Devil's Guard- The Complete Series Box Set

by Eric Meyer

  “How will we find the sniper?” I asked him. “He’s right, the man could be waiting outside for us.”

  “I’m sure he is outside, when he does makes himself known to us we will arrest him.”

  “Unless he shoots us first,” I muttered.

  “Quite so,” the SD man replied. “Would you ask your Scharfuhrer to arrange for the half-track to be brought near to the door of the barn and we can take this gentleman into custody.”

  “Don’t be stupid, von Betternich, you’ll never get away with it,” Stettner hissed.

  The SD man ignored him and Mundt went out to arrange for the half-track. At least I’d feel better having my platoon around me in the armoured vehicle. Wiedel spoke sternly to Vinckmann, he told the terrified NCO to use what influence he had with the men to help get us out of here. In return, he would escape being charged with the thefts and murders. His guilt or innocence was of no consequence, all that was required was his frightened cooperation. It was a masterly way to handle everything, I thought, the two security men coming here for Stettner and using his sergeant-major against him when the regiment was at its lowest ebb after a devastating battle. But the question of the real sniper still worried me. If it wasn’t Vinckmann, who the hell was it, and was he waiting outside for us? Mundt came back into the office.

  “The half-track is outside now, Sir.”

  “Thank you, Mundt.”

  “Scharfuhrer,” von Betternich said to him, “would you ask Schutze Merkel to come in here to assist us?”

  “Merkel?” Mundt looked puzzled. “You want Merkel in here?”

  “Yes, if you would.”

  I had been looking at Stettner, when the name of Merkel had been mentioned he’d gone pale. Then it clicked, of course. When our CO, Standartenfuhrer Brandt had been killed by a sniper, Der Fuhrer hadn’t been anywhere near him. The best marksman by far in our regiment was probably Merkel. I remembered the easy way he’d handled the rifle, his skill with grenades. But why?”

  “I can see the puzzlement on your face, Hoffman. But it is really quite simple, once you’ve eliminated Vinckmann as the most likely suspect. In fact, I did eliminate him as a probable suspect some time ago. He wasn’t anywhere near when your Standartenfuhrer was killed. So I checked out the background of every trained sniper attached to the Division. We were naturally interested in Merkel because of his skill as a marksman and of course the fact that he had the opportunity. He and Stettner are from the same town, which was an interesting coincidence. Apparently Merkel came across Stettner when he was a member of the Hitler Youth and Stettner was in charge of weapons training for that splendid organisation. When he found out that Merkel his protégé, had been abused by a local priest he was so enraged that he took up the case personally, and demanded that the priest be prosecuted. I believe he wanted to shoot him at one time. The church moved him out of the area and covered up the case, but from then on Merkel hated everything religious and was prepared to do anything for the man who had championed his cause, anything at all, including murder.”

  So it was Merkel, a member of my platoon. I thought of the victorious moment only hours earlier we looked to be on victorious path to Moscow. Now I knew that one of my men was a thief and a murderer. Mundt came rushing back into the office, his face grave.

  “When I told Merkel you wanted him he grabbed his weapons and ran for it, I’m sorry, he was too quick for me to stop him. Was it something important?”

  I explained quickly why we wanted him.

  “Do you want me to go after him, Sir? I can get the platoon to mount a search, perhaps Der Fuhrer would assist.” He saw our faces, the prisoner Standartenfuhrer Stettner sat at his desk enjoying our discomfort. “No, perhaps not. What do we do?”

  “Tell Voss to stay with the half-track and get one of the men in here to guard the prisoner. We’ll go out with the rest of the platoon and look for him.”

  “Right, Sir.”

  “Vinckmann, stand outside the door and don’t let anyone in here for any reason. Remember, man, your life depends on it!”

  He nodded.

  “We’ll locate him,” I said to von Betternich.

  He smiled thinly. “I hope so, good luck, Hoffman.”

  We walked out to the half-track and I asked Mundt which way Merkel had gone.

  “I last saw him running over there, towards the Red Cross tent, Sir.”

  Heide! Damn, if he put a finger on her I’d rip his guts out and hang him with them.

  “Right, bring the men and let’s go and find him. No shooting, remember, there are wounded men and nurses in there.”

  We rushed across the camp. Several Der Fuhrer troopers looked at us with curiosity but no animosity, their faces bore the deep, etched scars of defeat on them. Even though they had technically won the battle, they had lost more than half the regiment in doing it. A pyrrhic victory indeed.

  I told the men to wait outside the huge tent and I unslung my MP38 and walked in. There were lines of groaning men, nurses and medical orderlies struggling to ease the worst of their pain, a doctor moved up and down the lines rapping out orders to the nurses. A clerk was stationed just inside the tent flap with a portable field desk piled with stacks of papers.

  “I’m looking for one of my men, Schutze Merkel.”

  “Merkel? Was he the one carrying the rifle?”

  I nodded. “That’s him.”

  “He came in here and said that Obersturmfuhrer Hoffman needed to speak urgently with Nurse Heide Thalberg.”

  “Where are they now, quick, man?”

  “I’ve no idea, Sir. They left a few minutes ago, went out of the tent and turned to the left, I believe. Towards the vehicle park.”

  I rushed out. “They’re heading for the vehicle park, let’s go!”

  “They?” Mundt asked.

  “He’s got Heide, Nurse Thalberg, probably he wanted her as a hostage once he realised the game was up. I expect he’s going to try to steal a vehicle, we need to stop him!”

  We reached the compound, a Scharfuhrer was inside the guard tent talking to one of his men. He came outside when I shouted.

  “Did a trooper come through here a few minutes ago with a Red Cross nurse?”

  “Why, yes, he did, Sir, said he needed to borrow a Kubi to go out and attend to one of our officers, seriously wounded on the battlefield he said.”

  “Come on, let’s go,” I shouted at them. If the man had stopped to think for a moment, he’d have realised that they’d send a field ambulance, not a Kubelwagen to attend to a seriously wounded soldier. But he’d just come out of a hard fought battle and wasn’t thinking straight, none of this regiment were. We ran into the vehicle park just as a Kubelwagen shot out from between a wrecked half-track and an armoured car. Merkel was driving, his face wild but determined, Heide was sat next to him, cowed by the pistol that Merkel had in his hand. He lifted it as he saw us and fired two shots but both went wild. One of the men raised his machine pistol and was about to fire when I stopped him.

  “He’s got the nurse with him, man, don’t shoot unless you’re certain of your target!”

  “Sorry, Sir.”

  “Back to the half-track, we need to get after them.”

  We dashed back to our vehicle, climbed aboard and I shouted at Voss to follow the Kubi. We roared out through the camp gate, the sentries only looked at us briefly as we swept past, still too numbed to care after suffering so many losses.

  “Voss, give it everything you’ve got, the trail forks about a kilometre up ahead, I don’t want to lose them.”

  He floored the pedal and we roared along the trail, Voss took the bends at high speed but the caterpillar tracks kept the 251 stable. Too stable, we were a slow, top-heavy lightly armoured half-track, Merkel was in a Kubelwagen, though by no means a racing car it was lighter and faster than us. Except that he only had a two-wheel drive. Merkel turned his head to look at us, then left the main track to drive into the woods, obviously hoping to lose us in the trees. We
bumped and pitched after him, but he was still drawing ahead. The wood opened out into a clearing almost half a kilometre wide, he was nearly the other side and about to drive into the next patch of dense woodland when he hit a snowdrift, his wheels sank in deep and we heard him gunning the engine and slipping the clutch, trying to free the Kubi. He looked around again and saw us drawing nearer and nearer, realised that he wasn’t going to make it and dragged Heide out of the vehicle and started running across the snow and into the woods. We could see him clutching the sniper rifle as he ran. We were gaining on him fast but then he made the shelter of the woods and disappeared. Thirty seconds later we reached the spot where he’d gone into the trees and we stopped.

  “Everyone fan out, we’ll have to sweep through on foot to find them, watch for that rifle, he’s a marksman, remember.”

  I took the lead in the middle of our line, there were thirteen of us, six on either side with me in the middle. I shivered slightly, it was an unlucky number, but I dismissed the thought, there was only one person who was going to suffer bad luck today, and that was Merkel. I turned to Mundt who was the next man to my right.

  “Watch out for Heide, remind the others not to shoot if there is any risk to her.”

  He nodded and passed it on to the next man. I told the man to my left who passed it on. We trudged through the wood, moving from tree to tree, trying to make best use of the cover. At every step I cringed, waiting for the crack of a rifle shot, for the moment when a bullet hit me. Would it all end here, killed by a German bullet from a German gun fired by a German soldier? What a useless waste, after all my plans for a glorious military career, killed by a criminal in a cold Ukrainian wood. I cursed the policemen for getting me into this, then there was a vicious ‘crack’ and I felt a tug on the sleeve of my tunic as a bullet snapped past, ripping the cloth and grazing my skin.

  “Down!” I shouted to the men, but they didn’t need my warning, they’d gone to ground instantly, crouched in the snow behind the nearest trees. Mundt crawled over to me, keeping behind cover. “I could crawl around to the flank and try and take him that way?” he suggested.

  “That’s our normal tactic, Scharfuhrer, he’ll be waiting for it. We need to try and get nearer to him and see if he makes a mistake. Let’s go forward some more, tell the men to keep low.”

  He grinned. “No need for that, none of them are looking to get shot, especially by a shit like Merkel.”

  We crawled forward to the next line of trees. I peered around the trunk and a bullet lashed into the bark of the tree, I snatched my head back. We were close, very close. I looked around for Mundt, he was only two metres away, hiding behind the next tree.

  “I’m going to try and negotiate with him to distract him, try and flank him, if you get a clear shot, you know what to do.”

  He nodded. “I’ll do it, but are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

  “Not really, but I’ve got to do something, the only way we can get at him is to distract him.”

  “Rather you than me, Sir. Good luck.”

  It wasn’t the most encouraging remark I’d heard that day, but I had to do something. I shouted out to Merkel.

  “We need to talk, Dieter, how can we resolve this? If you give up the girl we’ll let you get away.”

  The reply came back immediately. “You must be joking, Hoffman. As soon as I let the girl go, you’ll rush me and shoot me.”

  “Let me come forward and we’ll talk about it, Merkel. I’ll be unarmed.”

  There was a silence for a few moments. Then he shouted back, “Ok, come forward, slowly. If I see a gun in your hand I shoot the girl!”

  I put down my MP38 in the snow, took out my Walther, and tucked it into the rear of the waistband of my trousers. My combat knife went into my boot, I needed some kind of an edge with which to deal with him.

  “I’m coming out now, Merkel, no tricks, I’ll show you my hands.”

  I walked out into the open, my heart thumping, and walked towards him. I advanced twenty metres and then saw him ahead of me, kneeling down in the gap between two trees whose lower branches formed a V shape, in which he had rested his rifle. It was a perfect sniper stand, offering both concealment and a support for accurate shooting. I couldn’t see Heide.

  “Where’s the nurse, Merkel, has she been hurt?”

  “Worried about your girlfriend, Hoffman? She’s fine, she’s lying on the ground by here. I’ve got my pistol handy, if your men try to rush me she gets it, understand?”

  “Yes. Now how can we settle this, Merkel? You want to get away. We want the nurse. If you wish I’ll give you the half-track, you’ll have no trouble getting through the forest in that.”

  I waited for half a minute while he considered my offer. Finally, he agreed.

  “Pull all of your men back to the vehicle, no tricks. All of you lay down your weapons and stand with your hands up. I’ll come to you and take the half-track and leave the girl.”

  “Agreed, we’ll do as you say. Don’t do anything stupid, we can all get out of this alive.”

  He didn’t answer and I called out for the men to return to the vehicle. We didn’t hide behind cover, we just walked back in the open to show that we would keep our side of the bargain.

  “Men, put your weapons on the ground where Merkel can see them and we’ll stand to one side with our hands up, I don’t want anyone doing anything stupid.”

  They looked uneasily at one another but finally put their machine pistols in the snow. Then we all raised our hands. Merkel stepped out from behind a tree, pushing Heide in front of him, a pistol pushed into her back. He looked around suspiciously.

  “How much fuel is in the half-track?”

  “I believe it’s about half full.”

  He sneered. “Excellent, thank you, Obersturmfuhrer. He looked at the platoon. His expression was crazy, his eyes wide and staring, he uniform was even more dishevelled than usual, he’d crumbled in minutes from being one of my troopers to a crazed felon.

  “I’ve got no quarrel with you men, so I’m going to leave you alone. But you, Hoffman, you had to stick your nose into our business, didn’t you? It was only those fuckers from the church, after all. They’re a bunch of perverts, you know that?”

  I nodded tiredly. “Yes, some of them are, I know that. But not all. Let the girl go, Merkel.”

  He ignored me. “It was worth taking their stupid treasures to get back at them, you know. They abuse little boys but when it comes to losing their precious toys, they get upset. They deserved to lose them, you know, deserved all of it!”

  His voice had risen to a shout, spittle was coming out of his mouth.

  “You don’t know what they did to me, do you?”

  “Yes, I do know, and it was terrible. But those senior officers you killed didn’t deserve to die because of it.”

  “Didn’t they?” he laughed hysterically. “You don’t know anything, anything at all. They were all in on it, you didn’t know that, did you? Even Brandt, our own commanding officer, he was part of the robberies.”

  “Brandt, so why did you kill him?”

  “It was because of Stettner, he killed one of the monks when we stole that crucifix, Brandt called him a murderer and said he was going to report him. He contacted the other officers involved to get their support, he wanted to make a deal with the SD to hand over Stettner in return for immunity from prosecution. They’d all agreed, the only way was to silence them.”

  I was astonished that the conspiracy went so high. I’d joined the SS on a wave of enthusiasm, believing the newsreels and the glossy recruiting banners. They had given the impression that we would be the elite, a new breed of chivalrous warriors, tough fighters but honest and loyal, and the senior officers were regarded as shining examples for the men to follow. SS officers were famous for leading their men into battle from the front, they were known for their courage and sacrifice. All that lay in ruins, now they would be known for being little more than thieves, looters and murder
ers. It seemed that the only difference between the SS and other branches of the military was that when they went crooked, they did it in a more brutal fashion. To kill their own officers during such a desperate campaign was unthinkable, despicable, leaving men leaderless and confused at a time when they were desperately needed to fight the seemingly limitless Soviet hordes. Merkel was speaking again.

  “I’ll take that half-track now, Hoffman. Tell your men to move to one side.”

  I ordered them to move back. He grinned and pushed Heide to the ground where she lay sprawled in the snow. “Now, Hoffman, I’ll be leaving you. Just one thing before I go, I’m going to give you what’s coming to you.”

  So that was it. I should have realised.

  “What’s that, Merkel?”

  “A bullet, Herr Obersturmfuhrer. It’s what you deserve for wrecking everything. Kneel down in the snow.”

  “No. If you’re going to kill me, you can do it standing up and look me in the eyes.”

  He leered at me. “Brave to the end, eh? Fair enough,” he stepped forward.

  “This is what happens to officers who stick their noses into other people’s business,” he said to the platoon. Then he looked puzzled. “Where’s Mundt?”

  “I’m here, Merkel.”

  He whirled around and Mundt stepped out from behind the tree with his machine pistol raised. He pulled the trigger and emptied the clip into Merkel who dropped his pistol as he was flung to lie in the snow, now streaked with the bright red blood that flowed from his broken body. Heide got to her feet and ran to me and I held her in my arms.

  “Is it over, Jurgen?”

  “Not quite, I’m afraid, we need to get back to Der Fuhrer’s HQ. I suspect that von Betternich and Wiedel may need us.”

  We climbed into the half-track and Voss drove rapidly back to the camp. We left Merkel’s body at the side of the wood, nobody wanting to be soiled by touching the corpse of one who had murdered his own comrades. Heide sat next to me on the front seat.

  “Are you expecting trouble at the camp?”