two platoons and saw them streaming across the field, ready to re-join the fighting that they were spreading across the countryside. When he looked to the left, to the north, he saw movement, and guessed the Canadians were pushing reserves forward to deal with them. Dantine had been right when he said that speed was essential.

  Their progress was difficult owing to the s
hell and bomb craters spread across the fields. Artillery was still firing, but the Allied shells were now bursting well to their right, and Eckhardt wondered just where they were and how many of the enemy were between them and the line that was being held. He dropped to one knee beside a hedge and changed his magazine, breathing deeply as he looked around to check his platoons. A grenade came sailing over the hedge and Leun shouted a warning. Eckhardt ducked, and when the grenade exploded he closed his eyes as the world seemed to turn upside down. For a moment all sound faded, and Eckhardt thought he had been hit and was losing consciousness, but his hearing returned and he shook his head, bemused by the closeness of the bursting grenade. A machine-gun fired rapidly in a long burst, then two German grenades exploded, and Eckhardt staggered as he pushed himself to his feet and yelled loudly for the advance to go on.

  They had to thrust themselves through the thick hedge, and there were more of the enemy on the other side. Leun threw a grenade and Eckhardt felt the wind of a piece of shrapnel flashing past his head. Smoke flew into his face and he blinked. Then he lifted his machine-pistol and fired a short burst at three enemy soldiers who arose to confront him, lifting rifles as they did so. His weapon chattered briefly and they went down in a heap. Others appeared, and then more grenades were thrown into the hedge. Eckhardt ducked but kept pushing forward, firing at every target which presented itself. His men were closing in also, but a number of them had fallen, and beneath the frenzied rattle of weapons he could hear the screams of badly wounded men.

  Smoke was drifting heavily, and Eckhardt had long since lost his sense of direction. The small fields and thick hedges completely confused him, and they might have been going round in a large circle for all he knew. But there was heavy action taking place on their right and he knew that they were still cutting across the probing Canadian columns trying to get to Falaise. He was still moving to the west, and it was obvious now that the Canadians had made much more progress than had been realized.