Smith stood up, leaning on the fence. He shouted to the nearest group that was approaching from their left flank.
“Hey, what do you want?” There was no response.
Captain Scott joined in, “Parlez-vous anglais?” There was still no reply.
Scott asked Harvey, “Do you speak German?” the officer nodded, “A little.”
Lieutenant Harvey stood and shouted in the best German he could manage. “Sprechen sie Englisch?” Again silence then a few seconds later came more wailing and groaning.
“Enough of this,” called Smith, “anybody got a flare?”
One of the soldiers acknowledged and fired a shot into the sky. It lit with a flash and suddenly the field and the group of men became clear.
“Fuck me!” called out one of the privates.
The nearest group were soldiers, though their clothing and equipment was bedraggled and filthy. None of them seemed to be carrying weapons in any meaningful way. Worst of all though, was that they all seemed to have sustained injuries of some kind. Some were missing limbs, others had gaping wounds in their chests or throats. All of them had substantial amounts of blood around their open mouths. A few shots rang out as Wilks and Harris fired instinctively at the closest. Captain Scott called out for them to cease fire but it was unnecessary as they had already stopped from the horror of what happened next. The first two men had been knocked to the ground, both felled by good shots to the body. However they simply lifted themselves up and continued on. Sergeant Smith looked to Lieutenant Harvey for confirmation, he gave the nod. Without hesitation Smith called out, “Open fire!”
The previously quiet area was shattered by the collective fire of over a dozen men armed with rifles, submachine guns and machineguns. The group continued their slow march, now only thirty or so feet away. At this range they were shredded, body parts ripped apart, heads cut clean off and blood and gore spraying all around. The Allied soldiers formed themselves into a very loose ‘C’ shape so that they could defend the front, rear and left flanks of their position. The Bren opened up on the second group to the rear and started knocking down the enemy at long range. Harris and Trent joined in with their Enfield rifles, within seconds there were none left standing. Smith called for a ceasefire and the men reloaded their weapons, ready for whatever awaited them.
Lieutenant Harvey called out, “Sergeant Peters!”
The Lance Sergeant responded promptly, “Sir!”
Harvey continued, “Take Humphreys and check on the bodies.”
The sergeant and corporal moved off towards the nearest bodies from the firefight. The closest ones were only a dozen yards or so from their firing line. Looking at the first body it was obvious that these people were in the same condition as those discovered earlier. Their bodies were covered in a variety of injuries prior to those sustained from their own shooting. Peters was surprised by one of the bodies in particular. Looking more closely he noticed a patch on the soldier’s uniform. It hadn’t even occurred to him that these men might not be German. He turned and shouted out to the Captain.
“Captain Scott, we’ve got an American here!”
Peters turned back to the bodies, spotting movement in the middle of the group. Humphreys pointed to another that was moving. Humphreys stood up, looking at Peters, “What the hell?”
As Peters turned, Humphreys spotted more of the shapes moving from the woodland. “Oh shit, Sir, we’ve got more of them!”
One of the men in the unit spotted movement behind them, from the group that had been approaching from a distance. More were also approaching from behind them. Peters screamed out, the American soldier that was wounded amongst the bodies was holding onto his leg, lifting himself up the sergeant’s body. Humphreys ran over and tried to help, only to be pulled to the ground by more of the dead men.
The two girls started screaming, the same sound that the British soldiers had heard at the start of the action. They were pulled out of harm’s way by the burly Lance Sergeant Jones. One of the corpses somehow pulled itself up to their position but Jones stamped down hard and emptied a dozen rounds into the body, he put a few in the head, just to be sure. He looked back at the two cowering girl, they were petrified.
Smith shouted to Jones and Wilks.
“Get over there and give them a hand, the rest of you, open fire!”
The soldiers immediately opened fire on the new targets that had arrived. Jones and Wilks leapt over the broken fence and moved ahead, firing bursts at any of the living corpses that got too close. Within seconds they were there and dragging the wounded Humphreys away from the bodies but some of them were still holding on. Jones smashed the wooden stock of his Sten MKV into a man’s skulls, knocking him down whilst Wilks kicked another repeatedly. The two men kept pulling at Humphreys. Peters tried to stagger back, away from the bodies on the ground. The American kept trying to bite at him but he held him off with his hands. Something clawed at his feet, forcing him to lose his balance and dropped him to the ground.
Back at the fence Smith could see their situation falling apart. The bodies on the ground all around their position were slowly lifting themselves up and moving towards them, whilst in the distance more of them were appearing from the dark woods. Smith ran back to the two officers, firing bursts from his Sten as he went. All along the line the soldiers were shooting and every few seconds the crump of a grenade blasted apart several of the enemy.
Smith spoke rapidly to the men.
“I’ve got no bloody idea what’s going on. I suggest we get moving and fast. See those buildings ahead?” the sergeant pointed out to the distance, the officers nodded.
“Right, we get to decent cover, check the wounded and get into a more defensible position.”
Lieutenant Harvey gave the order and the soldiers lifted themselves up, grabbed any wounded and the two girls and made for the buildings off in the distance. Smith and the two officers helped pull Humphreys from what looked like living corpses but there was nothing they could do for Peters. Dragged to the ground at least three of the corpses were taking mouthful of flesh from his arms and throat, he was screaming and blood gurgled from his throat and mouth. Lieutenant Harvey paused for a moment then pointed his Colt 1911 at the man and fired three rounds at him. Two impacted into the unfortunate soldier’s chest, the third and final round hit him square between the eyes. Without hesitation the survivors dragged the wounded men between them and joined the exodus across the field to the buildings.
The thin column was now scattered and running the distance of two field lengths to the buildings in the small village. Though the lead men were almost there, the two officers, Smith and the men they had just saved were struggling to keep up. Moving at a fast walking pace the moving corpses were slowly gaining on the group. Smith fired bursts when he could, but he mainly needed to help the wounded Humphreys who was being dragged between him and Captain Scott. Smith noticed that Lieutenant Harvey was being grabbed by two of the vile things. One was knocked back by several rounds fired at point blank at its head by the officer’s pistol, the second however was hanging on to his smock and equipment, slowing him down. Before he could try and help another appeared at his side and he was forced to release Humphreys for a moment and spray a burst of fire into the thing’s chest.
A short distance ahead, were Chard and Archer. As they ran both of the men kept a watchful eye on their left flank. They were running as fast as they could with the equipment they were carrying. Chard held his Sten MKV in both hands whilst on a sling he carried the PIAT projector. Archer on the other hand lugged the heavy Bren machinegun, not a weapon for sprinting with. Looking behind Chard spotted the trouble the officers and Smith were in.