Auf Wiedersehen, Schulz

(Source)

Hauptmann Ferdinand Busch took his time lighting his cigar. Standing in front of him was Oberfeldwebel Erwin Kroemer, his 3rd Platoon's platoon sergeant. Kroemer was slightly nervous, it was unusual for the company commander to deal directly with his platoon sergeants alone, normally the platoon leader was present as well. But Leutnant Klaus Ochs had been grievously wounded the night before when he had stepped on a mine.

"So, Kroemer, why was your officer outside the lines in no-man's-land at such a late hour? Where were you?"

Kroemer shifted nervously from one foot to the other, he didn't want to get his platoon leader in trouble, even if the man might not live. But the reason for the lieutenant's excursion was one Oberschütze Wilhelm Schulz, everyone in 3rd platoon, save one man, was scared of Schulz. Well, not Schulz himself but Schulz's uncle, a man reputed to be a member of the Gestapo, the feared secret state police.

"Was Schulz on sentry duty?"

Kroemer hesitated, ever so briefly, which Busch jumped on. "Schulz wander off again? Is that what Ochs was doing, looking for his errant sentry?"

Kroemer looked at the floor of the bunker, and muttered an answer.

"What? Did you say yes? What is the problem Oberfeldwebel? There was no Schütze Sauer there to save his ass this time?"

"Ja, Herr Hauptmann. Schulz was away from his post, Leutnant Ochs went looking for him. That's when Ochs stepped on a mine."

Kroemer wondered if he would be sent to a punishment battalion or simply be reduced in rank and transferred out of the battalion. He looked back at the company commander and was surprised to see the man was smiling.

"Did you know that Schulz's uncle is not in the Gestapo?"

"Sir?"

"Apparently everyone in your platoon, except Sauer, is afraid of Schulz because the man has hinted that his uncle is 'an important police official,' in other words, the Gestapo."

Kroemer nodded, "Well, that's the story, Herr Hauptmann, he said that ..."

"Did you know that Schulz's uncle is actually a records clerk for the Kripo¹ in Dresden? He is not a police official. He's a clerk. A damned clerk."

Kroemer looked astonished, "So, he's been ..."

"Yes, the man is a liar and has been shirking his duties. The only man in the damned company to see through his act was Schütze Sauer."

"I see, but ..."

"I'm tempted to have your straps² for allowing this nonsense. I'm very tempted to have Schulz shot out of hand. But Major Hassel doesn't agree and, after all, it is his battalion. Also, you have an otherwise spotless record, decorated for bravery in Poland and in France. I suspect that you have some fear of the Party, which is wise, all things considered. So you will remain with 3rd Platoon as its Führer des Zugstrupp³, but another officer will be taking Leutnant Ochs' place. An Oberleutnant from 1st Battalion staff, one Albert Jäger. Do you have any problems with that?"

"Nein, Herr Hauptmann." Kroemer was now standing at rigid attention, which Busch noticed and appreciated. The man was a good soldier, but he needed to do his job, not worry about who was who back in the Reich.

"What about Oberschütze Schulz, does he stay ..."

"Glad you asked, Schulz has 'volunteered' to lead a three man patrol over to the Russian lines to snatch a prisoner."

"He has?"

"Ja, he's taking Sauer and Schwertfeger with him. Make sure they set out shortly after sundown."

"Sir, I ..."

"Dismissed, Oberfeldwebel."

Schütze Oskar Schwertfeger was a big man, 193 cm tall and weighing in at 104 kilos. He had been a dockworker before the war in Stettin but was originally from a small village outside Leipzig. Which is why he was drafted into the 223rd Infantry Division, a Saxon unit.

He was waiting with Schütze Sauer, waiting for Oberschütze Schulz who was, as always, late.

"So Manfred, what's the deal?" Schwertfeger was a rough man, he didn't like Schulz and most of the platoon knew that. He also knew that Sauer was not afraid of Schulz and that Sauer was gaining a reputation in the battalion. Killing three Ivans all by himself enhanced that reputation. Other's pointed out that "Schultz was there, it wasn't just Sauer." But Schwertfeger knew that for what it was, nonsense. Schulz was a shirker.

"We're going to do two things tonight, Oskar. We're going to snatch an Ivan to bring back for interrogation, preferably an officer."

"What's the second thing?" Schwertfeger asked.

"Schulz won't be coming back with us." Sauer said grimly. The suggestion came from the battalion commander himself, he couldn't order Sauer to do such a thing, but he knew that Sauer understood.

Sauer had been keeping an eye on Schulz since the night of the three Ivans, as some wag at battalion had named it. Schulz was never where he was supposed to be, never went on patrol, and always found an excuse to head to the rear. Major Hassel had made some enquiries, unlike Schulz's uncle, Hassel's brother-in-law actually was a policeman, in Köln.

"So you see, Sauer, Schulz has been claiming to have a relative in the Gestapo, which is nonsense. He's starting to affect morale, I can't call him out as a liar, there are some at division who actually believe Schulz regardless of what they've been told and shown. So ..."

"You need to find a way to be rid of him, Herr Major. Yes?"

Hassel nodded then looked hard at Sauer. "I think you're the man to do it. Unless I'm mistaken?"

"Nein, Herr Major, sometimes the herd needs to be culled of its weaker members. When I was raising pigs, well, let's just say, I had to take care of things. Pigs are intelligent, I learned not to get too attached to any of the animals. I'm afraid that's carried over to my dealings with people. It's time to cull the herd, nicht wahr⁴?"

"You're a hard one, Sauer."

"If you say so, Sir."

A hundred meters into no-man's-land, Schulz stopped and waved Schwertfeger and Sauer to cover. "I think this is far enough, boys. We'll tell the Leutnant that we couldn't get close enough to snag a prisoner. We'll wait for a few hours, then head back. Klar?"

Schwertfeger reached around Schulz and pinioned his arms, he also cupped a hand over Schulz's mouth. "Sorry, Herr Oberschütze," he said sarcastically, "but for you, the war is over."

Schulz began to struggle when he saw Sauer pull his bayonet. Schulz tried to scream but Schwertfeger made sure no sound escaped the man's mouth.

After a brief struggle, Sauer wiped his bayonet on the skirt of Schulz's greatcoat. "Well, that's done. Let's go kidnap an Ivan," he whispered.

Schwertfeger looked at Sauer in amazement, he knew Sauer couldn't see his expression so he murmured, "Really? You intend to actually carry out the mission?"

"How else would we explain Schulz's death?" Sauer shrugged, then shouldered his rifle and began to move towards the Russian trenches.

Schwertfeger shrugged as well, then followed.

Oberleutnant Jäger looked at Sauer, then Schwertfeger, then at the badly battered Russian captain lying bound on the trench floor.

"Where is Schulz?" was his first question.

Sauer looked at the ground, then sighed, "I'm afraid the Oberschütze was killed in action, Sir. When we reached the Soviet trenches, we saw a small group of men, this officer and two others. It looked like they were about to set out on the same mission we had."

Jäger stared hard at Sauer, "And?"

"Well, we got the drop on them, but one of them bayoneted poor Schulz. Schwertfeger here took that man's head off with his entrenching tool, then hit the other man in the chest. Meanwhile, I butt stroked the officer. Gently, so he went down, but wasn't unconscious. The second man that Oskar hit was still alive, so I hit him with the butt of my rifle."

Sauer showed the lieutenant the butt of his K98k, it was bloodstained and had bits of flesh still stuck to it. Jäger turned pale, he'd seen things in France, but nothing like this.

"Manfred slugged him really good, Herr Oberleutnant. The man's head burst like a ..."

"That's enough, Schütze, I get the picture."

"This officer looks to be in bad shape." Jäger said as he looked at the man.

For his part the Soviet officer couldn't take his eyes off the two German enlisted men. They had hit his section of trench like a bomb going off. One minute he was about to lead two men into no-man's-land, (as Sauer had surmised, it was to be a prisoner grab) and the next minute his two men were dead and he was at the bottom of the trench with a German boot on his throat.

His head felt like it was going to split, but he resolved to tell these men whatever they wanted to hear. He just wanted to be as far from these two brutes as possible.

Hassel looked at the two soldiers, both at a rather loose position of attention in front of him. Well, sod that, he thought. They got the job done. "Good job, boys. I'm thinking of promoting the both of you, an Iron Cross as well."

Sauer spoke up, "I'll take the Cross, but a promotion? No Sir, I'm a simple soldier, just want to do my job then go home to my pig farm after the war."

Schwertfeger looked at Sauer, then said, "I want to stick with Sauer, Sir. We make a good team. So yes to the Iron Cross, no thank you to the promotion."

"I could order you to accept." Hassel pointed out.

"Yes Sir, you could, but is that what you really want?" Sauer looked at the battalion commander in a strange way.

Hassel noticed that Schwertfeger had an odd grin on his face. It reminded him of a wolf he'd seen in the Harz Mountains on a hike before the war. It said, I can do whatever I like with you, but I won't.

"Very well, then. Again, damned good job. For now, head back to your platoon."

Both men came to a more correct position of attention, nodded briskly, then stepped out of the bunker.

Hassel shivered, "What have I created?"

Both men scared him just a little, they reminded him of men he had known in the Freikorps back between the wars. Men who cared for nothing but survival, good comrades, but they had to be handled carefully. He had known a few killers in his career. Sauer was one.

He smiled briefly as he realized, with more men like those two, they could actually win this damned war. Which worried him, he hated the National Socialists, so he didn't want them to win, but for Germany he would fight.

"From what I've seen of Communism, I don't want them winning either," he muttered as his aide, Hauptmann Markus Kindl came in.

"Sir?" Kindl had a puzzled look on his face.

"Nothing, Markus, just thinking out loud. Did you see the two men who just left?"

"Yes Sir, Schwertfeger and Sauer, couple of real nasty types there."

"I want the Cross for both of them."

Kindl nodded, "Zu Befehl, Herr Major⁵."

As Kindl left the bunker, he shook his head, "What have those two done to deserve the Eisernes Kreuz? I'll talk to their platoon commander, no, he's new, I'll talk to their Führer des Zugstrupp, Kroemer. He'll know what's what."

¹ Kripo - the Krimanalpolizei, criminal police, responsible for law enforcement.

² Rank in the German military was (and still is) denoted on the soldier's epaulettes, the shoulder straps on their tunics. Lower ranking enlisted would have stripe(s) (one to three inverted chevrons depending on the year) on the left sleeve, but more senior personnel wore their rank on their shoulders.

³ German equivalent of a platoon sergeant, literally the "leader of the platoon section." The platoon commander was called the Zugführer, literally "platoon leader."

⁴ Literally "not true" but the meaning is along the lines of "isn't that true?"

⁵ At your command, Major.