James Shipman - Task Force Baum

The convoy moved forward in the darkness. Hall saw, to his frustration, that they were advancing at half speed on the winding, narrow road. He feared that this track would wander off to nowhere, or end abruptly, but the task force kept rolling forward as the minutes ticked by. Hall’s spirits rose slightly. Perhaps they would make it to Höllrich after all.

Another several hours passed. Behind them, Hall could see the edges of the sky just beginning to lighten. He checked his watch. They weren’t far from dawn. He shook his head. They were a full day behind schedule. They were nowhere near the American lines, and they still had the Main to somehow cross. Still, if they could reach the highway, they could at least move out at full speed and, with any luck, find a way across the river and on toward home.

The column reached a crossroads and halted again. Hall could see the lights of a small town in the distance. They’d made it. This had to be Höllrich. But why on earth were they stopping again? They should plow through now and get the hell out of there while they still could. Instead, they were going to have another damned committee meeting and work out their feelings. If only he was in command. He’d have had the force back already, and they’d be eating breakfast in safety…

Stiller stepped out of the vehicle, stretching his back and yawning. Hall joined him, shaking his head to try to kick out the cobwebs. They’d been awake for forty-eight hours now. He’d never stayed up this long in his life, even in the heady party days at Washington State College. He wanted some hot food and a bed, but he knew it would be another day before he’d see either. Even if they somehow made it over the Main, they were far away from friendly lines.

Baum appeared with Nutto. “What do you see?” the commander asked the lead tanker.

“Looks like Höllrich dead ahead,” he responded.

“Any signs of resistance?”

“Who knows? In a couple hours, we’ll have full light, and I can tell you for sure.”

“Maybe we should wait,” said Baum.

“No!” interjected Hall, his impatience boiling over.

“Lieutenant, you have exactly zero right to be opening your mouth right now,” said Baum, glaring at him.

“I’m sorry, sir. I just think we should get out of here while we have a chance.”

Baum grunted. “Perhaps you’re right. But I don’t want to lose the whole show when we are this close. We can’t move fast with all these POWs, and we’re dangerously low on ammo and fuel.” The commander rubbed his chin, thinking things over. “I know what I want to do.” He turned to Nutto. “Take the three lead Shermans and head into Höllrich. If the way is open, let us know; if not, fight your way back here, and we’ll wait for daylight before we decide what to do.”

“Sounds good, sir,” said Nutto. “But you want me to waste all that fuel sending a Sherman back?”

“Let me go along,” suggested Stiller. “We can report in a jeep a hell of a lot faster than a tank.”

Baum nodded. “That’s smart, Major. You follow Nutto, and let us know if the coast is clear.”

Hall couldn’t believe his ears. Now they were going to split their force? And that idiot Stiller had volunteered them to go along on some suicide patrol? He wanted to scream in his frustration, but he knew there was nothing he could do. He stepped back over into the jeep, sitting silently as Stiller slid in beside him. The major reached in and pushed another wad of tobacco into his mouth. “This better work, Hall,” he joked. “This is the last of my chaw.”

Hall didn’t respond. He held on to his useless Thompson, his fingers white. The lead Shermans jerked into motion, relieved of their POW passengers, who remained behind so the patrol could move at more speed. Stiller pushed the jeep into motion, and they rolled out, following Nutto toward Höllrich.

The patrol advanced toward the lights in the distance. At least they were moving at a decent speed now, and on a paved thoroughfare with a little room to maneuver. Hall was still angry over Baum’s decision. It made no sense to him. If they ran into an ambush ahead, they wouldn’t be able to fight through it. They might be killed outright or captured. On the other hand, if the Germans were not there, there would be at least an hour’s delay while they brought the rest of the column up. Didn’t Baum understand anything about tactics? He looked over at Stiller. As usual, the dolt was chewing away at his plug, paying little attention to the details. They should have brought the whole column up now, blazed through any resistance, and moved on toward the Main. It was their only chance to escape.

“Something eating at you, Hall?” asked the major, not taking his eyes off the road.

Hall was surprised. How did Stiller know he was upset? How to answer? Finally, he responded: “I think Baum’s wrong. We should have stayed together.”

Stiller chuckled. “Do you know how much combat experience our commander has had?”

“That doesn’t mean he’s right.”

The major shook his head, spitting to the side before craning his neck toward the lieutenant. “Hall, you don’t know shit about right and wrong in a fight. All these months I’ve been waiting for you to figure out that you’re not special, that you don’t know a damned thing. Some people take an awful long time to learn something.”

What was Stiller talking about? What did the major know about war? About life? All he could see was what was right in front of him. And he barely understood that. He wanted to argue, but there was no point. He couldn’t risk his reward. He’d try humility. “You’re right, sir. Baum knows more than me, and so do you. I just want to get out of here.”

“I know,” responded Stiller, his voice softening. “We all do.” He looked over and patted Hall’s arm. “I was too hard on you just now. I know I’ve been tough on you all this time, but I did it for your own good. And I didn’t lie when I said you’ve done good out here, Hall. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, sir,” he responded, keeping his voice as subservient as he could muster. He smiled inside. The major was so easy to manipulate. I don’t give a damn how you feel about me, but I’ll take what you’re in a position to grant .

The lights of Höllrich grew on the horizon. Hall knew the highway ran north and south beyond the west side of the town. He tried to see the line of the roadway, but the morning light was still far too dim. Well, it didn’t matte;, in a few minutes they’d reach the town, and they’d either make it through or they wouldn’t.

They rolled on. Hall could make out individual houses now. The road they were on seemed to travel right through the town on the way to the highway. He couldn’t see any movement in Höllrich. He felt elation rising. They’d beat the Germans here. They could storm through the town and on to the highway. He cursed Baum again for his foolish caution. If the whole convoy was here, they could make their escape now instead of letting the krauts have a chance to play catch-up.

Thunderous explosions rattled the patrol. Fire rained in on them from what seemed every direction. The lead tank was hit and burned before Hall could even react to what was happening. He saw Nutto leap out of the tank and roll into a nearby ditch. Figures emerged out of the trees, rifles raised.

Stiller swore, ripping the gear shift into reverse. He gnashed the clutch and jerked the jeep backward, tearing away from the Shermans as a second tank exploded under the point-blank fire. Their vehicle tore away from the battle, whipping rapidly back out of the conflagration. The last Sherman was following them at a distance, attempting to escape from the German ambush. The major did not wait for the tank but found a patch of level ground near the road and backed into it, turning the vehicle around and then storming down the road at full speed back toward Baum and the rest of the force. They were about halfway back when Stiller pulled over.