Kumm called back Vogel and ordered him to attack Hoehe 28 immediately. He rang off and called the commander of Company 3, which had routed the partisan engineers. He ordered the company to move out of the woodline and renew its attack on the main ridge to support the armor on their right. Company 3 would have to go straight ahead, right at the enemy bunkers, regardless of the cost. That, after all is what the SS did.
The only missing piece was Stadler. But Kumm trusted his subordinate to carry out the mission plan and assumed Stadler’s armored column and infantry were assaulting the forester’s settlement.
Stadler was only about two kilometers from Kumm, but invisible to the regimental commander through the dense trees that divided the roadways on which the German attacks proceeded. It bothered Stadler that he was out of communication with his commander, but like Kumm, the SS battalion commander was feeling confident. He was in the van of the attack on the left, following a Stug III assault gun and two more half-tracks loaded with infantry and engineers—mirroring Kumm’s attack on the right Behind him the damaged Stug fired into the old forester’s settlement, supporting his assault. His mounted troops were shooting like demons from the halftracks at the ridge. They were taking machinegun fire, but nothing heavier, in return. On his far left infantry Company 1 was moving to encircle the partisans. It looked like the enemy was about to be trapped and overrun—like wiping out an anthill—as Kumm had said.
Yatom left Fliegel and returned to the main bunker where he checked up on Roi. The machine-gunner had recovered his wits and was shooting from the bunker into the wood-line against the Germans who had killed Roskovsky. Roi had used up his ammo for the Negev and was shooting an MG-34, helped by two young fighters who serviced the weapon and spotted targets for him. Near Roi one other bunker continued to fire but the others on the forward slope had fallen silent, either victims of shock, mortar attack, or the Stugs cannon. “Hold them Roi” yelled Yatom from the rear bunker entrance. The commando sergeant put his thumb up and got back to work.
Yatom ran back down the ridge and gathered up Ido, now stripped down to fighting trim. Together, he and the medic ran to position on the left of the ridge, still dodging the occasional German mortar bomb. Rafi greeted them in his trench and pointed at a German assault gun which was now less than 100 meters away. It had already destroyed two nearby bunkers, killing the men inside. Rafi had the B-300 to hand, but with only two rockets available was waiting for Yatom to authorize him to fire. “Do it” said Yatom.
Rafi but the assault gun in the launcher’s crosshairs. The turretless German tank appeared huge in the sight—the B-300 was accurate out to more than 300 meters and this would be an easy shot. He loosed the rocket. It struck the Stug III near the gun mantlet, emiting a fantastic flash and sending a jet of molten metal into the fighting compartment, instantly killing the crew. The assault gun slewed to a stop. From the surviving bunkers nearby the Israelis heard cheers. Yatom turned to Ido and handed him the Galil, already loaded with a rocket grenade—one of three that remained
“You know how to use this?” Yatom asked the medic. Ido nodded, though it had been awhile. “Take out the halftracks” Yatom told him. Yatom grabbed Rafi, still holding the B-300. “Go join Mofaz on the right” ordered Yatom. “You know where?” Rafi nodded, and ran off with the rocket launcher. Yatom headed back toward the mortar teams.
It took Ido all three rockets, but when he was done, the medic had put the cure to the German armored attack on the Israeli left. The two half-tracks were left smoking next to the destroyed Stug. Ido took the Galil, which still had plenty of bullets, and fired at the surviving German armored infantry, who to his amazement, instead of running away, were still trying to take the hill Joined by a Bren team in a bunker to his right, he managed to pin the German infantry several dozen meters away.
Yatom heard the detonations of the Galil rockets and hoped they had hit home, but he had no time to check. He continued on the the mortar pits without turning back and arrived dog-tired from his exertions. Though anxious to act, he sat down in one of the pits and caught his breath. Between the radio, the armored vest, his weapons and ammunition, Yatom was carrying over forty kilos of gear. The mortar crews, ten Jews mostly from Bohemia huddled in the pit staring at the exhausted Israeli commander, while the occasional German shell crashed around them. Somewhat recovered Yatom dusted himself off and said carefully in German “Can you shoot back?”
“Yes sir!” said Poldolsky the crew chief, a man of about Yatom’s age, and a former Polish army artilleryman. “Everything is ready, we just need the coordinates.”
Yatom put up his hand, to calm the eager gunner. If he’d been back in modern Israel, the fire coordinates would have been generated automatically by artillery radar and GPS systems, but now he’d have to do things the old fashioned way. Yatom radioed Ilan and Bolander on the hillock across the valley. The snipers had the best eyes and optics in the sayeret, and in addition to sniping duties, Yatom had put them on the neighboring hill just for this purpose—as a makeshift forward observers. Although the hillock was not quite as high as the main ridge it offered a better view of the valley below and the likely location of the enemy artillery.
“Find the enemy mortars” Yatom told Han, and signed off. The snipers scanned the distant trees, looking for the telltale signs of an artillery discharge, using optical and thermal sights. They matched their observations to a local map upon which Rafi and marked half-kilometer square grid coordinates—not particularly precise given the congested battle area. It took the snipers a few minutes, during which time Yatom and the mortarmen had to endure a more incoming rounds. Fortunately, the German mortarmen were concentrating on the front slope and top of the ridge and were apparently unconcerned with what might be on the reverse slope. On the adjacent hillock, llan and Bolander were under intermittent mortar fire too, but they ignored the incoming bombs, safe in the well constructed bunker. Finally, Ilan radioed coordinates. Yatom checked them against his own map and did a quick calculation. He gave the result to the crew chief who calibrated the mortars. They fired off a round. Ilan observed the fall of shot and called a correction. They repeated the process—twice—slowly bracketing the location of the suspected enemy battery. As they did this the German fire slackened. Yatom figured that the enemy mortarmen, realizing that they were under counter-battery fire, were holding back while they decided what to do. During this pause, Ilan finally satisfied himself that the Jewish mortars were adequately registered and radioed the call “fire for effect.” Poldolsky’s mortarmen began to work in earnest.
As the mortar duel was underway, Mofaz and Nir, on the far right of the Israeli line, were trying with dwindling success to stave off Stadler’s attack. The two commandos fought from a fortified shack, one of half a dozen in the old settlement, each manned by a section of Jewish fighters. Both commandos carried 40mm launchers under their Tavors, which Mofaz had already proved could damage a halftrack. The Stug III assaulting their position was a different matter. They’d each fired a round into the Stug without effect Between them they only had four grenades left. Just as disturbing was the realization that that these Germans were very well led. The surviving halftracks stayed far away, shooting their machineguns but otherwise not offering themselves up for another easy shot. Meanwhile the attacking Stug and another further off down the forester’s lane, continued to pound the settlement with their cannons, while infantry maneuvered on the flanks, infiltrating the position. The shelling was taking its toll, both on the two commandos, and especially the thirty other Jews who defended the place. Already, several positions were in ruins or under attack by the encroaching German infantry. The Mofaz and Nir had risked life and limb moving from position to position trying to encourage the shaken defenders, and plug local breaches. Now, exhausted like Yatom, and unwilling to expose themselves to the point-blank fire of the assault guns and the nearby German infantry, they hunkered down in their shack hard by the ridge-line. They could not hold on much longer.