Stalemate (The Red Gambit Series) by Colin Gee Read Free Book Online

shortly.”
    Salutes were exchanged and the junior man rode away.
    “Comrade Kazakov, gather up the survivors and get them back to Wolfegg. Get the mounts and men fed and rested. We’ll be passing over to the infantry soon enough. I’ll bring the Regiment back to you.”
    Kazakov looked at the Colonel without comprehension.
    Pugachev realised the man’s lack of understanding.
    “You’re it, Comrade Starshina.”
    ‘Job tvoyu mat!’
    That he had just been bumped to Starshina was lost on Kazakov.
    Raising his voice, the Colonel spoke to the shattered men around him.
    “Comrades! Well done! Well done! You broke the enemy. Now, go with Starshina Kazakov, and we will organise you somewhere dry and warm to rest. And some hot food too.”
    The men drifted in the directi on of the still bemused Kazakov, the occasional attempt at ‘Urrah’ stifled by their recent experiences.
    “Look after them, Comrade Starshina.”
    Kazakov nodded and led the survivors back towards Wolfegg.
    Pugachev watched them go .
    He spared a moment to look around the deserted position and then mounted up, moving forward to liaise with his battalion commanders.
    A bird starting tweeting in the trees.
    A tree cracked as fire reached a pocket of resin.
    A distant gun discharged.
    A flare thudded as it exploded into light.
    The battlefield that had been so alive with sound fell into relative silence, the Soviet wounded removed, the Third’s survivors on their walk to the rear.
    Everyone was gone.
    All except for ‘B’ Company, 1st/2nd [King Edward VII’s Own] Gurkha Rifles.
    Captain Lawrence Graham MC, Company Havildar Major Dhankumar Gurung, Naik Gajhang Rai, and their men , held the line, still.
     
2052hrs, Friday 7th September 1945, Airborne, east of Wolfegg, Germany.
 
    The Beaufighter was a British bird, designed as a heavy fighter, and achieving the ‘heavy’ in spades. However, she was a beautiful aircraft to fly, and packed a punch, four 20mm cannon and six machine-guns ready for anyone who got in her way.
    However, ‘Gypsy Queen III’, a Mark VI-F version in the air over Wolfegg, belonged to the 416th Night Fighter Squadron of the USAAF, and it wore a number of hats that evening.
    The Mark VIII radar reported no contacts, which was no surprise, the Red Air Force having lost the night skies some time before.
    Occasionally, some bigwig had risked a short hop on an aircraft, but Zhukov had now ordered his senior officers to avoid such stupidity, having lost three Army commanders in a week to night fighter attacks.
    Soviet artillery spotting was their next purpose, the telltale trails of rockets or the muzzle flashes located and positions relayed back to waiting allied gunners.
    When the 22nd Cossack Regiment finally sorted out its artillery support, the commander called down fire on the withdrawing Gurkhas, determined to press them and stop them from settling. More guns joined in as the self-propelled 122mm howitzers of the 1814th Gun regiment deployed, dropping their heavier shells to great effect.
    Clark, ‘Gypsy Queen III’s’ pilot, turned his Beaufighter gently, summoning the observer up to the cockpit.
    “Sam, two o’clock low, muzzle flashes, say a battalion’s worth at minimum.”
    “Yeah, I gottem, Cap’n,” the statement was slightly lost, as a map was noisily jostled into position.
    Without regard t o the niceties of rank, Samuel J. King sought information.
    “Any landmarks?”
    “Yeah, Sam, Lakes.” The water surface, now between them and the setting sun, proved an excellent point of reference, the shape of the lake prescribed in deep yellow.
    “Reckon that one is due east of Wolfegg. The Stock?”
    A further moment of intense map rustling followed, terminated by the observer’s head reappearing.
    ‘Yep, reckon so Cap’n.”
    King seemed slow to most people, but Clark understood his man well, and knew he was just methodical in his approach , and didn’t rush into making mistakes.
    “Flashes on the ground