Mofaz and Nir shared the shack with a Bren gun team of two men and a woman. The Bren gunners were near the end of their tether, huddling behind a wooden wall reinforced with piled rocks, as a distant halftrack poured machinegun fire at them. “Let’s try to take that one out” said Mofaz, pointing at the German vehicle, 200 meters away. It was a tough shot because the grenade had to be lobbed, not fired directly. Nir, the more expert with the weapon launched a round. It exploded to the right of the halftrack. That simply induced the track commander to move back several more meters, and resume firing. Nir tried again, but his round appeared to fall short. The Israelis could not tell if the halftrack had been damaged, but it withdrew again and stopped firing.
The respite didn’t last. “Look” said Nir, pointing beyond the withdrawing half-track toward the woods behind. As the halftrack moved away the Israelis saw dozens of German infantrymen moving to the north, threatening to envelope not only the forester’s settlement, but the entire ridgeline position.
Mofaz radioed Yatom with the bad news, and asked his commander to deploy Fliegel’s reserve company. Yatom called to Fliegel from the mortar pit, and ordered the Silesian and his men to occupy a small wooded hill just to the east of the forester’s camp. From there he hoped Fliegel’s company could hold the German flanking attack.
Mofaz was not done. “Yatom, you must send us Rafi. We are getting killed by this German tank!”
“He’s on the way” Yatom shouted back into his radio, over the bark of the mortars. Just then Rafi ran into the fortified shack, German bullets clipping at his heels.
Mofaz pointed to the nearer of the two assault guns, barely 100 meters away. “I could hit that with my eyes closed” said Rafi, lifting the B-300.
“Just do it” snapped Mofaz.
Rafi ducked out of the bunker—the backblast from the weapon would kill or injure everybody in the bunker if he fired from that enclosed space. He crawled to the side of the building, exposing himself but easily sighting the Stug.
At that same moment the Stug gunner saw Rafi pointing the strange weapon at him. Though anti-tank rocket launchers were still unknown to German crews in 1942, the gunner knew a target when he saw one and fired just as Rafi sent his last round on the way. The rocket penetrated the Stug and destroyed the vehicle in an instant, killing the gunner and the rest of the crew. But the Stug’s gunner got off his 75mm round just before he died. It struck the side of the fortified shack. protective vest and helmet saved his life, but the concussion from the round knocked him out and damaged his internal organs, while shrapnel lanced his arms and legs. Mofaz and Nir realized immediately that Rafi had taken the worst of the explosion. They ducked out of the postion and pulled the gravely wounded commando back into the bunker.
On the other side of the battlefield Feldhandler, Norit and De Young were blasting away with the MG 42 at groups of German infantry charging bravely toward them on the hillock. Ilan and Bolander, in their nearby bunker were at it too, searching for squad and platoon leaders to kill. Wrapping around the forward slopes of the hill, five other machinegun bunkers fired on the Germans, along with three of the four new Jewish sniper teams. On the reverse slope, more bunkers and another sniper team waited. Yatom had turned the hillock into a little fortress, the strongest of the Jewish positions, capable of defending in all directions. The Germans to realized this too and they relentlessly pounded the hill with their second mortar battery, mixing smoke with high explosive.
Vogel, the commander of the attacking German company, mercilessly ordered his men forward toward the hill, threatening to shoot any man who shirked his duty. Kumm had assumed that 2nd Company would the hill to the south, but Vogel, just out of the Junkerschule, had the bit in his teeth. The inexperienced young officer was determined to show his worth by taking the hill by direct assault. Behind the exploding mortars and the terrifying firepower of their MG 42s the SS infantry clawed their way forward, taking terrible losses but finally reaching the lower slopes of the hill. There they assaulted the first Jewish bunker within reach, taking it in a violent rush of flashing MP-40s and stick grenades. Vogel ordered the lead assault platoon to press on, but they faltered. Bolander, Ilan and their amateur snipers had gunned down every officer and most of the platoon sergeants and corporals during the charge. The young SS survivors sheltered in the fallen bunker and contented themselves with returning the galling Jewish fire.
Vogel came forward himself. He positioned a pair of German marksman with scoped Mausers at the base of the hill, and directed them to counter the enemy snipers. He then gathered his third platoon, still fresh and uncommitted. Putting himself at the platoon’s head, his enthusiasm untamed by the slaughter around him, Vogel deliberately led the force forward, using a flanking movement and seeking hide himself and his men from the enemy marksmen. Attacking now as Kumm had expected, Vogel and his 3d platoon managed to overrun a second Jewish bunker, killing all those inside, while taking only minor losses. Encouraged by the success, Vogel pressed on up the hill, heading straight for Feldhandler’s bunker.
Ilan and Bolander recognized what was happening but were powerless to help. Vogel and his men were defiladed. The Israeli snipers could not easily change their position either, with the hillock still being pounded by mortars, swept by machine guns, and also under German sniper fire. German marksmen had already knocked out one of their recently trained sniper teams and had another pinned down.
“Let’s take out the German snipers” suggested Bolander “then the machinegunners. Then we’ll just take our chances with the mortars.”
“Beseder” said Ilan. “You spot, I’ll shoot.” Using his own rifle as a spotter scope, Bolander identified the one of the German marksmen and called the target to Ilan. They lazed the unsuspecting German and Ilan put a round through his head. The second German recognized the danger and shifted his position, smartly moving into a low patch of ground obscured by smoke. The Israelis activated their thermal imagers and picked the German out. The German sniper, believing himself hidden in the smoke, did not take adequate cover. A second head shot eliminated the German sniper threat. The Israeli snipers now turned to the supporting machineguns and started to whittle away at the crews.
Across the hill Vogel and his men, safe from the Israeli marksmen, pressed their attack. A Bren position still with an angle of fire shot into the SS assault group, knocking down several men but not stopping the advance. Feldhandler and De Young, saw the the danger, and hurriedly tried to load another belt into the MG 42 while Norit shot at the advancing Germans with a Sten gun. Suddenly Feldhandler cried out. He stared down at his hands which looked like a charred meat. Feldhandler had accidently grasped the red hot barrel of the machinegun. The scientist fell back into the bunker against De Jong, leaving the loaded MG42 at the lip of the position.
Led by a veteran sergeant with Vogel but a few steps behind, the attacking Germans closed on Feldhandler’s bunker and tossed grenades. One landed just meters in front of the aperture blowing dirt and dust inside, and shaking the three Jews. Norit rubbed her face to clear the cobwebs, ignored the smoke and dust, and grabbed the loaded MG 42. She pulled the trigger, spraying a dozen bullets from the rapid-fire weapon, killing the SS sergeant just before the overheated gun jammed. Vogel, stepping over his dead sergeant, rushed the defenseless bunker, his MP-40 at the ready. Norit, now helpless, fell back inside with Feldhandler and De Jong, as the grim faced German officer filled the bunker’s aperture.