Opening Moves

A bloodied Corporal waved in acknowledgement and hammered on the back of the man nearest him. As the soldier turned, he was thrown backwards, the impact of rifle bullets driving him against the wall three metres behind. The Corporal moved quickly and the heavy hammer of the .50cal rang around the courtyard, a stream of bullets reaching out into the Goumiers pressing up past the Alsatian House, dropping five bloodily to the stone path.

A movement in the doorway of the house caught Rispan’s eye and he put six bullets into something that bled and disappeared.

Fitting the last magazine into the weapon, he looked around for other alternatives. It seemed that the dead commandos and paratroopers spread along the walkway had already been visited by others in search of ammunition and weapons.

Another look at the doorway. Nothing.

He rummaged in a Commando’s pouch and found nothing of value.

An enemy soldier suddenly appeared on the walkway and Rispan shot him down, sending the man over the balustrade, the strangely clad body sliding gently down the angled roof.

In the recess of a shutter, he caught the welcome sight of a pistol and a grenade, which he immediately stowed about his person.

Checking the situation below him, he saw the .50cal standing silent. The Corporal was hugging a shoulder wound as he harangued two other paratroopers, encouraging the reloading process and reporting the progress of the enemy soldiers.

His grenade was out and in the air before Rispan could shout.

“Move back now Comrades! Now!”

The Corporal needed no second order and pushed his men towards the Mill Tower.

The grenade exploded amongst a group of Goumiers, halting the rush in an instant. Two more faces appeared at the Alsatian house door and Rispan switched his attention to them, sending one flying out of sight in a spout of blood and gore.

A burst of fire from the upper window of the house made him drop into cover but the burst was not meant for him. The last surviving member of the Corporal’s section disappeared into the Mill Tower, his two comrades lying desperately wounded behind him.

The SVT brought a body tumbling out of the window to fall onto the stone below.

“Stefka!”

His fiancée had rushed to the dying Corporal and was doing what she could for the man.

“Stefka!”

A rifle grenade exploded on the window frame from where the DP was firing, silencing both weapon and crew instantly.

“Stefka!”

This time she heard and looked up just in time to see Rispan struck by a bullet that folded him double as it made its way through the stomach and out the small of his back. Blood gushed from his mouth almost immediately and he dropped to the stone.

Kolybareva could not drag her eyes away from the still form.

An orderly with her started to stand and was suddenly a mass of scarlet as a sub-machine gun hammered bullets into him at short range.

Another orderly went to run for the Tower door and was also mercilessly shot down.

Senior Lieutenant Doctor Stefka Kolybareva suddenly had stars before her eyes, the butt of an old French Berthier M16 rifle caressing her head, hard enough to drop the woman but not so hard as to deny her the full pleasures the Goumier had in mind for her.

Through misty eyes, Kolybareva saw her senior medic gutted on a wicked Arab knife, his entrails spilling as the sharp blade split his stomach open. The agony dropped the man to his knees. Grasping the dying man by his hair, the Goumier ran the blade up one side of the skull and back down the other, removing the trophies that would mark his prowess in battle around the campfires of his tribe in the years to come.

Throwing the screaming man to the stone, the tribesman moved on, joining others steadily working their way through the wounded men so invitingly gathered for them to harvest.

Vision clearing, Kolybareva felt hands on her, dragging her across to the fountain where other hands pulled and tore at her clothing.

Kusev, the youngest orderly in her medical section, was dragged up beside her, one of his ears dangling half sliced off, his lips split and one eye closed by vicious blows.

The young man had no moment to gather himself as rough hands dragged him upright and threw him over the fountain trough. Both he and Kolybareva realised in an instant what the savages had in mind and the youth started to twist and writhe in an attempt to avoid the rape.

A ‘gentle’ blow stunned the orderly, and he had little comprehension of his trousers being ripped off and a sweating Goumier penetrating him violently.

Finishing quickly, the tribesman moved away to other pleasures and was replaced by another more sadistic rapist.

His pleasures included violent rape of a kind that tore and ripped the young orderly, the pain clearing his stunned brain and permitting him to scream.

Lance-Corporal Nikitin was about to descend from the Mill Tower when the sound summoned him back. Risking a quick look through the shattered upper window, he was both horrified at what he saw and powerless to interfere, his rifle empty.