by Griff Hosker
I slipped back under the netting. It felt amazingly cosy with the warmth of Hewitt and Barker. “Wakey, wakey lads. John, when you have done your business how about getting a brew on eh? We are far enough away from Jerry to risk it. I can’t hear anything on the road.”
“Righto sir.”
When they left I took out the map. The road passed through Stavelot and Trois Points after Malmedy. There was a bridge over the Ambleve River. That would be defended.
When we left the forest to drive along the road I saw that this was not virgin snow. There were tracks and they were heading north and east. We took the road to Malmedy.
Chapter 6
Malmedy was defended. Thankfully it was by the Americans. When we arrived, there was a road block. Two Shermans were dug in on either side of the road and there was a barbed wire road block across it. We were viewed suspiciously. Guns were levelled at us.
A tough looking sergeant pointed his rifle at me. “Who are you guys and why are your riding a German rig?”
I understood their suspicion. I took off my camouflage cape, revealing my uniform. “We are three Commandos from Number 4 Commando. I am Major Harsker and we were at St. Vith. We were ordered to get to Liège but the 1st SS Panzer Division Leibstandarte up the road put an end to that idea.”
I thought that would allay their suspicions but it did not. “If you are who you say you are then I will apologise, sir. But you should know that there are Germans who are dressed as Americans and speaking like Americans. They are all over the place.”
Hewitt said mildly, “But we are English.”
The Sergeant nodded, “Which means I can’t ask you what is the state capital of Illinois can I?”
I said, “Springfield.”
A corporal said, “It’s Chicago isn’t it , Sarge?”
“Osborne, you are a dumb ass. The Limey is right but I am still taking him to see the Major. You take charge. Watch their gear. Hands in the air and walk ahead of us.”
I felt foolish but I obliged. We of all people should have understood the German ploy. We had used it often enough. We were taken into a command post.
“Sir, I have three men here. They say they are British.”
The huddle of officers who were around the table looked around and a familiar voice said, “And they are. Good to see you, Tom, but I thought you would have been back with your people by now.”
It was Colonel Devine, “We ran into trouble sir. Can we put our hands down now?”
“Of course. These are on our side Sergeant.”
The sergeant nodded, “Sorry sir.”
“Don’t apologise Sergeant you were just doing your job and you did it well. Barker, could you and Hewitt go with the sergeant and retrieve the motor bike?”
“Yes sir.”
Colonel Devine said, “This is Major Dunne. I arrived this morning. The situation is confused here. What can you tell us?”
They made space so that I could stand close to the map. I pointed out our route and told them what we had seen and encountered. They were not surprised by my news of the massacre. “We found some bodies when we reached here. I am glad that some escaped.”
“By my reckoning sir there could be eighty or so who escaped.”
“We need those. They are witnesses Some bastard has to pay for the massacre.”
“It was the 1st SS Panzer Division Leibstandarte sir and they have, had, a couple of Tigers up the road.”
Colonel Devine grinned, “That was you guys eh? A couple of Thunderbolts reported two King Tigers and they were not moving. They said that they had guys working on them. They blew them up!”
“Then the road north is clear sir?”
“I am afraid not. The weather has closed in on the airfields again. They can’t get anything up. The situation is more than confused. What you see here, Major are the remains of half a dozen commands. They are sending the 82nd Airborne to help us. The 101st has been sent to a place called Bastogne, further south, but the Krauts are pulling all the strings. They have taken Stavelot. That means they hold a bridge over the river and there are reports of them driving north to Stourmont. There is a huge fuel dump there.”
“Surely they can blow it?”
“There is no radio communication with them.”
I shrugged, “Send a fighter bomber and blow it up, sir.”
Major Dunne looked shocked, “There are Americans guarding that, Major Harsker. We do not kill our own.”
“If those King Tigers get refuelled then a lot more Americans and British will die, Major. The risk comes as soon as you put on a uniform.”
Colonel Devine said, “That is not our decision but we have been ordered to get to Stavelot and help retake it. General Hodges has decided to make a mark in the sand. We stop them here.” He looked at me. “Are you with us?”
“Of course sir. Where do you want us?”
“In the lead vehicle, with me. You seem to have a sense of survival and you know this country. We leave in thirty minutes.” As the others moved away he said, “Grab a cup of Joe first. Damned good to see you.”
I nodded, “And you sir. What about St. Vith?”
“They are holding on there but only just. If we can retake Stavelot then we have a chance to relieve them.”
I knew that we were short of ammunition but I also knew that the Colonel and his men would be just as desperate as we were. “Sir, are there any captured German weapons and ammunition?”
Major Dunne said, “In the next building but they don’t fit our guns.”
Colonel Devine laughed, “The British, it seems, are magpies. The Major here has German weapons too!”
I heard the motor bike outside. I stepped into the sunshine. Dark clouds were on the horizon but, for the moment, we could get aeroplanes up. We would have intelligence!
“Gordy, we are losing the motorbike. Get our gear. We are travelling with the Colonel and I guess that means the halftrack.”
“Thank God for that! I think I am getting piles!”
“There are German weapons and ammo in here. See what you can get eh?”
“Will do sir.”
I grabbed a cup of coffee. It was hot and was just what I needed. I looked up as a flight of Thunderbolts zoomed overhead. I returned to the Command Post. Colonel Devine shook his head, “The weather is closing in again. Our airfields send up fighter bombers when they can but it is a lottery. Your dad is a pilot, you know that better than anyone. It makes you wonder whose side God is on.”
I finished the coffee and followed the Colonel out. Barker and Hewitt were standing there grinning. “Like an Aladdin’s cave, sir. German grenades and shed loads of ammo!”
The Colonel pointed to the M3. “We will be a little crowded in the halftrack. Vehicles are at a premium. We have lost all of our armoured cars. I don’t want to risk losing the three Shermans we have. We will run point. Major Dunne is in command of the tanks. Most of the men are his. You and I are expendable.”
When we reached the halftrack I saw that the driver was Sergeant Major O’Rourke. He was bandaged. He had a delighted expression when he saw the three of us. “Good to see you, sir. I never got to thank you guys properly for saving me back there on the road to Andler.”
“Don’t mention it Sarn’t Major. Glad to be of help.”
“Right O’Rourke. Off we go. Keep your eyes open for the Krauts.”
I stood with the Colonel and the gunner at the front of the M3. He had a .50 Calibre there. Barker handed me an MP 34 German submachine gun. “We have plenty of ammo for this one, sir. The .45 bullets were as scarce as a Scotsman buying a round of drinks!”
Colonel Devine laughed, “I guess you are saying that Scotsmen are mean!”
“I thought you knew, sir. That is why they wear kilts! No pockets in kilts!” The Americans on board all laughed. They had not heard the old music hall joke before.
I put the two spare magazines in my battle jerkin and added two more grenades. I had used two. The rest we put in o
ur Bergens. I did not think that we would need the white camouflage capes any time soon and we stored those too.
Colonel Devine pointed to my beret. “No helmet, Major?”
“In our line of work they are often a hindrance. I know they might come in handy on a day like this when Jerry is going to be lobbing shells at us but you get used to fighting a certain way.”
“How long have you been fighting this way, Major?”
I noticed, idly, that the forest through which we were driving was ending. Soon we would be in more open country. The clouds had begun rolling in and the air was marginally warmer. Either snow or rain was on its way. “I first fought the Germans here in 1940. I have been in the Commandos for about four years.”
He shook his head, “You guys have had a tough war.”
“Yes sir but we are the survivors. The ones to feel sympathy for are the poor sods who won’t be coming back. I have lost a lot of good men.”
The Colonel nodded, “Until this little shindig I had lost none. I am learning.”
Suddenly the road, two hundred yards from us, erupted as German shells began to lay down a barrage. Colonel Devine shouted, “Sergeant Major get us off the road.”
I took out my binoculars. I could see, in the distance, Stavelot. There was a church tower of some description, and it did not take genius to work out that they had a spotter there for the field artillery which accompanied the 1st SS Panzer Division Leibstandarte. I looked down at the map. The tower would be attached to the Abbey which was at the eastern end of the town.
Colonel Devine said to the corporal on the radio, “Ask Major Dunne if his Shermans could lay down some smoke. They have spotters for their artillery.” We were still edging along the soft snow by the side of the road and the barrage was creeping closer to us. The three tanks were two hundred yards behind the four halftracks which led the column. There were three cracks from behind us and the smoke shells landed half a mile up the road. Soon a thick pall of smoke filled the road.
“Right Sergeant Major, back on the road and give it all she has got. Heads down!”
I did not need a second command and I squatted down beneath the half inch of steel. The Germans were still firing but they were firing blind now. “Sergeant Barker, pass me the Mauser.”
He slid the rifle to me and I checked that it had a full magazine. A shell exploded just fifty yards to our left as we approached the smoke. Shrapnel rattled against the side. It sounded like hailstones. The acrid smoke was disgusting but it prevented their spotter from tracking us. As soon as we burst through, however, he would spot us again. The town was a mile away and so the tower was out of my range. I would, however, be ready if I got the chance.
As we burst through the smoke I risked a look over the edge of the halftrack. The elevated vantage point meant that I could see further ahead than the driver. I used the telescopic sight and I saw the German ambush just three quarters of a mile up the road. They were wearing camouflage. I did not see them but I did see the Panzerfaust.
“Colonel, anti-tank guns. There are two of them and they are on either side of the road.” If we carried on they would hit us and the road would be blocked.
“O’Rourke, off to the left. Sergeant, everybody off. Get the other two halftracks unloaded. We will have to get rid of these emplacements the hard way.” He turned to the radio operator. “Tell the Shermans to aim at the flashes from their artillery.”
“Sergeant Barker, go with the Colonel and his men. I’ll see what I can do up here.”
The Colonel saw the rifle and the scope, “Good luck, Major. The range looks a little long to me.”
“Even if I don’t hit them I can keep their heads down.”
I looked through the sight. It looked a long way off and I knew that I would have to be as still as possible. The metal rim of the halftrack was ideal. I breathed slowly as I targeted the machine gunner. He was looking down the barrel. The MG 42 had the range. It might not be as accurate at three quarters of a mile but some bullets would hit. The effective range was over two thousand yards. I squeezed the trigger twice. I saw the gunner fall and clutch his shoulder. The other one opened fire, not at the Colonel and his men as they advanced, but at us. The bullets clanged off the halftrack.
Sergeant Major O’Rourke laughed, “Are you trying to get us killed, sir?”
“Don’t you trust American steel, Sergeant Major? Besides if they are firing at us they can’t fire at the Colonel.” I traversed to the other gun; it was the one which had fired at us. The angle here was a little better. I fired three bullets and one of them hit the gun. There was a flash as the Panzerfaust fired. I saw the flame and then the rocket as it headed towards us.
I saw an officer stand up to berate the rocketeer. He was too good a target and I hit him in the chest. The rocket spiralled off to the left after two hundred yards and buried itself in the snow.
“Sir, weren’t you worried?”
“No, Sergeant, the effective range of those things is two hundred feet.”
“How do you know that sir?”
“I have fired one.”
I looked ahead and saw that the Colonel and his men were now within four hundred yards of the German front lines. The infantry there were firing back at them. The tanks had managed to hit a couple of the enemy artillery pieces. Their firing was more sporadic and sleety snow had begun to fall. The spotter would have more difficulty in accurate reports.
“Sergeant Major could you drive down this road slowly?”
“I could sir, but the Colonel said to stay here and besides they might hit us.”
“If you drive slowly and stop four hundred yards from the Germans, the rockets can do us no harm and I can use the machine gun.” There was silence. “Look Sergeant Major, if it gets hairy then stick it in reverse.”
“It’s your funeral sir. You will be a bigger target than me.”
“That’s the spirit.”
As he put it into gear and headed back onto the road I began to fire the Mauser. With plenty of ammunition I could make life hard for them. Of course if they had their own sniper in that tower then I was a dead man. I concentrated on the Panzerfausts. If I could make them waste more rockets then so much the better and we appeared to be immune from the machine guns, for the moment. With their officer dead the two rocketeers sent another two rockets towards us. One kept a straight line for longer than was comfortable before plunging to the ground and exploding in the road just two hundred yards from us. I shot one of the crew and the other decided to abandon the Panzerfaust and try to hit us with their rifles.
With a range of two thousand yards I decided it was time to test the firepower of the Browning against the MG 42. Of course it meant standing up to fire it. I cocked it whilst crouching. Putting both hands on the grips and trigger I pulled myself up and I was firing even as I stood. I moved it from left to right. I managed to catch them unawares. My first bullets struck the MG 42 and as I traversed I hit the others at the road block.
“Good shooting Major!”
We were closer to their lines now and shells from their artillery began to explode before and behind us. I raised the machine gun and fired at the tower with the observer. It was within range. When I ran out of ammunition I shouted, “Stop here, Sergeant Major. I will get out. Back up if you wish.”
He stopped it and then clambered up beside me. “No sir, I reckon I will have a go with this little pop gun! Let’s see if I can win a little Kewpie Doll at this here country fair!”
I clambered out of the back. The German MP34 was a solid weapon. With a thirty two cartridge magazine and a range of two hundred yards it was a handy weapon. There were half demolished houses to the left. I saw the Colonel and his men spread out. They were advancing in pairs. I saw Gordy and Hewitt act as a pair. Behind me I heard the noise of the Shermans as they moved up. I moved into the half demolished house and headed for what had been the back garden. Just then I heard the distinctive noise of German tank. I ran to the front of the house and
saw the barrel of an 88 mm as it moved from the village to the road.
“Sergeant Major O’Rourke, get the hell out of there. That is a Panther!”
The Panther was not as powerful as a Tiger but it was close. Even as the halftrack backed into one of the demolished houses the Panther’s gun fired. The halftrack behind O’Rourke’s had been abandoned. That was a mercy for the shell ploughed straight through the engine block and blew the whole vehicle into the air. The leading Sherman opened fire. They were in line and only one could fire. I saw its shell hit the glacis on the Panther. It had as much of an effect as a snowball. The German kept moving until it was in the middle of the road. The sandbags from the machine gun emplacements gave it protection for its tracks. It was, effectively, dug in. The second Sherman moved next to the first. That was their best chance. If they both fired at the same spot they had a chance of first weakening and then destroying the armour.
While Shermans distracted the Germans I left the house and ran across the open ground. The German tank was still half a mile away. I needed to be another six hundred yards closer before my little pop gun could be effective. I used the cover of the buildings and the snow to move forward. I regretted my decision not to wear my camouflage cape. The Panther fired again just as the two 76 mm Sherman guns fired. They both hit and I saw glowing metal but the Panther’s armour held. In contrast the 88 mm had hit one of the Shermans and it was already on fire. Its nickname of Ronsons was well earned. It burst into flames. I saw two of the crew bale out. The rest… I hoped the shell had killed them.
The flames and smoke obscured the last two Shermans but now the German artillery was adding their firepower to the devastation caused by the Panther. When the second Sherman was hit Colonel Devine shouted, “Fall back! Fall Back!”
I clambered back through. Sergeant Major O’Rourke had managed to back the halftrack behind the burning tanks. The Panther still fired, as did the artillery, but they were firing blind. I looked up at the sky. The scudding clouds would bring nightfall a little earlier. As I hurried back to the others I knew we would have to do something about the Panther or we would not take Stavelot.