Between the Hammer and the Anvil¹

(Source)

2nd Squad was dug in on a small road somewhere in the Soviet Union, south of Leningrad. In a forest some two kilometers south of their position a group of Soviet soldiers had been cut off earlier in the week and were now attempting to break out. Hauptmann Busch had deployed Acker's platoon to either side of the road, 2nd Squad was covering the road itself.

Fahnenjunker-Feldwebel Jürgen von Lüttwitz was looking down the road with his field glasses. Where the road emerged from the thicker forest, it seemed to be coming out of a tunnel, the trees to either side were so thick.

"Anything Chef²?" Obergefreiter Sepp Wittmann asked as he knelt next to his squad leader. Wittmann was the assistant squad leader, he had dug in with four of the squad's riflemen on the other side of the road. He was in charge of the maneuver element today, von Lüttwitz was controlling the MG 34 team of two men along with two riflemen whose job was to lug extra ammunition for the voracious machine gun.

"Nothing, but I can almost sense something stirring in there."

"Chef, is that a truck engine?" Bodo Hermann said from behind the two leaders.

Wittmann and von Lüttwitz listened carefully, then Wittmann said, "Yes, I hear it too. Truck, maybe a small Panzer?"

At that word, the two riflemen, Hermann and Offenbach, exchanged nervous looks. A moment later though, the engine noise became louder as a small GAZ³ truck came slowly out of the trees. It was overloaded with wounded infantrymen. A small group, perhaps twenty men, walked either side of the truck. The men on foot were nervously watching their surroundings.

"Down!" von Lüttwitz hissed.

Wittmann assumed that he had time and distance on his side, so he scuttled, crab-like, across the road to rejoin his element. When he looked back, von Lüttwitz was glaring at him. But a quick look towards the forest opening and it was obvious that the Russians hadn't noticed him. Still, he knew he would get his arse chewed later.

Stárshiy leytenánt⁴ Rustem Vadimovich Shelomov had a firm grip on his Nagant M1895 revolver, the lanyard he'd lost some weeks ago when he'd used to it as a tourniquet on a fellow soldier. That was before the Fascists had driven them into this forest.

He looked back at the laboring GAZ, poor thing was on its last legs, but Shelomov was determined to bring his wounded out.

"Iosif Petrovich, take Gorbachyov and move up to that boulder near the bend in the road!"

"Da, Comrade Lieutenant!" Mironov waved over at Gorbachyov and began trotting up to the spot the lieutenant had pointed out. It wasn't much of a bend in the road, but it was a landmark of sorts.

When the two soldiers arrived, Mironov spent some time looking at the forest to either side of the road, which was now some fifty meters away on either side. The he looked down the road. Something wasn't quite right there, he couldn't put his finger on it but something made his hair stand on end.

"Damir Yaroslavovich, look up the road, see anything odd there?"

Gorbachyov stared intently, something odd about the grass beside the road. Mines? "I see it Iosif Petrovich, something is definitely odd, but ..."

Before Gorbachyov could finish, firing broke out back where the truck was. 

"Govno⁵! Fascists! And they have a f**king tank!"

Shelomov turned as the firing broke out, a German tank, one of the small ones, was there, infantry were to either side. The tank was firing its machine gun.

"Scatter! Take cover Comrades!" Shelomov ordered unnecessarily, the men were already going to ground and returning fire. But they had nothing to stop a tank.

Gesturing frantically at the truck, Shelomov began yelling, "Slava! Get the wounded to safety, we'll hold here and catch up, if we can!"

For his part Krasnoarmeyets Svyatoslav Larionovich Blinov, Slava to his friends, was already trying to get the old truck to accelerate faster than a brisk walk. Miraculously the vehicle began to go faster. Perhaps they might make it after all.

"What the Hell is that ...?"

"Feuer!" von Lüttwitz screamed as the Russian truck accelerated towards his squad. The MG 34 was firing before he even finished the command.

Oberschütze Leon Schwarz walked the rounds from his gun up from the engine compartment and into the driver's compartment. Steam was already hissing from the destroyed engine and the windshield was starred.

Amazingly, the truck skidded to a halt, then began to back away from the ambush. Schwarz paused for an instant, staring in surprise, then he pressed his cheek back to the stock and resumed fire.

The GAZ went into a ditch, then something in the back burst into flame, probably fuel Schwarz thought. In seconds the men in the back, most of them immobilized by their wounds, began screaming. Schwarz held his fire once more.

Schütze Christian Möller, rammed his shoulder into his gunner, "Finish them Leon, don't let them burn, they're men just like us."

Two more short bursts and the screams ended.

The pain of his wound was almost more than Shelomov could bear. He had seen his wounded die screaming under German machine gun fire. When the truck had begun to burn, and he heard his men screaming in pain and rage, he knew a vast hatred when the German gun stopped firing.

Only for an instant, then the Germans began firing again killing his men, but alleviating their suffering.

He had rolled onto his back, sobbing with pain and anger. He knew his time was short, as he stared into the deep blue of the northern Russian sky he wondered if the Party was right about there being no God. He hoped they were wrong. He sighed, a single word escaping his lips as he died, "Mamochka ...⁶"

"Jesus but these bastards fight hard. I thought the Poles were tough, these men ... Mein Gott." Hauptmann Ferdinand Busch walked about the small battlefield. Not a single Russian had survived, they just kept attacking until not a single man was left standing.

Leutnant Fritz Acker watched his company commander, a man who had nearly lost his life in Poland, his face scarred on the left side, he barely had an ear on that side. Missing a finger from the same action. If the captain thought this was going to be a tough fight, Acker shivered at the thought.

"Herr Leutnant, you look as if you've seen a ghost." von Lüttwitz had been startled by the Russians refusal to quit. They fought beyond reason, beyond any chance of winning.

Acker looked at the field, then at the leader of his 2nd Squad, "Jemand ging über mein Grab⁷, Jürgen."

"I understand Sir, this is a different kind of war. One without mercy, without human feeling. I fear for the men, some of them are already wondering why we're here. First that train, and now this. We shouldn't be here, Sir." von Lüttwitz looked away, he had perhaps said too much.

"We must stick together, make sure our men get home. Even if we don't." Acker was sobered by the thought of more fights like this, and in the big scheme of things, this was but a skirmish.

Hauptmann Busch joined them, "Männer, wir sind zwischen Hammer und Amboss⁸. And Hell waits for us all."

He stopped for a moment with his eyes closed, then recovered, "Get the boys some food, we need to get back to camp, we're catching another train tomorrow."

¹ I was going to use the Russian equivalent, Между молотом и наковальней (Mezhdu molotom i nakoval'ney), but decided to spare you. 😎

² Boss

³ GAZ or Gorkovsky Avtomobilny Zavod, Gorsky Automoblie Plant

⁴ First lieutenant (Russian)

⁵ Shit.

⁶ Mommy (Мамочка - Russian)

⁷ Someone walked over my grave. (German)

⁸ Men, we're between a rock and a hard place. (literally hammer and anvil)