Breakthrough (The Red Gambit Series) (74 page)

Messages returned from relieved commanders, conscious of the fact that a firm hand was on the tiller.

Switching to another channel
,
he thumbed the mike.

“Anton to Emil-zero-one, receiving.”

The 3rd Tank C
ompany commander, a highly-experienced former
Obersturmfuhrer
of the SS-Leibstandarte, had already anticipated the order and was closing up.

Having acknowledged Knocke’s order, the 3rd Company picked up pace, its eighteen Panther tanks churning up the soil as they strove to get up to support ‘Alma’.

Binoculars up again, Knocke swept the enemy positions and saw something emerge from its hiding place, the foliage and netting cover now alight following a close strike. His
brain
fought to recognise
the shape
,
and he concentrated more to bring it into focus.

‘Schiesse!’

The ISU-122 was very bad news indeed, its main gun capable of killing anything on the field that day and, unlike its IS cousins, it carried enough shells to do a thorough job.

As if to emphasise the point, shells erupted from various camouflaged p
o
ints along ‘
Rostov
’ as concealed ISU-122’s opened up.

One JagdPanther received two solid hits and came apart like a dead rose head, leaving nothing but the running gear and lower hull in place to mark its end.

Another JagdPanther took a single hit, slewing to one side as the nearside track unravelled.

Two of the JagdPanzer IV’s were destroyed, both equally catastrophically.

One thing about the ISU-122 was its vulnerability, a fixed mount gun carried on a modestly armoured vehicle.

All of the Legion tanks present could kill the thing with one shot, and one of the Nashorne’s led the way, striking and
destroying
the southernmost ISU with its first sh
ell
.

The Nashorne itself was extremely lightly armoured, the thickest plate being 30mm, but it carried the deadly Pak43 88mm gun
,
so it was a question of gunnery.

And German gunnery was excellent, the stationary Nashorne consuming another two ISU’s before
it attracted any attention in the
target-rich environment.

The
heavy
shell missed as the Nashorne had relocated.

Another JagdPanzer had succumbed, its crew dodging bullets in a successful attempt to reach a friendly shell hole.

The artillery, not to be outdone, took out another ISU, a dramatic mushroom cloud of black smoke and flame marking its end.

The infantry of the 5th RdM had reached Rostov-Four, a small hamlet lying
near
the Stockachgraben stream
,
where
Kn
ocke could see a vicious
fire fight
taking place at close-quarters.

A report from Uhlmann broke through his concentration, the tank officer reporting a successful breach in the lines at Dagersheim.

Also, the voice of Lange made itself known, encouraging his men forward.

“Anton to Gelb
kopf
-zero-one over.”

The reply was distorted and Knocke tried again.

This time Lange
’s reply
was loud and clear.

‘Strange.’

“Anton to Gelb
kopf
-zero-one.
What is your status over?”

Again, the response was crystal clear.

“Gelb
kopf
-zero-one to Anton. Have experienced communications problems. Now sorted. Am in command, over.”

Knocke toyed with the possibilities and gave him the benefit of the doubt.

“Anton to Gelb
kopf
-zero-one. You have command. I am
behind you with Anton and Emil. Ende
.”

‘Some explaining to do later.’

Knocke’s thoughts overrode the reply from Lange.

To his front, the ISU’s were coming off much worse, two more of their number dying before his eyes in return for a JagdPanther damaged.

The Nashorne was methodically working the line, its lethal gun requiring only a single hit to claim a kill.

The legionnaires of ‘
Alma
’ had taken Rostov-Four and reported its fall over the radio scheme, closely followed by Rostov-Three, as they moved to join forces with Uhlmann’s troopers in Dagersheim.

Von Arnesen’s lead units were held up within the hedgehog
,
and he reported that he was going forward to ‘encourage’ his men.

Knocke half considered warning his old comrade to take care but reconsidered. Such advi
ce was wholly unnecessary in the
circumstances.

He turned back to watch ‘
Rostov
’,
his concerns soothed
by the now regular radio transmissions from Lange.

Considering
that
the
Soviet
s had been occupying the positions for only a short time
,
they had done a fine job of making them difficult for any attacker.

Von Arnesen, his thigh aching from the exertion, had moved forward through the trenches
,
and discovered a
n
increasing
number of dead and wounded from his legionnaire
s.
These casualties came in groups throught the defences, groups that marked the location of
each pocket of resistance
,
as the
Soviet
s gave ground reluctantly.

Ahead of him
,
a gr
enade exchange was taking place.
One of his
French
officers, a
Legion Captain
,
was organising an assault,
seemingly
oblivious to the fact that his left hand was shredded and useless.

He left the man to it, solely ordering the officer to accept the ministrations of the waiting medic.

Moving off down an adjoining trench
,
Von Arnesen’s point man was nearly bowled over by
a
soldier
burst
ing
from a small gully, laden with bags of grenades, intent on supplying his comrades with the means to hold the Allies at bay.

Fortunately, the Corporal leading the party recognised him for what he was
,
and dropped
the Russian
with a controlled burst from his ST44.

The heavy bags of
Soviet
grenades were taken up
,
to be used against their former owners.

The sound of tank guns firing rose to a crescendo, as did the radio messages from the Tank companies
,
who were having
their own problems in Dagersheim.

Von Arnesen’s party
moved forward again.

The trench fed into an anti-tank gun position, containing what used to be an anti-tank gun
,
and probably what used to be its crew, although it was extremely difficult to tell
,
as the bits were spread around like some mad butcher had thrown tidbits to his hounds.

Here a small aid station had been set up, and six badly wounded legionnaires were receiving at
tention from orderlies, the wounds testing their medical knowledge.

Swift questioning
of
the orderlies revealed the correct route to follow
,
and von Arnesen’s party set off down the central
trench. After
a few minutes
,
they approached a growing
fire fight
and arrived as the Russian infantry were launching a counter-attack.

Unfortunately for the
Soviet
soldiers, their attempt to attack both through the trenches and over the top proved unsuccessful, Von Arnesen’s group flaying the exposed guardsmen as they
prepared to grenade the German legionnaires
below them.

Von Arnesen risked a swift look over the edge to orient himself and dropped back down again as fire from an enemy machine gun whipped up the earth nearby.

Summoning the legionnaire officer to him, he hastily drew
a plan in the damp earth floor, using a large wooden splinter.

“
Lieutenant Durand
, here is the gap,” the original plan made a gap in the woods to the rear of the hedgehog a focal point.

“Here is the log bunker,” he made a hole with the stick and drew the road in behind it, running from left to right.

“Here we are,” a very deliberate thrust of the stick generated a suitable marker.

“Take your platoon around to the right and get behind the bunker to this point,” he emphasised the location with another, deeper hole, “Take anyone who retreats from the bunker and prevent its reinforcement
,
but do not cross the road. Move now, but stay in that position until we come up to you.”

Lieutenant Du
rand, once of the
Vichy
6th REI,
captured in
Syria
in 1941, understood his orders and sped away to get his men together.

Von Arnesen turned to his own group
,
and the stragglers who had joined it, briefing them in their part in the push, namely the trench assault on the bunker.

A quick radio conversation informed Knocke of his intent
,
and a second ordered two more companies of legionnaires into the hedgehog defensive system.

The group of twenty men moved off into the left-hand trench as the last of Durand’s men disappeared down the larger right-hand trench.

Elsewhere in the hedgehog, submachine guns were at work, assisted by grenades. The more grisly and close work made little identifiable noise.

At the front of Von Arnesen’s group there was a sudden commotion, and he could see men scattering.

An explosion and cries of pain followed, the point man having been wounded by a
Soviet
grenade.

The bleeding man was dragged backwards and young legionnaire took his place, dropping his Kar98k and picking up the wounded corporal’s ST44 and spare magazines.

Checking behind him, the legionnaire took a quick look over the parapet. Satisfied he dropped down again and then stole a look round the corner. He shouted a warning but stood his ground, pausing to catch the thrown grenade before returning it down the trench.

A solid crump followed,
followed by
more screams
. T
he legionnaire ran forwards, the assault rifle spitting bullets in short bursts.

Support quickly followed
,
and another section of trench was wrenched from
Soviet
hands.

Three
Soviet
guardsmen lay wounded on the ground, obstructing the way forward with their damaged bodies.

Two legionnaires dragged them backwards swiftly, immune to the extra screams from the most wounded one, his entrails catching on an ammunition box as he was moved.

Ex-Hauptscharfuhrer Höffman cocked his Colt pistol and dispatched each in turn, killing with a single shot to the forehead
,
his eyes cold and clinical.

“Schiesse untermensch.”

The Colt was replaced and he thought no more about it.

Time was against them
,
so Von Arnesen pushed them on again.

At ‘
Minsk
’, it was mayhem
.

More T-70’s had declared themselves, harrying the infantry
,
whilst trying not to expose themselves to the Panthers and Panzer IV’s of Uhlmann’s command.