On Desperate Ground (39 page)

“Where do I go?” asked Dieter.
 

“Here,” Faust pointed. “Bad Schmiedeberg, on the road to Bad Düben. That’s the natural crossing point on the Mulde River, which will allow you to observe where the Americans go once they cross it. There is a castle in Bad Schmiedeberg where you can establish your headquarters. Several kilometers down the road there is an overlook which will make a perfect observation post. Set one up there immediately.”
 

Dieter leaned down to look at the area. The high ground Faust had selected was a perfect observation point, giving a clear view of all the main roads leading out of Bad Schmiedeberg to Bad Düben. If the Americans crossed there, he could easily hit them on any of those roads. The observation post was almost a guarantee.
 

“Will you be here at headquarters, sir?” asked Dieter, hoping Faust would stay behind.

“Of course not.
Leutnant
Stieff will remain here in charge of communications, with one of the armored radio cars and half a dozen men. Civilians temporarily in our care will remain here with him.” Faust paused, again drilling Dieter with his stare. “I will have a mobile field headquarters with the rest of the headquarters guard, the other armored command vehicle and the Ostwind anti-aircraft vehicle. I will travel between you and Strauch as we watch for the enemy’s advance.”

Dieter knew that Faust would spend most of his time with him, since his larger unit had a better chance of success. He also noticed that the Heavy Panzer unit was closer to him than to Strauch, as if they were watching over him. Did Faust suspect anything?

“Wendel, note these dispositions, and be sure to give us good air cover. We can’t afford to get caught in an air raid, like the one that hit Wittenberg.”

“Yes, sir. We lost two night fighters in that raid, but that shouldn’t affect our daytime air cover.”

“Stieff,” Faust asked, “do all units have the codes for calling on air cover and air strikes?”

“They do, sir. We have set up special codes and targets within the operational area. It should take only minutes for our
Luftwaffe
friends to arrive.”

“Excellent. You all have your orders. Neukirk and Strauch, have your men start wearing their American and Russian uniforms under their
Wehrmacht
tunics tomorrow. We must be ready for anything, including enemy parachute landings.”

“What other German units are in the area?” Benedikt asked.

“Twelfth Army began their pullout two days ago, as part of the overall plan. They are moving north towards Berlin. The pullout was done in stages, mostly at night. It should be completed this evening. There will be only a few static FLAK units left in the area. Essentially, we have the Elbe-Mulde operational area all to ourselves.”

The door slammed open as one of Benedikt’s men from the Wittenberg observation post entered. “Sir, sorry to interrupt, but I thought you’d want to know. The SS battalion is heading out of Wittenberg, along the southeast road, the one that runs on the west side of the Elbe.”

“Through Pretzsch and onto Dommitzsch,” Benedikt said. His meaning was clear.
 

“Wait until they clear Pretzsch, then bring in the Heavy Panzers as planned,” Faust ordered. “That will cut them off. Benedikt, you had better take your full company to escort Strauch to Dommitzsch. Take care of this problem fast.” With that, Faust dismissed them.

Dieter went to the room he and Elsa shared on the upper floor of the farmhouse. Elsa sat in the single chair in the room, staring out the only window. It was a gabled window, and she had it open, letting the clean, warm air breeze in over her. The view up the valley, as it rose behind the farm, green against the blue sky, was beautiful.

“You’re going, aren’t you?”
 

“Yes,” he said, feeling guilty while at the same time knowing everything was running at a pace beyond his control. “Elsa, he’s ordered me to leave you here, with Stieff and a few men.” 
“No! I won’t stay behind again.”

“Listen, Elsa. I have a feeling Faust is keeping a close watch on me. I don’t want to give him a reason to watch any more closely. And the SS are searching for us. It could be very dangerous to be traveling around out there.”

“Dieter, it’s very dangerous everywhere right now. What are we going to do? How can we stay together?”

“Tomorrow morning, go for a walk again. Continue on the path we took today, follow it down the other side of the valley and along the ridge. On top of that ridge is a hut for hikers. It probably hasn’t been used in years. Find it. Come back here, pack up your kit, and sleep in your clothes. If the SS come down that road, head out to the hut. In any case, go there after dark in two nights. Slip out of here, don’t let anyone see you. I’ll come to the hut to get you.” Elsa smiled, in spite of her fear and concern.

“I guess I have to believe you when you say you’ll come for me.”

“Yes, you do.”

She looked up at him, and asked when he was leaving.

“Tonight. Midnight.”
 

She stood up and went to the mirror, brushing her dark hair. She put down the brush and began unbuttoning the army issue shirt they had given her to replace her ruined clothes. She finished the last button, then unbuttoned her slacks and let them drop to the floor. Dieter went to her, put his hands around her waist and felt her warm skin, felt her slight shiver at his touch. They kissed, and Dieter let his senses drink in everything, every caress, every feeling and desire, every teardrop he kissed away, every pleasure. He wanted to be with her forever, and he knew he might never see her again. He tried to remember everything.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

16 April 1945

Outside Kossau, Germany

Corporal Mandelbaum slithered out of the line of trees, crawled down the sloping hillside and then up the opposite hill. Mack watched him raise his binoculars and scan the village below, then across the horizon. Mandelbaum turned back to Mack, gave a slight shrug, then crawled off over the crest, out of sight.

Rose turned to Sergeant Kowalski. “Kowalski, take one man and go two kilometers south, towards Aufhausen. Keep your heads down and get back here on the double!”

“Sure, Rosie.” Kowalski tapped Woodis on the shoulder and they were gone in an instant, vanishing amongst the low trees and shrubs in the meadows of the
Dübener Heide
. Rose crawled backwards into the trees, to where Mack and the other men were hiding.
 

“It’s real quiet. I sent Kowalski and Mandelbaum to reconnoiter in opposite directions along the road, for two kilometers. We’ll know more when they get back.”

“Okay, maybe we can make some sense out of this and get the hell out of here,” Mack said. Two nights previously they had dropped into this deserted portion of the wild
Dübener Heide.
They had landed reasonably close together, but there were twin disasters waiting for them on the ground. PFC Rowley, the most experienced radio operator after Corporal Luther Willard, had landed in a jumble of boulders atop a small rise of land. They found him upside down in a crevase, dangling between two jagged boulders, his neck broken.

He was the second of the ten-man detachment dead before the mission on the ground even started. It was not a good omen, and the bad luck didn’t stop there. When they retrieved the two equipment canisters, they found them pockmarked with bullet holes from the night fighter attack. Their bazooka was totally ruined, the rockets for it useless. Far worse was the SSTR-5 radio packed in the container. It had taken a 20mm cannon shell straight through. It was thoroughly destroyed.
 

The second radio, carried by Luther and wrapped in blankets in his pack, fared only slightly better. The wind had drifted Luther onto the edge of the boulder field, and he came down on top of one of the largest boulders. His parachute dragged him off, pulling him backward off the boulder. He landed on another rock, broke two ribs, and heard a crack that he knew wasn’t a rib. The second SSTR-5 was badly damaged, perhaps beyond repair.

They had buried Rowley along with their chutes, then set out north-north-west to Hill 182. The eight men proceeded slowly, allowing Luther to keep up with them. He was wincing with every step, but would not allow anyone else to carry the damaged radio. They skirted the village of Aufhausen, keeping off the roads and to the low ground as they walked through meadows, stands of trees and shrubs, and across streams. The sound of engine noises drifted over the
Heide
from the road, and they could hear trucks in the village.
 

A few hours later they came to the outskirts of the next village, Kossau, which lay below them now, nestled between three rolling hills, with roads leading into the village between each. There was a church, several buildings in a town square, and a few homes clustered close together. They crossed the first road, scurrying across one man at a time, low and quiet. As the last man went over, a low humming sound drew closer as a column of trucks, their lights blacked out, came down the road from Aufhausen. There was no cover except for a stand of trees atop the low hill behind them, where they were forced to hide. The hill was between two of the roads that fanned out from Kossau, and gave them an excellent view of the village and roads.

Unfortunately, it also boxed them in. They had stumbled into the middle of the retreating Twelfth Army. All units south of Bad Düben had been ordered to withdraw in stages, using the country roads that led through Kossau, in order to avoid observation or getting caught in an air raid on one of the larger towns. For two days they waited in the trees. By night, the roads were full of German vehicles. By day, the village was crawling with Germans, as soldiers on foot marched down the roads, taking cover at the sound of any aircraft overhead.
 

Mack had been frustrated beyond belief. He had lost two men and two radios, and now he was in the middle of a significant movement of German troops. Perhaps this was part of Operation Gambit, but that knowledge was useless without a way to communicate it. With no working radio and surrounded by Germans, Mack’s mission was a bust. And Faust was out there somewhere, eluding his grasp even further with every passing hour.

During the two days, Luther had worked on the radio constantly, determined to find the problem. The tubes were both working, and he checked and re-checked the electrical circuits.

“Thing is, Captain,” he’d explained to Mack, “this here radio oughta work. Everything looks okay, but something got banged up when I fell. Problem is, I never worked with this model before. I’ll get it, though, don’t’cha worry!”

The other men were quiet, waiting for the patrols to return. The only sound came from Luther, flipping the pages of the technical manual as he traced wiring diagrams with his finger.
 

Mack edged over to Rose, who was watching the village through his binoculars. There was still an edge of tension between them, unresolved since their near-confrontation on the plane. Mack knew that Rose viewed his sudden enthusiasm for the mission with suspicion, and resented the death of his two men in what he thought might be a private war. Mack suspected his every move was viewed with suspicion. Throughout their forced confinement, they had managed to be civil to each other. There was an unspoken agreement between them to carry on as best they could, knowing that there was nothing to fight about while they were trapped here.

“This is where they say ‘It’s quiet out there, too quiet’ in the movies.”

Rose looked over at Mack and allowed a smile as he lowered the binoculars. “Yeah, and usually right after that a hundred Indians jump up and attack the wagon train.”

“What do you think it means?” Mack asked. It was the same question they had been asking themselves all morning. During the previous night, the traffic on the roads had begun to thin out. By early light, there was no traffic. No sounds came from the village. Every other morning, they had heard engines and the shouts of officers directing their men. This morning, complete quiet.
 

“I dunno. They all headed away from the Mulde River. Maybe the Russians are attacking and they need them to defend Berlin?”

“But that leaves this front wide open for us. Why give up the Mulde line of defense?”

“Well,” Rose considered, “that doesn’t make sense. But all we know is what we see in front of us. Maybe it isn’t along the entire river.”

“No, but we counted more than a full division going through here. That’s a lot for Jerry to pull out, given the shape they’re in.”

“Yeah, well, whatever the reason, now maybe we can leave…” He stopped and quickly lifted the binoculars up again. He watched for a second. “Mandelbaum’s coming in.”

Kowalski was sighted moments later, coming in from the other direction. They jogged bent down across the low ground and crawled up the hill. They were careful to shield themselves from the view of the village, but Rose could tell by the way they carried themselves that the danger was gone.

“Not a soul, Rosie.” Mandelbaum said. “There’s some old folks and kids in the village, but not a single soldier. The locals are all in the square. Looks like they’re as surprised as we are.”