Colin Gee - Opening Moves

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Opening Moves: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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The first of a series of books that cover World War Three, from July 1945 through to its close in September 1947.
From the cold waters of the Baltic to a coffee shop in Turkey, a Chateau in Alsace to paddy fields in China, a foxhole in Northern Germany to the Kremlin’s private offices, the Red Gambit series will carry you through the events that lead up to and continue through what became known as World War Three.
Told from the point of view of the soldiers in the frontline, aircraft pilots, submarine and tank commanders and on to the Supreme Commanders on either side of the divide.
Ride with Colonel of Tanks Arkady Yarishlov of the Red Army, fight alongside Major John Ramsey VC of the Black Watch, learn about leadership and honour from ex-SS Standartenfuher Ernst-August Knocke and follow Major Marion J. Crisp to glory with the 101st US Airborne Division.
it was June 1945 and soldiers who had been fighting for years could look up at the summer sky and know that death would not visit them that day.
It was the pause but they didn’t know it.
[The ‘Red Gambit Series’ novels are works of fiction, and deal with fictional events. Most of the characters therein are a figment of the author’s imagination. Without exception, those characters that are historical figures of fact or based upon historical figures of fact are used fictitiously, and their actions, demeanour, conversations, and characters are similarly all figments of the author’s imagination.]

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Returning to a more deliberate style he continued, “I must tell you that you have been investigated and we have not found any reason to detain any of you for War crimes, but understand that if evidence is found then you will be brought to trial for any matter in which you are implicated. It cannot be otherwise gentlemen.”

Eisenhower felt uncomfortable saying it, Braun likewise translating it and Uhlmann and Shandruk in equal measure listening to it.

Quickly the General moved on.

“I do not doubt that the honour you showed by your actions is indicative of the way you conducted yourselves during the hostilities.”

Braun stumbled on ‘indicative’ but Rossiter rescued him with a prompt.

“The alternate is to return you to French custody, with General Clarke’s and my own endorsement of course, and then I suspect your only choices will be to remain in a camp or fight under the flag of France for the European cause.”

Eisenhower sought a decision and indicated the three towards a 17th Century sofa as Rossiter, on cue, poured coffee for all.

A knock on the door was quickly accompanied by Hood’s head reappearing, eyes enquiring silently of his General and receiving the reply he sought in equally noiseless fashion.

Within a minute he reappeared with six boxes, three odd sized and three small rectangular ones, placing three stacks containing one of each sort on Ike’s desk.

The General flicked his lighter and drew in the pungent smoke, realising his guests were eyeing his packet.

Rossiter stepped forward and the three were soon drawing on their own cigarettes.

Eisenhower sucked his down in record time, conscious of the importance of what he was about to do as well as reminding himself he was on a time limit, a time limit already exceeded according to the mantlepiece clock.

He stood, initiating a similar response from the three ex-prisoners.

Braun spoke, not as interpreter but as spokesperson for the group.

“Shandruk cannot go home, for his home is the Ukraine and it is not yet liberated. Herr Uhlmann and I cannot go home because our country still needs us. We do not really understand why it is the Foreign Legion and not the German flag we would fight under but fight we will Herr General.”

Eisenhower nodded and smiled broadly.

“I never doubted it gentlemen. Colonel Rossiter.”

Sam Rossiter, for all his serious nature, had been waiting for this bit.

“Achtung! Stillgestanden!”

Automatically the three men froze in rigid poses, mirrors of each other, stood at parade attention.

“Colonel Rossiter, if you will translate my words please.”

“Major Uhlmann, Lieutenant Shandruk, Master Sergeant Braun, on behalf of the free States of Europe and the United States of America, thank you.” To emphasise the moment he looked at each man in turn. “Sincerely, I thank you.”

A moment of pause and then forward again.

“As a token of our appreciation, we restore to you the awards of your former enlistment.”

Hood passed over the boxes one at a time, in descending rank order and Eisenhower presented it to the appropriate man. Each one of the irregular boxes was marked with solely their surname.

The recipients did not look at the contents until prompted by Eisenhower. Each contained their listed gallantry and service awards, de-nazified by the removal of swastikas as agreed with the Council and accompanied by an ‘authorisation to wear’ document very boldly signed, originating from the office of the Supreme Commander.

Whilst such things are a matter of pride for combat soldiers, there was an amount of confusion apparent on their faces.

“Our understanding is that those who serve in the Legion will be permitted to wear their bravery awards, so wear these with pride gentlemen.”

Confusion was replaced by surprise, tinged with not a little pride.

“Additionally, and on the recommendation of General Clarke, fully endorsed by myself,” Eisenhower turned and picked up the first small box, removing its contents.

Eisenhower smiled and spoke, almost as an aside.

“This is one of the advantages of having your forces under my command.”

He stood in front of the senior German who autpmatically stiffened.

“Major Uhlmann, for bravery and sustained courage in the face of the enemy you are awarded the Silver Star.”

The medal was pinned in place, despite Uhlmann’s confused look.

“The Council of Germany and Austria has approved the award and granted you permission to wear it and indeed any and all awards that will come to your fellow countrymen, now and in the months ahead.”

Uhlmann suddenly realised that the American Leader was extending his hand and his confusion arrested his own response.

Eisenhower’s hand stayed, firm and steady, until Uhlmann regained his senses.

Some years later Eisenhower would record how he suddenly wished he had made not arranged a private affair, wasting the symbolism of the moment in a small office witnessed solely by six people. However, the secrecy issues remained, hence the absence of even a photographer.

‘Maybe when it’s all over a repeat for public consumption?’ he mused.

And with that, Ike repeated the process with Shandruk and Braun, each ready for the moment the American offered his hand.

Passing over the medal boxes for inclusion in the larger ones he beamed broadly at the three men, each sporting the shiny new award.

“Wear this award with the same pride as you wear all your others.”

Once more Rossiter barked a command and once more it drew instant disciplined response.

“Congratulations and thank you once again gentlemen. May you all stay safe in the difficult times ahead.”

On receipt of the translation, all three clicked their heels but were again disarmed immediately by Eisenhower, released from the moment of formality, moving forward with his hand extended, grasping Uhlmann’s which had reciprocated automatically this time.

Shaking all three men’s hands warmly, Eisenhower glanced at Hood who took his cue and opened the door.

“Gentlemen, my apologies, but I must now go to work. Stay safe and do your duty. God go with you all.”

Once the meaning of his words had been laid out to Uhlmann and Shandruk, the three responded by coming to parade attention and throwing immaculate salutes to Eisenhower, who responded, strangely proud of himself and the men in front of him.

Without further ado, the three left the room to go to France as legionnaires in the new French Foreign Legion Corps D’Assault.

1844 hrs, Sunday, 12th August 1945, The road to Calvados, France.

Waiting to be taken to a French Reorganisation Camp, Uhlmann and Braun sat in the back of the 4x4 Dodge eyeing each other whilst they waited for Shandruk, for whom a visit to the latrine had been a priority.

Having occupied some of their wait with rummaging in the boxes of awards, both discovered that their tank destruction badges were omitted. None the less, the two set about restoring the marks of their service, asking advice about positioning here, offering input on adjustments there.

With their own uniforms it would have been much easier but eventually the awards were in position and, bizarrely, did not look out of place on the uniform they wore.

Braun looked up just in time to see Shandruk shake an unseen hand in the doorway before bounding down the steps.

‘Strange.’

He swung himself up into the back of the small vehicle and whistled softly at his comrade’s appearance, nodding his approval. Braun wanted to ask but for some reason stayed his hand, the furtive look the little Ukrainian cast at the disappearing Hotel preventing open discussion.

As the vehicle departed, the American congratulated himself on a piece of quick thinking. He was never wrong about a man and Shandruk fitted his needs precisely.

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