Dale wondered if the listening post would even detect them. There were four listening posts reporting back to the battalion, but, at night and from this direction, Dale figured there may be no warning from the post.
Tom huddled up real close to Dale and whispered in a concerned voice, “Looks like every third one has a night scope. They could see us. More importantly, they can see the Battalion.”
“Their night scopes cancel out the advantage our troops have by being dug in,” Dale warned.
“Our troops will be firing blindly into the night while the Krauts pick ‘em off,” Adam said, shaking his head in concern.
“What can we do?” Tom asked.
“How many are there?” Dale asked Tom.
“Eighty, maybe 90. Looks like a couple dozen have night vision,” Tom shrugged, as he assessed the enemy through the Vampire scope.
“Twelve against 90; we would just slow them down. It would alert the Battalion, and at least they would not get hit by a surprise attack,” Dale said.
“Now look whose gunning for the medal of honor,” Steve said.
“What if we circled in behind them and followed them back to camp? The last thing they would be expecting is an attack from behind,” Dale proposed.
“While they are busy attacking the battalion, we will hit them from the rear. They will never expect it; hell, may not even realize from where they are being shot,” Adam said with a smile creeping across his face.
“I may even get me one of those fancy German storm rifles, Vampire scope and all,” Steve said.
As the last group of Germans were slowly creeping past, a loud explosion was heard about 50 yards back down the trail. A group of Germans, not 15 yards away, dropped to their knees and took cover behind some trees. They were not looking at the four men. They were staring down the trail to where the explosion was heard.
“What in the hell was that?” Muttered Adam, who was now lying on his stomach, beside Dale.
“Sounds like someone stepped on a land mine,” Steve replied.
“I hope it’s not one of ours,” Adam said.
Just then, the sound of numerous machine guns firing broke the quiet night air. Dale could see sporadic muzzle flashes down the trail, near the place where he assumed the rest of his squad would be hiding.
“Shit. Must have been one of ours,” Dale fretted. There was no sense in whispering now. The machine gun fire would prevent the Germans from hearing him.
“Look, there are six Krauts directly in front of us. We could take them out before they even knew what hit them,” said Adam as he switched the safety off his BAR.
“Let’s do it,” said Tom as he lined up his newly acquired storm rifle on the German in the foremost position.
“Okay, our cover is blown. New mission is to support the battalion against this night raid, but hold your fire. Tom, you take those four Krauts,” Dale said pointing to the ones furthest up the trail.
“Steve, you take the ones heading up the rear. Adam and I will deal with the ones in the middle, got it?”
“Got it,” they all agreed.
Dale gave the hand signal and they stood from their crouching positions and opened fire on the unsuspecting Germans.
Five of the 10 Germans fell immediately. The remaining five took cover by diving behind trees, as their friends lie on the ground, bleeding to death. In a split second, the Germans realized where the Americans were and returned fire.
Tom, kneeling behind a large tree, took aim through the Vampire scope at the closest German, who apparently thought he was hidden behind a tree. The German was wrong. Tom’s shot caught him just under the chin, and he fell back, grabbing at his neck, trying to stop the flow of blood.
At this point, the Germans must have realized the Americans had at least one-night scope, as they began to fall back. Dale surmised that his men had just saved the Battalion from a bloody night raid, as 20 more Germans materialized out of the night. The German reinforcements were still seventy-five yards up the trail, but they were moving fast. The Germans now severely outnumber the squad and were beginning to form a crescent shaped semi-circle around them.
“We got to get out of here fast before they completely surround us,” Adam yelled at Dale, as he slid another boxy magazine into his BAR.
“We have to run, now,” shouted Tom, over the roar of automatic gun fire.
“Retreat!” Dale shouted. The four turned and ran through the forest trying to escape the Germans. Dale could hear bullets whiz by his head and slam into the trees around him. They were running up the ridge, toward the trail with the steep cliffs at their backs, when Dale, in the lead, stepped into - nothing.
Dale was shocked, at first. Why had his foot not found land? Then, he was falling. He heard Adam behind him.
“Whoa,” Adam called out, as he stumbled over the edge of the pit into the total darkness. Dale had no warning of the gaping hole and went in face first. Adam, a fraction of a second behind him, saw the hole but was unable to stop.
In the split-second Dale had while falling, he wondered if there were spikes at the bottom of the hole. Would he be impaled and left to bleed to death in this cold, dark place, or would a merciful German dispatch him quickly with a bullet to the brain? Dale Matthews did not have long to ponder his fate; he slammed into the ground face first with a dull thud.
A fraction of a second later, Adam came tumbling down and partially landed on him. Well, at least there were no spikes. But instead of the dirt, mud, and roots as he was expecting, his face was pressed against cold, hard concrete.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Adam rolled off Dale, “Are you alright?”
“I think so,” Dale coughed out, as he turned over and pulled himself up.
His eyes started to adjust to the darkness into which they had just fallen. Only, it wasn’t a hole; it was a tunnel. A long concrete tunnel with no electric lighting.
“You two alright down there?” Tom’s voice called down. Dale could see that Tom was about seven feet above him, peering through what appeared to be a small section of the tunnel that had sustained a direct artillery impact. Normally, a direct hit would not have collapsed a tunnel, but Dale figured it may have been due to a bad batch of concrete.
“Yeah, we’re okay. Do the Germans know your position?” Dale asked.
“Negative. They are still 30 yards back in the brush, but approaching quickly.”
“Get down here; we can hideout down here,” Dale said.
Dale and Adam helped Tom and Steve descend into the tunnel. The hole Matthews had stepped through was only about four feet in diameter. In the dark, it would be hard to spot. If he had not fallen into the hole, they could have run past the opening without having seen it.
All four men were standing in the drafty tunnel, looking up into the dreary night. Surprisingly, the tunnel was slightly warm and dry. They positioned themselves away from the opening at the top of the tunnel and waited, hoping that the Germans would not see them. The German boots made crunching sounds in the snow above, as they canvassed the area, seemingly unaware of the tunnel below. The four men were safe, for the moment.
“Let’s take five,” Dale said. The men leaned up against the concrete walls that arched up toward the curved ceiling. All four men checked their magazines and did a bullet count.