Read Online Night of Flames: A Novel of World War II by Douglas W. Jacobson - Free Book Online
Authors: Douglas W. Jacobson
Ads: Link
off your asses!
Sofort! ” and pointed out a spot overlooking a meadow. Grumbling under his breath, Schmidt helped Willy haul one of the MG-34s into position. Buchwald drove the truck farther down the road, where the other gun crews set up positions closer to a bridge at the east end of the town.
“Make sure you set up that tripod, Schmidt,” Kluge yelled over his shoulder as he walked off down the road.
What a pain in the ass, Schmidt thought. They did this every time they stopped. Kluge’s orders, by the book, no questions. By now, Schmidt knew it all by heart: “All the artillery’s up ahead with the panzers. These 34s are the only thing we’ve got to stop an attack.” Attack? Shit, all the Polish troops were supposedly up ahead, hauling ass to Warsaw. But Kluge was Kluge, and he knew better than to argue.
It was almost midnight when they fi nished the setup. Schmidt and Willy had some cold rice and tinned sausage, and settled down under a tree to get some rest until they had to take over the second watch at 0300.
It seemed to Schmidt as if he had just fallen asleep when he felt someone shaking his shoulder. “Schmidt, get up you lazy bastard, it’s your watch.” It was the gunner from the fi rst crew.
Schmidt sat up and tried to clear the cobwebs from his brain. “Anything out there?”
“ Nein. Same old shit. They’re all in Warsaw. Fuckin’ Kluge’s just a fanatic.”
Schmidt got to his feet, rousted Willy and walked over to the machine gun.
He sat down on top of one of the ammo boxes and rubbed his eyes, still groggy from the deep sleep he had fallen into. He noticed that the rain had stopped and the moonlit sky overhead was bright with stars. Out in front of them, the wide, fl at meadow sloped gently toward the river on their right. Schmidt looked around. On the other side of the road was a row of simple stucco homes. He wondered about the people who lived in them, guessing they were probably all hiding in the cellars. He decided he didn’t really care.
Night of Flames
49
Willy tapped him on the shoulder. “I’m going to take a piss. Don’t shoot me,” the ammo tender said as he took a few paces into the meadow. When he was fi nished, Willy buttoned up his pants and started to head back. He stopped and turned back, staring into the darkness. “Schmidt! Komm! Something’s out there!”
“What is it?” Schmidt asked, getting to his feet and stretching.
“I don’t know, I thought I saw some movement out there—or heard something, I’m not sure.”
“Ah, you’re imagining things,” Schmidt said as he came alongside.
Schmidt felt it before he saw it—a slight tremble that rippled up from the ground and through his boots. He glanced at the ground then back into the meadow. He squinted. Then he saw it. It was just barely visible, a thin line of moving shapes spread out across the entire width of the meadow. He blinked.
The shapes were still there, now larger, moving toward them.
“ Meine Gute! Horses!” he sputtered. “It’s cavalry, holy shit!” He stumbled backward and tripped over Willy, who was staring into the meadow, his mouth hanging open. “Get to the gun!” Schmidt yelled. He grabbed Willy by the arm and shoved him back toward the machine gun. “Get up! Get up!” he yelled to the other gun crew who were just settling in for some sleep. “It’s cavalry! Get Kluge! Schnell! Mach schnell! ”
Schmidt scrambled behind the machine gun and grabbed the handle. He looked down the long barrel of the big gun trying to sight in on the shadowy images. They appeared to be just out of range.
Schmidt heard Kluge’s voice shouting from behind, “Hold! Hold!”
He could just make out the riders.
Schmidt’s hands trembled. The horses were getting bigger. He knew he had to wait but, goddamn it, they were getting really close. His eyes blurred and he blinked to clear them.
Kluge yelled, “Fire! Now, Fire!”
Schmidt squeezed the trigger and the big gun exploded into
Sofort! ” and pointed out a spot overlooking a meadow. Grumbling under his breath, Schmidt helped Willy haul one of the MG-34s into position. Buchwald drove the truck farther down the road, where the other gun crews set up positions closer to a bridge at the east end of the town.
“Make sure you set up that tripod, Schmidt,” Kluge yelled over his shoulder as he walked off down the road.
What a pain in the ass, Schmidt thought. They did this every time they stopped. Kluge’s orders, by the book, no questions. By now, Schmidt knew it all by heart: “All the artillery’s up ahead with the panzers. These 34s are the only thing we’ve got to stop an attack.” Attack? Shit, all the Polish troops were supposedly up ahead, hauling ass to Warsaw. But Kluge was Kluge, and he knew better than to argue.
It was almost midnight when they fi nished the setup. Schmidt and Willy had some cold rice and tinned sausage, and settled down under a tree to get some rest until they had to take over the second watch at 0300.
It seemed to Schmidt as if he had just fallen asleep when he felt someone shaking his shoulder. “Schmidt, get up you lazy bastard, it’s your watch.” It was the gunner from the fi rst crew.
Schmidt sat up and tried to clear the cobwebs from his brain. “Anything out there?”
“ Nein. Same old shit. They’re all in Warsaw. Fuckin’ Kluge’s just a fanatic.”
Schmidt got to his feet, rousted Willy and walked over to the machine gun.
He sat down on top of one of the ammo boxes and rubbed his eyes, still groggy from the deep sleep he had fallen into. He noticed that the rain had stopped and the moonlit sky overhead was bright with stars. Out in front of them, the wide, fl at meadow sloped gently toward the river on their right. Schmidt looked around. On the other side of the road was a row of simple stucco homes. He wondered about the people who lived in them, guessing they were probably all hiding in the cellars. He decided he didn’t really care.
Night of Flames
49
Willy tapped him on the shoulder. “I’m going to take a piss. Don’t shoot me,” the ammo tender said as he took a few paces into the meadow. When he was fi nished, Willy buttoned up his pants and started to head back. He stopped and turned back, staring into the darkness. “Schmidt! Komm! Something’s out there!”
“What is it?” Schmidt asked, getting to his feet and stretching.
“I don’t know, I thought I saw some movement out there—or heard something, I’m not sure.”
“Ah, you’re imagining things,” Schmidt said as he came alongside.
Schmidt felt it before he saw it—a slight tremble that rippled up from the ground and through his boots. He glanced at the ground then back into the meadow. He squinted. Then he saw it. It was just barely visible, a thin line of moving shapes spread out across the entire width of the meadow. He blinked.
The shapes were still there, now larger, moving toward them.
“ Meine Gute! Horses!” he sputtered. “It’s cavalry, holy shit!” He stumbled backward and tripped over Willy, who was staring into the meadow, his mouth hanging open. “Get to the gun!” Schmidt yelled. He grabbed Willy by the arm and shoved him back toward the machine gun. “Get up! Get up!” he yelled to the other gun crew who were just settling in for some sleep. “It’s cavalry! Get Kluge! Schnell! Mach schnell! ”
Schmidt scrambled behind the machine gun and grabbed the handle. He looked down the long barrel of the big gun trying to sight in on the shadowy images. They appeared to be just out of range.
Schmidt heard Kluge’s voice shouting from behind, “Hold! Hold!”
He could just make out the riders.
Schmidt’s hands trembled. The horses were getting bigger. He knew he had to wait but, goddamn it, they were getting really close. His eyes blurred and he blinked to clear them.
Kluge yelled, “Fire! Now, Fire!”
Schmidt squeezed the trigger and the big gun exploded into
Similar Books
