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Praetorium Honoris

Friday, February 18, 2022

The Calm Before the Storm

(Source)
Sergeant Bill Greaves was almost surprised, Private Wallace had been behaving himself very well as of late, and now this, his rifle was spotless. Even Wallace's uniform looked exactly how the regulations specified.

"Very nice Wallace, we might make a soldier of you yet."

Greaves moved on to the next man as Private Billy Wallace shot a glance at his mate, Private Connor McGuire. McGuire had to bite his tongue to keep from smiling. Wallace was trying very hard to conform but he had very clear opinions on drill and inspections.

"I tell ye Connor, all this bloody square bashing and these interminable inspections won't stop the bloody Huns when they come charging down from Belgium. First we let the Poles get overrun by Nazis and Communists then we bloody sit here playing at soldier while the poor Finns got their arses kicked by the bloody Bolshies. Why are we even bloody here?"

Not that McGuire didn't agree with his old chum, but at least Billy had learned not to voice his opinions around the wrong people.

Greaves had looked at the last man in the formation and marched to the front. The men couldn't help but notice that it was starting to snow and their overcoats were back in their quarters. Of course, that's when the lieutenant decided to give the men a pep talk.

2nd Lieutenant Joseph Miles-Roberts was new to the regiment, though his family had a long history with the Royal Scots Fusiliers, his grandfather had served in the 1/5th Battalion Territorial Force and had been killed in action at Gallipoli. Family tradition had it that a Roberts had been at Blenheim with Marlborough during the War of the Spanish Succession.

He had disembarked in France only a week ago and had been assigned to command the platoon in which Greaves, Wallace, and McGuire served. When he had left London there was talk of forming an expeditionary force to land in northern Norway and march east to assist the Finns. While assisting the Finns was no longer on the table, some in the government were making noises about stopping German ore shipments out of Sweden by interdicting them in Norway. He had thought about putting in for an assignment to that force, but it was still talk when he received his orders to report to the RSF here in France.

"All right lads, listen up." Miles-Roberts spoke in a tentative tone, softly and it was readily apparent that some of the men in the back ranks couldn't hear him. Sergeant Greaves cleared his throat and gave his lieutenant a stern look. Miles-Roberts spoke louder.

"We're here to do a job lads, just like our grandfathers did during the Great War, support the French and defeat the Huns. I know you're all sick of drill and inspections but that will end, I'm sure, when spring comes. The Huns are just waiting for better weather before they get stuck in."

"Stuck in, what does he think this is, a bloody football match?" Billy hissed at Connor.

"Haud yer wheesht!¹" Connor hissed back at him. He saw that Greaves baleful eye was looking in their direction.

(Source)
Jan Kołodziej had managed to join a work party going into Warsaw, the Germans worked him like a dog. To the Army he was a Silesian, to the men in his company, he was a Pole.

But this work party was another crappy detail, the SS needed men to clean up around the proposed headquarters for the Gestapo. Rather than have their own men do it, they requested help from the Army.

While most of the Army was headed west for what Jan assumed to be the coming attack on France, his own unit would remain in the East on garrison duty. Jan was starting to wish he'd left with the others when Poland fell. But he had to find Elżbieta. He assumed that she would go to Warszawa, she had family there. As he looked at the ruins of the city, he began to wonder if she had survived the battle for Poland.


Elżbieta Chlebek had arrived in Warszawa accompanied by a young Polish lieutenant, Bogusław Gulczyński. They had separated at the train station, she to go to her parents' apartment, he to report to the General Staff. She thought to keep in touch with Bogusław but then decided that that would not be wise. She had told Jan that she loved him, and she did, but he was rather old fashioned. Keeping in touch with another man, an officer no less, would probably anger him.

When she arrived at her old neighborhood, there was nothing left. She had found one man who knew her parents, but before she could ask where they were, he had shaken his head in sadness. She was still reeling at the thought that her parents were dead. Killed, like so many Poles, by the invading Germans.

Now she stood on a corner seething with anger as she watched German troops walk the streets of what was left of her beloved city. A convoy of German Army trucks were passing by as she waited to cross. She had never hated anyone or anything in her life, but for the Niemcy² she was developing a deep hatred.

Oddly enough, she heard her name being shouted, she looked around, the voice sounded familiar.


"Elżbieta! Here!" Jan was stunned, he knew that that was her standing on the street corner, but she looked smaller, and so forlorn. She heard her name and looked up. The look of sheer hatred on her face stunned him.

Then he realized, she didn't see him, she saw the uniform.


She was angry and embarrassed, some of the other people waiting to cross were looking at her, wondering why one of the hated Germans was calling her name. At least she assumed they were looking at her, why would a soldier yell out the name of an older woman?

Funny thing was, the man yelling her name looked very much like Jan. But Jan was in the Polish Army, for all she knew he was lying dead on some battlefield or, if he were lucky, had fled to the West with others she knew of.

"Miss, are you going to cross?" An older man asked her as she stood, staring off into space.

"O tak, dziękuję.³" She muttered as she came out of her trance with a start.

Crossing the street she wondered what she would do next. She had no place to stay and the city was in ruins. Perhaps return to the university in Kraków? But would the Niemcy permit that? She just didn't know.





¹ Shut up (Scottish slang.)
² Germans (Polish)
³ "Oh yes, thank you." (Polish)

20 comments:

  1. Well, that complicates things, does it not? Nice twist Sarge.

    Did the BEF believe they actually could turn the tide, or was it a case of "we have to do something"?

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    1. It's hard to say what the Brits thought they could possibly do in Norway. As it turned out, not muvh. (Though they did cripple the German destroyer fleet.)

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    2. HMS GLOWORM covered herself with glory, but at a very high cost. HIPPER's CO, after the war, contacted the British Government, it insist that they award GLOWORM's CO, the VC.

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    3. It's actually HMS Glowworm (two dubyas), I wrote about her epic fight here.

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  2. At least Jan knows his girl's alive; even if he's dead to her. Sometimes that's all you get.
    I see "meself" in Billy, least his attitude; I always looked "squared away" but boy did I have opinions.
    Boat Guy

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    Replies
    1. Opinions are good, expressing them, well, not always ...

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  3. So angry that she becomes part of the resistance?

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  4. Poor Jan, I hope the post war will be better for him.

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    Replies
    1. Well, he's Polish, things didn't really improve until Lech Wałęsa and Solidarność shook things up in the late '80s.

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    2. They have a long road ahead of them... I've been really lucky all in all..

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  5. Somebody went to a lot of trouble with the gingerbread, on the shutters.

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  6. Somehow those color photos always seem to hit home more than the black and whites.

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    Replies
    1. To me black and white photos say "historical, didn't happen to me," whereas the color photos say "this was/is real and it COULD happen to me." So yes, same here.

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  7. Dang thing ate my comment. Again.

    Your photo selection are always wonderful, and add their 10,000 words worth to each installment. It really is starting to snow in that opening photo, so we know that is Billy and his mates, and the young Leftenant.

    Eager for more....
    John Blackshoe

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Just be polite... that's all I ask. (For Buck)
Can't be nice, go somewhere else...

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