Michael Thomas - Night of the Nazi Zombies

“How are you feeling Corporal?” asked the Lieutenant whilst looking at the man’s leg.

Surprisingly the American soldier seemed more alert than he had been just a short time before.

“Actually, I’m feeling much better now, Sir,” he replied. “I can’t feel my leg, but the pain has gone and I‘m not as tired as before.”

“Can you move your foot?” asked Harvey.

“Yeah, I think so,” replied Martinez as he wiggled his toes. “Yeah, look!”

Incredibly the man’s foot was moving from side to side.

The group went silent, Harvey looked ahead to see the hand signal from Sergeant Smith. The group dropped to their knees, weapons ready, expecting to be attacked at any moment. Martinez, now on the ground where his stretcher had been lowered, lifted himself up to a sitting position so he could see what was happening. Nervous, probably from his previous encounter with his attackers, he reached for his weapon and checked it was loaded. On his lap sat his Colt 1911, he was taking no chances. He could hear the sound now; it was a number of people crashing through the distant woodland. The rest of the paratroopers now positioned themselves against the broken fence, pointing their weapons towards the tree line. A spine chilling scream echoed across the fields followed by shouts, it was a woman’s voice.

In the distance Sergeant Smith signalled, the order came down the column, they were to hold their fire. Harvey looked towards the trees, the shouting was louder now and he could just make out shadows moving at the base of the trees. Then he spotted them, two young girls, maybe teenagers, running for their lives. One of the privates stood up at seeing what was appeared not to be a problem. He was shouted at immediately by Captain Scott, “Get your head down boy!”

The two girls kept running, now well out of the woodland and making their way across the open field in the direction of the soldiers. Corporal Martinez whispered to the Lieutenant.

“What are they running from, Sir?”

The officer shrugged, he obviously had no idea and continued watching the drama unfold.

“No idea, we need to keep low and quiet though, we’re not in a position to get stuck in another fight, unless we have no other choice,” he said.

Without even checking the fence the girls dragged themselves up and over only to find waiting arms grabbing them and pulling them to safety. They started to scream but Captain Scott and Trent managed to cover their mouths, beckoning them to be quiet. The two girls, seeing the line of armed men struggled, having no idea which side the men were on, or even if they were there to help or attack them.

The American captain intervened.

“Bonjour, mon nom est Capitaine Scott de la 101e Division Airborne.”

The girls looked confused, they were obviously in shock.

Captain Scott continued, “Je suis un soldat américain. Nous ne vous blessera pas.”

One of the girls relaxed a little, “My name is Madeleine and this is Adrienne,” she shook his hand. “You’re an American? Your French is very good!” she smiled.

Before anybody could say anything else they were interrupted by the men shouting, Scott looked back to see a large group of men shambling across the field towards them.

Scott turned to the girl, “Are these people chasing you?”

“Yes,” Adrienne answered indignantly, “one of them was trying to bite us.”

Lieutenant Harvey crawled over, he looked at the girls, then to the Captain.

“Are they being chased?”

Scott nodded, he pointed to the girl with the bite marks.

“Look, she’s been bitten as well, what’s going on?”

“Those soldiers attacked our friends. We were trying to get away when Madeleine was bitten, but she was lucky it was only scratches and we managed to get away,” replied Adrienne.

As the officers talked the strange group of people continued their slow progress. They were either still following the girls or they had spotted the soldiers because they were heading right for them. The distance was a good hundred yards and they would take a short while longer to reach them.

Private Wilks called out, “Behind us!”

The men quickly checked the space behind them only to spot more of these people. This second group was much larger. Sergeant Smith had made his way back to the group and consulted with the officers.

“I don’t like this, I think these guys must be drugged or something…”

Chard interrupted, “More like pissed, Sarge!”

The Sergeant looked at him, his expression said enough to make Chard return to watching the group. Smith continued.

“Either way we can’t go back and this other group from the woods is heading this way.”

Captain Scott spoke to the French girl again.

“Why are these people chasing you?” The girl shrugged.

“I don’t know, they were trying to eat us though!” she answered in a panic.

The conversation was stopped by howling and wailing, the same sound they had heard back at the landing zone.

Smith called out to the officers, “Sounds like the same ones we heard back at the convoy.”

Smith stood up, leaning on the fence. He shouted to the nearest group that was approaching from their left flank.

“Hey, what do you want?” There was no response.

Captain Scott joined in, “Parlez-vous anglais?” There was still no reply.

Scott asked Harvey, “Do you speak German?” the officer nodded, “A little.”

Lieutenant Harvey stood and shouted in the best German he could manage. “Sprechen sie Englisch?” Again silence then a few seconds later came more wailing and groaning.

“Enough of this,” called Smith, “anybody got a flare?”

One of the soldiers acknowledged and fired a shot into the sky. It lit with a flash and suddenly the field and the group of men became clear.

“Fuck me!” called out one of the privates.

The nearest group were soldiers, though their clothing and equipment was bedraggled and filthy. None of them seemed to be carrying weapons in any meaningful way. Worst of all though, was that they all seemed to have sustained injuries of some kind. Some were missing limbs, others had gaping wounds in their chests or throats. All of them had substantial amounts of blood around their open mouths. A few shots rang out as Wilks and Harris fired instinctively at the closest. Captain Scott called out for them to cease fire but it was unnecessary as they had already stopped from the horror of what happened next. The first two men had been knocked to the ground, both felled by good shots to the body. However they simply lifted themselves up and continued on. Sergeant Smith looked to Lieutenant Harvey for confirmation, he gave the nod. Without hesitation Smith called out, “Open fire!”

The previously quiet area was shattered by the collective fire of over a dozen men armed with rifles, submachine guns and machineguns. The group continued their slow march, now only thirty or so feet away. At this range they were shredded, body parts ripped apart, heads cut clean off and blood and gore spraying all around. The Allied soldiers formed themselves into a very loose ‘C’ shape so that they could defend the front, rear and left flanks of their position. The Bren opened up on the second group to the rear and started knocking down the enemy at long range. Harris and Trent joined in with their Enfield rifles, within seconds there were none left standing. Smith called for a ceasefire and the men reloaded their weapons, ready for whatever awaited them.

Lieutenant Harvey called out, “Sergeant Peters!”

The Lance Sergeant responded promptly, “Sir!”

Harvey continued, “Take Humphreys and check on the bodies.”

The sergeant and corporal moved off towards the nearest bodies from the firefight. The closest ones were only a dozen yards or so from their firing line. Looking at the first body it was obvious that these people were in the same condition as those discovered earlier. Their bodies were covered in a variety of injuries prior to those sustained from their own shooting. Peters was surprised by one of the bodies in particular. Looking more closely he noticed a patch on the soldier’s uniform. It hadn’t even occurred to him that these men might not be German. He turned and shouted out to the Captain.