Читать книгу The Grandfather - Jesse Thomas Becker - Страница 5

December 24th, 1945

“Psssst, Tex, get over here,” Joe whispered, crouched down behind the corner of a building. Tex, who was covering his back on the other side of the alley, checked to make sure no one was coming, then ran down the alley limping, with his head ducked, until he reached Joe. He’d clearly been hurt.

When he reached Joe, under his breath, Tex said, “Fuck, my leg hurts. I’m really missing French pussy now.”

Joe was part of the 82nd Airborne Division. Their operation had been a pivotal aspect of D-Day success. However, no other regiment had suffered such devastating losses. Less than one year from D-Day, only 3,000 from the original 13,000 remained. Joe Harper was now a captain, promoted from First Lieutenant, and was in charge of soldiers, but had seen his group constantly changed as losses and consolidation occurred. No other division had been in the thick of it more than they had, and the psychological impact had taken its toll. Every man had lost a good friend. Everyone had taken a life. Everyone had fought. They were now in Germany, closing in on Hitler. They were winning, at a great cost, but they were winning.

Joe had been part of the fighting to liberate Paris earlier and now was well within Germany, fighting town to town, which was proving a slow and dangerous process. Every small town was littered with snipers and ambushes. It was a huge fight, but the allies had the resilience and were pushing forward, albeit with huge losses, but still moving forward. The allies had set up a western front and were planning their final push to Berlin to finish the war. The weather had unfortunately made progress slow and surveillance had failed, due to poor weather, to show a giant collection of German soldiers getting ready to attack. For four days, the allies had been attacked by nearly 410,000 German soldiers, 1,400 tanks, 2,600 artillery vehicles, and over 1,000 aircraft, surprising the allied army in the largest battle of the war, The battle of the bulge.

Joe and Tex were tired; they had been forced to retreat for the first time in the war when the 8,500 men of the 82nd airborne were overrun by 43,000 German soldiers. Tex had been shot in the leg and the bullet had gone straight through. He had refused to quit the front and continued to fight with Joe. Over the year, Tex had started taking more and more risks. His feats of “bravery,” or more like stupidity, according to Joe, were legendary within the division. For example, the time he ran with only five bullets in a Luger he had acquired from a dead SS officer he’d shot and a grenade and stopped a tank and four German soldiers on foot. He’d shot all four soldiers and threw a grenade in the cabin in a perfect throw, according to witnesses, with one bullet to spare. Or the time he caught a grenade in mid-air from the Germans and threw it back. Or the time he was outside Paris when a sniper picked off the sniper in their platoon. Tex was the only one that saw where the shot came from but was pinned down by the sniper. He counted down the shots from the sniper Karabiner 98K to five shots and assumed the magazine was empty and ran across the street to grab a Springfield M1903 with a scope that was lying next to the American sniper. He rolled, took aim and shot the German sniper dead. Tex was a good enough shot during training to allow him to have specialist training in the army, but over the course of the year, he had found the steadiness and had become an ace shot.

He was ferociously male. He was arrogant, strong, abrasive and chauvinistic, but most would agree Tex was a great soldier. Joe didn’t always appreciate the arrogance and chauvinism that seemed to ooze from every pore of Tex, especially after the liberation of Paris and the “bragging” rights Tex had “earned” after he’d bagged some French “poonanie,”as he put it. Joe and the rest of the men had been incessantly reminded of “how good French poon was,” on the hour, it seemed. Irrespective of his annoying arrogance and chauvinism, Tex was a great soldier, and his confidence during insurmountable odds gave not only Joe, but the other men who had been fighting in their squad, the confidence to push on, and confidence in war is sometimes the most important thing.

Tex was panting heavily. A German squad had been spotted moving a tank and heavy artillery towards the church they had retreated to. They had been tasked to neutralize the squad and secure the town. They had managed to infiltrate the township early in the morning, unbeknownst to the German troops, and were flanking the city, ready to pounce at Joe’s orders.

Tex knelt down by Joe. About 200 meters away at 3 o’clock were three Germans in a bunker with a 50 caliber behind the church wall. Joe had sent his sniper to the upstairs of the building to their left to take aim, and on his mark take out the 50 caliber. The town had been abandoned when the citizens heard the allies were within a few kilometers. Joe had 13 men with him, who had spread out around the town and had surrounded the Germans; they did not have heavy weaponry or a tank, so would need to have surprise. Joe could attest for eight German soldiers and had strategically positioned his men to attack once they saw the 50 caliber was neutralized. Joe gave the signal.

BANG BANG BANG! Three shots rang out, fatally hitting the three targets by the 50 caliber, one in the face, blowing the back part of his head all over the soldier behind him, stunning him long enough for the sniper to get him in his sights and put one through his chest.

All of a sudden, the reverberating sound of a canon 100 meters to the left of the neutralized 50 caliber rang out, the sound wave knocking loose dirt off the remaining rubble The shell struck the building where the sniper was. An explosion of splintered wood, brick, and human flesh projectiles rained in a 20-meter circle around the tower, causing Tex and Joe to duck for cover. There was no possibility the sniper had survived, as half the building collapsed in on the alley close to where Joe and Tex were.

The tank had been in the stable left of the church. They had spotted the Americans and were waiting to ambush Joe’s platoon as well but were having trouble loading the tank when the sniper neutralized their 50 caliber. Ten German soldiers emerged behind the tank flanking the small square. Two German soldiers reached the 50 and pushed the dead soldiers off the weapon, the soldier with half his head blown off still gripping the handle. Joe and Tex saw the soldiers attempting to engage the 50 caliber and returned fire, but upon their reload, the Germans had reached the gun, upon which a barrage of bullets and noise rang out, demolishing the rest of the building, pinning Joe and Tex down. Bullets and brick fell around them. The 50 caliber was shredding the protection they had established behind the brick wall. They ducked their heads and had retreated behind the building, ducking behind a small brick wall. They were outnumbered and too spread out.

Joe motioned with his hand to Jenkins and Henderson to flank left behind the building. They ducked and started to move, following Joe’s direction, and then another resounding boom shook the ground. A shell struck the building where Jenkins and Henderson were flanking, knocking them to the ground, in the sights of the 50 caliber. Before they could get up, their bodies were peppered with 50-caliber machine gun shells, shedding their bodies into a thousand pieces, as though they were tissue paper. Joe looked at Tex and for the first time saw genuine fear in his eyes. They were both pinned to the wall, ducking their heads as the relentless bullets demolished the remaining protection of the wall.

The gunfire stopped. A moment of silence, then BOOOM! a giant explosion in the wall as a shell exploded through the building and took out the wall. Joe and Tex were thrown 3 meters from the explosion. Both of them were knocked out cold, but they were alive.

Joe woke up with his hands tied behind his back, being lifted into a truck, with Tex gagged and kicking and cursing next to him. They had been captured by three German soldiers with tired irritated faces, who drove them deeper into Germany, away from the western front and into the unknown.