Beyond the Rhine

by Griff Hosker

  “You have flown in the war, sir?”

  I nodded, “We stole an aeroplane in France when we were trapped there once. I have taken an aeroplane up a couple of times since then. One advantage of having an old man who is an Air Commodore is that I know a lot of squadron commanders who will let me take a trainer up. I have kept my hand in.”

  Chapter 7

  When the door shut and we sat beneath the red light the mission was all too clear. We were off. There was nothing more to do. Bill Hay was as fit as he was ever going to be. We had made our last contact with London and Hugo and Susan knew that we had left our base. They would either hear from us when we returned or wait for the brown telegram; missing in action. There appeared, to me, to be the two options.

  We had a longer flight this time and Jack had to climb higher and quicker. There were German night fighters between us and the target. We felt it in the cabin. The ones who had not flown on the first mission looked nervous. Eric Scott had died. The new men looked at each other nervously. I was proud of the way that Samuel and Thomas went out of their way to put the new boys at their ease. They had been with us and knew that we were a band of brothers. They joked and bantered even though the interior was very noisy with the sound of the two engines. This time Flight Sergeant Harris had brought a couple of Thermos flasks filled with soup. As I drank the mug he proffered I realised that there was a tot of rum in it. I gave him a sideways glance and he shrugged and grinned. Flight Lieutenant Ryan knew the enormity of our task. The rum infused soup helped. I had to regard this as any other mission. The distances and the size of the task were irrelevant. We just did what we always did - our job. At the end of the day that was all that we could do and yet I knew that the war was nearly over.

  When we had driven from Hechingen I had seen the old men and boys who were facing us. There were still S.S. They were tough elite units. The Germans had their Panthers and King Tigers, their Me 262 and their V-2 but the men who would fight us on the ground were not the same ones who had chased us through Belgium in 1940. Their bones lay in Kursk and Normandy, Italy and Libya. They had been good soldiers. The ones we now faced were pale shadows. I could understand why we had been given this mission. We were not killing the poor Hans or Fritz. We were killing those who would carry on with the war until the world itself had been devastated. I had to be ruthless. It was not something I admired in others but for my future wife and any children we might have, it had to be done.

  Although the weather had improved it was still marginal. We were going to drop at one thousand feet above Oberammergau. The cloud ceiling was barely a thousand feet above us! Flight Sergeant Harris collected the mugs and, when he took mine held up ten digits. I nodded and stood. It was time to prepare. I was the last man and so just Sam White checked my parachute. When I had done his I tapped him on the shoulder and we stood. We shuffled forward. We had to be as close to each other as possible. Once we started we would have to jump quickly as to avoid fouling the chute of the next man.

  It was some time since I had been at the back and it was disconcerting. I was normally the one looking into the void. I felt the rush of air from the front and the I hurried after White as we ran down the cabin and hurled ourselves out of the door into the black night. This time there was no snow obscuring our view and I saw the parachutes mushrooming in a line. Our approach meant that I would be the closest to Oberammergau. I did not think that we would be seen but Oberammergau was a bigger place than Hechingen had been. They had an annual passion play which had attracted people from all over the world before the war. We would be avoiding the village by heading into the mountains as soon as we could. There was just a narrow window where we would be at risk. As the ground swung below me I saw the airfield. It was tiny with just one Junkers Ju 52 sitting forlornly on the runway. There were no fighters. That was a blessing.

  Dropping so low meant that we reached the ground much quicker. I was helped by White and Foster who both hit the ground before I did. I saw them roll and prepared myself. I was ready and I flexed my knees and landed on my feet. I gathered my parachute. There was no wind. We would need the parachute for camouflage and so I jammed it back into the bag. When we camped I would take the cords. I hung the parachute and bag around my neck and cocked my MP 34. If I had to use it then it was all up but we had to be ready. I pumped my arm and White and Foster joined me. I pointed to the ground and then I ran towards the distant woods.

  The place we had landed was called Pulvermoos. The snow covered it but if it had been England I would have called it moorland. It was undulating and featureless. There were no bushes and no trees. It had been a perfect landing sight. I saw the forest just four hundred yards away. Half way there I stopped and did a three sixty turn. The only things moving were my men. I ran back, using my footprints in the snow to guide me. When I reached them I saw the Lieutenant Poulson had gathered them all together. I pointed to Gordy and Billy Hay and made the sign for them to watch the rear then I turned and followed my own footsteps. This was not crisp snow. It was soggy snow into which we sank. When daylight came, unless there was another snow fall, then we would have left a clear marker for the Germans. That Junkers Ju 52 had no snow on it. The runway only had a thin covering. They kept it clear for a reason. They were using it. Even if they were just flying locally they would still see the tracks. We would have to disguise them once we reached the mountains.

  As we neared the forest and mountain I saw where the ski runs were. They had cut trees to give them a good run. I doubted that anyone had done much skiing in the area for some years but it took time for trees to grow back. They were useful to us, however, for I knew that we had to keep to the south of them.

  The energy sapping soggy snow was an obstacle for which I had not planned. It would be a test of our stamina. When the ground flattened out I held my hand up. There were trails through the trees. I had seen them on the aerial photographs. I looked up at the ski runs. When my eyes came back down I saw the hut which I had also seen on the photograph. It helped me to locate our position. I headed south and paralleled the edge of the forest. I saw the gap in the trees and headed into it. I would be happier when we were hidden by the trees. Although we had seen no one we had been exposed. Once in the forest I put the safety on my gun. Walking through icy trails was a risk with a cocked gun.

  The trail headed towards the south east and the first hundred yards was a hard slog uphill. It flattened and, after half a mile, met another trail coming from Oberammergau and then turned to head due west. It was then that it climbed. Our experiences on our first raid in the snow had taught us that we could use the snow covered branches to initiate a miniature snow storm. The wet snow on the branches was ready to fall. Gordy and Bill began to use the butts of their guns to knock snow behind them as they trudged behind my line of feet. It would not completely cover our prints but it would disguise them.

  As we had discovered in Hechingen the snow suits kept you warm as well as hidden. That meant that I soon began to sweat. The night was not cold; not for mid-February. Sweating was not good. The sweat could be an enemy when we stopped and the temperature fell. I paused when we met the trail from Oberammergau. I checked the trail. There were no fresh marks in the snow. I turned and we began the climb. This trail led to the top of the southern set of ski slopes. I guessed it had been made for the instructors and others who serviced the skiers. It was wider than the first trail. My men were stepping into my footprints but the gap between the trees meant that it would be harder for Hay and Barker to disguise our trail. They would have to improvise.

  When we reached the top of the ski run we stopped. I drank some water. I was sweating and the last thing I needed was to dehydrate. I took out my binoculars and scanned the village of Oberammergau below us. It was black and it was silent. The Allies had made such gains of late that I knew every German town would have Volkssturm. There would be a garrison, albeit made up of part-timers who would respond to any enemy. When the factory and the mountain exploded they wou
ld know. Volkssturm might be the old and the young but they had guns and they could hurt us. I had to have a plan to deal with them. Even while we were still preparing to make our attack I was thinking of our escape. It was like a game of chess. You had to be two or three moves ahead. If you did not then you lost.

  The main trail went due south but I had spied, on the photograph, a trail which went south and west. It was small. It suited us for two reasons: one, it was easier to disguise and two, it cut off a corner and saved us distance. I waved my arm and led them into the forest. It seemed oppressive after the wider trail through which we had hiked previously. We rejoined the main trail three quarters of a mile later and found ourselves exposed. The trail headed due west again. This was the bare side of the mountain. The huge trees were no longer there to hide us. We had over one and a half miles to walk without trees to mask our progress. We would be reliant on our snow suits and the fact that no one would be watching the mountains at night.

  One advantage of the exposed nature was that, in places, there was no snow. The ground fell away alarmingly to our left. There was an urge to hurry and that would have been a mistake. I kept the same pace. I alternated glancing down to see the trail with looks ahead and below. Being point was never an easy job. When I saw the trees ahead I breathed a sigh of relief. Once we were in the trees we would be hidden for the last two miles. It was, however, a tortuous two miles. We had gained the height getting to the top of the ski run and that had been easy. This was a twisting trail which often disappeared into drifts of snow. No one had been down here since the last snow had fallen. It took us longer than I anticipated to negotiate. I checked my watch as we reached the part of the trail which ran along the side of the mountain. It was an hour until dawn. I wanted to be hunkered down before the Linder Valley came alive. Despite the forests and the mountains, this was no backwater.

  When a trail turned off our track and headed back and up the mountain I took it. We were less than half a mile from the place I had identified as a camp. The lower trail passed within two hundred feet of the cliff above the entrance to the complex. That was just too risky. The site I had chosen looked to be fifteen hundred feet away and better hidden by trees. When I estimated that we had covered the half a mile and found a slightly more open area I circled my arm and my men began to make camp. I dropped my Bergen and, taking my glasses I waved Davis to come with me.

  We plunged through the trees. Here there was no path. We took it carefully. When we reached the other trail I was pleased with my decision to use the upper one. There was no cover. We both dropped to the ground and crawled to the edge of the drop. Using my binoculars I saw the river and the bridge. A tiny red glow told me where the sentries were. They had a brazier for warmth. I moved the glasses back and saw that they kept the road clear of snow. The two emplacements could be clearly seen on either side of the barrier. What I could not see, for it was below us, was the entrance. But the road heading towards the mountain, passed the Schloss Linderhof, told me we were in the right place. I turned and looked for somewhere to keep watch on the road. Behind us, about forty feet away was a single stunted tree, some rocks and a snow drift. The ground behind was lower. We could use that. I pointed to it as I tapped Davis on the shoulder. He nodded. Then I looked around and identified where we could tie the four ropes. Satisfied we headed back to the camp.

  Lieutenant Poulson and Sergeant Major Barker had organised our temporary accommodation. Parachutes were draped in the trees. The folds in the material created perfect cover. If an aeroplane flew over he would see no movement beneath. Gordy had risked using one of the small stoves we had to make a brew. We were high enough for the smell to dissipate before anyone could detect us and we needed the hot drink. I gathered them around me as the snowy water began to heat up.

  “There is a spot we can use to keep watch. I want an NCO or officer and one other on duty all day. There are enough of us to just have ninety minutes there. Any longer and we risk exposure. I will have the first duty with White. Get something to eat and then get your heads down. We have done the easy part and now we have the hard job.” I saw the sky turning lighter in the east.

  I took the mug of hot sweetened tea Ashcroft gave me and ate the biscuits from my rations. It was still dark but I could see light in the east. I wanted to be in position before dawn. As I ate I scanned the camp. Gordy had had the men clear the snow so that they could lie on drier ground. We had enough parachutes to use them on the ground as well as in the canopy above us. We both knew the dangers of lying on wet, cold ground. When I had finished I checked to see if Sam had finished. He had.

  “Come on White. First stag!” Before we went I wiped some black charcoal down his face before doing the same on mine. It would break up the outline of our faces.

  The first part was covered by the trees. I knew that the others would be following our footsteps when they came to relieve us. I chose a route which kept us hidden. We approached the rock from behind so that we would not be seen. We crawled the last ten feet and squatted between two rocks. I did not use glasses. We would not need them. We could see the road from the north and the bridge. I did not expect to be surprised but we needed as much information as we could get before we attacked. It was still dark but I saw the thin glow from the headlights of vehicles as they moved down the road. Before true dawn I counted ten such vehicles. That was a warning for the next morning. We would be trying to escape down that road.

  Sam shifted next to me. Without turning, for we had to be as still as possible I said, “Try not to move eh Sam? It is okay now but I want us to look like a pair of rocks when dawn comes. When we move we just lie back and roll slowly over. We disappear.”

  “Yes sir, sorry sir. There is so much to learn,. Now I know what the kids I was teaching went through.”

  “We don’t get many teachers in the Commandos nor do we get blokes as old as you. Twenty five aren’t you?”

  “Twenty six in November sir.”

  “So why the Commandos?”

  “Reading the newspapers, sir. I just wanted to do my bit and when I read about how the Commandos were the ones who had to use their heads then it seemed right. I like chess and puzzles. I don’t think I could have been a soldier who, well, just obeyed orders.”

  “Independent eh?”

  He nodded, “Yes sir. I get it from my mum. I never knew my dad. He died in the last week of the Great War. Mum and dad married just a month earlier. She only found out she was expecting me after she got the telegram. She brought me up on her own. Luckily we had my Nan. Her husband, my granddad, he was killed on the Somme and the two of them brought me up. It wasn’t easy. There was never much money. There were no men for me to copy. I just read about the men who fought in the Great War and then in the wars before. Rorke’s Drift, Balaklava, Waterloo, Agincourt, Crecy, Poitiers.”

  “So why didn’t you become a history teacher?”

  “One of our neighbours was a little French woman. She had married a Tommy and come to live in England. He died of gas poison and she stayed on. She taught me French and I found it easy. After that I just learned languages because I enjoyed them. I didn’t have a degree. We couldn’t afford university and it was easier to get a job teaching languages than history. I still love history though, sir.”

  “Your Nan died recently didn’t she, Sam?”

  “A year ago, how did you know?”

  “Because you waited until then to join up. I bet your mum wasn’t happy.”

  “No sir. Nan was ill for such a long time and I didn’t want me to be the cause of her death. Mum was very tearful. She said I was leaving her alone and I had been her life.”

  “Perhaps she was right, Sam.”

  “What do you mean sir?”

  “Look, this war is going to be over soon. Poor Scott died and he left his widowed mother alone. There are others, ones with bigger families who can fight right to the end.”

  “You have any brothers sir?”

  “No, a sister.”


  “So it is all right for you to die because you have a sister but because I am an only child I should stay at home? I am sorry sir, but that is not right. If I have learned anything from history it is that our country became what it did because of ordinary chaps who did their bit. Not the generals and certainly not the politicians. Besides I don’t intend getting killed.”

  I chuckled, “Then you have joined the wrong section.”

  “No sir. When we were being trained they talked about you. The sergeants said that you were lucky and you couldn’t buy that. You are a legend, sir, I know Scottie got killed. That was bad luck. It could have been me. I was in the boat with him but it wasn’t. And I will be careful sir. I want mum to have grandkids.”

  “You have a girl at home?”

  “Yes sir. She was an English teacher at the school where I worked. I am engaged. She moved in with mum after I left to keep her company. They get on together. She didn’t want me to join up either.”

  Our conversation was ended by a sudden flaring of the sky to the east. The sun burst through beneath the low clouds. It illuminated the bridge and the gate. I saw that there looked to be twelve men at the bridge and the same number at the gate. There looked to be about fifteen hundred feet between them. The Schloss was between them. I saw a Kubelwagen drive from somewhere beneath us. It was stopped at the gate and papers examined. They were taking no chances. When it reached the bridge it had to go through the same procedure. Then it headed west, presumably to the underground factory.

  As dawn broke there was more movement. Trucks plied the road but the majority of the traffic was between the barracks, the factory and the castle. Bill Hay and Private McLean came to relieve us as a veritable convoy left the barracks.

  “Sir.”