Breakthrough (The Red Gambit Series) (56 page)

 

085
7 hrs
, Wednesday
22nd August 1945
,
Chencun
,
China
.

 

It was bound to happen eventually, and in many ways
,
Nomori Hamuda was surprised that it had taken this long.

The
Soviet
s had supplied the captured German vehicles and manuals for their maintenance. They had also provided
qualified
manpower, in the form of captured German
Panzer-Pioniere
s,
who had little choice but to
conform.

At first
,
the Germans had been confused.

They had been captured by their deadly enemy and then shipped half a world away to service their own tanks, which were now in the possession of their ally, Imperial Japan.

Initially
,
they had ap
plied themselves and the Panzer
s had run smoothly, despite the difficulties of operating in a climate for which they were not designed.

American prisoners were suspected of sowing the initial seeds of mass discontent, informing the Germans about the new world political map, and
,
more importantly
, that Imperial Japan was no longer
their friend.

The quality of work was hit first, and the tanks started to drop out of line. Fully half of Hamuda’s First Company
was
strung out on the road back to Guiping, none lost to enemy action, engine failures robbing him of their firepower.

He had tried to encourage the mechanics, failing to secure any noticeable improvement.

Today, he would try a different tack.

 

 

Arriving at the temporary service point at
Chencun
, just east of Guigang, the lack of industry was immediately apparent, despite the presence of two of his
precious
Panthers, one with a serious transmission problem.

With the Marquis Hirohata by his side, and a squad of infantry led by Kagamutsu at his back, Hamuda approached the leader of the German mechanics,
a
Captain Bauer, formerly of the panzer maintenance company, 19th Panzer Division
,
until his capture in 1944.

Previous conversations between Hamuda and Bauer had
become
increasingly strained, not assisted by the fact that their only common language was English.

“Good morning
,
Captain,” Hamuda always addressed the Germans by their rank
, and in the case of Bauer, he gave the courtesy of a salute.

“Good
morning to you
,
Captain Hamuda,”
the absence of a salute being wholly deliberate and intended to convey the German’s position.

“I need my tanks back. When will your men have
this
two ready?”

“Three days I think, certainly not sooner.”

“That is not acceptable
,
Captain.”

“That is reality, Captain Hamuda.
The Bergepanther is fucked,

gesticulating loosely at the recovery tank sat under camouflage with its engine sat on the rear hull.

Hirohata shifted like a dog straining at his leash. His command of English was superior to Hamuda’s, but he had a different job this morning.

“What is reality is that you and your men
is failing. When we start
, a transmission was being done
d
in a day,” Bauer shru
gged, “A day maximum, Captain Bauer.
Now my tanks
are
disappear
ed
, left by the roadside
,
and your crews go back to mend
s
them and are not seen for days.”

Bauer looked up from the report he was reading and made eye contact.

“We do the best we can with what we have. We don’t have enough spare parts now and we have to manufacture many items ourselves. It all takes time.”

Hamuda looked around the maintenance site, noting the men in various stages of activity. He was no fool and very quickly understood that there was little being achieved.

“That man there,” he point
ed with his cane, “He has undo
that bolt and then tighten it twice since I have stood here. Explain.”

Bauer took a look at the man and turned his head back.

“Perhaps he finds your presence daunting and is put off
,
Herr Hauptmann?”

The look on Bauer’s face crossed the threshold of insolence in
an
instant.

“Captain Bauer. Understand this,” and Hamuda raised his voice so that any other English speakers amongst the prisoners could hear his words, “Your usefulness here
is
centres around these tanks. Your existence
is
centres around these tanks. You will keep them running or we will have no use for you. Can I make
me
any clearer?”

Both Hamuda and Hirohata detected a few reactions amongst the German audience.

“I rather doubt that you will kill any of us
,
Hamuda. We are too valuable to you. Who else would mend the tanks eh? Your men? They couldn’t maintain a fucking hard on in a brothel. We do what we can
,
as quick as we can.”

A number of sniggers came from the listeners, further proof that others listening could understand his words.

The die was cast.

Hamuda took a moment to calm himself.

“Very well. You leave me no choice.”

Moving off to one side, the tank Captain raised his voice, drawing all attention to himself.

“You men
are
been treated well and want for nothing. All we have asked is for your
most
work. Once we were Allies
,
but that has now changed.”

He sought eye contact with one of the senior NCO’s from the prisoners but the man refused it, dropping
his eyes once
more to the engine he was

servicing

.

“None the less
,
we
has being
decent to you all, and you repay us with your laziness and,” he turned to a grinning Bauer, “Your contempt.”

The grin seemed to sharpen further, becoming a full blown sneer.

“Enough. It stop now.”

He emphasised his point by sla
pping his cane against his boot, producing a sound not unlike a gun shot.

The German NCO looked up in time to witness the pre-planned act.

The slap was the signal tha
t Hirohata had been waiting for, as well as an attempt to ensure everyone’s attention was fixed on what was about to happen.

Hirohata’s
katana was out
, flashed across the intervening space,
and parted Bauer’s head from his shoulders in the blink of an eye.

The body dropped to the ground and the head, still bearing its sneer, rolled away, coming to rest in the middle of a group of mechanics
that
had been stripping down a dismantled engine.

Hamuda looked around for the surviving senior man and picked him out with a stab of his cane.


Lieutenant, y
ou
is
now responsible for my tanks,” and pointing at the headless corpse
,
he emphasised the point, “In the same way as he
is
responsible.”

He let
that
sink in before finishing up.

“Both of them will be back operational by tonight or I will return.”

Spinning on his heel
,
he nodded to Kagamutsu, who ordered his tough looking group to spread out into positions from where they could monitor the mechanics as they worked.

Hirohata wiped his blade and slid it back into the scabbard with more than usual ceremony, his face lacking any visible emotion
, and
he
followed his commander away from the scene
.

Both Panthers were ready for combat by 180
0 hrs
.

 

12
0
0 hrs
,
Wednesday,
22nd August 1945.
Headquarters, 1st Legion Brigade de Chars D’Assault ‘Camerone’,
The Rathaus,
Waldprechtsweier
,
Germany
.

 

Now that the French officers from First Army had left,
Uhlmann had taken the opport
unity to report to Knocke on his
unit

s readiness
,
and the two had enjoyed coffee together as they went over the details of
the move and the recent ‘acquisition’ of
the
ninete
en ex-Wehrmacht Panzer-Pioniere
s who had been willing to join ‘
Camerone

.

The men, mainly ex-21st Panzer Division
,
had welcomed the opportunity to serve with the ex-SS, although Uhlmann
later
admitted to his commander that he had
‘forgotten’
to tell the men that they had a choice.

Most of the new arrivals already sported the insignia of the German Legion formation, a decision that had been taken by Knocke to encourage the ‘unit’ to take root in each man’s psyche as soon as possible.

Lavalle had promised that every member of the Corps would have their insignia before the end of the month and, from the consignment that had met them when they arrived at their present location, it appeared that he was holding to his word.

Both men had been up all night
,
and both were dead on their feet, in need of sleep.

By mutual agreement
,
the meeting drew to a close and Uhlmann departed, passing on Knocke’s request not to be disturbed for two hours.

He saluted to the Polish Officer who had been chatting to one of the Brigade’s staff officers, and left to find some rest in his own billet.

The staff officer knocked on the commander’s door and received permission to enter, the tone of
the reply indicating that Knocke was
clearly less than happy with the immediate failure to observe his wishes.

After a small exchange, the Staff Captain emerged and ushered the Polish Major in to see Knocke, closing the door behind him.

Salutes were exchanged
,
and Knocke motioned the new arrival towards the seat
,
still warm from Uhlmann’s occupation.

“Coffee
,
Herr Major?”

“Not for me thank you
,
Sir.”

A second’s hesitation before Knocke decided that more caffeine was probably a good idea, and so
he
poured himself one before sitting opposite Major Kowalski.

“Captain Weiss tells me that you wished to speak privately on a
n urgent
personal matter.”

“Yes, that is true, Herr
Standartenfuhrer
.”

Knocke held his hand up immediately, failing to stop the word tumbling from Kowalski’s mouth.

“No longer of the SS, Major Kowalski. I am now Colonel of the Legion if you please. Now, what do you want of me?”

“Your compliance in a small operation
that
I am
overseeing
for my superiors.”

Alarm bells were ringing but no-one could hear them except Knocke, the tone and poise of the man opposite giving cause for immediate concern.

“But first, allow me to introduce myself.
I am Sergey Andreyevich Kovelskin, Kapitan in Soviet Military Intelligence, and here to give you a message, Herr Standartenfuhrer.”

The
Soviet
agent sneered his way through Knocke’s former rank adding, “
Oh yes I know, now
a Foreign
L
egion Colonel
. Well, n
ot to me. Once an S
S bastard, always an SS bastard as far as I am concerned.

Kowalski/
Kovelskin was holding a Walther PPK in his right hand, a fact that Knocke had only just become aware of.

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