Rise of the Bloodied Phoenix Read online

  The awaiting Major saluted formally at the entrance to the lavish villa, the General returning the gesture as he climbed the steps, a wide grin spreading across his lips, ‘Only a few hours to go, the Russkies will run in fear and panic…and we will follow…cutting them down!’

  The subordinate turned with his commander, walking forward as a sentry opened the main doors on the porch ahead, his boots snapping together formally as the General nodded to him. The Major coughed nervously, ‘Herr General…the men I spoke to you about earlier have arrived…shall I show them into one of the ground floor rooms for a briefing?’

  The senior officer slowed, turning right into the drab and poorly lit ground floor corridor as his subordinate followed, his head moving to the side as he removed his cap, ‘Yes, let’s get them ready for tomorrow…then they can join the other men. Put them in the lower briefing room and I will join you in about twenty minutes…’ The commander hesitated, thinking for a second, ‘Get them some schnapps…this will be informal…’

  The General continued walking, smiling faintly as he heard the obedient click of boots behind, ‘Jawohl, Herr General!’

  The five soldiers stiffened to attention as the Major stepping into the darkened room, the candle light flickering across the grimy walls in the late afternoon dusk. The officer extended his hand, indicating for the men to relax, his eyes briefly checking their uniforms, the padded white jackets over their standard tunics, ‘Stand easy men…the General will be along shortly…’ He lowered himself to lean against the side table, another longer table along a long external wall supporting the three candles, the soldiers stood opposite.

  The senior officer glanced across the helmeted men, their eyes staring curiously at him as he spoke, ‘We will advance first thing tomorrow morning…you will accompany the forward wave and assist the frontal commanders with prisoners and interrogation.’ He glanced across the soldiers before him, their faces filled with grim determination, ‘We will drive through the Russian lines and isolate their units, destroying them one by one…then we will take the city and advance on Belgorod…’ The Major indicated to the maps strewn across the side table, ‘If more reinforcements are forthcoming from Army Group South and Centre we will continue the advance into the Russian rear, driving further eastwards…towards Kursk!’

  An orderly stepped into the room, his eyes glancing across the lined soldiers with surprise as the Major indicated to the table next to the maps, ‘Place the schnapps there…we will toast our forthcoming victory once the General has addressed these men…’ The soldier nodded obediently, slipping forward with the silver tray and depositing it on the oak surface, the shot glasses clinking against the bottle.

  The officer pushed himself from the table edge, his expression warming, ‘I am Major Kappel…and will be your superior during the forthcoming campaign. As I stated, you will work as translators and assist with the prisoners we take…it is unlikely that you will be involved in frontline fighting. It is important we gain information on the Russian reserves and plans before extending this offensive…you will be crucial to this.’ He stared intently at the soldiers, his eyes narrowing, ‘The units you will work with have been specifically chosen to gain information from the more ‘resistant’ of enemy soldiers and commissars, let them do their job whilst you collate the details. Report back to me once you have collective information that forms a picture, these will be escalated to the General and then Von Manstein himself…do you understand?’

  The five soldiers nodded obediently, their stances stiffening as they heard the squeal of boots outside, the General striding into the room, his head nodding as boots slammed together, the troopers standing to attention formally. He smiled with approval, saluting formally, the men staring straight ahead, ‘Good…I see you have arrived safely, the Russian shelling not having disturbed your journey…’ Grinning he walked to the table, lifting and examining the schnapps bottle, ‘You men have been chosen due to your successful exploits across the front…’ The General turned briefly, nodding his satisfaction, ‘Stand easy…come and have a drink…’ He indicated to their tightly tied padded overcoats, ‘Loosen your uniforms gentlemen, we are here to discuss the successful future advance, not for a parade…’

  The soldiers readily unbuttoned their white camouflaged jackets, the General pouring the clear liquid into a glass and swigging from it, his face straining as the strong alcohol swept across his pallet. Coughing briefly, he indicated for them to help themselves, ‘I need to know if I can be sure of your loyalty and commitment…’

  His eyes narrowed as the soldiers hesitated, then stiffened to attention once more, the older of the group nervously speaking with a heavy accent, ‘Herr General…we are loyal soldiers of the Reich. Have no doubt that we will extract any information required, no matter what methods we have to use on the captured Russian scum!’

  The senior officer nodded, a smile fleetingly crossing his face, ‘Good…very good…’ He slapped his thigh in enthusiasm, raising his glass abruptly, ‘My confidence is high gentlemen…I am sure you will do your duty for the Fatherland.’ He slammed the glass on the oak table surface, clicking his heel and raising his right hand rapidly, ‘Heil Hitler!’

  The five soldiers slammed their boots together, all raising their right hands in response, their barking voices resounding around the room, ‘Heil Hitler!’

  The Major was caught by surprise and hastily followed their actions, his face flushing as the General glanced at him disapprovingly, the more junior officer scrutinising the soldiers for any sign of amusement or disrespect, his lips curling slightly as he glimpsed the dark black collar badges beneath the open white padded jackets, the unit signs of a rear echelon Einsatzgruppen unit (killing squad).

  Chapter One: Late Evening Rendezvous

  Soldat Udet turned to Petru, his body shivering uncontrollably beneath the thin dishevelled greatcoat as he whispered, his teeth chattering, ‘W-will they come out soon? T-this cold is nearly as bad as Stalingrad!’ His grey eyes were bloodshot, frost whitening his eyebrows, his lip colour fading.

  Petru smiled grimly, his body also beginning to suffer from the intense temperature as he shook his head, ‘We will find out soon enough…now pull your scarf up over your mouth!’ The older Romanian glanced across the freezing expanse and through the snow laden trees in the failing light, the steel of their rifles glistening with frosting ice, their exhaled breath forming clouds around them.

  Further along to their right, Leutnant Hausser, Tatu and ‘Hase’ lay in the freezing snow, their great coated bodies concealed by the blanketed rise they hid behind, the track some fifty feet below through the thickly laden branches and down a gradual slope, a suspected partisan supply route. Between Hausser and Tatu, three soldiers shivered in the freezing temperature, their frosted helmets and heads lowered in abject misery in the biting cold as each man and teenager struggled with the ultimately bleak reality of the Russian Front.

  A low freezing fog crept through the lower forest, thin tentacles of mist gradually reaching across the track towards them as the temperature mercilessly dropped further. The surface ice glittered in the dim moonlight, Tatu turning to the new soldiers to hiss as he adjusted his dirt clad thick overcoat, ‘You follow our lead…all stay down until we move…understand?’

  The three soldiers turned to stare at him solemnly, their heads nodding in obedience as Tatu grimaced at their young faces, ‘Damn Russian cold…same as their women…follow us and you may survive!’

  Muted grins followed his remarks, the soldiers tugging the greatcoats around their necks and chins in futile attempts to sustain warmth, their gloved hands gripping the rifles before them. Tatu tutted softly, ‘Keep your weapons out of the snow…the firing pins have been known to snap if they get too cold…it started in the winter of 1941…’ He grinned in despondency, ‘All they are good for are ‘clubs’ then…and I will have the Leutnant move you to a front line penal unit!’

  Leutnant Hausser spun round, glaring at the Romania
n, his hissed voice causing the older man to stiffen, ‘Stop teasing them…they have only just joined us and one is very young!’

  Tatu grinned further at the rebuke, his eyes narrowing as he sensed an opportunity to raise the men’s spirits, ‘Jawohl, Herr Leutnant!’ He winked at the expectant younger troopers, whispering softly, ‘If you wish to be a good Wehrmacht soldier like myself, you must obey the Leutnant at all times…’

  Two of the soldiers grinned uncomfortably, the other’s eyes straining as Tatu sighed, shaking his head in response, ‘Erich…I am only joking! Just follow what we do, and keep safe…you are too young to die in this bitter hell…’ He sighed once more, slapping the young man’s shoulder, ‘Too many young men like you died in Stalingrad for you to join them here…keep alert and stay by me!’

  The blue eyed, blonde nineteen-year-old seemed comforted, his wide eyes softening, then becoming more serious as he wiped the frost from his eyebrows, his lips pursed against the bitter cold as he spoke innocently, ‘Yes Sergeant…I will follow you…’

  Tatu nodded slowly, his eyes scanning the young man, ‘Make sure you do…you may be strange, but you are my favourite...you will not die here if I can help it.’ He glanced across at the other two soldiers, seeing them shiver, ‘Too cold for you Italians, eh? Still your rations are better than ours if we ever see any of them again!’

  The two soldiers nodded grimly, clutching their rifles in response. Both had survived a crushing offensive in the previous month, the Italian unit surrounded and outnumbered nearly ten to one. Breaking out of the Russian encirclement and breakthrough on the Don Rover, the younger man had relied on his immediate superior for support, the two men fortunate to escape with their lives as many of their countrymen fell. Both speaking fluent German and some Russian, they had been selected to join the new small unit, much to their surprise as the other survivors were formed into rear security units.

  Hausser stiffened in irritation, turning to the new recruits with a hiss, ‘Ignore my sergeant’s fun…keep with us at all times and if you get separated, stay still until we find you…do not call out!’ He breathed heavily, ‘The forest is not fully under our control, so you may attract the attention of the Russkies…keep low if you are alone and we will come for you…understand?’

  Sergeant Moretti nodded obediently, his teeth chattering from the cold, iced flakes formed across his moustache and eyebrows, ‘Y-yes Herr Leutnant.’ He shifted uncomfortably, patting the nervous young infantryman’s shoulder next to him comfortingly, his voice a whisper, ‘Stay close Donatello…if I fall, stay near this Leutnant.’

  The young soldier grimaced, his emotions rising in determination as his face slowly turned, ‘You will not fall Sergeant…I have lost my brother and will not lose anyone else.’

  Tatu interjected raising his PPSH 41 machine gun, his hiss firm as he glared at them, ‘Sshhh! Someone is coming…and I am the damn sergeant here, not him!’

  Leutnant Hausser’s hand extended to the side, waving up and down below the line of the ridge, ‘Make ready…and do it quietly!’ Bolts were slowly and painfully pulled back in silence, heads lowering on top of their weapons to conceal exhaled breath as Hausser shifted slightly, his helmeted head pushing against a frosted tree trunk to stare down into the bitter cold.

  The creaking of wheels gradually began to spread across the frozen slope, the iced snow crunching beneath the weight of the cart as the Panje horse snorted loudly, the small beast struggling against the cold and tethered weight behind.

  Hausser’s eyes narrowed in strain through the low mist, the sounds getting nearer as he tensed, the grip on the MP40 machine gun tightening in anticipation. Gradually silhouettes came into view through the murk, a heavily padded figure leading the Panje horse, the cart behind and three figures to the rear, their hands carrying rifles as they glanced into the freezing gloom on either side nervously.

  The wooden wheels of the heavily laden cart crunched louder through the snow, heavy clouds of exhaled breath from both the small robust horse and the four figures hanging in the air above the track as they drew level with the soldiers above. Hausser slowly raised the MP40 to his right eye, aiming towards the three rear padded riflemen, his breath held as he bit his lower lip, realising there was a young woman amongst them, the three shuffling other figures men and a lot older judging from their hunched silhouettes and struggled steps.

  Hausser drew a reluctant breath, gasping in reaction to the cold air, his voice rising as he called out in Russian, ‘Drop your weapons and raise your arms…a German company has you surrounded…resist and we shoot you all!’ He stifled a cough, ducking his head back, the bitter air biting in his throat as he glanced up again, the figures below struggling to lower to a crouch as the Panje horse snorted loudly, their weapons raised and jerking to either side frantically. He grimaced at their clear resolve and determination, clearing his throat again loudly, ‘Drop your rifles now or we fire…you will all die this night!’

  Slowly and reluctantly the rifles were tossed into the iced snow, shivering hands rising with determined resistance, hatred filling the eyes of the subdued as clouds of frustrated exhaled breath drifted from their mouths. Hausser turned his head, the other soldiers squinting down their sights as he hissed, ‘Tatu, Udet…with me, the rest cover them! Move to the sides so the rest have a clear shot!’

  The figures below glanced upwards as three silhouettes appeared above, their greatcoats covered in iced snow as they stepped gingerly down the slope, their boots crunching beneath. The frosted steel helmets glittered in the failing light, clouds of exhaled breath sweeping around the figures as they cautiously held their weapons before them, the mist seeming to thicken as they descended.

  Hausser glanced across the stationery figures below, their eyes seeming to stare at him in utter contempt, his breathing laboured as he struggled down the iced slope. Udet slipped, his heart pounding as he dug the heels of his great boots into the ice, a hand grasping an outstretched branch to steady his footing, his rifle barrel shaking as one of the figures below grinned mockingly at his clumsy nervousness.

  Reaching the track, Hausser raised his MP40 more menacingly, gesturing with the barrel for the figures to move to the side, Tatu pushing his PPSH 41 before him, his expression grim. The dishevelled animal hide clad figures shuffled to the edge of the track, their eyes fixed on the weapons pointed at them, the Panje horse snorting once more in the freezing mist as it glanced round, beady eyes staring at the snow covered greatcoats through heavy insulating matted hair.

  The young officer grimaced as one of the men spat into the snow before him, his voice low, ‘Udet, search the back of the cart…’ He turned to the nearest Russian, ‘Where are you going?’

  Udet shuffled through the snow, reaching the back of the ram shackled cart and leaning forward. His gloved hand stretching for the heaped worn sack cloth and belongings. Tatu moved behind him, covering the small group on the opposite side of Hausser, his eyes widening as he stared menacingly at the three older men, ‘The officer asked you a question…’

  The three bearded men and young woman stared defiantly at him, contempt in their eyes as he spoke again, ‘He asked you where you are going…it is cold and we are stopping all on this track.’ His hands tightened on the PPSH machine gun as one of the men pushed the young woman slightly behind him, her blue eyes sparkling in the fading light.

  Tatu stared at them in irritation, seeing the men were probably in their fifties and sixties, their grey hair and blank weather beaten bearded expressions solemn. Hausser speaking again, ‘Very well…if you won’t talk, we will take you back to our garrison for interrogation…’

  The seemingly older man grinned incredulously, shaking his head, his daughter shivering behind him, ‘You Germans are so arrogant…killing and murdering our people and expecting us all to still submit to your wishes…’ He spat onto the snow again, staring into Hausser’s eyes, ‘You have lost the war and you seek vengeance on our people for your incompetence…’ He glan
ced across at Udet, the young soldier moving the sacking aside and inspecting the grain and food beneath.

  Hausser’s eyes widened, then narrowed in irritation, impressed by the man’s resolve, ‘So, where are you going and why the rifles?’

  The man stared back at him, ‘There are bandits and hungry wolves in these woods…my daughter is a young woman and pretty…we need to protect our food and belongings, and her!’

  The young officer nodded solemnly, glancing at the rifles in the snow, ‘They are Russian Mosin Nagant military rifles…how did you come to have them?’

  The man shrugged, his daughter’s hand on his shoulder as she glanced at the German uniforms, ‘With the hell your army has brought to our country, you can find rifles and ammunition anywhere…even taking them from the many fallen souls…’

  Hausser nodded in grim understanding, his eyes moving to Udet, ‘Anything?’

  The young soldier shook his head, ‘Nichts, Herr Leutnant…’

  The young woman spoke, startling the soldiers, her father stiffening, ‘You should leave…’

  Leutnant Hausser’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, ‘Why is that?’

  Her blue eyes sparkled again as she stepped from behind her father, the animal hides obviously hiding a curvaceous and attractive figure, unkempt blonde hair just visible below the felt cap, ‘There are not many of you…I can tell not a company…perhaps only a squad?’ She grinned as she saw the young officer’s eyes widen further in intrigue and satisfaction as he glanced across her frame, Udet staring at her, his cheeks flushing slightly, ‘You are not as evil as some of the others…your units with black collars…’