Some brave Germans tried to jump on the tanks and fight their way in. A grenade exploding inside a tank would have been catastrophic. This was when the trucks earned their pay. Their light Browning Automatic Rifles swept enemy soldiers from the tanks’ hulls before the Germans could open the hatches and drop in a potato masher grenade. Finally, there were no Germans standing, although a number were crawling and limping away.
Patton paused and opened the hatch. Signalling wildly, he finally got the attention of most of his commanders. He counted noses. Thirty-eight of his mighty beasts remained. He presumed most of the missing had mechanical problems. Better, almost all of the trucks were still with him. The ropes and the slanted armor appeared to have worked.
What to do now? he pondered. The German attack was broken, but there were still many other Germans attacking the American trenches. He could turn to the right and his tanks could attack the German rear and get them between the proverbial rock and the hard place.
Or they could go left and slice into the main German Army’s rear and continue pushing the Krauts backward. A German artillery shell landed nearby and reminded him that one thing he couldn’t do was stay where he was.
Right or left, that was the question. Patton was confident that the fighting to his right would break up. American reinforcements were arriving and he intuitively felt that the German high-water mark had been reached. He could already see men leaving the German forward positions and running back across the corpse-littered field.
“Left,” he ordered, and then because it seemed so appropriate, “Charge!”
Not since the days of antiquity could a general see the entire battlefield. Neither the crown prince nor General Mackensen saw anything other than what was directly in front of them. Their position had been predicated on observing the massive, four-division attack on the American trenches and the decision to switch the focus of the fighting left them with nothing in view.
The two divisions that made up their reserves had marched out, veered right, and disappeared. The sounds of fighting came from both the front and the right. The prince and the general could do nothing but worry while maintaining a facade of aloof indifference. No thought was given to moving the headquarters. That would have taken too much time. The telephone and telegraph lines ended here.
An operator took a call. He turned to the two men, shock on his face. “Sir,” he said to the prince, “there is a report that our men are being attacked by metal monsters that are impervious to bullets and shells.”
“Rubbish,” snapped Mackensen. “Call other units and find out what the devil is going on.” He laughed nervously. “Has someone gotten drunk in the middle of a battle? Monsters? What next?”
The operator did as directed. Moments later, he clarified his report. “Sir, armored vehicles of a strange type along with armored trucks have struck the troops advancing on our right. Our men are suffering heavy casualties and are falling back in great disorder.”
Now it was time to move. Both men left the bunker and climbed to higher ground where they could see at least a good portion of the battlefield. They didn’t like what they saw.
Mackensen and Crown Prince Wilhelm watched in horror as the army was destroyed by a few dozen metal monsters. The pride of the German Army was fleeing in panic. While the actual numbers of dead and wounded would ultimately only amount to a couple of thousand at most, the wounds to the German Army’s morale and pride would be immense and long lasting. After all the time spent campaigning up California, victory was being denied them. His army was confused, defeated and half a world away from home.
And now the beasts were turning in Wilhelm’s direction. What to do? His army was in full flight.
“General Mackensen, I suggest we find a safer place to conduct the war.”
Mackensen was shocked, “A retreat?”
The prince sighed. “Yes, it certainly looks like that, doesn’t it? We shall pull back and regroup. Those iron beasts are mortal and should run out of gas sooner or later and need to be refueled. Perhaps they will even break down. Meanwhile, we will figure out how to defeat them. If necessary, we will retreat down the coast to Santa Cruz or even Monterey where Hipper’s fleet can protect us until we are reinforced and resupplied.”
Assuming, he thought bitterly, his army stopped running before it reached Los Angeles.
Then another horrible thought intruded. Admiral Hipper was in San Francisco Bay. The admiral’s grand attack had succeeded, but now the game had changed. The prince needed to ensure that the fleet was intact, or at least strong enough to fend off the American warships now prowling the Pacific. Hipper must remain strong to protect the army and ensure reinforcements and supplies made it safely.
The prince turned to an aide. “Send a message to Admiral Hipper and inform him of our, ah, tactical withdrawal. Tell him he must sortie out of San Francisco Bay as soon as possible lest his ships become trapped.”
A most disconsolate Mackensen looked at him, “And what about Hutier?”
The prince sat down heavily as aides packed up their infernal papers. The American land monsters were coming closer with every minute. He could see someone standing with his head and shoulders out of a turret, giving directions. Why didn’t someone shoot him? But no, the insane fool led a charmed life.
It was time to go, time to retreat and time to fight another day. But what if Hutier did succeed? Then San Francisco would be theirs and the hell with the metal monsters chewing up the German Army. There was still a chance. It San Francisco was truly taken, there was no need for this days’ defeat by the metal monsters to be fatal.
“We will pray for Hutier’s success.”
CHAPTER 24
Barricades had been thrown up across the streets leading south towards where the Germans had penetrated. The barricades were made up of cars, trucks, and wagons that had been tilted on their sides. Furniture had been added and stuffed in to make a wall maybe ten feet high. Where possible, soldiers had taken up flanking positions. The ad hoc defenses had been skillfully laid. The only problems were the lack of manpower and firepower. The headquarters had been stripped of all army and navy personnel and a number of civilians and retreating soldiers had joined the force. General Liggett estimated that he had perhaps a thousand men.
The main German force was coming up 40th Avenue, a straight road that led directly to the U.S. Military Preserve and the Golden Gate Cemetery. Before that, however, was the Golden Gate Park, and it was at the southern end of the park that the barricades were put up.
Liggett had taken direct command and decided they would try to funnel the German advance down the streets, rather than giving them a chance to fan out in the park and use their firepower and numbers to advantage. So far, it had worked, but because only a relatively few Germans had made it that far. Several Germans had been killed or wounded by the initial burst of fire. The wounded had been picked up by German soldiers under flag of truce. Now all the American defenders could do was wait for the Germans to get organized and launch a real assault.
A forward scout scrambled back from his position a few blocks in advance of the barricades. “They’re forming up, General, and it looks like at least a full regiment, maybe more. They’ll be coming down this street in a few minutes.”