Opening Moves

“Right Harold, get this lot ready to move, except don’t break down the mortars yet. Get Caesar on finding us a route that isn’t full of commies. I’m gonna dial in the bad news to the Colonel. Don’t get outta sight.”

Throwing a cursory salute up, Brown went efficiently about his orders.

Brennan turned to a worried looking Watkins.

He grabbed his shoulder firmly.

“Don’t worry Addison, I will see you home to your porch in Mobile, come what may. Now get the Colonel on the horn please.”

0513 hrs 11th August 1945, Trendelburg, Germany.

Lieutenant Colonel Chekov’s men had not finished their dangerous work by the time the attack started in earnest but it appeared that the Americans had no orders to blow the bridge in any case. His men, now combat infantry rather than specialists, moved into firing positions from where they could defend the bridge from all sides.

^{Fig#23 – Trendelburg – Sound of shots.}

Chekov’s orders were to maintain fire discipline and to not reveal their presence unless they were attacked.

A squad of running men clattered over the structure and off to the east of the bridge, carefully watched until out of harm’s way.

Machine guns started to hammer out their staccato song off to the southeast and shortly afterwards mortars closer by began to add to the noise.

As dawn’s light began to make itself known, the thunder and lightning started to abate but no one noticed, as man was creating his own type of noisy storm on the Diemal Plain.

Chekov worked out that the 1st Battalion of the Siberians must be attacking enemy positions somewhere near the road from Stammen.

A red-faced and soaking engineer emerged from the water close by and coughed his way up the bank to where the CP had been set.

“Comrade Lieutenant Colonel, Kapitan Smina requests permission to attack the Amerikanisti mortar positions,” he turned and pointed, “Which lie roughly one hundred metres east of the bridge.”

A deeper cough to remove the detritus of his swim and the young soldier continued.

“Kapitan Smina states that he believes he can easily destroy the position with the twelve men he has ready and awaits your reply, Comrade Lieutenant Colonel.”

Chekov smiled. Of course it would be Smina who wanted to attack.

And of course, he would let him.

“Tell your Kapitan that he may do so, but not get involved in anything else, He is to return back once his mission has succeeded or is not possible. Is that clear comrade?”

“Yes Comrade Lieutenant Colonel. I will return immediately.”

The engineer ran back to the water’s edge and plunged into the river once more.

A figure Chekov recognised as Smina met the exhausted man at the water’s edge. A swift discussion took place before the Captain raised his hand to his CO and organised his section for the attack.

The Engineer commander watched as the group all but melted into the ground beyond the bridge.

The firing was increasing in volume and intensity.

Looking at his watch, Chekov correctly calculated that the main advances would now be approaching Deiselburg from the south and Trendelburg from the south-west and southeast.

Whilst Deiselburg was too far away from him for now, he looked out for more opportunity to get involved with the fighting and help his comrades in the infantry and tanks.

His attention was suddenly focussed on intense firing closer at hand as Smina launched his attack. There was no doubt that it had an immediate effect, the distinctive mortar sounds ceasing within seconds, replaced by the unmistakable sound of PPSH sub-machine guns hard at work.

He suddenly remembered the engineer who had donned the American uniform and looked for him but the man was experienced enough to have already cast off the enemy trappings.

‘No sense in getting shot by your own side’.

A new sound emanated from the south-west, unlike anything he or his men had heard before. A low ripping of cloth. Whatever it was the Chekov suspected it was bad news for someone. It was an M16 quad .50cal AA mount, and it was visiting hell upon the motorcycles and armoured cars of the 12th Guards as they tested the Seilerfeld road approach to Trendelburg.

The noise at the mortar position was abating and Chekov was watching carefully for signs of his men returning.

Eleven men had gone forth and the first of them scurried back with a second senseless over his shoulders.

The next two men were supporting another whose screams rose over the increasing sounds of nearby battle. He had no legs.

Four more men slid into view, one of them favouring a wounded side.

‘No more?’

Turning to question his trusted Starshina, he saw that the man was already on his way to the water to swim across and find out what had happened, in company with another NCO he didn’t recognise from the back.

Chekov noted with grim satisfaction that the mortars had not started again.