James Shipman - Task Force Baum

Hammelburg

March 27, 1945, 1400 hours

Hauptmann Koehl knocked gingerly on the door.

“Come in!” Koehl took a deep breath and twisted the handle. Colonel Hoepple was sitting at his desk, reading papers. He looked up, and his stern features seemed to soften. “ Ach , Koehl, take a seat.”

The captain took a few steps into the hotel room and grabbed a bare wooden chair in front of the colonel’s desk. He was quiet, watching his leader, unsure what to say. In five years together, nothing had ever happened like this. Hoepple kept his head down for a few more seconds and then sighed, as if reluctant to begin.

“You did well out there, Koehl. Better than I’d hoped.”

“I had them right where I wanted them when you called us off. If you’d given me—”

“If I’d given you any more leeway, you might have lost your whole command,” interrupted Hoepple. “I’ve interviewed several of your men, including the engineer you nearly executed while violating orders. My orders!”

“Sir, I was using my independent judgment.”

The colonel’s eyes flared, and he raised an accusing finger. “You were prosecuting a personal vendetta and, in the process, jeopardizing your entire command. You had what, one hundred and fifty men with you? You were taking on five hundred or more, including twenty tanks. I didn’t want the Americans on our side of the Main. I wanted them stopped.”

“You don’t understand. I had them. We were going to finish them.”

“Really?” said Hoepple, leaning over his desk. “You had the convoy in a cross fire and you barely stung them.”

“That wasn’t my fault! They took out my Ferdinand.”

“Because you put your command in danger. Because you took on a force too large for you and tried to wipe it out instead of nipping at their ankles like I ordered you to do.”

“They killed her.”

The colonel looked up for the first time, his eyes brimming with knowing compassion. “I know they did, Koehl. That’s the heart of the problem. I’ve served with you for half a decade now. You’ve lost people before, and you’ve never shown it. I realize this is different. I want you to have justice, but I can’t let you risk your whole command in the process.”

“Is that why you relieved me?”

“I relieved you to get your attention.”

“Then it’s not permanent?” Koehl asked, a flicker of hope rising inside him.

The colonel leaned back, stroking his chin as if considering the question. “I don’t know, Hauptmann . I don’t want it to be. Frankly, it’s up to you. It depends on our little chat and whether you are going to start following orders again.”

“I have followed orders. The spirit at least.”

“ Hauptmann , I’m not going to play word games with you. If I let you go back out there, will you be the cool, capable professional I’ve always counted on, or are you going to continue to act out of anger and personal emotion?”

“Sir, I haven’t—”

“Nonsense, Hauptmann . Of course, you’re personally involved. You’re a human being, after all. Something I had to remember.”

“Then let me do my job, sir. Please.”

“You don’t understand me, Koehl. I’m not worried about this task. I’m worried about you. I need you to think with your head, not your heart. We may only have a few weeks left in this war. I can’t afford to lose you, and I can’t let you kill your men recklessly.”

“I’ll follow your orders this time.”

Hoepple’s eyes narrowed. “To the letter?”

Koehl hesitated. “To the letter.”

“Even if I tell you to let the Americans go?”

Koehl had to get back into the field. It would be his job to make sure the colonel never needed to give that order. He nodded. “ Jawohl , even if you command me to release them.”

The colonel rose and stepped around his desk, reaching his hand out to grasp Koehl’s. “Be careful, my friend. I can’t afford to lose you. When you return, we’ll go out and have some drinks for your sister and for Schmidt. Many drinks.”

“Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.”

“You never have, Koehl. Now let’s get down to business.”

After the meeting, the Hauptmann returned to his unit. The five Ferdinands lay in the regimental motor pool, the men swarming over them, checking their mechanical condition. The fuel truck stood nearby, a hose attached to one of the armored vehicles as his men pumped petrol. Men formed chains, passing up ammunition and shells. When they returned to battle, they would be prepared for anything. So long as there was an engagement still to find. The travel back to Hammelburg and the meeting with Hoepple had cost him more than an hour. If the Americans moved quickly, they might already be out of reach.

His force would be stuck here for at least another half hour. Koehl took the time to allow his medic to attend to his wounds. He sat on a stool the man brought and watched the work on his unit. The soldier applied a needle to the area near his wound, applying a local anesthetic before setting to work to sew up the gash. He was not totally numb, and he grimaced as he felt the vague tugs and the silky grind of the thread sliding through his flesh. At least the medic was experienced and knew how to work quickly. In twenty minutes, his work was done, and he applied a bandage.

“Are you finished?” the Hauptmann inquired, starting to rise.

“I guess that’s as much as I can do right now. You really should be in bed for a few days, sir. You’re risking an infection out here.”

“The infection and the rest will have to wait,” he said, clapping the corporal on his shoulder. “We still have unfinished business with our American friends.”

The medic frowned but didn’t argue. “Well, when we get back, sir, I want you down for at least a week. Doctor’s orders.”

Koehl managed a smile. “Fair enough, my friend. But only when we’re done.”

The Hauptmann spent a few more minutes supervising the loading of supplies and the refueling of the armored vehicles. “Make sure they are topped off,” he ordered. “We may need every liter of fuel we can get.”

After he’d seen to the men, he consulted his map, reviewing the plan the colonel had laid out for him. Despite his frustration at the Oflag, he knew that Hoepple was right. His commander was a brilliant tactician, and he’d quickly formed a new ambush that included the reinforcements he’d managed to acquire. Once Koehl met up with the new forces and moved his Ferdinands into position, they should be unstoppable. He would no longer need luck. If the Americans bumbled into their trap, they would be annihilated.

He had to get there, however. He was now almost two hours behind schedule. He needed to get his force moving and meet up with the new units converging on the ambush point. The greatest danger would come when they left Hammelburg itself. If they had unfortunate timing, they might reach the highway and be halfway through when they were met by the point of the American column retreating to their lines. If that happened, they would be skewered and destroyed in detail long before they met up with the reinforcements. Koehl studied the map, trying to find an alternative route, but there was none. He would have to risk it.

Finally, his unit was ready. He climbed into his Ferdinand and ordered the driver to take the lead. The armored vehicle lurched into motion, and soon they were rolling laboriously through the narrow streets of Hammelburg, heading west toward the highway, his borrowed infantry company following in a half-dozen trucks.