Opening Moves

The three huddled together in what used to be the kitchen and waited for his return, ears keenly reaching out to every sound.

The jeep ground its way noisily back from the direction of the river and then the night became silent once more.

With ears straining, the three became aware of the purposeful approach of footsteps coming up the lane from Enns itself. Braun risked a quick look and was rewarded with the unmistakable silhouette of Pförzer bearing down on the building, accompanied by another less bulky but unmistakably armed figure.

Pförzer strode past, silently gesturing them to follow, and took them further into the blackened ruin, pulling aside a bookcase and indicating steps which obviously led into a cellar.

Rolf wondered why they had not been shown this hideaway at first, but reasoned that Pförzer was just being cautious in case they had drawn unwanted attention from some passing patrol.

The mysterious figure was last to descend and pulled a heavy curtain across the entrance, keeping apart from the group. Pförzer rummaged briefly in the dark but soon a lighter brought life to a candle and the whole cellar was gently bathed in its yellow glow, sufficient to see a stack of tarpaulins, life preservers, rolls of telephone wire and signals equipment, box sets of vehicle tools and numerous kitbags stuffed with god knows what, all very obviously formerly US Army property. The sole thing in view that did not once belong to Uncle Sam was undoubtedly the SturmGewehr 44 on a wall mount adjacent to the stairs.

All these things were taken in quickly, because as the group slowly adjusted their vision, they only had eyes for the new arrival, or more precisely the M1Carbine he was holding, which was pointed directly at Uhlmann. The man was not tall but he was certainly solidly built and his shaven head, revealing obvious scars on the line under his cap, made him look all the more threatening.

There was a protracted and extremely awkward silence.

Pförzer broke it.

“This is my good friend and business partner John. I have told him a little of what you have told me, enough to get him here to listen. Please now tell him the full story Herr Maior.”

Uhlmann took the cue from that, mentally setting aside any reference to the SS. None the less, he looked at Pförzer questioningly.

“Schwartz speaks our language like he was born here, which he apparently was.”

And so Uhlmann began.

The muzzle of the carbine slowly dropped the further Uhlmann got into his story until the weapon was pointed at the ground and the holder’s jaw was almost as low.

The American snapped out of it quickly and spoke in surprisingly good German.

“That is some story Major, or is it Sturmbannfuhrer?” Even though Pförzer had not complicated matters by telling his partner that they were former SS, the man was obviously intelligent enough to work it out. “Relax; we can do the good guy, bad guy bit later.” His outstretched left hand gently waved up and down in a placatory motion.

“I’m sure we would have heard something from Intel on this.”

There was no conviction in the statement.

The Major’s uniform was clean but worn, and he was obviously a combat soldier. Such animals do not always trust in Intel and it was obvious in his eyes that he believed what he had just been told and to hell with the lack of Intel.

“We gotta get this up the line and fast. Hub reckons you need to speak to the General tonight and I have to agree. Gonna be tricky so I gotta think a’whiles.”

The American paused, looking at the three men before him.

“Any of you speak English?”

Braun chirped up immediately and received a nod of acknowledgement from Schwartz.

A moment’s hesitation before he turned to the big Austrian. “You got fatigues and such shit in them kitbags ain’t you Hub?”

A nod and a grin confirmed both that there were uniforms available and that Pförzer had cottoned on to the idea.

Each kitbag held two sets of uniform, from boots through to shirt and tie. Hub rejected the first two bags he opened, preferring the contents of the third and fifth bags. His thinking was that rank opened doors better, so he selected three sets of officers clothing, making sure that Uhlmann got the Captain’s uniform. Size was a good match for both Uhlmann and Braun but Shandruk needed further rummages before a pair of trousers that suited his smaller frame was found.

Three belts and holsters were located and thrown to each in turn.

In his amused state Schwartz reverted to his native tongue, “Hell but you lot look some stiff mother-fuckers! Lighten up folks!” Stiff they certainly were. Perhaps it was natural, given that they were ex-SS wearing another army’s uniforms, about to try and break through a security cordon to inform a former enemy General that another former enemy was about to launch a full scale attack at any minute.