Opening Moves (The Red Gambit Series) (36 page)

The most important factor was now which way their train would turn. Any direction but southwest would bring a completely new set of problems to the escapees, but their luck held.

As their train moved through and onto the south-west line Rolf risked a better look and was struck by the fact that, had he not witnessed it with his own eyes and known differently, he would now be looking at an apparently unimportant piece of railway network. Certainly not one that merited the attention of at least eighty heavily armed Soviet troops on a wet night such as this. Something was happening here and alarm bells were still ringing in his head.

He moved back into the truck and found a number of others waiting expectantly. 

“What the hell is this all about menschen? The war is over and yet we see secrecy like this. What we have witnessed here is important enough to pass on, although, in truth, I’m not totally sure who we should try to tell or what we would say.”

A number of quiet laughs accompanied Rolf’s obvious humour, for they all knew the answer to that. However, Shandruk put it into words.

“Maybe it is just manouevre, maybe not. Either way, it is something the Russian wishes to conceal, therefore we have a duty to speak of it, and surely it must be the Americans we go to?”

“And be imprisoned again?” came Braun’s angry words, echoed by one or two others.

“Quiet Kameraden.”

Rolf gave a moment for all to settle and focus solely on him.

“Such decisions we cannot presently make. We must focus on escape, for it may be that we won’t be able to exercise choice over which enemy or friend we next encounter”.

It was a fair point and making light of the situation obviously eased the immediate tension. Rolf continued after a pause.

“What we must agree is not to speak of it to the communists if we are taken, for I think if we did we would guarantee a bullet in the head for each of us. So let us now concentrate on getting out of the Russian area and into whatever of Germany is left to us. Agreed?”

No voices rang out, just nods of agreement, and the group just went back to what they had been doing.

Krantzschen sidled up to Rolf, his voice low.

“The other carriage is exactly the same as this one Herr Sturmbannfuhrer. A charnel house.”

There was a distinctive whistle to Krantzschen’s voice caused by the absence of his two front upper teeth, victims of a vehicle accident in the Ukraine.

He looked to see if anyone was watching and slipped a piece of cloth into Rolf’s hand.

“I found this jammed in the door runner. I think it was what was preventing it from moving.”

Even before Rolf’s eyes took in exactly what it was, he had a fair idea of what Krantzschen had pressed into his hand. He swiftly summoned Braun for his lighter and a quick flick of the wheel was sufficient for them to see a Major’s epaulette with its pink Panzer waffenfarbe trim quite clearly.

The three of them exchanged looks.

With that one object, all became clear to them.

They had not been digging tank ditches.

The gunfire at night was not part of Russian military manoeuvres.

The increased numbers of trains were not bringing cargoes but German bodies from far afield.

Rolf quietly and solemnly slipped the epaulette back into Krantzschen’s hand and squeezed it around the material firmly, both Braun and Krantzschen immediately understanding that the matter would not be discussed further. Krantzschen slid it back into his pocket for later disposal.

The train progressed slowly through the silent and dark countryside, passing occasionally through sleepy villages, the names of which were softly called out by the watchers.

Breiteneich.

Horn.

Rosenberg.

The names kept coming.

Another scare occurred as they ground to a halt in a larger siding area in order to permit another four trains to pass by, these being mainly blacked out passenger coaches. However, there were enough glowing cigarette ends clustered on the ends of each coach to safely assume that each carriage was crammed with combat troops. The Russians followed the previous routine and extinguished all lights in the area but this time had them all back on by the time the fugitive’s train pulled through. The station was Krems-Donau and according to the platform clock, it was 0223. 

The little train rattled slowly on and those looking out of the left-hand doorway absorbed the comforting vision of the dark waters of the Danube slowly flowing eastwards.

At Groisbach their train slewed into a siding and the whole secretive process was repeated, this time with five trains passing slowly by, their military cargo all too apparent.

The final time they were forced to concede the track to military trains they were just west of Marbach, and this time only three trains moved past them.

Sunrise was seemingly delayed by the rain but the gradual arrival of the morning sun seemed to turn off the tap and both wind and rain disappeared in an instant. 

After a longer than normal delay, their little train slowly started chugging its way onwards and, now that there was sufficient natural light, Moeller tried to draw a map in the dirt on the wall of the truck to help them all work out where they were and where they were going. Four men were detailed to keep an eye open, especially as the train had slowed down and was making extremely slow progress now.

Kloss, the Kradschutzen Leutnant positioned at a hole on the offside front corner swore audibly and called Rolf to him with some urgency. The hole was large enough for two to look out of and so they both had a grandstand view of a heavily camouflaged railway siding within a wood adjacent to the mainline. Both noted that the trains that they had seen slide past them that very morning were concealed under the vast green awnings.

Of as much interest was the fact that there were at least forty such trains in total, parked in what was rapidly appreciated as a huge area of clear land which was intended to represent woodland. Certainly, any aerial view of the site would see nothing but a vast wooded nature reserve for birds and deer, and no aerial observer would have any idea of the huge amount of tanks, guns, and men underneath the canopy of natural leaves and camouflage netting. Large numbers of Russians were moving about the area, obviously stretching their legs and enjoying an early breakfast. Kloss pointed out a cooking facility that produced no smoke, supplying a line of eager riflemen and tank crew.

It was also apparent that the Russians even removed the spur of rail track that led into the sidings, as Rolf glimpsed a pile of track under a roof on what was supposed to look like a cottage from above. At the other end of the site, a similar building had been erected, obviously where the track was stored prior to being put in place so the trains could continue their onward journey. The switchgear for the dismantled points clearly lay under some false bushes constructed adjacent to the track.

In total, the watchers considered that they had just seen the entire tank, anti-tank and artillery strength of a Guards Mechanised Corps, parked up trying hard to look like a harmless Austrian wood. That was being done for a reason. Uhlmann consulted with the Brandenburger and a 12th SS Division staff Hauptsturmfuhrer, both of whom had intelligence credentials.

It did not take them long to arrive at the conclusion that what they had seen was a clandestine all-arms attack force moving up towards its start position, wherever that may be. The lack of visible facilities to disembark the vehicles made them believe that the final destination was further forward. In addition, no facility such as that secret area would be built just for training purposes. That was something put together for the real deal.

The inescapable conclusion was that the Soviet Union was definitely about to carry the war forward and assault the other half of Germany, and probably beyond. Bringing in the Austrian, the conversation continued regarding where exactly the Russians intended to attack but quickly moved into how this might affect their possible transit into a zone held by more friendly and understanding enemies, and then, by natural progression, came once more to their obligation and duty to pass on this knowledge.

By common assent, after long years of combat in the name of Fuehrer, Fatherland and Folk, their temporary respite as prisoners was brought to a stunning halt. Without a doubt, they now did have an obligation to carry this news to the Western Allies in order to protect the part of Germany that lay under their control. Any German government that existed would be bound to resist the Russians and certainly would assist the Americans and British in any way they could as the lesser of two evils.

Rolf called on everyone to listen in, and summed up the situation in a few direct sentences. To the credit of every man present, they all instantly understood the responsibility they held to get through with this intelligence, no matter what.

The moment of decision was interrupted by the jolt of their train as it came to a halt. The watchers quickly allayed any fears and reported nothing of concern. One even spotted the name of the town on the front of a shop some way off the track.

It was Persenbeug, a fact reinforced by the lofty presence of the grand Schloss Persenbeug perched atop its rocky outcrop, with its well-known almost eastern style dome sitting atop the grand tower, on which the clock indicated 0520 hrs.

Schloss Persenbeug was directly to the south of the small siding in which their train had stopped. Unchanged from the pictures most had seen of it, its sheer white walls and red rooves stood guard over the river that ran alongside it.

The sweetness of seeing such a welcoming structure was swiftly lost as Braun urgently informed the group that the engine was being uncoupled. They had reached the end of the line.

Desperate affairs require desperate measures.

Horatio Nelson.

0920 hrs Saturday, 4th August 1945, Persenbeug, Soviet Occupied Lower Austria.

In the wagon, the summer temperature, combined with its effects on the detritus of the former occupants, was making the atmosphere unbearable.

There was little by way of Soviet military traffic, but there was enough sporadic movement to keep the group tucked away in their hiding place until they had formulated a plan.

Save for the four watchers, they huddled together, deep in discussion. As Braun listened, he opened letters from the mailbag and used both envelope and contents to remove ‘unsavoury’ items from his clothing and footwear.

“I agree that we cannot sit here forever comrades, that’s for sure.” The last of their cigarettes was being passed from hand to hand. The foodstuffs had long gone.

“From what we picked up during our time in the camp, we cannot be that far from where the Allied lines are, or at least, were.”

In the habit of men throughout the ages, Rolf grabbed his chin and thought hard.

“We must split up into small groups and try to make our way to the allies with the information we have. That duty is definitely clear.”

Even Braun nodded along with the others, his previous concerns having been thought through now.

A moment of pause was thrust upon them as a flight of Soviet single-engine fighter aircraft raced overhead. Rolf waited for the sounds to fade before continuing.

“Moeller, you know this area best of all of us. What alternatives do we have?”

“Herr Sturmbannfuhrer, we have few alternatives as I see it. Bear in mind kameraden, it is some time since I visited here. Firstly, there is the obvious one of the railway on which we presently sit. Without a doubt, there will be other traffic in due course, going the right way. Over the other side of the Donau there is another track; I think it’s a place called Ybbs, which could take us to Salzburg, but equally into Northern Italy or back in the direction of Wien. Into Italy should still see a meeting with the Allies obviously.”