“Roger that, Lieutenant; and thanks for the C-rats,” Dale added.
“Just find us a way off this mountain, Sergeant.”
“If there’s a way, I’ll find it,” Dale replied.
“All right men, finish up your chow, and we will be heading out,” Dale ordered as he scraped the last spoonful of cold stew at the bottom of the tin can. Normally, the men complained about C-rats, but tonight they tasted unusually good.
“What’s the plan?” asked Fred Perry, the youngest solider in the battalion, as he rubbed some newly grown peach fuzz on his chin. It had been said that he lied about his age to get into the Army.
“We continue up the trail, towards the German fortifications. We break into four-man groups, staying off the main trail. We’ll keep an eye out for any passage that would be suitable to bring the battalion down into the valley,” Dale said.
“Slow and easy,” Adam said, “We are outnumbered and out gunned; soon we will be sitting ducks.”
“If you see the enemy, do not engage. Only fire a weapon if you must. The goal is not to kill Krauts; it’s to find a path off this ridge for the whole battalion,” Dale reminded them.
“Is everyone ready? Anyone need to take a crap or piss? Now is the time to do it,” Matthews said to the huddled squad.
“Safeties on and watch where you step. These Krauts like mines,” Dale added, “last thing we need is one of us accidentally firing off a round.”
“Adam, you are with me,” he announced. “Tom and Steve, you are with me, as well. Everyone else, break into four-man teams.”
Steve Dyer had the only M-9 bazooka in the squad. The M-9, sometimes referred to as a “stove pipe,” was a rocket-propelled, anti-tank weapon that could also be used against an entrenched machine gun or armored vehicle. It had become less effective against German tanks since they upgraded their armor, but it was still somewhat effective at close range.
The men quietly advanced up the trail past the earthen fortifications. They passed the water-cooled, heavy machine gun that was set up behind logs and rocks. The machine gun fortification marked the end of their encampment; everything past that was German territory.
Dale stepped off the trail and into the woods. The goal was to find a path off the ridge. They were about 1000 feet off the valley floor, with steep cliffs and rugged terrain cascading to the village below them. If there was any hope of finding a passage down, they would have to travel as near as possible to the steep cliffs. It was one thing for a few men to travel in the woods at night, but moving almost 270 men in broad daylight was totally different. They needed a passable slope that offered cover from enemy fire. The only way they had held off the Germans superior numbers thus far was that they were entrenched.
The first thousand meters were easy, as expected, because the listening post had not reported any German activity in the last few hours. Dale did not know exactly where the listening post was, but he was sure they were about to pass it soon. He did not expect any communication from the post, as their job was to observe and report back to the battalion without exposing their position.
The air was cold, and the ground was soft from recent rains. The forest floor was thick with undergrowth. “This place needs a good fire to burn off some of this brush,” Matthews thought to himself. Dale Matthews, Adam Bond, Tom Brown and Steve Dyer reached the steep cliff and stopped to survey the ridge and valley below them.
The four men crouched behind an outcropping of rocks that overlooked the valley and town below. Tom Brown had found a StG44 “storm rifle,” on one of the dead German soldiers. The StG44 was an impressive assault rifle with select fire capabilities. It was accurate up to 300 meters in full auto and 600 meters in semi auto. However, that was not the most impressive feature of the weapon. It was outfitted with a rare ZG 1229 Vampire night vision scope. Most soldiers had never seen a night vision scope; some had heard of night vision, but none had used it. Earlier, Tom had spent several hours trying to figure out how to make it work.
Tom moved into position above the outcropped rocks and dropped to one knee. “I bet you’re glad I found this rifle.”
“Still, you went a little too far from the foxhole to get it; you could have been shot by a German sniper,” Dale said.
“Had I not risked it, we would not have this night vision scope,” Tom argued.
“Maybe they will give you the medal of honor,” Matthews said sarcastically.
“If we get off this mountain, it will be because I found the pass,” Tom remarked as he peered through the night vision scope on the top of the rifle. The fallen German had three magazines of 30 rounds to go with the rifle. They were a 7.92x33 round, a bit light for a sniper rifle, but highly effective at 200 meters.
“See anything?” Adam asked.
“No, just rocks and trees. It’s all steep terrain. Maybe we should keep moving,” Tom suggested.
The squad traveled slowly along the wooded ridge, carefully keeping an eye out for traps and land mines. Another 200 yards, and they stopped again. From behind a tree, Tom surveyed the steep cliffs ahead, looking for a good place for 270 men to descend a thousand feet to the valley. All he could see was steep cliffs and jagged rocks. That many men attempting to climb down at once would be easy targets for German snipers.
“Just going by what we have seen so far, I don’t think we are going to find a passage to the valley,” Tom complained.
“We’re not giving up that easily,” Dale whispered, “let’s keep going.” Dale had every intention of getting off this mountain alive; returning to the battalion without a solution was not an option.
“Wait,” Tom hissed, grabbing Dale’s shoulder and pulling him down. Tom handed the German StG44 to Dale. “Look there.”
Dale and the others lay on their bellies, weapons pointed into the dark. Dale stared through the Vampire scope. The gun was heavy and awkward; the scope was large and made the rifle difficult to wield, especially from lying on the ground. He repositioned himself to lean against a tree so he could support the weapon by propping his elbow against his knee. At first, he couldn’t see anything. It was out of focus. After giving it a minute to focus, trees, bushes, and rocks all came into view. He scanned the length of the steep cliff. He felt a gentle pushing on the barrel of the gun; it was Tom pointing the barrel in the direction of the Germans.
One, two, three, four Germans creeping along the ridge, mirroring their own actions. Except these Germans were heading toward them and the American battalion.
“I see four men. Two hundred yards out. They’re heading in this direction,” Dale whispered.
“If we had not stopped and used the night vision, we could have bumped into them in the dark,” Adam said, as he lifted his BAR into position, as if he could see them.
“Easy does it.” Dale waived at Adam to put the gun down. “We need to avoid these Krauts. They are not the mission.”
“The mission is a failure. We can’t go around them and we have not seen any evidence of a pass to the valley,” Tom objected.
“We can’t pass them, but they can pass us. Then we can continue,” Steve whispered from behind. “Or we could light’em up with this bad boy,” he said patting his M-9 bazooka.
Dale could almost see the gleam in Steve’s eyes as he said ‘light’em up.’
“No. Move off the ridge, twenty-five meters. Take cover; they won’t see us as they pass,” Dale ordered.
The squad slowly moved out of the Germans’ projected path and took cover in the thick underbrush. The other two groups, 50 and 100 yards back, took cover as well.
Dale was settled in behind a fallen tree as the Germans were passing between him and the ridge. Three Germans materialized out of the darkness 20 meters to his left. They were traveling north to south along the ridge, heading toward the Battalion’s encampment. Then, another five Germans materialized from the foggy darkness. The Germans were moving almost silently through the night, but there was not just eight of them, they kept coming, more and more.