Against all odds, p.4
Against all Odds,
p.4
Byrd paused, uncertain what to do, but Cassidy was glancing from one to the other, looking around the underground cavern, and he had an idea. “Do as he says, Harry.”
“You’re kidding me. The guy’s a murderous thug. The second we drop our guns, he’ll pull the trigger.”
“Harry, trust me. It’ll be okay. Put the rifle down.”
He shrugged. “I trust you, but you’d better be right.”
With an exasperated grunt, he placed the Garand on the stone floor. Ray did the same and stared at the German, who wore a look of amused satisfaction.
“You poor fools, did you honestly believe I’d let you live after what you’ve done here? You could have weakened our defenses, and we’d have had no choice but to flee to the east. But you failed, and when your troops arrive, they will meet the full force of the SS. American corpses will be stacked like cordwood on the approaches to the town, and your troops will have no option but to retreat. All the way back to the Normandy beaches.”
Ray gestured toward the Russian prisoners. “What about them? What happens when you’ve finished with them?”
“They’re Russians,” he snorted, his voice ringing with contempt. Why should I care what happens to them? After the battle, we will continue to use them as slave laborers, until they die from lack of food or disease.”
“You want to see them dead?”
“I told you they are Russians. Subhumans.”
“They look pretty human to me. And I’ll bet they’re just aching for the chance to rip you apart.”
He looked around as the scarecrows and belly laughed. “They are scum, of no consequence.”
He laughed again, but he’d made a mistake. Enlisted men didn’t carry a sidearm, not in most armies in the world. Unless they’d picked a Luger 9mm off the ground after they’d killed the owner. Ray dived a hand to his belt, snatched out the gun, and when the German turned back to him, he was looking into the muzzle of a loaded weapon.
“Time for you to drop your gun, pal. Nice and gentle, put it on the floor.”
He didn’t move. “You will kill me if I do.”
“Yeah, as I recall we’ve switched places. Except I’m not a piece of Nazi shit, and when I give my word, I keep it. Put it down, and I won’t kill you.”
He hesitated and finally put it down. “Now what?”
“Back up.”
“What?”
“Take two steps back.”
He shrugged. “Very well.” He stepped backward, into the jaws of death. The Nazi had forgotten about the Russians, about the men he’d called subhuman, but they hadn’t forgotten him. Hands clutched at him, dragged him down, and he screamed, “You said you wouldn’t kill me!”
“That’s right.”
He spat out blood and teeth after several boots smashed into his mouth. “But, this isn’t right. I am an SS-Oberführer, you cannot allow these men to kill…oh, it hurts! Stop these men.”
“What’s the problem? A moment ago they were subhumans, yet suddenly they’re men. Which is it?”
“They’re men,” he screamed, “They’re killing me.”
“That’s the general idea. So long, shithead.” He looked at the Russians. “Does anyone speak English?”
Two heads nodded. “Okay, when you’ve had your fun, we’re planning to blow up this place, and it’ll happen soon. Get out of here and head west. You’ll find American troops to take care of you.”
The emaciated prisoner nodded his thanks. “We are grateful, American.”
“No problem, you can thank our guys when you get to safety.”
“I was thanking you for him.” He pointed at the SS officer, now battered, bloodied, and bleeding on the floor as the Russians fell on him like a pack of wolves and savaged him, “He didn’t deserve to live.”
“No, he didn’t. There’re plenty of weapons and ammo in this place. Grab what you need and get out. Don’t forget, head west.”
The man offered his hand and nodded toward the dying SS man. “Again, my thanks.”
He left until, ignored the cries of the Nazi officer, and began looking for timers and detonators. There was no shortage. In one corner they found what they needed, demolition charges intended for the destruction of bridges and other strategic targets to block the American advance. Except now, they’d use them to accelerate the American advance. Harry stacked sticks of dynamite on top of a rack of shells, and he adjusted the timer.
“I reckon a half-hour should do it.”
“You’ve been blown up twice. Maybe you should make it longer.”
“It’s almost dawn, and our men are about to attack the city.”
“A half-hour it is, knock yourself out.”
He started the countdown, and they rushed up the sloping passage to the doorway outside. The platoon was waiting for them, guns out in case more SS decided to try their luck.
Horton gave him a questioning glance. “What happened in there?”
“Lt, it’s what’s about to happen in less than a half-hour. A big bang, and if it works like we think, half this town will disappear, along with the Nazi bastards who think they’re lining up to kill our men.”
He was still absorbing the news when Logan spoke, his voice urgent. “Sir, we need to get out of here. And I’m talking now. We don’t have long.”
They ran, racing back to the bridge they’d crossed when they entered the town, and they were waiting on the other side when it happened. The earth trembled and shook as if by a giant hand. The blast was like the eruption of a volcano, spewing smoke, fire, and huge chunks of stone into the sky. It took several minutes for the cascade of debris to subside and the smoke to clear, and looking back it became clear they’d done what they came there to do.
Logan was smiling, probably thinking of their narrow escape from death. “Tell me, what happened to that SS officer?”
“Oberführer Otto Baum? I captured him and handed him over.”
“The bastard deserved to die for what he did. I’d like to have put a bullet in him myself.”
“I reckon we all would, Sarge. But those men I handed him to had the same idea.”
“And who was that?”
“The Russian prisoners. The last I saw they ripped him into dog meat.”
Horton shot him an angry glance. “I’m not sure he deserved what they’d have done to him.”
He stared back at him, and it had been a hard fight that came close to disaster. “Lieutenant Horton, I’d like to make one thing clear.”
“What’s that?”
“I couldn’t give a shit what he deserved.”
“You…”
He started to protest, but Sergeant Logan interrupted. “I’d leave it there, Lieutenant. We’re alive, the Germans aren’t, and we finished what we came here to do.”
Ray grinned. “Amen to that.”
Eric Meyer, Against all Odds
