33
Soldiers of Destruction
Indiana Jones grabbed Vadoma Maniskelko's hand and pulled her down to the ground along with him.
"Roll!" He whispered forcefully.
The pair rolled under the gypsy wagon that was immediately behind them. It was a calculated risk, but the daring move went unnoticed as the SS continued to brutalize the gypsies and herd them into a tighter group in front of the wagons.
Jones rapidly scanned his eyes around from the narrow space between the ground and the bottom of the wagon where they lay. They were only a couple of meters from the riverbank.
"Crawl with me!" He whispered to Vadoma, and then began moving his body along the ground in the direction of the river. He said a silent prayer that the wagon would block the view of the SS men.
Their luck held, and a few moments later they both tumbled over the side of the muddy riverbank unseen. Good thing it wasn't spring, Jones thought, or the water would be higher, but as it was still winter the level was low and there was a small strip of mud upon which they could crawl along the bank. The bank itself was almost a meter in height, blocking the view of the Nazis.....hopefully.
Like two snakes the pair began slithering through the icy cold mud with Jones leading, struggling to make their way along towards where the clearing ended and the woods began. It was about thirty meters to the tree line and they hugged the wall of the riverbank as tightly as possible to keep from being seen.
The maneuver was working for about half the distance they needed, but it was with a sinking feeling that Jones heard the distinct report of a German Mauser rifle, and saw a clod of earth spray up into the air just a couple of feet in front of his face. This was followed by excited shouts in German that were directed their way.
Indiana Jones didn't need any translation, "Run!" He called back to Vadoma and grabbed her hand. He stood up quickly and pulled the girl to her feet. They took off running up the river bank; running for their lives.
Two more Mausers barked. A fountain of water sprayed up from the river to his right, and another clod of earth spattered Jones with mud on the left. He took a quick look back to see the two pursuing, steel helmeted SS soldiers resetting the bolt actions on their rifles for another shot.
"Faster!" Jones pulled Vadoma along.
For a brief moment Indy's feet became entangled in a series of tree roots that obstructed their path. He stumbled, but maintained his balance. Vadoma was not so lucky though as she tripped badly and fell headlong into the mud. The speed with which they were running and the suddenness of the fall rudely separated Jones grasp from her hand, and he found himself running forward alone.
With the tree line just three or four meters ahead, Jones slowed and turned. He turned in time to see one of the soldiers reaching down, grabbing Vadoma and dragging her up from the river bank by her hair. He also saw the other soldier drawing a bead on him with his rifle.
Split second decisions seemed to be the order of the day.
Indiana Jones pulled his Webley and dropped to the ground. An 8 millimeter Mauser round whizzed through the air above his head and embedded itself in a tree behind him. Jones took aim from his prone position and fired back two rounds. One of them caught the Nazi in the chest and dropped him.
The sight of their comrade lying bleeding on the ground shocked the SS troopers who hadn't suspected that the gypsy with the fedora and leather jacket had been armed. But being the experienced dealers in death that they were, they quickly recovered and now two more soldiers detached themselves from their positions and converged towards Indiana Jones from different directions. Jones saw the maneuver and knew that he was outgunned. He needed to move, and fast.
He watched as the other soldier dragged Vadoma back over to the rest of the gypsies, kicked her, and then roughly threw her to the ground.
"Damnit!" Indiana Jones exclaimed in helpless frustration.
Jones got up and ran a quick zigzag pattern for the woods, evading two more 8 millimeter rounds that tore through the air on either side of him. Once in the woods he didn't stop or slow down. He knew that his only chance would be to put some distance between him and his pursuers as quickly as possible. Branches and bushes scratched and tore at his face and hands as he hurtled through the thick woods and accompanying underbrush. He put his head down and kept charging forward, ignoring the pain of the small cuts and lacerations.
Shouts in German could be heard behind him in the distance, but they soon grew fainter. Apparently the two SS soldiers who pursued him were going to take the methodical approach rather than plunge headlong after him. The pause was just what Jones needed. He would set a trap for his pursuers.
Among the densely packed trees he selected a particularly stout alpine oak. He quickly scurried up the thick trunk and on to one of the larger, overhanging branches. There he lay down, panting from the exertion, and waited. The branch was thick, nearly as thick as his body, so it almost obscured him from below. But even though some portions of his body could be seen, the dark brown of his leather jacket, and khaki pants blended in well enough to keep him close to invisible from below. He on the other hand enjoyed an unobstructed view of the ground underneath him.
Jones lay there and waited for the approaching Nazi soldiers; not entirely sure of what he was going to do, but at least it gave him a chance to think. In his mind he went over the situation.
To just keep running through the woods he decided would do him no good. Sure he might be able to make it to Lake Constance, but more probably not. It was at least ten miles, he was unsure of the terrain, and he was now a hunted man. The Nazis were considerably more ruthless in their methods than Scotland Yard or a handful of French Gendarmes.
And besides, he didn't want to leave Vadoma behind.
The situation wasn't good any way you sliced it, but rather than just be hunted down like a dog Indiana Jones wanted to at least try to save Vadoma. And, he thought with bold clarity, he could get to the lake a lot faster with one of those Nazi armored vehicles. The odds were long, but he felt he didn't really have a choice now.
The snap of twigs beneath heavy jack boots alerted him to the approach of one of the SS soldiers. A moment later the field grey uniformed trooper came into view. There was no sign of the other, so they must have split up, Jones thought. The man had slung his Mauser rifle over his back; too unwieldy in the densely packed trees and thick underbrush. Instead, the soldier gripped his Luger pistol tightly in his hand as he stalked his prey.
It was apparent that Jones had left a trail because the Nazi soldier followed the exact path that the archaeologist had. Jones hoped that he hadn't left any tell tale signs of climbing on the trunk; he didn't relish the idea of being shot out of the tree like some kind of cornered animal.
Indy gripped tightly to his Webley and waited for the man below him to cross under his branch. He resisted the temptation to just shoot him right then and there; not wanting to alert the other Nazi soldier. Jones planned to take him out quietly instead.
A few more steps and the man was close to where Jones wanted him. But he wasn't coming any closer. Jones watched as the man stopped, and then studied the trunk of the tree. A moment later the Nazi turned his head to look up.
Indiana Jones had to act right away. Though the soldier was a bit further away than he had wanted him, Jones leaped from the tree and made a direct landing atop the startled man. He knocked him to the ground with enough force to launch the helmet off of his head. Jones didn't give him a chance to react. He needed to put him out before he could shout for help. The archaeologist immediately swung his Webley handgun down hard into the side of the man's now exposed head. Nickel plated steel met bone with a force that Indiana Jones was sure caused at least a major skull fracture.....at best the man was dead. But this was life and death. The Nazi hadn't been able to give the alarm and that's all that counted to Jones right now.
The archaeologist picked up the SS trooper's Luger pistol and thrust it into his pocket. Then, staying low to the ground, he prepared to set off back towards the clearing and the gypsy camp.
He didn't get far though before the other SS soldier came into view. Lucky for Jones, he saw the Nazi first. This man had also slung his Mauser in favor of the Luger.
"Hans?" he called out quietly to his comrade.
Hidden from view, Hans' body lay near to the trunk of the large oak tree that Jones now squatted behind.
"Hans?" The Nazi drew closer.
Indiana Jones reached over and silently picked up Hans' steel helmet and put away his own Webley. He waited until the second Nazi soldier approached close to the opposite side of the tree trunk and then crept silently around behind him.
"Hans!" Nazi number two shouted as he finally stumbled upon his comrade lying on the ground, blood oozing from his ears and the side of his head.
But those were Nazi number two's last words before his own world exploded.
Indiana Jones came up from behind and swung Hans' heavy steel helmet with all the force he could bring.
CLANG!!
The force of the helmet on helmet blow brought the man to his knees.
BONG!!
The second blow put out his lights for good.
The man fell forward on his face. Jones grabbed his Luger pistol and shoved it into his pocket along with Hans' weapon; the more firepower the better, though he left the more cumbersome Mausers behind.
Now Indiana Jones hurried back through the forest toward the gypsy camp. He was cautious, not knowing whether they had sent any more than these two after him, but he ran into no other SS troops. In a few minutes he stood at the edge of the clearing, concealed behind the trunk of a conifer. The sight that greeted him was one of abject terror.
There in the middle of the clearing the Nazis had lined up at least a dozen gypsies; they were on their knees and their hands were bound behind their backs. Cowering in a huddled, crying, miserable group was the rest of the kumpania.
While Jones couldn't understand the German being spoken he could clearly understand the wailing cries for mercy and pleas for the lives of loved ones that were about to be slaughtered by the merciless SS men who stood dispassionately by with their weapons leveled.
Jones' heart skipped a beat as he saw Vadoma among the group about to be executed. She held her head down dejectedly; her beautiful dark hair trailed down almost to the ground. Even from the distance he was at Indy could see the reflection of the tears that ran down her face.
Choices.
Indiana Jones could slink back into the woods and try to make his way to Lake Constance, and then across to Switzerland...he might just make it. Or, he could do something right now about the horror he was seeing in front of his eyes.
But that decision was easy.
The hard part was figuring out the 'something'.
He heard the Hauptsturmfuhrer bark out some orders and watched as the Nazi executioners jacked the bolt actions on their rifles. If Jones was going to do something he'd better hurry the hell up.
The SS men raised their rifles. One executioner stood behind each victim.
The Hauptsturmfuhrer shouted again.
Vadoma prepared to die.
Indiana Jones knew he was too late to save the beautiful gypsy woman.
Soldiers of Destruction
Indiana Jones grabbed Vadoma Maniskelko's hand and pulled her down to the ground along with him.
"Roll!" He whispered forcefully.
The pair rolled under the gypsy wagon that was immediately behind them. It was a calculated risk, but the daring move went unnoticed as the SS continued to brutalize the gypsies and herd them into a tighter group in front of the wagons.
Jones rapidly scanned his eyes around from the narrow space between the ground and the bottom of the wagon where they lay. They were only a couple of meters from the riverbank.
"Crawl with me!" He whispered to Vadoma, and then began moving his body along the ground in the direction of the river. He said a silent prayer that the wagon would block the view of the SS men.
Their luck held, and a few moments later they both tumbled over the side of the muddy riverbank unseen. Good thing it wasn't spring, Jones thought, or the water would be higher, but as it was still winter the level was low and there was a small strip of mud upon which they could crawl along the bank. The bank itself was almost a meter in height, blocking the view of the Nazis.....hopefully.
Like two snakes the pair began slithering through the icy cold mud with Jones leading, struggling to make their way along towards where the clearing ended and the woods began. It was about thirty meters to the tree line and they hugged the wall of the riverbank as tightly as possible to keep from being seen.
The maneuver was working for about half the distance they needed, but it was with a sinking feeling that Jones heard the distinct report of a German Mauser rifle, and saw a clod of earth spray up into the air just a couple of feet in front of his face. This was followed by excited shouts in German that were directed their way.
Indiana Jones didn't need any translation, "Run!" He called back to Vadoma and grabbed her hand. He stood up quickly and pulled the girl to her feet. They took off running up the river bank; running for their lives.
Two more Mausers barked. A fountain of water sprayed up from the river to his right, and another clod of earth spattered Jones with mud on the left. He took a quick look back to see the two pursuing, steel helmeted SS soldiers resetting the bolt actions on their rifles for another shot.
"Faster!" Jones pulled Vadoma along.
For a brief moment Indy's feet became entangled in a series of tree roots that obstructed their path. He stumbled, but maintained his balance. Vadoma was not so lucky though as she tripped badly and fell headlong into the mud. The speed with which they were running and the suddenness of the fall rudely separated Jones grasp from her hand, and he found himself running forward alone.
With the tree line just three or four meters ahead, Jones slowed and turned. He turned in time to see one of the soldiers reaching down, grabbing Vadoma and dragging her up from the river bank by her hair. He also saw the other soldier drawing a bead on him with his rifle.
Split second decisions seemed to be the order of the day.
Indiana Jones pulled his Webley and dropped to the ground. An 8 millimeter Mauser round whizzed through the air above his head and embedded itself in a tree behind him. Jones took aim from his prone position and fired back two rounds. One of them caught the Nazi in the chest and dropped him.
The sight of their comrade lying bleeding on the ground shocked the SS troopers who hadn't suspected that the gypsy with the fedora and leather jacket had been armed. But being the experienced dealers in death that they were, they quickly recovered and now two more soldiers detached themselves from their positions and converged towards Indiana Jones from different directions. Jones saw the maneuver and knew that he was outgunned. He needed to move, and fast.
He watched as the other soldier dragged Vadoma back over to the rest of the gypsies, kicked her, and then roughly threw her to the ground.
"Damnit!" Indiana Jones exclaimed in helpless frustration.
Jones got up and ran a quick zigzag pattern for the woods, evading two more 8 millimeter rounds that tore through the air on either side of him. Once in the woods he didn't stop or slow down. He knew that his only chance would be to put some distance between him and his pursuers as quickly as possible. Branches and bushes scratched and tore at his face and hands as he hurtled through the thick woods and accompanying underbrush. He put his head down and kept charging forward, ignoring the pain of the small cuts and lacerations.
Shouts in German could be heard behind him in the distance, but they soon grew fainter. Apparently the two SS soldiers who pursued him were going to take the methodical approach rather than plunge headlong after him. The pause was just what Jones needed. He would set a trap for his pursuers.
Among the densely packed trees he selected a particularly stout alpine oak. He quickly scurried up the thick trunk and on to one of the larger, overhanging branches. There he lay down, panting from the exertion, and waited. The branch was thick, nearly as thick as his body, so it almost obscured him from below. But even though some portions of his body could be seen, the dark brown of his leather jacket, and khaki pants blended in well enough to keep him close to invisible from below. He on the other hand enjoyed an unobstructed view of the ground underneath him.
Jones lay there and waited for the approaching Nazi soldiers; not entirely sure of what he was going to do, but at least it gave him a chance to think. In his mind he went over the situation.
To just keep running through the woods he decided would do him no good. Sure he might be able to make it to Lake Constance, but more probably not. It was at least ten miles, he was unsure of the terrain, and he was now a hunted man. The Nazis were considerably more ruthless in their methods than Scotland Yard or a handful of French Gendarmes.
And besides, he didn't want to leave Vadoma behind.
The situation wasn't good any way you sliced it, but rather than just be hunted down like a dog Indiana Jones wanted to at least try to save Vadoma. And, he thought with bold clarity, he could get to the lake a lot faster with one of those Nazi armored vehicles. The odds were long, but he felt he didn't really have a choice now.
The snap of twigs beneath heavy jack boots alerted him to the approach of one of the SS soldiers. A moment later the field grey uniformed trooper came into view. There was no sign of the other, so they must have split up, Jones thought. The man had slung his Mauser rifle over his back; too unwieldy in the densely packed trees and thick underbrush. Instead, the soldier gripped his Luger pistol tightly in his hand as he stalked his prey.
It was apparent that Jones had left a trail because the Nazi soldier followed the exact path that the archaeologist had. Jones hoped that he hadn't left any tell tale signs of climbing on the trunk; he didn't relish the idea of being shot out of the tree like some kind of cornered animal.
Indy gripped tightly to his Webley and waited for the man below him to cross under his branch. He resisted the temptation to just shoot him right then and there; not wanting to alert the other Nazi soldier. Jones planned to take him out quietly instead.
A few more steps and the man was close to where Jones wanted him. But he wasn't coming any closer. Jones watched as the man stopped, and then studied the trunk of the tree. A moment later the Nazi turned his head to look up.
Indiana Jones had to act right away. Though the soldier was a bit further away than he had wanted him, Jones leaped from the tree and made a direct landing atop the startled man. He knocked him to the ground with enough force to launch the helmet off of his head. Jones didn't give him a chance to react. He needed to put him out before he could shout for help. The archaeologist immediately swung his Webley handgun down hard into the side of the man's now exposed head. Nickel plated steel met bone with a force that Indiana Jones was sure caused at least a major skull fracture.....at best the man was dead. But this was life and death. The Nazi hadn't been able to give the alarm and that's all that counted to Jones right now.
The archaeologist picked up the SS trooper's Luger pistol and thrust it into his pocket. Then, staying low to the ground, he prepared to set off back towards the clearing and the gypsy camp.
He didn't get far though before the other SS soldier came into view. Lucky for Jones, he saw the Nazi first. This man had also slung his Mauser in favor of the Luger.
"Hans?" he called out quietly to his comrade.
Hidden from view, Hans' body lay near to the trunk of the large oak tree that Jones now squatted behind.
"Hans?" The Nazi drew closer.
Indiana Jones reached over and silently picked up Hans' steel helmet and put away his own Webley. He waited until the second Nazi soldier approached close to the opposite side of the tree trunk and then crept silently around behind him.
"Hans!" Nazi number two shouted as he finally stumbled upon his comrade lying on the ground, blood oozing from his ears and the side of his head.
But those were Nazi number two's last words before his own world exploded.
Indiana Jones came up from behind and swung Hans' heavy steel helmet with all the force he could bring.
CLANG!!
The force of the helmet on helmet blow brought the man to his knees.
BONG!!
The second blow put out his lights for good.
The man fell forward on his face. Jones grabbed his Luger pistol and shoved it into his pocket along with Hans' weapon; the more firepower the better, though he left the more cumbersome Mausers behind.
Now Indiana Jones hurried back through the forest toward the gypsy camp. He was cautious, not knowing whether they had sent any more than these two after him, but he ran into no other SS troops. In a few minutes he stood at the edge of the clearing, concealed behind the trunk of a conifer. The sight that greeted him was one of abject terror.
There in the middle of the clearing the Nazis had lined up at least a dozen gypsies; they were on their knees and their hands were bound behind their backs. Cowering in a huddled, crying, miserable group was the rest of the kumpania.
While Jones couldn't understand the German being spoken he could clearly understand the wailing cries for mercy and pleas for the lives of loved ones that were about to be slaughtered by the merciless SS men who stood dispassionately by with their weapons leveled.
Jones' heart skipped a beat as he saw Vadoma among the group about to be executed. She held her head down dejectedly; her beautiful dark hair trailed down almost to the ground. Even from the distance he was at Indy could see the reflection of the tears that ran down her face.
Choices.
Indiana Jones could slink back into the woods and try to make his way to Lake Constance, and then across to Switzerland...he might just make it. Or, he could do something right now about the horror he was seeing in front of his eyes.
But that decision was easy.
The hard part was figuring out the 'something'.
He heard the Hauptsturmfuhrer bark out some orders and watched as the Nazi executioners jacked the bolt actions on their rifles. If Jones was going to do something he'd better hurry the hell up.
The SS men raised their rifles. One executioner stood behind each victim.
The Hauptsturmfuhrer shouted again.
Vadoma prepared to die.
Indiana Jones knew he was too late to save the beautiful gypsy woman.