Dunkirk Crescendo by Bodie Thoene & Brock Thoene

Author:Bodie Thoene & Brock Thoene [Thoene, Bodie & Thoene, Brock]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: www.FamilyAudioLibrary.com
Published: 2009-06-12T05:00:00+00:00

Horst watched the SS soldiers streaming away from the Arras battlefield. He felt a curious sense of satisfaction at their precipitate retreat, as if every doubt he had about their vaunted courage was confirmed. Himmler had insisted they be included in the conduct of the Blitzkrieg so they would share in the glory. Evidently Reichsführer Himmler had thought the campaign was so well in hand that his untried troops could not fail. Instead they now jeopardized the entire operation.

Colonel Neumann, commanding a Seventh Panzer tank battalion, arrived on the scene. He stood upright in the turret of his PzKw-IV tank, commenting to Horst on the scene before them. “Look at those dogs run! It seems that enthusiasm for the party one week does not make for heroic actions the next. They would run all the way back to Germany, and perhaps we should let them!”

Neumann was waiting for an intelligence report from Horst’s motorcycle patrol before leading his tanks in a flank assault of his own. He was to strike the center of the Allied line, split it, and then chew up the broken halves. The problem was the light. It was nearing seven o’clock in the evening—already too late for more Stuka attacks and soon too dim for tanks.

Neumann did not seem concerned. “We will pierce the line; then we will pinch the first half into a pocket to destroy at leisure. The rest will certainly retreat.” He said something to his driver, and the deeply rumbling engine revved up.

“Do you not want to wait for my lieutenant to get back from recon, Colonel? We don’t know what else is behind those Matildas in the cover of the trees.”

The colonel squinted at the setting sun, then shook his head. “We can deal with whatever it is. Right now the determining factor is daylight.” Neumann gave the order to his column of tanks to attack, and the PzKw-IV ground into forward motion, its tracks clanking. He was wasting no time. The muzzle of the 75 mm gun was already swiveling, seeking its first target.

The tank plunged down the hill. At almost the same moment, Lieutenant Borger arrived beside Horst. “Recon report, Major,” he said, saluting. “Warn Colonel Neumann that there are a couple squadrons of French Somua tanks concealed behind the farthest hedgerow and two or three tank destroyer units just emerging from the woods. I do not know if they are French or British.”

Horst turned to the handset of the radio that Sergeant Fiske was already offering. Still in Horst’s line of sight, Neumann was no more than a hundred yards forward. The tall colonel was still standing; he had not yet buttoned up the hatch.

The first round of antitank fire struck the PzKw-III that was immediately behind Neumann’s tank. The projectile shattered against the sloping armor, but the burst reached out in a deadly star-shaped pattern to embrace the colonel. His back was riddled with shrapnel. When he slumped over the hatch, his body pivoted limply and he hung on the edge of the turret.

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