Die Glocke

by M C Drake

  “Yes father.” The young man and rushed to do as commanded.

  Walther started to write in a frenzied blur of motion, he drew precise blueprints with exact measurements, he wrote down the materials needed and he noted how the object must be created so it functioned as intended. He scribbled furiously for about five minutes before finally putting his pen down.

  “Come look at this my son.” Walther beckoned.

  Joseph took the notepad a flicked through, he checked the drawings, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He looked at his father.

  “This can’t be right…It just can’t be.”

  “I know son, this will change the tide of the war for sure.”

  Joseph had his doubts about the war effort but knew better than to raise them in front of his father.

  “How would we even build this thing?”

  “Think about it son, you’ve seen the amazing things we have built, the Me 262 jet engines, the Panzerkampfwagen VIII Maus super- heavy tank, Fritz X guided anti-ship bombs, the V1 and V2 rockets that enter the edge of space. All these revolutionary ideas came from Die Glocke. We are the ones chosen to give life to these ideas so our people can take our rightful place at the head of the world.”

  While Joseph did not agree with all these ideas he could not argue with the results that came for the bell visions.

  The images on the notepad showed a large circular object constructed of tough reinforced metal alloy, one side was covered with a deep curving mirror. The object was to use the sun's energy to create a concentrated beam of light onto the designated target.

  “This is an Archimedes death ray.”

  “Yes son,” Walther shouted excitedly, “But we will be able to burn entire cities instead of wooden Roman ships. These plans must get to Hillersleben.”

  Walther sat up, "We need to get Die Glocke going one last time, I feel the war-winning secret was nearly there before it cut out." He placed his hand on his sons shoulder, supporting himself as he stood.

  “This time we must get the power to stay at 100%, we must scrap the caution and push it as hard as we can.”

  Joseph nodded, “I’ll get on the repairs. You sit here and recover.” He said sternly.

  Walther did sit and recover as he son had insisted on but only for five minutes; he had to get the message to the scientists at the Hillersleben facility in Germany. He pushed the document into a small brown envelope with a standard stamp attached to it, it looked unremarkable and that’s the way he wanted to keep it. Walther then sent an encoded message through to the facility instructing them on where the envelope was to be sent; the envelopes contents were to be destroyed by Joseph if he could not get the message out before the base was overrun.

  Jim ‘Pete’ Parker

  The open field stretching out in front of the Owl Mountains was ablaze, thick black smoke bloomed into the atmosphere and the smell of charred human flesh choked anyone in the area. Commander Jim ‘Pete’ Parker and his fellow Sherman crews had suffered horrendous losses but had now closed the gap and found themselves in amongst the dug in Tiger tank positions.

  A Sherman commanded by Tom Finch maneuvered around the side of a Tiger I, the German tank could not swing its barrel round to target the American tank as the concrete pillars designed to protect it from aerial bombardment now inhibited it.

  The Sherman had a clean shot into the weaker side of the tank. The gyrostabilizer kept the Sherman's targeting reticle relatively in the right direction while the tank was on the move. Tom Finch's tank hit the brakes and no sooner had it stopped it took a near point-blank shot into the side of the Tiger, the round penetrated, killing three of the crew and seriously wounding another.

  A German anti-tank gun aimed at Tom’s Sherman but was too eager to fire and did not aim the shot properly, the shell flew passed the American who had noticed where the shot had come from, he directed his gunner on target and fired, the gun was destroyed. Tom smiled; it had been a good day’s work so far.

  The Sherman’s were advancing into the first line of German trenches where they knew infantry with anti-tank launchers would be a threat, Bow gunner Steven Almore noticed movement and opened up with several bursts from his .30 caliber M1919A4 machine gun. Three SS soldiers screamed and fell, a few seconds later the grenades they were cooking detonated and a shockwave of air containing shrapnel swept out down the trench, killing three others.

  Tom’s Sherman rotated its turret to line up a shot into the back of a Panther medium tank that was laying fire down into a group of advancing Sherman’s. The reticle rested on the German tank. Tom Finch was about to shout fire when the front of his tank disintegrated and caved inwards, the driver and bow gunner were killed instantly while the loaders arm was torn off. Tom had a second to look down before the ammunition rack ignited and the whole tank exploded; Tom was launched from the commander’s cupola and was dead before his burning body hit the ground.

  Nobody had seen what had fired the round before a second shell hit another Sherman slightly to the right of the flaming wreck that had been Tom’s tank. The second Sherman did not catch fire but the round had penetrated and killed two of the crew, the others tried to escape the doomed vehicle but were cut down by machine gun fire as they did so.

  Jim ‘Pete’ Parker had seen that two of his allies had been taken out in quick succession; he moved his tank cautiously behind the burning hulk of one of the Sherman’s and tried to get a view of the hidden enemy. His tank came under machine gun fire from the trench down to his left. Paul ‘Mex’ Perez turned his gun onto the target and waited for Pete’s instruction.

  “Fire.” Pete shouted.

  The round flew into the trench and exploded, the machine gun fire ceased.

  Parker scanned the distance with his binoculars then after a good ten seconds or so he noticed a muzzle flash from near the base of the mountain.

  “Got ya.” He said as he let out a smile.

  “We got tank destroyers at the base of the hill, looks like a few of them…not sure what they are, don’t think we have encountered them before.” Parker said over the radio.

  “Roger that Pete, what-cha wanna do?”

  “We have the greater numbers here; we need to take out the Tigers and Panthers first. My group will do that. You guys take out any Anti-tank guns you can find and support the infantry.” Parker paused, “After that we can take out the tank destroyers.”

  “Roger that.”

  The Sherman’s regrouped and focused on the enemies close at hand, they hoped that if they could get the infantry boys into play then they would have a better chance of ending this battle quickly.

  The German armor was outnumbered four to one with only a few Tiger II’s being committed to the battle. They had a surprise up their sleeves though as positioned at the bottom of the mountain with a decent amount of distance between them and the American tanks were six Elefant Ferdinand Tank destroyers, sporting 8.8 cm Pak cannons that had an effective range of 3 kilometers.

  Four experimental self-propelled anti-tank guns sat under camouflage nets next to their bigger allies. The 12.8 cm Selbstfahrlafette auf VK30.01(H) or the Sturer Emil as the Germans called it had an large open-topped fighting compartment that gave the crew an excellent field of view, but little protection. The vehicle had a large caliber gun attached to it but as it was turretless it could only fire in the direction it was facing. Two similar prototypes had been built and fought in the Russian campaign the year before with one being destroyed and the other captured at the battle of Stalingrad; it had thirty-one kill marks painted on the barrel. The two vehicles were lovingly called Max and Moritz.

  The Tiger crews had needed the protection of their concrete blanket when the allies were bombing but now it was becoming their tomb, the lack of maneuverability was really costing them. The Elefant Tank destroyers were laying down fire to keep the Sherman's from flanking but there were just too many of them.

  An 8.8 cm anti-tank gun let rip firing a shot down range which struck
the American tank in the welded seam along the turret, the round penetrated and disabled the tank. The crew of the anti-tank gun reloaded a high explosive shell and targeted the next tank. They fired but before their shot hit the target erupted in a ball of flames, the unfortunate tank had been set ablaze by a Tiger II. The Anti-Tank guns round hit the tank and ignited, blowing the turret clean off.

  “Half a kill Wolfe.” Berndt Krause said, “Better luck on the next one.”

  “Double or quits Hauptsturmführer?”

  “Double or quits Wolfe, but this is the last time.”

  Krause watched the battle unfolding through his binoculars, it was not going well, it was a target rich environment but it would not be long until the Sherman’s broke through the initial line and then the infantry could advance. It would only be a matter of time before he would have to use his own assault rifle.

  Krause smiled, he had been waiting for this for a long time, he had become bored stuck underground and it was time to do what he had signed up for.

  Commander Jim ‘Pete' Parkers Sherman rolled forward .50 caliber Browning M2HB and the two .30 caliber Browning firing bursts as she went. They were laying fire down into the trenches. Pete took his tank left of a dug in tiger II while another Sherman flanked right. The Tiger took aim on the Sherman flanking right and fired a round at point-blank range, setting the American tank ablaze.

  “Fuck it!” Pete said ‘Thank you for your sacrifice boys.’ He thought to himself as his tank stopped behind the Tiger.

  “Fire.” Pete shouted.

  The Sherman's round penetrated through the thin rear armor plate and killed the entire Tiger crew; black smoke billowed from the hole in the rear of the German tank. This shot was Pete's tenth kill of the day from their twenty-third round, he had fifty-three more shells to go.

  Pete’s Sherman then lined up on a 8.8 cm anti-tank gun, he waited a second for his tank to stop then he fired. The round flew passed the gun but hit the ammunition store next to it; the entire area went up in flames and the gun crew was killed instantly.

  “Make that eleven kills today boys, not that I’m counting.”

  "Alright Pete it ain't a competition, knock those machine gun nests out will you."

  It only isn’t a competition because you losing boys!” Pete shouted above the noise.

  Pete turned his Sherman onto the next target which was a machine gun nest keeping the troops behind him from advancing. He lined up the shot and was about to tell his gunner to fire when a panicked shout from Ross, his driver, got his attention.

  “What is it Ross?”

  “Panther firing at us from ten o’clock.”

  “Incoming!” shouted Rick ‘Free’ Freeman.

  The round struck the Sherman at an angle and ricocheted off. The Sherman had survived the shot but the Panther advanced and closed the distance. Pete instructed the gunner to swivel the turret onto the rapidly gaining German tank.

  Pete waited a second then shouted “Fire!”

  The gunner opened fire but the aim was just off and the shell whizzed passed the turret of the Panther. The Panther returned fire but the angle was still too acute and the round bounced off of the tanks armor, it was more through luck than skill that Pete was still alive.

  The Panther continued to advance and had not slowed down. ‘That son of a bitch is going to ram us!’ Pete thought. Pete and his crew had adjusted their aim. “Fire again.” Pete roared.

  The round exited the muzzle and flew straight and true, impacting onto through the turret of the Panther. Pete smiled but the Panther kept on coming, it did not fire another round but instead plowed into the side of the Sherman. The speed of impact caused the Sherman to slide across the muddy field.

  Another Sherman had witnessed the impact and fired into the weak side armor of the Panther. The commander's cupola opened on the German tank and two crewmen clambered out like cockroaches and wildly fired with their assault rifles into Pete's commander's hatch. Pete fired with his pistol and shot one of the Germans between the eyes, the other German was taken down with machine gun fire from the Sherman who had knocked the tank out.

  “What the fuck is wrong with these Nazi pigs, do they not care about death?” Rick ‘Free’ Freeman shouted.

  “These are SS men, they are more than willing to die for the cause son, so help them out whenever you can ok?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Can we still move?” Pete asked.

  “Yes Sir, our tracks are damaged but we can still move.”

  “Let’s get to it then.” Pete said then took another huge sip from his hip flask until all the sweet brown alcohol had gone.

  ‘Let’s finish this.’ He thought to himself with a grim determination that had always served him well.

  The next hour was fought with increasing intensity, the Germans lost all of their Tiger II tanks and two-thirds of their Tiger tanks but the Americans lost forty-four Sherman tanks which in normal circumstances would have been a good trade-off. Eighteen tanks lost was a heavy toll on the German defenses but they continued to keep the Americans at bay.

  Robert Miller

  Master Sergeant Robert Miller was covered in mud and blood, his hands were shaking and he felt the adrenaline wearing off. His unit had stormed the second trench which was full of SS troops; they had fought at close quarters and a lot of his men had been killed by assault rifle fire when they had entered the trench.

  “I want you to check ammo then pick supplies off of these dead krauts. We are going to need them.” He ordered his surviving platoon.

  “What are we waiting for sir?”

  “The plan is to meet up with First Sergeant Jackson and his squad then we can push over to the next trench together.”

  “Yeah if Jackson and his squad aren’t dog food by now.”

  Robert Miller shot the young private a deadly glare.

  “Look here you they are going to be here then we are going over the top of that trench to kick some kraut ass, do you get me private!?”

  “I get you sir!”

  “You better do.”

  Gunfire rang out from behind Miller's squad; Private John Curtis Lewis turned and popped his head over the top of the trench to see a small group of SS soldiers firing while they advanced forward.

  “Sir SS on our ass, advancing.”

  "Defensive positions lads, we have to defend this position until the support gets here."

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Three men propped themselves on the top of the trench to lay down suppressing fire, their M1 semi-automatic rifles firing rapidly. In response an SS man threw down a smoke grenade to cover their advance, the Germans held their fire.

  “Get a machine gun up there and pound that area!” Master Sergeant Robert Miller shouted.

  Private Tony Baird set up the captured MG42 on its bipod. The MG 42 had its iron sights trained on the rapidly thinning smoke.

  The American’s waited in nervous anticipation, something dropped into the trench and landed next to Robert Miller’s feet, he glanced down and time seemed to stand still as he realized what the object was. With quick reactions he reached down and picked up the object by its wooden handle and threw it back in the direction it had come from.

  The SS soldier it hit had no time to react, no time to even scream as the stick grenade detonated, the shrapnel from the grenade peppered the legs of the two SS men directly adjacent to him but that was not what killed them, the shockwave of the blast burst their lungs and they drowned in the oxygen-saturated air.

  The smoke had nearly completely dissipated which revealed the sinister black outlines of the German soldiers; they were getting ready to throw more grenades. Private Tony Baird opened up with the MG 42 and its distinctive buzz saw sound rang out, sending 1200 rounds per minute down on its targets.

  The two lead SS men were ripped to pieces as the others dived to the floor; they kept their heads down as the deadly hail of bullets danced all around them.

  “Take that you Kraut sc
um!” Baird shouted in defiance.

  A large explosion launched a hail of soil onto the American troops taking shelter in the trench. Robert Miller shook the mud from his head and peeked over the top of the trench to see a Panther medium tank bearing down on their trench. The tank opened up with both of it's 7.92 mm MG34 machine guns.

  “Everybody get down… Incoming Panther!” Robert Miller shouted.

  Private Baird could not move fast enough and his was struck in the back, he slumped down over the edge of the trench and the MG 42 ceased firing.

  This was the break in fire the SS men were waiting for; they jumped up to their feet and sprinted towards the edge of the trench. When they reached the edge they opened fire with their STG 44 assault rifles, they hit Private Smith in the head and he slumped over, he had no chance to reload his M1.

  Robert Miller rolled over and laid down suppressive fire from his Tommy gun, this guns rate of fire was deadly at close quarters, the SS man in front was much too eager and the rounds sliced through both of his kneecaps, he screamed as he fell into the trench. Sergeant Bradie Jones jumped onto of the fallen SS man and sunk his knife deep into the chest of the German.

  The Advancing Panther was ready to fire another round from its main gun but it did not get the chance as a streak of light raced into the side of the Panther, it penetrated and killed most of the crew. The tank smoked heavily but did not catch fire.

  “What the hell was that?” Robert Miller said.

  Machine gun and semi-automatic rifle fire came out from the left of the trench, the SS men returned fire but they were outgunned and were soon taken out.

  Robert Miller pushed his back up to the right-hand wall of the trench and trained his Tommy gun over the opposite side.

  The six-foot-two-inch frame of the lanky First Sergeant William James Jackson appeared over the top of the trench. Robert Miller let out a sigh of relief and gingerly lowered his weapon.

  “Nice of you to point your gun at me like that Sir, especially after we saved your lazy ass, what you doing sat down there on your backside anyway?” Jackson said with a huge grin etched all over his face.