Devils with Wings: Silk Drop (13 page)

Max was up and off as Paul produced two stick grenades, that were tucked into his belt.

“Ready?” called Paul to Lanz, not waiting for an answer as he unscrewed the base cap allowing the cord, and the porcelain ball attached to it, to fall out, doing the same to a second stick grenade. Just as Paul was about to give the command to throw, two grenades bounced down the street some forty metres away from them and he and Lanz threw themselves to the ground. The grenades exploded issuing forth a cloud of dense smoke, obviously a prelude to an attack.

“Now,” screamed Paul, recognising that timing was now critical if they were to extract themselves from this alive. Pulling the cord that ran down the centre of the hollow, wooden handle and igniting the five second fuse, he got ready to throw it. Counting two seconds, he heaved the grenade as far as he could, quickly followed by Lanz. They hit the deck, immediately pulling the cord of their second grenade. Thirty metres down the street, the two grenades detonated and both were instantly back up on their feet throwing the second pair, the steel cans blasting the air apart seconds later.

A full section of ten allied soldiers had been storming down the street under cover of the dense smoke, the discharge from the first two grenades blowing them aside smashing them into the walls of the houses either side of the narrow street. The second pair adding to their injuries and disorientation, the wounded groaning as they lay stunned on the ground, their comrades too dazed to advance directly.

“Go, go, go,” screamed Paul at his men.

“Come on, fucking move,” added Max helping Kempf up off the floor with his MG. “Their back up will be following through any second now.”

They sped down the street, picking up the men at the church on their way, skirmishing back in good order, always ready to put down a swathe of fire if the enemy got too close, not stopping until they joined their comrades situated in the tree line at the base of the hillock.

Paul grabbed Nadel’s shoulder. “They’ll be preoccupied for a while, but if they’re platoon strength or above they’ll be on our tail soon. Cover us while we withdraw to our extraction point, then pull back to join us. Make sure you move the men off the top quickly, they’re bound to have spotters in the church by now.”

Max interrupted them. “Halm’s had it sir.”

“Damn, well we’re still taking him back with us.”

“I’ve had them rig a stretcher with branches and a poncho.”

“Right Nadel, we’ll leave you to it.”

They hurried along the tree line after Leeb had checked that his full platoon was in attendance. After about four hundred metres they found themselves directly opposite the derelict buildings, that would now be the company HQ and their extraction point. They climbed slowly upwards, challenged by one of Roth’s men who had been put in position to watch out for their arrival. Within seconds he was in conference with his Platoon Commander.

“Show me your defence positions.”

Roth led him on a tour of the building they had occupied. It could probably be classed as an abandoned building as opposed to a derelict one. The roof and the doors were secure and it was relatively dry. Although there was no glass in the windows they had been secured by shutters. It consisted of four rooms in an L shape, three at the front, the fourth on the north end at the rear, all the size of an average family room. Three rooms faced the west and Roth had stationed a paratrooper at each un-shuttered window, the window facing east in the wing room was also manned.

“Where is the 34?” demanded Paul.

“On the roof sir, with two other troopers covering them. I also have two men patrolling the perimeter.”

“Excellent, once we’ve been in touch with HQ we’ll know what to do next.”

He moved across to one of the windows and the paratrooper stationed there acknowledged him and moved aside. He looked out across the top of the hillock and could see the troop that had earlier been dug in, moving north and down the hillside to join their Platoon Commander.

“Bergmann, contact HQ and get a sitrep.”

“Jawohl, sir.”

Paul felt a nudge, it was Max offering him his water bottle. He accepted it and gulped down mouthfuls of the tepid water, reminding him that he had a raging thirst.

Crump, crump, crump. Three explosions outside alerted the soldiers, each man flinching involuntarily as the explosions hit.

“What the hell was that?” exclaimed Roth and Max simultaneously. Paul turned round and joined by Roth, looked out of the window.

Three more rounds straddled the hilltop, throwing up debris and other fragments into the air.

“That’s got to be a mortar sir, probably a British 3 inch,” suggested Max.

The first rounds had bracketed the dug in positions, the second batch were practically on top of where the paratroopers had been positioned only minutes ago.

“They must have spotters in that church again sir,” noted Roth.

“It’s to be expected, but we couldn’t leave any men there, they would only have been isolated and picked off. Max, I need to get in touch with HQ. I want Leeb’s men in the tree line to the north opposite here and Nadel’s platoon to the south. Once they suss out our position they may try and outflank us.”

“Should we send a sortie towards the coast sir, just in case we have to evacuate by sea?”

“Good idea Max, send one of Nadel’s troops, give Leeb’s men a breather.”

Max shot off to carry out his instructions. Paul turned to his radio operator.

“What do you have Bergmann?”

“The attack is progressing well sir. There will be another drop in about an hour for a further mop up. We have orders to hold until the drop and then exfiltrate through to Corinth and join up with the rest of the Regiment.”

“Ok, follow me.”

Paul exited through the only door of the building, facing the olive grove and the town beyond it, Bergmann close on his heels, bumping into the returning Feldwebel.

“All done sir.”

“Come with me, I want to look over the positions myself.”

They ran north down the shallow slope leading to the trees of the extended olive grove, some two hundred metres away, that ran the entire length of the side of the hillock from west to east. They found Leeb’s platoon ensconced there, the Lieutenant leaning against the thin trunk of an olive tree, surveying the area in front. There wasn’t much to see, but row upon row of staggered trees, in the otherwise seemingly well maintained grove.

The platoon commander, now with a bandage taped to the side of his face, informed them, “We’re ready for them sir.”

“How’s the wound?”

“It’s ok sir, looks worse than it is.”

“Where are your men positioned?”

“I have all three troops along the edge of the grove sir,” he indicated with the sweeping of his hand. “But with an MG on each flank, particularly back towards our starting position.”

“Good, they’ll probably take the same route we did so they don’t expose themselves skirting the hill to get behind us.”

“What’s happening over there?” he said pointing towards the bridge and Corinth.

“It’s going well, Ernst. We have the bridge and there will be another drop in an hour’s time to mop up what’s left.”

“What are our orders sir?”

“We hold here until the battalion has landed then all being well we can exfiltrate back to Corinth.”

“Do you think they will hit us here sir?” asked Max

“I think it likely. Although they need to concentrate on the main force, they won’t like the idea of us being at their backs.”

“A Battalion drop will focus their minds a little,” added Leeb with a grin.

“Too true,” said Paul pushing himself off the tree he had been leaning against. “I’ll leave you to it Ernst, I want to look at the rest of our positions.”

Paul, Max and Bergmann weaved in and out of the trees as they tracked their way along the edge of the grove heading east. Exiting at the end of it they were confronted by a shallow rise in front of them, paratroopers could be made out digging shell scrapes on the top of it. Max waved his hand and they acknowledged that they had seen them, the last thing they needed was getting shot at by their own side. They ran across the open terrain, skirting the southern point of the higher ground and after one hundred metres they turned south into another olive grove that ran from north to south along the eastern edge of the Company Headquarters. This time it was well interspersed with orange and lemon trees. They were immediately challenged by the paratroopers who were guarding the edge of the grove.

“Where’s Lieutenant Nadel,” called Max. The two paratroopers pointed back along the grove towards a group of men in obvious conversation. Nadel was talking to one of his troop commanders. They moved to join them.

“What’s the situation?” asked Paul.

I’ve got one troop covering the far edge,” he said pointing back to the high ground they had just passed. “I’ve put a half section on the top of the rise to give us early warning of an approaching enemy. Second Troop is interspersed along the edge of the tree line and Third Troop have just got back from patrolling towards the coast.”

Paul turned to the Uffz he assumed had been in command of the patrol. “What did you see?”

The grove goes right up to a main road running right to left,” he said pointing back towards the coast, “beyond that more trees, but as you come out of them there is a track running down to the sea.”

“Excellent, well done Uffz, that’s the route we’ll take should we need to, or we could follow the road in,” he said turning back to Max and Nadel.

“What’s the bigger picture sir?”

“A Battalion drop in an hour sir.” Max informed him.

“We should be able to hold them here for a while then,” suggested Nadel.”

“Not if they pinpoint us with artillery,” corrected Paul.

“Have we any casualties so far?”

“Just Halm, unfortunately he didn’t make it. I need to get back to HQ, send a runner if there’s any change.”

They left Nadel to it and headed up the slope back to their isolated, whitewashed HQ, one of Roth’s men on the flat roof acknowledging their return, warning the rest of the platoon of their company commander’s approach. They made their way round to the side of the building and in through the door of the first room, where Roth had set up a makeshift HQ. Bergmann immediately set up his radio, knowing Paul would be wanting an update. Paul waited until it appeared that Bergmann’s conversation was over.

“Any change?”

“Nothing since the last transmission sir.”

“Can I smell coffee?”

“Yes Feldwebel, over there.”

Max could see a small stove propped on a pile of bricks, alongside it a steaming jug of coffee. He grabbed a mug from Paul’s kit bag, sorted out his own and poured them both a hot, black cup of coffee.

“If you aren’t hot now sir, you will be after drinking this, but you’ll find it refreshing,” he said handing Paul a mug of the steaming dark liquid.

Paul slung his MP 40 over his shoulder and cupped the mug in both hands, savouring the smell, taking a sip of the bitter tasting drink, making him shiver.

Max took a sip of his. “All we can do is wait now sir.”

Paul looked at his watch. “Thirty minutes and they should be over their target,” he mused.

“We’ve done our bit sir, time to let some of the others do some fighting,” added Max wiping sweat off his brow with his tunic sleeve.

He put his half empty mug down on the floor and removed his helmet, in the vain attempt at trying to cool himself down in the stifling heat of the confined space. The heat had been steadily increasing throughout the day. It was now twelve thirty and the sun was close to its high point, they had been fighting and manoeuvring for five and half hours and Max was starting to feel it.

“Think they’ll give us a breather after this jaunt sir?”

“It was only a few days ago Feldwebel Grun, that you were thinking about becoming a cook.”

“Got to be flexible sir.” They both laughed.

Roth looked over at the two Fallschirmjager. You wouldn’t think they were in the middle of a battle listening to the two of them, he thought. He slightly envied the close camaraderie they obviously had. He had a good rapport with his platoon sergeant, Unterfeldwebel Kienitz. But then there was a bond between all Fallschirmjager, they were all of one family. But the bond between those two went beyond that, he thought. He had talked to Kienitz about it once, he had fought with them both. He too held them in high esteem. There was almost a hero worship amongst the company for the two men. Roth also aspired to be respected by his NCOs and his men and silently admitted to himself that he also looked up to these two soldiers. His thoughts were interrupted by the approaching Kienitz.

“All well out there Unterfeld?”

“At the moment sir, but I don’t doubt they’ll be seeking us out.”

“They won’t have far to look, there aren’t many places we can hide.”

There was a burst of laughter from across the room.

“They seem happy enough sir, so things can’t be too bad.”

“It seems that little perturbs our company commander Unterfeld, but we’re also dependant on others, so let’s go and check the lines again. The enemy could strike at any moment.”