Read Online Red Inferno: 1945 by Robert Conroy - Free Book Online Page A

Unfortunately, those cars always belonged to someone else, and the owners had objected to Tony’s taking them and selling them, which was why he found himself in the army four years ago at the age of eighteen. The judge had given him a choice: enlist or go to jail. To compound Tony’s problem, Pearl Harbor had occurred while he was finishing basic training. Over the years, Tony had seen the good and the bad of army life, and it seemed to him that this little foray of Brentwood’s seemed downright silly, even dangerous, under the circumstances.
    In Tony’s opinion, the colonel was disobeying orders from higher up. He had heard Brentwood explain on the radio, to some captain in the group, that all he was going to do was make sure the area was safe before halting, but everyone knew that was just an excuse for continuing on. Orders or not, Brentwood was going into Berlin if only a few feet, and he’d take his chances on getting his ass chewed later. In another of Tony’s opinions, Brentwood doubtless thought that a shot at glory would far outweigh any risk of disciplinary action. Brentwood wanted to run for Congress after the war, and being the first American in Berlin would be a good way to start. There had been no further radio contact for several minutes and Tony had the damndest feeling that Brentwood had disabled the radio.
    Tony was driving with the hatch open and his head and shoulders outside. This gave him an excellent view forward, although he could not see the eleven other tanks behind or the twenty lightly armored half-tracks that, full of infantry, followed the tanks. The area had been quiet and he was not particularly concerned about snipers.
    “Hey, Toad.” It was Ernie the gunner. “What do you see?”
    “Eva Braun dancing naked and calling out for you to fuck her,” Tony responded. If Ernie wanted to see what was in front, all he had to do was open the turret hatch and look. Fortunately for Tony, Brentwood usually ignored such idle banter between his crew. Brentwood was not totally stupid and knew it helped keep them sane.
    The tank moved around a charred building, and there was a great deal of open space before it. In the distance, Tony could see a number of shapes and he stopped the tank abruptly, causing everyone to lurch forward and swear. “Tanks!” he yelled.
    “Jesus,” Brentwood said. “How many do you make, Corporal?”
    Tony started counting and also started shaking. “I see thirty but there may be more coming through the dust.”
    “Where the hell did the Germans get them?” Brentwood muttered. There was a degree of silence as the rest of the column had halted behind Tony’s lead tank.
    “Sir,” Tony said, an unsettling fear filling him. “They aren’t German. Those are Russians. That silhouette belongs to a T34.”
    “Bullshit,” the colonel said. “The Reds can’t be this far west. Those are German Panthers, not T34s. They just look a lot alike.”
    Tony admitted that possibility. Their silhouettes were very similar from a distance. A spotter plane radioed that a large number of tanks was headed toward them, but didn’t specify nationality.
    Brentwood prudently ordered them to take up defensive positions. What had started out as a public relations stunt now had the potential to be a disaster.
    Tony was shaking. This had all the earmarks of a bloody mistake. “Sir, I still think those are Commies.”
    Brentwood was puzzled. The dust kicked up by the approaching tanks obscured any insignia. “We can’t take chances. They have to be German. We’ll treat them as if they are the enemy.”
    And even if they are, we’re in deep shit, Tony thought. Even though many of the American Sherman tanks had been improved with a higher-velocity main gun, they still didn’t stand a chance against a Panther. Or a T34 for that matter.
    The unknown tanks were in range. Tony saw a flash of light. Was it gunfire? Were the other tanks shooting at them?
    “Goddamn Germans are shooting at