by Gee, Colin
Again, marching feet, this time just two sets of boots, growing closer, and with that closeness a growing sense of foreboding swept over Zhukov.
The NKVD Colonel turned to look and clicked to attention.
“Comrade Marshal, the prisoners are secure. The command is yours.”
“Thank you, Comrade Polkovnik.
Zhukov recognised the voice immediately, as did Malinin.
Konev stepped into the room, the expression bringing with it smugness and satisfaction on an epic scale.
“Ah, Comrade Zhukov.”
He did not deign to recognise Malinin.
“Before you go, what other disasters have you left me to repair, eh?”
He picked up the notes the two had been working on, and quickly skimmed them.
“Too little, too late, Comrade. Your time has now passed.”
Standing back, he nodded at the NKVD Colonel, who swept the two men out of the room, and away to await a flight back to Moscow.
When eating an elephant, take one bite at a time.
Creighton Abrams
Chapter 102 - THE SILVERBIRDS
2349hrs, Tuesday, 30th October 1945, Headquarters, Group ‘Normandie’, Unterlinden Museum Building, Colmar, Alsace.
It was a piece of theatre, worthy of one of Hollywood’s best, and, even though he said so himself, Georges de Walle thought it brilliant.
‘The Moonlight Sonata.’
The headquarters was silent and dark, the storm having passed as quickly as it came, the disappearance of the clouds now revealing the night sky in all its glory. The only illumination in the building was a reading lamp here and there, sufficient to track a safe path through the deserted desks and empty chairs, but not enough to overcome the artificial tension created by the music.
Guards were at a normal level around the headquarters, but not inside the building, where all was left quiet, save for those that had a part to play in the drama.
The visitor showed his papers for the third and final time and entered the building, immediately feeling his senses prick, roused by the semi-darkness, and the absence of activity.
And the music.
The gentle, yet sinister tones, of Beethoven’s work permeated the senses, the mournful piano bringing different visions to those who could hear.
Kowalski moved carefully towards his goal, the door ajar, permitting a ray of light to escape, illuminating his path to Knocke’s office, as the famous sonata moved into its second phase.
He pushed the door open, noting the figure of Knocke stood with his back to the door, framed in the window, the moonlight picking out the edges of the silent figure.
His senses were screaming, but he had a job to do.
“Come in, Comrade Kowalski, come in.”
Knocke turned smartly and indicated the chair laid out for the purpose, relaxing into his own seat, flicking a Colibri lighter into life, and lighting a cigarette, his face starkly illuminated by the flames.
Kowalski’s heart thumped in his chest as he looked at the visage.
An emotionless face.
A sinister face.
A dangerous face.
In that face, Kowalski saw his end, and he knew something had gone wrong.
None the less, he determined to play the game to its bitter end.
“Knocke, you failed to assist the Soviet forces in the Alsace. My information is that you actively participated in their destruction.”
Knocke’s face remained impassive as Kowalski waited for some reaction.
“You know what this could mean? Your wife and your children? Do they mean nothing to you?”
Maybe it was the music, or possibly the moonlight, or even Kowalski’s imagination, but something in Knocke’s face made him suddenly afraid.
“My wife? My children? They mean everything to me, or, in my wife’s case, meant everything to me.”
The agent was confused.
“You don’t know, of that I am sure, otherwise you would not be here, risking your neck for your masters.”
Knocke opened the drawer to his right and selected a photograph.
“Kowalski, or whatever your name is, my wife was killed by the NKVD on October the 5th.”
Kowalski knew he was a dead man walking.
“This picture was taken last Sunday.”
The Legion officer flicked the photograph across the desk, where it came to rest perfectly, the image loud and clear, taunting ‘Leopard’ with its message of defiance.
Stood in front of the Unterlinden Museum was a family group. In the middle was Knocke, resplendent in his mixed uniform, French insignia and German medals comfortably mounted on a mix of uniform. Either side of him were two girls, young women, with their father’s looks, and their father’s eyes.
‘I have been played for an idiot!’
The sonata drew to a close, its soft tones now not in keeping with the desperation that Kowalski felt.
“So, Herr Knocke, what now?”
The music stopped, the sound of the needle scratching constantly on the final circuit now became as threatening and sinister as the sonata had been, although unintentionally.
The tension grew, the scratching all invasive.
It stopped abruptly as De Walle lifted the arm off the record.
Kowalski jumped as the Frenchman’s voice broke the spell.
“What happens now is that you work for us, Sergey Andreyevich Kovelskin. And if you do what is demanded of you,” De Walle paused for effect, “Well, then you will get to go home and see Valeria and your son, Igor, when the war is over.”
Shocked he may be, but the fact that the Frenchman knew specifics made his senses light off further.
De Walle knew he had his man, and nodded to his left.
Emerging from the shadows came Anne-Marie de Valois.
She placed a picture in front of the GRU agent, one he had seen before, of people he knew, and loved.
To another listener, her soft tones would have been soothing, possibly arousing.
To Kovelskin, they were the bitter gloat of a Harpy, cutting straight to his heart.
“Valeria and your son say hello.”
Back in his jeep, Kovelskin sat in the front seat, as his driver had been ordered to take some boxes of important documents back to the headquarters, filling the back of the vehicle. He settled into silent thought, his commitment to the Motherland struggling with his commitment to his family.
Indeed, for the first time, he had to separate the two into different entities, knowing that to act in favour of one was to damage the other.
Noticing the driver’s concerned look, he tried to smile, but found the act tested his powers of resilience.
“Is there something wrong, Sir?”
“Not really, Corporal, thank you.”
Under the continuing scrutiny, Kovelskin shrugged, indicating that feminine intuition was indeed correct.
“Sir, do we need to get back to headquarters quickly, or shall I take the long route?”
The Major pondered that for a moment.
“Don’t you have a date with soldier boy Logan tonight, Corporal?”
Gisela Jourdan made her play.
“Captain Logan let me down, Sir. I had promised to make him a meal in my quarters.”
Leaning across to add to the drama, Jourdan spoke softly, and in a voice guaranteed to arouse sexual interest in a corpse.
“I arranged for fresh meat and vegetables, and a bottle of Moselle too,” her foot came off the accelerator for the slightest of moments as she leant further over, “And my roommate is away for the night.”
The subtle scent of the woman, the softness and tone of her words, the closeness of her body, collectively launched an assault on Kovelskin’s senses.
“Such a shame to waste it all, Major.”
‘I need the escape of a woman’s body.’
“True enough, Corporal. If that is an invitation, it is one I accept. Thank you.”
At eight o’clock
precisely, Gisela Jourdan drained the last of the second bottle of Moselle, one that had arrived with the Major.
They had rutted like wild animals until about an hour ago, when the last of four orgasms had sent Kovelskin into a deep sleep.
She had experienced two herself, and was glad her orders had now taken her down this path.
Deciding on a cigarette, instead of toast, for breakfast, Jourdan pondered the recent events.
Everything seemed fine, except for her nagging concern over one small matter.
The man had been offered a choice between his country and his family, and within a few hours, had betrayed his family with very little enticement.
That was a concern she shared when next she reported to the telephone contact known as ‘Captain Logan’, and one that he subsequently shared by a number of people with the OSS.
Europe was in darkness, in some places silent, in others the business of dying continued, although on a smaller scale, as the armies mainly drew back from each other.
Security at the Dutch airfield of Maaldrift was airtight, as the first of the aircraft made its approach.
At the same time as the tones of the ‘Moonlight Sonata’ played centre stage to the entrapment and subversion of Major Kowalski, the arrival of the bombers took place. The music would have been an eminently suitable backing to the arrival of the new aircraft, the latest boost to the Allied arsenal in Europe.
Each one came in alone, each too precious to risk to the vagaries of night air co-operation missions.
Deliberately timed at ten minutes apart, it took nearly two hours for the dozen aircraft to arrive, a further hour for them to be secreted away around the newly refurbished airfield, hidden from prying eyes in secure, but disguised buildings, built for the purpose.
Sergeant Riley, late of the Grenadier Guards, but now serving in a special duty company, grizzled to his comrades.
“I’m fucking cold.”
A Welsh Corporal, Jones, another guardsman on light duties following injuries, could only agree.
“It’s brass monkeys, so it is, Sergeant, brass monkeys!”
Blowing on his hands, Riley watched enviously, as the last of the big planes disappeared into a hillock that wasn’t a hillock, the disguised doors closing on what was obviously a warm interior.
“So what the fuck was the fuss about, eh? Just another load of brylcreams arriving to eat all the fucking bacon, eh?”
Jones spoke with conviction.
“It’s special they are, Sergeant. All silver and huge.”
Riley spat in disgust.
“They all think they’re special, Taff, the fucking lot of ‘em.”
“Sergeant.”
The Grenadier guard looked down at the boy, his helmet almost sinking him into the collar of his tunic.
Guardsman Joseph Newton was eighteen and a half, and had not yet experienced any of the horrors that war had to offer.
“Did I not say speak when you are spoken to, Young Joe?”
Riley wondered if he were going soft, but he had a special affection for the young lad, keen as mustard, always with his head in the manuals.
“Sergeant, they are special, honestly.”
Both NCO’s knew better than to argue.
“OK, son, what are they then? Fortresses? Liberators?”
Riley dried up, as he exhausted his knowledge of US four engine bombers.
“No Sergeant. They’re B29’s, and they can fly higher and further than anything else in the world.”
And that night, the first snows of winter fell.
This is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.
List of figures
Fig #51 - European locations of ‘Stalemate’.
Fig #52 - Junction of Routes 317 & 323, near Wolfegg, Germany.
Fig #53 - Defensive positions, junction of Routes 317 & 323, near Wolfegg, Germany.
Fig #54 - 1000hrs, The Brahmsee Gap, Germany.
Fig #55 - Soviet developing attack on the Brahmsee Gap, Germany.
Fig #56 - The Argen River Crossings, Germany.
Fig #57- Soviet assault on the Argen River, Germany.
Fig #58 - Argen River Assault - Soviet location codenames.
Fig #59 - Soviet developed attack, the Argen River, Germany.
Fig #60 - The situation at 1400hrs, Sittard-Geleen, Holland.
Fig #61 - Soviet Assault developments, Sittard-Geleen, Holland.
Fig #62 - Sittard-Geleen. The Breakout.
Fig #63 - The Locations of Operation Thermopylae, Alsace.
Fig #64 - The Aubach River, south of Ebersheim, Alsace.
Fig #65 - Trap on the Aubach River, south of Ebersheim, Alsace.
Fig #66 - The ambush of Soviet 19th Army, Operation Thermopylae, Alsace.
Fig #67 - The Battleground, Barnstorf, Germany.
Fig #68 - First Assault, Bloody Barnstorf.
Fig #69 - Immolation, Bloody Barnstorf.
Fig #70 - The Allied Nations.
Fig #71 - Rear cover of ‘Stalemate’.
Bibliography
Rosignoli, Guido
The Allied Forces in Italy 1943-45
ISBN 0-7153-92123
Kleinfeld & Tambs, Gerald R & Lewis A
Hitler’s Spanish Legion - The Blue Division in Russia
ISBN 0-9767380-8-2
Delaforce, Patrick
The Black Bull - From Normandy to the Baltic with the 11th Armoured Division
ISBN 0-75370-350-5
Taprell-Dorling, H
Ribbons and Medals
SBN 0-540-07120-X
Pettibone, Charles D
The Organisation and Order of Battle of Militaries in World War II
Volume V - Book B, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
ISBN 978-1-4269-0281-9
Pettibone, Charles D
The Organisation and Order of Battle of Militaries in World War II
Volume V - Book A, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
ISBN 978-1-4269-2551-0
Pettibone, Charles D
The Organisation and Order of Battle of Militaries in World War II
Volume VI - Italy and France, Including the Neutral Conutries of San Marino, Vatican City [Holy See], Andorra and Monaco
ISBN 978-1-4269-4633-2
Pettibone, Charles D
The Organisation and Order of Battle of Militaries in World War II
Volume II - The British Commonwealth
ISBN 978-1-4120-8567-5
Chamberlain & Doyle, Peter & Hilary L
Encyclopedia of German Tanks in World War Two
ISBN 0-85368-202-X
Chamberlain & Ellis, Peter & Chris
British and American Tanks of World War Two
ISBN 0-85368-033-7
Dollinger, Hans
The Decline and fall of Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan
ISBN 0-517-013134
Zaloga & Grandsen, Steven J & James
Soviet Tanks and Combat Vehicles of World War Two
ISBN 0-85368-606-8
Hogg, Ian V
The Encyclopedia of Infantry Weapons of World War II
ISBN 0-85368-281-X
Hogg, Ian V
British & American Artillery of World War 2
ISBN 0-85368-242-9
Hogg, Ian V
German Artillery of World War Two
ISBN 0-88254-311-3
Bellis, Malcolm A
Divisions of the British Army 1939-45
ISBN 0-9512126-0-5
Bellis, Malcolm A
Brigades of the British Army 1939-45
ISBN 0-9512126-1-3
Rottman, Gordon L
FUBAR, Soldier Slang of World War II
ISBN 978-1-84908-137-5
Glossary
.30cal machine-gun
Standard US medium machine-gun.
.45 M1911 automatic
US automatic handgun
.50 cal
Standard US heavy machine-gun.
105mm Flak
Gun
Next model up from the dreaded 88mm, these were sometimes pressed into a ground role in the final days.
105mm LeFH
German light howitzer, highly efficient design that was exported all over Europe.
128mm Pak 44
German late war heavy anti-tank gun, also mounted on the JagdTiger and Maus. Long-range performance would have made this a superb tank killer but it only appeared in limited numbers.
2" Mortar
British light mortar.
39th Kingdom
See Kingdom39
50mm Pak 38
German 50mm anti-tank gun introduced in 1941. Rapidly outclassed, it remained in service until the end of the war, life extended by upgrades in ammunition.
6-pounder AT gun
British 57mm anti-tank gun, outclassed at the end of WW2, except when issued with HV ammunition.
6x6 truck
Three axle, 6 wheel truck.
Achgelis
The Focke-Achgelis Fa223, also known as the Dragon. One of the first helicopters.
Achilles
British version of the M-10 that carried the high velocity 17-pdr gun.
Addendum F
Transfer of German captured equipment to Japanese to increase their firepower and reduce logistical strain on Soviets
Adin
In Russian, the number one.
Alkonost
Creature from Russian folklore with the body of a bird and the head of a beautiful woman.
Anschluss
The 1938 occupation and Annexation of Austria by Germany.
Anthrax Bombs
Factual Japanese weapons, believed used against the Chinese by Unit 731. Both the US and Britain carried their own tests on the same weapon.