Hausser glanced round to the stairs, nodding to the on-looking Tatu and Petru, then he lunged forward into the room. As he reached the Russian infantryman, Hausser kicked the rifle out of his reach, the man’s fingers just touching the weapon, a whine of frustration coming from the man’s lips.
Tatu and Petru entered the room behind him, Tatu brandishing his PPSH submachine gun and running to the tunnel opening, jumping over the broken wood and scattered supplies. He pointed the weapon menacingly down the passageway, straining his eyes to stare into the darkness.
Hausser turned, indicating to the Romanian behind Petru, ‘Get a couple of soldiers down here to guard the tunnel entrance. Bring Adel to look our prisoner over, see what we can do for him. Find out if there are any casualties upstairs.’ The soldier nodded solemnly, turning and climbing the stairs from the basement. Turning to Tatu, Hausser saw the Romanian quartermaster nod as an indication he understood to watch the opening.
Hausser cautiously bent down to the moaning Russian, the man’s hand over his face as he lay on his side, his spirit seeming broken. Leaning forward, Hausser nudged the man’s uninjured shoulder, speaking softly in Russian, his voice urgent, ‘You are now our prisoner…where does this tunnel lead to?’
The Russian soldier’s frame froze, his surprise at hearing his language apparent. Slowly his hand moved from his face as he cautiously looked up at Hausser, his eyes widening as he began to recognise the German officer, ‘Y-You again!’ He moaned in contempt, his face strained due to the extreme pain in his shoulder.
Hausser’s eyes widened, glancing up and down the Russian’s body, checking for further injury. As his face moved back to the man’s face, a flicker of recognition went through his eyes, the Russian’s face covered in dirt, ‘The captain from the fishing lodge? But how?’
The Russian slowly rolled over onto his back, gasping in agony, his voice shaking, ‘F-Fate certainly has an evil sense of humour…’ He lay on his back, tears in his eyes, ‘I-I never thought you would even get to the river, let alone this far…’ He winced as jabbing pain darted through his shoulder.
Hausser narrowed his eyes at the man’s pain, looking at the deep shoulder wound, ‘We have a medic, I will get him to look at your wound.’ He turned to Petru, ‘Go and see what is keeping them, I need this man to survive!’
Petru nodded startled, turning and walking to the stairs, stopping at the foot of the staircase, seeing the Hungarian beginning to descend from the top step, ‘Adel is here, Herr Leutnant.’ Boots could be heard on the wooden steps leading to the basement, Adel turned the corner and moved towards the injured Russian. Behind him, a Romanian soldier carrying two lanterns walked into the basement room.
Hausser bent further over the wounded soldier, looking into his face, ‘I am Leutnant Hausser, Herr Hauptmann.’
The Russian opened his eyes slightly in surprise, ‘I-I am only a private now…they stripped me of my rank when I lost the fishing lodge to you and your men…I am in a penal unit.’
Hausser shook his head slowly, a grim smile forming on his face, ‘Well as far as I am aware, you are a captured captain in a private’s uniform, therefore entitled to some additional comforts…not that we have many.’
Adel bent down next to the man, concern on his face. He glanced at Hausser, his expression grim, ‘It is a deep wound, Herr Leutnant…I will see what I can do.’ Turning to the Romanian soldier who stood next to him, he looked up, ‘Get me some water and bandages…if there are no bandages, just get cloth. We need to stop the bleeding.’
The Romanian soldier nodded, running to the stairs.
Tatu grunted in impatience, ‘Herr Leutnant, what shall we do about the tunnel?’
Hausser looked up, realising he was concentrating too much on the wounded man, ‘See how well built it is, can we blow the supports, collapse it?’ He slowly rose, grasping his MP40 and advancing cautiously towards the opening, ‘The least we will do is place some traps, have we any AP mines?’
Tatu shook his head, ‘I don’t think so Haus…., Herr Leutnant.’
Private Medvedev gasped as the Hungarian pulled his shoulder upwards, placing a bag of supplies underneath it. The Russian struggling to speak, understanding their concern, if not the words, ‘Th-they will probably not be back for a while, they are terrified. Unless the commissar forces them, that is.’
Hausser turned pointing at the Russian, ‘Can we move him?’
Adel glanced towards Hausser, shaking his head dismissively, ‘Not upstairs until he is bandaged.’
Petru interrupted, moving forward and bending to help the injured Russian, ‘I will move him into the next room.’
Hausser nodded, ‘Good, I don’t want him or Adel getting hit by some stray fire from the tunnel.’ He glanced across at Tatu, indicating to him to proceed with a jerk of his head. Then he turned back to Petru, seeing the Romanian lift the wounded Russian from the debris on the floor, ‘Get a couple of men to move the bodies outside too, Petru.’ Seeing the Romanian nod his understanding as he supported the Russian, Adel pressing supply bags against the wounded man’s shoulder from either side.
Tatu moved forward cautiously, his boots gingerly stepping onto the makeshift wooden planks on the floor of the tunnel, his frustrated voice a whisper, ‘I seem to be spending most of this war underground now…’ He slowly stepped over the outstretched legs of the corpse in the tunnel.
Hausser grinned fleetingly, hissing, ‘Shut up, you old fool and check the supports.’
Tatu shook his head, moving slowly into the tunnel, cautiously pointing his submachine gun before him into the darkness. Reaching the first support pillar, he grasped it, realising it was a heavy rough wooden beam, stretching up to the ceiling of the tunnel, with further wooden beams at angles to support the wood of the roof above. The ceiling and walls were panelled with thick planks, preventing the frozen earth on the other side them from falling into the passageway.
Tatu turned his head, hissing back towards the room behind, ‘This was built recently, probably in the last few months, Hausser. It should be relatively easy to collapse the tunnel with explosives, perhaps even with grenades behind the supports.’
Hausser nodded thoughtfully behind him at the tunnel entrance, ‘Good, let’s ring the major for an engineer just in case…in the meantime we will try and blow these supports.’ He turned, indicating to a Romanian soldier that had just appeared at the foot of the stairs, ‘Bring a couple of men. Get Meino to come with twelve grenades and then move the remaining supplies upstairs.’ The man nodded grimly, disappearing as he climbed the staircase again. Looking back into the darkness of the tunnel, Hausser could just see Tatu moving in the gloom, ‘Best come back my friend, we will guard the opening until there is a chance to blow the supports.’
Tatu backed slowly towards the entrance of the tunnel, assuming a position on the left side, his submachine gun pointing into the opening. Nodding to Hausser, he whispered across the opening to him, ‘Meino and I will place the grenades further into the tunnel. That will clear the building foundations, then if the ground opens above we can use the machine guns on the first floor to cover the entrance.’
Hausser nodded, ‘Good that should create a better defence.’ He glanced round as two German soldiers entered the basement, one still wearing a dirty and dishevelled military police uniform. He turned towards them, ‘Take as many of the remaining supplies upstairs, we may still have a good meal yet once Petru cooks for us.’ He grinned, glancing back and seeing Tatu shake his head.
As the two soldiers began picking up some of the tins and small supply bags scattered across the basement floor, further boots on the wooden staircase behind them caused Hausser to glance round again. Seeing Meino emerge into the dim light carrying a small satchel, he smiled briefly, ‘Over here, Meino. Let’s see if these grenades can bring this tunnel down.’
The Croatian’s eyes widened as he saw the scattered supplies on the floor, then the dark tunnel opening behind Tatu and Hausser. He nodded, movin
g forward towards them, averting his eyes as he stepped over one of the bodies, lifting the strap of the satchel over his shoulder he retrieved a lantern from the floor, his MP40 submachine gun held in his other hand.
As the Croatian approached, Hausser moved forward at a crouch into the tunnel, slipping along the right side, his submachine gun before him. Tatu moved in behind him, along the left, the light from the lantern Meino was carrying casting shadows across the tunnel walls and ceiling from the support beams.
After about twenty metres, the tunnel bent slightly to the left. Hausser stopped, looking at the beams on the bend and nodding to Tatu, whispering, ‘Would this be a good place?’
Tatu nodded as Meino joined them, the Croatian studying the support beams on either side. Lowering himself, he slipped the satchel from his shoulder, and opened the flap of the bag, delving inside for the grenades. Meino looked up, seeing Hausser advance further round the bend, ‘I will place six grenades behind each support, three on either side. We attach twine to the primers, then get back as far as we can before pulling them. Understand?’
Hausser glanced back, nodding. Tatu leant forward receiving two stick grenades from Meino. Unscrewing the bases, he tied the primer cable together from the base of the grenades and wedged them behind the support beam to his left. Meino repeated the action on the right, handing Tatu an additional grenade, ‘Place this one on the bottom, the weight from above should add to the explosion then.’
Tatu nodded, following the instruction. The next support beams were approximately one metre further forward from the previous two, the additional supports added to strengthen the corner. Replicating their previous placements, Meino handed Tatu two rolls of twine from his tunic pocket, holding the ends of the cord, whispering, ‘Unroll these back to the basement. Once you are there, whisper to me, I will attach them. Then we retreat and detonate the grenades from the room.’ His eyebrows rose expectantly.
Tatu nodded slowly indicating he understood, running his hand nervously across his moustache, ‘I don’t like explosives.’
Meino grinned, ‘Neither do the Russians…now go!’ He rolled the twine around his boot as Tatu retreated backwards, the cord beginning to extend along the tunnel.
After several seconds he heard a hiss from the basement from Tatu, ‘There is no more cord, is that enough?’
Meino looked down, checking the amount of cord around his boot in the dim light, ‘Yes.’ Turning to look at Hausser further along the darkened tunnel, ‘Time to go, Herr Leutnant.’
Hausser backed towards him, staring into the darkness. As the two men drew level, he turned to Meino, ‘Will the explosion be instant?’
The Croatian shook his head, ‘No, I will let the timers do the job for us, in case there is a problem.’
Hausser nodded, watching the soldier tie the ends of the twine onto the primer cords, occasionally glancing cautiously further into the tunnel to check it was clear. As Meino finished tying the cord to all the grenades, he looked into the Leutnant’s face, ‘Let’s go, and don’t stand on the cord!’
Hausser nodded, impressed with the Croatian’s workmanship, both soldiers slowly backing down the tunnel, Meino picking up the lantern as they passed it. Slowly and carefully they stepped backwards along the dark passageway, cautious of stepping on the twine.
Emerging back into the basement, Hausser turned to see the bodies and most of the supplies had been removed. Meino carefully took the twine from Tatu, turning to the other two, ‘Everyone out of this room please, I will do this.’ The Romanian soldier behind them slowly retreated, his eyes widening in excitement.
Hausser and Tatu nodded, backing away from the tunnel opening. Reaching the wall of the room, they moved behind it, sheltering on the stairs, hearing the wounded Russian groan in the room behind them. Hausser turned, hissing across the basement into the next room, ‘There will be an explosion shortly, brace yourselves.’
Adel replied, sighing, ‘Yes, Herr Leutnant. Not sure if our prisoner will hear it clearly, he has drifted unconscious with the pain.’
Hausser glanced back into the room, seeing Meino move to the left side of the tunnel opening, the end of the twine in his hands. The Croatian turned to look at him, his eyebrows raised, ‘Ready?’
Hausser nodded, slowly retreating behind the wall, his breath held. Then he heard boots on the cement floor of the room as Meino lurched towards them, the Croatian running past into the next room.
There was a massive blast, the sound heightened in the enclosed space of the basement, then a deep rumble. Two smaller muffled explosions followed, a dust cloud billowing across the room and engulfing the soldiers on the stairs and in the room beside them. Then there was silence.
Tatu and Hausser coughed the dust from their mouths and throat, hearing some coughing in the room beside them. Slowly Hausser stepped cautiously down onto the concrete floor on the basement, glancing into the dust filled room.
He strained his eyes to see through the dust clouds as the particles slowly fell to the concrete floor. Moving forward slowly, he bent down and picked up a lantern, approaching the dark opening on the wall of the basement. Then his eyes widened, a grin forming across his face as he saw the blockage further down the tunnel, the frozen earth and wooden beams having imploded into the passageway. The tunnel now sealed with debris.
Chapter Fifty Five: Recoil.
As the morning light spread across the sky, the Austrian sniper had lain motionless behind his tarpaulin cover. The cold breeze from the Volga enveloping him in the gathering light, he had slowly moved his blankets around him, his inaction adding to the cold in his muscles. Shell bursts and rifle cracks echoed across the landscape from north and south, motivating him further, the sounds the perfect camouflage for his hunt.
Determining he would remain in the destroyed machine shop roof for most of the morning, he had scanned any possible target points through the telescopic sight on his Kar 98 rifle. As the dawn had arrived, he had noticed some of the Russian soldiers in the distance moving amongst their defences, but decided to hunt his ultimate prize, the Russian snipers, before targeting simple infantrymen. Smoke rose from some positions, the sign of previous shelling or smouldering combustible remains.
Scanning the broken landscape before him, he had squinted through the sight as he investigated possible hiding places for any adversaries. He had smiled to himself as he saw one possible spot, even thinking he may have adopted it himself had the roles been reversed, a faint smile spreading across his face as he saw a slight glint in the morning light from beneath the destroyed lorry.
The damaged vehicle had been abandoned, the driver killed by shell fragments at the explosion before the lorry as he had driven the vehicle towards the river, desperately trying to escape the advancing German army some months earlier. Lunging into the shell crater, the vehicle had turned onto its side, the dead driver lying in the vehicle cab for the last three months, his body initially decaying before the winter frosts had set in.
A small gap between the edge of the crater and the underneath of the lorry had remained, the inexperienced Russian sniper adding obstacles around the opening as protection. The Austrian had smiled as he realised the man’s one mistake…one small gap had been filled by a crate, the wooden box probably having fallen from the vehicle. The position was used by snipers and forward artillery observers, the occupants becoming complacent with the position, the Austrian considered.
Having studied the base of the vehicle and the neatly placed obstacles around it, he considered the items were too neatly placed in the surrounding maelstrom of destruction. Seeing shadows in the small gap between the vehicle and the shell crater, he determined the position was now occupied.
He leant slightly forward, his eye moving closer to the end of the telescopic sight. Licking his lips, his finger extended towards the trigger, aiming he rifle just above and to the right of the slight gap between the crate and broken cement section from the pavement. His experience telling him this would compensate
for the distance and slight breeze.
He lowered his breath, the shallow intakes and exhales steadying the weapon further as he awaited any movement. His finger squeezed the trigger slightly as he saw a shadow dart across the opening, the high powered weapon jolting back into his shoulder, slowly pulling the rifle muzzle back behind the tarpaulin in reaction to the shot.
The bullet flew across the landscape, clipping the corner of the crate and entering the shoulder of the forward artillery observer, the man screaming in shock and pain as he was propelled backwards, blood splattering across the underside of the vehicle above him.
The young Austrian exhaled slowly against the broken floor beneath him, ensuring no dust rose from his action. Then he lay there for some seconds, regaining his composure.
Slowly the rifle muzzle pushed through the tarpaulin again, the young man squinting through the sight. Seeing the new trail blood on the underside of the vehicle, he slowly moved the rifle to the left, scanning north of the lorry. He glimpsed the tops of helmets moving towards the overturned vehicle along a trench, realising soldiers were running to help the wounded man, the rifle muzzle moving slowly back to his previous position in anticipation.
Another shadow moved across the opening, his finger squeezing the trigger again, the bullet passing between the obstacles and hitting an infantryman in the chest as he bent down to help the wounded artillery observer. The soldier was killed instantly as the high velocity bullet tore through his body, the soldier falling dead next to the writhing artillery observer. The other two infantrymen backed away from the overturned lorry in terror, their bodies lowered in the trench, the man’s screams loud in their ears as he began to bleed to death.
Bloody Stalingrad Page 52