the wounded with a few Mpi bursts, and I'd like to know who'll volunteer to stay behind with them. You can't order soldiers to give themselves up. Have you forgotten Lemberg, where they liquidated hundreds of wounded with a shot in the neck and crucified the priests on the doors. You can't leave comrades to that sort of fate. I must say no to your suggestion, Herr Oberst.' He sits down again on the snow and avoids Oberst Frick's eye. He knows his answer was a cowardly evasion, but Torgau looms, like a brutal threat, in his thoughts.
The last to reply is Oberleutnant Wisling from No. 4 Company.
'Sir, I am in complete agreement with you. You have no other choice. In your place I would give the order, and if anyone complained I would convene a drumhead court martial for him. Whether you agree or not, orders are to be obeyed. Any recruit knows that!'
'Another cowardly, traitorous swine,' shouts Schultz, indignantly.
'In your position, Herr Oberst,' continues Oberleutnant Wisling, ignoring Schultz's hate-filled shout, 'I would myself remain with the wounded. Otherwise you will have to defend yourself in front of a German court martial. The result of that can be in little doubt.'
'Thank you, Wisling, it takes guts to state your opinion as you have done, but I do not fear a German court martial, I shall know how to defend my decision, if it comes to that.'
Oberleutnant Wisling shrugs his shoulders. Oberst Frick gets to his feet and adjusts his monocle.
'It has been informative hearing your opinions, but they have not changed my decision. I will not allow soldiers under my command to be slaughtered to no purpose. As commanding officer it must be my chief duty to bring as many effective men back as possible. Dead soldiers are of no value.'
'Running away from these untermensch !' screams Leutnant Schultz into the arctic night, placing his hand theatrically on his pistol holster. 'Is there nobody who puts duty to Fuhrer and Fatherland first? Every German soldier has sworn an oath to risk his life where it is required. Millions of brave soldiers have already given their lives for the Fuhrer. To stay alive, is that your only object, Oberst Frick? God be praised there are only a few of your kind. For the sake of the army you must retract your order. Let us build a hedgehog defence position, and fight the Bolsheviks, kill as many as we can before we ourselves are killed. We owe this to the Fuhrer and the magnificent ideal he has given to the German people.'
'The discussion is closed,' states the Oberst, decisively. 'The wounded will remain here. The group will march off in one hour's time, No. 5 Company leading. Schultz, you will take the rear with the heavy company. And I am sure I do not have to tell you that from this moment failure to obey my order means a court martial on the spot. I will have no protests. Is that understood?'
'Understood, sir,' comes half-audibly from Leutnant Schultz.
The Sanitats-Gefreiter, the former chaplain, and two ski-troopers with frost-bitten feet volunteer to stay with the wounded.
Soon after, the group marches off. The last thing we see is the chaplain standing on a snow hillock waving to us.
About an hour later we hear the chatter of machine-guns behind us. Some say they can hear screams. We were never to know what really happened to the wounded and the three volunteers.
A rattling noise makes us dive for cover.
' Panzer ,' shouts Porta, going like a bullet into a snow-drive.
Orange lightning flashes across the desert of snow. The report that follows is short and flat.
'Tank-gun,' groans Heide, in tenorr.
' Merck, alors , they must be mad,' says the Legionnaire. 'Tanks cannot be used here!'
'You'll soon be wiser, my old sand-flea,' laughs Porta, sarcastically, tying hand-grenades together to make an explosive charge, as he speaks.
'Ivan can do things you'd never believe. Just wait! Your tongues'll fall straight down out of your German arseholes when you find out what Ivan really can
The last to reply is Oberleutnant Wisling from No. 4 Company.
'Sir, I am in complete agreement with you. You have no other choice. In your place I would give the order, and if anyone complained I would convene a drumhead court martial for him. Whether you agree or not, orders are to be obeyed. Any recruit knows that!'
'Another cowardly, traitorous swine,' shouts Schultz, indignantly.
'In your position, Herr Oberst,' continues Oberleutnant Wisling, ignoring Schultz's hate-filled shout, 'I would myself remain with the wounded. Otherwise you will have to defend yourself in front of a German court martial. The result of that can be in little doubt.'
'Thank you, Wisling, it takes guts to state your opinion as you have done, but I do not fear a German court martial, I shall know how to defend my decision, if it comes to that.'
Oberleutnant Wisling shrugs his shoulders. Oberst Frick gets to his feet and adjusts his monocle.
'It has been informative hearing your opinions, but they have not changed my decision. I will not allow soldiers under my command to be slaughtered to no purpose. As commanding officer it must be my chief duty to bring as many effective men back as possible. Dead soldiers are of no value.'
'Running away from these untermensch !' screams Leutnant Schultz into the arctic night, placing his hand theatrically on his pistol holster. 'Is there nobody who puts duty to Fuhrer and Fatherland first? Every German soldier has sworn an oath to risk his life where it is required. Millions of brave soldiers have already given their lives for the Fuhrer. To stay alive, is that your only object, Oberst Frick? God be praised there are only a few of your kind. For the sake of the army you must retract your order. Let us build a hedgehog defence position, and fight the Bolsheviks, kill as many as we can before we ourselves are killed. We owe this to the Fuhrer and the magnificent ideal he has given to the German people.'
'The discussion is closed,' states the Oberst, decisively. 'The wounded will remain here. The group will march off in one hour's time, No. 5 Company leading. Schultz, you will take the rear with the heavy company. And I am sure I do not have to tell you that from this moment failure to obey my order means a court martial on the spot. I will have no protests. Is that understood?'
'Understood, sir,' comes half-audibly from Leutnant Schultz.
The Sanitats-Gefreiter, the former chaplain, and two ski-troopers with frost-bitten feet volunteer to stay with the wounded.
Soon after, the group marches off. The last thing we see is the chaplain standing on a snow hillock waving to us.
About an hour later we hear the chatter of machine-guns behind us. Some say they can hear screams. We were never to know what really happened to the wounded and the three volunteers.
A rattling noise makes us dive for cover.
' Panzer ,' shouts Porta, going like a bullet into a snow-drive.
Orange lightning flashes across the desert of snow. The report that follows is short and flat.
'Tank-gun,' groans Heide, in tenorr.
' Merck, alors , they must be mad,' says the Legionnaire. 'Tanks cannot be used here!'
'You'll soon be wiser, my old sand-flea,' laughs Porta, sarcastically, tying hand-grenades together to make an explosive charge, as he speaks.
'Ivan can do things you'd never believe. Just wait! Your tongues'll fall straight down out of your German arseholes when you find out what Ivan really can
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