died in his throat. Habicht was holding a pistol pointed directly at him.
‘What the devil, Habicht,’ he began, his face suddenly contorted with terror.
He never finished the sentence. The pistol kicked in the Hawk’s hand, shattering the silence of the night. Kreuz screamed and flew backwards through the night, the blood seeping through his shattered guts. Calmly Habicht walked over to where he lay in the suddenly darkened snow and placed his pistol against the side of Kreuz’s head. His face expressionless, he blew his skull apart.
‘Major Kreuz has just met with a fatal accident,’ he said to the running sentries, alarmed by the shooting. They stopped short and looked down at the mutilated body, lying crumpled in the ever-growing red star of its own blood, their young eyes wide with shock and bewilderment.
‘You’d better throw some snow over him or something,’ Habicht said carelessly. ‘I wouldn’t like the men to see him like that at dawn.’
Up in front, Habicht’s oddly assorted reconnaissance team had hit trouble. Just before dusk they had reached the river which formed the Russian second-line around the western suburbs of Budapest. No way across was apparent and to make matters worse, as soon as it had grown really dark, the Russians had switched on huge searchlights, which probed the night with long fingers. They abandoned the jeep, which was too conspicuous, and vanished into the snow-heavy pine forest which lined the western bank of the unknown river.
Now the three of them crawled ever closer to a little ford which the Jew knew of. It, too, was illuminated, but according to Janosz unguarded. Between the trees they could make out the river across which searchlights threw sinister patterns at ten second intervals.
‘What do you think, Ikey?’
The little Jew stroked his beard thoughtfully. ‘You need me, Sergeant-Major. I need you. You will be able to get through the river and beyond the wire before the searchlights illuminate it again. I am too slow, too old, too frail –’
‘Knock it off,’ Schulze interrupted him brutally. ‘You’ll have me breaking down and crying in a minute, you short-cocked kike!’
Janosz continued imperturbably: ‘I shall send you, Sergeant-Major to get through the barbed wire, where you will leave our Chinese friend here. Then, you put out those search lights and our friend here will come back and fetch me.’
Schulze looked at him open-mouthed. ‘And why,’ he asked finally, ‘should a senior non-commissioned officer of the Armed SS and his Chink servant come back and collect one scruffy docked-tailed Yid who we don’t need any more, eh?’
The Jew smiled, as if at the folly of human understanding. ‘But you do need him, Sergeant-Major. My dear German friend, you might just want to come out again,’ he hesitated for only a fraction of a second, ‘and who will there be to show you the way?’
‘You!’
‘Exactly.’
Behind them, Chink beamed and said: ‘Jew, him pretty smart feller.’
Jonasz the Pedlar allowed himself another smile.
Note
1. SS Cavalry Unit.
FIVE
Schulze waded cautiously through the shallows hoping the faint hollow boom of the guns at the front would hide the noise. Behind him Chink, laden down with the radio, struggled in the freezingly cold current.
Schulze clambered up the bank and tugged Chink up with one heave of his powerful shoulders.
‘Right, you slant-eyed devil, as soon as those twin searchlights have moved on, I’m going to double for the wire. When I’m over it, you should hear a couple of shots. That’ll be me knocking out the lamps.’ Chink nodded. ‘Then you pull your yellow finger out of your yellow arse and run back like hell to fetch the Yid. Don’t forget to bring the radio with you when you come over the wire.’
‘Chink now savvy.’
‘Thank Christ for that,’ Schulze said and directed his attention to the twin searchlights. Their beams did not always coordinate but he reckoned he
‘What the devil, Habicht,’ he began, his face suddenly contorted with terror.
He never finished the sentence. The pistol kicked in the Hawk’s hand, shattering the silence of the night. Kreuz screamed and flew backwards through the night, the blood seeping through his shattered guts. Calmly Habicht walked over to where he lay in the suddenly darkened snow and placed his pistol against the side of Kreuz’s head. His face expressionless, he blew his skull apart.
‘Major Kreuz has just met with a fatal accident,’ he said to the running sentries, alarmed by the shooting. They stopped short and looked down at the mutilated body, lying crumpled in the ever-growing red star of its own blood, their young eyes wide with shock and bewilderment.
‘You’d better throw some snow over him or something,’ Habicht said carelessly. ‘I wouldn’t like the men to see him like that at dawn.’
Up in front, Habicht’s oddly assorted reconnaissance team had hit trouble. Just before dusk they had reached the river which formed the Russian second-line around the western suburbs of Budapest. No way across was apparent and to make matters worse, as soon as it had grown really dark, the Russians had switched on huge searchlights, which probed the night with long fingers. They abandoned the jeep, which was too conspicuous, and vanished into the snow-heavy pine forest which lined the western bank of the unknown river.
Now the three of them crawled ever closer to a little ford which the Jew knew of. It, too, was illuminated, but according to Janosz unguarded. Between the trees they could make out the river across which searchlights threw sinister patterns at ten second intervals.
‘What do you think, Ikey?’
The little Jew stroked his beard thoughtfully. ‘You need me, Sergeant-Major. I need you. You will be able to get through the river and beyond the wire before the searchlights illuminate it again. I am too slow, too old, too frail –’
‘Knock it off,’ Schulze interrupted him brutally. ‘You’ll have me breaking down and crying in a minute, you short-cocked kike!’
Janosz continued imperturbably: ‘I shall send you, Sergeant-Major to get through the barbed wire, where you will leave our Chinese friend here. Then, you put out those search lights and our friend here will come back and fetch me.’
Schulze looked at him open-mouthed. ‘And why,’ he asked finally, ‘should a senior non-commissioned officer of the Armed SS and his Chink servant come back and collect one scruffy docked-tailed Yid who we don’t need any more, eh?’
The Jew smiled, as if at the folly of human understanding. ‘But you do need him, Sergeant-Major. My dear German friend, you might just want to come out again,’ he hesitated for only a fraction of a second, ‘and who will there be to show you the way?’
‘You!’
‘Exactly.’
Behind them, Chink beamed and said: ‘Jew, him pretty smart feller.’
Jonasz the Pedlar allowed himself another smile.
Note
1. SS Cavalry Unit.
FIVE
Schulze waded cautiously through the shallows hoping the faint hollow boom of the guns at the front would hide the noise. Behind him Chink, laden down with the radio, struggled in the freezingly cold current.
Schulze clambered up the bank and tugged Chink up with one heave of his powerful shoulders.
‘Right, you slant-eyed devil, as soon as those twin searchlights have moved on, I’m going to double for the wire. When I’m over it, you should hear a couple of shots. That’ll be me knocking out the lamps.’ Chink nodded. ‘Then you pull your yellow finger out of your yellow arse and run back like hell to fetch the Yid. Don’t forget to bring the radio with you when you come over the wire.’
‘Chink now savvy.’
‘Thank Christ for that,’ Schulze said and directed his attention to the twin searchlights. Their beams did not always coordinate but he reckoned he
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