The admiral held out his hand. In a bemused fashion, Kaltenbrunner took it, and the two commanders shook.
“History,” Gunther whispered to himself. I was there and I even said a word or two.
Gunther wanted to caw with laughter. He felt so relieved to be alive. He had just survived a nuclear attack against the fleet. It was the first nuclear naval attack in history, and now, they were going to make the Americans pay for attempting it.
-13-
Annihilation
From Military History: Past to Present, by Vance Holbrook:
2040, July 16-18. Invasion New York. In Southwestern Ontario between Windsor and London, the two forces were locked in bleak, attritional warfare. The Americans used blood, artillery and extensive jamming to whittle down GD Army Group A. Holk staved off the increasingly heavy push in the south as he battered his way east into the Niagara Peninsula. US Fifth Army vainly tried to stave off Holk’s attack as Zeller’s two corps attempted to shut the door at Buffalo. It had become a wrestling match as the Fifth Army paid in blood to extricate itself out of Buffalo and fight its way south toward Pennsylvania.
Meanwhile, US XI Airmobile Corps and the first smattering of Canadian troops fought savagely on the approaches to Syracuse. It proved a losing fight against GD Twelfth Army, but the American soldiers were buying their country time. Zeller asked Mansfeld for Kaisers and Leopard IV tanks in order to spearhead his assaults along the interstate.
On the high seas, General Kaltenbrunner’s GD Army Group D left Cuban ports and headed for the selected Atlantic invasion beaches of New York-New Jersey. The great trap neared completion…
Jake Higgins didn’t know anything about ICBMs or GD armadas. He was dirty, sore, bleeding across his left eye so he had to keep wiping it to clear of blood and he was hungry like a junkyard dog.
The enemy pounding had been going on for some time. He was in a basement with the others, with Charlie, Lee, the lieutenant and MDG Sergeant Dan Franks. There were others of the penal battalion, a pittance compared to their beginning numbers.
After the survival of no-man’s land, he and the others had retreated until they’d found the lieutenant. It had been a nightmare since then. The GD poured everything at Fifth Army, particularly the AI Kaisers and the dreaded Leopard IV tanks, together with air sweeps and missile bombardments.
They had fought their way to St. Catharines along the shore of Lake Ontario. The city burned, with oily fumes churning into the sky. Fifth Army was dying, and the penal battalions along with it.
The lieutenant had said something yesterday about those in Buffalo holding open a corridor long enough so the rest of the Fifth Army could escape the GD trap. It didn’t look as if they would be part of the escapees. This was reminding Jake more and more of Texas last summer.
As dawn rose to another brutal day, the rear guard in St. Catharines was supposed to fight its way free of the enemy and hurry for Buffalo. Yeah, that was a good joke.
Jake wiped blood out of his left eye and peered out of a basement window. A marauding Leopard tank clanked into view past piles of rubble. Behind the tank followed crouched-over GD infantrymen in their high-grade body armor.
“But sir,” Sergeant Franks was saying, “if we attack now, they’ll attack us. If they attack, they’re going to get help from the offshore artillery. They’ll demolish us down here. This will become our grave.”
The lieutenant stubbornly shook his head. “We’re fighting for our country, Sergeant. Maybe it means we’re going to die for our country, but that’s every soldier’s lot in war. Now set up the machine guns. We have to kill those infantry.”
Sergeant Franks bit his lower lip. Clearly, he didn’t like the order, but to disobey a direct command…
There wasn’t much difference now between the penal militiamen and their jailers. Everyone was in this together.
Franks bellowed and he pointed at militiamen, telling them to hurry.
Jake heaved, lifting the .50 caliber into position. Charlie helped him. Lee waited behind the weapon.
“Fire!” the lieutenant said, as he peered out his own window.
Jake glanced at the young man. There was a fanatical fire in the lieutenant’s eyes. These past days hadn’t diminished the man’s resolve, but hardened it. If he had to die fighting, so be it. The lieutenant clearly planned to kill Germans, as many as he could.
Lee pressed the butterfly triggers. The .50 caliber jackhammered its bullets at the enemy. Jake watched. The GD infantrymen had great body armor, but at this range, it meant nothing. They tumbled to the cement, some in a bloody spray.
The Leopard tank’s treads stopped churning far too fast. Its turret swiveled, the huge cannon swinging around toward their building.
“Get down!” Franks shouted.
Jake, Charlie, Lee, the lieutenant, everyone hit the tiled floor of the basement, taking their weapons with them.
A thunderous roar sounded from outside. A shell exploded inside the building on the first floor. That still had an effect down here. Masonry flew everywhere, raining in upside-down geysers. Militiamen fell as cement chunks struck them. A few disappeared, buried under rubble. Dust billowed. Militiamen choked, coughing with hacking sounds.
“Up, up, get up!” the lieutenant shouted.
From on the floor, Charlie and Jake exchanged glances. Their looks said, Is he a madman?
The lieutenant was close by and he might have seen their questioning looks. He drew his sidearm and aimed the pistol at Jake. “Lift the machine gun, Private. We have to attack. We have to hurt the invader while we can.”
“Yes, sir,” Jake said. The pistol aimed at his head didn’t bother him. Such things had happened too many times in the penal battalion. “We’ll do that exactly as you say, sir, but wouldn’t it be a whole lot better if I climbed the stairs and shot an RPG down on the tank turret? That will do more damage than bullets against the tank’s front armor.”
The lieutenant stared at him, with his eyes shining strangely. “Go!” he said. “Do it, and then get back down here.”
First wiping blood out of his left eye, Jake scrambled away from the window. Another thunderous roar from the tank heralded another HE shell. One of the reasons they fought from basements was because a tank’s cannon couldn’t depress far enough to directly fire at them. This 175mm shell blasted the floor above them. The concussion of it hurled Jake down as if someone had used a mallet. He lay on the floor panting.
How much longer can I keep doing this? He didn’t know. Part of him just wanted to lie down and quit. Yet if he did that, he would be dead or captured by the Germans. He shook his head. He was a Higgins. A Higgins never quit; he kept on fighting. Why not fight until you’re dead? Which ought to be pretty soon now.
With a groan, Jake climbed to his feet. He helped Charlie up and staggered to several RPGs. He grabbed one. Charlie grabbed another and Lee a third. Then they started for the ruin of the stairs.
“They’re going to run away on us, sir,” Sergeant Franks said.
The lieutenant didn’t even glance their way. He peered out the window. He now spoke in a loud whisper. “Put the machine gun back up,” he said. “The tank crew is thinking about it now. Let’s nail any Germans slinking behind the monster.”
Jake didn’t hear any more. He climbed over debris and made it to the first floor. If the Leopard crew decided to fire yet again, he was dead. He coughed because some of the drifting dust found its way into his throat. Then he dashed through the rubble-strewn area, heading for stairs leading higher. As he did, he wondered about running away. What did he owe those bastards down in the basement anyway? Not a whole heck of a lot, that’s for sure. But he didn’t run away. He wasn’t sure where he could run to. St. Catharines swarmed with enemy soldiers. As far as he could see, this was the end of the line.