by Griff Hosker
“Have you used a Bazooka sir?”
“No, Captain, just a PIAT and a Panzerfaust.”
“You have to be closer than fifty yards to stand a chance. General Patton reckons thirty yards is the right range.”
Colonel Devine arrived with another thirty men. I saw that some of them had Bazookas too. “You were right, Tom.”
“I take no pleasure in that, sir. I wish I had been wrong! With your permission I will go to the right flank. They only have a sergeant in command there and the Germans have sent more men than I expected.”
“Of course. I would say don’t do anything stupid but you never do. What I really mean is don’t try to be a hero all the time!”
“I never do. Come on Sergeant Barker. We will put a couple of booby traps up.” I picked up my MP 34 and hurried to the right flank. The sound of the tanks was clearer now. They were less than a mile away.
Even as we ran one of them belched flames as it fired. The tree above one of the machine guns was hit. I heard a shout of , “Heads!” as branches and part of the trunk came crashing down. The bad luck Hewitt had had was mitigiated now by the tree trunk landing just four feet in front of the machine gun. They had a little more protection.
I threw myself into the timber lined bunker. The sergeant said, “Are you joining us, sir?”
“I am indeed. I think it might get just a little hot here soon.” Laying my gun down I ran thirty yards into the woods. Sergeant Barker went twenty feet to my left. Taking two German grenades I attached a piece of cord to the two detonators and laid it between two trees. Gordy did the same. We were both fast. We had done this many times before. I ran back and dropped behind the wood. I shouted, “Sergeant Barker, I will stay by the machine gun. You join the Bazooka team.”
“Yes sir!”
The sergeant said, “Just two grenades won’t stop many Krauts, sir.”
“No, Sergeant, but it will make the others more cautious if they think we have booby trapped the area and it will tell us where they are. And, of course, the slower they are then the more chance we have of surviving.”
“Not winning, sir?”
“Survive first and then worry about winning, Sergeant. This is the S.S. we are fighting!”
I had my German machine pistol but that would be for when it became close in fighting. Until then I would use the Mauser. I lay down behind the log and rested the barrel upon it. The dark woods and the camouflage of the S.S. meant that it was hard to see them. I heard another crack from our left as the leading tank fired again. They were still using HE. That meant they had not seen the anti-tank guns. Then I spied the halftrack coming towards us.
“Sergeant Barker, have the Bazooka ready. Straight through the engine block if you please.”
“Yes sir, we will do our best won’t we boys?”
They chorused, “Sir, yes sir!”
I would leave the vehicle to the Bazooka. Turning to the Corporal next to me I said, “Wait until they are closer before you fire. Try to get the gunner of the halftrack. Use short bursts. Keep your heads down if you can. This piece of timber should stop their bullets.”
“Sir.”
I levelled the Mauser and fired at the sergeant who was leading a handful of men to the left of the halftrack. He fell and that brought the wrath of the machine gun on the halftrack upon me. The bullets began to the right of me and so I fired a second shot at the gunner. I missed him but the bullet hit the metal and ricocheted into the interior. I saw a hand rise and fall. Then I ducked as pieces of bark showered me. The whole of our line was now engaged but each of us had our own personal battle. I only knew what was happening further down the line by the sound of the guns. When I heard the crack of the 3 pounder I knew that they were firing on the tanks and the explosion which followed told me that there had been a hit. I raised my head and saw that the infantry and halftrack were now just a hundred yards from us. The halftrack was still leading the men, its machine gun chattering death,
There was a cry to my right and I knew that they had managed to hit one of my men. I fired my magazine, shot by shot at every hint of a target. The halftrack was just forty yards from us when the Bazooka fired. I was not certain if the range was right but I understood why Gordy had ordered it to be fired. I fired at the front tyre. The rocket hit. The operator had done as I had asked and the front of the half -track was lit up like a Christmas tree as the rocket hit the engine and ignited the fuel there. There must have been a leak too for the whole vehicle burst into flames. The S.S. who were around the vehicle were knocked to the ground but the rest rose and made a sudden rush for us.
The blast had taken some of the American soldiers by surprise. They stared at the burning vehicle and men. “Keep firing!”
I dropped the Mauser and opened fire with the MP 34. There was a double explosion as one of them set off the first booby trap. When the second one was set off I heard a German voice shout. “Fall back! Fall back!”
Gordy Barker shouted, “Keep pouring it into them!”
Then there was an explosion from our left. I looked down the line and saw that it was level with us. They had hit one of the anti-tank guns. I reloaded and saw that there were no live Germans before us.
“Sergeant Barker, take charge. I am going to see how things are by the road.”
“Right sir.”
I ran crouching, reloading as I did so. When I reached the road I saw that one of the anti-tank guns had been destroyed. Looking to my left I saw that the two guns had managed to destroy two Panthers before the Germans had had their revenge. There were bodies littering the cleared area behind the guns. Colonel Devine had a bloody bandage around his hand. “The boys are doing well! What I would give for a couple more of these.”
I took out my glasses. The Germans were now stalled by their own tanks. The narrow road meant that they would have to clear the trees at the side. I pointed that out to the Colonel. “They will cut down the trees on either side of the wrecked tanks. All that they need to do is get around them and then they can destroy your other gun. They know where you are.”
The Colonel looked at his watch. “It will be dark soon.”
“And that suits them. If you have mines, sir, then I would lay them as soon as it is dark.”
He shook his head, “We have none.”
“Then tonight it will get messy sir. These are desperate and ruthless men.”
“How are things over there?”
“We have beaten off their first attack. They will return after dark. Just let us know if you pull back eh sir? I wouldn’t want to be left out on a limb.”
“I will tell you; never fear.”
Getting back was harder for the Germans had set up machine guns and they were firing at our lines. I ran and dived behind a snow covered bush. It would not give me any protection but they would not be able to see me. I crawled. When I reached the machine gun my hands were frozen. Three men lay dead.
“What happened Corporal?”
“They managed to get a machine gun set up before we noticed.”
That was annoying. Then I remembered their lack of experience at this sort of thing. “We have plenty of ammunition. Keep firing short bursts at anything that moves. The rest of you, your carbines have the range. Take pot shots. They have less ammo than we do. When it becomes dark then watch out. They will close with us and make it hand to hand. Find a buddy and watch each other’s back.”
It soon became obvious that the Germans would wait until it was dark before they attacked again. I took out my grenades and placed them before me. “Everyone keep your grenades handy. Listen for noises as soon as it gets dark. From now on no talking. Use signs.”
If this was my unit then we would have a whole repertoire of signs and signals. We would have to improvise. Night seemed to come early. It became black. It was totally silent. Why could I not hear the tanks? Something was going on. I was nervous and I had done this before. I could not imagine how the young Americans were feeling.
I peer
ed into the night. The secret was to watch for changes in the darkness. Suddenly there was an almighty explosion to my left. I thought it came from behind the German lines but I could not work out what it was. I saw a fire. Then I heard shells exploding. From the glow it had to be a mile away. What was it? The distraction almost cost me men. I forced myself to look to my front. I was certain I had seen something but I could not be sure. I pulled the pin on a grenade and hurled as high as I could.
“Grenade!”
I ducked as the explosion tore through the night and I waited until the wall of air had passed over. I grabbed my MP 34 and opened fire, spraying from left to right. I was rewarded by screams and cries. I handed the machine pistol to the Pfc next to me. I gave him a magazine. “Reload. I won’t be long.”
“You aren’t going out there are you sir?”
“I need to see who we killed. Don’t worry. I’ll be back.”
I took a length of parachute cord with me as I slipped over the log. I held my Luger before me as I rolled over the log and crawled through the snow. In the distance, I glimpsed the shadows of the Germans as they scurried back to the protection of their tanks. I smelled flesh. My grenade must have exploded close to someone and burned his hair before killing him. I felt the heat from their bodies as I passed. I moved to my left where I saw an unnatural shape in the snow. When I reached it, I saw the dark mark across the middle of the camouflage cape. The American machine gun had almost cut him in two. I searched him and found one grenade. I crawled another twenty feet before I found the next body. I found a second grenade on his body. I also found parachute cord. I felt his collar. This one was a German paratrooper. This was an unholy alliance: paratroopers and S.S.
When I was a hundred yards from our lines I was in ground which was devoid of the dead. I holstered my pistol and listened. To my left I could hear the crackling of the fire as it died and the occasional crack of a rifle as the Colonel and the Germans sparred. I took one grenade and primed it. I tied the cord to the detonator and around a tree. I now had more cord than before. When I reached the next tree, I did not tie a grenade to it but wrapped the cord around the tree and headed to the next one. There I placed my second grenade. We would have some warning the next time they attacked. I slipped my dagger into my boot when I had finished cutting the cord.
I turned and began to crawl back to our lines. There was a danger that I would become disorientated and lost. I looked back to where I thought our lines where. I saw the camouflage cape with the dark lines across it and headed for it. There was now silence from the battle by the river. What were the Germans planning? I had almost reached the bodies when I caught a new smell. It was human and it was close. More than that there was breathing. Someone was alive. We have instincts we use and don’t know why or how we use them. That night my instincts saved my life. I turned and rolled to my left. The dagger plunged into the snow where my back had been.
I reached down to grab my own knife as the German raised his hand to complete the job and stick his knife in my chest. I put up my left hand. The razor-sharp edge caught the side of my hand. I ignored the spurting blood. The unshaven German had an evil grin on his face. He thought he had me. As I brought my dagger up to slash at him he recognised it.
“Kommando!”
He fended it off but, in doing so allowed my blade to slash across his arm. He was astride me and I had to remember the moves I had been taught when we had trained in Oswestry all those years ago. I had to use his own strength against him. He had his upper body across mine but my legs were free. His left hand grabbed my wrist. I began to push up. He was strong. I just held him with my left hand. When I suddenly dropped my right hand and pushed with my left he began to overbalance. I then twisted, rolled and brought my knees up. The move took him by surprise and his weight was no longer on my chest as we turned. As we did I brought my head back and head butted him. I could smell the tobacco and sweat on him. His nose erupted. He would be temporarily blinded and, as he fell back I brought up my left knee hard between his legs. He gasped his pain. I felt his left hand weaken. I began to force the dagger towards his head. His hand was bent back. It is hard to use your full strength like that and he was wounded. Inexorably the tip began to move towards him. My weight was now on him. The wound to my hand was bloody and messy but the strength was in my arms and he could not move. The end, when it came, was quick. My dagger drove through his ear and into his brain. He became limp.
Rolling from his body I began to crawl back to our lines. As my bloody hand slid through the snow I left a trail, like a bloody snail. The cold acted as a coagulant and the bleeding slowed. I stopped when I saw the black barrels of the machine guns fifty feet from me. I hissed, “Major Harsker coming in.”
I heard Gordy hiss back, “Come ahead sir. Steady as you go!”
When I climbed over the log he said, “You were out there a long time sir. We were worried.”
I held up my hand. The blood dripped. “I met a paratrooper.”
Sergeant Barker reached into his Bergen and brought out a field dressing. He used the powder to clean the wound and then put the dressing on. “Did you hear that explosion sir? It seemed too far away from the anti-tank gun to be a hit. What do you reckon it was?”
“A leaky fuel system and a spark? I have no idea really but things have gone quiet over there. I couldn’t hear any engines.”
“Do you think they have pulled out then, sir?” He finished applying the dressing.
“I would love to say yes but until it is dawn I have no idea. I laid another booby trap. We will have a little more warning the next time they come.”
The American with the Bazooka asked, “Will they come again sir?”
“This is still the fastest way home and to the rest of their tanks. This offensive may not be over but unless they can regroup we can pick them off piecemeal. We take it one day at a time. Let’s see what dawn brings.”
When I reached the machine gun the Sergeant and the gun crew looked relieved to see me. I looked at my watch. It was almost 0300 hours. What would the dawn bring? I had been back for barely twenty minutes when we discovered what the Germans had planned. My grenades went off and then the Germans began firing as they raced towards our lines. I heard the sound of 75 mm tank guns as they opened fire at the road.
“Open fire!” My order was a little redundant as every American opened fire. I used short bursts from the MP 34. This was not a skirmish line; it was a major attack. When I emptied my MP 34 I drew my Luger and emptied that. The Corporal next to me fell to the ground, hit by the German’s ferocious gunfire. I hurled a grenade, “Grenade!” It exploded just thirty feet from us. As we stood those around me took the opportunity to hurl their grenades. As I ducked below the parapet I reloaded the MP 34. I had just two magazines left.
When I rose, I sprayed the ground before me, emptying half of my magazine. To the left and right I heard the sound of guns. Smoke filled the air making it difficult to see. A German appeared before me and I fired a short burst which threw him back. I readied a grenade. I was down to my last one. A knot of men rose and ran at me, firing. Even as I threw the grenade I was aware that bullets were striking the timber below me. I dropped next to the dead Corporal. I saw that the machine gunner and his loader was also dead. The grenade ripped through the trees showering me with snow and pine. I rose with my gun, ready to fire. Before me was a line of dead Germans. There were just two privates left in our emplacement. Both were shaking.
“Reload.”
“Sir!”
“Sergeant Barker?”
“We have taken casualties but we are still here.”
“Sergeant Blair?”
“He is dead sir, Corporal Woods is in command. There are four of us left.”
“Stand to. I will check the line. Keep a good watch.” I turned to the two young soldiers, “Get the machine gun loaded and ready to fire. This may not be over.”
I changed magazines and put my last one in. I headed first to Gordy. He no
dded. He was dressing a wound. As I reached the last post I saw that Sergeant Locatelli and his men were all dead or wounded. Around them lay the bodies of the Germans they had killed, testament to their courage. “Medic!” I saw the signs of footprints. I followed them briefly and saw that they had continued south. They were heading for the river and Trois Ponts. The Germans had broken through and were behind us. I went to the Germans and kicked over a couple of bodies. Some were S.S. and some were Paratroopers. Bizarrely one was dressed in an American uniform. When I reached in and took out his dog tags I saw that he was a German Paratrooper. He must have been one of the men they had warned us of. American speaking Germans. I picked up three or four magazines. None of them had spares. They were running out of ammunition.
I ran back to Gordy, “Watch the rear. They are behind us.”
He was applying a dressing to a corporal’s head. “Sir, they nearly had us. One more attack and we are done for.”
“I know. I will head to the anti-tank guns and see how the Colonel has fared. I just can’t work out why it was just men and not the tanks too.”
Corporal Woods was also acting as a medic. I saw that there were signs here that the Germans had broken through. What I could not understand was why they had not turned and attacked from the rear. I saw that they had bulldozed their way through the men next to Corporal Woods. None were left unwounded.
When I reached the guns, I was greeted by the Colonel. I pointed behind me, “They have broken through sir. We need medics.”
He nodded, “Sergeant, see to them.”
“Did they attack here, sir?”
“They just used their tank guns. I think it was to cover.” He pointed to the river on the left. They killed the men who were there. I think they are in Trois Ponts.”
I suddenly thought about Albert and his wife. “Then we are surrounded.”
He nodded, “They will have the bridge now. We just have to wait for their tanks. You had better bring your men here. We have to stop them. This will be our last stand.”