Opening Moves

Von Arnesen was next in, stopping the regulation distance in front of Knocke before clicking his heels and reporting in the old Prussian style, before he remembered the circumstances and place, and his wounded thigh reminded him he needed to relax his posture.

“Sir, Mademoiselle Valois is now in the hospital. The medics say her wounds are painful but not threatening. She asked me to thank you.”

Knocke inclined his head, acknowledging De Walle obvious joy and encouraging his stalwart to go on with his report.

“DerBo will live, although he may yet lose his arm. The doctors are unclear.”

A nod acknowledged another comrade had been spared.

“Von Hardegen isn’t scratched but he does have concussion.”

A moment’s interruption as a Legionnaire walked in, saluted, and presented De Walle with a report.

“Menzel may not survive. He is next to be operated on; they could tell me no more Sir.”

Knocke made a mental tick in the other column as a white-faced De Walle passed the report to Lavalle.

“Confirmed dead are Matthaus, Olbricht and,” Von Arnesen paused and cleared his throat, “Schmidt.”

The mention of Schmidt’s name brought a look of true sorrow to Knocke’s face. A comrade of many years lost. One of many for sure but Schmidt had been there for what seemed like forever.

“We cannot find Treschow at this time, but it would seem likely that he has perished.”

Lavalle silently sought permission to pass the report onto Knocke, which De Walle granted with a simple nod of his head.

“Herr Knocke, perhaps you would like me to read this to you?”

Haefeli burst into the room, his timing impeccable.

“Have you heard?”

De Walle held out a hand to silence the excited officer, permitting Lavalle to proceed with due gravity.

“We were asking ourselves what this is all about. Now we know.”

Knocke rose to his feet, his need to be professional overcoming his present weakness.

“This is from SHAEF, the Allied headquarters, addressed to all units. What it roughly says is this. At 0530 hrs, units of the Soviet Army, Air Force and Navy launched mass attacks throughout Germany and Austria, and in the Baltic and North Sea’s. We are now at war with the Soviet Union.”

In a Château filled with the freshly slain dead of both sides the information seemed, at first, superfluous. Nevertheless, in the thoughtful silence that followed, all those present realised that here was just the start. Some of the minds present also worked the issue that someone on the other side knew of the colloques and felt them important enough to target in a first wave attack. Two minds present suddenly wrestled with fighting an old adversary once more. The same two minds then wondered how that would be politically accomplished.

Knocke broke the silence. As was his habit, he pulled his tunic into perfect place and moved his hand to pull out his side cap, suddenly remembering that it had been lost.

“I must see to my men. If you will excuse me General De Walle?”

Saluting, Knocke left the room with a firmness of step that he ordered himself to find, suppressing the feelings of nausea that arose when he started to move.

“I meant to ask him what happened to Anne-Marie. Damn it.”

Von Arnesen spoke with the authority and knowledge of a man who was there.

“He saved her life, Herr General. Threw himself on top of her to protect her from a grenade.”

“Go on Monsieur.”

“She got some shrapnel in her shoulder and arm, nothing bad, just superficial I think but I’m no expert Sir.”

“And Herr Knocke? He seems unwounded.”

“These things happen in war as you will know. By rights, he should be dead, but not one fragment struck him, except for a lump taken out of the heel of his boot that is. What you see now is the blast effect. It will pass Herr General.”

Major Marion Crisp strolled in, his uniform in good order, very little outward sign of the recent combat, until he opened his mouth.

His hearing damaged, he spoke as he felt in reasonable volume, whereas he shouted loudly.

The comedy of it was not wasted on the French officers and they took in it good heart. As the only American combat soldier present, Crisp had little by way of official duties, so had taken it upon himself to pick the remaining commandos up and get them back on the horse. His volume and pidgin French had both helped ease tensions with the French troopers, and they were lifted when it became clear that Dubois had survived the attack with nothing more than a messy but relatively minor wound.

Crisp concluded his report and the hall echoed with his words for a few seconds.

De Walle shouted his thanks back and indicated the jugs of water that the surviving orderly had placed there to quench thirsts and drive away the dust of battle.

Exchanging nods with Von Arnesen, the American Major drank his fill.

The next man in had not been spared the signs of battle, despite a valiant attempt to pass the day off as any other.