Smith, still stuck behind the farm machinery, could see the pinned soldiers a short distance to the side of the German positions. With fire now coming from the sandbag emplacement and the building he needed things to change, and fast. Off in the distance he could just make out Peters and his small group who had been sneaking up, closing the distance to get within grenade distance of the building.
A burst of fire from the MG34 hit just inches from Smith’s position. Two of the paratroopers were cut down, the bullets punching through their cover with ease. Smith was now left with just four men and they were pinned down. More machinegun fire opened up as Cable and the riflemen engaged the Germans once again from the front. The short, accurate bursts from the Bren gave Smith the time he needed. Pulling a grenade from his jacket, he pulled the pin and waited as long as possible. With a good throw the deadly weapon landed firmly in the middle of the sandbag emplacement. One German spotted the bomb, but grabbed for it too late. The blast sent shrapnel into both his companion whilst simultaneously tearing the man’s arm clean off. Luckily for him the pain was almost nonexistent as the grenade also tore holes in his stomach and chest. The other two writhed in agony, for now they were out of the fight.
Smith shouted to his group, “Come on, follow me!”
The sergeant and his surviving four soldiers moved forward, taking the sandbag emplacement. Dropping down into cover they surveyed the scene. Private Wilks, slamming in a new magazine continued putting down fire on the windows, keeping the MG34 occupied. Smith grabbed another grenade and threw it, only for it to hit the wall and land just outside the window. As it flashed impotently it was followed by additional explosions from the opposite side of the building. The attack by Peters and his small unit had started.
One of the Germans had left his position, presumably to assist the defence of the building where Peters’ men were attacking. Smith spotted his opportunity and shouted to Chard.
“Use your PIAT, take out these bastards!”
The building was now on fire at one end. The MG34 continued firing towards Smith but with three groups of paratroopers putting down fire on the building, the tiny group of survivors would have no chance. Chard, who until now had been laying down suppressing fire on the building, shouldered his PIAT, an unusual British anti-tank weapon that looked like a horizontal mortar. The weapon launched a powerful explosive charge using a strong spring. Though small and deadly the weapon was heavy and the impact of the spring gave painful bruises and in some cases had even broken bones. Aiming at the window frame being used by the MG34 gunner, Chard pulled the trigger. With a jarring thud the spring propelled the bomb through the air right at the target. As soon as it made impact the fuse was trigged, the entire frame vanished in flame and smoke. Peters and his men rushed the building from their side, quickly followed by Smith and his surviving men. Firing had stopped and looking around it was clear that the PIAT had finished the job.
Back at the glider, Harvey was still with the pinned Johnson. He had done his best to dress the wound but could still not remove him from the wreckage. Even if he could, the piece of wood stuck in his body would have to stay for now. If he removed it the obstruction would free the blood flow and Johnson would die soon afterwards. With the battle over for now the glider was no longer taking fire. Amazingly, none of the bullets had struck the two men but the glider and taken hundreds of rounds and was shredded from nose to tail. Chard appeared at the doorway of the glider, he looked a little confused as there were the bodies of two German soldiers at the doorway. He looked to the officer.
“Sir, Sergeant Smith reports we have taken the German positions and need to move on as soon as possible. We have a few wounded men at the house.” Lieutenant Harvey looked unimpressed; he looked back at the pinned body, thinking quickly.
“Okay, get me two more men and your tools, I’ll come with you.”
“Sir?” he asked.
“Don’t think, fool,” responded the Lieutenant in an agitated manner, “just get the men and fast!”
He left the glider and Harvey followed. As they walked Chard asked the Lieutenant, “What happened with those men?” he pointed to the bodies of the Germans.
Harvey responded dryly, “They tried to interrupt me.”
Chard grinned to himself; perhaps this officer wasn’t as bad as he had first thought.
The Lieutenant stopped for a moment.
“Chard, can you hear that?” Harvey asked.
He stopped, scanning the horizon.
“No, Sir,” he answered, then added, “wait…that sounds like…”
“Vehicles,” completed Harvey.
“Quick, to the house, we’ll come back for Johnson.”
The two men rushed across the open ground, both keeping low to avoid being picked out by whoever was approaching.
At the house Sergeant Smith surveyed the scene of the recent firefight. Corporal Humphreys ran up to him, along with Trent and Peters. They looked grim, the fight had been unexpected and a very bloody start to what was sure to be a long and bitter campaign in France.
“What is the butcher’s bill then? I know I lost two from the MG34,” Smith asked.
“Well, we lost two crossing the field,” Humphreys answered.
“Shit!” swore Smith. Harvey reached the group, he moved straight for Smith. “Are we okay?” he asked.
“No, Sir. By my counting then we’ve lost four men in this scrap plus the losses in the crash. What a fucking arse-up. How is Johnson?”
“Johnson is stable for now, right now though, we’ve got other problems to worry about.”
Chard added, “I’ve checked the perimeter, we definitely have a number of vehicles approaching, about a mile away,” he pointed off into the distance.
“Any idea what we’re facing?” Sergeant Smith asked.
“I think at least one is an armoured car, the rest look like trucks, it’s not easy to tell from here. They definitely aren’t ours though,” responded Chard.
“Lieutenant, I recommend we get Johnson and all the weapons and ammunition we can carry, then get to the rendezvous,” suggested Smith.
“Also, we can leave a couple of surprises for the Jerries, it might buy us a little more time.”
“You don’t think we can hold them off?” Harvey asked, looking sceptical at their retreat after having just won this battle.
“No chance, Sir. We’re already running low on ammunition and if Chard is right we could be facing fifty plus infantry and armour. Right now we need to get back on mission,” Smith replied.
“Yes…you’re right,” agreed Harvey.
Though he obviously lacked the combat experience of Smith, he certainly seemed to know when to take advice. Smith considered what he had seen so far, the officer was as bad as his instincts had first told him.
The night was filled by the most appalling screech, a sound none of them had heard before, not even in their worst nightmares. The sound was closely followed by gunfire from the direction of the approaching column. The British soldiers hit the ground automatically, their training and experience kicking in. As the men huddled down as low as they could, nothing happened. Though the battle continued no fire came down upon their positions. Smith moved up to the cover of the sandbags and surveyed the horizon. He signalled to the others to keep their heads down. He could just make out the rough silhouette of the crashed glider along the tree line, about the same distance again a vehicle was burning.