March Battalion by Sven Hassel Read Free Book Online

frequent falls. 'It obviously can't be the sea. The sea doesn't freeze.'
    'Well, it's not a marsh. I never saw a marsh look like that.'
    'All right, what is it, then?'
    The moon was rising, and by its light we thought we could dimly make out a far shore, perhaps two or three kilometres distant.
    'That settles it,' said Steiner. 'It's a river.'
    Again we studied the map. Fervently the Legionnaire regarded the night sky, measured distances with the compasses, looked again at the sky - then shrugged his shoulders and gave up the riddle. No sea, no lake, no river were to be found.
    The compass can't be at fault. We've got to keep going west. There's nothing for it but to cross the ice.'
    'I suppose so.' Alte leaned against the sledge, looking worried. 'I just hope to God it is the right direction. We're running short of food as it is, we can't afford any mistakes.'
    The first to venture out on the ice was Porta. He wriggled across on his stomach, and the rest of us followed, full of apprehension. The vast sheet of ice turned us all into quivering cowards. God knew how deep was the frozen water beneath, but a ducking at that temperature would mean almost certain death. The Legionnaire, more practical than the rest of us, finally attempted to bore through the top layer with his knife. He succeeded at last, and withdrew the knife with a nod of satisfaction. The ice was sufficiently thick to carry us. This discovery threw us all into a state of childlike joy. Little John and Porta rushed about in ecstasy, slipping and sliding, with wild whoops of delight.
    'You never cease to amaze me,' remarked Alte. 'Have you by any chance forgotten that we're about 1,500 kilometres behind the Russian lines?'
    'The Russians can go and get stuffed!' yelled Little John, jubilantly.
    He spun in a circle. There was a loud ominous cracking from the ice and we all stiffened in our tracks and stared round with eyes that bulged with terror.
    'Let's get on,' said Alte, tersely.
    Once again, we began to treat the ice with respect, creeping slowly forward, trying to make ourselves as light as possible. Every creak, every groan from the frozen mass brought its equivalent creak and groan from us. Every minute brought fresh fears, and it took us several hours to cross to the far shore.
    Once there, we found ourselves amongst birch trees, and our tension disappeared as quickly as it had come. It was the work of a moment to hack off enough branches to start a fire, and we threw ourselves wholeheartedly into the task.
    'This is madness,' said Alte, as the flames began licking up into the frosty air. 'I must be losing my grip. This lot can be seen for miles around.'
    'So what?' Little John defiantly threw on another branch. 'If any Russian dares to show his face here he'll be clubbed on the head and dumped straight into the nearest stew pot - who knows? Even a lousy Russian might taste good if you're starving. What about the cats of the Dibuvilla barracks? A nice fat Rusky would be more tasty than a mangy cat.'
    'So we're cannibals, now?' sneered Heide. 'I wouldn't put it past you. I wouldn't put anything past you.'
    Little John leaned forward.
    'I'll tell you what I'll do, Julius: I'll reserve the rump specially for you, even though it is the best cut.'
    'Douse this fire!' snapped Alte.
    We did our best with handfuls of snow, but in some strange way it seemed almost to add encouragement to the flames. The embers were still glowing red in the night when we finally turned in.
    A piercing cry awoke us. Instantly we were on our feet, snatching up our firearms, straining our eyes in an effort to see through the darkness. The cry came again, long and plaintive and blood-curdling.
    'God in heaven, what is it?' demanded Barcelona.
    By now the fire was almost out. A few cinders gleamed fitfully here and there, but it gave very little light. But as our eyes grew accustomed to the dark, we made out the vast shape of a monster lurking in the trees. Porta gave a scream of terror