Robert Conroy - Germanica

“We need to be able to see in the dark,” said Bud. There were rumors that the military was actually working on something that could sense heat, thus enabling a pilot to “see” in the dark. They were not counting on getting it during this war.

“Convoy,” said George. The two planes swooped down. Three vehicles were parked by the side of the road. Red Crosses were plainly visible on their sides and tops. “Damn it,” he added. They had seen a number of ambulances in the last few days and all were displaying the symbol of the Red Cross.

The military and their own sense of morality told them they could not strafe an ambulance full of wounded even though they were doubtless Nazis. For all they knew, the Germans could be hiding Adolf Hitler in one of the vehicles, but they would not intentionally fire, which was why ambulances often drove in daylight. Less of a chance of an accident, was the reasoning. Nor was there any firing at them from antiaircraft guns.

They flew low and swept over the ambulances. “Somebody’s in the road,” said George. “I’ll check it out.”

“Roger.” Bud would watch out for any danger to his friend and eliminate that nuisance if it occurred.

“Hey, it’s a nurse,” George chortled. “And, damnation, she’s a blond.”

“You wanna land and have her check your blood pressure along with the pressure behind your dick? Or why don’t you signal her to show you her tits.”

George ignored him. “She’s waving and smiling and there’s a doctor in front of one of the ambulances. I guess we should play nice.”

The two pilots again flew over the ambulances. The waved from their cockpits and wagged their wings. They flew off to their base in France where their planes would be fueled and ammo reloaded. Down below, people were dying in cold and mud and filth. While death in the air could be just as violent and ugly, this night they would eat warm food and sleep in beds.

* * *

“Fucking American bastards!” screamed Magda Goebbels as she waved at the American planes. She’d yelled in English even though the two pilots couldn’t possibly hear her. The smile was frozen on her face as the planes disappeared.

Despite himself, the “doctor,” Josef Goebbels, laughed hugely. “I hope they can’t read lips.”

They’d decided to heed advice and hide in plain sight. Americans wouldn’t shoot up ambulances, they’d been told, and so far the advice had proven right. Despite those assurances, each time American planes looked them over, there was the real fear that a killer pilot would make a small and intentional mistake and strafe them, later saying he couldn’t see the Red Crosses. So sorry, he would say. He would apologize, have his wrist slapped, and be forgiven. Each ambulance had a driver and a guard. The Goebbels family occupied two of the ambulances while the third was filled with what remained of their personal possessions. It was galling that they’d been reduced to being able to put all of their possessions into one ambulance.

“Did you learn to swear like that when you visited the United States?” Josef asked. As a young woman Magda had spent a number of months in America and spoke English fluently.

They had stopped by the road so the children could answer calls of nature and had been shocked when the two fighters had suddenly appeared. But now they were gone and the danger was over. She called the children who ran and laughed as they got back into the ambulances.

Josef Goebbels was pleased with their progress. Another day or two would see them at Hitler’s mountaintop retreat at Berchtesgaden, the Eagle’s Nest, where there had been happy memories of the glory of the Reich. Not enough memories, he thought sadly. The war had interfered with mountaintop festivities. From there they would go deeper into the mountains, and safety in the Redoubt.

During their travels they had seen the stark and brutal evidence of Germany’s demise. Roads had been cratered by bombs. Destroyed vehicles and burned out tanks were everywhere. It was impossible to ignore the stench of burned and decaying bodies still inside them. While they traveled during the day, they were able to see camouflaged tanks and troop carriers. They were hiding and waiting until the dark when they could sneak down a road a few more miles to wherever was their destination. Josef Goebbels wondered if many of them were headed south towards the Alps and the Redoubt. He also wondered if many of the other ambulances headed towards the Redoubt would make it.

Even this day, as the American planes had zoomed past, they felt hidden eyes on them. The German soldiers watching them must have wondered who they were to have commandeered the ambulances. Perhaps some of the soldiers had recognized the Goebbels family from the numerous photos taken of them and published throughout the Reich. If so, Josef Goebbels wondered if they thought he was a coward for hiding behind the Red Cross and instead of being in Berlin with the Fuhrer. He decided he didn’t care.

* * *

“Where the hell is Remagen?” yelled General Evans. He raced across the office and started pawing through maps.

There was a flurry of activity while his staff pored over maps of Germany. “Got it,” said Tanner. “It’s a small town north of here on the Rhine.”

Evans grinned wickedly. “And I’ll bet the map shows it’s got a bridge, doesn’t it? Well, as of a few hours ago, that bridge became ours and Bradley’s First Army boys are pouring across it into the heart of Germany. Hot damn! We’re in and ahead of that son of a bitch Montgomery.”

Cheers exploded in the large tent that was the division’s temporary headquarters. If the Rhine had been crossed anywhere, it meant that it would probably be easier for the next force across to exploit. Maybe the German armies on the other side would indeed collapse. Maybe pigs would fly, Tanner thought. On the other side of the Rhine was a defensive line called the West Wall or the Siegfried Line. No one knew how strong those works were and how well they were manned.

Tanner decided to be bold. “General, if you look at the map, Remagen doesn’t do anything or go anyplace. It’s just a little town with a bridge and one rail line heading east. If we’ve now got a base in Germany proper, it looks pretty accidental. I just wonder how it can be exploited. And what does that do to Montgomery’s planned big jump?”

“That’s for Ike and Bradley to decide, just like it’s going to be up to Devers to figure out how to get his army across. When that happens, maybe we can cut off at least some of the German army heading to the Alps. You know damn well that Patton is chomping at the bit to cross and now that we have this Alpine Redoubt to worry us, I’ve got money that says we’ll be crossing just as quickly as possible.”

Montgomery’s planned massive combined forces jump across the Rhine was code-named Operation Varsity Plunder. Critics of the British general’s plans held that Varsity Plunder was overplanned and overlarge. It even included massive airborne assaults that had, in the past, resulted in heavy casualties.

Evans waved grandly to his grinning staff. “The Seventh Army and this division are going to cross that damn river. And when we do, we’re going to smash that Alpine Redoubt and then be on our way home.”

There were more cheers. Tanner decided he needed some fresh air and stepped outside. As usual, the weather was damp and foggy. He decided that Germany in the winter wasn’t the most wonderful place in the world. South of them and closer to the Alps was supposed to be great ski country. Too bad he didn’t ski.

Mitch Cullen, a captain and another member of the division’s G2, or intelligence section, joined him and shrugged. “Crossing the Rhine sounds like a fine opportunity to get shot at.”