the radio operator’s cracked hoarse voice was the only sound in the little stone barn. ‘Great Hawk do you read me…we need Otto urgently.’
Habicht, standing next to Kreuz, seemed unconcerned that Europa had been unable to raise Division – ‘Great Hawk’ – all day, and that there was no ‘Otto’ – fuel – forthcoming. But Kreuz knew that inwardly the C.O. was worried. They had slipped through the Russian lines quite easily, and now they would make their last dash for Budapest. But to what purpose, if there was no Division Viking to follow them up?
With a sigh the radio operator took off his sticky headphones and turned to face Habicht, dark violet circles under his blood shot eyes. ‘Sir, I don’t think I’d raise them if I tried till I was blue in the face. It’s almost as if they’re not there, sir,’ he ended a little desperately.
‘Of course Division is there!’ Habicht snapped. ‘Try again, man!’
Reluctantly the radio operator put on his earphones once more, while Habicht dismissed his young officers.
‘What about you, Kreuz?’ Habicht asked, when his second- in-command showed no signs of moving.
Major Kreuz had had enough. He was not a professional soldier like Habicht. He had joined the pre-war Berlin Reitersturm 1 of the SS because it was the chic thing to do. In this way he had come to the SS and he had fought their battles loyally enough throughout the war. But he had not the self-sacrificing fanaticism of the regular SS officer. Now he wanted to save his skin while there was still time.
‘ Obersturmbannführer , I would like to speak to you – outside.’
Habicht looked at him curiously and nodded agreement. Slowly they walked through the sleeping village, the only sound the crisp slow tread of the sentries on the hard snow. Kreuz stopped and faced his commander.
‘Habicht, you must be realistic.’
Habicht looked at the pale, unshaven, self-indulgent face in the cold-blue light of the moon and knew his second-in-command was deathly afraid. ‘What do you mean, Major – realistic?’
‘About the Division. We couldn’t get the Division, because it is simply not there.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Look at the horizon, to the west.’
‘I see nothing.’
‘ Exactly , Habicht. For the simple reason that the Division has pulled out – isn’t that obvious?’
‘Impossible,’ Habicht snapped icily. ‘Absolutely impossible!’ In sudden anger Kreuz went the whole way. ‘The offensive has failed, I tell you, and we are all risking our necks for nothing.’ He stared at the tall C.O., his face flushed with emotion.
‘You and your precious neck,’ Habicht said contemptuously. ‘We are exactly ten kilometres away from Budapest now. So far Schulze has done his job. With the same luck tomorrow, we could well be in the capital by nightfall.’
Kreuz stared at him aghast. ‘You’re crazy, Habicht! You have lost all contact with reality,’ he exploded, knowing now that there was no turning back; he had said it. ‘There is no bloody follow-up! We will be just joining the rest of the poor bastards trapped there by the Russians.’
‘We shall have made history,’ Habicht harked, iron in his voice. ‘ Europa will have led the first successful German offensive for nearly two years.’
‘Do you really think anyone cares? You might want to waste your life, Habicht, but I’m not going to let you waste mine and those of all your young men. I don’t suffer from your kind of death wish.’
‘What do you mean, Kreuz?’
‘I mean that I am going to rouse the officers out of their beds and tell them what the real situation is. I shall recommend to them that the Regiment should withdraw, while there is still time, to our lines at Bickse.’
‘That is mutiny!’
‘Not when one is led by a maniac. And don’t believe you can frighten me with the threat of a court-martial. Germany is falling apart too quickly for that to worry me. You can’t stop…’
His voice
Habicht, standing next to Kreuz, seemed unconcerned that Europa had been unable to raise Division – ‘Great Hawk’ – all day, and that there was no ‘Otto’ – fuel – forthcoming. But Kreuz knew that inwardly the C.O. was worried. They had slipped through the Russian lines quite easily, and now they would make their last dash for Budapest. But to what purpose, if there was no Division Viking to follow them up?
With a sigh the radio operator took off his sticky headphones and turned to face Habicht, dark violet circles under his blood shot eyes. ‘Sir, I don’t think I’d raise them if I tried till I was blue in the face. It’s almost as if they’re not there, sir,’ he ended a little desperately.
‘Of course Division is there!’ Habicht snapped. ‘Try again, man!’
Reluctantly the radio operator put on his earphones once more, while Habicht dismissed his young officers.
‘What about you, Kreuz?’ Habicht asked, when his second- in-command showed no signs of moving.
Major Kreuz had had enough. He was not a professional soldier like Habicht. He had joined the pre-war Berlin Reitersturm 1 of the SS because it was the chic thing to do. In this way he had come to the SS and he had fought their battles loyally enough throughout the war. But he had not the self-sacrificing fanaticism of the regular SS officer. Now he wanted to save his skin while there was still time.
‘ Obersturmbannführer , I would like to speak to you – outside.’
Habicht looked at him curiously and nodded agreement. Slowly they walked through the sleeping village, the only sound the crisp slow tread of the sentries on the hard snow. Kreuz stopped and faced his commander.
‘Habicht, you must be realistic.’
Habicht looked at the pale, unshaven, self-indulgent face in the cold-blue light of the moon and knew his second-in-command was deathly afraid. ‘What do you mean, Major – realistic?’
‘About the Division. We couldn’t get the Division, because it is simply not there.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Look at the horizon, to the west.’
‘I see nothing.’
‘ Exactly , Habicht. For the simple reason that the Division has pulled out – isn’t that obvious?’
‘Impossible,’ Habicht snapped icily. ‘Absolutely impossible!’ In sudden anger Kreuz went the whole way. ‘The offensive has failed, I tell you, and we are all risking our necks for nothing.’ He stared at the tall C.O., his face flushed with emotion.
‘You and your precious neck,’ Habicht said contemptuously. ‘We are exactly ten kilometres away from Budapest now. So far Schulze has done his job. With the same luck tomorrow, we could well be in the capital by nightfall.’
Kreuz stared at him aghast. ‘You’re crazy, Habicht! You have lost all contact with reality,’ he exploded, knowing now that there was no turning back; he had said it. ‘There is no bloody follow-up! We will be just joining the rest of the poor bastards trapped there by the Russians.’
‘We shall have made history,’ Habicht harked, iron in his voice. ‘ Europa will have led the first successful German offensive for nearly two years.’
‘Do you really think anyone cares? You might want to waste your life, Habicht, but I’m not going to let you waste mine and those of all your young men. I don’t suffer from your kind of death wish.’
‘What do you mean, Kreuz?’
‘I mean that I am going to rouse the officers out of their beds and tell them what the real situation is. I shall recommend to them that the Regiment should withdraw, while there is still time, to our lines at Bickse.’
‘That is mutiny!’
‘Not when one is led by a maniac. And don’t believe you can frighten me with the threat of a court-martial. Germany is falling apart too quickly for that to worry me. You can’t stop…’
His voice
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