Peter Idone - Red Vengeance

“Sixth Army will establish a defensive line, designated Wotan, that will extend from Zaporozhye across the Nogay Steppe to as far south as Melitopol. Now—this is important—as the armies converge toward the crossings, the areas in between will become broader and unprotected. The Russians will try to establish bridgeheads along the river at every opportunity. We will be in those open spaces, Lieutenant. Companies, battalions, even regimental—all arms groups are destined to get cut off from their neighbors on either flank. Depending upon the vicinity of where we happen to be, at the right time, we can provide valuable reconnaissance to these units.”

“With the disruption of communication, which is to be expected with a retreat of this magnitude, how will we know to be in the right place at the right time?”

“A question I thought you would ask, and a legitimate one. Lieutenant Gottfried will return to Zaporozhye and coordinate efforts with the signals branch at Army Group to monitor reports and keep us informed. Much the same as he was doing for me here, before, with the listening station. There is no foolproof guarantee. I have learned from experience that this hunt requires a certain amount of intuitive response. Red Vengeance has been active in First Panzer Army sector and the northern wing of Sixth Army, and that is where we will concentrate our attention for the time being.”

At first Voss had hoped the mission of the reconnaissance group would have been altered due to the new circumstances, but he realized he was terribly naïve to think so. The captain had merely predicated their main objective with other duties to make the exercise more palatable for him personally. Nothing had changed. Falkenstein was after Red Vengeance, and Voss was his adjutant. Next, Falkenstein directed his attention to the area around Zaporozhye. “A defensive salient is to be established to protect the city and the hydroelectric works,” he said.

“Yes, my battalion commander informed me. Our division will take part in the defense,” Voss replied.

“One of several divisions. A panzer and army corps will establish positions on the northeast bank of the reservoir and extend ten to twelve kilometers east. This salient should thwart any penetrations the Russians try to make between the Dniepr bend and the Sea of Azov. It will give cover to the northern flank of Sixth Army and at the same time interfere with any thrusts toward Dnepropetrovsk.”

“With that much firepower at our back, we have the advantage of operating in the area pretty much at will,” Voss said.

“For a short time only I should think, Lieutenant. Once the salient is up to strength and dug in, I believe Red Vengeance will be found trolling for small, vulnerable units to the south near the Mololchnaya River, or perhaps a little further.”

Small, vulnerable units , Voss thought, such as Reconnaissance Group Falkenstein . There were several other details to discuss before the briefing was over. The radio call sign aboard the armored personnel carrier would transmit and receive as “Sundial 251.” Falkenstein’s vehicle would remain Sundial. Upon leaving the kolkhoz, they would drive west, toward Novo-Moskovsk. Sometime in the evening, the captain expected to meet up with Josef and Andrei, who had gone to recover a store of supplies and fuel. Depending on the time and how much light was left, they would turn south and officially begin the mission. “One other item to bring to your attention, Lieutenant. I’ve replenished your crew with the same poor devils who managed to survive our quarry. They might bring us some luck.”

“Have they been informed of the mission, sir?”

“Not yet. Gottfried prepared them for your arrival, but that was all. They are all too jubilant over the retreat at the moment. I can still count on your discretion concerning the matter? Good. I will address the entire crew in due time.”

“As you wish, Captain.” Dismissed, Voss saluted and left the cottage. The command vehicle had since been parked in front, and Vogel was securing extra gear to the armored body. Water and fuel cans and miscellaneous equipment, covered with tarpaulins and shelter halves, decorated the 222, which now looked as though it belonged to some exotic caravan. Khan was with the sergeant, helping to tie the stuff down. This was the first time Voss had seen the “Mongol” up close. A red ochre–colored sash was wrapped around his waist, and a wickedly curved blade with an antler handle was tucked into it. Khan’s black hair was long and still unkempt. Although Khan did not greet his stare, Voss sensed the man knew he was being observed, critically so, and would purposely ignore Voss for as long as he kept him under watch. Khan expressed a fleeting smile and then scrambled, agilely, on to the scout car and disappeared down the turret. Vogel had made no attempt at introductions and stayed busy with his work.

Over by the Hanomag, one of the new men, a corporal, illustrated the method used to dismount from the vehicle. In full combat gear, weapon in one hand, the other resting on the top edge of the armored siding, the corporal vaulted over smoothly and landed on the ground on both feet. Flawlessly executed, but panzergrenadiers rarely left the crew compartment these days, Voss mused. The armor offered protection against small-arms fire and fragmentation from shell bursts. The high casualty rate was due in part to the vehicles being struck by armor-piercing rounds. The armored personnel carrier was never intended to withstand abuse of such magnitude. Reinhardt joined him. “We have some new faces, Lieutenant.”

“So I’ve been informed. How do they appear?”

“See for yourself. That’s Corporal Schroeder. Very enthusiastic. The corporal, a machine gunner, and a signalman were escorts with a self-propelled battery.”

“And his pupils?”

“Regular infantry. Their morale is low, according to the corporal, but he assured me he will do whatever is necessary to keep them in line.”

“Did he, now?”

Voss continued to watch as the three infantrymen were put through their paces. One grenadier, whom the corporal zealously admonished, climbed over the siding one leg at a time and took full advantage of the benches inside the crew compartment and the toolboxes fixed to the mudguard as he stepped up, out, and down.

“That’s Braun. Evidently the wit of the group,” Reinhardt said.

Voss detected the subtle pleasure Braun took in tormenting his instructor.

“That lance corporal there, Angst is his name, has already been on me about when he and his men would be returned to their battalion. He said he did not volunteer himself or his men.”

“Impertinent fellow.”

“They’re just disheartened. With the retreat on, unfamiliar faces, and a strange outfit, and no clue as to where they are going…”

Had he not known his sergeant so well, Voss could have interpreted the last statement as a hint. “I’m sure the captain will crystallize the situation for us very soon, Sergeant.” He then decided to hold an inspection. Schroeder was about to have the squad repeat the exercise when, to his chagrin, Reinhardt barked out the order to assemble. The six grenadiers lined up at attention alongside the vehicle. Hands folded behind his back, walking erect, Voss established an official demeanor and reviewed the new crew. When asked, each gave his name, rank, and unit of origin. “I am Lieutenant Erich Rainer Voss. We will all be serving the captain for an undetermined period of time. There has been some question as to when you will be returned to your respective units. Now that the retreat is in effect, we all find ourselves in circumstances that are somewhat unique. Such are the demands for the sake of expedience. When our work is completed, I will see to it that no time is wasted in returning you to your regiment, battalion, assault gun brigade, or wherever it is you belong. Until then, your only concern is to follow orders. Sergeant Reinhardt, you may take over and see that the crew gets squared away properly.”