Case Red, Across the Somme

Panzerkampfwagen 38(t) - France 1940
Bundesarchiv

Unteroffizier Willi Hoffmeister was walking back to his tank, the little 38(t)¹ had held up well since the beginning of the offensive. They'd managed to scrounge a new set of tracks for the beast, which the crew had nicknamed "Helga." Officially she was Panzer 223, 2nd Company, 2nd Platoon, 3rd vehicle. He had just come from the Spieß², the unit was ready to move out and hit the French again.

Some of the boys expected an easy time of it, the French seemed in disarray, but Willi had seen the intelligence reports. The French across the line seemed far more confident than the men they had cut off in Belgium. The German tactics were no longer new and unexpected. The French were learning.

"Hey Jean-Yves! Are those guys cops or something?" Sergent Bartosz Podbielski had spotted a checkpoint on the road ahead. It appeared as though the men at the checkpoint were collecting stragglers while directing formed units further down the road. There was a sandbag emplacement just off the road with a machine gun crew watching the proceedings.

Podbielski wasn't really worried, his men had orders, printed orders, though they were out of date by two weeks. He was more worried about Cahun, the Frenchmen was miles from where he was supposed to be, but with the collapse in the north and the evacuation from Dunkirk, perhaps the authorities would be more understanding.

Gendarmerie Caporal-Chef Ferdinand Chaufourier watched as a small body of men, all properly equipped and dressed, approached his checkpoint. Many of the stragglers they had been rounding up and organizing were missing weapons, gear, and even items of clothing, such had been their haste in fleeing the Germans.

"Papers gentlemen, I need to see your papers." One of his men, Soldat Raoul Cormier said as he held his left hand up, palm forward, his right hand resting on the holster of his revolver.

One of the men, a sergeant, produced a set of typewritten papers along with his pay book. As he spoke to Cormier, he kept gesturing to one of the other men in his group. After a few minutes of conversation, Cormier waved for Chaufourier to join him.

"A problem Raoul?"

"I'm not sure, this man, and these to the left, are Poles, all from the same unit. They have papers assigning them to a training course near Abbeville. Their unit is in the east, supporting our Sixth Army, they were ordered back to their unit when the Germans broke through in the Ardennes. They were caught up in the fighting and are attempting to rejoin their unit." Cormier explained.

Podbielski spoke up, "We'll go anywhere you'd like us Caporal-Chef, anywhere we can kill Germans. This fellow with us is French, not one of us, but a good comrade and a wonderful shot. Most of his unit was evacuated at Dunkirk."

Turning his gaze to Jean-Yves, Chaufourier asked, "And you are not with your regiment because?"

Jean-Yves began to answer when Podbielski answered for him, "He was by himself, he had been ambushing small German parties. We saw him take out a staff car just before he joined us."

Then Jean-Yves said, as he handed over his pay book, "My only wish is to kill les Boches, as many as it takes to drive them from le Patrie³."

Chaufourier nodded, then handed all of the papers back. "A noble sentiment Soldat Cahun, I wish you good hunting. Now if you gentlemen would, please join that officer over there," he pointed to a man with a small group of men under a nearby tree. "He is forming a unit of stragglers to dig in along the road here. I believe the Boches aren't far behind you. We shall hold them here, then fall back over the Somme."

Willi Hoffmeister sat in his commander's cupola wondering if the weather could get any hotter. It had been a hot, sunny day so far, it hadn't rained in a while. The French roads were dusty and being the second vehicle in the column, one ate a lot of dust.

He saw the dust plume from the south and wondered if it was their reconnaissance element returning to the column. Two four-wheeled armored cars accompanied by a squad on motorcycles had gone ahead that morning. Willi suspected that the French were across the Somme by now, he also wondered how they were supposed to get across that river. Their bridging column was at least ten kilometers away in the rear.

SdKfz 222
(Source)

After the single armored car turned around and headed south again, Willi's lieutenant, a Berliner named Wolfgang Ensbach, dismounted from his vehicle and waved at his tank commanders to join him next to Willi's tank.

"Alright men, listen up. The scouts made contact with the Frenchies about five kilometers from here, for some reason, they left a bridge over the Somme for us. Perhaps they simply withdrew too fast and didn't have time to take it down. That being said, we're going to make a run for that bridge and get across before the French can react. Questions?"

Georg Feldmann, commanding Panzer 224, raised his hand, "This doesn't smell funny to you, Herr Leutnant? Why leave the bridge up?"

Ensbach nodded and said, "I had the same thought, but the reconnaissance team indicates that the French are further back, entrenched along the edge of a small wood. Infantry only, they didn't see any guns or tanks. I think we've chased them so fast and so far that they are very disorganized. Battalion is confident that they will collapse and surrender as soon as our tanks are across the river. That suit you Georg?"

The other men, with the exception of Willi, laughed. Willi agreed with Feldmann, something didn't smell right here. He suspected a trap. The French were learning, they had met up with a couple of their smaller tanks two days before, though they had killed both of the French vehicles, Panzer 225, Hans Grimmer's tank, had been destroyed, no one had survived the fire and subsequent explosion.

"Go back to your vehicles, we will be moving out in ..." consulting his watch, Ensbach thought for a moment, then said, "... 30 minutes gentlemen. Be ready for my signal."

Willi had a bad feeling about this, he thought that the lieutenant, Hell everyone in the chain of command, was far too overconfident. Not taking the enemy seriously, even one you had been trouncing since early May, was foolhardy. The French were toughening, learning how to fight the armored onslaught. They were even using their formidable tanks more flexibly, not tying them to the plodding infantry but fighting them in units similar to how his own side fought.

As he climbed aboard 223, his loader, Panzerschütze Horst Krebs gave him a quizzical look. "Are we advancing, Uffz?"

Willi nodded and answered, "Jawohl! Once more unto the breach, dear friends ..."

Horst shook his head, "Shakespeare? You're quoting Shakespeare to me? We are certainly doomed."

Willi laughed, "It's all I know of that fellow, I left school to work on my uncle's farm when I was fourteen, never looked back. He liked the Bard of Avon, I did not."

"More of a Wagner fellow aren't you?" Horst laughed as he took up his position in the turret.

"Good God no, too turgid and dark for my tastes, it's Strauss for me! Just don't tell the Führer!" Willi ordered Gefreiter Fritz Weber, 223's driver, to watch the lieutenant's tank, "When he moves, follow."

Horst chuckled and began to bellow out the opening of "The Ride of the Valkyrie" as 223 moved out. Willi just looked at him and shook his head. "I'm surrounded by comedians."

¹ The Panzerkampfwagen 38(t) was a Czech designed and built tank which the Germans took possession of a number of after they had annexed Czechoslovakia. This and the PzKw 35(t) made up a lot of German tank strength in Poland and in France. The "(t)" after the number is how the Germans designated foreign equipment in German service. In this case t = tschechoslowakisch.

² Literally "spear" or "pike," German company sergeant major, equivalent to an American First Sergeant. The Spieß served in the grade of Hauptfeldwebel, which was a position in WWII, not a rank. In modern times Hauptfeldwebel is a rank in the Bundeswehr.

³ French, The Fatherland.