Peter Idone - Red Vengeance

“Perhaps it can have that effect, Herr Sturmbannfuehrer.”

“Go about your business, Captain, and don’t fret. My troops are rounding up the boys. Some I fear have become lost and are too intoxicated to find their way back to the square. Well, it has been something of a party, hasn’t it? What an enormous country. A man can do as he pleases, that’s the beauty of it. It’s a pity to have to leave.” Appearing wistful, Toller sat up straight to look around, then wished Falkenstein luck and sank back deeply into the plush car seat, retreating into whatever illness that ailed him. Falkenstein turned away from the staff car and gave Voss a single nod. The crew and stragglers clamored off the armored personnel carrier, and the lieutenant assigned tasks. “We must secure the perimeter of town as quickly as possible. Corporal Schroeder, round up every newcomer who has tagged along since last night. No one leaves. Find out what their specialties are—medics, signal operators, any specialized skills—and have them report to me here, in the square. If anyone is without a weapon, I want to know who they are and the reason why.”

Schroeder pulled a face. He did not appear enthusiastic over the duty the lieutenant saddled him with. Voss then singled out Braun and Schmidt. “Reconnoiter the repair depot, and find a durable position to cover any threat from the east. After that has been done, one of you make a search for fuel. There might be some our Ukrainian friends have overlooked. Angst, Detwiler, find suitable quarters for the captain, preferably near the square. It shouldn’t take you long. Inform Sergeant Reinhardt of the location. When you’re finished, Angst, join Braun and Schmidt over at the depot. Detwiler, you can then assist Corporal Schroeder with the newcomers in getting positions fortified and establishing machine gun emplacements. Wilms, I spotted a water tower on the northeast side of town. That will serve as our primary observation post. Take the portable and, once you’ve established yourself, do a radio check with both vehicles.” The crew hurried off in their separate directions. Mueller remained by the armored carrier and waited for the lieutenant to complete his briefing. “What is it, Private…?”

“Mueller, sir. I have some signal experience. The corporal told me to stay here.”

“Good, Mueller. When the captain’s headquarters has been determined, you can help set up the communications that the captain will need. Sergeant Vogel, the captain’s driver, will show you what he wants done. I will need you to relieve Wilms on the tower, eventually, but in the meantime, stay available for Sergeant Reinhardt and do as he instructs.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

The SS Obersoldaten had begun to reassemble the auxiliaries amid much laughter and foolery. Some of the Ukrainian policemen were so drunk they needed to be carried aboard the trucks. One auxiliary, on hands and knees, heaved violently into the mud, as another, unconscious and propped up against a wall, sat in a pool of his own urine. Incapable of getting to their feet, the two were dragged to the waiting truck by their comrades and roughly tossed on board. They all expressed disappointment at having to leave the scene of arson, pilfering, and murder. Falkenstein limped over to the lieutenant’s side. “I have witnessed civilians behave with more discipline while under bombardment,” he said, observing the rabble now swarming around them with contempt.

“They shouldn’t be here for much longer, sir. I’ve assigned the men preliminary tasks in securing the town.”

“Very well. Let’s see if we can fine-tune our situation. Let’s have a tour.” Falkenstein entered the scout car by the co-driver’s side hatch as Voss followed and joined him in the turret. Placing the earphones on his head and speaking into the throat mike, the captain gave directions to Vogel. The scout car left the square by the same road they had entered. Except for the burned-out shells of the houses that lined the sides of the road, the surroundings were quite open. There was, however, a large area that had been set aside as an equipment dump and supply yard. Junked machine parts, steel drums, stacks of rails, and bins containing base plates and washers—the hardware leftover to regauge and upgrade the railroad tracks. Beyond the supply dump were the secondary buildings that comprised the repair depot. Set out in a long row was an agglomeration of workshops, tool sheds, and storage huts separated by narrow paths and alleys. As they approached the railroad crossing, Falkenstein had the sergeant turn left onto a gravel road that ran north to south, parallel to the splayed rails and churned-up embankment on one side and the complex of buildings that formed the heart of the depot. The buildings at the south end consisted of a repair garage and machine shop; next was the maintenance facility, a long, moderately tall structure fabricated of corrugated metal siding and roofing. This building, Falkenstein knew, was where the armored vehicles were repainted in the Wehrmacht-approved dark sand and green camouflage pattern. In winter, they were whitewashed. The depot at Veranovka was by no means a large facility, but it could service the needs of a modest panzer unit of several full batteries if necessary. During the counteroffensive earlier in the year, the depot had more work than it could handle. Vogel turned into the wide opening of the maintenance building as the captain instructed. Large pads of concrete, stained with paint, had been set into the earthen floor. Overhead, the truss work that supported the roof was encrusted with bird droppings. Chased from their habitat by the smoke and dust from over the past days, the birds flitted nervously from one beam to the next, chirping and cooing. Long sections of metal-paned louvered windows, many of which were broken, let in a gloomy light. At the north end, a wide path separated the maintenance building from yet another garage. Falkenstein told Vogel to stop. All the main buildings were spaced apart thus, with enough room for the girth of two tanks to pass through easily. The gravel surface was firm like the road. The street, or alley, that ran along the length of the main buildings in back was muddy and terribly rutted. This was where the workshops and tool sheds stood, flanking the opposite side of this muddy access way. Falkenstein made a mental note of the layout. The scout car as well as the sizeable Hanomag could squeeze in between these smaller buildings. The vehicles would have a far more difficult time where the concrete block workshops stood very close together, but it wasn’t impossible. Falkenstein had Vogel amble in and around the structures to get a feel of the space. While making this sweep, the officers saw Braun leave one of the workshops and fumble with a chain that held the double doors closed. The grenadier was surprised by the appearance of the command vehicle and saluted self-consciously as it drove by. “No gasoline yet, Captain.”

“You have barely begun your search, private. Keep looking,” Falkenstein said.

The scout car turned to the right and drove by the second repair garage. A Mark IV tank, lacking both turret and tracks, blocked the north entrance. There was ample room for a man to get through but certainly not a vehicle. Vogel was told to turn again, this time to the left, which brought them back to the gravel road. More huts and shacks flanked the road. Falkenstein considered the withdrawal by the town’s previous occupants feckless and haphazard. They now approached the water tower that stood between the gravel road and the railroad tracks. The support base of wood columns stood seven or eight meters high, with a wood-staved container, like an enormous barrel, that was another four meters in height. A narrow catwalk circled the base of the water tank, and a crudely fashioned ladder ran up the side of one support column. Another ladder ran up the side of the water tank and ended in a small platform of some kind attached to the very top. “The entire countryside can be seen from up there. We will know in good time when a hostile force attempts an advance,” Falkenstein said.