Time to Move!

Source

Three Soviet soldiers on a motorcycle/sidecar combination had been sent down the road to check on something that one of their officers had thought suspicious. A civilian lying on the track whose body had not been there when they had come through the day before.

The three men thought it was a fool's errand as they were supposed to be tracking down rumors of a German armored unit in the area. But what did they know, or care, they were soldiers, they did what they were told to do.

As the driver pulled up, he could see that the dead civilian was a woman. She'd been a pretty one as well. What a shame.

The corporal climbed out of the sidecar, unslinging his PPSh-41 as he did so. He stretched for a moment, looking around, forest to the east, south, and north. There were trees to the west but they were thin, except for one stand of pine which looked pretty thick.

"Yuri, those pines over there, keep a sharp eye on those."

That soldier climbed down off the pillion and unslung his rifle. He yawned, the day was cold and damp, a miserable day, he would much rather be somewhere else.

The corporal knelt down next to the body. She had been shot, the round had come from her left, and her blood was still fresh on the ground.

"Okay boys, let's get back on the bike and head back to camp. Act naturally, no sudden moves. There's a fascist sniper out there, somewhere. This girl hasn't been dead very long."

"Damn it." Fischer hissed as he watched the Russians through his scope.

"Problem?" Seidlitz whispered.

"Yes, those Ivans are on to us, I think. They showed up too quickly, they have to know that she hasn't been dead that long."

"How could they tell that?"

"The blood, it takes time for it to thicken. Hers is puddled there on the road. Why did these bastards have to investigate? Get ready, get your scope on them."

"What? We're going to engage them?"

"Only if they come this way. If they head back to their unit, we're going to run back to our unit and warn them.  If they don't, then we'll have to kill them and get back to the unit. Things will go straight to hell in a hurry if that happens. The Russian reconnaissance unit  will come towards this position, I think the guy in the sidecar was awfully interested in our little wood here. If he's got half a brain, he'll realize the shot came from this direction."

"How can you be sure?" Seidlitz saw that the Russians were heading back the way they came and breathed a sigh of relief.

"She was heading in their direction, they might assume by the white flag she was carrying that she was wanting to contact them. And she fell to the right of the track, meaning she was shot from the ..."

"The left, our position."

"Exactly, now come on, Ivan's out of sight, let's report back. We might have a fight on our hands."

"Mein Gott! We haven't gone fifteen kilometers and we're in the shit already." Oberst von Balck was frustrated. "Oster!"

"Herr Oberst?"

"How far back are those civilians?" Oster turned to Lang and Krafft who had just arrived the command post, "Gentlemen?"

Lang answered, "Maybe two kilometers back, we had a hike to get there and back."

"Were they still coming on?"

"No Sir. They were stopped when we got there, apparently one of their number, a Communist apparently, had gone on to contact the Russians. I think that reconnaissance unit probably passed them by and paid no attention to them. Some leftist decided that she wanted to tattle and went to ..."

The two snipers arrived, panting. Von Balck looked at them and sighed, "Scheiße."

"You shot the woman?" von Balck asked Fischer.

"Yessir, she went down hard."

"And then shortly thereafter the Ivans showed up?"

"Yessir."

Oster interrupted, "From the Soviet bivouac that part of the road might be visible, someone must have seen something and sent the motorcycle to investigate."

Von Balck took off his cap and rubbed his face hard, sweeping his right hand back over his hair before donning his cap again. "Alright, everyone mount up and get ready. Hauptmann Oster, I want your boys to hold here. I'm convinced those recce boys are looking for us, the Panzers are hard to hide. My supposition is that the reconnaissance outfit, or part of it, will head back down the track and contact those civilians. Soon the Ivans will know for a fact that we are in the area."

"For a fact, Sir?" Oster asked.

"Their interrogators can be very persuasive and those civilians will see that giving us up is probably the only thing to save them. My lads, with our armor, will head due west and then circle back ..." he pulled out his map and looked at it hard. Then nodded.

"To here," he pointed at a spot where the road went down a slight valley then back up into yet another patch of forest, "I think we can get there in the time it will take for the Soviets to find the civilians, slap a few of them around, and then come back this way looking for us. In the meantime, Oster, I want your boys to hold here, but deeper into the forest. The Soviet won't go into the woods looking for Panzers, we don't operate very well in the trees. So you should be safe. When you hear our guns firing, then you can come up on us. Hit the Ivans from the rear, panic them, then, God willing, we can be on our way. At least for half a day or so."

"Do you really think we'll have that much time?" Oster asked.

"No, but I can hope."

"Hope isn't much of a plan."

"Best I've got at the moment. If you can think ..."

"No Sir, I cannot. What if they just come straight in and hit us in our current position?"

"That would be excellent, we would tear them apart, they don't know our strength. Our Panthers will destroy their T-34s, they are an older model, and the Wirbelwind¹ will shred their halftracks and their infantry. The motorcyclists will be slaughtered if they try riding their vehicles in."

"Hhmm, they might get lucky and ..."

"Luck always plays a role, I'd rather they come straight on then have to do this dance across the countryside. We'll probably expend the last ammo for the Wirbelwind but what else can we do? We're either going to get lucky, or we're not. We have to react to circumstances as best we can. We're out of options."

Von Balck turned as one of his men reported in, "And?"

"We're in luck Sir, the whole recce unit went down towards where the civilians are supposed to be."

Oster smiled, "Our first bit of luck?"

"Maybe, their commander is probably nervous about being out here on his own, no doubt he wants to stay concentrated so they all went. Now we have to move. Oster, you know your part. Carry on."

As Oster departed to take his men, and Frau Schmitz, deeper into the pines, the rumble of tank engines starting up disturbed the peace of the forest.

Krafft looked back, he was nervous at losing the armor support, but then again, his own group was far nimbler without those steel monsters. They'd made it this far, he felt convinced that they would be better off on their own. He'd speak to the captain about that, he had an idea.

¹ "Whirlwind" - the nickname for the four-barreled 20 mm anti-aircraft gun mounted on the chassis of a Panzer IV tank.

The Communist

Source

Krafft awakened with a start, he had been dreaming again about life after the war. Nothing felt real, he knew some of the people in the dream but he couldn't remember their names. What panicked him most of all is that Liesl was never in those dreams. He wondered about that.

He looked around, was it night already? The forest was so dark, but then he realized that it was still raining, he could hear the noise of the water dripping down through the fir trees which surrounded their bivouac. He looked over at a young soldier, who was cleaning his rifle.

"Johannes, what are you doing here?" For it was unusual for anyone other than Liesl and Lang to be near him like this.

"Uffz Lang wanted me to let you know what was going on, he would not awaken you and he told me to let you sleep."

"So, what is going on?"

"Uffz Lang and Frau Schmitz went back to find the civilians from Groß Briesen. Uffz Lang reasoned that if they kept coming on and missed us, they might blunder into that Soviet reconnaissance unit to our front."

"Why on earth did he take Frau Schmitz?"

"He thought the civilians might not listen to him, he thought they might listen to her."

Krafft grinned, "I can see that, danke Johannes. You can rejoin your squad."

After the boy left, Krafft decided to go to the edge of the forest and see what was happening with the Ivans.

Lang raised his hands in frustration, "You must go back, at the very least you cannot follow us. We might get into a fight and you would all be at risk."

An older woman raised her hand, "Herr Soldat,¹ would you leave us to the mercy of the Russians? What else can we do but head west?"

"My dear lady, out here we are all at the mercy of our enemies. If the weather clears you might be attacked from the air. Some enemy soldier might fire on you for no good reason other than to terrorize you. We are hated now, why can't you see that?"

"To the west," an older man interjected, "the Americans may not love us, but they are not barbarians, like those Stalinist bastards."

Lang shook his head again and looked at Liesl.

She spoke, "Kurt is right, being out here you are exposed. You can't even fight back. Go back to your village, if you don't want that, at least head due west and stop following us. You could get everyone killed or taken by the Soviets."

"Why are you with the soldiers?" one of the women asked.

"I am an auxiliary, an official Wehrmacht volunteer. I am a soldier!" she nearly barked out those last words, she was growing tired of these people.

An older man forced his way to the front of the crowd, "We may be in for it anyway. Frau Wexler set out earlier to find the Russians on her own."

Lang looked at the man, "Why on earth would she do that?"

The man shrugged, "She and her husband are Communists, he is in a concentration camp, Dachau I think. She was never suspected, but she is definitely a Communist."

Another man interrupted, "She's not a Communist, Herbert, she was a member of the Socialist Party before the war. It isn't the same ..."

Lang interjected, "To the Nazis they are the same, socialist, Communist, Hitler wants them all dead."

The people argued further, finally Lang stopped the discussion, "If you follow us, we will open fire on you. We can't let our mission be compromised in any way. So you have been warned."

As he stalked off, the people looked at Liesl, who said, "I'm afraid he's correct. They will fire at you."

Hauptmann Oster saw Krafft approaching and stood up, "Ah Staber, I was about to come collect you. Sleep much?"

"A little, Sir. Are you aware that Lang and Frau Schmitz went to find the civilians from Groß Briesen and warn them off?"

"Very much so, I ordered it and Lang volunteered. Frau Schmitz going along was his idea, and a good one, I thought. Civilians might listen to a lady whereas a soldier might be a bit overbearing to them."

"I see, Sir." Krafft frowned.

"You do not approve, Stabsfeldwebel?" Oster asked sarcastically.

"Not for me to approve or disapprove, Sir. But those civilians are an unfortunate complication."

"At least we can agree on that." Oster said.

Oberst von Balck had two designated scout/snipers in his command. One had been school trained, the other was a talented marksman who was learning from the school trained man. He had posted them to watch over the Russian reconnaissance unit from a location some 200 meters to the east of the unit. He looked up with some puzzlement when he saw the younger man approaching.

"Why are you not at your post, Seidlitz?"

"Oberfeldwebel Fischer ordered me to report directly to you. We have spotted a woman bearing a white flag some 500 meters down the track, heading towards the Russians. Fischer thinks she might be a collaborator, perhaps a pre-war Communist."

"Hhmm, go back and tell him that under no circumstances must that woman reach the Russians." von Balck's concern was apparent in his voice.

"Ah Herr Oberst, that's the other thing Fischer wanted me to tell you, he's going to shoot the woman if she actually tries to contact the Russians."

"Good, return and support Fischer. I need to get the unit up and ready. If the Russians react to the gunfire, we need to be ready."

Seidlitz hesitated, "Uh Sir, can I point something out."

"What is it man? Time is running out."

"Sir, I was a gamekeeper in old Prussia. During hunting season you could hear gunfire all around. Listen for a moment, Sir, listen carefully."

Von Balck did precisely that, he listened. Then it struck him, as a soldier what he was hearing was familiar and he paid no attention to it. Random gunfire in the distance, the soft chatter of a machine gun far away. Rifle shots not as far away, and always, in the background, the rumble of artillery.

"Point taken, Seidlitz. Still and all, we must be ready. Now off you go."

"A commie? Running to the Russians? Damn it."

Lang and Liesl were hurrying back to the bivouac, the troops needed to know what might be happening. As they hurried along a single rifle shot echoed in the near distance. Neither paid any attention to it.

It was one of the normal sounds of war. Nothing to worry about.

¹ Mister Soldier.

Unforeseen Obstacle

Source

Liesl walked quietly behind Krafft, he had neither spoken nor looked around since the march had begun. He put one foot in front of the other, his head down, the rain cascading off of his helmet as he slogged along. She was worried about him, more so than usual. Kurt Lang, marching next to Krafft, seemed to pay no attention to his old comrade's state.

She turned and looked to the rear, the civilians that had left Groß Briesen had fallen behind. Though the soldiers were exhausted and on half-rations, they were used to such things. Most of the civilians had walked no further than the market for most of their lives. The elderly among them had once been active farmers, man and wife both, but those years were long in the past. Those who might have kept up had found their graves from North Africa to the North Cape of Norway during this now hated war.

"Kurt, where are the people of Groß Briesen? I can't see them."

It wasn't Lang who answered, "They've stopped Liebling, they can no more keep up with us than they can survive the coming fury out of the East. Unless we are very, very careful, our corpses will fertilize this soil as so many have before us. This land has known its share of death and destruction. We're merely the latest victims."

Lang scoffed, "Victims Dieter? We are not the victims here, we are the cause of our own destruction. We believed the lies of the politicians, well, more accurately our parents believed those lies."

Liesl wondered what Lang was talking about. "What lies are you talking about, Kurt?"

Again, it was Krafft who answered, "The lie that the army didn't lose the 1914 war, the lie that the home front stabbed the army in the back. My grandfather, just before he died, told me that Hitler and his lot were a bunch of lying bastards. No different than any other  group of politicians but a lot more bloody-minded. He remembered the war until his dying day, he told me bluntly that they weren't really defeated, but they didn't win either. When I asked him why his unit was marching home when the Armistice was declared, he said 'we decided that we weren't going to die for the Kaiser or anyone else, so we quit.'"

"Which is precisely what we're doing, right Dieter?" Lang asked.

"Not really, we have decided to surrender to a people who we haven't terrorized for four years. If you'd seen what we saw in the East, Liesl, you'd understand."

She had no answer for that. She had heard rumors, one letter that her husband had written not long before he was killed, and brought home by a wounded friend of his who'd made it out of Stalingrad before the end, had told her of the thousands slaughtered in the East, military and civilian. She had burned the letter, afraid it might be discovered, when she had read the words of her husband's unit helping the Einsatzgruppen round up men, women, and children for execution. She had heard from others of this as well. The police had tried to suppress such information coming out of Russia, but it got out.

She wondered if the Germans deserved whatever the Soviets wished to mete out to them. Surely not all of us are guilty, she thought, surely not.

Shortly before daylight one of the Panthers broke down. Oster's battalion, the rear guard, came upon it, sitting beside the forest track, its crew trying to repair it. Apparently to no avail, because the tank commander accosted Captain Oster and asked for permission to join his battalion.

"By all means, Oberfeldwebel, we can't supply you with weapons but you're welcome to march with us." Oster had answered the man.

"We have weapons, MP 40s and pistols mostly. We also have the 42 mounted on top of the turret and plenty of ammunition for it."

"Ah then, talk to my heavy weapons platoon leader, Oberfeldwebel Weber, you can't miss him, big fellow. Red hair, he should be along shortly. Tell him you have Oster's blessing."

The tank commander looked puzzled, why was the captain talking about the blessings of Easter,¹ but he said nothing, just nodded.

Within minutes, as the crew retrieved their possessions from their vehicle, the tank commander saw the man the captain had mentioned. A sergeant, very big with flaming red hair, to include an impressive mustache, came down the track, an MG 42 across his shoulders.

The tanker stepped into the path, "You must be Weber, I'm Stoltz, your battalion commander said we should link up with your platoon. Our Panzer shit the bed and now we're infantry."

Weber looked the man up and down, "I see you have your own 42, excellent."

Looking at the bedraggled tankers standing sodden and forlorn next to their broken down Panther, Weber added, "You lads wouldn't have anything to eat would you? My stomach thinks my throat has been cut."

The tanker shook his head, "Sorry, but we ate the last of our ration bread last night. Is the whole battalion without rations?"

"Damned near." Weber gestured at the men, and now the tankers he had inherited, "Fall in,  let's move."

When the dawn broke, the civilians were well back from the column. Krafft thought for a moment about sending someone back to check on them, then decided that it wasn't worth the effort. Besides which, something was happening to their front which was concerning.

Apparently a Soviet reconnaissance force had been spotted between the patch of forest they were in, and the forest they wanted to get to today. Though the weather was miserable, meaning enemy aircraft wouldn't be overhead, that wouldn't stop the men on the ground, who were squarely in their path, from spotting them.

Oberst von Balck called Oster and his senior sergeants, which included Krafft, to the front of the column. Krafft went to the edge of the forest and got his field glasses out. What he saw concerned him, but not a lot. He crawled back to the temporary command post.

Oster looked at him, "What say you, Dieter?"

"Armored reconnaissance battalion, or more precisely, elements of one. I saw three T-34s, some American halftracks loaded with infantry, some motorcycle infantry, and a mortar platoon."

Von Balck nodded, "That's what I presumed. We haven't been in the East long enough to be familiar with Soviet orders of battle, you have. Recommendations?"

One of the Hermann Goering senior sergeants suggested, "Wait and see if they move on before we continue."

"If they don't?" Oster looked at the Luftwaffe tanker with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know, Herr Hauptmann. We're not low on ammunition, but if we expend a lot here, not only will it attract attention, but we'll waste bullets we might need later. I say we wait. Those recce boys don't like to sit still for any length of time."

Krafft spoke up, "I say wait, recce units have radios, unlike a lot of lower level Red units."

Von Balck chimed in, "And radios can bring down hell on our little group, we don't need that. I'm leaning towards waiting."

Oster said, "Give me a minute," then he slipped away, he was gone for nearly fifteen minutes, when he returned he was shaking his head.

"Looks like they're setting up camp, odd seeing how it's nearly daylight. I'd expect them to move during the day and hole up at night, there is something I'm not understanding here."

One of the Panther commanders stepped forward, "I propose we wait a couple of hours, let the boys get some rest, if those Ivans are still there after that, we hit them, hard."

Von Balck shook his head, "Moving our Panzers up will take time and make noise. If we were in position when they arrived, I'd agree. But now? I'm afraid we have to wait the day and see what they do. We aren't concentrated enough to hit them and hope to get them all."

Oster nodded, "I concur, we wait."

It was going to be a long day.

¹ In addition to being a family name, "Oster" is also the German word for Easter.

The Plan

Source

It started raining in the late afternoon, the clouds were low and it was getting very misty. Oberst von Balck decided that, since everyone was ready, they'd start moving immediately. Oster's battalion was detailed to bring up the rear and make sure that no one was following them.

Oster had told Lang to keep Krafft occupied at the rear.

"Seems an odd request, Herr Hauptmann."

"For one thing, Unteroffizier Lang, it's not a request, you understand, ja?"

Lang nodded, "Aber natürlich, Herr Hauptmann, but you don't do anything without a reason. I'm just curious, that's all."

Oster looked around, "Oster is not in the habit of explaining things to his subordinates, but I will, this one time. We have a prisoner, an American."

Lang's face lit up, "Ah, the bastard who gave me my newest scar."

"Precisely, as Stabsfeldwebel Krafft isn't really himself lately, I thought that keeping him out of sight of the man who nearly killed you and Frau Schmitz might be smart."

Lang nodded, "Understood, Sir. I'll keep Dieter occupied."

Von Balck had explained to Oster that they were leaving two of the Panthers and their remaining trucks and halftracks behind. Fuel was an issue and they only had enough to keep five of their armored vehicles running. And leaving the Flak wagon behind wasn't an option.

"Besides. both of those Panthers have been having mechanical issues. What I wouldn't give for a couple of Panzer 4s right now."

"You don't like the Panther?" Oster had asked in some surprise.

"The beast is too damned finicky, the 4 is more reliable."

Von Balck had also pulled his map out to show Oster what they were facing. Von Balck's map was marked up with colored pencil, he spread it out and began explaining his plan.

Source

"The red and white is the village of Groß Briesen, the yellow circle is Tangermünde, where we hope to find a bridge. The yellow line marks my proposed path, keeping to the forests as best we can even while moving at night. I've marked the last leg to the bridge in orange."

"It's all in the open, a dangerous stretch." Oster observed.

"We might be subjected to Ami artillery fire. I know their spearheads are on the Elbe, but I have had no intelligence that they've closed up along the entire river. I plan to do that orange stretch at night. We'll abandon any remaining vehicles before that. Panzers attract attention and ..."

"We'd rather avoid that." Oster finished for him.

The column stepped off, Oster's battalion bringing up the rear. Though they had tried to dissuade the civilians in the area from accompanying them, they wouldn't be put off. About 500 meters behind the soldiers was a motley collection of civilians, pulling carts, pushing strollers and wheelbarrows, anything which might allow them to keep something of their old home. A place few ever expected to see again.

Goebbels had, in one of his propaganda broadcasts, let the German people know that most of Germany would be left to the Soviets. He was guessing of course, as that hadn't been decided upon just yet, nor did the German government have any intelligence regarding that. Goebbels hoped that the German people would rise up and fight off the "Bolshevik hordes" as he called them.

Most people would rather flee to the west than rely on the tender mercies of the Communists. "No better, and probably worse, than Himmler's SS thugs," one old man had grumbled. So the civilians fled.

"We've seen this before, Kurt." Krafft muttered as he watched the civilians following as best they could.

"The forest to the east of Vietz, I remember it well." Kurt said.

Krafft turned to Liesl, "I wonder how your old Prussian is doing these days."

She smirked, "If he was fool enough to stay, he's probably dead. I doubt the Russians would put up with him for long."

"I, for one, hope not, I rather liked the stubborn old bastard." Lang offered.

Krafft, for the first time in a while, smiled and pointed at Lang, "It's birds of a feather, you two. You're both stubborn bastards."

Liesl smiled, it was good to hear Lang and Krafft get back to needling each other. She wondered if they could keep it up, a Hermann Goering solder had told her that they had some sixty five kilometers to travel before reaching Tangermünde. They had a long way to go to safety and that depended on the bridge still being there.

And whether or not the Amis would accept their surrender.

Von Balck's plan was a long shot.

But it was their only chance.

The Pilot

Source

The enemy Jabo¹ had appeared like an apparition over the ruins of the village. The sky had been overcast, with intermittent drizzle, the wind was rather strong, out of the east. All of that had led to everyone being a bit lax. Exhaustion played a role as well.

Krafft looked up at the chatter of multiple heavy machine guns firing as the roar of the American P-47's engine drowned out his senses. He looked up from the ruins he had been searching, he knew that Kurt and Liesl were out in the open, carrying useful goods down to the unit's infantry carts.

"NO!!"

Krafft ran into the street and saw debris and sparks coming off the cobbled road, straddling his two best friends in the entire world as they tried to dive for cover. He began running as he heard Liesl scream.

Men were screaming at him to take cover as he dashed up the street. Nothing was going to stop him from reaching Kurt and Liesel.

Automatic weapons fire was streaking into the sky behind Krafft. The Hermann Goering boys had a mobile anti-aircraft gun with them, it was engaging a second Ami Jabo rolling into the attack. The roar of the quad 2 cm cannons firing nearby deafened him.

Source

A P-47 streaked overhead, trailing fire and smoke, the Hermann Goering's Flak wagon had hit its target. Krafft didn't care, he saw the rubble where he'd seen Kurt and Liesl dive into the ditch, he dove in after them.

The first Ami Jabo had flown off to the west, his wingman had climbed for altitude then had been forced to abandon his crippled aircraft not far from the town. Oster immediately ordered a patrol out to snatch the enemy flyer.

Lang was lying at the bottom of the ditch, Liesl was cradling him in her arms, tears streaming down her cheeks, sobbing uncontrollably. Lang was, incredibly, grinning up at Krafft, a thin stream of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. More alarmingly, a splotch of blood on his tunic was spreading rapidly, his hands were there, trying to put pressure on the wound.

In his best parade ground voice, Krafft bellowed, "SANITÄTER!!"

Obergefreiter Schurz came running, jumping into the ditch and shoving Krafft out of the way.

"Jesus Adolf, it's not that bad. Ignore my mouth, I bit my tongue. The belly is just a scratch."

Schurz got Lang's tunic open, he saw that the man had indeed been lucky. A fragment of something had scored a long gash along the side of Lang's abdomen. Schurz cleaned the wound, using the last of his gauze to staunch the bleeding, then bound it with a torn scrap of cloth, wrapping it around Lang's torso.

"You scared me, Kurt." Liesl said softly. Then she looked at Krafft, he was trembling and crying soundlessly.

"Dieter, he's okay."

"Ja genau, snap out of it Dieter." Lang chimed in.

While Lang was okay, Krafft was far from okay.

Schurz told Liesl to get Krafft something to eat, he was in shock according to the Sani. "He just needs to rest a bit."

Schurz began gathering his kit, giving Lang a stern reminder to keep the wound clean. Then he examined Krafft.

The tears continued to stream down Krafft's cheeks. He looked at Schurz, "I'm okay, I think. I'll be okay Adolf, really."

Schurz shook his head and walked off to check on the rest of the men.

Liesl reached out and touched Krafft's hand, "Are you sure you're okay, Dieter."

He looked into those eyes which had stolen his heart the day he met her and said, softly, in almost a whisper, "I saw your death. I saw Kurt's death. The only two people in this world I have left, the two people I," he paused and took a deep breath, "the two people I love more than anything else. I saw you both die. I was convinced."

She took him in her arms and hugged him hard, she glanced at Lang, who nodded and went off.

"Dieter?"

He shuddered then leaned away from her. One hand went to her cheek, he brushed it with the back of his hand. "Dear God, I love you so much, it hurts."

All she could say was, "I know."

The men found the enemy flyer about to be killed by a number of villagers. He was being menaced with a pitchfork, one of the villagers, a farmer by the look of him, turned to the soldiers.

"This bastard strafed us, he killed two boys tending their sheep. We should hang him, now."

The young pilot, he couldn't have been more than 20 looked terrified. He had seen movement on the road, his brain had said, "Soldiers in dirty winter camouflage." After pulling the trigger, he'd seen that they were indeed sheep.

His lead had radioed him that there were tanks further back, "Come on back and give me a hand, Shorty."

He had banked around and as he saw his lead pull off the target, he rolled in. He could see soldiers scrambling for cover on the street of the ruined village. Shorty (his call sign, he was well over six feet tall) had aimed the nose of his aircraft only to see, at the last minute, one of those Kraut four-barreled AA guns mounted on a tank body.

He pulled up but a little too late, at least ten 20 mm rounds had punched through his aircraft, one in the engine, another hitting the armor he was sitting on, the rest shredding the tail of his aircraft.

As he struggled for altitude, desperate to make it back over the Elbe to friendly territory, he realized he wasn't going to make it. When he had enough altitude, he jumped. He swore as he saw he was near the village where he'd strafed the sheep. Damn it, those folks are probably pissed, he thought.

"Leave him be, we'll take him," the sergeant commanding the patrol ordered.

One of the farmers thought to protest until one of the soldiers raised his K98k and aimed it at him. He raised his hands and muttered, "He's yours."

"Thank God you boys ..."

The man who had threatened the farmer broke the pilot's jaw with the butt of his rifle, "Halt die Klappe, amerikanisches Schwein.²"

The sergeant barked, "That's enough, let's get him back to battalion."

Krafft was huddled in the ruins of a house, he was still shivering. He was definitely in shock, even though Liesl kept telling him that she was okay, she wasn't hurt.

"What about next time? I can't bear to lose you, now that I've found you."

"Did you love your wife, Dieter?"

"Yes, of course, very much, but ..."

"I know this is different, Liebling.³ We have been thrown together by circumstance, you don't love me, as a person, you love me for what I represent."

Krafft looked at her, into those eyes, his shivering stopped. "I know that, Liebling, I know that very well. You represent everything I have lost. You represent, I don't know, a second chance at happiness. At love."

She shook her head and went to him, "You're an idiot, you know that, ja?"

He sighed and muttered, "Ich weiß.⁴"

"How far is the Elbe from here?" Oster asked the pilot. Though the Sani had treated him, he was in a lot of pain. The medic was out of painkillers.

Shorty grimaced, "'About thirty miles, give or take."

Oster looked at Unteroffizier Müller, a Hermann Goering soldier who spoke English.

"He says thirty miles, Herr Hauptmann, about 47 kilometers."

Oster looked at his map, then took the map his men had taken from the pilot. Looking at his map, he figured that the village they were in was Groß Briesen. He compared that to the pilot's map. Orienting himself to that, he showed that map to the pilot, "Wir sind hier, um we are here, yes?" his finger stabbed at the map.

Shorty hesitated then realized, it wouldn't hurt to confirm the Kraut's question. Stupid bastards had lost the war, didn't they know that? In a few days at worst, he'd be liberated and these Nazi assholes would be in a prison camp, or worse.

"Yup, that's where we're at, northeast of here is Tangermoonde (as he pronounced it), we'll be over that bridge in a day or so, sweep up all you bastards."

Oster raised an eyebrow and looked at Müller, who said, "I think he means Tangermünde, on the Elbe. If there's a bridge there?"

"We move tonight, Müller please notify our commander, if he cares to join us?"

"Jawohl, Herr Hauptmann."

The Hermann Goering colonel found Oster at his command post, "Hauptmann Oster, a word?"

"Certainly, Herr Oberst."

"You believe this terror flyer? About the bridge I mean."

"Yes, I do. If we can get there, we can get across the Elbe and ..."

"Surrender to the Americans?"

"Well, yes Sir, isn't that your objective as well? Otherwise you'd be in Berlin, fighting Ivan, nicht wahr?"

Oberst Hermann von Balck grinned, "You see right through me, Oster."

¹ Jagdbomber = fighter bomber

² Shut up, American pig.

³ Love

⁴ I know