Cold Lonely Courage

by Soren Petrek

  “See you on the other side of that field,” Madeleine responded as they both stood and fired into the two entrenchments in front of them. John emptied his rifle into the machine gunner and his belt man as Madeleine fired short bursts into another. John knew he was seeing fire discipline of the highest magnitude as she advanced. Suddenly a shell screamed out of the sky and landed directly to her side. She was blasted away from it, as if torn off her feet by a giant hand. John yelled and ran to her side. He grabbed her by one arm and threw her over his back as he scrambled for cover. He ran with her to the nearest machine gun nest and dove into it with her over his shoulder. Bullets came from every direction as the Germans realized that they’d been attacked from the rear. The advancing Allied soldiers were also firing on their position. John grabbed the German machine gun and fired immediately on the German position to his right. They were stuck between shooting to keep the advancing soldiers at bay and this new threat from their left. John walked the heavy caliber bullets up the ground and into their flank. He then immediately swung the gun around and fired into the position to his left. As he did so, he felt a bullet rip through his left shoulder, leaving a deep gouge. As he began to turn, Madeleine threw herself into the back of the trench and fired into a group of soldiers directly behind them. A few were killed and the others threw themselves to the ground or behind whatever cover they could find. They were completely surrounded. Bullets hit the dirt and sand bags all around them. Madeleine and John caught one another’s eyes for the briefest instant, communicating a fierce commitment.

  Bullets slammed into their sandbagged position from all directions. John tossed his two grenades towards the German line to their right and left. The air was charged with the overwhelming odor of gunpowder and explosives and the air was a mixture of heavy smoke and dirt that hung dispersed like a screen over the battlefield. Men were dying and screaming all around them as Madeleine and John fought for their lives.

  In rapid succession two German stick grenades, called potato mashers after their shape, landed behind John. Madeleine was on each instantly, flinging them back at the Germans one after the other. John was amazed at her presence of mind and cool demeanor under fire. There was more fight in her than a squad of men, he thought. While he poured bullets into the enemy, Madeleine conserved her ammunition, exposing herself to fire for the briefest instant while she mechanically and unerringly killed each target. It was a frightening thing to see, a raw display of discipline and sheer guts under fire. It was like watching a marksman plink ducks in the shooting gallery back at the Patience County Fair. Together they were pure warriors without fear or caution. They fought flat out.

  Suddenly John ducked down and tore off his paratrooper jacket. He tossed it so that it laid over the front of the nest.

  “Flash!” He heard yelled from the edge of the trees nearby. How he heard it over the crash of gunfire and explosions he didn’t know.

  “Thunder!” He yelled over and over bringing the machine gun to bear again on both flanks. Madeleine and he had created a weak point in the line and he could see flashes of American uniforms from behind trees and brushes. Without warning two men threw themselves into his fox hole and joined Madeleine firing from behind. Even in the heat of battle the two men were shocked to see a stunningly beautiful woman firing into the enemy and killing them right and left. They joined in her fire and poured it onto the enemy position.

  Soon other soldiers moved up as the German line retreated. Madeleine heard the metal upon metal squeak of tank tracks and saw the American star on the side of several tanks crashing ahead of the advancing soldiers. Madeleine slid down to the bottom of the trench as the firing moved away and the Germans retreated.

  “Welcome to France,” she breathed heavily as she reached out to accept a cigarette from John.

  “Nice welcome. Is everyone here as hospitable as you?” one of the other soldiers laughed.

  “Not to Germans, they’ve been here long enough.” She stood up and moved away from the trench and past the astonished faces of American soldiers as they ran past her towards the fighting.

  “Hey buddy, who the hell is that? French Resistance?” The second soldier asked.

  “Nope, British Intelligence,” John said, clearly enjoying his chance to shock the two men. He smiled as he looked at the incredulous expression on the men’s faces. He stood up and wiped the sweat and dirt from his eyes as he caught up to Madeleine.

  “Last thing I remember was flying through the air,” Madeline said putting her hand on John’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “We’re even on that score. You were great back there. I would pick you every time over three good men. I thought we were done for.”

  “We have the singular distinction of having two enemies fire on us at once,” Madeleine said.

  “I think we should try to avoid that in the future.”

  “Yes John, I think we should.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  “Teach, you’re familiar with Caen. What’s our best plan for deployment along these sectors?” General Montgomery asked Jack as several men stood around a map table hastily set up not far from the front as British armor rolled towards Caen. They stood inside a large canvas tent that served as the British temporary command center.

  “There’s high ground towards the back that we have to take quickly, sir. We don’t want this thing to turn into a siege. We know we have Panzer resistance and my latest reports tell me that in addition to determined infantry, we are up against the Das Reich division. They have a solid reputation for nastiness, sir. They barely got away from the Russian front, and then only in pieces. Things became very unholy there, sir. They will make us pay for every inch we get.”

  Montgomery listened carefully as Teach spoke. It was clear that Jack knew what he was talking about. Montgomery was either loved or hated by the various allied commanders, but he was always respected. He had bravado and courage that inspired his men. This too was his second war, too, having seen significant action during the last war during which he was so severely wounded that a detail actually dug his grave in anticipation of his death. ‘Monty’ was credited for expelling the Axis armies from North Africa and was more than happy to face Rommel, his old nemesis, once again.

  Jack stepped away from the table as Montgomery left to take a phone call. Jack pushed aside the tent flap and lit a cigarette, looking south as he often did when he thought of Madeleine. There had been no contact except a US military inquiry that had gone through channels requesting information for a field operative. It wasn’t highly classified. It simply requested the last known position of Das Reich, the same division that waited for them near Caen. There had been some reports of massive retaliation against the Resistance by the SS. But what would the Americans have to do with that?

  Jack had been informed personally about the tragedies at Oradour sur Glane and Tuelle. He was confident that Madeleine wouldn’t have been in either place and certainly wouldn’t have waited around for capture. Other agents hadn’t fared as well. He had received news that Violet Szabo had been captured and sent to a concentration camp. The Resistance had dealt with the Germans responsible in a messy, stupid way. Many mistakes had occurred, on both sides. The German defenses, however fierce, were disorganized and the command structure in some disarray. He could only surmise that Berlin was interfering and frustrating the ability of her commanders on the ground to make quick and effective decisions.

  It was well into July, and Montgomery, along with his detractors, thought they should have secured Caen long before now. Teach was frustrated with the lack of progress but several factors including the weather and the ferocity of German Resistance had delayed things. To him, every inch of French soil liberated meant that Madeleine would soon be out of a job. SOE was now assisting with intelligence and ground experience wherever it was useful. Madeleine was part of SOE’s “F” section, F standing for France. For his part Jack had been redeployed to Montgomery’s staff. He couldn’t have asked for a
better posting and was told that he had earned it. He would experience first hand the victory England so richly deserved. In addition he had spent a great deal of time in occupied France and knew these areas intimately.

  Jack dropped his cigarette and ground it out under his boot. He pushed his thoughts of Madeleine as far back in his mind as possible. He had to concentrate. His personal life would have to wait just as it did for so many other men and women on both sides. The German’s weren’t going to hand Caen over with their compliments. Yet who knows? He smiled, thinking maybe it was Madeleine coming at them from the other direction. Somebody was in for one hell of a surprise if Madeleine was after them. A couple of passing soldiers gave him an odd look as he chuckled out loud at the absurdity of the notion.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  Madeleine and John sat across from one another in a mess tent just a few hours after breaking through to the American lines. Madeleine relished the strong black coffee and the endless stream of cigarettes and complimentary looks the young American soldiers gave her. John watched all of the attention with a crooked smile on the side of his mouth. If they only knew, he thought. Madeleine flirted a little with the men. They were mostly boys like him from farm families or hardworking city dwellers. They had all lived through the depression and many of their families had barely scraped through. They were used to hard work and treated women with deference. They were glad to share a few moments in the company of a woman as beautiful as she. Madeleine kept them at bay, letting slip that her boyfriend was an officer in the British Military fighting along the same front as they.

  After they rested, John introduced Madeleine to his company commander. He had developed a rapport with the officer and told him the full story including Madeleine’s attachment with British military intelligence. The commander raised his eyebrows more than once when John described the way Madeleine dispatched the SS soldiers intending to rape the French girl they had encountered.

  “SOE, Toche? Tough as nails, the SOE I’ve heard of,” Captain Franklin said as if stating a fact cast in stone. Whatever you need, give me the word. I’ve already lost too many good men to these SS bastards. Go kill all of their God damn officers for me!”

  “I will see to it with pleasure, Captain. I thank you for your service to France.”

  Madeleine had said the magic words. Franklin saluted her, a look of stoic pride spreading on his face. He turned and walked out of the mess tent.

  “That, John, is a soldier. I already know without asking, he would lead every charge if he could.”

  “And then some,” John answered.

  Captain Franklin contacted division headquarters to determine the intelligence on Das Reich. Word had come shortly thereafter that the Panzer division was reinforcing Caen against Montgomery. The inquiry was fairly routine. The location of the enemy was pretty common knowledge. The enemy was everywhere the Allies wanted to go.

  “John, I need one more favor from you before I leave,” Madeleine asked.

  “Anything, Madeleine,” John answered, suddenly remembering that she had to leave. He felt genuinely sorry to see her go. They had shared an instant bond. Friendships like that come once in a lifetime, if you’re lucky.

  “I need a sniper rifle and adequate ammunition for it. Some kind of case to transport it in would be preferable. I could wait for one from England but that will take too long.”

  “I’ll find you one on one condition.”

  “What?”

  “Write to me later on after you get home. I get letters from home, but they’re few and far between.”

  “Only if you write to me,” Madeline said with obvious pleasure.

  The lanky paratrooper could tell she liked him, too. Their bond and trust was forged in battle.

  John left the tent and found his commanding officer going over some requisition forms near a supply tent.

  “Sir, I need to find a sniper rifle for the field agent.”

  “Go back to ordinance and have one issued on my orders. Just make sure there’s no damn paperwork. I see one more damn requisition form and I will take a unit and go commandeer what we need myself,” Captain Franklin said, only partially joking.

  “That’s it, sir?” John said with some surprise.

  “You are a hell of a soldier, Trunce. I take for granted what you told me about the SOE agent is true. She is a damn killer. It would be far better to have her out there doing her job than on a boat back to England. Quite frankly, I don’t think she’s going back until whatever job she has left to do is finished. By the way, sergeant Trunce, I need a new lieutenant around here. You’re hired.” He strode forward and pinned the lieutenant’s bars on Trunce before he could utter a word. “By the way, that’s part of the deal too, Trunce, you keep those bars or no rifle. Now get going. I have work to do.”

  John turned and left before his Captain could change his mind. Jesus, that man was rough and tumble. He was an inspiring leader. Things were a little different in the Airborne. The man just made a decision and didn’t agonize over it. There was something to be learned from that and John intended to.

  John returned and found Madeleine packing a small sack with a couple of canteens and food rations she’d rounded up.

  “With the compliments of the 82nd Airborne,” John said handing over the sniper rifle.

  “New shiny bars, John?” Madeleine teased, touching his lapel, accidentally brushing against him for a moment.

  “I keep the bars, you get the rifle,” John said, stepping back slightly and turning his head so that she couldn’t see him blush. It’s going to take some getting used to having a friend and combat buddy that looks like she does, he thought.

  If Madeleine noticed she didn’t let on. She hefted the rifle and walked a few paces to a small table. She expertly detached the telescopic sight. Next she broke the rifle down to its constituent parts and then reassembled it in a series of fluid exacting motions. A couple of paratroopers off to the side watched her, their mouths open in surprise.

  “I guess I don’t have to ask you if you know how to shoot one of those,” John said smiling.

  “No, I was trained by the best. I am better at close range with a light pistol but I’ll need a bit more persuasion than that. There is an agent I know of who is much better than I with any weapon. She is the best shot in the SOE, a British girl not much older than I. Of course the best snipers in the world are women. There are many hundreds of female snipers in the Red Army. Some have more than two hundred kills. I have that from an infallible source, the man who trained me.”

  “He must be a formidable man.”

  “Oddly enough, a German Jew. He was a German war hero in the first war. They rewarded him by throwing his family into a concentration camp and trying to do the same to him.”

  “He escaped, I take it.”

  “He killed many of his countrymen escaping. He is a lost soul and the most dangerous man either of us is likely to ever know. I feel sad for him. When the war is over he will have nowhere to go and probably no one to go home to.”

  “War isn’t just armies and battles is it, Madeleine?”

  “No, John, it’s about politics, power, and the elite. It is about people like you and me torn from our loved ones and our lives when all we want to do is live a good life. That’s all I want. I want a husband who loves me, some children and a little restaurant to call home.”

  Madeleine picked up the rifle and the small bag.

  “You keep your head down, John. We will meet again some sunny day en Provence!” Madeleine said with a flourish and walked out of the tent.

  John waited a moment, not wanting to follow her like some puppy dog. But finally he couldn’t help but step out and look for her. It had only been a couple of minutes but she had vanished into the wind.

  “The British will be coming again soon, Major Diekmann,” Lieutenant Boche said, looking through field glasses at the preparations the British were making below in the lower part of the city of Caen. The town had seen
fierce fighting as the Germans tried to hold onto it. Diekmann and his men were dug in on the high ground on the far side of Caen. The strategic importance of the town was too great to simply abandon it to the allied advance. His orders were “to die in Caen”. When the German High Command regrouped for a counter attack a major crossroads like Caen would be of vital importance. It represented one of many stepping-stones to Paris and, ultimately, the heart of Germany.

  “Let them come. We’ll show them more of the same. We have more armor arriving and will give them a nasty surprise, Diekmann answered.

  “How was Paris?” Boche said casually, not taking his eyes from the glasses.

  “You mean the obligatory inquiry? Nothing much happened. I expect that nothing will. Everything is tied to the outcome of the war and they weren’t about to pull a field commander from the front. The General intervened as well, I am sure. Perhaps they realize that if we have any chance in this war that we must show no mercy. The Fuhrer now has rockets falling on London and there are new weapons being deployed. There are only war crimes trials for the conquered. I appreciate your being unavailable for the inquiry.”

  “I am glad, Major. Those people were terrorists and terrorist sympathizers.”

  “Well, I am going to check our forward positions, Lieutenant,” Diekmann said as he stepped out from behind their entrenched position.

  Several hundred yards away in a blind constructed of brambles and field grasses, Madeleine watched the small building that had been fortified by surrounding it with sand bags. Earlier she had been much closer to the building armed only with her pistol and field glasses, having hidden the sniper rifle for later retrieval. She had lain hidden for hours watching the German officers preparing for battle. She was close enough to identify that the division was Das Reich and by process of elimination she had picked out the more senior officers. One in particular, a major, seemed to be constantly on the move. There was a violent, bullying air about him. He matched the description that she had been able to obtain through Resistance contacts. It had to be Diekmann. Regardless, she saw every man in the regiment as a criminal. If she shot the wrong pig by mistake she could live with it. Madeleine considered the enormity of the additional evidence.