But not as big a lump as came next.
“Parade… parade… attention!”
The clash of hands and weapons was almost gunshot perfect.
“Parade… parade… on my command… now!”
Five thousand throats gave voice to thirteen words.
“Mon Général! Legio patria nostra. Honneur et Fidélité! Nous sommes à vos ordres!”
Knocke sprang onto the Krupp and stood on the back, and offered his own tribute to the men who had decided to follow him.
Saluting in all directions, he tried as best he could to keep moisture from his eyes, but failed.
‘What men these are… what wonderful men…’
“Parade… parade… left… turn!”
The men turned as ordered and drumbeats rose from a previously unseen group of musicians.
“Parade… parade… by the front… march!”
The drum marked the slow steady beat of the Legion march.
The first echelon started to move off the field but Haefali had not finished with them yet.
“Parade… parade… Le Boudin!”
The classic legion marching song sprang from five thousand lips, and Knocke’s joy was complete, his pride at the men under his command never greater than this moment.
…Tiens, voilà du boudin, voilà du boudin, voilà du boudin
Pour les Alsaciens, les Suisses et les Lorrains.
Pour les Belges y en a plus.
Pour les Belges y en a plus.
Ce sont des tireurs au cul.
Pour les Belges y en a plus.
Pour les Belges y en a plus.
Ce sont des tireurs au cul…
Knocke shook Haefali’s hand
“Thank you, Albrecht. That was well done… very well done indeed.”
“Not my idea, mon General. A deputation came to me in the late hours. The men were very insistent. They worked it out themselves and just wanted you to understand that they’ll follow you to the gates of hell… and through if necessary.”
They shook hands slowly and with meaning.
“The trust and comradeship of men… it’s a wonderful thing, Albrecht… a privilege that men give to their commanders… but it’s also a huge burden… as you already know. At least Camerone is safe… let’s hope that the other units have been equally fortunate.”
Unfortunately for the Legion Corps, the number of returnees in the other formations was far greater
De Lattre’s subsequent meeting with the Corps hierarchy quickly established that a reorganisation was necessary, a reorganisation that meant that the Corps D’Assaut was greatly reduced.
To add insult to injury, the reduction was accompanied by orders that requisitioned some of the French-built Panthers, reducing the Corps even further, although a subsequent delivery of brand-new Schwarzpanthers and Schwarzjagdpanthers was made direct from German factories as part of an agreement between the two nations.
They were remarkable weapons of war, but simply not enough.
In order to bolster the weakened Corps materiel, men on ‘leave’ were dispatched to all corners of Allied Europe in search of anything that could be used, should the battle be rejoined.
Camerone was the only formation of any size but more resembled a reinforced brigade in reality, until Tannenberg was absorbed into its ranks.
The other legion units were formed into small all-arms brigades that came under the control of the Alma Division.
Both units came under the command of the Legion Corps D’Assaut, to which Lavalle was appointed as commander.
The 1er Division D’Infanterie became part of the Corps by De Lattre’s direct intervention, thus bringing all Legion units in Europe under one unified command.
Chapter 179 – THE REUNION
There is some good in the worst of us and some evil in the best of us. When we discover this, we are less prone to hate our enemies.
1148 hrs, Thursday, 7th November 1946. Headquarters of Camerone Division, Kuttenberg, Bohemia, Czechoslovakia.
Ahron Mandl accepted Knocke’s outstretched hand.
“Thank you, Herr Knocke, thank you.”
“I wish you luck on your journey home, Herr Mandl.”
Knocke turned and picked up the bottle provided by Hässelbach.
“For you, courtesy of my supplies officer.”
“Again, thank you, Herr Knocke. I wonder if I could ask a favour before I go?”
“Of course.”
“Could you please take this letter for me? I’m sure the army system will be more effective than anything civilian authorities have developed. I’ve started another which I’ll send by different means… or maybe from home.”
Knocke accepted the letter and made a cursory examination of the address.
“Your father?”
“Son… my father… well…he is gone… this is for my son.”
“I understand. Biarritz though?”
“He was a child when we placed him with friends… to avoid the inevitable… you understand.”
“A wise precaution, Herr Mandl.”
Knocke slipped into a more formal mode.
“The transport officer has orders to take you to Prag. These are rail orders for you as far as Carlsbad. This is a safe passage order signed by myself. I regret, the journey from Carlsbad to your home is one I cannot guarantee.”
“Pechöfen’s not so far. I’m used to walking… and am stronger now, thanks to your doctors… and you, of course.”
“Best of luck to you, and I hope you find your son.”
“Thank you, Herr Knocke.”
[Carlsbad, Kuttenberg, Pechöfen, and Prag are modern-day Karlovy Vary, Kutná Hora, Smolné Pece, and Prague respectively.]
1150 hrs, Sunday, 10th November 1946, office of the Commander [Special Projects], Moscow Military District Mechanised Units Directorate, Arbat District. Moscow, USSR.
The secretary looked him up and down with something approaching disdain.
“Your orders.”
She held out an imperious hand that Kriks filled with his documentation.
“Ah, Praporschik Kriks.”
The woman almost melted and became a different and decidedly more receptive person before his eyes.
From harridan to courtesan in an instant.
“The General instructed that you were to be shown in straight away, Comrade Kriks.”
She rose from behind the desk and moved to the ornately carved door, knocking and opening it all in one easy movement.
“Comrade General, Praporschik Kriks is here.”
She beckoned the bewildered NCO forward and into the General’s office.
Kriks had been plucked from his position in the 1st Guards Rifle Division and summoned to whatever he had just been summoned to without a say in the matter, and he was mystified and angry in equal measure.
Both feelings evaporated in an instant.
“Thank you, Comrade Leytenant. That will be all… and please see that we are not disturbed.”
“Yes, sir.”
She closed the door as the office suddenly exploded into laughter and the sounds of friends reunited.
The telephone rang.
“Mayor General Yarishlov’s office… I’m afraid the General cannot be disturbed at the moment, Comrade Polkovnik… he left precise instructions… certainly… most certainly… I’ll make sure of it, Comrade Polkovnik.”