Chapter 353
When he slowly awoke again Field Marshal Alexander's first conscious thought was that he tasted his own blood and the second one was that he was...somewhere.
He shook his head and then it all came back to him. Around him the the seven men of his twelve-man escort that were still alive and/or able to fight were taking cover in the ditch they had dragged him into.
Gunfire was still coming from the other side of the road so he declined to look over the edge. It looked as if he had been knocked on the head somehow when the first shots had been fired but he felt as if he had no really substantial injuries.
“JENKINS!” he yelled, but no answer came immediately.
“He's dead, Sir.” a Sergeant replied.
“Who's left?”
“None but me, Sir.” the Sergeant replied and as if to emphasise this, he raised his arm and blind-fired two rounds over the edge.
“Well then, McCandless, it seems you have inherited his responsibilities.”
“That I have, Sir.” the Sergeant said and smiled thinly. His dust and blood smeared face showed it well but he looked at his charge with a look of concern next.
“How are you, Sir?”
“Like 1 RTR is having a parade in my head is how I am, Sergeant.” Alexander replied. As he felt for his Webley[1] McCandless quickly outlined what had happened since the first machine gun salvo had destroyed the engine of the forward landy.
“When your driver was hit he still managed to pull up to this side of the road. It saved your life Sir, but you did get knocked about some. As far as we can tell there are at least ten of them, but they chose a bad spot because as you can see behind us there is a cliff going straight up for far too long to have a second group up there.”
“How we fixed for guns and ammunition, Sarn't?”
“Could be better, Sir.” McCandless replied and looked around. “Everyone able to fight is armed, you included. Two Stens, hand guns and a No.4. Ammunition...well, I count our lucky numbers that most of our guns use the same 9mm cartridge because of that we have plenty as long as we watch what we shoot.”
Alexander knew that they were in a very bad situation but it could have been far, far worse.
“Well then, water?”
“That's more of an issue, but for the moment all my men have their full kits.”
Alexander leaned back and closed his eyes. If they managed to stay alive for another two or three hours then his staff at the next stop would realize something was wrong and hopefully send someone to have a look. Hopefully. And it wasn't all that certain they would live another ten minutes, let alone two hours.
The gunfire suddenly picked up even more. Even with his still slightly wobbly mind he could discern at least two machine guns firing in short bursts and the saw-like sound made them German MG-42.
“Here they come!” someone yelled and as Alexander peeked across the edge he saw that five figures were rushing across the street, past the burning vehicles. “FIRE!” he yelled and pulled his own trigger.
He didn't know if he had hit anything but two of the men were cut down instantly. One of them hit clean through the head with the back of his skull being splattered across the front window of the Field Marshal's car, with the other one being struck in the hip by two bullets from a Sten and crying like a stuck banshee until someone dragged him back quieted him permanently.
Suddenly there was no one there any more, the rush having failed and cost the enemy four of his five men.
“Bloody hell. They really did choose a dodgy location to do this.” Alexander said in a rare display of rank and file accent.
He flipped the barrel and cylinder forward and inserted two new .455 rounds. “There is little to do but wait.”
~**---**~
On the other side of the road Andretti came to the same conclusion. He was fuming with anger at his Italian 'allies' but refused to let it show. Had these bumbling incompetents actually hosed the car the Field Marshal was in instead of merely blowing up it's engine and killing the driver they would be out of here already. Now they were in a siege situation with time on the side of the British. Rushing them had been a bad idea and now...what now?
In any other place he would have split his force, keeping a few men with the machine guns to keep them occupied and circle around the back. But alas, that wasn't possible here. There only remained the World War One school of warfare. He re-loaded his Beretta, flipped off the safety and gave orders.
They didn't even have bayonets for their rifles but they still rose as a man and began to run the short stretch across the road. Andretti saw three of them fall before they had even reached the road from their hiding place but there were still five men with him when they jumped into the ditch.
Fierce fighting broke out and Andretti was fighting for his life as soon as his feet touched the ground again. He was faced with a short, stocky soldier who tried to keep him away from his Field Marshal but was shot in the chest for his troubles.
Gun still smoking Andretti turned around and tried to level his weapon on Alexander but the British Officer was wrestling with one of his men and in spite of it all Andretti was not... he was interrupted again when a bullet grazed his forehead. With an involuntary yelp he jumped back and turned on his heels. Before he could raise his hand he was thrown to the ground as a British Sergeant tackled him. The Beretta fell out of his hands and the Brit elbowed him in the stomach.
Andretti ignored the pain and tried to strangle the man that kneed over him but failed to get a decent grip. So instead he rammed his skull into the other man's face, breaking his nose and sending him sprawling back.
Andretti forced down the pain and picked up his Beretta. When he heard the loud, distinguished bang made by Alexander's Mk.VI he looked around and was almost scared when he saw that none of his men were still alive. The trained and battle-hardened British soldiers had made short work of the former blackshirts though all but three of them were now either dead or wounded. Field Marshal Alexander was bleeding from a shot wound in his arm and sat on the ground, applying a cloth to it to stop the blood flow.
The German raised his gun and pointed it at the enemy General but when the shot was fired Alexander turned and saw McCandless, bleeding heavily but with this gun straight and pointed at where the German was lying on the floor, likely dead.
“Well then, Warrant Officer.” Alexander said and reached for his handkerchief to wipe away some of the blood of a man he had shot from his face, “Let's hope they won't try again.”
McCandless didn't really register the promotion until later.[2]
Two hours later the troops that were conducting a sweep of the ambush site found, aside from the spent casings, two German MG-42s and the two dead bodies of the gunners. Unless they had managed to shoot themselves at the rear base of the skull they had been executed and the hollow-point rounds used made any attempts at identification useless.
But that very fact identified those behind the attack. The Germans had been suspected from the second the first of the men looking into why the Field Marshal was late had heard the gunfire and seen the smoke but the ejected shell casings from a handgun that fired 9x19 Parabellum Hollow-point rounds bearing the markings of the RSHA's favourite ammunition manufacturer at least provided at least enough proof to point at them.
Never mind that Andretti had several tattoos that were rather hard to explain for an Italian unless the Brandenburger Division of the German Army was suddenly accepting foreign recruits.
Six hours after the attack the SOE was treated to a personal visit by the Field Marshal and his Bodyguard, both still bearing the left-overs from the attack though they had changed into fresh uniforms.
Early morning two days later a courier entered a non-existent office on a non-existent military base in Hereford, England. Said courier carried a message signed by the Prime Minister and the Imperial General Staff.
The confrontation between the RSHA and the Brandenburger Division on one side and MI6 and the Special Air Service on the other began on that day.
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-
Comments, questions, rotten tomatoes?
Comments fuel me.
[1] A semi-automatic pistol is far too pedestrian for a British Field Marshal of the 1940s. Besides, the gun was also used by Henry Jones Junior, so yeah...
[2] Being Ike's TTL counterpart Alexander can do it.