Michael Thomas - Night of the Nazi Zombies

Smith decided to take a chance and called out to the building.

“Sergeant Smith here of the British 6th Airborne Division.”

There was silence, perhaps the man inside had simply taken the dead man’s weapon and had turned it on the British soldiers.

“Oh shit!” exclaimed Smith to himself at this realisation, he might have just made a big mistake.

He was in an exposed position right here and was a sitting duck if whoever was inside decided he was not somebody to have a chat with. Before he could dwell on his decision any longer a voice answered him.

“Oh yeah, sonny?”

There was a pause for a few seconds, neither of the men prepared to go any further till they knew a little more.

The voice continued, “Flash?”

The manner was sarcastic, not the serious and direct tone he was used to. He thought for a brief moment before smiling to himself, “An American, of course!” thought Smith. Luckily for Smith the British Airborne forces had been informed of the Americans’ passwords and vice versa prior to the operation, as it was assumed some troops would end up mixed in the first hours of the mission.

Smith replied, “Thunder”, but didn’t get up.

There was still one more part and without it he was not going to move from his position.

After a delay that seemed like hours the man inside finally spoke.

“Welcome buddy!”

The door to the building swung open yet nobody came out. Smith lifted himself to a crouching position and signalled first to Trent who was providing overwatch and then to Lieutenant Harvey to ensure they didn’t fire. After receiving confirmation by hand signal he turned back to the building.

“It’s okay, you can come out, we’re on the same side,” spoke Smith.

A shape appeared through the doorway, the man glanced around and then stepped out towards Smith and the dead paratrooper. He signalled to Smith, beckoning him to come closer. Smith did so and moved to the American. The two men went inside, using the building and the darkness it provided to give them cover in their exposed position in the middle of the field.

The American spoke first, “Captain Bradley Scott, 101st Airborne, and you are Sergeant Smith?”

“Yes, Sir,” answered the Sergeant, “Sergeant Smith of the 6th Airborne Division, 2nd Battalion Oxford & Buckingham Light infantry. What happened to you, Sir?”

“I got my ass shot off, that’s what happened to me, Sergeant. My unit was supposed to drop together but we hit flak and ended up all over this area.”

“Your man outside?” asked Smith.

“Yeah, that’s Polanski, he was dead when I found him here. I was checking his body when you guys arrived. It looks like he had chute problems, bad way to go. How about you guys?”

“We hit trouble of our own. Our glider was hit on the way down and we had to ditch short of the bridges. We came down right on a Jerry position, on top of the bloody AA gun!”

“Oh shit!”

“We’re down to fourteen men and all the equipment we could carry.”

“Well, I might as well tag along with you guys for now, at least until I can find more of my unit.”

Smith nodded in agreement, “Come with me, I’ll introduce you to my CO, Lieutenant Harvey.”

The two men dashed back across the field, keeping low and made straight for the British position.

Lieutenant Harvey saluted to the American, the Captain ignored the gesture and started talking.

“Your sergeant has explained your situation to me.”

He looked around at the rest of the unit. He paused for a moment, obviously considering his options.

“I suggest I join your unit until I can make contact with the rest of my unit.”

Harvey, a little taken back by the bullish attitude of the American paused for a moment before launching into a tirade.

“We’ve just managed to get out of a pretty hairy situation with Jerry and the next thing we’re being shot at by an American! I think you have some explaining to do!”

The Captain, looking nonplussed, replied with a distinct lack of patience.

“You’re kidding, right?” replied the American, before realising the British officer was being serious. He turned back to him to explain.

“Look, we couldn’t see each other, you tried to get to me, I fired, you fired, and nobody got hurt. It’s wartime, get over it… Lieutenant!”

Smith intervened in what he saw as a pointless round of rutting.

“It isn’t going to stay dark forever, we need to get to the bridge. That way we can get on with our mission and the Captain can find out where the rest of his men are.” Smith glanced at both men whilst speaking.

“Of course,” spoke Harvey in a forced but conciliatory manner. He showed his map to the Captain.

“We’re making our way to the bridge here,” he pointed at their objective.

“Have you seen any enemy movements in this direction?” he marked the space between their current position and the bridge.

“Yeah, I saw some kind of action going on there on my way down. We’d better get a shift on if we’re going to help,” said the Captain.

The American nodded discretely to the Sergeant. There was an understanding.

Private Clarke approached, interrupting the group.

“We found a few more bodies in the woods, looks like more Americans.”

Harvey responded without thinking, “Looks like your boys got hit when they landed as well.”

The Captain didn’t look impressed, he answered Clarke directly and somewhat impatiently.

“Where are they?”

“Follow me, I’ll take you to them,” answered Clarke.

The private led the men to a group of tree stumps close to the tree line, there the bodies of three Americans were sprawled out on the ground. Bending down the men examined the bodies for evidence of what had happened. The first was that of a paratrooper, similar to the body discovered near the building. The dead man was still holding his rifle yet his body was covered in scores of minor wounds as though he had been struck many times with sharp objects, perhaps falling through the woodland canopy. Smith pointed out the wounds to the hands and neck, there were multiple punctures on the exposed flesh and presumably significant bleeding as the body was drenched in blood. The second man was also an American paratrooper, this one was different though. He was unarmed and had significant blood dripping from around his mouth. There were obvious bullet wounds in his arms, chest and throat. These two men had definitely died from different causes.

The Captain spoke first.

“I don’t get it. I know these men, good paratroopers from my unit. They were disciplined and knew their objectives. Why would they do this?”

Lieutenant Harvey explained, “I don’t understand it either, it looks like this one turned on the others,” he pointed to the body full of gunshots, “he isn’t carrying a weapon but his hands and face are covered in blood.”

“Couldn’t that just be from a face injury? The blood on his hands could be from any injury,” Smith said.

I don’t think so,” answered Harvey, his medical mind kicking in, “look at this.”

He lifted the man’s hands, examining the fingernails.

“His fingernails are broken and bloody, it looks like he used his hands to strike and claw somebody or something. There’s blood under the nails.”

“Yeah, look at this one,” said Clarke.

The dead man had gouges across his face, there were obvious markings from finger nails across the cheek and throat.

“It looks like he must have attacked this guy,” he continued.

Harvey stood up, scanning the scene. “What about the third body?”

Clarke moved over, examining the man, it didn’t take long for an answer.

“Same as the other one, Sir. He’s got blood on his hands and mouth and looks like gunshots killed him.”