On Desperate Ground by James Benn Read Free Book Online Page A

launch of other Panzerfausts . Hans von Schierke jumped into the ditch, landing in the midst of Schmidt and his Hiwis.  
    “Hello, boys,” he said with a smile as he caught his breath, “we thought you’d like a hand.” An explosion punctuated his sentence as the reinforcements dealt with the last armored car.
    Dieter walked toward the ditch, now churned up from explosions, metal and fire. He had watched as Hans led a charge to stop the BA-10s from breeching the ditch. As he and his men jumped down from the ridge and ran forward to a position from which to fire their Panzerfausts , one of the BA-10s had taken notice and turned its twin machine guns on them. One man killed, another wounded. He walked by the sprawled form lying face down in the reddening snow.
    Dieter stopped at the edge of the ditch and saw Schmidt kneeling beside a body, holding Aleksandr’s hand. Dieter was startled to see tears in the eyes of the grizzled veteran, dampness mingling with the gray stubble on his face. Schmidt looked up at him.  
    “He was a good boy, sir. I told him to get down.” He shook his head sadly. “He was such a good lad.”  
    Other Hiwis gathered around, some placing their hands gently on his shoulders. At that moment, he looked very old and tired.
    “Come, Schmidt,” Dieter said gently. “There’s not much time.”  
    Swinging his MP40 over his shoulder, he turned on his heel and resumed the march westward. The men, still dazed by the fight, slowly pulled themselves together and followed their officer down the road, leaving Aleksandr with his young lifeless face gazing skyward.
    As Dieter trudged onward, he looked at the men around him and thought about how few were left from the early days. He remembered his first action at the Maas River, how nervous and excited he had been, how stunning the sudden violence and death. Now it was routine, a normal part of every day. Dieter idly wondered whatever had become of Johann Faust.  
     
     

 
     
     
    CHAPTER FOUR
     
     
    7 January 1945
    Alderhorst
    Hitler’s Western Field Headquarters
    Bad Nauheim, Germany
     
     
    Colonel-General Heinz Guderian stood at the edge of the map table, his hands locked behind his back, rocking slightly on his heels. As Chief of Staff of the Oberkommando des Heeres (OKH), Guderian was, on paper at least, responsible for the operations of German forces on all fronts. The enormity of the situation on the eastern and western fronts jumped out at him, as if giant jaws were about to close tight and snap shut. Which was precisely the case.
    There had been a time during the invasion of France in 1940 when Guderian was known as “Hurrying Heinz” for the rapidity with which he maneuvered his XIX Panzer Corps. He had out-fought and out-maneuvered the French, and once had provocatively disobeyed a direct order from the Führer . Hitler had ordered him to halt his troops, fearing he was becoming overextended. Guderian knew the situation to be otherwise and blithely ignored the order, luckily resulting in a victory.  
    Now he neither hurried nor disobeyed. Instead the head of the German General Staff waited and begged. He waited for Hitler to see him and pleaded for permission to move troops to meet the encroaching threat from the East. Since November, Hitler had taken over the planning and execution of the Ardennes Offensive, sending vast quantities of men and material into the Ardennes against the thin American line. But the Americans had delayed and reinforced, limiting the German offensive to a westward bulge in the line, which was steadily being pressed back to the German border. The ruined remnants of the German force were now struggling back into Germany through the snow and ice, the Americans thoroughly in control of the military situation. Guderian could see the wasted opportunity on the Russian front. Far fewer troops could have dug in defensively and held the Americans and British off during the winter, with the remainder sent to the