The Beginning of the End ...

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Krafft was watching the two Russians they had grabbed that morning. He had led a small patrol down to the flats near the heights and they had surprised a small party of Soviets who were apparently reconnoitering the defenses. Three Russians had died, two had darted off like startled hares, and the two they had bagged had just been too slow.

He turned to Schütze Bauer and asked, "Reiner, how do you say, 'move your arse' in Russian?"

Bauer chuckled and said "Dvigay zadnitsey.¹ But if you prod them with the barrel of your weapon and point, they'll get the message."

"Yeah, that works too. We need to get these bastards to move faster, I want to be back up on the ridge before sunup."

Bauer nodded and went up to the Russians, who were walking as slow as they thought they could get away with. He muttered something to the two, who looked very alarmed and started moving faster.

"What did you tell them?" Krafft asked.

"I told them that you were ordered to bring in a prisoner. A prisoner. I told them that the faster of the two would live, the other we would kill."

"I think they understood." Krafft noted as they went up the ridge, Lang was out front to let the men in the trenches know that friendlies were coming in.

Von Zitzewitz returned to the company position and ordered the men to pull back to their secondary defenses, some 600 meters further to the west.

"Ivan is going to blast our positions with over 9,000 pieces of artillery in the wee hours tomorrow."

"We know this for certain?" Lang had asked with surprise.

"Yes, the fellows back at headquarters were rather persuasive with the prisoners. Another patrol had brought Russians in as well, their stories all matched. Apparently what you folks nabbed were artillery observers who would be adjusting the fall of shot."

"So we fall back and the Russians blow the crap out of empty trenches," Krafft remarked, "we did that in the last war as well, at least according to my grandfather."

"They're also going to light up the front with searchlights, make it easier for the attackers to spot strong points which survived the barrage," von Zitzewitz continued.

"If we're not there ..."

"Ivan will be lighting up his own guys when they hit the old front line."

"Exactly. So, be ready. Stand to at 0130 hours," von Zitzewitz ordered.

"I want to stay here with you, Dieter. But if you think it wise, I'll go back to the village below us, to the west." Frau Schmitz sounded disappointed, and somewhat worried, as she spoke with Krafft.

"Yes, I think it wise. Fighting here will be heavy and probably confused. We could get separated far too easily if you stay here. If you're in the village, at least I'll know where to find you."

"What if something happens to you?"

"Then head west, fast as you can. The Feldgendarmerie aren't stopping civilians from leaving the fighting zone. Give it a day, if I don't get in touch, assume I'm either dead, or a prisoner."

She gave him a long look, then threw her arms around him, "Come back to me. Promise."

"I will try schatzi, that's all I can promise.

Though expected, when the barrage started the men hunkered down even further in their fighting positions. Even though the Soviet artillery was falling some half a kilometer to their front, the occasional long round hit close by.

"Jesu," Lang offered when a Katyusha rocket exploded not fifty meters away, "that was too close for my liking."

"Damned things aren't that accurate to being with!" Krafft shouted at his fellow noncommissioned officer.

"Doesn't matter if it hits you whether it was aimed at you or not!" Lang shouted back.

After what felt like hours, but was actually minutes, the terrain to their front was lit with a sickly glow as hundreds of searchlights switched on to illuminate the old German defenses.

"What the hell, there's too much smoke and dust in the air to make that nonsense useful!"

Lang noticed that their old positions were backlit. Any Russian coming into that area would be highlighted against the lights.

"Nice of them to light up the firing range like that!" Krafft shouted.

A shout from nearby rose up, "Here they come!"

The slaughter of the Russian infantry was dreadful. Not only were they clear targets to the German defenders due to the searchlights, but the ground below the heights was swampy, slowing their advance to a crawl.

German artillery began firing on the advancing Russians, killing many and driving back many more. It looked for a time that Ivan would be repulsed. Then Zhukov threw in his reserves.

"We need to get out of here, Herr Leutnant!" Krafft bellowed at his lieutenant.

The lieutenant didn't move, he didn't respond at all.

"Damn it, Sir!" Krafft grabbed his officer by the shoulder and shook him. Nothing.

He rolled the man over, his face was bloody, Krafft noticed a large cut across von Zitzewitz's forehead, he tried to brush the blood away to see how bad the wound was, he could see bone.

"Herr Leutnant!" Krafft screamed out, then he started yelling, "Sanitäter!!²"

No one answered his cries, he bent down close to the lieutenant and checked for breathing and a pulse. Nothing. Then he noticed the man's glassy stare.

Leutnant von Zitzewitz was dead.

"Dieter! Snap out of it, he's dead, you can't do anything more for the man. We need to withdraw and the faster the better. There's a big Soviet Panzer just over the ridge and it's killing everything it can. I watched a Panzerfaust hit it and nothing happened."

Lang grabbed Krafft by the sleeve, "Wake the f**k up, man. You can stay here and be dead with unser Leutnant³ or you can come with me and get Liesl away from the town. Ivan will be all over us in minutes!!"

Upon hearing that name, Krafft snapped to life. First he pulled von Zitzewitz's tunic open and snapped off half of his identity disk, then he patted the corpse on the shoulder and murmured, "You were a good man, Sir. Sleep now."

"Let's get off this damned ridge!" Krafft snapped at Lang, then began moving away, gathering what few men remained of the company.

From what he could see as they hustled off the Seelow Heights, he had scarcely a platoon left of the men they had dug in with. The armored car sergeant was still alive of the extra men they had gathered, but he was it.

Lang saw Krafft trying to do a head count, "Twenty eight men, Dieter. That's it. Good news is that we still have our MG 42s, three of 'em, and plenty of ammunition."

Krafft nodded then looked towards the village, a few buildings were burning but for the most part the place was still mostly intact. On the road leading into the village he saw something that he had expected, but which still angered him to no end.

The verdammte Feldgendarmerie! Those bastards never were in the fight but made damned sure that no one could flee. One of those men stepped into the road, MP 40 slung across his chest as if that and his gorget made him invincible. He raised a hand to stop the company.

Krafft needed to give no commands, the men opened fire on their own. The Kettenhunde died to a man. Lang came up beside him.

"Go get Liesl, we'll meet you at the edge of the village, on the road to Berlin!"

"I'd rather not go to Berlin, every Ivan on the planet is heading there!" Krafft shouted back as he turned down the street which led to Liesl's hiding place.

"Ah, but all roads lead to Berlin, nicht wahr?⁴" Lang shouted back with a grin.

Krafft shook his head, then focused on finding Liesl. The world was coming down around their ears.

It truly was Götterdämmerung⁵, but as far as he could ascertain, the gods had nothing to do with it.

¹ Двигай задницей

² Medic.

³ Our lieutenant

⁴ Isn't that true?

⁵ "Twilight of the Gods, a musical drama by Richard Wagner. Meant to represent Ragnarök in Norse mythology. Wagner's work does not accurately reflect the Norse legend.