Questions

Bundesarchiv

"Well?"

Gefreiter Hans Schreiber set the barrel of the MG 34 down on the wooden crate in front of him and sighed, "You ask too many questions, Manfred."

Sauer shook his head, he expected more from his squad's assistant squad leader. Schreiber was an old hand, he had been with the division since Poland, surely he saw a bad plan when one was presented to him.

"Look, maybe we're not supposed to ask questions, maybe we're just supposed to do as we are told. I'm sure the brass know what they're doing." Schreiber spoke heatedly. He liked Sauer, thought the man a good soldier for such a Neuling,¹ but there were times he pushed a little too hard.

"Like the Light Brigade at Balaclava, eh Hans?"

"Precisely!" Schreiber picked up the MG barrel and began remounting it.

Sauer raised an eyebrow, "I'm not sure what you mean, Hans. Wasn't that a huge f**k up?"

Schreiber sighed and shook his head, "Yes, it was. But there are times that die Bonzen² do know what they're doing and just don't have time to explain it to every Hinz und Kunz³ who might want to know. Maybe they don't know what comes next. But we're out here on the line, things are tough and you know it, if the Ivans punch through to Leningrad things will go to shit in a hurry."

"I get that but ..."

"I don't think you do, Manfred. So the Russians appear to be making ready for a serious push, they've thinned out their line, leaving an inviting soft spot. Maybe they hope we don't notice, maybe they think we'll be too busy fighting off their attack to notice it. But notice it we did. The chiefs want to put a platoon in there, quietly, hoping the Ivans don't notice, and when the Ivans attack, we shoot them in the back."

Schreiber took his helmet off, straightened out his toque, then resettled his helmet. He then turned to look at Sauer.

"It's possible they don't know what they're doing, that's always a possibility. But what if this works, breaks up the Russian attack?"

"What happens to us, Hans? What happens to we Frontschwein up on the line if it doesn't work? Or if the Ivans fall back and overrun us."

Schreiber looked away, his eyes staring into a distant place only he could see, "Then we die, Manfred. We die. We're soldiers, that's our lot."

"So that's it then? We're just f**king pawns?" Schwertfeger was incensed.

"You play chess, Oskar?" Ziegler was amazed, Schwertfeger seemed like such a brute, perhaps he had misjudged the man.

"Perhaps I do, perhaps it's just an expression, it doesn't matter. We're to be sacrificed, maybe, maybe not. But I don't like it."

Sauer looked around, none of the squad's leadership was around, so he felt he needed to calm the men down. "Look guys, I get it. It feels like we're getting thrown away, but what if it works?"

König spoke up, "I don't like the idea that they shove us out there, in the middle of the Russian position, and just sort of hope everything works out. Where's the rest of the plan? This all seems pretty half-ass to me."

König's buddy Schmidt seconded that, "It's bullshit, Manfred. I don't see the point of the entire exercise."

Sauer let the men grumble for a bit, then he spoke.

"Look. we've been sitting here in these freezing f**king trenches for weeks now, we kill a couple of Ivans, take a prisoner here and there, they do the same. We're in a siege, trying to starve out Leningrad. It's classical shit, Männer,⁴ we can't punch into the city, we don't have the strength. They can't punch out, for the same reason. The Russians have to try and break the siege. We get back there, behind them, and when they attack, we bite them in the ass!"

Ziegler spoke up, "It could work."

The squad all looked at him, Schütze Volker Lang, the assistant machine gunner, scoffed, "Kindermund tut Wahrheit kund.⁵"

Sauer stood up, "Ziegler's right, it might work, but not if we go into it doubting everything. You guys know the drill, you've been around, together since France, right?"

Schwertfeger nodded, "You and Ziegler are the newbies, but ..."

"But what?" König snarled.

Schwertfeger stood up, he was big enough that he had to stoop over to stand up in the confined space, reminding everyone again just how big the man was. "But they're right. Ziegler and Sauer. Sauer's the toughest bastard in this squad. If he's willing to give it a shot, then so am I!"

At that very moment, Groß and Schreiber stepped into the dugout, "Give what a shot, Schwertfeger?" Groß demanded. Schreiber stood behind Groß wondering what mischief the men were up to.

"The plan, Herr Unterfeldwebel, some of the guys have doubts, we were discussing ..."

Groß shook his head, "Scheiß egal⁶ what you idiots think. We're moving out an hour after sunset, when the artillery starts. Get your gear together, it's going to be a long night!"

The night was cold and the snow was starting up again. The men had all whitewashed their helmets and all were wearing various items of white cloth, mostly bedsheets, over their greatcoats. In the swirling snow they were hard to see from even a few meters away.

Groß had Sauer and Schwertfeger bring up the rear. His squad was the last in the platoon column as they snaked their way through the trenches towards no-man's-land.

When they reached the jump-off point, Oberfeldwebel Kroemer was there to direct the squads to their positions. He pointed to his left, Groß' right, indicating that his squad was to be on the right flank of the advance.

Groß held his hand up, making the men wait as Sauer and Schwertfeger made their way to the front of the column.

He hissed at the two men, "You guys are on the flank, nearest the Russians, Manfred you go out first, Oskar, you keep an eye on the rest of the squad. Slow and easy, the artillery should be starting ..."

He was interrupted by the sound of German artillery projectiles overhead. When the first shots exploded, Groß gestured at the men to deploy. Moments later, the platoon was over the lip of the trench and moving into no-man's-land.

Oberleutnant Albert Jäger had a clear picture of where they were supposed to be in his head. Now if he could only match what he had seen on the map to what he was seeing in the dark. Kroemer hissed in his ear.

"Sir, bear slightly right."

Jäger paused briefly, then he saw it, the rusted out hulk of a Panzerkampfwagen III, knocked out by the Russians in the late fall. That and the small depression next to it, a pond in warmer times, and he recognized where he was. Just another two hundred meters and they'd be there.

Hopefully the intel from regiment was good and the Russian position ahead of them was empty.

 

Schwertfeger stumbled and fell into a hole, two startled Russians were staring back at him. He could barely see them, but their eyes shown in the dim light from a nearby fire lit by the barrage.

One of the Russians muttered, "Kakogo cherta?⁷"

The Russian who spoke began to gasp and writhe in pain as he was grabbed from behind, his mouth covered as a fighting knife slid into his brain.

Schwertfeger had already kicked the other Russian in the crotch, hard. That man rolled into the fetal position as the pain of his crushed testicles overwhelmed him. Schwertfeger's knife ended his agony in short order.

"What the f**k, Oskar?" Sauer hissed at the big man.

"Listening post I guess, stupid f**ks were half-asleep when I dropped in on them."

"You scared the shit out of me, watch your step."

After that brief exchange, the two men were on the move once more. Slipping like wraiths through no-man's-land.

Jäger saw the trench at the last minute, barely escaping from tumbling into it head over heels. Kroemer was right behind him. The trench was deserted. The intel had proven correct!

"Oberfeldwebel Kroemer, get the men set-up, make sure the machine guns have good fields of fire. I want to sweep the area to our left front. I also don't want any stray bursts going into our own lines."

"Jawohl, Herr Oberleutnant, may I suggest we use the runners and the Pferdehalter⁸ to cover our rear? I'll take charge of them."

"Excellent idea, Erwin. Do it!"

Jäger's platoon was set up and ready as they could possibly be. There was still the chance of Russian reserves further to the rear which might come up and hit them from behind. But so far the intelligence gleaned from a captured Russian political officer had proven good.

Now they waited for daylight, when the reported Russian attack would commence.

Then they would discover if there was any hope of coming out of this alive.

¹ Newbie.

² Fat cats, big shots, generic term for "the brass"

³ Hinz and Kunz (short forms of the names Heinrich and Konrad) is a German idiom and synonym for everyone. (Source) The English equivalent is "every Tom, Dick, and Harry."

⁴ Men.

⁵ Out of the mouths of babes, i.e. children tell the truth.

⁶ Don't give a shit.

⁷ What the heck? (Какого черта?)

⁸ Horse holder. Each platoon had one or more horses for the carts they were issued to carry extra ammunition and gear. Remember, the German Army wasn't all Panzers and Halftracks!

Editor's Note: Sorry for the excessive footnotes, but I like throwing German idioms into the mix. Makes it more authentic, I think.