Hitler's Winter (The Second World War Series Book 16) by Minor Stuart

Author:Minor, Stuart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-07-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen.

The wind cried as it whipped across the fields, the snow swirling amongst the files of men as they trickled out from the trees.

Jack was struggling to draw a breath as the storm raged around him, the fierce gusts snatching the air from his lungs as they shrilled along the valley.

He could barely see Reg in front of him, the men stumbling blindly beneath the night sky as the guides led the platoons forward to where, in the distance, the outline of a hill lay framed against the horizon.

Jack shielded his eyes against the lancing hail and stared at the distant ridge, the slopes black as they towered above the sea of white.

Flares were shooting across the sky as nervous sentries fired their rockets, whilst tracer fizzed from the shadows and streaked in dazzling arcs through the haze.

Stray rounds cracked high above the men as they trudged across the fields, the noise barely audible above the roar of the storm.

‘They’ll have to call off the attack,’ Reg yelled, as he glanced at Jack. ‘We can’t fight in this.’

Jack nodded, praying that his friend was right as he stared to where the vast sprawl of hills stood menacingly above the valley.

The enemy, Jack thought, could look for miles in every direction from the top of the ridge.

‘Jerry won’t need to fire a shot, he can just let the weather kill us,’ Reg shouted, his voice frustrated as he yelled against the driving wind.

Jack looked along the strung out files of soldiers as they plodded through the storm, the platoons spread wide across the valley as they made their way towards the start line.

The men moved with their heads bowed to the earth, as if they were trying to shelter behind their helmets. Their layers of clothing could not compete with the cold and they wore pained expressions, their eyes narrowed as the tears were ripped from their sockets by the stinging wind.

Jack’s feet felt as if they were burning, the hot prickling sensation making him stagger as his damp socks froze to his feet.

They needed goggles to protect their eyes and rubber boots to keep their feet dry, yet none of these things had been provided and so the men suffered beneath the night sky.

Jack looked to his left where flashing shells were thumping above an isolated hill that branched away from the ridge, the peaks separated by a gully through which the outline of a road shone like silver in the moon’s light.

Tracer and rockets were dancing from the shadows of the ridge and Jack guessed that this was the false attack that had been planned to dupe the enemy.

Jack watched as the explosions stabbed at the darkness, the flickers of light like pinpricks amongst a vast ocean as the shells swept across the slope.

He turned his gaze to the silver road, his eyes staring at the track as it passed across the valley, before vanishing into the distance where the ridge stood proud against the night sky.

That, he

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