Night Moves

(Source)

The moon was on the wane and the night was cloudy enough that the men slipping through the forest had enough light to see their way forward, but not enough to reveal them to a casual observer. Not that there were many of those out on this cold October night inside a German forest, while war raged elsewhere, this night was quiet enough.

1Lt Nathan Paddock had wanted to lead this patrol himself, his company commander had forbidden it. "You're too close to this Nate, pick your best, let them do this."

Reluctantly he had agreed with Captain Alphonse Josephson, the loss of his platoon sergeant weighed heavily on his mind. The platoon was lucky to get this job, the only reason Josephson had agreed to it was that 2nd Platoon knew the terrain. They had indeed, shed blood to gain that knowledge.

In choosing the right men, he had had help from his squad leaders, all three were experienced men. All had men in their squads they knew well, men who had experience in the deep woods at night. Though one, Corporal Stephen Hernandez, had been something of a surprise to him. The man was a fine soldier, but he had assumed the man was from the southwest, for obvious reasons, mostly the name.

Turns out that he was born and raised in the Pyrenees mountains of Spain. His name had been Esteban, but his father had Americanized it when they had emigrated to the United States. Hernandez' father had no love for either Franco or the Spanish Republicans, so he had taken his family to America, where he had established a business in the mountains of Colorado. His son, Esteban, now Stephen was no stranger to the outdoors.

"Seriously L.T., I've seen Cpl Hernandez moving through the woods, guy moves like a mountain lion, stealth and power. The man scares me at times, he's that good." Sgt Greg Jenkins had explained all that to Paddock, so Hernandez was chosen to lead the patrol.

The other men chosen were Charlie Gammell, who had proven himself a cool hand and a good soldier, even at the age of 17, nearly 18 as he stressed, besides which, Hernandez wanted his sniping skills, "Just in case," as he'd put it. Gammell wouldn't go anywhere without his spotter, PFC Jackson Hebert, so Bear, as he was known, was in as well.

Not wanting a lot of bodies crashing through the woods, Hernandez had suggested keeping the patrol small but had requested one more man, Pvt Riley Taggert, an experienced hunter and woodsman from before the war. Oddly enough, one city-slicker, as some might put it, was on the patrol as well, PFC Stump Gentile was a tough man and an experienced soldier. Though born and raised in Philadelphia, he had spent a lot of time in the great outdoors since joining the Army.

Five men, their job was to exploit a possible weak spot in the German line along the long firebreak that the platoon had literally stumbled into on the preceding day. One of their own was still out there, missing in action, presumed killed, so 2nd Platoon got another chance to cross the firebreak.

Gentile was on point, they had crossed the firebreak without incident, though there had been a brief scuffle in the brush on the German side of the firebreak. As Hernandez led the rest of the patrol across, he saw a dead German in the low brush. Hernandez was now very glad that the short, dark Italian from Philly was with them.

Just ahead, Hernandez saw Gentile on one knee, Hernandez motioned the other three men to hold position as he slipped forward to Gentile. When he arrived, Gentile pointed, there were three Germans around a small fire, next to what had to be the back entrance to a small bunker. Hernandez thought about it, that had to be the same bunker which had opened up on them yesterday. Motioning to Gentile to watch the Germans, he slid back to the rest of the patrol.

Long minutes later, all five men were in place. After watching the German position for some time before setting up, Hernandez had seen just how shallow the German defenses were. This small bunker was their 'ace in the hole,' take that out and the whole line was unhinged.

Gammell and Hebert were key to the whole plan. Bear was watching the three Germans through his field glasses, Charlie watched through his rifle scope. Both men were amazed that the Krauts had actually built a small fire. They probably assumed that no one in front of the bunker would notice, they hadn't figured on the Americans slipping behind them. It would cost them dearly.

The German lieutenant was inspecting the line, he'd had most of his men fall back to a ravine about 100 meters behind this bunker line as he called it, though it contained but a single bunker. The men needed to rest and the shallow holes they had hastily prepared were insufficient for that. So at night there were only a two man team to either flank and three men in the bunker itself, manning the MG 34.

He had been aghast that the men had built a small fire, but when he felt its warmth, he decided not to say anything. He hadn't noticed it until he was right on top of the position, so he doubted the Amis would notice it either. He expected the Americans to return, but not for a day or so. They had been surprised yesterday, he assumed they would carefully plan a full up assault on his position, maybe tomorrow, more likely the day after. The Amis, when lacking artillery or air support tended to be cautious.

As he chatted with two of the men, one man was always on the gun, he happened to notice something back in the trees. Was that a reflection he saw, the glint of glass? It was his last thought.

Though the German officer wasn't dressed too differently from his men, his epaulettes gave him away. Bear had spotted that and tapped Charlie on the shoulder. Charlie had seen it as well and shifted his position slightly. Yup, an officer, he thought to himself. When he saw the officer turn towards him, he squeezed the trigger, he saw the look of shock on the man's face as the heavy bullet hit him. He went down in a heap.

The sudden roar of American rifle fire, and the unmistakable bark of a submachine gun, caused Grenadier Horst Vogt to spin around. The fire was behind his position. As he struggled to get his weapon off its tripod, he saw something come into the bunker through the firing slit, a grenade!

The smoke and debris issuing from the bunker's rear entrance told Hernandez that Sgt Jack Wilson's squad had done its part. In position across from where the platoon had been ambushed the day before, they waited until Hernandez' patrol opened fire. Hoping that would draw the attention of whoever was in the bunker, they made a mad dash across the firebreak.

Pvt Andre Tremblay, Cajun to his buddies, had spotted the firing slit of the bunker during one of the brief moments the light from the waning gibbous moon had appeared between the drifting clouds. When the men had made their dash, he had a grenade at the ready. When he reached the bunker, he tossed the armed grenade through the slit. The thump of the explosion and the single scream from inside told him that the German machine gun had been neutralized.

1Lt Nate Paddock knelt next to the poncho-wrapped body of SSgt Herbert John Graves. He was praying quietly over the body of the NCO who had taught him so much. He still was in denial over Graves' death. The men had found him where he had fallen on the day of the ambush, face to the enemy, weapon still in hand, but dead nevertheless.

Captain Josephson waited until his 2nd Platoon commander stood up. He nodded at the stretcher bearers who lifted their burden. He raised a hand to stop them, then leaned forward and covered the dead man's face. Then he nodded again and let the stretcher bearers take the sergeant to the rear.

Placing a hand on Paddock's shoulder, and giving it a squeeze, he spoke, "Tough loss Nate, Herb was a damned good man and one of the best NCOs I've ever served with, he'll be missed."

Paddock turned to face his commanding officer, "Yes sir, he was a damn fine soldier. Right now though, I need a new platoon sergeant. Any suggestions?"

Josephson was startled by Paddock's abruptness, but then again, men dealt with grief in different ways, this was no longer the green rookie right out of West Point standing before him, this was a seasoned veteran who wanted the best for his men.

"How 'bout you tell me if you have any suggestions Nate."

"Well, the guy who led last night's patrol, though he's only a corporal, is one tough bastard. I think he deserves sergeant stripes."

"You want to jump a corporal up to platoon sergeant?" Captain Josephson wasn't averse to the idea, though he might have trouble selling it to battalion.

"Yes sir, I think he's the best choice from all of my NCOs."

"Alright, let me clear it with battalion, but as far as I'm concerned, tell Hernandez that he's a sergeant now. He's your acting platoon sergeant until further notice. Think anyone will have a problem with that?"

"No sir. My guys trust me, at least I think they do."

"They do Nate, you've got a good bunch there. I trust you too."

"Thanks Cap."

Charlie Company of the 2nd Battalion, 26th Infantry, was now 250 yards closer to Berlin.