The Evader by Thomas Wood

Author:Thomas Wood [Wood, Thomas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781916413832
Publisher: BoleynBennett Publishing
Published: 2019-08-01T22:00:00+00:00

19

It did not take long for the Germans to make their presence felt. The mortars that had thrown explosives towards us before were forced into overload, doubling their output alongside the reinforcements and additional tubes they now must have had. It was a constant curtain of explosives that rained down on us heavier than a November downpour, as soon as three hit the ground, another three would be sending their ground-shaking tremors through the whole house.

All of a sudden, I felt quite weightless, like one does when you go swimming and all your mass seems to be removed by the up thrust of the water. I felt myself hit the ceiling before falling with a sobering crack back onto the floor of the farmhouse, and I felt quite lucky to not have been sent through the hole in the floor that was now precariously waiting to suck people in towards the kitchen below.

By the time I came round and pulled myself back up, the German advance was in full swing. They were using their armoured vehicles in much the same way as I would have done, three of them advancing slowly across the field, as a creeping barrage of mortars was kept consistent as they advanced, the infantry hiding behind the great behemoths that were looming towards us. Fortunately for us, they weren’t tanks, but some sort of half-track, a vehicle with reinforced wheels at the front, but with tank tracks to the rear of the vehicle, usually used for pulling heavy artillery or anti-aircraft guns. Today, they were basically being used as a battering ram, something that the fragile men could hide behind, before fanning out and really getting stuck in to us.

I assumed that the half-tracks would stop just short of the farm and let the infantry take care of everything, until the farm was secure, before parking up somewhere on the farm. They were too valuable and not well enough protected to take into the heat of a battle. I marvelled at them for a while, as I struggled to regain the delight of hearing, but was sickened to the very pit of my stomach when I watched as they trundled over their dead trivially, not even attempting to negotiate around them. I readjusted my eyes, looking for the first man that I had put away before, only to discover that he was no longer above ground, but now more of an imprint in the field where he once lay.

I couldn’t believe their barbarity and began immediately firing off round after round from my rifle in anger, the Enfield kicking and bucking around like a furious donkey, trying to get someone off his back. It pummelled into my shoulder again and again, as I went through the repetitive motions of pulling the bolt backwards, letting the round out and forcing it back forwards again. I carried on until I had no rounds left, at which point I threw myself on the ground to reload.

I noticed that four or five others were doing the same, but not to reload.

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