Chapter 11: Escape

     The Wehrmacht's hot on our heels. We're half a step ahead. Need to find some place to hide. Mud brick houses aren't good enough. All we have is a Schmeisser and a Kar98. Scarcely forty rounds between us. This is not good. We're zigzagging through these streets. Worse yet, I'm running out of breath. We hear the Germans yells, they sound like Wagnerian knights. They're terrifying. Gotta get out of here. Those men that were on the tank... they weren't like this... were they?

     We burst through the door of some house. A woman is in here. She's screaming. Can't let her scream. I get Pyre to get a pillow, make sure she won't keep on screaming. Baby's screaming. God dammit why did it have to be kids. I hate kids.

     Then everything is quiet.

     The jackboots of the Wehrmacht eliminates the silence with earth-shattering clonks. All the weight of the world is upon us. We're dead silent. As are the people we're with. There's nothing for it.

They break down the door of the house immediately opposite us. We've still got their uniforms. I'm making a huge gamble.

     “Da drueben Komraden! Komme! Komme! Los!”

      I motion to Pyre to start booking it. We're running in some kind of direction. No germans have seen through us yet. It looks like my ruse worked. The simplest distraction is often the best.

     We keep on going. There's no real reason to run so fast. So we just keep at a light pace for now. Make it look like we're out of breath... well, we are out of breath. But it's still working.

     We start walking. We don't know where we went. I mean that both literally and figuratively. Where the hell are we?

     I tell Pyre to start looking for Kuebelwagens.

     We keep on sneaking around. I think we make pretty good Krauts. Then three German soldiers come up to us and start raising hell.

     Jennings, Navittas, and Klaus. Klaus is unconscious. They're carrying him between each other. I take Klaus's pulse. His cauterized body isn't leaking much. But his pulse is still weak. He might get through this. My responsibility. Shouldn't have let this happen. Petersen... that bastard.

     “Bloody glad to see you're still round here gents. Situation, Jennings?” I say. His eyes are bloodshot. He's tired. I'm tired too. It's getting late. No sleep last night.

     “Sir, looks like everybody in the company we liberated is either dead or recaptured. I wouldn't envy them. We need to get to Walid's place. We can either walk during the night, or try something gutsy. Considering Klaus' situation, I'd recommend trying to capture a truck. Preferably one with some gas.”

     “Roger. Let's find a road.”

     We're in back alleys right now. We get to the outskirts of the city once more. There aren't many convoys coming by, which is both good and bad. It's about 8:00 now. I'm damn exhausted. Hungry, too.

    Jennings and myself are on one side with Klaus. Navittas and Pyre are on the other. There aren't a whole lot of people around here right now. Looks like the Wehrmacht has gone someplace else for the night. The sun is setting to our rear. Jennings and I start talking.

     “Did you know anything about Petersen?”

     “No more than you. He hid it well. Every time we tried talking to him, he played himself well. The man was slick like grease. He had us fooled from the start. Bastard knew he was playing us. Bastard knew just what to do. None of us picked up on it. You didn't either.”

     “Damn right I didn't. But I bloody well should 'ave. I'm in charge. I take the heat. It's my damn job. Dammit.”

     “Sir, we're only human. If court-martials are involved, I'll stand with you. None of us knew. None of us were close enough to him. Frankly, none of us liked him. The man was a fuck-up to our eyes. We finished our objective under the direst of circumstances. We took down a crew of thousands in return for a single company of POW's, using captured (and now destroyed) equipment. I don't think command has a single complaint to make, except that we've done our job better than anybody else in this damn war. Intel especially. Bloody bastards.”

     “...Thanks Jennings. I needed that. Ninth layer.”

     “Ninth layer.”

      Over the horizon we see something coming. Black smoke. Exhaust. We get ready. Gas trucks always come in last.

      We're behind a couple of abandoned houses. Navittas and Pyre spot the convoy. They're heading the right way. So are some Wehrmacht to meet them. This is one of the side roads they're liable to take.

     Large number of Panzers coming through. Mostly panzer III's. Two Tigers. Those things are dangerous, as you well know. A few up-gunned Panzer IV's, and a few Stugs. We cannot get detected. If we are, we're dead.

     Those Tigers drive by; the ground and buildings shake. The 60 tonne monsters churn everything in their wakes. Behind them are recovery vehicles; they're towing a number of Panzers. Of curious note are a pair of Shermans and a pair of M3 Grants. One of them's a command tank. Big antennae for the radios. Three of those recovery vehicles together are towing a final knocked out Tiger. Those things must be a nightmare to maintain. Magitech can only go so far. A few half tracks go by. We duck out of the way for these ones. Can't let them see us. Last comes a pair of trucks with a large number of barrels. We wait for the first truck to go by.

     I give the instructions by hand-signals. I toss my last potato masher as far as I can (which is about two blocks down, through a number of alleyways.) Navittas lines his sights. I duck back in. One shot. Two kills. Boy's a damn good shot. The Wehrmacht's heading in the wrong direction. We dump out the bodies. We turn off the lights. We load up Klaus's body. Maybe our luck's finally turning up.

  

chapter 10: Sink the Zeppelin!

    They're 150mm artillery pieces. Some of the largest field guns the Germans ever produced in quantity. If anything can do it, it's these. That damn ship mounts the same cannons. I get MacDonald's men to capture them and put them to good use. We have to get closer to the zeppelin. Where these pieces should be towed by horse and tractor, they're being pushed by men. These men... they're magnificent bastards. We might just make it.

    Then we saw the stukas launching. A little part of me died. It's too late. Those men we ended up butchering – what did it all matter? What was it all for? Those people on the tank – those people before my very eyes slaughtered – god dammit. Can't think about that now.

    “YOU ON THE STREET! GET THE ACK ACK FROM THAT ARMOURY AND SHOOT! SHOOT OR WE'RE DEAD!”

    They don't say anything. They just do it. Quad 20mm flak. Not much. But it'll do.

    The stukas hit the men. A few of those 150's go down. We take down a pair of those Stukas though. Ten left. Just... ten...

    The zeppelin's in sight. The 150mm guns it has are intimidating. Our 88 is more important though.

    “Pyre! Incendiary ordinance! Let's cook that damn ship up!”

    Sir yes sir! Ordinance loaded!

    I get on the gun this time. Steady hands. I line the triangles of the sight with the casemate-mounted gun. It's best cook that armoury. The first shot bounces. My heart pounds.

    “REVERSE! GET US OUT!”

    The house beside us bursts into splinters of mudbrick. It's gone. I view through the scope again. Another part of my heart drops. There are a hell of a lot of those 15cm cannons on that damn ship. I make a quick count. At least half a dozen on this side. What the hell was intel thinking?! I... I just sent a full company to its death. And... there isn't a damn thing I can do about it!

    I hear the screams of men. About a dozen of them. All dead. Macdonald's hit. The tiger's fine. Because they missed this tank.

    “LOADED SIR!”

    I fire another one. This time, my aim is true. I managed to hit one of the casemates. We should have stuck to the plan. Should have gone onboard. God dammit.

    The casemate cooks up. It's not enough to get rid of the ship though.

    Then another hit from a different gun. Must have been one of the 15cm cannons. It hit near the rudder. If we can't kill it, we'll cripple it.

    “LOADED!”

    I keep on planting these incendiaries in that ship. They keep on shelling us. The stukas have taken out more than half the men. Surprised they haven't hit us yet.

    That's when they hit us. We feel the 30mm shots hit the top of the hull. The engine's on fire. I make Pyre see what he can do. One solitary fire extinguisher for the entire tank.

    I fire the final shot and order the men to evacuate the tank. It's been good to us. But we can't stay here.

    I yell at the men manning the flak to shoot down those damned stukas. But they're dead.

    A horrid realization comes into my mind. Everybody in that entire company is dead or dying.

    There's only one artillery piece left. The tiger's useless. There's only one thing left to do.

    “Lads.... We aren't getting out of here.We have two choices: Sink the zeppelin, or surrender.

Victory or death, men. We destroy that damned ship, or we die trying. We probably will anyway. But we'll go down swinging. You men go. All I need is one volunteer.”

    “I'll do it, sir.”

    -- It's Pyre.

    “Get to Walid's place. If we aren't there within two hours of you, we're dead.”

    “Alright. Load it.” This thing has huge recoil. This time we hit the bridge.

    The ship's burning in the water. Those stukas are out of ammo. They've stopped shooting us.

    We keep firing. Three more shots before some people start coming at us. Wehrmacht.

    We run.

    As we run, we see the zeppelin. It's been battered, damaged beyond repair. The sacrifices of these men... they might not be in vain. The rudder's gone. It's dead in the water. Its guns damaged, fighter bays inoperable. We might just have done something heroic.

    But then something in my gut drops. I see something coming through the harbour.

    Two more aircraft carriers.

    They're flying Italian colours.

    I think we may have just lost the war.