“This line, Liverpool. Liverpool-north, hit the open ground north of the houses. Liverpool-south, the road and rail to the south. This one, Manchester, bisects the rail/road bridge. So, Manchester-north, then hit the open ground to the north-east, Manchester-south, then it’s the bridge itself. Got that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Anything else and I will give you a grid. But have a fire-plan set up for Liverpool-north and south to start with.”
With that, he ran to the 432 and joined the air defence group, and the carrier screamed off at high speed down Route 1, heading for Clapham.
Lieutenant Russell caught up with the rest of his platoon just as British artillery started to pound the Soviet forces. He zoomed in with his binos; the view from Clapham was quite clear. Clouds of smoke and yellow flashes filled his lens as he watched the salvos land amongst the enemy. He couldn’t see any soldiers on the ground, but paratroopers were still falling out of the sky. During the occasional lull in the explosions, he could hear small-arms fire as elements of the Royal Green Jackets moved in from Salzhemmendorf in the south and Benstort in the north.
Colour Sergeant Rose came alongside. “Corporal Reid has positioned his Gympy over there, bang on the rail/road junction and has assigned one of his men for each Milan.”
“Voldagsen?”
“They’ve taken over the second storey of a house. Gives them a pretty good view of the enemy if they try and flank us to the north. We just don’t have enough firepower, sir. We could do with holding that location. If the enemy occupy it, they could take potshots at us from good cover, or get into the high ground.”
Alex looked back, identifying the two Milan positions, one either side of the railway line just before it crossed the road. The Gympy was set up on one side of the road where it crossed the rail line. He beckoned his signaler over and took the handset from him.
“One-One-Foxtrot, One-One-Alpha. Radio check. Over.”
“One-One-Foxtrot. Five, five. Plots in for Liverpool-north and Liverpool-south, over.”
“Roger, out to you. Hello, One-One-Bravo-Alpha, any sightings? Over.”
The unit in Voldagsen had the spare radio. “One-One-Bravo-Alpha. Negative, no movement. Arty fire still dropping on Grid Delta, seven, one, five, Echo, four, two, five. Over.”
“Acknowledged. Out.”
“I’m going to check the Milans. Then all we have to do is wait.”
“I’ll be with the AD section, sir.”
Russell moved back along the railway line for about fifty metres, coming across the two soldiers acting as sentries first. He talked through the fields of fire with the crews who had set up the FPs, one either side of the double railway line.
“One-One-Alpha, this is One-One-Echo. I have an unidentified unit approaching my location. Over.”
“Numbers and intention. Over.”
“Two vehicles and a small tank… could be, wait… looks like one of those Jag Panzers. Probably twenty-plus troops in a couple of Unimogs. Over.”
Kanonenjagdpanzer, thought Dean. It only had a 90mm gun, but could create havoc with any BMDs, and maybe even an ASU-85, if the Sovs had one.
“500 metres out, slowing down.”
“Roger. Hold your fire, but watch yourselves.”
“Roger.”
“Corporal Stubbings, have one of your Milans ready to swing round. Target the road as it leaves the village.”
“On it, sir.”
“One-One-Echo. They’ve stopped, 100 metres out. Someone walking towards us.”
“Roger.”
They all waited patiently. Dean was confident nothing was amiss. He didn’t anticipate it being a Soviet airborne unit behind them. They had seen no paratroopers that far back, or any heli flights in the last hour.
“One-One-Alpha, One-One-Echo. Over.”
“Go ahead.”
“There’s a box-head officer wants to speak to you, sir.”
Colour Sergeant Rose, who had just joined his platoon commander in the last few seconds, picked up the latter part of Lance Corporal Coles’s message and hissed. “I’ll speak to him, sir, when I see him.”
“He says he’s Leutnant Burger, sir, come to support us. Over.”
Dean thought for a moment. If they had wanted to, they could have sent some men forward covertly and taken out Coles’s small section.
“Let them through.”
“Wilco, sir.”
“Standby, lads, just in case,” warned Rose.
Within five minutes, the two Bundeswehr trucks and the twenty-seven ton tank-destroyer pulled up close to the railway crossing.
The German officer dropped down from the cab of the Unimog and saluted Russell who returned the salute. The man, looking to be in his mid to late forties, then proffered his hand and shook Dean’s firmly.
“Leutnant Burger, Herr Leutnant. I am with the Landwehr. Our mission is to hold Coppenbrugge, but I think with the unit you have we would be better placed with your men here, if you don’t object.”
“More than glad to have you and your men alongside us, Leutnant Burger, but I would just like to check in with my HQ first.”
“Naturally.”
“Colour, would you do the honours please?”
“Of course, sir.”
With that, Rose took the signaler to a position about twenty-metres away so they could contact their Company HQ and confirm the identity of the intruders.
“Once you get clearance, where would you like my men?”
“How many do you have?”
“Twenty-four, including myself. Oh, and I have that,” he said pointing to the tank-destroyer. “Ugly I know, but it packs a Wunderbar punch,” he said with a huge grin.
Dean couldn’t help but reciprocate, so unused to Germans with a sense of humour. He pulled out his map, knelt down, and flattened it out on the surface of the road.
“Sir,” shouted Rose, and gave Dean the thumbs up.
“Seems you are kosher.”
“Kosher?”
“Genuine.”
“Gut, gut. Danke. Now, your map, eh?” He knelt down alongside Dean. “I want to get my men under cover, before they stop,” Burger said, pointing to the continuing barrage hitting the Soviet airborne forces to their south-west.
“I’ve got three men in the village there,” Dean said, pointing towards Voldagsen. “It would be better if we could hold that.”
The German officer studied the map. “I used to command a battalion in the Bundeswehr until I was invalided out. I have a bit of a limp,” he said, tapping his left leg. “Jumped out of a helicopter just as a gust of wind jolted the machine upwards about five-metres. My leg is now more steel than flesh.” He laughed. “Yes, we must hold that plot. I could put half my men there with Kanonen. The rest… where would you suggest?”
“We have recce on top of the Hohenstein, but it would be good to have a small force lower down on the eastern edge. You can spot for any enemy approaching and pull back should you need to through the forest, covering my southern flank.”
“Yes, I like it. We work well together already, Leutnant.”
“Dean, my name’s Dean.”
“Ah, Dean. Mine is Leon. So, you will pull your men back and reinforce here, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Good, I will get my men moving.”