"The odds are stacked against us, but with our resolve relentless, and arrogance their weakness! Our cause is just, we won't be beaten!" Declaration Day by Iced Earth
Chapter 9
Desperate measures
September 18, 1944. Just outside Arnhem, Holland.
Major Ingram had just finished speaking with General Urquhart, and was making his way back to his men as best he could in the dark. It was around 2:00 in the morning, and the effects of a sleepless night were becoming more apparent. Ingram's mind felt hazy as he struggled to run through the information that Urquhart had just given him.
"Christ man, you need some rest" a voice in the major's mind scolded him.
"No time for rest, there's work to do" another voice argued back.
With the resolve of a British Officer, Ingram walked back to where his SAS men had gathered and were awaiting his orders. The men immediately came to attention when they saw him approaching.
"Right men, we have our orders" the major announced as he moved to the center of the group and glancing around at the mixture of new and old faces, "as you know by now, the enemy has formed a defensive line blocking our route into Arnhem. Our orders are to split up and attack the line from its flanks to weaken it enough for 1st Battalion to break through. Any questions?" the men stayed silent, "good, then I want team one to go with Lieutenant Bray and team two will accompany me. Dismissed!"
There were 200 SAS men in all, and so they divided themselves into two groups of 100. Doyle, Keith, and Starkey made sure to be among those who would be under Ingram, and the major gave them a smile of appreciation at this. When everyone was divvied up into their respective groups, the men parted ways. One group headed back down the road in order to reach the far left flank of the line, while Ingram led his group up the road to reach the far right of it.
The far right consisted of two building with a wall in between them. An MG-42 had been set up on the wall between the structures and soon had the SAS men pinned behind a wall that ran alongside the road. Crouched behind the wall, Ingram gestured toward Doyle who was a few feet from him. As bullets bounced off the top of the wall, Doyle army crawled his way over to his CO.
"I want you, Keith, and Starkey to accompany me, we are going to flank that MG through that house there" Ingram explained, gesturing toward the life on the right of the wall.
"Aye sir, but how the hell do expect to get there?" the latter called back.
"There's a sort of ditch that runs along the road. It goes low enough that I don't think Gerry will spot us. We move through there and then clear out the house and MG position" the major stated his plan, and Doyle gave it a nod of approval.
"But just the four of us, sir?
"A bigger group would just slow us down. Right lads, hold here until the MG fire ceases, then rush that position!" Ingram shouted to the pinned SAS operatives.
The darkness of the early morning hid the four soldiers as they crawled down the ditch toward their target. Ingram went first followed by Doyle who was followed by Keith and Starkey brought up the rear. As it turned out, getting inside the house was easier said than done. Upon reaching the far right side of the building, Ingram and his squad found that several Germans were positioned in a small shop and were covering the road. In order to reach the house, the four men would have to cross the road under fire from the position.
"Right, we do this in two man teams. Keith, you and Starkey suppress those Gerrys in that shop there while me and Doyle cross, then we'll suppress while you two cross" Ingram ordered the Scotsman, who nodded before he and Starkey began peppering the German position with their Stens.
While the Germans fired back with a mixture of Gewehrs an MP-40s, the fire was inaccurate the Wehrmacht men did not dare reveal themselves from cover for too long. Taking advantage of this, Doyle and Ingram ran across the open road as fast as they could. Without slowing down, Doyle ran into the door to the house with his shoulder, and the barrier flew off its hinges. Ingram was right behind Doyle and he saw a German with a Kar98 rifle aiming at the temporarily disorientated lieutenant. In one swift motion, the major pulled a Webley Revolver and fired three shots. One missed, but the other two struck the man in the chest, and he fell dead.
Doyle, regaining his composure, ran over to the dead German. There was a shout, and he looked up to see a Heer man with a knife charging down the stairs from the second floor. Doyle scooped up the Kar98 Rifle from the attacker's dead comrade and fired. The shot struck the man's neck, and he tumbled the rest of the way down the stairs before writhing briefly on the floor making a chocking noise, then all was still.
"Thank you" Doyle nodded to Ingram appreciatively.
"Can't let some Gerry just pop you off while you're out of commission, wouldn't be very sportsmanlike" the latter replied with a grin.
"ANYTIME NOW, GERALD!" came Keith's voice from outside.
"Oh right, Doyle, get in that window and give Keith and Starkey some suppressing fire!" the major gestured toward one of the windows facing the shop before taking up position behind one of his own.
Once Doyle was in position, the two Englishmen fired their own Stens onto the enemy. Shortly afterward, Keith and Starkey entered the house.
"Thought you'd forgotten us, major" Starkey observed.
"Momentary lapse, lieutenant, it's been a late night after all".
Despite their circumstances, the four men laughed. Then, Ingram led the way over to the door opposite where they had entered. He opened it cautiously and found himself looking out onto the backside of the wall. There were at least five Germans taking cover, six including the man working the MG-42, and they were all lined up perfectly.
"Doyle, Keith, get some grenades out there, then mop up any survivors" Ingram whispered to his comrades.
The two SAS men loaded fresh clips into their Stens before taking up positions on either side of the door. After waiting a few seconds, they both took a M2 Fragmentation Grenade from their belts and grasped the pins. They pulled the pins, but did not allow the triggering mechanism to fly off just yet.
"On three" Doyle mouthed to Keith, who nodded, "one….two…three!"
Releasing the mechanism, the two soldiers flung the explosives through the open doorway. There were screams of alarm, which were cut off by two massive explosions. Two of the soldiers were ripped in half by the explosions instantly, including the Machine gunner. Those that were only wounded by shrapnel either fell to the ground shrieking, or attempted to run, which resulted in them being cut down by fire from the paratroopers who were still firing from behind the wall across the road.
Once the area behind the wall was clear, Ingram stepped out and began gesturing for the no longer pinned Airborne to move up. They did so, but were immediately met by fire from the house on the left side of the all. Seeing the men being shot as they crossed the road, Ingram turned back to his squad.
"We have to clear out that other house, let's move!" he shouted before sprinting across the open area between the two structures.
Doyle and the others swiftly followed their CO to the door and got into breaching position. Once this was done, Ingram opened the door, and Doyle threw a grenade inside. The subsequent explosion was followed by screams of pain and fear. Ingram led the way inside, and his squad members gunned down any survivors.
"Starkey, with me upstairs! Doyle, you and Keith clear the basement!" Gerald issued his orders, and the squad split to carry them out.
Doyle went first down the stairwell, and was met with a door leading into the basement. The two comrades took up breaching positions. This time Keith was the one who threw the grenade, but unlike last time, there were no screams following the explosion. Fearing that the enemy was simply behind sturdy cover, the two SAS men entered the basement cautiously. It was average basement with some stored furniture and a rack of wine bottles (which were miraculously untouched by the grenade explosion). Suddenly, there was a yell and a gunshot as a German hiding behind a couch covered with a sheet jumped up and fired off a shot from his Kar98.
The bullet grazed Doyle's neck, and he let out a grunt and fell to the side as Keith opened fire. The German was dead before he could bolt his weapon, and Keith ran over to his old friend to check on his condition.
"It's just a scratch, I'll be fine" Doyle waved off Keith's offer of helping him upstairs and to a medic.
Suddenly, Major Ingram and Starkey entered the basement.
"We 'eard gunshots. Is everything alright?" Starkey inquired.
"Aye, Doyle here just took a nasty winger off the Bosche, he'll be fine though" Keith explained, before turning and making his way over to the wine rack.
"I'll be alright, sir" Doyle concurred to his CO, who still wore a concerned expression.
"It's nothing a little drink won't fix, eh Doyle?" Keith continued in an excited voice as he took one of the bottles from the wine rack and popped the cork from it.
Ingram, a furious look on his face, strode over and grabbed the bottle out of Keith's hands before he could take even a sip from it and smashed it on the ground.
"What the bloody Hell, Gerald?" the Scotsman shouted incredulously.
"Sergeant, you will refer to me as Major or sir, do you understand?" Ingram shouted back.
"Aye sir, but I was just gonna have one wee drink! What the hell is wrong with….!"
"I'll tell you what's wrong with that!" the latter interrupted Keith, "with you, one drink soon becomes two, then three, then ten, and next thing I know, you're out doing some wayward action that makes you look like a fool, makes me look like an ass, and disgraces this entire regiment! NOW GET THE FUCK BACK UPSTAIRS!"
All was quiet as Doyle and Starkey looked on in total shock. Doyle was not sure he had ever heard Ingram say the f-word before. After another few minutes silence, Keith saluted the major and mumbled "aye, sir" before trudging upstairs. Ingram gave Doyle and Starkey an exasperated look, then followed the sergeant; Starkey went next. Doyle took one last look at the wine rack before heading up as well.
It was shaping up to be a shitty night.
December 19, 1944. Eight miles east of Noville, Belgium.
It was sunrise and Guzzo, Nichols, and Laughlin were still walking through the deep snow toward Bastogne. Now however, as the rising sun began to illuminate the snow blanketed countryside, the three Americans could see the amount of Germans between them and safety. There were whole temporary camps of the enemy all over the open countryside, and several of these camps had multiple tanks with them.
"Jesus Christ, it's a full offensive" Guzzo whispered upon stopping to survey the line of Germans.
"Yeah, and it's between us and Bastogne" Nichols observed dishearteningly.
Guzzo let out a heavy sigh and took the helmet form his head. It was tough being the guy in charge sometimes. After a few minutes, he looked back out from behind the small barn that the three men had taken cover behind. After scanning the horizon a bit more, the sergeant noticed a Panzer IV tank that had been pulled over to the side of the road to be refueled. A grin came across Guzzo's face as a crazy, yet possibly genius, plan formed in his mind.
"What if we jack that Panzer?" Salvador suggested to Nichols, gesturing toward the pulled over tank.
"Are you crazy? What good will that do?" the latter exclaimed.
"It's a goddamn tank; we can blow right through those Krauts and pull into Bastogne in style".
"No way, none of us even knows how to drive that thing".
"How different could it be from a car?" Guzzo asked with a shrug.
"You tell me what model car has 3 inch armor and 7.5 cm cannon, and I'll back this" Nichols shot back.
"Do you have any better suggestions?" the sergeant demanded, causing Nichols to fall silent. Guzzo let out a sigh and looked back around the corner at the tank, then back at his two comrades. "Look, there are only three guys guarding it. We can take 'em, it may be our best shot at getting past Fritz" he pushed his point one last time.
After a few minutes of thought, Nichols nodded in consent. "Alright, I'm in" he agreed, and then they both turned to Laughlin.
"Hey, you guys ain't got me killed yet. Guess that's gotta count for something" the private observed with a shrug.
"Alright, let's move".
A few minutes later, one of the Germans was lighting a cigarette when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned and found himself face to face with Guzzo.
"Gutentag" the American sergeant said with a smile before hitting the German in the face with the butt of his Thompson, knocking the man out.
Another German poked his head out of the tank's hatch, and Laughlin instantly had his rifle wrapped around the Kraut's neck, choking him until he too passed out. Nichols had already knocked out the German fueling the tank in back, and Guzzo prepared to get in the tank, when he paused and returned to the soldier he had taken out. After some digging around in the man's pockets, the sergeant found what he was looking for, a pack of cigarettes.
"Thanks brother" he nodded to the unconscious German before climbing into the tank with his two other squad members.
The inside of the tank was a very cramped space, especially since a large stack of shells took a large portion of the back. Guzzo took position in the driver's seat, and glanced out the small opening in front of him. The snow covered road stretched out before them.
"We all fueled up?" he asked.
"Yeah, they were just finishing up when we hit 'em" Nichols replied.
Guzzo glanced around at the set of switches and pedals before him. How the heck did one start this crazy contraption? After a few experimental tries, he found the button, and the tank roared to life.
"Right, it's just like a big car, so…." He pushed down on the largest of the pedals at his feet, and the behemoth lurched forward down the road.
The three men were rather excited as they continued down the road in their tank, yes they were already beginning to think of it as their tank, until they came to one of the camps. Watching through the observation port, Guzzo saw several heads turn to watch them, but no one tried to stop the vehicle. Just as they made it through the blockade and began to breathe a sigh of relief, a voice crackled through on the radio. The voice spoke in rapid German, and none of them could understand what it was saying.
"What's he saying?" Laughlin asked aloud.
"He's asking about your sister" Guzzo shot back sarcastically.
"Very fucking funny, seriously, what's he saying?"
"I don't have a fucking clue, who am I, von Hindenburg?"
Suddenly, the voice on the radio became harsher, and spoke more rapidly.
"Oooh, that don't sound good" Laughlin observed.
"Gee, you think?" Guzzo retaliated, switching off the radio.
"Ithink we're doing something wrong, and I think they're noticing" Nichols broke in.
Suddenly, an explosion was heard, and the tank rattled slightly.
"Shit, get up there and see what the Hell's going on!" Guzzo ordered Nichols, and the corporal opened up the tank hatch before sticking his head out into the cold air.
He swore loudly upon turning around and spotting two Panzer IIIs right behind them were giving chase and firing on the hijacked Panzer IV.
"We got company; two Panzer IIIs are trying to take us out!" Nichols called back down to his compatriots.
Guzzo pushed the gas pedal all the way to the floor, and the tank lurched forward at full speed. But it was a medium class tank, and had no hope of outrunning the fast light tanks on its tail. It did have its own advantage, however.
"Laughlin, get that turret turned around and load in a shell" he shouted to the private.
"What?" the latter shouted back in surprise.
"We got a bigger gun than them, what good is it if we don't use it?"
Laughlin did as he was told, and swiveled the tank's turret so it was facing the enemy in the rear. Nichols called out corrections as best he could as the private loaded in tanks shells and fired them back at the pursuing tanks.
"Move it a little to the left!" with this correction, Laughlin fired, and this time heard a loud explosion and a yell of triumph from Nichols. "You got one, you got one" the corporal called down the hatch.
"What about the other one?" Guzzo queried.
"He's….he's turning back, he's running" Nichols reported with a laugh of triumph.
Guzzo stopped the tank, and moved over to the hatch. Nichols ducked back down inside to allow the latter to move up through the hatch and take a look for himself. The Panzer III was indeed in retreat, and the sergeant made his own yell of victory.
"I don't get it, why did he run?" Laughlin asked, the anxiousness clear in his voice.
"Cause he's scared shitless, that's why" Guzzo replied dismissively.
An explosion suddenly erupted just off to the tank's left, and Guzzo spun around to face a terrifying sight. A small town was only yards ahead, and positioned in front of the town were two M18 Tanks Destroyers; American tanks destroyers.
"Holy shit, wait, stop, we're American!" the sergeant shouted in vain as the AT vehicles continued to fire on what they perceived as the enemy.
"Everybody out, now!" Guzzo screamed as he climbed out of the hatch and jumped off the tank.
The other two followed his suit, with Nichols exiting last. Just as he was about to leap off the back of the tank, one of the AT shells hit its mark, and the front of the tank exploded, sending Nichols flying off the back and into the soft, snowy ground.
"Krauts try to kill us, and now our own countrymen! This is turning out to be one shitty day!" was the last thought that passed through Jack's mind before the inky blackness of unconsciousness overtook him.
Hello folks, well I'll be honest, the future of this story was rather sketchy for a little bit. But after receiving some rather reinvigorating reviews, I have decided to see it through to the end. I would just like to close by saying that, in my humble opinion, there are too few WW2 stories in the CoD category. Any of you authors out there who are reading, I challenge you to write your own story set in WWII, the veterans of which, the first game of this great series was dedicated to. Happy reading, and thanks for the reviews, they gave this story a future :). Cheers.