The Collectors Book Five (The Collectors Series 5)

by Sewell, Ron

  “Bruno, it’s time you rested. Give me ten minutes to wash and grab a sandwich. If you spot another vessel, alter course as you consider right, and get Hans up here.”

  Chapter Four

  Major Oskar Berg stared at the massive armoured engine in front of him as smoke from its chimney corkscrewed into the night. The steel door protecting the footplate opened and a middle-aged man in overalls jumped to the gravel-covered ground and saluted.

  “Sergeant Brock, sir.”

  Berg recalled Koch’s comment and pointed. “You drive this?”

  Brock grinned. “I’ve been with this engine since 1940, sir. There’s nothing I don’t know.”

  Berg rubbed his chin. “So each engine has its own crew. Are there any other railwaymen amongst the soldiers?” He saw the man nod, his blackened face giving nothing away.

  “There’s a few, sir.”

  “I sense a but.”

  “It’s not my place to tell a officer how to run his train, sir.”

  Berg left nothing to doubt. “My knowledge of trains is not worth a Reich-mark. I need you to find every man who has worked on the railways. This train has to be ready to leave by first light.”

  The sergeant saluted as a regular soldier. “What configuration, sir?”

  Berg gave him details.

  “I’ll need ten minutes to give my fireman his orders before I start. Where will you be, sir?”

  “In the cab, waiting. No one sleeps tonight.”

  He clambered up and into the overheated cab and nodded to the fireman. “Can you drive this train?”

  The man covered in coal-dust stopped raking the fire. “Yes, sir, but the rules forbid it until I am qualified.”

  “But you could?”

  “In an emergency, sir.”

  “Have you been told where the train is going?”

  The man stared at him in a manner almost insolent. “Sir, I’m a fireman. I tend the fire. It’s of no interest to me where we are going but the sergeant will tell me, once the wheels start turning.”

  “You’re not married?”

  “A girl in every rail-yard, sir. My sergeant hasn’t seen his wife and children for over two years. He should be ...”

  The cab door opened. “My apologies, sir, my fireman prattles on.”

  “Passing the time, Sergeant. You found my men?”

  “Eleven, sir, and every one a corporal.”

  “Good. Let’s go and give them their orders.”

  Throughout the night men and equipment swarmed around the train. With his uniform jacket off and his sleeves rolled up, Berg laboured alongside his men. At 0800 he entered the red brick building with Axel and Lars. The colonel arrived moments later.

  Brigadier General Karl Koenig sat with his aid making notes as Colonel Becker and his three majors entered the room.

  Karl stopped what he was doing.

  “The trains are ready to move when you give the order, sir.”

  “Then there’s no time to be lost. Becker, you will be on the first train with Berg and an explosives team. You will stop before crossing every bridge and check for explosives while in Greece. Gather round.” He waited until all movement stopped. “The quickest route is through Albania. It’s dangerous but gets you out of this damned country. The Red Army is racing towards Greece and has taken Hungary. With luck, the Greek resistance will be fighting each other. One group wants to dominate this country after the war. I am sure they will attack, so you will travel during daylight. You will guard these trains with your lives.”

  “The resistance, sir. They are aware of the penalty if they wound or kill one of our soldiers.”

  “Colonel Becker. The more Greeks we dispose of the bigger the resistance becomes. I don’t think our threat bothers them.”

  “General, sir. My orders are to remain here.”

  Karl lifted his head. “And my orders are you will be on the first train.

  “Becker, your train will leave at nine.

  “Koch will follow thirty minutes later.

  “Zimmerman has the honour of the prize train, which will leave at ten. This time gap will continue until you reach Germany. There you will receive fresh orders. Dismissed.”

  The meeting was over and Karl returned to making more notes.

  Becker and the majors saluted, turned, and left.

  “Thirty minutes before we leave, sir,” said Major Berg.

  “I have a few things to do,” said Becker. “I will join you in plenty of time.” He walked away at a brisk pace.

  “Suit yourself,” muttered Berg. “The train goes at nine.”

  The three majors stood by the engine of train number one and watched as Becker arrived with suitcases and trunks in a small truck. They listened as he screamed orders at the soldiers to hurry and load his baggage into the one passenger carriage.

  Berg shook hands with Koch and Zimmerman. “If I send up a red flare, we are under attack. It’ll give you extra time to prepare.”

  “You worry too much,” said Zimmerman.

  “It’s time,” said Koch.

  “Major,” shouted the driver,

  Berg turned, grabbed the handrail and pulled himself into the cab. The whistle squealed and steam exhausted from the engine. Wheels turned and the train edged ahead. Chains strained as within minutes the speed increased.

  Both men gazed at the hundreds of armed soldiers crammed on the armoured or sand-bagged trucks.

  “Our men at least can lie flat. Those poor buggers in the goods wagons are limited to standing room and one bucket in which to crap.”

  He nodded. “See you tonight,” said Koch.

  Zimmerman slapped him on the back. “I remember as a child wanting to work on the railways and now I have my own train.”

  Koch grinned, checked the time, and wandered across the rail yard.

  Karl motioned to his aid. “Captain Spee, I want an update on those trains on the hour, starting at midday.”

  “I’ll make the necessary arrangements, General.”

  “Spee, you will personally give me an update on where those trains are every hour.”

  “Yes, sir.” Spee ran to the basement.

  This entire level housed the main communications equipment for the SS. In the background the emergency generator vibrated the concrete floor. In front of their grey-green units, five uniformed corporals sat wearing headphones. Their task to transmit or receive signals from the many out-stations, He coughed as his lungs filled with cigarette smoke.

  The communications officer, red-eyed, fought back a yawn. He lifted his head and took his time to stack the most important of signals. “What does he want now?”

  “You are to contact the trains and note their position fifteen minutes before the hour and send one of your men with the information to me.”

  “Spee, can you read Morse code faster than you can talk?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Well my team can and I will not waste their time running after you.” He groped for his packet of cigarettes. “The Russians are not taking any prisoners. In a couple of weeks, we will be dead. I’ll get the information and you can come and get it yourself?”

  “Our magnificent army will force them back to Russia, the Fuhrer has decided.”

  “Spee, you’re a bigger fool than I thought. Half our army is on its way to Germany. Now be a good boy and make sure you wipe the General’s fat arse in the right direction. I have work to do, so bugger off.”

  Spee considered reporting the communications officer but decided to bide his time until the trains arrived in Germany. He sat at his desk and with pencil and ruler made a flow chart for each train.

  At midday, Captain Spee presented his first report of the day. “General, sir, minor delays as a result of checking each bridge for explosives. The time difference between each train remains as ordered. Distance travelled seventy-five kilometres. No problems.”

  “Thank you, Spee.” Karl continued on his plan for the defence of Thessalonica.

>   With the smartest of salutes, Spee returned to his desk.

  Chapter Five

  Major Berg stood on the left side of the engine cab. The driver kept a constant watch through the side and front windows at the track ahead. The fireman raked, riddled, and stoked the fire. On approaching a bridge, the driver sounded the whistle three times to warn the troops.

  Once stopped the explosives team ran to the bridge, while anti-aircraft guns and howitzers rotated on their mountings. Sergeants scanned the vicinity with binoculars. Nervous soldiers released the safety catches on their weapons.

  On finding nothing, the team returned. In minutes the train travelled at high speed. The constant stopping and starting drained the men and placed them on edge.

  At the next bridge, Berg walked back to the carriage where the colonel enjoyed the comfort of a cushioned seat and drank coffee.

  Colonel Becker placed his magazine on the table. “Problems?”

  “Sir, sunset is at 2000. I suggest we decide where to stop for the night, rather than find ourselves surrounded by mountains.”

  “You have been reading my mind.” He opened a large leather-bound folder. From this he removed a map. “Where do you suggest?”

  Berg’s finger followed the track before he glanced at his watch. “My choice would be this valley. Level ground exists in every direction and we should be safe with armed patrols at irregular intervals. To save time tomorrow, we send two squads to examine the next two bridges. I’d prefer three but the third is too distant.”

  Becker sounded calm as he replied. “I agree, we spend the night there.” His finger pressed on the spot. “See to the arrangements.”

  The train shuddered and picked up speed.

  “You may have a coffee, Major, and make me one while you’re at it.”

  Berg cringed as he made two coffees but sat in a separate seat away from Becker. Exhausted he closed his eyes.

  “Major,” shouted Becker. “The train has stopped.”

  He glanced at the full cup of coffee, grabbed his cap and ran out.

  Sergeant Brock leant out of the cab. “Another damned bridge, sir.”

  Berg laughed aloud.

  “The fireman’s making tea, sir, fancy a cup?”

  He clambered into the cab, amazed he was so calm. “The best offer I’ve had all day.”

  Brock handed him a large chipped enamel mug. “Sorry about the mug but the good stuff doesn’t survive for long on the footplate.”

  “It’s hot and sweet, Sergeant. Out of interest, how did you manage to find sugar?”

  “I’d rather not say, sir.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Oh, we’ll be stopping in a valley I’ve chosen, at dusk.”

  “Can you tell me where, sir?”

  Berg took out his rail map and pointed. “In the centre of this valley.”

  “Can I make a suggestion, sir?”

  “Of course.”

  “Stop at this end. If we have to leave in a hurry, it’s downhill. I understand it’s easier to hold the high ground.”

  Berg smiled. “I stand corrected. I should have spoken to you first. Who knows this line better than you?”

  Brock tapped one of the steam gauges. “The team’s coming back. Time to go.” He pulled the levers and adjusted a few valve wheels. The squeal of metal on metal filled their ears as they picked up speed.

  Three more bridges proved clear and they reached the hill overlooking the valley as the sun set.

  Berg, his uniform and face covered in black dust, jumped from the cab and stretched. He glanced at his watch before walking to the first manned wagon. “Lieutenant.”

  A young, fresh-faced officer scrambled off the wagon, tugged his uniform jacket into shape, and saluted.

  “Your men will take the first duty. Set up a perimeter guard at a thousand metres. Patrols are to consist of three armed soldiers. No lights and your men will be relieved in two hours. Spread the word to the next troop carrier until the night guard is covered. Send one of your men back along the track with a red lamp and stop the next train at a thousand metres.” Berg glanced along the train. “Where’s the sergeant in charge of the explosives team?”

  “He and his men are sleeping, sir.”

  “Well don’t stand there, go and wake them.”

  The lieutenant saluted, attempted to turn right but his feet slipped on the gravel.

  Idiot, thought Berg, but thank God rank hath its privilege. At least I can wash and relax in the passenger car. He shouted at Brock who leant out of the cab. “We start again at sunrise.”

  “Yes, Major. The train will be ready. Potatoes are cooking on the fire. Do you want one?”

  “How long before they’re ready?”

  “Twenty minutes.”

  “Save me one.”

  “Yes, Major.”

  “Sergeant Lubbock reporting as ordered, Major.”

  “Sergeant, you will split your team and with full packs march to the next bridge. One group will check for explosives and set watch overnight. Group two, will continue onto the next, and repeat the procedure. We will slow the train and pick you up as we pass in the morning.”

  The sergeant stood motionless as he accepted the order, saluted and strolled back to his men. “No fucking sleep,” he muttered before bawling at his squad.

  In the distance, Berg listened to the screech of brakes. The second train had arrived. At a brisk pace, he strode along the track.

  In ten minutes, he relayed his orders to Major Zimmerman.

  “And what is the Colonel doing?”

  “Not a lot,” Berg said. “We leave at dawn. See you tomorrow night.”

  Zimmerman walloped him on the back. “We will be closer to Germany. I look forward to seeing my children again.”

  The night remained uneventful. As the morning glow of the sun climbed over the mountains, Berg slapped the sergeant on the shoulder. “Time to go.”

  Sergeant Brock opened the throttle on the idling train and they sped into Macedonia. The prior examination of the first two bridges saved time as they raced north.

  Captain Spee made his first report of the day to the general who nodded and waved him away.

  “Sergeant, why are we slowing?”

  “Sir,” he waved his arms at the tree-covered slopes and the deep gorge to the right of the train “This line follows the contour of the mountain. If I travel at speed, I will not be able to brake if the line is blocked. This way I reverse, thus putting the train in a safer position for your men to fight.”

  Creases formed on Berg’s brow. “What if we increased speed?”

  “If the resistance remove one rail, it’s over the edge.”

  “You make a good point. Stop the train. I need to speak to my men.”

  Brock eased back on the throttle and the train slowed to a halt. Berg jumped to the ground.

  The young lieutenant from the first truck ordered his troop to standby.

  “Lieutenant, pass the word we are approaching a forested and mountainous region. I promise you the resistance will be waiting. Be ready to expect the unexpected. If you see anything out of the ordinary, you have my permission to open fire. Do not leave the protection of your wagon. You have the firepower to destroy the enemy on the slopes. In the forest, he has the advantage. Understood?”

  “Yes, Major.”

  “Very well. Make sure the officer on every armed truck understands.”

  “Yes, Major.”

  Berg clambered back into the cab. “God help us, Brock, they give me boys straight from school.”

  “They will not let you down, Major.”

  He shrugged. “If they do, I and everyone else will be dead.”

  Brock eased the train round every bend accelerating when and where he could.

  “Brock, how much further until we’re out of these mountains?”

  “Five hours at best, Major.”

  Brock shouted and pointed ahead as he slammed the engine into reverse. Wheels spun and sparks flew. Carriag
es thumped carriages as the direction changed. Soldiers tumbled over each other.

  No more than four hundred metres along the track lay several large boulders.

  Berg leaned out of the window, his pulse raced as he removed his Lugar pistol. He scanned the forest but saw nothing.

  “Stay in the cab, Major. The windows are bullet proof and it would take a cannon shell to puncture the armour.”

  “If we sit and do nothing we might as well shoot ourselves.”

  “Major, Major.”

  Berg could not help but smile. Colonel Becker stood alongside the cab.

  “Sir.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “The track is blocked. I’ll get my explosives team to blast the boulders and remove the debris. I suggest you return to the safety of your carriage.”

  “Where are these boulders?”

  Berg pointed.

  “Come, we will inspect the problem together.”

  Berg glanced at Brock, shrugged and jumped to the ground. “Sergeant, get your team and bring explosives. Lieutenant, ten men, now.”

  The group led by Becker followed, their eyes shifted left and right as they walked along the track. Berg positioned five soldiers on either side.

  The boulders were taller and wider than an average man. Berg scanned the mountainsides. He saw nothing and shrugged. His thoughts raced, this was the perfect place for an ambush. “All yours, Sergeant. Don’t waste time. Blast those rocks apart but leave the track in one piece.”

  The sergeant laughed. “This is why you pay me.” He spoke in a soft voice to his men who removed explosives from their packs and placed them on the boulders. One man inserted the fuse and connected the wires.

  “Back to the train,” shouted the sergeant as he trailed a wire behind him. A hailstorm of bullets thudded into the sergeant.

  “Shit,” screamed Berg. “Run.”

  Becker hesitated and a wall of heavy calibre bullets sliced him in two.

  The lethal deluge hit them from both sides of the gorge.

  Berg dived under the engine as the throb of the anti-aircraft guns and the howitzers pounded the tree-covered slopes. He could hear the enemy but never saw them. A thunderous roar blasted the boulders. With haste he rolled from under the engine, grabbed the handrail and pulled open the steel door. Pain stabbed every inch of him. He dragged his body into the cab and gave the order. “Brock, shift this train.” His head lolled to one side and he collapsed in a pool of blood on the footplate.