Peter Idone - Red Vengeance

“Then you should have used the vodka rather than allow them to drink it.”

The Sturmmann laughed. “Now, that’s a thought.”

“It wasn’t meant to be amusing. If you don’t get a handle on these men, there will be an incident. I will not allow my crew to be endangered or our equipment ransacked, and I don’t intend to give up a drop of fuel. Is that clear?”

“Take it easy, Lieutenant, there is no need to make threats.” The three SS men, now joined by two more, established something of a cordon to hold back their unruly charges. The crew, including one of the stragglers, the youth Mueller, reboarded the Hanomag for protection. The Sturmbannfuehrer remained in the staff car and watched the proceedings with an air of disinterest. He passed along no orders to the junior officers and NCOs who stood around the officer’s car, their flat, unsavory features expressing bored amusement. Voss found their lack of involvement to maintain discipline rather bizarre. “We will wait for the captain at the edge of town,” he said to Hartmann, who immediately turned the vehicle around and retreated back down the road. More stragglers watched questioningly as the armored personnel carrier flew past. “If they have any smarts, they’ll keep on walking,” Braun said.

After a wait of several minutes, the scout car arrived. Falkenstein was visibly annoyed to find the Hanomag idling wastefully. “Why haven’t you established yourself in town, Lieutenant?”

Voss explained the situation and the potential for violence under the circumstances.

“Einsatzgruppen, you say?”

“Yes, Captain, and the Ukrainians are all drunk.”

“I suppose our colleagues are responsible for that.” Falkenstein gestured toward the gallows that stood in plain view.

Voss nodded. “I would assume…”

Falkenstein thought for a moment and muttered a few words to Khan, who was positioned in the turret beside him. He then turned to Voss and said, “We’re going in. I’ll speak to the officer in charge and persuade him to hurry along.”

Khan materialized from out of the turret opening, taking with him several items of personal equipment and hauling the antitank rifle, from which he had become inseparable. He ran alongside the double set of riven railroad tracks, heading north, in the direction of the maintenance depot building. Falkenstein thought it prudent that Khan not draw any attention to himself from either the SS or his alleged countrymen. He then addressed the crew. “Remember, men, we are still in a combat zone, and you are under orders. Should anyone try to interfere, molest, or hamper us in any way, you are to take whatever action is necessary to maintain the integrity of this unit. Is that understood?”

The crew nodded and said, in unison, “Yes, sir.”

“Very well. Let’s get on with the business of occupying this town.”

The scout car took the lead and raced down the road, with the Hanomag bringing up the rear. The crew was at the ready, each with a weapon in hand, and possessed a far more confident manner as they reentered Veranovka with the captain in charge. Falkenstein understood the theatrics of the occasion, and he presented himself as both a formidable and dashing figure. He stood high in the turret with the scarf at his neck fluttering in the wind, goggles perched above the brim of his forage cap; the black eye patch only helped to add a rakish touch. The 222 nosed around and between the stationary trucks and motorcycles, Vogel handling the vehicle impeccably at high speed, and then came to a smooth stop beside the staff car. Falkenstein saluted from the turret. “Good morning, Herr Sturmbannfuehrer. Captain Hans Falkenstein. This is my Reconnaissance Group.” Careful not to exhibit any discomfort or fatigue, Falkenstein climbed down from the turret and stood beside the officer’s car. He saluted and offered his hand. The Sturmbannfuehrer displayed an almost dyspeptic manner as he shook hands. “Toller. A pleasure, Captain.” Toller sat deeply entrenched in his plush seat and pulled up the collar of his leather coat. He shivered, and it was quite evident the officer was not well. What at first appeared to be a deeply tanned complexion proved, on closer examination, to be a yellow tinge, the onset of jaundice.

“My group, such as it is, did not quite know how to interpret the reception it received from your auxiliary policemen.”

“These fellows can be something of a cross to bear, Captain, but I can assure you, at no time were they a threat to your men.”

“Yes, of course, Herr Sturmbannfuehrer. As we are about to settle in town, my only concern is that no unpleasantness occurs between your people and mine. My lieutenant described a situation of drunkenness and indiscipline, and no effort was made to keep your men in line.”

“A presumptuous interpretation on the part of your lieutenant. The situation is firmly in hand. They’re essentially good boys—for Ukrainians, that is. Remarkably thorough. We’ve been busy these past few days, and they’re only now letting off steam. You understand how it is.” Toller smiled, crookedly.

“An impressive reminder of your visit hangs at the edge of town. Partisans?”

“I’ve taken the time to settle some old accounts. A group has been active in these parts for some time, but they’ve always managed to elude me. Until yesterday. They were skulking about after the Reichsbahn people evacuated. They lacked a convincing reason as to why they hadn’t migrated across the river and pretended not to know what was going on. They had the nerve to feign innocence, can you imagine? Some claimed to have traveled all the way on foot from as far as Stalino. Hopeless cases.”

“The town appears remarkably intact. Have the engineers left behind any mines or booby traps we should be aware of?”

“There wasn’t the time. Army and civilian personnel made a rather hasty retreat last night before accomplishing the job. The fear of a Russian penetration ignited a stampede.”

“Undoubtedly the small armored detachment making a probe. We skirmished last night.”

“So it appears now, but the commandant in charge of this facility was among the first to take flight, and the rest followed. Inadequate behavior for an officer to say the least,” the Sturmbannfuehrer replied.

“I gather your business here is concluded, and you and your men will be crossing the river.”

The Sturmbannfuehrer nodded. “A ferry is still operating forty kilometers to the north. Our next destination.”

“So far to travel? Why not cross at the Zaporozhye carriageway? It’s closer.”

“True, but my command post is in Dnepropetrovsk. Besides, there are a number of fishing villages strung out along this side of the riverbank, and I want to make one last sweep before we cross. Why don’t you accompany us, Captain? We can serve as each other’s escort.” Toller’s eyes widened. He behaved as though he had come upon the most brilliant idea of his career.

“Thank you, but no, Herr Sturmbannfuehrer. I’m not ready to leave yet. I’ve an old account to settle myself.”

“Well, I for one have tempted the fates long enough. I’ll be thinking of you once I’m back in the safety and comfort of my headquarters…Have you noticed how strangely quiet it’s become, now that the countryside has been emptied? Soldiers, peasants, even animals. Everything gone. Poof. Who would have ever dared to think such a thing was possible? The loud voices and laughter of my men swallowed up in all this emptiness. Even the bleating cries of the executed sounded so hollow and muffled. Strange. The clouds part, and there is sun, but so little light. And look, that white mist, as thick as a blanket, continues to accumulate in the east. It causes one uneasiness, don’t you think?”