Fury of the Tiger by Eric Meyer

Author:Eric Meyer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: nazi, world war 2, war, waffen ss, tiger tank, sherman tank
Publisher: Swordworks Books

Chapter Six

Chateau La Roche Guyon, Normandy, France - Rommel's Headquarters, 05.15, June 19, 1944

The famous face wore a grim expression. "What the hell is going on? I have spoken to the Fuhrer, and he demands immediate action. Now!"

As he spoke, he banged the map table, and the staff officers around him flinched. Most were damp from the heavy rain that had lashed Normandy for the past few days. They'd mostly traveled in open staff cars, some in Kubelwagen jeeps, which was fine on a warm summer’s day. Not like now, the journeys had been sheer bloody misery in such stormy, wet weather the entire region had experienced, and now this. Erwin Rommel, no less, adding to their misery with the fury of his anger.

The setting was incongruous, a French chateau, luxuriously furnished in Louis Quinze furniture, gilt mirrors, and a huge Ormelieu clock on the mantel. Rommel had complained it was more like a whorehouse than Army Headquarters. He stared at his Chief of Staff.

"Ernst, do you want to know what action the Fuhrer authorized me to take for officers who appear to fail in their duty?"

"No, Herr Feldmarschal."

"A firing squad! No court hearing, no defense, he told me to just take out the offender and shoot him. And that's what I intend to do, unless you light a fire under our troops."

He stared around the room, and a junior officer glared back at him.

"Well?"

"It's not all our fault, Sir. Headquarters failed to release the heavy Panzer battalions! We could have beaten the Allies back if we'd had the tools to do the job."

"Perhaps you'd better take your objections to the Fuhrer!" The man looked away, "I thought not. It's no use crying over it now. We have the Panzer Lehr Division fully engaged, and they're hitting the enemy hard at Tilly-sur-Seulle. If they win, we shall be in a position to retake Carentan. It is as you know is the key to the entire Cotentin Peninsula, to Normandy itself."

"Panzer Lehr will not fail," a Panzer liaison officer, a Wehrmacht Major insisted, "Herr Feldmarschal, you know those crews are the best we have, and their armor is second to none. Tigers, King Tigers, Panthers."

"Panzer IVs as well," another officer muttered drily.

The Major flushed. "Panzer IVs, yes, but they're still better than anything the Allies can throw at us. However, the Tigers and Panthers will carry the day, Sir. They're unbeatable."

"Yet we're still falling back, still losing tanks and men," Rommel countered, his voice low, "You've heard of these new Shermans, the Fireflies?"

The Major turned a deep shade of purple. "We've heard of them, of course. They carry a 17-pounder gun, which I admit can penetrate and destroy our heavy armor. We've begged the Luftwaffe repeatedly to overfly the battlefield and destroy them. Where are they? Perhaps Reichsmarshall Goering can tell us."

"The Eastern Front," Rommel said casually.

Every man shuddered at the phrase that conjured up so much blood and suffering. It was their perpetual nightmare, a transfer to the fighting in Russia, slowly moving eastward, nearer to the Reich.

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