Climax Europa: Book 12 of the Blitzkrieg Alternate Series by Max Lamirande

Author:Max Lamirande [Lamirande, Max]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Obsidian Press
Published: 2023-01-30T00:00:00+00:00

Beachhead

General Patton’s army crosses the Rhine December 19th, 1947

Walder’s panzer adventured cautiously on the makeshift bridge made by the American engineers the night before. Russian tracers from the east bank raced around them, hitting the bridge and the water around it. For a moment, he didn’t know if he would survive the enemy shelling as artillery shells fell near his panzer, throwing great sprouts of water that showered back on the Germano-American troops on the bridge.

Just as the enemy fire was getting closer to his area (he was in the first third of the bridge), a flight of Typhoon and Tempest fighter-bombers thundered above them and loosened their rockets in great grey-red lances. A few seconds later, balls of fire blossomed all across the east bank, shrouding the Russian defenders in a mist, smoke, dirt, and an inferno of heat and death.

The bridge was dangerously sinking into the water, having been hit too many times by the enemy. A pontoon bridge (or ponton bridge), also known as a floating bridge, used floating or shallow-draft boats to support a continuous deck for the soldiers and tanks crossing a body of water. The super heavy German tanks trying to cross already stressed the buoyancy of the structure, and now with the holes created by the Soviet ordinance, it was sinking.

Seeing the tanks in front of him distancing themselves from his own machine, he pushed his driver. “Damn you, Yanke, hurry up!” Walder noticed that the panzer was not at full speed. The man had been prudent because of the hazardous nature of the bridge. Too cautious, in fact. “Yawol, commander,” said the man, pushing the gas to the maximum. The Tiger lurched forward and splashed water on both sides of its tracks as the water rose quickly over the now sinking pontoon.

The panzer caught up with the other tank before him a minute later. Within another few seconds, it finally crossed over a still-floating section of the bridge. “Good job, Yanke,” said Erich, just a moment before the tank got slammed hard by an enemy artillery shell. The whole machine rocked since it was hit on the turret. The hit shrouded the German panzer in a gust of dark smoke, and debris scattered all around the water. The bridge itself temporarily sank into the water as the ripple effect of the concussion wave pushed it down. More debris scattered. Walder’s tank ground to a halt, and everyone in the machine was temporarily stunned.

Erich’s ears rang like a bell during Sunday mass, but he could see that Hans, his young gifted gunner, was still at his post. The kid pushed the firing pedal and launched a shell at some unseen enemy on the other side of the Rhine. Walder wondered why Stromer was not dazed like the other. Then he remembered why. The young soldier had earplugs and, while everyone had made fun of him, said that it would save his hearing and one day help him in battle.

He tried to shrug off his dizziness and croaked orders to Yanke to keep going forward.

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