Impasse (The Red Gambit Series) (43 page)

“A routine probing attack... nothing more, Walter.”

“
Are you sure, Brad?”

Bedell-Smith
spoke into the receiver again, questioning the General on the other end more closely.

Fro
m the nods, the rest of the officers assumed that the answers he received were positive.

“
Thank you, Brad. If anything changes, let me know immediately.”

“
General Bradley says that Simpson states it’s normal stuff, Sir. Every day of late, somewhere along his line, the Reds probe early in the morning. Nothing too dramatic, probably just enough for their infantry commanders to report stiff resistance, and then curl back up in the warm for the rest of the day.”

With the exception of the morning skirmishes, whole sections of the front had become relatively quiet.
The temperature outside recognised no uniforms or causes above any other, and was equally harsh on the soldiers of both sides. Most of the frontline had become an area of stalemate, where no attempt to advance was made.

Fig#98 - Spectrum Blue Operational Area, The Front Line, December 1945.

That was particularly true of the Hürtgenwald, scene of intense fighting during the German War, where the boot was now on the other foot, with US divisions in defence on favourable terrain.

Everything seemed right; was right.

Eisenhower lit another smoke from the dying cigarette he had started at the sound of the telephone ringing and Bradley’s first words.

He went through his checklist yet again.

‘The plan is good, and we’ve been over it time and time again...check.’

‘
Weather...good as it can be for us...check.’

‘
Enemy responses...none as yet...check.’

‘
All assets in place...all in place...check.’

‘
Supplies...we’re well provisioned and want for nothing...check.’

‘
Morale...spoiling for a fight, so George says anyways...mind you, so does Guderian...in his way...check.’

The cigarette leapt to and from his lips with every thought.

Suddenly, the filter stopped a few millimetres from Ike’s lips.

‘
Feel worse than D-Day, don’t you, bud? So what’s wrong then, eh?’

The answer would be supplied before midday.

“This is worse than fucking Kursk.”

Petrov couldn
’t argue, as he hadn’t been present at the great defeat of the German invaders.

Not that it mattered
, as he knew what his commander, Marshal Kirill Meretskov, Konev’s replacement as OC 2nd Red Banner, meant.

Anyway, the Marshal hadn
’t been there either.

They had done the best they could in the time they had been given, the hours since the warning spent adjusting, preparing, reinforcing,
replenishing, and waiting.

Above all... waiting.

Petrov knocked back the small vodka the two men had permitted themselves, placing his empty glass alongside that of his boss.

Meretskov finished reading the letter from his protégé, the young Stelmakh, folded it
, and put it back in the envelope, his mind suddenly filled with thoughts of his old comrade, Georgii Stelmakh, killed by the Luftwaffe in 1942.

He waived the envelope at Petrov.

“The boy’s doing well, Tovarich. Just like his old man it seems.”

Permitting himself a smile at the memory of his old friend, Meretskov stretched
, and watched as the clock ticked its way to 10 o’clock.

“
It is begun, Ivan.”

As if to emphasise the moment, a phone rang, its trill sounding more urgent than normal to the ears of men whose wait was now over.

Hitler had done it in 1940, and again in 1944.

It had seemed more than reasonable to the Allied planners that their forces could do it going the other way in 1945. Better supplied, better equipped
, and with air superiority over the battlefield.

One thing that was not really appreciated was the
difference in opposition.

In
1940, it had been an unprepared and poltically demoralised French Army.

Four years later, in the main, it had been US Army units that received the onslaught,
many new to war, some more experienced but so tired and battle weary; all unprepared.

The element of surprise had been key on both occasions.

The lack of it was to be key to many a young man on this occasion.

Allied plann
ing for the opening of Spectrum Blue, the opening ground attack of the Spectrum Operations, required fighter-bomber strikes throughout the rear areas of the Soviet front, particularly to deal the legendary Soviet artillery a deathly blow.

Heavy bombers were targeted against the crossing points on the Rhine and other watercourses, both hamstringing any movement of reserves and munitions
, as well as denying an escape route for the frontline formations.

On the ground, three main thrusts pushed out from the Allied lines.

From Nuess and Wersten came the German 101st Korps, pushing down the Rhine on either bank, its sights set firmly on Cologne.

To the south, US 17th Corps, part of US Third Army under George Patton, was tasked with making the running through the Ardennes to meet the German Korps at Cologne, trapping 6th Guards Tank Army and 5th Guards Army in a pincer movement.

Additionally, US 3rd Corps was to assault towards Koblenz, and the junction of the Mosel and Rhine.

Whilst the land was white, there was no falling snow
, and visibility was excellent across the battlefield, permitting ground-attack aircraft to successfully engage, bombers to hit their intended targets, and artillery spotters to bring their enemy under close scrutiny.

The Allies advanced relatively unopposed.

Up to two minutes ago, the advance had been a relative breeze, with only the occasional resistance from a seemingly broken Red Army.

Signs of hasty flight were everywhere, although not all
Soviet soldiers had managed to escape.

Only at Reuth had it been a problem
for the 90th US Infantry, and Captain Towers had lost half a dozen men in a few minutes of frenzied activity.

Love Company of the 359th Infantry
Regiment had moved off the main route to check out the small village.

The welcome of the local populace was cut short by the stammering of a DP 20.

Four GI’s and twice as many civilians had been put down in the first burst. Two more of his men died during the storming of the Chapel, along with four of the Soviet soldiers who had been left behind.

Two others found themselves in the hands of the enraged townsfolk
, and were beaten to death before Towers could intercede.

Had he been so inclined.

Love Company had radioed in a contact report and was immediately rewarded by being ordered to take point as the slated unit, King Company, had a mine problem at Stadtkyll.

One platoon of K had attempted to manouveure around the deadly
mined ground, and found itself in L Company’s area, so was swiftly attached to Towers’ command.

So
, with orders for swift movement still ringing in his ears, Towers pushed his men forward, trading a little caution for speed of advance, right up to the point that mines became the least of his problems.

Fig#99 - US forces committed to the assault on Dahlem, 6th December 1945.

Five halftracks were knocked out, some burning, some just resembling Swiss cheese, some of the enemy heavy machine-guns equipped with ammunition capable of penetrating the armour plate. The 12.7mm DShKs claimed victims amongst the men packed in each vehicle.

One vehicle disgorged its crew, the men heading for the cover of a gully that proved to be a deadly nest of anti-personnel mines.

The explosions continued long after the squad of men had been ripped to pieces by unforgiving metal.

Mortar shells were arriving all over the area around the stranded advance party.

Handset to his ear, Towers shouted and waved his fully functioning arm at his men.

“Get back into cover, goddamnit! Baines! Baines! Back there...move back there!”

Fig#100 - Soviet forces committed to the defence of Dahlem, 6th December 1945.

Baines, the NCO in command of the nearest track, missed the message, but knew his trade well enough to order his M5 into some excellent cover, mainly provided by a thick stone wall.

The
woods swallowed up the rest of the men and machines, as Love Company pulled back.

There was a sudden silence in Towers' ear, as the
insistent voice stopped demanding situation reports, offering him a chance to reply.

Towers shouted back into the radio, blood flying from his lips, split open when he collided with the back of the driver
’s seat.

“
Jupiter Six, I’ve five tracks down, including my air co-op... probably twenty of my boys outta the fight. Can’t advance without armor, Sir. The commies have got heavy MG’s cited everywhere to my front, some to my flanks. Mortars coming in all over, accurate too. Ground’s open and all white. No cover at all. I’ve a hatful of men down... I need air... and more men and tanks...above all tanks. Over.”

Fig#101 - Battle of Dahlem, first attack, 6th December 1945.

A mortar shell sent snow and pieces of undergrowth flying over the frozen pond he was sheltering beside.

“
Jupiter Six, yessir, that’ll be great. I’ll wait for them to arrive...”

Apparently,
that was not the Colonel’s plan.

“
Say again, Jupiter Six.”

Towers found himself hugging the snow as the angry zips of passing bullets seemed to grow in intensity and volume.

“Jupiter Six, I know that, Sir, but suicide’s still suicide, and that’s just what you’re ordering me to do.”

Removing the handset from his ear, the exasperated infantryman calmly handed it back to the radio operator and then exploded

“Goddamned son of a fucking bitch!”

A figure tumbled in beside Towers, sending up a flurry of snow.

“Goddammit, soldier!”

Wiping the snow from his face, Towers checked out his
panting 2IC.

“
You’re hit, Harold.”

“
Just a scratch, Cap’n.”

Henderson played with the material, demonstrating the passage of a bullet.

“Get that arm looked as at soon as you can, Harold.”

“
It can wait, Cap’n.”

Towers held out his map, ending the exchange.

“We’re here. They’re here, here and... I guess... here.”

“
Definitely seen fire coming from the road ahead. Nothing from those trees yet though, Cap’n.”

“
Forget air. It’s all gone sour... Colonel Bell, bless him, wants us to push on a-sap... straight up the goddamned road. Barrel through, he says.”

Henderson wrinkled his nose up in disgust.

“Well, that ain’t happ’nin is it?”

“
No way. Neither am I going into the woods to the right there. That stinks to me.”

The two pored over the map, subconsciously registering the decrease in enemy fire.

“Here, Harold, just here. That’s where I’m going. I’ll leave you some of the boys, plus the heavy weapons... and the arty boys. All you gotta do is make enough noise to keep them occupied. I’m going to hook up here, moving left, almost to Baasem... and then come hard up these roads, parallel with Route 110.”

It was a plan
, better than the frontal assault ordered, but the area was restrictive, as was the timescale placed upon the 90th Division, pressure that had cascaded down to find a place firmly on the shoulders of Captain William Speke Towers, commanding Love Company, 359th Infantry.

Both men risked a look over the edge of their cover.

Towers gesticulated right then left.

“
Over there, see? Looks perfect, don’t it? Bet yer ass they’ve sown it all up ready. On the left flank here it’s more open in many ways, but I reckon we can deploy out of sight, and use those tracks and the hedges to get close enough.”

Henderson could see the reasoning behind the call, but
still felt that the left was too exposed, and said so.

“
I hear you, Harold. But we’re behind the goddamned eight-ball. Can’t stay here, and we can’t go straight up the road, so it’s the best I can do.”

A mortar shell arrived nearby, making both men duck. The screams that followed drew their gaze
, and the cries of ‘medic’ told them all they needed to know.

“
Goddamnit! I’m moving off at 1230. Get your heavy weps online to support me.”

He consulted the map once more.

"I think the airfield, up on the left flank here, may be necessary, once we've taken the village, but have your boys ready to switch fire to this area here," Towers circled a patch of trees and open ground around Route 110 as it wended its way northwest, past the old Luftwaffe Dahlemer airfield.

"If any surprises come, I want the heavy weps ready to put down some fire on it, ok? I'll dial Travers in on that
location too."

He checked the air, almost as a dog does when sensing change.

“Best shift the boys some. Betcha this is all vectored too. Keep a good eye on the right flank there, just in case, Harold. I don’t trust those woods. And if the tanks turn up, make sure they come to me first, but hang on to enough to make noise up the main road, ok?”