James Shipman - Task Force Baum

“Gasoline?”

“I don’t know, sir. Haven’t checked. We were full up heading out. Some jerry cans in reserve. We should be fine if we go straight in and out.”

“I don’t want to assume anything, Sergeant. Go find out. I want an exact report. We won’t get anywhere if we run out of juice. I don’t want to be limping out of here with my tail between my legs while we have half the German army breathing down our neck.”

The sergeant nodded and turned, heading back down the line to check in with the vehicles.

“Okay,” said Baum. “Where were we?”

“We were starting to talk about resistance, sir,” prompted Nutto.

“Well, we can expect plenty more of that as we go. I was hoping we would make it all the way to the camp without any problems, but it looks like that’s not gonna happen.” Baum shook his head. “Damn delay. Well, can’t be helped. We’re gonna have to do our best with what we have.” He looked around, searching for somebody. “Any way we can drum up some reconnaissance?” he asked.

“I’m trying, sir,” said one of the men. “But the clouds rolled in nice and low. Gonna make it rough on the planes.”

“Do what you can. Be helpful to know what’s up ahead.” Baum turned back to the huddled officers. “Listen up now, boys; we’ve got to make a little change in the plans. Because I’m expecting more resistance, I’m going to shove all the Shermans up front. That way, if we get into another scrap, we can hit them hard and fast. Let’s wedge the jeeps in right behind them, then the half-tracks. The one-oh-fives and the light tanks can bring up the rear. Any questions?”

The men nodded, accepting the orders.

Baum dismissed his commanders, and they hurried to their assignments. Vehicles started moving to the side of the road and shifting their positions. The Shermans could not turn quickly, particularly in reverse. The maneuver would take a few minutes. Baum watched the progress of the jerky, unwieldy tanks for a time, then walked over to Stiller, wiping his forehead with a rag. “Okay, Major, you had some questions?” His voice was terse.

“I think I heard just about everything I needed,” said the major. “Any idea when we might make the camp?”

“God knows, but if I had to guess, something like midafternoon.”

“That late? I thought we were almost there.”

Baum’s eyes flickered in anger. “This isn’t exactly what you’d call a walk in the park. We’re already late as hell, and the Germans are on to us. That’ll slow us down some. Plus, walking into this camp won’t be free. We’ll have to fight our way in and probably again on the way out. When we do make our escape, that’s when the real fun will start.” He turned and looked the two of them over. “How are you holding up?”

“Not too bad,” said Stiller. “Out of ammo for my pistol, though.”

Baum pursed his lips. “I’ll fetch you a clip or two. Don’t use it again unless we’re in a real close-up scrap, though. Let the Shermans do their job. Hall should be able to handle things with the Thompson. Can I get you anything else?”

“Any more Thompson ammo available?”

Baum shook his head. “I can’t spare any; we’re low already.”

Stiller shrugged. “We’ll get by. Good job incidentally, Captain.”

Baum scoffed. “You can tell me that when we’re out of this. Good enough so far.” He turned and marched swiftly away, barking additional orders.

Stiller and Hall returned to their jeep, sitting in the back and waiting, with nothing to do while the vehicles jostled in and out of position around them. The nauseating exhaust of the engines was thick in the air. Hall used the few minutes to try to calm himself after the stress of combat. Stiller pulled out a K ration and cracked open the can of pork, digging in with a spoon. He took a few bites, then handed the can to Hall. “Hungry?” he said.

Hall didn’t really feel like he wanted something to eat, but he appreciated the distraction. He took the can and scooped out some of the pink substance, scraping aside the clear jelly. He hated the stuff, but he needed to keep up his strength. He choked down a couple of swallows as they waited in silence with the tanks rumbling around them. They were miles behind enemy lines now, but still with a long way to go.

After a half hour, Task Force Baum resumed its journey on the road, still heading east/northeast toward Hammelburg. Hall gradually felt more like himself. He was proud he had survived and faced combat, but he felt a new determination that the next time they found themselves in the fighting, he would perform better under fire with his Thompson. He didn’t want to give Stiller any excuse for not recommending him for a commendation. He still desperately wanted a drink. He’d thought there would be more stops, a chance to get to know some of the boys a little, sniff around for some booze. But so far, it was all balls in and rumbling down the road with the major’s eagle eyes always watching.

Eventually, another town loomed on the horizon. Hall prepared himself for an encounter. As they drew closer, he heard the buzzing of an aircraft. Finally, some reconnaissance , he thought. He looked up and made out the plane following above them in the sky. The aircraft passed directly overhead, and he was shocked to see the German Cross on its wings as it banked away and headed east. An enemy plane gathering information about the task force, he realized. Soon the Germans would know everything about them. The approximate size of the column, the number of tanks, their direction. He felt the trap closing in on them.

They approached the town cautiously this time, the vehicles slowing down and guns trained on the sides of the roads, searching for an ambush. They were in luck. There were no trees here to hide the Germans, making any attack more difficult for the krauts to manage.

They rolled into the first streets of the town. Hall was surprised to see white sheets hanging from the windows. These Germans were ready for the war to end. Still, he kept his Thompson at the ready. This could be a trap. As they passed street after street, he saw some civilians even standing on the sidewalk, arms in the air. The task force ignored them. They were not here to fetch German prisoners or to capture towns. They had a distinct mission and no time to waste. As they left the streets and returned to the countryside, the vehicles rolled to a stop again. What now?

A soldier ran back from the front of the column, passing their jeep and heading to Baum’s command vehicle.

“What is it?” Hall heard the captain ask.

“German column coming this way,” was the answer.

“Armor?”

“No, sir. Looks like regular trucks.”

“How far away?”

“About a mile. They don’t look like they’re traveling too fast. Figure two or three minutes away.”

“Anyplace for us to turn off?”

“Noplace and no time, sir.”

“They spotted us?” asked Baum.

“No way to know, but they aren’t doing anything unusual. I’d say at this point they think we’re a column of panzers.”

“Well, let them come on,” said Baum. “When they’re astride us, we’ll hit them hard. Wait until the lead truck gets to me before anyone shoots. Pass the word.”

Men ran back and forth along the column, passing the information down the line. In less than a minute, the vehicles were lurching back into motion, heading down the road toward the convoy.

Stiller looked over at Hall. “You heard the captain. Get that thing ready.” Hall removed the safety and made sure his weapon was loaded. He moved his Thompson over to the left, aiming at the space between the driver and the major.

“That’s no damn good,” said Stiller. “I don’t want you clipping me in the excitement. Switch spots.” Hall nodded and rose. It was difficult, but they managed to wiggle their way past one another in the tight confines of the jeep until Hall was sitting on the left-hand side directly behind the driver. In the distance now, he could see the column drawing ever closer. A line of five gray trucks covered in the back with canvas, looking quite a bit like their own deuce-and-a-half vehicles.