Crusader (A Novel of WWII Tank Warfare), Jack Murray [top romance novels .txt] 📗
- Author: Jack Murray
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‘Sir, we found these men. More stragglers. They came from thesouth east,’ said the corporal.
The captain stood up. He seemed about a foot shorter than theboys. Manfred wondered idly about the inverse relationship between height andseniority. The walk and the evident fact they’d survived had made him feellight-headed. This realisation woke him up. The last thing he wanted to do wasto collapse but my God he felt like it. He could feel his legs stiffening withevery passing second of the wholly gratuitous inspection.
‘What happened?’
Thankfully, Fischer had also woken up to the seriousness of theirsituation. He began to speak. Fischer summarised with great clarity the eventsof the previous day. This unquestionably tallied with what was known. Thecaptain nodded and turned to the corporal.
‘Get these men in a car and back to their Panzer group, CorporalHuber. Actually, no. Feed them first.’
Neither Manfred nor Fischer said anything. Their eyes remaineddirectly ahead. But Manfred could have cheered the little captain at thatmoment. They were dismissed. The corporal led them out of the bivouac. Manfredexchanged a glance with Fischer and Kohler. Fischer’s face was a mask hidinghis exhaustion. Kohler looked like a wreck, but they were back. They werealive. Old rules would apply, perhaps.
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Forty minutes later, with darkness falling rapidly, the threefound themselves in a jeep heading towards the tank leaguer just south of hill175, a natural defence to the east of Sidi Rezegh airfield. The corporal who’dfound them was their driver. His initial suspicion had long since disappeared. Likethem, he was tired, determined to get things over quickly and return home inone piece.
‘You wouldn’t catch me in one of those death traps,’ said Huber.
The boys laughed. Manfred replied, ‘Safer than being in the open.You could get killed out there.’
It was Huber’s turn to laugh. In fact, the four of them werelaughing as they drove near the leaguer. They were stopped at the perimeter andthen ordered to drive to the tent of Major Fenski.
Huber pulled up outside and the three boys followed him into thetent. Fenski was studying a map with a number of senior officers includingLieutenant Basler. The corporal handed Fenski a note from the captain. Basler,however, spoke up at this point.
‘I recognise these boys. They were in Overath’s tank,’ said Basler.He walked over to the three boys and studied them. He could see they wereexhausted, sun burned and caked with dust.
‘Had a nice stroll in the sun, then?’ asked the lieutenant walkingforward, fixing them with a stare.
Manfred and Fischer looked to one another while Kohler staredfixedly ahead. There wasn’t really an answer to this, so they treated thequestion as rhetorical. Unaccountably, Manfred felt nervous. Was there apossibility they would interpret their presence as a failed attempt atdesertion? With the SS one never knew.
‘Just you three? There were no other survivors?’ continued Basler.
Manfred shook his head and briefly explained what had happened.
‘The South Africans took me to their brigade camp a few kilometresaway. They questioned me. I said nothing. I sensed they were not going totorture me. Then they took me away from the camp and dropped me a kilometreaway from where they’d picked me up.’
Basler smiled grimly. He switched his gaze to Fenski and said, ‘Itsounds as if these boys missed an opportunity to get out of all this.’
Fenski smiled, ‘Well, there’s no doubt about their bravery andtheir patriotism. I’m not so sure it reflects well on his intelligence.’
The other officers dutifully laughed at this. Manfred looked atthe group and felt appalled. Among those laughing were men who’d sanctioned thepatrol. A patrol that took over twenty tanks out of the safety of the anti-tankgun screen, within range of the enemy guns. And for what? Manfred’s face wasset in stone. Anger uncorked a well of adrenaline through his body. The facesof Overath and Kastner swam into view. The men in the other tanks; allsacrificed needlessly.
For the first time Manfred felt a seed of doubt. Not about thejustness of their cause. That much was clear to him. No, this was aboutleadership. Rommel was exceptional. The Afrika Korps was exceptional. Theirtraining. Their equipment. All superior. However, Manfred was less sure thatthese fools were capable of delivering the victory that their many advantageswarranted.
Basler, at least, seemed unamused. He motioned for them to followhim. On their way to the tanks Basler questioned them on the events ofyesterday and their trek back to the camp. The questions were precise andpushed Manfred for more detail on the South Africans. Manfred was unable to saymuch.
‘They didn’t give me a guided tour,’ replied Manfred. Baslerstopped and shot Manfred a glance. Manfred realised what he’d said and his facereddened. ‘Sorry, sir, what I meant was…’
Basler shook his head and began to walk forward again, the othersstruggled to keep up; the effect of their long march was now catching up onthem. As they walked forward through the leaguer, they saw the other tank crewslooking at them. It was clear what had happened to them. A few came over to sayhello. Then Manfred saw his friend, Gerhardt. Had Manfred not felt so sore bythis stage he’d have laughed when he saw his friend’s mouth fall open.
Then Gerhardt jogged over to them. They shook hands. Anything morewould have been as unseemly in this context as it would have given rise toendless mockery. Manfred was just as relieved, in fact, to see his friend wasstill alive.
‘We thought you were goners,’ admitted Gerhardt, a few minuteslater.
Manfred shook his head. The events of the last twenty-four hoursand his fatigue were beginning to tell on his emotions.
‘We were lucky,’ admitted Manfred. ‘I was lucky. Had Fischer andKohler not dragged me out of the tank, I’d be dead now. What did I miss, then?’
‘When the other tanks returned, we went back along the valleytowards the escarpment south of Sidi Rezegh. So we were north west of you. Wegot involved with the
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