As she strode past the first foxhole, her good foot connected with a stone in the grass. She bent down to pick it up, intending to send it into the water.
However, this ‘stone’ was manufactured in the US of A, as it was a Mk II Fragmentation grenade, placed ready for use beside the foxhole by the former American occupant.
Inspecting the grenade, Tatiana could see no problems with it and slipped it into her pocket as a deadly souvenir.
She continued her walk, professionally assessing the signs of intense combat, interpreting the marks of violence, imagining a rush of feet here and a last stand there until her reverie was broken by shouting from her security officer, beckoning her to return to the vehicle.
Pausing only to commend the Mladshy Leytenant for his speedy repair and apprise him of the unrecovered remains, she mounted the GAZ and continued the journey back to GRU Headquarters.
Eisenhower was worried, or more accurately, concerned because he wasn’t worried as much as had been the case the past week. Across the whole front Russian attacks had now stopped, with the sole exception of Hamburg. Report after report from frontline units spoke of enemy units halting, as if exhausted. All except Hamburg. The situation was unclear and a report from McCreery was due at any time.
The plan to bomb the potential enemy reserve sites had been put together well and received Ike’s wholehearted endorsement, although Soviet night fighters had been in the air in large numbers the previous night and the British had sustained unusually heavy losses, damaging the intended operations for that evening. None the less, the brave crews would go out again, bolstered by bomber training squadrons and every night fighter unit in the Allied inventory.
The arrival of more operation ground-attack assets was another fillip to a General under great pressure.
However, as always, there was a balance. A Soviet submarine had sunk another troop carrier off the south coast of Eire with great loss of life. She was the Empire Windrush, formerly known as the Monte Rosa of the Hamburg-Sud Company, carrying over two thousand young replacement troops to the British and Canadian armies in the field.
A mine had taken out a large tanker off Cherbourg that very evening, bringing to three the number of fuel deliveries lost to the Allied armies in as many days.
Allied anti-submarine deployments were being doubled but it was taking time to get the assets in the right places.
None the less, more units and supplies were coming, from the States, from the United Kingdom and her dominions, from Spain, from South America, and from…
Eisenhower’s flow of positive thoughts was interrupted by a knock on the door of his private office, a small and cosy room, a place he rarely went but had chosen for this brief encounter.
Standing, he crushed his cigarette into the overflowing brass ashtray and stroked his uniform jacket into place, checking his appearance in the tall mirror. Adopting an authoritative tone, he invited entrance.
Hood looked round the door.
“Shall I show the gentlemen in now sir?”
Eisenhower nodded and Hood’s head retreated to be replaced by a procession of three men in uniforms of uncertain parentage, most certainly a mix and match of mainly American but all with German boots and gaiters mixed with US Army trousers in one case, belt and helmet comforter in another, and two with German side caps.
The colt holsters drew Eisenhower’s eye even though he knew the weapons had been surrendered at the security point. Such measures were now considered necessary and there were no exceptions allowed.
There was no doubt that all three men had made efforts to sharpen their appearance.
‘Professionals are always professionals,’ the General reminded himself.
Bringing up the rear was Colonel Samuel V. Rossiter USMC, whose holster was very obviously filled and who was there ostensibly to interpret.
In spite of the deliberate informality of the setting and the purpose of the meeting, there seemed to be a definite tension in all six men.
‘Hardly surprising,’ thought Ike.
The present military alliance between the two countries was still young and raw, and the last four bloody years were not so easily set aside.
It fell to Eisenhower to break the awkwardness.
“Gentlemen, Good Evening. Welcome to the Headquarters of Allied Armies in Europe. I have requested the three of you come here this evening so that I can thank you personally for your efforts.”
Rossiter translated. Eisenhower clucked at himself.
“My apologies, we haven’t been introduced. I am Dwight D. Eisenhower, Commanding Officer Allied Forces.”
The middle man of the three took a small step forward and indicated the man to his right, nearest the General.
Braun, speaking English, took the initiative.
“If I may Sir, this is Rolf Uhlmann, formerly Sturmbannfuhrer with 5th SS Panzer Division,” stepping back and extending his hand to his left-side.
“And this is Ostap Shandruk, a Ukrainian national, formerly Obersturmfuhrer with 14th SS Grenadiere Division.”
Each clicked their heels in deference as they were introduced, receiving a smile and a nod from the Allied Commander.
“For myself, I am Johannes Braun, formerly Sturmscharfuhrer with 5th SS Panzer Division, and all of us were prisoners of the Russians at Edelbach.”
“Thank you Master Sergeant Braun. I regret that we must be brief, and I hope you will all understand that time is limited to me at the moment.”
This time Braun took up the translating.
“I know General Clark has already thanked you for your service but I wanted to add to that, as now we know that you saved many lives and gave some of our units the early warning they needed.”
Braun shared the words with the men either side of him equally, his head moving from side to side almost rhythmically.
Eisenhower waited, eyeing his cigarette pack longingly.
“I would very much like to know why you undertook this perilous journey, and then risked your lives again bringing us the information.”
Translation ended, a swift exchange in German between Uhlmann and Braun followed. Eisenhower didn’t understand but Rossiter did. The Marine smiled and pursed his lips in amusement.
Uhlmann spoke slowly so that Braun could translate his words as he went.
“Herr General, until recently we were enemies but my country has capitulated and that war is ended. What we saw was a new war about to start, one in which the Russian would be the common enemy. It was our simple duty to report what we saw, because we could not believe that our country would do anything but ally itself with the anti-communist cause.”
Eisenhower nodded his way through the translation, a serious look on his face. This was what he had been told but it was something else to hear it from the horse’s mouth, although Rossiter could attest to the fact that Braun was not repeating exactly what the former SS officer had said. Very wise as it never paid to swear at a General.
Uhlmann had not yet finished.
“We Eastern Front soldiers had already seen the Red Army at work, destroying, raping, looting, and murdering.”
The ex-SS officer punched out the last words, adding the emphasis of passion.
“Part of Germany lies in their control, we could not see more of it invaded Herr General.”
Eisenhower went to speak but Uhlmann suddenly whispered to his comrade, so the General bided his time.
Braun coughed and sought permission to continue.
“Sturmbann… sorry… Herr Uhlmann says that, in truth, it would have been more difficult to sit and do nothing.”