Breakthrough (The Red Gambit Series) (86 page)

‘Alma’ and ‘Amilakvari were in the front line
,
but remained untested as yet. ‘
Tannenberg
’
, the motorised-infantry brigade,
had given up some of its armour and equipment to reconstitute Knocke’s unit
,
so remained
in the Rastatt area, its own headquarters now inhabiting those buildings in Waldprechtsweier previously used by ‘Camerone’.

A further Legion brigade and division were in the making at Sassy, although heavy equipment was becoming scarcer to find. Ex-Wehrmacht engineers and civilian personnel were presently inspecting factories in the Ruhr area in order to see what production could be accomplished, and some vehicles had been constructed by Allied military engineers already, although they were swallowed up by Guderian’s larger force already in the
Ruhr
.

Rumours of Speer’s efforts abounded, but Knocke preferred to see hard evidence.

In the main operations room, Lavalle and Bittrich discussed the military situation over coffee.

Knocke arrived
at the front entrance
and was immediately
taken aside
by Colonel Paul Desmarais, commander of ‘
Tannenberg
’, desperate to retain as much of his own resources as possible.

Knocke, sympathetic to the man’s woes, listened with good grace, although his own unit had needs and was prioritised over ‘
Tannenberg
’.

Two vehicles drew up together
at the front of Hotel Stephanie, attra
cting the attention of the two L
egion officers.

One was a
military
beast,
muddy and bent, a kubelwagen that
had seen better days.
In the front seat was
Lange, the newly appointed commander of ‘
Alma
’. On seeing Knocke
,
he smiled widely
,
but
the smile was heavily laced with the pain of his ankle injury. H
e gingerly slid out of the passenger seat of the battered staff car before attempting the two steps
to the main entrance
.

Both Knocke and Desmarais offered their hands by way of assistance, and Lange accepted thankfully.

The kerfuffle behind drew all three’s attention.

The other vehicle was the first
of six, all relatively pristine, as were the officers who dismounted from them. Some tugged tunics in place, others rushed to open doors, so that more important personages could dismount.

Knocke and
Desmarais
shook hands with Lange, none of the three taking their eyes off the growing sea of gold braid.

Eventually
,
the leader stepped forward, followed in order of seniority by the entourage.

The three L
egion officers saluted as the unknown
three
-star G
eneral swept past; o
r rather tried to.

The two l
egionnaires on duty at the entrance challenged him immediately,
barring the way
,
r
equesting his identification.

“Idiots! Step aside and let me pass. I am ...”

Both legionnaires were from ‘
Tannenberg
’
,
and
both were old desert hands.

N
either intended to budge an inch.

The senior
, a
C
aporal,
took the lead
and interrupted the bluster
.

“Sir, my standing orders do not permit me to allow you entry without identification. Now, your papers please
,
sir.”

“I will not give you my papers but you will give me your name,
rank and number,” the furious General eyed
the
obviously
younger man, “And you too!”

The C
aporal stood his ground.

“Sir, first I must request of you that you permit me to inspect your papers. Please
,
sir.”

The crowd o
f French officers behind
the
G
eneral smiled openly, having witnessed their man destroy
lesser
beasts
at will over the last few years.

The General’s moustache trembled, either in his anger or in
delicious
anticipation of what was to come.

“Stand aside
now
,
or I will have you
both
court-martialled and shot for interfering with my duties!”

A
nother
man stepped forward and both sentries snapped to attention in deference
,
but remained placed so as to obstruct the General’s progress.

“Sir, Colonel Knocke, Camerone Brigade.”

The salute was magnificent, as was the figure that
now
made the human barricade into a strength of three.

The General touched his cane to his cap, angry and curious in equal measure, the more so as the figure in front of him sported more medals than an army, and
medals
of the enemy to boot.

“Order these men to remove themselves
‘
Colonel
’
, or I shall be forced to act.”

The
emphasis
on Knocke’s rank was not wasted on anyone present.

“Sir, I regret
,
but I cannot.”

The General
grew
red-faced immediately and went to speak.

Knocke cut him off
in an instant
.

“In the event that they permitted you to enter
,
in contrav
ention of Corps standing orders,
I would have no choice but to shoot them
myself
for dereliction of duty.”

The General’s eyes widened
,
and he wondered if the SS bastard would do it. Knocke could not see the two sentries behind him wondering the
exact
same thing.

An oppressive silence followed, during which the General stared into the eyes of the man in front of him, seeing there
the character and resolve
others had seen
so often
before.

Both Lange and Demarais spoke of it in hushed tones later, describing as best they could the silent battle of personalities, and trying hard to properly relate the discernable moment when the Frenchman knew he had been found wanting.

Knocke also relaxed
,
and gave the General a reasonable option.

“If I might offer an alternative
, Sir?
You were not to know of this standing order within the Corps.
P
erhaps Colonel Desmarais could examine your papers on their behalf
,
and then honour
of both sides
will be
satisfied when they pass scrutiny?”

Colonel Paul Desmarais did not welcome being pulled into the co
nfrontation but, in the spirit o
f the L
egion, rallied to his comrade
’
s side.

The General, to everyone’s surprise,
even his own,
extracted his papers and passed them to Desmarais without a word, focussing
his attention on Knocke.

“And what do these men know of honour
,
Colonel?”

The words could not have held more contempt.

Theatrically, Knocke turned abruptly to the sentries
,
who involuntarily stiffened, still expecting some sort of rebuke.

After spending a
few
moment
s
examining each man in turn,
exaggerating his close inspection of them from head to toe,
he turned back and answered very deliberately.

“Sir, these men
are legionnaires
,
and therefore they know more of honour than any fighting man in service today.”

The whole situation was surreal to the General, defied by private soldiers
,
aided and
abetted by a senior officer, a G
erman
,
and ex-SS as well.

‘I will shake these pigs up and make them into soldiers or my name isn’t Molyneux!’

His thoughts
would have moved to revenge but for the interruption from Desmarais, returning his papers with due formality.

“All in order, Mon Général.”

The sentries snapped aside like hinged doors, presenting arms in the time honoured manner.

“You have not heard the last of this
,
Colonel Knocke, oh no.”

The General s
wept forward, acknowledging the
presented arms with another wave of his cane, penetrating deep into the Hotel Stephanie in search of Lavalle.

Lange and Desmarais looked at Knocke as a butcher looks at the likely turkey on Christmas Eve.

“You know how to make friends don’t you!”

Desmarais’ face didn’t wholly convey the humour he intended, for Generals made terrible enemies.

The two sentries had recovered their stance and were motionless statues, mentally replaying the events that had tested them.

Knocke stood in thought before turning to his fellow officers.

“I think we are about to see a change around here, and not one for the better.”

Neither man could disagree as they entered the headquarters, ushered in by Knocke who remained at the back.

The
C
aporal
clicked into the
general salute position,
closely followed by the younger legionnaire, the two
paying a soldier
’
s homage to
the man w
ho had intervened on their behalf.

Demarais and Lange heard the movement and turned, witnessing an honour not normally afforded Colonels
,
but now being freely given by soldiers to one they held in high esteem.

Knocke was actually taken aback and stopped dead, examining each man in turn before his face split with a genuine smile.

He nodded, savouring the moment and made to enter, but again stopped.

His mind practised the words before he spoke them.

“Legio Patria Nostr
a, Kameraden,” the Legion motto slipping uneasily off his tongue, the
German
sentiment
at the end
forgivable
in his concentration.

The younger man could not bring himse
lf to say anything; not so the C
orporal.

“Honneur et Fid
é
lit
é,
mon Colonel,” and in a lower
,
conspira
torial voice added, “Et merci. M
erci bien.”

Knocke nodded and headed off in hot pursuit of the
new arrival, leaving behind him two men who would tell their comrades of what had come to pass
,
and
thus
increase the legend.

Soon to be
G
é
n
é
ral de
Corps D’Armée
Albert Roland Molyneux was visiting himself upon the unfortunate Lavalle and Bittrich, haranguing them for anything from the colour of the wallpaper to the paperclip found on the carpet.

Eventually
,
Molyneux moved to the recent matter, ordering that Lavalle place the sentries on a charge for their impertinence.

Knocke and his comrades
arrived at that moment, and
discovered that Lavalle too could hold his ground.

“I regret you have been inconvenienced
, mon
Général
, but the men were acting under my express instructions
,
so I am unable to do as you request.”

“Then I will find someone who will! What sort of unit are you running
,
Lavalle?”

“The sort that obeys the orders of its commander
,
mon
Général
, and so I submit that I must also be arrested if my men are detained, as it was I that issued their orders.”