Kuehn smiled tightly. “I remember issuing the same orders to British Tommies in the early days of the last war.”
The German wheeled and returned to the village. A short while later, the ruins began to disgorge large numbers of his fellow Volkssturm. They obeyed orders and were unarmed, some were even laughing. Their hands were clasped neatly on their heads. Many were wounded, but even they managed to smile at the Americans. Their war was over and they appeared damned glad to be out of it.
“Surrender becomes you,” Levin said. “Your men seem pleased.”
Kuehn shrugged. “Better you than the Russians and better surrendering than fighting to the death for no reason whatsoever. It was the only sensible thing to do. Other than old rifles and Panzerfausts, we had nothing to fight you with. The swine who command us also forgot food and water, and medical facilities. We are here as cannon fodder to try to delay you and I will not have my men slaughtered. It may make sense militarily, but the war is over and our deaths would only delay the inevitable.”
“Good to hear,” said Morgan who had reached the two men.
The long column of German prisoners had begun to wind its way to the rear. At least none of these would be murdered. There were just too damn many of them. There really is safety in numbers, Jack thought. The farther they walked through the American lines, the more relaxed the Germans became, smiling, nodding and even trying out their English on their captors. Whiteside gave orders to collect their weapons, especially the panzerfausts. He thought they might just come in handy.
“Do other Volkssturm units feel as you do?” Jack asked the German major.
Kuehn happily lit a cigarette offered by Levin. “I would say so, although it might depend on each one’s unique situation. Most of the soldiers you are facing here on the west of the Rhine are either miserably armed Volkssturm like us or fanatic SS assholes. The regular army has pretty well departed across the river to man the Rhine Wall.”
Jack nodded. The Germans were gone? This information will go upwards real fast, he thought. “Were you a Nazi?”
Kuehn smiled. “Of course, and I still am. Did you expect me to be a lying hypocrite like so many of my countrymen have become? After the disaster of the First World War and the Weimar Republic, I thought Hitler was great man who would bring Germany back to life and her rightful place in the world. I never thought he would bring us so much death and so many murders. Had he stopped with Austria and Czechoslovakia, or even Norway and Poland, Germany and the world would be a better place.”
“And what about the Jews?” Levin asked quietly.
“I truly thought they’d be deported, not murdered.”
Was this an honest man, Morgan thought, or just another lying kraut trying to rationalize what he’d done? And did it matter? He’d just surrendered a regiment and saved a number of American lives by doing so. “And what did you do in civilian life?”
“For whatever it’s worth, I was a baker. My shop was destroyed by bombers. My family was in it at the time. My wife and two children were killed. There’s been enough killing, Captain, enough. I’ve had enough war. I surrender.”
Stoddard heard the last part and asked Levin if Kuehn thought other Volkssturm units were as disgusted as his, and whether he could get them to surrender as well.
Kuehn blinked in surprise. “I suppose I could. My God, it would save lives wouldn’t it? Yes, tell your superiors I will do my best.”
CHAPTER 16
Alfie Swann thought it would be hard enough for one man to survive a German winter, especially if that one man wore a British uniform and didn’t speak German. His only hope had been to find a place where he would be out of the wind and cold and then steal food from wherever he could. As plans went, it truly stank, but he couldn’t think of another one.
But then he met the two Jews and his troubles had more than tripled. There was no way in hell he could simply turn them loose to be picked up by the Gestapo and sent to a death camp. After talking with the two men, he now firmly believed in the Reich’s horrors. No, the two Jews were now his responsibility, and he would do his best for them.
The trick, he decided, was to look inconspicuous. Thus, he had to steal clothes to replace both their rags and his uniform. Then he had to acquire enough food so they didn’t look like death warmed over. All right, he thought, it could all be done, but where would they stay and not freeze to death in the coming months? There was no reason to think that the Americans or his own savaged British army would be coming by to save them anytime soon. Nor was there any real likelihood of their getting to the west bank of the Rhine under the guns of both sides. Ergo, they would plan for the long haul. Bloody hell, he’d never had to plan anything before. He was in the army and the army did all the thinking and planning he’d ever needed. What was the saying? Yeah, if the army wanted you to think they would have issued you brains.
“A cave would be nice,” Aaron said. “With enough insulation from trees, grass, and even rags, we can keep the place reasonably snug. With only a little luck, we’d survive.”
“Are there caves in Germany?” Alfie asked.
Saul laughed. “The land here is hilly and sometimes rocky. I rather think we could find a niche in some escarpment and keep ourselves alive.”
Alfie shook his head. What the hell was a niche and what the bloody hell was an escarpment, and who the hell said these two guys couldn’t speak English very well? But maybe they could find something livable in a land that was surprisingly heavily forested.
“Can you find us something like that?”
Saul answered. “We used to explore caves for amusement and sometimes we actually found ones that nobody knew existed. It was great adventure. I know we don’t look like much, Alfie, but we always liked to go camping and what some people called roughing it. We may even know more than you do about survival in the wilderness.”
Indeed, Alfie thought. “Then let’s go find ourselves a fucking cave. Jesus Christ, does this make me a cave man?”
Eisenhower riffled through the stack of glossy photographs. He was impressed by their detail and clarity. They all pointed out that what they’d suspected was the dismal truth. The German army was indeed evacuating the Rhineland and moving into the massive fortifications they’d built in depth on the east bank of the Rhine. Lieutenant General James Doolittle, commanding the Eighth Air Force, was present as was Lieutenant General Omar Bradley. The Royal Air Force’s bomber command was not represented, nor were the Allies’ navies.
Any crossing of the Rhine would be made by Bradley’s massive 12th Army Group and by either Hodges’ First Army or Patton’s Third Army. The demoralized British to the north would have the very wide Rhine delta to cross, while Devers’ 6th Army was too small and, being south, was in rugged terrain that more resembled the Swiss Alps than anything German.
Ike turned to Doolittle and pointed to the pictures of the forts. “These things have to be destroyed. These fortifications are a hundred times more formidable then what we faced at Normandy.”
Doolittle was clearly uncomfortable. “Sir, you know that both America’s and England’s bomber command’s priorities are Germany’s factories and war-making potential. It’s the opinion of both commands that every bomber taken from attacking those targets will prolong the war. If we can stop their ability to produce weapons and fuel, the German military machine will grind to a halt.”
“Indeed,” Ike said dryly, “but it will grind to a halt with us on one side of the Rhine and the Germans safely on the other. Jimmy, the only way to do it is the old fashioned one-we have to dig them out because, no matter what, we will still have to cross that damned river in order to end this war. Unless your bombers pay greater attention to these defenses, our casualties will be horrendous.”