Opening Moves

Himself a regular soldier, Ramsey would remain in the post-war army and, by dint of his many decorations, no doubt carve an illustrious career and achieve the highest ranks. A date at the Palace for the investiture of the Victoria Cross was to come but the ribbon sat proudly on his chest, as was his right.

However, for now all he wanted was to be back home and spend some time with his family in the peaceful Berkshire countryside and the opportunity to discover exactly what the freedom of the borough meant in his home village of Hungerford.

In the meantime, there were other duties and so he made sure he was immaculately turned out for the tiresome yank tank display, to which he was committed for the entire day because of the absence of his CO in Bruxelles.

Still, he thought going home would come soon enough.

Chapter 22 – THE BROTHERHOOD

Somehow our devils are never quite what we expect when we meet them face to face.

Nelson DeMille

1430 hrs Monday, 23rd July 1945, Former SS Panzer Training grounds, Paderborn, British Occupied Germany.

Without putting too fine a point on it, most officers there had probably already seen enough tanks to last a hatful of lifetimes. None the less, here they were basking in the sun on the top of a steep hill in the middle of German nowhere, watching the ‘15th US Armored Division’ exercise, and had been since 1115 hrs precisely.

From a distance, the casual observer would just see a bunch of soldiers, lacking in animation, with some more bored than others. However, closer up even the uninitiated would be able to see different uniforms and realise that officers of a number of nations were gathered together.

The exercise was American run, despite the location being in the British-held portion of Germany, and so the greater number were clearly US officers, mostly from other units as the relatively inexperienced members of “15th Armored” struggled not to make fools of themselves in front of people who had actually done it all under fire on more than one occasion.

Occupying the top of the hill was the young US Senior Officer, a Major General, holding court with a Soviet Army General of Cavalry old enough to be his father. Both had their entourages in place, alternating between making positive sounds to anyone who was in earshot and pouring coffee from huge flasks sat next to the largest mountain of sandwiches anyone had seen this side of the invasion of Poland. As in all these things, there were sycophants and kiss-asses plying their trade, but there were also some serious officers there wishing to learn, or at least observe the exercise properly.

The first scenario had been a hasty attack against a fortified hillock well defended by anti-tank guns, infantry, and artillery. Experienced observers from the US, UK and Russia conceded that the attack had gone reasonably well and might even have triumphed had there been real lead and explosive in the air.

The second exercise was nothing short of a shambles to all except the Divisional Commander and his staff, and the Russian cavalry general for that matter, or so it seemed. In the first instance, any fool could see that gathering tanks in one place, open to observation as they were, would just invite a barrage of artillery in short order. The umpires had a field day with that part. Even if that had not happened, then the choice of attacking up and over a small but pronounced ridge was not sound, as it displayed tender hull floors to any anti-tank weapon in the vicinity. More vehicles were removed at this point.

“At least the umpires are competent” was the acid aside from a British Brigadier, whose insignia indicated that he had his roots in a distinguished cavalry regiment and now had a command in 11th Armoured Division.

To be frank, it was embarrassing. The route the US Regimental commander had selected was nothing short of madness, as even the observers on the hill could see the ground turned to a marsh by a weekend of heavy rain. Sure enough, a large number of tanks bogged down, including the presentation company comprising the latest M26 Pershings.

Another of these vehicles was positioned at the bottom of the observer’s hill so that they could study it close up and even get in it if they chose, via the set of wooden steps provided. Two young Soviet junior officers were already taking in every detail, inside and out, and would submit a comprehensive report upon their return. A number of the staff officers chose to have photos taken standing in the commander’s cupola, already mentally shooting a line to their friends stateside about their time rampaging across the German countryside sweeping all before them.

The third exercise had apparently been planned as an armoured wedge attack but it would never start unless the debacle of the second attack was sorted out, and no one seemed in a position to get to grips with it.